The Reservoir (26 page)

Aaron listened to the exchange, fidgeting with his napkin the whole while.  Something was niggling at his brain, and had been since he’d been in that shed the first time.  Something relevant—he was sure of it—was floating around in his subconscious, just out of reach, and the more he tried to get a fix on it, the more it eluded him.  He sighed, and John noticed.

“All right, son?” he asked.

Aaron met his gaze.  “Something’s bothering me…”

“What’s that?”

“Something about this whole, God-awful situation,” he admitted, and wondered why he was speaking to the man Zack had said could very well be involved in the murders.  He eyed the older man curiously.  “Have you heard anything more about the recovery effort?” he asked.

John shook his head.  “Not much.  Only that there were thirteen bodies pulled out of that big lake.  Twelve were girls and one a little boy.”  He took a slow swig of his coffee.  “The deputies believe Cassie Cooke is one of them.”  He frowned, the lines of his weathered face deepening with the pain of that knowledge.  “I can’t help but wonder if Cassie’s outcome could have been different had we continued looking for her, rather than calling off the search.”  He shook his head and expelled a long sigh.  “I guess we’ll never know.”

Zack noted a sudden flash of anger in the man’s eyes, before they softened to sadness once again.  “That poor, poor family,” John mused aloud.  “All those families…  But at least they’ll have the closure people so often talk about.  Personally, I’m not sure closure is a real concept.  How do you ever get over losing a child…?”  When John swiped at a tear in his eye, the kids pretended not to notice, but agreed it would be horrible to lose a child.

Zack decided John’s grief seemed genuine, but he continued to watch him intently.  As the man had said earlier,
I
guess you can’t ever really know someone’s heart.

“Do they have any ideas who the other kids might be?” Zack asked.

“I heard one of the deputies speculate that the little boy may be a child who was abducted from a stock car race in Portland.”

Aaron glanced at the man with alarm.  “What?  A stock car race?” he repeated.  “In Portland, you said?” 

John nodded.  “Yes.  I understand a twelve-year-old boy was abducted when he went off by himself to buy a couple small, collectible cars from one of the booths at this particular race.”

“A stock car race in Portland,” Aaron murmured, and suddenly, he pushed back from the table and began moving around, agitated, and desperately trying to retrieve the information floating just out of reach of his memory.  “When was the race?” he demanded.  “When was that race?”

“Well, I don’t know,” John said.

Aaron began pacing in the restaurant, to the consternation of the other diners, who watched him with puzzled annoyance.  He had to be wrong, he told himself.  Surely the police had already considered the timing of that race.  But maybe they were so busy with the recovery effort, they hadn’t actually taken an intensive look at potential suspects.

“Son, maybe you should sit down,” John suggested.

Aaron shook his head furiously, and then his eyes widened.  “Oh, God, Zack!” he cried.  “I remember now.  The poster!” he cried cryptically.  “Damn it, Zack!”

Zack rose from his seat and moved closer to Aaron.  He clutched his friend’s shoulders.  “Aaron, what?  Listen.  Take a deep breath.  What are you trying to tell us?”

Aaron met his friend’s eyes, and Zack saw abject terror in the depths of his friend’s brown eyes.  “Damn it, Zack, why didn’t I remember before?  That poster!  My brother got one just like it at a race he went to—”

“So?” Zack interrupted.  “Aaron!”

“The race was six months ago, just before my seventeenth birthday.  That poster was a new, recently released edition.  Don’t you get it?”

Zack shook his head. 

Aaron took a deep, shoring breath, attempting to compose himself.  “Don’t you see?  The poster in the shed came from that particular race.  The girl in the poster—her throat had been slashed! 
That
poster had been mutilated like all the rest.”

Zack’s eyes widened as understanding hit him like a mallet upside his head.  “The race was six months ago!  Cleve Walker died a year ago!”

Aaron nodded ominously and John suddenly pushed back from the table.  His blue eyes passed between the boys, his mouth opened in apparent shock.  Kendall and Niqui remained sitting, frozen in terror, as the implication of Aaron’s discovery crashed down on them.   

“Let’s go!” Zack cried, clutching Aaron’s arm and pulling him toward the exit.  He turned at the threshold and called to the others.  “Call 911!  Send help to the cabin!  Now!”  He shook his head, trying to think clearly.  “John, call Donner!”

