Chapter 10 #2
For a long moment, Michael had no idea if he was about to be dismissed as a grieving father hoping to exonerate his son.
Finally, Barclay said, “Let’s hear the rest.”
At Miss Molly’s, everything came to a halt during the busy lunch hour as regular TV programming was interrupted to carry federal Agent Nathan Barclay’s chilling announcement that a serial rapist was targeting popular young cheerleaders in Rhode Island and Connecticut.
With Chief Westbury standing next to him at the podium, Agent Barclay said the investigation was focused on Granville in part because of disturbing notes found in five places around town, including the graves of the three cheerleaders killed in the 1995 car accident on Tucker Road.
As she heard that for the first time, Carly’s legs gave out under her, and she sat down hard on one of the stools at the counter.
Agent Barclay called on young people to travel in groups and to be wary.
He added a further warning to young women who had once been cheerleaders.
“We’re looking for a dangerous predator who’s targeting cheerleaders and ex-cheerleaders,” Barclay concluded.
“However, I urge all young women between the ages of thirteen and thirty-five to be highly vigilant, especially in wooded areas, until he’s apprehended. ”
The twenty-minute press conference ended without the agent taking any questions from the media. Patrons of Miss Molly’s, stunned by the news, conversed in low murmurs rather than their usual boisterous tones.
Molly Hanson rested a hand on Carly’s shoulder. “Are you all right, honey? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
Trying to shake off the unease that had settled over her, Carly nodded.
“Disturbing,” was Molly’s take on it. “Could be someone who sits at one of my tables every day.”
The thought sent a cold shiver of fear through Carly as she glanced around the room full of familiar faces. These were people she had known all her life. The idea that she or anyone else could have reason to fear one of them was absurd.
Molly brushed a loving hand over Carly’s cheek. “Do you feel up to working?”
Embarrassed that the news had rattled her so deeply, Carly nodded, got up, and reached for the coffee pot to do refills.
“Carly,” her coworker Debby called from behind the counter. She waved Carly over to her. In a low tone, Debby said, “Chief Westbury called for you. He asked that you wait for him here when your shift ends. He wants to talk to you.”
Carly smiled her thanks and began her rounds with the coffee, wondering if the chief wanted to talk to her about the notes she had found. What else could it be? I guess I’ll find out soon enough.
Michael Westbury felt the eyes of the town on him as he walked from the station to Miss Molly’s just before two. If he were a regular citizen, he supposed he, too, would be wondering why the man charged with keeping their town safe had failed so miserably.
Desmond Kane, a member of the volunteer fire department, stopped him outside the hardware store.
“What do you know, Mike?”
“Not as much as I should,” Michael muttered. He glanced down at Desmond’s feet and found them to be normal sized.
“You really think this guy lives here?”
Michael shrugged. “The only thing I know for sure is he has a beef with cheerleaders.”
“I heard he did a real job on Tanya Lewis,” Desmond said, his interest in knowing more about just what had been done to Tanya apparent on his face.
It disgusted Michael that people always wanted the details, especially in sex crimes.
If they could see the pictures and read the reports, they wouldn’t be so curious.
The images were burned into Michael’s brain, and he wouldn’t wish them on his worst enemy.
“Take care, Desmond,” Michael said, continuing down Main Street.
Miss Molly’s had emptied out for the day, and Carly was working with the other waitresses to clean up. She looked up with a smile when Michael walked in and sat in a corner booth.
Carly brought him a steaming cup of coffee and patted her stomach, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“I’m good, thanks.”
With her fingers, she suggested a little something.
He smiled. “Okay. You pick.”
She came back with a slice of Molly’s famous chocolate cake.
He groaned. “Mary Ann’s going to flip when she gets home next week and sees how fat I’ve gotten.”
Carly crinkled up her face and shook her head in disagreement.
“Don’t let me interrupt your work. I can wait until you’re done.”
She held up both hands to tell him she needed ten more minutes.
“Take your time. I’ll enjoy this sinful cake you forced on me.”
Leaving him with a smile, she went to finish refilling the creamers and sugar bowls in preparation for the next morning.
By the time she joined him in the booth, the rest of the staff had left.
Molly flipped the open sign on the locked door, came over to say hello to Michael, and then went to her office in the back of the building to do some paperwork.
Carly tugged out a pad and pen. “Tough day for you,” she wrote.
“Tough month.”
“You look tired.”
“I’m not sleeping very well these days.”
“You really think it’s someone who lives here?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” He put down his fork and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “Carly . . . I don’t want to frighten you, but . . .” He looked around to make sure they were still alone. “It’s possible, but not definite, that there’s a connection to the accident.”
Carly stared at him for a long moment before she wrote, “The guy in the road?”
“Yes. Brian told you what happened to him?”
She nodded. “After the accident. After he remembered it.”
“I hate to dredge up your memories of that night, but you never did give us a statement about what you saw, so I need to ask . . .”
Her nod gave him permission to continue.
“Was anyone else there besides you, Brian, and the driver who stopped to help you? Did you see anyone else before the police and firefighters arrived?”
