Chapter 3
THREE
“I want a seat on the board,” David said in a tight voice.
Dawn ground her teeth, her grip on the shears unwavering as she trimmed the hedges in the garden.
Leaves fluttered at her feet in an uneven pile before dancing in the air.
It was another gloomy day in Pineview Falls.
A gray sky with spinning clouds and whooshing wind.
“Getting a seat on the board isn’t like floating in on a breeze, David. ”
“I’ve worked hard, Mother. You know it.”
Dawn continued shaping the hedge. “The problem with your generation is your sense of entitlement.” She dropped the shears on the ground and removed her gloves with a huff.
“Working hard doesn’t mean you are deserving.
You have to be good at what you do.” She turned around to find his face flushing red and his thick eyebrows knitted in a frown.
“When I was your age, I was busy busting my ass trying to make ends meet because your father had dragged us into debt. And you know what I got in return? His infidelity.”
“Yes, yes, I know, Mother. I don’t know why we go over this every?—”
“Because you are yet to learn that life is unfair,” Dawn snapped. “Accept your failures. You aren’t ready.”
He blanched at her words. “How can I become ready? I care about this company.”
Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized her forty-four-year-old son with a receding hairline, thick round glasses, and unkind eyes, wild with desperation.
A longing to prove himself. “There’s a board meeting at the end of the week.
I need to focus on that first.” She had barely slept these past few weeks.
It wasn’t that long ago when she had woken to the news that had shattered her peace like a smashed mirror.
And the last thing Dawn needed right now was her son demanding a share of the pie, only to make the situation worse by his inadequacy.
She breezed past him to head back to the office when his voice came again.
“Will you ever forgive me?” His voice cracked.
Dawn’s eyes flitted to the secluded alcove on her left with a wrought-iron bench under the dappled shade of a centuries-old oak.
A lone wooden swing swayed from a willow branch.
The unfurling cobblestone path was bordered by rosebushes.
The only sounds were bees humming and water trickling down a tiered fountain.
The little corner that Dawn had designed and constructed all by herself.
An oasis in the otherwise dreary town of Pineview Falls.
The part of the garden that breathed a story.
The story of the child she had lost. Her eyes landed on the grave.
Dawn didn’t have the heart to say no. It seemed cruel. So she replied with silence and walked away, feeling lost like an untethered shadow.
Sheriff Lisa Gray stared at the pamphlet on her desk.
Enter if you’re brave. Survive if you can.
Pineview Falls Carnival.
The glossy paper was a splash of colors displaying roller coasters, bumper cars, food stalls of cotton candy and funnel cakes, game stands from ring toss to dunk tanks, and the main attraction dominating the pamphlet: Fun House, a haunted house experience.
Lisa felt shards of glass clog her throat as she swallowed hard.
“What has the world come to?” She stared at Fun House, a rusty structure with cracked windows, peeling paint, rotting wooden siding, and cobwebs in corners.
The front porch consisted of a caved-in railing, and broken steps that led to a torn screen door.
“I swear, Lisa, she makes me feel like a weekend subscription.” The deputy sheriff, Toby, sat across from her, his shoulders tense, his fat fingers interlaced over his beer belly. “Enjoy your limited time as a father. Expires on Sunday at 6 p.m.”
She smirked, putting the pamphlet away. “You should check if there’s an auto-renew option.”
“Very funny,” he said flatly.
“You want more time with your kid, go talk to a lawyer.”
“Lawyers are snakes in fancy suits,” he grumbled, chewing a toothpick. “The last two I spoke with burned a hole in my wallet and used fancy words that went over my head.”
“I’ll give you a dictionary bonus at Christmas.”
“You’re in a mood today.”
Lisa flipped through the reports piling up on her desk.
Delinquent teenagers getting into trouble around town.
This wasn’t how she had imagined her life would be the day she decided to get into law enforcement.
The sparkling glamour surrounding the job had dried up after her first week busting crackheads around town.
Because Pineview Falls was only known for two things: the fire of 1995, and drugs.
“I don’t even know if my kid knows that I want to spend more time with him,” Toby continued. “The worry you carry constantly when you have a kid… You’re lucky you don’t have any.”
Lisa froze, her breath imprisoned in her chest. Her eyes drifted to Toby who blankly stared out the window that looked onto the back alley of a Chinese restaurant. Little did he know how “lucky” she felt when this morning she got her period—again.
They were interrupted when a deputy waltzed in with a report. “Remember that 911 call yesterday from the man saying his wife hadn’t come home after work?”
“Yeah.” Lisa uncapped a bottle of painkillers. “What about it?”
“He called again asking if we’re looking into it.”
Before Lisa could reply, Toby rolled his eyes. “Tell him to stay put and let us do our jobs. Jesus Christ.”
Lisa pursed her lips in disapproval, but she didn’t chide him.
She felt it too—the mundaneness of this colorless brick building blunting her thoughts and curiosity.
Sometimes she wondered if she was living the same day over and over again.
