44 Book Four (2 page)

Fortunately, the police and the Bureau had seen fit to keep my name out of their press releases and statements. So when the story hit the newspapers and went viral, no one knew that I was involved. And it was a big story. Pretty much everything except for my identity had come out. It went national, all the major newspapers and news shows talking about how a girl had been kidnapped by a group of crazy doctors who thought they had found an antidote for death.

About how two of the scientists had escaped.

And about how one man had killed his insane brother.

It was a circus and I was lucky not to be a part of it. But once I testified, all that would change. My identity would no longer be protected. My days were numbered. My life as a Frankenstein experiment would soon be exposed. It was coming, possibly as soon as winter.

Kate said she didn’t have any mixed feelings having to sit on such a huge story. But I told her that as long as other people were going to eventually be telling the story and attaching my name to it, she should too.

“We’ll deal with that when it happens,” she said.

“You might want to start writing it now,” I said. “It could be, what do you call that? Oh, yeah, first person. And be a series. I know you’d do a great job. And you’d get all the facts right.”

“Yeah, it’s got Pulitzer written all over it,” she had said sarcastically.

“I’m serious,” I said.

But for now, I took refuge in the anonymity. For now, I had spring and summer. Maybe even fall.

For now, I could slip back into my life. Play soccer, work at the coffee house, hang out with Ty. Be a river guide in the summer. Go to concerts.

A few more people wandered in from outside and I quickly walked over to David.

“I’m going to take a break,” I told him.

“Sure you are,” he said, taking over the register.

“Thanks.”

I liked working with David and was always happy when I saw his name on the schedule next to mine.

I walked toward the back room, meeting Mo’s eyes for a second as she brewed a new pot of the house blend. She didn’t say anything, as usual. It didn’t matter how cold it was, she always wore the same kind of tank top under her apron, which exposed her tattoo-covered arms. And no matter how hard I tried, I always stared at the dark ink that shot up toward her shoulders, stopping myself only after I saw the large cross or the guitar.

I found Mike in the back, behind the shelves.

“I’m gonna take my break now, if that’s okay,” I said.

I tried to talk softly, so I wouldn’t startle him because it was always easy to scare people in the back room. It was dark and the strong aromas and all those beans seemed to muffle the noise so you never knew if somebody was coming.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, jumping awkwardly. “Of course. It must be time. I’ll come up front and help cover the counter.”

Mike was short and thin, with light hair and a small goatee that he often stroked when he seemed to be thinking about something. His energy was calm and he was soft spoken, no matter how loud it got.

“How’s it been out there?” he asked, adjusting his silver-rimmed glasses. I heard Diana Krall playing on the stereo and knew David must have put the music on for Kate.

“Busy,” I said. “As usual.”

“Good,” he said, dropping a dark apron over his head. “That’s how we like it.”

I was glad he wanted me to return to work after I got back to Bend. I never told him the specifics of what had really happened, but when I got home, I emailed him, telling him that a family emergency had forced me to leave town suddenly. I was surprised at his reaction. The next week I was back on the schedule like nothing had ever happened.

When we walked out, a long line stretched all the way to the door. I hesitated.

“We got it,” Mike said. “Enjoy your break, Abby.”

Back Street Coffee had become the new hot spot in Bend. When I had started working, mostly it was full of snowboarders and skiers coming home after their runs. It was the kind of place Jesse and I would have come to after a good morning on the mountain. But in the last few months, word had spread how amazing the coffee was, and now all sorts of people came in. Business people, court people, cyclists, workers from downtown. Business was so good that Mike told us that they were thinking of opening another store. 

I poured a small cup of freshly brewed coffee, adding in lots of cream, and then headed over toward Kate.

CHAPTER 3

“We could go outside if you want,” Kate asked, closing her laptop and pushing it to the far corner of the table.

“This is fine,” I said. “Besides, it’s crowded out there, too. And cold.”

