Unforgivable (21 page)

“You’re never alone, Katie. Not really.”

She shivered at those words, at their implications. It sounded crazy, unbelievable. And yet, hadn’t he been around during those times when she’d needed him as a child? And hadn’t she thought of Silas even when he wasn’t around?

“I felt your fear when you were holding off Gary with a scalpel.” His mouth twitched. “But before I could get to you, I felt your relief.”

“My own personal hero,” she said sardonically.

“I’m not a hero.”

A low, moaning sound drifted from the far reaches of the cemetery. 

“Cows,” she said quickly, as much to convince herself as to assure him. “The sound carries well at night.”

“Now that’s spooky.”

She found herself laughing at that. She reached out to the column for support, pulling back when she felt the warmth of his hand already there. “I don’t know what to think.” She turned to the plot and wondered if anyone there had gone through something like this. Vines and other plants grew up between the stones and twined partially up the posts. She balanced her hands on top of the spikes, making circles against her palms. “You probably know better what I think than I do.”

“You’re a little scared, a lot unnerved and a touch freaked out. How’d I do?”

She could hear a faint smile in his voice, a smile she couldn’t return. “I’ll go along with that.”

He grew silent for so long, she thought he’d disappeared again. But she could see him leaning against that column. The moonlight fairies didn’t quite reach him there, but she thought his eyes might be closed.

“Not again,” he said in a strange, low voice.

“What?”

He pushed away from the column. “Let’s get you home.”

He started heading through the woods, though he paused when he realized she wasn’t following. “What’s wrong?”

“Let’s just go.”

The urgency in his voice was unmistakable. He took a step toward her, grabbed her arm, and started walking again.

She shook free of him, tired of being told what to do and going along silently. “What is going on with you?”

He looked beyond her. “He’s on the prowl again.”

“Who is?”

“The Ghost…the killer.”

CHAPTER  12

When the feelings started, Silas didn’t want to believe it. Not already, not so soon after Carrie’s disappearance. The Ghost was escalating too fast. He was losing control.

“Please tell me what’s going on,” Katie said, slowing down to make her point. She was beautiful, standing there among the trees with the wind blowing her hair around her face, framing it. Spots of moonlight washed over her face, letting him see the fear and confusion he’d caused.

He took her hand and was gratified that she didn’t pull away this time. Even now, some part of her trusted him. He relished it, and he feared it. “We have to get you back now. I’ll explain later.”

“Not again!” She let out a sound of exasperation. “I’m going to hold you to that. You haven’t come close to answering all my questions.”

He twined his fingers with hers, absorbing the feel of her warmth and even her calluses. But he wouldn’t let himself look back at her. He had to stay focused on winding around the trees and undergrowth, and then the darkness as they entered the thicker part of the forest. He wasn’t sure if the rushing sound in his head was the trees or…
him
. Everything was starting to blend together, sounds, sights, and feelings. Maybe this time he’d catch up with The Ghost. He got closer and closer each time, waking up from the strange spell nearer to the scene where the girl was taken. And whatever he discovered, he didn’t want to be anywhere near Katie. Just in case…

The house was dark when they stepped into the clearing, except for one light in the office. Urgency pulsed through his brain, through his whole body. 

When they reached the porch, she turned around in front of him. “Silas…”

“Where’s Ben staying?”

“What?”

He took both her hands in his. “Where is he staying?”

“At the Marriott.”

“Call him, Katie. Right now.”

“You can’t think…it’s not Ben, I swear it’s not.”

“I just want to make sure.” He followed her inside. “If he answers, we can eliminate him.”

She grabbed up the phone and searched for the number. Before she dialed, she said, “You said you’d tell me what’s going on.”

“There isn’t time right now. Dial.”

She hesitated, looking into his eyes. “You look…different. Your eyes are all dilated. They look black.”

“Dial the number,” he said in something that sounded like a growl.

She did, but kept her eye on him as though she suspected he might turn into a werewolf. “Room 464 please.” She waited, and then said, “Hi, Ben, it’s me. I just called to say goodnight. Everything’s…fine here. Windy tonight. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Bye.”