Zack saw Kendall dash to a phone on the restaurant counter, while John pulled a cell phone from his pocket, checking for service.  Fleetingly, Zack remembered his own cell phone didn’t work in this town, but dismissed the thought in his haste.  His friends would assure help would be on the way. 

The two boys charged to Zack’s truck, jumped in, and raced out of the parking lot and toward the cabin.  They were unaware that John had followed them out of the restaurant and to his own truck. 

As Zack drove, he turned to Aaron briefly.  He shook his head morosely.  “I should have figured it out sooner,” Aaron moaned.  “If something happens to Holly…” 

“She’s probably on her way home right now,” Zack said firmly, telling himself the words were true.  She was safe.  She had to be.  And Aaron’s discovery didn’t prove who the killer was, just that it couldn’t have been Cleve Walker who killed the little boy Erick, if indeed Erick was that same boy.  Zack told himself Erick probably wasn’t even the same boy at that stock car race…  But then… what if he was? 

Zack pressed the gas pedal that he’d already floored, praying for increased speed, and that he wouldn’t kill himself or Aaron attempting to navigate the twisting mountain roads.  He vaguely registered a vehicle some distance behind him, but he left it in his dust.

Maybe Erick wasn’t that boy.

Zack suddenly remembered the scene at the slide where Cassie had shown them the bodies.  Later, a deputy had found a toy car there.  A toy car!  John had said the little boy at that race had gone off to buy a couple small, collectible cars.  And Aaron had found a second toy car in the box of mementos he’s found in the shed. 

Zack felt a wave of fear wash over him.  The killer was still out there!

Holly tossed her stuff into the back seat of David’s extended cab pickup truck and closed the door behind it.  Her eyes did a distracted pass over the ski boat on the new trailer behind the truck.  They wouldn’t be taking the boat out today.  Holly wondered if her family would ever come back to the reservoir again, though she knew she would return—with or without them.  Cassie still needed her. 

If Cassie’s friends had left the lake, then the ghost girl would be all alone.  Holly couldn’t bear the thought of the loneliness Cassie would likely soon experience.  Yes, she would come back and visit her as often as she could manage. 

Holly hoped she would come to trust her enough to divulge to her where her body was located, because someday, Cassie’s parents needed to know the whereabouts of their only daughter. 

Holly wondered, would Cassie make the decision to reveal herself to them?  She had made her presence known to Thomas. 

What would she do under similar circumstances? Holly wondered.  Would she show herself to her family and hope they didn’t run away in fear?  Poor Cassie.

Holly made a quick decision to go down to the lake, in hopes of seeing her before she left.  She walked to the end of the dock and her eyes did a pass over the beautiful, rugged countryside flanking the reservoir, and then lighted on the rippling water.  “Cassie,” she called softly.  “Are you out there?”

There was no response.

Holly sighed.  She had hoped to say goodbye to her friend, but perhaps any goodbyes would have to wait until later.  Holly turned to leave, but to her surprise, she crashed into her stepfather.  He reached out to steady her. 

“Whoa, there, Holly,” he said with a soft laugh. 

“Sorry,” she said.  “I didn’t hear you walk down.  Are we ready to go?”

He nodded.  “Yep.  I’ve packed up as much as we’re allowed—just the items we brought along with us this trip.  I bet you’re eager to get out of here.”

She shrugged.  “I guess.”

David watched her, frowning.  “You seem unhappy,” he said pensively, but roused himself.  “Of course, you’re unhappy.  Discovering all the children, many about your age, has to be horrifying for you.”

She nodded mutely. 

He surprised her when he pulled her into an embrace.  “We don’t ever have to come back to this place,” he said in her ear.  “Never again.  We’ll sell the cabin.  Heck, we’ll level it.”

She pulled back with a tremulous smile and took a step away from him.  “I…”  She knew she couldn’t very well tell him she had to come back, or the reasons for her impending return.  “I’m just glad it’s over,” she said finally.

David gave a humorless laugh.  “I don’t think your friends will ever come back to this place.  Heck of a way to finish out a summer,” he muttered wearily.  “So much for the best laid plans.”

“I don’t think Daniel will ever come back,” she agreed.  “The others…  I don’t know.”