I couldn’t wait until summer, when the sun had warmth to it and I could get back to T-shirts and shorts. Sometimes the cold weather lasted too long. I always felt that way in the spring. It took forever to transition into warm days.

“It’s always so busy in this place,” she said, staring at the group of six women at the table next to us. They worked at the bank. “I feel lucky to be able to just find an empty seat.”

“Oh, you’ll never have a problem with that as long as David is around,” I said. “He’ll kick someone out for you.”

She smiled and pulled up her hair, tying it in a loose knot behind her head.

She drained her cup and squinted at the sun that was now streaming in through the window. I brought down the blinds a little and sat down again, leaning back in the wobbly plastic chair, studying her as she looked around. Her eyes were large and jittery, like she hadn’t been sleeping much either.

“Any plans this weekend?” I asked, stirring my coffee and then taking a sip. It was still too hot to drink.

 “Painting,” she said.

It began right after my rescue. Kate started fixing up the house. At first, I thought it wasn’t such a big deal, but over the months it had become an obsession. Instead of spending long nights at the newspaper like she used to, she now stayed home painting. She became a Home Depot and Lowes junkie, roaming the aisles in her free time, comparing styles and prices on new appliances and bathroom tiles and crown molding. She had already painted almost every room in the house, and had me help her pick out new granite countertops for the kitchen. She had bought new living room furniture as well, including two new leather sofas with studs down the side seams, a coffee table that looked like an old treasure chest, and lamps made out of juniper branches.

We had a small savings account our mom left us when she died. Personally, I could think of lots of other things I would have used the money for. But it seemed important to Kate in a way I didn’t fully understand.

Our little house had never looked so good.

She leaned back in her chair and stared off, deep in thought. She smiled finally, looking at her scone.

I hesitated and then went for it.

“So what did you want to talk about?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said. “I know you said I should choose the paint color for your room, but I’m torn between two. Do you have a preference?”

She pulled out two small paint chips and handed them to me.

I smiled, relieved as I looked them over.

When I drowned in that mountain lake almost four years ago, I was brought back to life but some things were different. Since the accident I see people’s energy circulating around them and can read how they are feeling. I see ghosts occasionally. And although I haven’t had one in a while, sometimes I have visions.

The other big change is that I’m color blind and live in a world of blacks, whites, and grays.

I handed Kate the darker shade.

“This one,” I said.

 “Good,” she said. “Want a bite?”

“No, thanks.”

I was trying to cut down on my pastry intake, which had skyrocketed since I began working here. I felt sluggish when I practiced or went for runs. Soccer season was still a few months away, but it was time to get ready.

 I watched three cyclists walk in and get in line. They were all wearing those tight-fitting racing outfits with numbers and geometric designs all over. Maybe there was an event in town, but even with the mild winter, it still seemed too early for bike races.   

“So, what are you and Ty up to this weekend?” Kate asked.

“Probably catch a movie,” I said.

Kate smiled as I yawned.

“He’s really serious about you. I mean he’s still hanging around even after you made him watch
Water for Elephants
over at the house the other night.”

“Yeah, that was a real dog,” I said. “I’m letting him pick the next one.”

“Hey, how did you sleep last night?”

I shrugged, and as if on cue, yawned again.

“Same.”

I didn’t like to talk too much about my nights. I didn’t want her to worry and I especially didn’t want her to start in again about me going back to see my old psychiatrist, Dr. Krowe. I knew she heard me sometimes when I was up, walking around the house, waiting for my fear to settle down and dissipate so I could catch at least a few hours of sleep. No matter how quiet I tried to be, the house creaked under my feet at those hours. Plus, Kate was a light sleeper.

She stared at me.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Really. It’s getting better, I think.”

“Bull,” she said. “Look, Abby, I know you don’t want to take sleeping pills, and I get that. But if you don’t start getting some regular sleep soon, your system is going to break down. You are going to break down. You aren’t looking that great. You can’t go on like this.”

