Unbelievable (28 page)

“Ok, so like, what are you looking for exactly? These talk about the murders.” She slipped the small film into the huge machine and scrolled to the story titled
Murder in the
Park
.

It detailed the gruesome murder of a young woman named
Tammy Byrne by an unknown assailant. In graphic detail, it described the carving up of the poor woman’s body with a knife. Alan. No doubt in my mind.

“So, this guy, like, we found out later, was named Alan Dreser, and he killed half a dozen girls with a knife. A
pearl handled
knife.” She brought up two more stories, each more gruesome than the last. There was also a story about Bill trying to kill an unidentified young woman, and an older gentleman named Samuel Gatto, but the man outsmarted him and Bill was killed instead.

Samuel Gatto
. He had to be related to Booker somehow.

“What about Maggie Prescott? Didn’t I hear that someone tried to kill her?” My voice shook as I spoke, but Bambi didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she assumed anyone’s voice would quiver after reading about violent murders.

“Maggie Brown, well, Prescott now. Wasn’t her wedding beautiful?” she swooned. I nodded as she slipped in a new film.

The door to the room opened and an older woman dipped her head in before Bambi found the article.

“Sorry, dear. The computer’s doing that funny thing again. I tried to fix it, but I’m afraid I only made it worse. Could you help me? It should only take a moment.”

“Sure thing, Millie.” The woman nodded and left. “This may take a minute. Last time she messed with the computer, we had to, like, shut the entire system down and reboot,” Bambi giggled. “Scroll around a little, and you should be able to find it.”

I scrolled until I found a picture of Alan, his evil eyes glaring at me. Feelings of hatred gripped me. Under the photo it stated:
Drug smuggler, shot dead
.

I read the article. It spoke of broken bones, a punctured lung, multiple bruises and cuts, along with a concussion. Only none of it applied to Alan. They were the injuries Maggie suffered at his hand. I leaned back in my chair, fighting the need to vomit.

Bambi returned. “Oh good, you found it. Unreal, right? I like that part about her shooting him, like, right between the eyes and him dropping dead. Pretty awesome, huh?” Bambi glanced at me and the smile left her face. “I’ll go and get you something to drink. Don’t faint on me.” She let the room, returning back just as quickly.

“She’s okay now. You don’t need to worry. She told me herself that she’s healed completely, with only a few scars left.” Bambi handed me the glass of cool water and I drank it slowly, letting the cold pull me back from the dreadful abyss.

“Thanks.” I handed her the glass. “Would you mind if I finished reading these alone?” I had no idea why I needed to finish reading the articles. Penance, maybe?

“Sure, if you think you’ll be al
l right.”

I nodded and she left me alone in the little room. It took me a half hour to read all the articles. Tears accompanied each word. No wonder Booker hated me. I hated me and I hadn’t done anything. I was the spawn of Satan, plain and simple.

“Please don’t read anymore.” Through my sobbing, I hadn’t heard Maggie entering the room. I recoiled as she reached over and turned the machine off. The haunting words in front of me faded instantly. She sat in the chair next to mine, covering my hands with hers.

“I’m sorry,” I sputtered out with my tears. “So very sorry.” I broke down and she gathered me in her arms.

“Don’t say things like that, Lilah. It’s not true.” Maggie rubbed her hand in small circles on my back in an effort to comfort me.

“Why do you care? Why? I don’t get it. My family is . . . horrible.” She handed me a tissue and I blew my nose.

“Lilah, it wouldn’t be fair for me to judge you by what your family did.”

“Maggie! They’re drug smuggling murderers, not used car salesmen!”

That made her smile. “Okay, you have a point, but you’re not like them. Right?”

“No! Of course not, but still, they were, and in the case of my father,
still are
horrible people,” I explained to her needlessly. “I have my father’s blood coursing through my veins. I come from bad seed.”

“Lilah, you can’t control where you come from, you can only control what you do and where you’re going,” she assured me. “The minute I saw your brothers, I knew they were …evil. Sorry.” She looked at me as if what she said was a bad thing. “But I’ve never gotten that vibe, if you will, from you, and I’ve been around you a lot more.”

“So because I don’t give off some evil vibe I’m okay? Maggie, did you ever stop to think that maybe I’m a really good liar?”

She didn’t answer for a minute as she thought over my suggestion. “Are you?”

“Yes!”

“Then why did you save me from that car the day we were looking at wedding dresses? Why did you help me with my pathetic hair, and with my wedding?”

“I was supposed to befriend you so I could get your financial information for my dad. He told me you, Seth and Booker stole our money and he wanted to get it back,” I pointed out.

“You’re making a good case for Booker’s take on all this, you know.” She smiled. “If you’re really here to do all that, then why are you in this stuffy little room reading those horrible newspaper articles about what happened three years ago, crying like a baby? Not to mention referring to yourself as spawn of Satan?”

“Because I am.” And I broke down again. I threw my arms onto the desk and dropped my head onto them. Absolutely pathetic.

“Lilah, you chose not to steal from us. You were the one who confronted Cole and told him everything. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but a spawn of Satan wouldn’t do that.” She patted my back. “Besides, you gave Booker the information you took from him, and you told him you knew his security code. If you’re really evil like you claim, sorry to tell you this, but you suck at it.”

I looked at her. “You don’t hate me?” She shook her head. “And Seth doesn’t hate me?”