It was locking up one sallow-skinned, scab-covered man with greasy, patchy hair and arms covered in clusters of dark dots after another.
She knew them by name, knew more about them than their pillaged brains did.
But this deputy was young and hungry. He was yet to learn that life only got worse as time went by.
“She’s an adult and there is no evidence of foul play. We will wait out the standard twenty-four-hour period since her last sighting,” she explained gently. “Just tell him that.”
The deputy looked disappointed as he left the office.
“Ah, young blood,” Toby said. “The only form of entertainment around here.”
Lisa swallowed her pills. “We should bring back hazing. Just to kill some time.” She flipped open the dispatcher’s report on the call.
The woman’s name popped out—Annabelle Stevens. Lisa liked the name and added it to her list. When her phone buzzed with a notification, she saw it was an email from the clinic.
Dear Mrs. Gray,
We hope this email finds you well. Your recent fertility test results from Horizon Fertility Clinic are now available. At this time, we would like to discuss your results with you. Please use the link below to schedule an appointment…
Her vision blurred as she was unable to read the following words. They wanted her to call, which probably meant that the results were bad. A prickle formed in her heart.
How was she going to break the news to her husband?
Zoe opened a box of donuts lathered in chocolate sauce and icing and brandished it under Simon’s nose, which was buried in a file.
He took a deep whiff and looked up. His eyes gleamed with a lazy debauchery. “What do you want?”
She knew Simon’s biggest weakness, as it was hers too. Sugar. It was the reason the two had bonded at Quantico when she was training and he was a guest lecturer.
“A favor.”
“I figured.” He reached for the box, but she whipped it away and planted herself on the chair across from him. “You’re never just nice to me for no reason.”
She flashed him an exaggerated smile. “I am, but a bribe goes a long way. Surely, you’ve learned that as the special agent in charge here.”
He chuckled. “Okay, give it to me.”
“Viktor Axenov. Do you know the name?” She kept her expression passive. Simon didn’t know what had transpired a month ago at Harborwood and she had no intention of telling him. He liked her—a little too much—something that turned her stomach since he was married.
He thought about it. “No. Should I?”
“Can you look into him?” She had tracked down his name from a bus ticket in Harborwood but there was no record of him in the FBI database. “I need anything on him. And I know you have access to a lot more resources than I do.”
“Okay…” Simon’s eyes narrowed as he twisted on his chair. “This is the part where you tell me why.”
“This is the part where I tell you it’s personal.”
“Come on, Z.”
Warmth trickled down her spine when he called her by her nickname, like he did when they were together many years ago. “Please. It’s for Gina. My sister. Something’s going on. Nothing super serious. But I can’t find anything on him. Anything would do. Other than his name, of course.”
He blinked and shifted in his seat. “All right. I’ll do it.” He scribbled the name on a notepad. “Sounds like the name of a Russian mobster. Is Gina’s bakery a front for the KGB?”
“The KGB dissolved in 1991.”
“Or did it?” His eyes widened.
She snickered. Simon appeared more relaxed to her.
She tried not to think too much about why he was in a good mood even though his wife, Nancy, had asked to spend some time apart.
Deep down she knew the answer. She knew why Nancy had left.
She knew how Simon looked at Zoe and it left her brimming with both shame and pity.
“Thanks, Simon.” She stood up and headed back to her desk.
Simon would find something, and she would go from there.
She eyed the bustling office of FBI Seattle with suspicion.
Like she was waiting for someone to jump out at her.
Or someone watching her. She scanned the room for any hint of deception or even the slightest crack in normalcy.
She knew she was being watched. That’s how that man—Viktor—had forced his way into her motel room, beaten her up, stolen a key to the safety deposit box in Chicago, and warned her to stop trying to find out the truth about what happened to Rachel.
Was she being watched now ? She must be.
Her eyes flitted across the room. Everyone was familiar to her.
Her colleagues. Agents and admin staff—all vetted thoroughly.
Then why could she sense a hostile gaze on her?
Why were the hairs on the back of her neck standing up?
Why was her blood bubbling under her skin and making her toes curl?
It was the natural response of a prey sensing a predator. A harsh and heavy presence right over her shoulder.
When she reached her desk, she stopped at the sight of an envelope addressed to her. She tore it open without thinking, spilling the contents onto the desk, and gasped, stepping back.
A lock of blonde hair, neatly tied with a red ribbon. And a note.
Like the snap of an elastic, her mind switched gears. She grabbed the first person walking past and instructed him to find Simon. She didn’t see or wait for a response. Her vision tunneled on the lock of hair drizzled with what looked like flecks of dried blood.
Her heart skittered in her chest and her lips quivered. Slowly, she picked up a pen and used it to open the folded piece of paper.
Ticktock goes the clock
Annabelle lies beneath the rock
W eeping roots will not betray.
O nce she begged, now she sleeps,
L ocked in silence, six feet deep.
L ast breath stolen, fingers curled,
E ver rotting, beneath this world.
M arrow blackens, flesh turns stone,
I f you find her, you’re not alone.