“Voice mail?” 

She nodded. “He’s probably down in the lobby bar having a drink with the other attendees.” She forced a laugh. “He makes friends everywhere. I can beep him.”

“Do it.”

Ten minutes later, Ben called. After she hung up with him, she said, “He’d been in the lobby in a quiet corner reading over his notes. I could hear people in the background.”

Silas nodded, feeling relieved she wasn’t living with a killer. “Lock your door. I’m going to track down Harold and Gary.”

“Silas…” She grabbed his arm this time. She looked windblown and scared. “What’s happening?”

“I’ve got to track down the devil.”

He stepped outside and became one with the dark.

One part of his life was bleeding into the other. It wasn’t right, not at all. Separate, it was always to be kept separate. Divided completely.

Now they knew about him, about this part of him anyway. They still didn’t know, couldn’t prove, that he was one and the same. No one would ever tie him to anything. They were too stupid to ever find out what happened to the bodies. Too stupid to find evidence to convict him. He was too smart to get caught.

The first time the hunger had grabbed hold of him, he’d turned a date into rough sex. He’d learned quickly after getting his hand slapped—figuratively speaking. Either control his impulses or make sure they weren’t around to report him.

The first time he’d killed, he’d been shocked. Repulsed even. And terrified. He’d been sure he’d get caught, but he hadn’t. The next time it went easier. That’s when he realized it: he was meant to do these things. That’s why he had the impulse.

But things were getting messy. They’d connected the girls’ disappearances. He’d been so clever, too, making sure they were spaced apart in time and distance. Many of his crimes had been attributed to the girl running away or a run in with a random maniac. For so long, it had been perfect.

They also knew about the shoes. That bothered him most. No longer his secret pleasure. How had they found that out? Only a couple of shoes had been found, and no one thought the murderer had left them there on purpose. Everyone in town was speculating about it. He’d overheard two of the deputies snickering about the guy masturbating over the shoe.  He’d become a joke. Just hearing them had made his stomach churn. He wasn’t like that!

He wasn’t sick. He just liked his pleasures in different ways than other men. He’d always been different. Special.

He was going to show them just how stupid they were. How they were no match for him. He was living under their noses, yet they’d have nothing to pin on him. Even when he took one of their own.

It was early, only ten-thirty. The road that ran by the edge of town was quiet. One truck came the other way.  Far ahead two fuzzy red lights disappeared into the distance. And just off the side of the road, he saw what he was looking for, what he’d been waiting for.

He deserved this. For everything he’d been through. For the disappointment he’d felt over the last girl. He’d tried to figure that out, why he’d felt empty after her death, empty and let down. Maybe she’d come too willingly. Maybe she’d died too quickly.

He turned around and pulled to a stop by the girl who was walking home from the diner as always. He smiled. Geraldine. He liked her. Maybe this would give him the rush he needed, taking someone he knew.

Something else piqued his interest: Geraldine was with a friend. He hadn’t seen her at first, because she was wearing black. Two women…risky. Different.

He rolled down the window. “Geraldine, what are you doing walking way out here?”

Beyond the swale and tall weeds that overtook the fence were the vast cotton fields her father farmed. He couldn’t see any sign of the house in the distance.

Geraldine walked cautiously closer, then smiled. “Hey. Aw, we’re just talking. Dana’s got boy troubles.”

He’d seen the other girl before, but didn’t know her. “Should you be walking out here by yourselves, what with those girls disappearing and all?”

Her brown hair spilled over her shoulders when she braced herself on the door. “We heard about that. But it ain’t happened around here. And we’re being careful, walking away from the road and all.”

“I’d hate for something to happen to you. Why don’t I give you both a ride home? Better to be safe than sorry, don’t you think?”

Geraldine looked at Dana, who subtly shook her head. “We still got some talking to do,” she said. “But thanks anyway.”