David watched her speculatively from an arm’s length away.  “Yes.  That reminds me.  I overheard Daniel’s comment to you back at the cabin.  What did he mean when he said, ‘At least I’m not crazy like dear, ol’ Dad’?  Seems like an odd thing to say.”    

Holly sighed and met his gaze.  Should she divulge her friend’s secret to her stepfather?  But then, she and David had shared a horrific experience, and in some odd way, she felt closer to him for it.  She certainly could have thought of a more enjoyable bonding experience than watching dead bodies being taken from the reservoir, but he had been there for her during the trauma—concerned for both her and Zack’s well being.  He had tried to shield her from as much of the horror as he could.  He had behaved like a … father.

She met his inquiring gaze.  “If I tell you, please don’t say anything…”  She laughed uncertainly.  “I mean, I know you won’t but…”  She took a deep breath and smiled sadly.  “Anyway, Daniel’s father has mental illness and he confided in us that he’s afraid it might happen to him too.”

David frowned.  “Poor kid.  That has to be hard on him.”

Holly nodded.  “Yes.  I wish he’d told us sooner.  I guess he’s lived in constant fear.”

David nodded and turned toward the lake.  He silently stared out across the whitecaps that had suddenly formed due to the winds picking up.  Holly looked out across the water, as well, her eyes lighting on the washout across the way.  She could barely make it out from here, but still recoiled when she thought about those two little bodies having been tossed there like discarded garbage.

Holly was lost to her thoughts, so when David turned toward her abruptly, she started.  “Holly, how did you know those bodies were over at the washout?” he asked, watching her speculatively.  “How did you
really
know?”

She was startled by the question.  “Um, it’s like we said, Zack and I were swimming and we found the first one…”

“Swimming?  You mean
diving
?”

“Well, yes, um, Zack saw a white rock he thought was crystal and…”

David shook his head abruptly.  “No.  The water is too murky there.  Maybe in the shallows he could have seen a rock, but beyond the shelf…”  He shook his head.  “No.”

Holly watched David’s face.  A series of emotions crisscrossed his pleasant face.  She recognized anger in his eyes and took an instinctive step back.  He noticed and shook his head, blanked his features, and then smiled persuasively.

“You can tell me the truth.  And you can also tell me how you knew about the bodies under the bridge.”  He spread his hands wide.  “Come on.  You can tell me.”

“We … found a necklace…”

He shook his head again.  “No.”

“But, we did.  We gave it to the deputy, remember?” 

Holly’s mind reeled.  How could he know they were lying?  He sounded so certain, so adamant that she wasn’t telling him the truth.  Holly swallowed over a lump in her throat.  This felt all wrong.  David’s manner felt all wrong.

She took another step back, forgetting she was at the end of the dock.  Another step and she’d be in the water.  “We should probably go,” she suggested, struggling to keep her tone neutral and upbeat.  “I know Mom wants us back home as soon as possible.”

David didn’t budge, but instead smiled and smoothed a hand through his hair.  “I feel for your friend, Daniel,” he said distractedly, and then his eyes lighted on hers like a guided missile.  “He’s right to be worried, you know.  The apple usually doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Holly gave him a puzzled glance.  “Daniel seems … fine.”

“Take me, for example,” David said, smiling winningly.  “I didn’t meet my own father until I was a grown man.  In fact, I couldn’t have picked him out of a crowd three years ago, but thanks to my job, I managed to locate him.”

Holly nodded.  “Well, that’s nice that you were able to find him.  I’m sure he was happy to finally meet you.  Um, why was it you hadn’t met him before…?”

David gave a dismissive wave.  “That’s irrelevant.  What is relevant is that I found him.  In fact, finding him is what brought me to this part of the country.  You see he used to live, well, here.”

“You mean, on this lake?”  Holly eyed her stepfather, a sinking feeling in her gut.  “We should go,” she persisted, attempting to take a step around him.  He blocked her way and she stepped back, stumbled, and nearly tumbled into the lake.  He stopped her by grabbing a hold of her elbow.

“Steady there,” he cautioned. 

Holly’s heart was suddenly in her throat.  She felt sick with dread as she met his gaze.  His eyes had taken on a strange, blank quality, and he expelled a long sigh.  She could see when his eyes focused again, but they were unfamiliar and menacing.

“I’m just, uh, glad the real killer has been identified,” Holly said, watching him.