Serpents Rising (20 page)

“Please don't go to any trouble just for me,” I said, looking at Mrs. Appleton. She hadn't smiled yet and my feeling was that I could wait a long time before that happened.

“Not at all.” It was Appleton who answered. “We were just going to have something ourselves. And we like both, so whichever you prefer …”

“Coffee, then, if that's all right.”

Again I looked at Kathleen Appleton, again no visible response. She headed for the kitchen. Appleton watched her go with what looked like regard. But then Appleton had been able to put on enough of a show to captivate several teenage girls, so maybe this too was acting.

He continued to look in the direction she had gone even after she was out of the room. I took that few seconds to look around. If I'm ever given an assignment to write an article on the prototype middle class living room, this wouldn't be a bad place to start. Like the exterior, there was little in the way of pretension. It was pleasant without trying too hard to
feel
pleasant.

The furniture was older but in what the Kijiji ads would call like-new condition. A couple of Robert Bateman prints on the walls. A bookcase along one wall. I couldn't see titles but it looked like a mix of the bestselling thriller writers, some historical romance, and maybe some non-fiction.

What was missing was photographs. There were lots of flat surfaces that often tend to attract framed pictures of kids and newly married couples, but not one photograph adorned one flat surface in the Appleton home.

To Appleton's left was an electric piano and beside it an acoustic guitar—a Martin. I don't know a lot about guitars but I do know that a Martin is a top-of-the-line instrument.
The musician. And unlike Donna, he'd continued to enjoy playing.

I forced myself to breathe. Appleton turned back to me.

“Oceanside Junior High, you said?”

“That's right.” I nodded.

“I was going to check our database to see if we'd included the school in our mail outs but I didn't get off the phone long enough to do that. Maybe you can answer that question for me, Mr. Maxwell.”

“I … uh … think so, yes, I'm fairly certain. We let the kids carry the ball as much as we can at Oceanside and it's my first year on the committee so I'm still getting my feet wet, but yes, I'm sure we got your promotional materials.”

“Ah, well it's good to know our attempts at promoting are working. And where is Oceanside Junior High?”

“Down White Rock way,” I waved an arm in what I hoped was the direction of White Rock.

Mrs. Appleton came into the room carrying two small plates of cookies. She set one on an end table next to me and the other on a matching table near her husband. This time she smiled slightly at me as she turned and started for the kitchen again. “The coffee will just be a couple of minutes,” she said as she walked.

“Thank you,” I said as she disappeared a second time. “Very nice home, Mr. Appleton.”

“We like it. Seems to fit with our lifestyle. We're rather quiet people.”

I cleared my throat and looked down at the lone scatter rug that lay on the hardwood floor that looked newer than the rest of the house.

“You should have one of my wife's cookies, Mr. Maxwell. I'm betting you can't stop at just one.”

I took one and bit into as good a chocolate chip cookie as I'd ever had.

This wasn't feeling quite right. I was sitting in a comfortable home, having a pleasant conversation with the man who had molested my wife and maybe murdered her. I set the cookie down and nodded to indicate that it was time to get on with discussing the yearbook project.

“There are two or three companies we're looking at and I wondered if I could ask you a couple of things about yours.”

He smiled and held out his hands, palms up. “By all means. Ask away.”

“How … uh … how long has School Daze been in the yearbook business?”

“We're relatively new, just going into our fourth year, but we have been growing every year. Right now there's just the two of us,” he nodded in the direction of the kitchen, “but if we get much bigger we'll be looking at taking on a couple of new employees.”

“I see,” I said. “And how does the process work? Say our student committee decides to go with School Daze, would you be coming into the school to meet with us, that sort of thing?”

“There are a couple of options. Teachers and students tend to be very busy so it's often more convenient for me to stop in, collect the files as they are ready prior to our printing them. Of course, we can also do a lot of this online. It's really up to the school to determine what way they prefer to work.”

“Right … That makes sense.”

“And now, Mr. Maxwell, I have a couple of questions as well.”

I shrugged and tried to smile. “Sure.”

“First of all, is Maxwell your real name?”

I sat up straight, stared. “What?”

“You see, I
did
check our database. And there is an Oceanside School but it's on the island, somewhere around Parksville. So you're not who you say you are and perhaps you better tell me what it is you want, Mr. —”

“Cullen. Adam Cullen. But I doubt the name will mean anything to you. It's my wife you'd be familiar with. She was one of your students at Northern Horizon Academy. One of your … victims.”

He'd caught me off guard but I was okay now. A thousand interviews, some with people who didn't like me and didn't want to talk with me had prepared me for moments like these.

Appleton stood up and left the room, heading for the kitchen. I heard quiet voices. He came in buttoning a sweater he had pulled on while he was out of the room. “I find it a bit chilly. I apologize if it's uncomfortable. I turned up the thermostat.”

He sat back down and looked at me with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Curiosity, not malice. Apprehension, not fear.

“There are a number of things I could try to say but I'm not sure any of them would be appropriate, Mr. Cullen. Of course, I knew some of the family members of the young women I was accused of —”

“Accused?” My voice rose and he glanced at the doorway leading to the kitchen. I leaned forward. “If you want me to keep my voice down to protect whatever charade you've got going with your wife, then don't insult my intelligence and don't, for a second, think about denying what you did with those girls.”

A few seconds went by before he nodded. “I was merely going to say that this is the first time I have met a husband of any of those young women.”

“Well, now you can add that to your list of memorable moments.”

I could feel the anger bubbling over and I was close to losing control. I dug my hands into the arms of the chair.

“What do you want from me, Mr. Cullen?”