Michael watched as Carly let her mind wander back to that fateful night. She trembled, so he reached for her hand. “Take your time, honey. I know it’s hard to think about.”
“I can almost still smell the fire,” she wrote and then shook off the memory so she could tell him what he needed to know. “But no one else was there, at least not that I can recall. I kind of lost it when I saw . . .” She looked up at him, her eyes bright with tears.
“What did you see?” Michael’s stomach twisted with anxiety as he waited for details he didn’t really want to know.
“I saw them burning. I started to scream and couldn’t stop, like I was outside of myself watching someone else. It was surreal.”
He squeezed her hand, his heart hurting for her, for both of them. “There’s more I need to tell you, facts about the case we haven’t made public. I know I don’t need to say it, but they’re things we don’t want anyone to know.”
Her smile was rich with the absurdity of him asking her, of all people, to keep a secret.
Because he was concerned about her safety and knew he could trust her—and would’ve been able to trust her even if she could speak—he shared his theory about the five-year pattern.
“We think it began with the accident, which means it’s most likely someone you, Brian, and the others went to school with.
” Pausing to let that settle, he continued.
“Do you still have your yearbooks from high school?”
Seeming shocked by what he had said, she nodded.
“Can you flip through them tonight? We’re looking for someone who might’ve had issues with you, Brian, or one of the others in the car.
Someone who had a beef over what he saw as your easy success in school, in sports, in social situations, where he might not have had it so good.
If you think of anyone who meets those criteria, write down his name for me.
Think also about boys you and the other girls might’ve dated before Brian, Sam, Pete, and Toby. ”
He hated the overwhelmed expression on her face but pressed on anyway, knowing he had to do this. “I talked to Brian about the case last night. He made an interesting point.”
Carly brightened at the mention of his son, which pleased Michael for reasons he couldn’t take the time to process just then. “He suggested the person our perp was hoping to kill that night on Tucker Road might not have been in the car.”
She sucked in a deep breath.
“You could be in danger, Carly,” he said gently. “It’s possible the notes you found were intentionally put in places you were likely to find them.”
“Why me?” she wrote, her hand shaking ever so slightly.
“I don’t know. That’s what I need you to think about. Go back in time to before you started dating Brian. Who might’ve been put out by you getting a new boyfriend?”
“It was twenty years ago,” she wrote.
“That’s why I want you to take some time to think about it. In the meantime, let’s talk about your schedule.”
Her face twisted with confusion. “My schedule?”
“Your routine.” He didn’t want to mention yet that his officers would be keeping a close eye on her. “What days do you work here?”
Tentatively, she wrote, “Sunday through Thursday, six to two.”
“Do you have certain things you do after work on various days?”
She nodded. “Mondays in the spring and summer I go to the accident site, Tuesdays I watch my niece and nephew for a few hours so Caren can do some errands. On Wednesdays, I volunteer at the animal shelter. Walk the dogs, etc.”
“Busy girl,” Michael said with a smile.
Shrugging, she continued. “Thursday afternoons in the summer, I go to my niece Zoe’s baseball games at Columbia Park. Fridays I chill out and do laundry and stuff at home. Saturdays I spend at whatever games my other nieces and nephews have—soccer, baseball, lacrosse.”
“Sundays you go to five o’clock mass at St. Mary’s, right?”
She nodded. “And then dinner at my parents’ when they’re in town. That’s pretty much it.”
Knowing what could have been, Michael was saddened by the lack of friends and a man in such a beautiful woman’s life. It was a small life by some people’s standards, but it would’ve been even smaller had her father not forced her back into the world.
“You guys are going to be stalking me, aren’t you?” she wrote, the resignation showing in her eyes.
“I promised my son I’d keep you safe,” Michael said with a wry smile.
Carly’s eyes flew up to meet his.
“He’s worried about you,” Michael said, aware he was picking at something that might be better left alone.
“Maybe I should be worried about him. He wasn’t in the car, either.”
Michael shook his head. “This guy likes girls.”
“But if your theory is true, the guy you’re looking for might be jealous of Brian. Maybe he was after both of us.”
“Possibly,” Michael conceded. “However, because you’re here and Brian isn’t, I’m more worried about you.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small can, putting it on the table in front of her.
With the lift of her chin, she asked what it was.
“Pepper spray. I want you to carry it with you everywhere you go. If you step outside your door, I want you to have it with you. Use it if you feel even the slightest bit threatened, and even if it’s someone you know and think you can trust.” He leaned in, his forearms resting on the table, and took her hands.
“It’s going to be someone you know, Carly, someone we all know.
Hesitating, even for a second, could make all the difference.
Trust your gut. If it’s telling you you’re in danger, you probably are. ”
Carly freed one hand from his hold and ran her fingers over the can.
Michael showed her how to use it. “Aim for the face, the eyes preferably.”
She shuddered and stared at the can for a long moment.
“What are you thinking?”
Picking up the pen, she wrote, “I’m scared.”
“I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe. All right?”
Her face pale and pinched with anxiety, she looked him in the eye and nodded.