She said she did, but she didn’t get it. I had had a bad reaction to the drugs Nathaniel gave me when he kidnapped me. The pain was so horrible I thought I would die. But it was nothing compared to the feelings of helplessness, loss of control, and being held prisoner. In my head that’s what sleeping pills meant and it would be a cold day in hell before I took them.

“I know all that,” I said anyway. “A few more weeks. If it doesn’t get better, I’ll go see him, get the pills and everything. Promise.”

Kate sighed and stretched.

“All right,” she said. “A few more weeks, but that’s it. It’s normal, you know. You’ve been through a traumatic event. They treat these conditions successfully. I’ve been doing research on it.”

I held back a sigh of my own.

“I’m going to send you some links. Just read about it, okay?”

“Yeah,” I said.

I wasn’t sure why, but seeing Dr. Krowe felt like going backwards. I agreed with what Kate was saying, that I needed to start having normal sleep again. But seeing him again and discussing all the things that had happened didn’t feel right. Kate wasn’t going to stop though and it made me glad that I hadn’t told her about all the nightmares.

She stood up.

“I gotta get going,” she said. “What time will you be home?”

“I’m practicing after work so not until after seven.”

“Riverbend Park?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Is Ty meeting you?”

“No, Kate. But I’ll be okay. Lots of people are always there and the sun stays out late these days.”

“Okay,” she said. “Don’t forget to call when you’re on your way home.”

“I won’t.”

It still took some getting used to, having to check in with Kate all the time. But after what had happened with Jack Martin in the parking lot, I always made sure to call her and let her know where I was, especially if I was by myself.

“I won’t forget,” I repeated.

She packed up her computer and notebook and shoved them into her bag.

She waved goodbye and walked through the crowd and out the door.

CHAPTER 4

A misty rain fell from a blinding, white sky as I ran up to the far end of the grass and threw down my water bottle. I didn’t mind getting wet. It felt good being outside, and at least it wasn’t snowing.

I zipped up the Barcelona jacket Ty had gotten me for Christmas and then scrolled to the new playlist I had put together the night before. I put my keys deep in my pocket before starting, the soccer ball sluggish at my feet in the wet grass.

Even with the cold rain there were a lot of people at the park. A few were walking their dogs. A group of young women ran past me, their voices and breathing loud, mixing in with the beat of my music. A mom pushed a baby stroller on the cement path that skirted the grass.

I hit the timer on my watch and started running, thinking about soccer. Jack Martin suddenly popped into my mind.

It wasn’t like I thought Jack would come back for me. I knew that with Nathaniel dead, so was the research. And really, Jack had been nothing more than a glorified assistant, a henchman. The FBI investigators told us that while he was still a wanted fugitive, they doubted that he would ever return for me. It would have been too much of a risk and they suspected he was probably living under another alias in another country.

I didn’t lose any sleep over him. What made me uncomfortable was that just about everyone who played soccer through Parks and Rec knew Jack. Or they thought they knew him. And when we both went missing following an indoor soccer game last November, rumors had started.

According to one story, Jack and I had eloped. A few people joked about wedding presents and asked where we had registered. Even though the whole idea made me sick, I tried to play along, not wanting to appear too defensive or that I had something to hide. That I knew something.

But at some point the jokes stopped and some of his friends began to worry that something had happened to him. They filed a missing person report, but the police told them that the authorities were already looking for him, that “Jack Martin” was a person of interest in an FBI investigation.

There had to be a mistake, his friends said. He wasn’t the kind of person to be involved in something like that, whatever that
something
was. I couldn’t help thinking about all those crime shows I used to watch late at night. There were always those friends and neighbors of killers saying that the murderer was “such a nice guy.”

I almost laughed thinking I would have felt the same way about him before. Before he kidnapped me, I had thought Jack was a nice guy too. That’s how he was able to kidnap me. Even though I had noticed his strange energy on more than one occasion, I was sure he was a friend. The whole experience had left me feeling stupid and angry at myself. But I was determined to learn from it and move on.