“I don't know. I want to come over there and hit you in the face. I want you to feel something … something inside that tears you apart the way it tears me apart. I want you to hurt as much as those girls hurt. I want …”

“I paid my debt to society, Mr. Cullen.”

“Bull
shit
.” My voice was a hiss. “Don't give me that cliché crap. What debt did you pay to those women?” I flung my arm in a half circle. “Things don't look too bad for the Appletons. Comfy little home in a nice middle-class neighbourhood. Bet the neighbours think you're just a nice man who mows his lawn every Saturday morning and sells yearbooks to schools.”

“I don't blame you for your venom toward me. You have every right —”

“Shut up. It's better when you don't talk. No, no, I do have one question. How have you managed to operate a business that lets you go into the very places where you preyed on young girls? How did you pull that off?”

“My wife does all the work in the schools. Some of them run police checks so, of course, I can't have any contact with the schools.”

“So they know.”

“No. The only ones who have suspected that I am the man they read about or heard about don't do business with us. For obvious reasons. Some schools have only asked for the police check for Kathleen. Some don't do much checking.”

“Convenient.”

“Have you wondered why I let you in my house when I knew you weren't who you said you were? When I suspected you might be someone from … the past?”

“Why was that, Appleton? An opportunity to look into the eyes of one of your peripheral victims, check out the collateral damage?”

“Kathleen and I agreed when I got out of prison that if any of the people I harmed in the past were to come here that we would see them, that even in situations that might be dangerous I would meet my accusers, my … victims and their families and say to their faces how sorry I am for what I did.”

“A noble fucking attitude.”

“Not noble Mr. Cullen, not noble at all. It is as much for me as for them. I realize that what I did cannot be forgiven but I want to say … I
need
to say that I am so terribly sorry.” His voice caught on the last word and he looked down.

I watched him with as much loathing as I've ever felt for anyone. “You haven't even asked her name.”

He looked up at me, eyes moist. He shook his head. “I haven't, I'm sorry … again. I should have.”

“But you already know it, don't you?”

He looked puzzled, shook his head. “There were six girls in all, and I know that that is far too many. Six too many.” He paused and rubbed his forehead. “I don't know your wife's name but they … the young women were not anonymous to me. I knew them. I knew their names. I remember their names. I will know your wife's name when you tell it to me, I promise you.”

“And that's supposed to make me feel better?”

“No … no, I just wanted you to be aware …” he trailed off, didn't finish the sentence.

Through clenched teeth, I said, “Donna. Leybrand.”

There was silence in the room but for a ticking clock in the corner. No sounds from the kitchen. Appleton took a breath, let it out, looked over my shoulder, out the window.

He turned his head just enough to look at me. “Donna was … a very special person. She was one of my favourite —”

He didn't finish because I was out of the chair and had hold of him, my fist drawn back, wanting to hit him, to smash his face over and over until it was unrecognizable.

“Let him go. Now!” Kathleen Appleton stood in the doorway, a cell phone in her hand. “I will call the police if you don't let him go and get out of this house.”

I was close enough to smell Appleton's cologne.
The bastard did it again.
The words crescendoed in my head. Every part of me wanted to ignore his wife's threat and make this man pay.
Donna was a very special person. The bastard did it again.
Words. Terrible words.

I pushed down on his chest and stood up, tears blurring my vision, my chest heaving as I tried to gulp in air.

“It wasn't enough for your pig of a husband to molest young girls …” I looked at Appleton who was pulling himself up straight in the chair. “Does she know about the rest of it? What you did after?”

“I want you to leave.” She started hitting buttons on the phone.

“What was it Appleton? Revenge? Donna was the one who spoke out first, got the others to go to the police, to testify in court. Was that your justification for killing her?” My voice had risen to where I wasn't sure the words were making sense and I didn't care.

But they understood the words. Kathleen Appleton stopped punching numbers. Appleton leaned forward. “What did you say?”

“You heard me, you pathetic bastard. You killed my wife.” I wanted to yell it but it came out as barely more than a whisper.

“I …” he looked at his wife, then back at me. “I didn't know Donna was dead. I swear I … what happened to her?”

“She died in the fire you set —”

“My God, that's two of those girls … I can't … you have to believe me, I —”

He didn't finish. Kathleen Appleton, her arms above her head, came at me with a scream that was part rage and part wounded animal. I saw the movement out of the corner of my eye and was able to duck but I was off balance and the force of her attack and the fact that it was so unexpected knocked me down. She stood over me, screaming, trying to hit me or kick at me. She was unsuccessful only because Appleton had leaped from his chair and had both arms around her, dragging her back, talking to try to calm her.

Her screams drowned him out. “You make me sick, all of you. You're as bad as those filthy high school sluts with their skirts up to their asses and their tits all over the place wanting men like my husband and then trying to ruin our lives after they got exactly what they wanted, what they begged for.”

Her last words were barely understandable as her hate and anger had made her something inhuman, something I'd never seen. She paused to take a breath, to swallow some of the saliva that was bubbling out of her mouth as she screamed at me. But still her arms churned as she tried to get free of her husband in order to get at me.

I got to my feet, stumbled back. I could hear Appleton now, his voice steady as he continued to restrain her, trying to talk her back to sanity.

I knew I had to get out of there. Somehow everything had changed and I had to get away, to try to take away all of what had happened in there. But not yet. What had Appleton said?
There were two of them.
Had he meant two girls dead?

But Kathleen Appleton's fury had not diminished. She was merely resting, gathering strength for another attack. Both Appleton and I knew it. And it came.

“You can all go straight to hell, you Goddamn scum of the earth! Those slut teenage whores and you too! I'm glad she's dead. I can't wait until they're all dead and gone to hell where they belong.”