Page 71 of Water's Edge

Me: She almost gave me away. But my aunt said that once I was born and my mom held me, she wasn’t going to give me away. She had never even filled out the paperwork. And she wasn’t going to let him have me.

I turn off the tape player.

Paperwork.There had to be paperwork filled out for the pregnancies, delivery, adoption, everything. Maybe the paperwork will tell me who the fathers are. The hospitals are a good place to start tomorrow. If I’m lucky, maybe there’s even surveillance footage.

As much as I dread playing the tapes of my sessions, Dr. Albright was right in their having a purpose. Clues. I leave the tape in the player, put it in the box, and put the box back in the closet. It’s almost one o’clock in the morning. I have to be up at 6:00 and get an early start.

I brush my teeth and coax the tangles out of my hair and on my way to bed stop at the computer. I have to check my email. Compulsive, I know. Personal and work. I’ve been out of touch for several hours and something might have happened. Not likely, because someone would have called me or found me.

I pull up my personal email account. I scan quickly down the list of emails but all I want to do is lie down and go to sleep thinking about tomorrow. Tomorrow I’m going to track down Boyd myself. I’m going to trade Ronnie to Marley for the DNA results.

A fair trade, I think.

There’s nothing in my email that needs to be answered immediately. I go to my work account. One message is from an email address that looks like a marketing scam, but it feels familiar. I hesitate to open it. A chill runs up my spine and I get my gun from the gun safe. My heart pounds in my throat and I check every room, the shower, the closets, the doors, the windows. All secure. I still don’t put the gun away. I sit at my desk, gun in hand, and open the email.

The subject line reads:Hi Rylee!

The air leaves my lungs just then. I let out a quiet gasp, something that I’d never allow myself in front of another. I see the exclamation point after my name as a kind of dagger. No, a kitchen knife -- dipped in blood.

It’s him again.

Wallace.

I read:

You are so busy these days. But then, you always were sticking your nose in places it didn’t belong. I see you’re on the hunt again. And this time you’re interfering with Clallam and Kitsap County cases. Good for you. I’m sure you’ll find your man. Just hope he doesn’t find you first. You’re not as clever as you think.

The next line makes my breath catch in my throat and I stand, put my back against a wall, and scan the room.

It says:

I’m in Port Townsend. See you soon. Wallace.

I can hardly breathe. I check the house again. Quickly. Everything is locked but I know from experience that if someone wants in, they will get in. Locks are only as good as the gun that protects them. Kwikset, Schlage, Smith & Wesson.

I pull on a pair of jeans and lay my gun on the desk. He wrote,I’m sure you’ll find your man. Does he know it’s a man? Is he the man I need to find? It’s possible. The killings started after I moved here. They are reminiscent of Alex Rader’s killings. But he’s dead and so is that psycho wife of his. He doesn’t have any children but me and Hayden.

Hayden is safely, or at least safe from me, in Afghanistan.

I finally go to bed wearing my jeans and sweatshirt and gun. I don’t sleep well. My mind races through questions and plans concerning the case. I will talk to Bohleber tomorrow after I get the DNA results. I will find Boyd and get DNA one way or another. I will track down the children if possible. If the DNA matches Truitt, I’ll think about what justice he should get. I don’t really peg him as the killer. He’s a sneak, a cheat, a coward, an incestuous bastard. Bohleber is a con artist. But you never know what a person will do when threatened.

Thirty-Five

My phone pings and jolts me out of my restless sleep.

I’ve been having bad dreams—nightmares, actually—about incidents I wish I could just leave in the past. After seeing Leann. Seeing the photos of Benton and Knowles. All of it brings me back to what I did to Marie, who was responsible for Rolland’s murder and my mother’s kidnapping. When I close my eyes I can still see Marie’s body jerking, eyes staring at me from underwater in the koi pond. I thought she’d drowned but she was a tough old bitch.

I was too.

And I didn’t give up easily.

I reach over to the nightstand and look at the phone’s screen. It shows I have a voicemail from the crime lab. It’s two o’clock in the morning. It has to be from Marley Yang. He should be sleeping. It’s his way of getting back at me for making him work.

I listen to the voicemail.

“Megan, it’s Marley. You and your new partner need to come to the crime lab in the morning first thing. Say ‘Thank you, Marley.’”

“Thank you, Marley,” I croak out, and it feels like my skull is shattering. Never drink Scotch and then wine. I can’t wait until the morning. I know he wants to show off in front of Ronnie, but I have to know what he’s got. It must be good by the tone in his voice. I hit “call back.” Two can play this game. He answers and I can hear a radio playing loudly in the background.

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