She hesitated for a moment. “He doesn’t hate you, but I’m not going to lie, he’s concerned. See that woman over in the science fiction section?” I looked out the glass door to see a tall older woman browsing through a Star Wars comic book. She quickly turned her back when she saw us watching her.

“That’s a coworker of Seth’s. Jenny Bynum, and she doesn’t strike me as the
Star Wars
type, know what I mean?”

I chuckled
weakly. “Booker wants me in jail.”

“Yes. Well, Booker’s an enigma unto himself. He’s been through a lot, Lilah, and it’s left him a very complex man. He’ll come around, and when he does he’ll be your biggest supporter.”

“Right.” I dried my face and put the microfiche back in the envelope. We walked over to Bambi together.

“Here’s the books you wanted, Maggie.” She handed Maggie a small stack of books before turning to me. “I’m sorry, Lilah. I didn’t realize this would upset you so much.” She took the envelope from me. “It was an ugly time, that’s for sure, with Maggie, like, almost dying and all.”

Maggie grabbed my elbow. “Thanks Bambi, tell Alex hi for me.” She aimed me for the door and we left.

“Have you ever met Alex?” I asked as we walked arm and arm through the parking lot.

“No, but I’m dying to.” We both giggled.

She led me to her car. “Where are we going?” I asked as we got in.

“I’ve been debating something in my head for a few months now. Seeing you in there, so upset, just helped me make up my mind. It’ll be the perfect way for us both to put the past behind us.” She looked at my wary expression and laughed. “Trust me.”

Chapter
24

“I’ve lost Cole.” I twisted up the A/C in Maggie’s stifling car.

“Lilah, he said you didn’t break up, he just needed some time to deal with
everything,” Maggie assured me.

“You’ve known him longer than I have, but I’m pretty sure he’ll never forgive me for what I’ve done,” I said, biting my lip.

“Cole’s sensible. He needs to think things through, study it all out. Just give him time. I know he still loves you,” she said.

Her encouragement fell on deaf ears. “You didn’t see his face.” I shook my head. “I’ll never forget the look in his eyes, even if I live to be a hundred.”

“Cole’s been funny lately. It started before you moved here. He’s been . . . I don’t know, restless. He’s tried to find interests outside of the hospital, but he hasn’t quite found one that fits him well,” she explained as we drove toward the park. “His clumsiness hasn’t helped, but I think that, too, has to do with the way he is. He’s a thinker. He usually has paper and a pencil in his hand as he thinks about . . . everything. I’ve even seen him take notes on his hand if there’s no paper handy.”

“It’s one of his most endearing traits,” I said to myself more than to Maggie.

“He comes by it naturally. His dad designs bridges, and his mom’s a statistician. He’s doomed to be a thinker,” she said.

I dropped my head against the headrest. He had to forgive me. He just had to.

“I like your hair, by the way,” she said.

“Thanks.” I could finally use my hair products again to tame the frizzes away.

“And you don’t have glasses on either. Contacts?” Maggie asked.

“No. My vision’s fine. Those were a lie, too.” I turned my head in shame, staring blankly out the window.

We made a right after Applegate Park and drove down a narrow road a few hundred yards, pulling up in front of a dilapidated blue trailer. This part of town wasn’t the best. A dead body could sit and rot in a dumpy trailer like that for a long time before being discovered.

“I grew up here,” she said. “Just me and my mom. Now that she’s gone, and Seth and I are married, there’s no need to keep it.” Her mouth said the words, but her tone said something completely different. Obviously she struggled with the idea of letting go.

“I want to give the place an overhaul, from top to bottom,” she said firmly as we walked up the small pathway to the door.

I glared at the beat
-up trailer. The only thing that would help it was a wrecking ball, that much I was sure of.

She fidgeted with the key before slipping it into the lock. The door creaked open slowly and a feeling of foreboding crept into my soul. I didn’t want to go inside. I didn’t want to know the things that went on in there.

“I’ve not been here since…” Maggie didn’t finish, instead, pushing the door open wide. A thick wave of super-heated air rushed out, smacking us in the face. “Sorry. We couldn’t afford A/C. It can be like an oven in here. If you open the windows in the bedrooms there’s a decent cross breeze, some days.”

Maggie moved to the living room window and threw it open, sucking in a lungful of outside air.

“I’ll never forget the smell.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

I inhaled deeply, quickly realizing what she was talking about. It smel
led like my dad after he’d come home late from a business dinner. He didn’t drink often, mostly when he had business meetings.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yes. It’s just that there are a lot of memories here. I’ll be fine,” she assured me. “I want to fix the place up so I can sell it and put it all behind me. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, but after all that’s happened over the past couple days, I’m surer than ever that I need to do it.”

Sorrow poured out of every nook and cranny of the tin home. The place was a disaster, with its beaten down couch and chair in the living area, to a small rickety table and chairs in the adjoining kitchen. Everything carried a thick layer of dust, even the decrepit . . . pillowcases?
which hung as makeshift curtains on the windows. A film of filth clouded the windows, and the paint on the walls had worn so thin the cheap wallboard, common in trailers, shone through. I wanted to leave, to stop the eerie feelings from invading me, but I couldn’t. I didn’t believe in ghosts, but this place felt haunted. I walked slowly through the small space, taking in the feelings of emptiness pecking at me from every corner.