No matter how much success he’d achieved in his life, rejection still cut down to the raw tendons exposed during his early years. It brought back every person who’d ever turned away from him, every word that sliced into his soul, every time he’d reached out to someone and found no one there.

He used that pain to interject hurt into his voice. “You don’t trust me, do you?”

“Of course I do. We’re just not ready to go back is all.”

“Good, I’m glad you trust me. Because I happen to know something about this man who’s taking women. Something that hasn’t been released to the public so they won’t panic.”

Geraldine rested more comfortably in the open window. “Like what?” Dana walked up beside her.

“Like he might be here in town. Now don’t go telling anyone yet. There’s more, but I can’t tell you yet.”

In the dim light from the dashboard, he saw her easy expression darken. “Did they find that girl from Haddock?”

“That’s the part I can’t tell you.”

“They did, didn’t they?”

He paused as one who knows inside information and must decide how much to part with. Then he gravely nodded. “It wasn’t pretty, either. He tortured her bad, raped her.”

Geraldine glanced at Dana. “And they think he’s here? In Flatlands?” Her panic edged through.

“Being involved in the investigation, I can tell you it’s a real possibility.” He splayed his hand on his chest. “I consider it my job to make sure you get home all right. I don’t want to hear tomorrow that you both disappeared, and here I could have saved you. I don’t want to see your pictures on missing posters.”

Geraldine opened the door and slid onto the seat next to him. 

“I have a bunch of junk in the back, but I think you both can fit on the front seat.” 

After a hesitation, Dana slid in beside her and pulled the door closed. He let out a breath of relief. He’d already gotten himself into a lie he’d have trouble explaining if they hadn’t gotten in. Big mistake.

The girls smelled sweet, a soft fragrance that was at odds with the curves beneath their blouses. He loved the anticipation, loved knowing he’d be privy to every curve on their bodies before long. Now that they were in his vehicle, he would soon have complete control over every aspect of their lives. Dreams about boys and makeup and college would be replaced with a nightmare they couldn’t begin to fathom. His palms got sweaty on the wheel just thinking about the surprise on their faces when it dawned on them.

He pulled onto one of the roads that led to the cotton farm so he could turn around. “Where do you live, Dana?”

“Possum Holler,” she answered after a pause. 

Where Katie used to live.

Everything would change at the place where two roads converged. There was one lone light, blinking red. If someone saw him, he’d have to change plans. After all, he really had no business being there at that time. As soon as he went straight, the girls would know something was wrong. At first they’d protest, then he’d shut them up. By then he’d be driving so fast, no one would see into the vehicle at all.

He smiled as the blinking light beckoned, casting a red glow on the black asphalt.
Come closer, closer.

What a marvel, that life could change in the blink of that light. In the distance, he saw headlights coming from the west. Too far away to see anything. He shot through the intersection.

“Hey, wait!” Dana said, looking back. “Possum Holler is on 74.”

“And you ran the red light,” Geraldine pointed out.

He glanced over at them. No alarm. Dana looked concerned, nothing more. Yet.

“I thought it was out this way.”

“I think I’d know where I lived,” she said with sarcasm.

“Sorry. Guess I get disoriented out this way at night.” 

“You should know your way around this area,” Dana said.

“You’d think.” He slowed down just a bit. “Let me look for a place to turn around.”

“Right there—you were going too fast.”

They passed another road that trailed off to the west. He slowed down a bit.

“There’s a house up there,” Geraldine said, pointing at the cottage with the lights on inside.

“I don’t like to turn around in people’s driveways when they’re that close to the road,” he said as he passed it. “I’d think it’d be unnerving to have someone pull up this time of the night.”

“Maybe we could just do a U-ee in the road,” Dana said, searching for another turn-off. He suspected she was annoyed more than anything at this point.

He gave them an easy laugh. “I’d be afraid another car would come by and hit us. Besides, it’s illegal. I take my responsibility to keep you safe very seriously. Don’t worry, we’ll find something up ahead. Go ahead, keep talking about boys or whatever you were discussing.”

Dana rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right, with a man in the car?”