Chapter 44 Louise #2
Smiling, I indulged in the memory. “I remember that day so vividly. The sun was setting, glittering streaks of fuchsia and gold over brightly colored tents and giggling children. It looked like a postcard. Once the families realized I was taking pictures for the newspaper, I became almost as popular as the miniature ponies…” I paused.
“I’m avoiding a self-deprecating butt comment here, just so you know. ”
“Small steps. Good job.”
“Anyway,” I grinned, then continued, “as I clicked away, I remember feeling like something came to life inside me. I was having so much fun. I loved the thought of capturing moments that would last forever. I loved finding the angles, the light, the perfect backgrounds. I stayed for hours, taking pictures, laughing, connecting with strangers. And that was it. I found my calling, my passion. You know the saying a picture is worth a thousand words?”
He nodded, hanging on my every word.
“It’s so true. Sometimes when you’re talking to someone, you see them, but you don’t see them, if that makes sense.
Photographs are a way to capture our spirit, who we truly are.
They give us a tangible way to reflect, to remember.
Capturing a family’s most intimate moments is an honor.
Seeing their smiles when they see the pictures. ”
“There’s that do-gooder in you.”
“Guess so.”
“What made you turn it into a business?”
I smiled. “A woman named Magnus Archer.”
“Sounds like a firecracker.”
I laughed. “She was. Magnus hired me to photograph one of her homes that she intended to sell. She was a widow, very wealthy, who’d spent her life painting.
She was an artist. We took a liking to each other, and for reasons I’ll never understand—and will always be grateful for—Magnus offered to become my guinea pig while I fine-tuned my craft, allowing me to photograph her land, her house, her horses, pets, and even herself.
“I’d take pictures during the afternoon, then we’d sit down with tea in the evenings, go through each one and talk about what I could have done to make it better.
She’s the reason I had the confidence to take the next step and start my business.
She believed in me. A total stranger believed in me.
The day she died, I decided to pay that forward.
I signed up to be a sponsor at the Sunshine Club, a local program for underprivileged children. ”
“And that’s how you met Kara.”
I nodded. “And now, eight years later, I found her murdered in the mountains of Berry Springs.” I blew out a breath, shaking my head. “Kara reminded me a lot of myself. A drifter, spontaneous, no real direction. I felt a kindred spirit with her.”
“Louise, this isn’t your fault.”
“I know, but I feel like maybe if I would have mentored her better—”
“Stop. It’s not your fault. No one could have stopped me the night I did what I did. You can’t control everyone.”
My brows arched. “You need to say that in the mirror.”
“Message received. But seriously, you’ve got to let the authorities handle it. This isn’t your job.”
“Oh no, no, no,” I wagged my finger at him, “you don’t get to lecture about jobs. Why won’t you go back to work at Astor Stone? It’s obvious they want you back, and you told me how much you loved it.”
“Why don’t you fill the hole in your life by fulfilling your dream of doing something that matters?”
Nodding, I swallowed. Ryder and I were both in a rut. In a weird state of limbo in this thing called life, trying to figure out our next move, but not knowing how to take the next step. Or perhaps not courageous enough to.
“What was it like?” I asked after a beat.
“Prison?”
“Yeah.”
“Hot.”
“Hot?” It was the least expected response.
“Yeah. You’d probably think cold, right? Nope. Hundreds of felons packed behind concrete walls, restless, constantly moving. I went to bed every night drenched in sweat.”
The epiphany hit me. “That’s why you keep your house so cold.”
He nodded. “It’s nothing you’d understand unless you experience it. It truly is hell on earth.”
“Was there violence?”
“Every single day. Some days every hour, it seemed.”
“Did you get in fights?”
“In the beginning, a lot. My first day, someone jumped me. I laid him out. Broke his jaw, a few ribs. Spent three days in solitary confinement. After that, a few more. I won each fight, and eventually I earned some respect.”
“Did you make any friends?”
“No.”
“In ten years, you didn’t make a single friend?”
“No. I’d go days without speaking a single word.”
“What did you do to pass the time?”
He looked over, a grin brightening his solemn face. “I read romance novels.”
I laughed.
“Seriously, I read. So much. Every kind of book I could get my hands on. Anyway… every new guy who came in had something to prove. You’d have to be on your toes until he kicked someone’s ass, or his ass got kicked.
Then you’d relax until the next new guy.
Ten years of new guys. And you were constantly shuffled around.
So as soon as you’d feel like your current cell mate wasn’t going to kill you, you’d be moved somewhere else and go through it all again.
Every sickness or virus in those places spread like the plague.
So gross. The nights were the worst. Most of the guys couldn’t sleep, so they’d pace in their cells, screaming the craziest stuff you’ve ever heard.
Insane, raging screams, or groans like they were dying.
They’d bang on the walls, rattle the bars. It was terrible.”
“Didn’t they get in trouble for it?”
Ryder’s laugh answered the question. “I was in a cell with two other guys once for a few weeks. Overcrowding is a huge problem in prisons, by the way. Anyway, they took a liking to each other. Every night, they had sex while I pretended to sleep three feet away. For hours. I remember the smell. God, it was awful.” He looked over. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I lied, resisting putting my hand over my churning stomach.
Ryder had truly lived a nightmare. Hell on earth. I couldn’t imagine.
He continued to talk, as if it were a release. “Every time I’d be up for parole, the prosecuting attorney would show the pictures of what I’d done to Ortiz, and parole was denied, every time. Despite the fact that he murdered my unborn baby.”
“What did you do your first day out?”
“My brother picked me up. He had a truck for me. I got in and took off—despite his pleas for me to stay with him—and drove straight to the mountains. I spent the day hiking aimlessly. Swam in the river. Ran in the fields. Slept under the stars that night.” He paused, thoughtfully.
“I was like a wild, untamed mountain man and loved every second of it. I watched the sun rise on the mountain top where I eventually placed two headstones to honor Maci and my baby.”
“When did you get the house?”
“While I was hiking that day, I came across a for sale sign. The next day, I purchased the house—my house now—along with the four hundred surrounding acres. The rest is history.”
“Lots of space.”
“Exactly.”
We walked in silence for a few moments. Drips of melting ice fell from the trees, catching in the sunlight before plopping to the ground.
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t look at me as he apologized.
“For what?”
“For how I treated you the first couple of days. Especially for making you sleep on the floor the first night.”
“You were kind of a jerk.”
“I know. I just…” he sighed. “I’m not used to someone in my space, and that’s an understatement. I don’t—didn’t—want people in my space. I also don’t trust anyone. And the cherry on top of those psychological issues is that spending a decade in prison made me a bit of a germaphobe.”
“You don’t say.” I winked.
He winced. “I really am sorry.”
“I accept your apology because now I understand the whys behind it.” I stared at him a moment. “I will say, though, that I hope your circumstances won’t continue to define your life, Ryder.”
Just then, the trees opened up to rocky terrain. Boulders shot up from the ground like spears.
My stomach dropped. I pointed ahead. “That’s it. I found Kara’s body right up there.”
My pulse began to race as we walked up to the boulders where Kara’s body had been tossed to rot.
Ryder’s brows squeezed in concentration as he looked around.
“She was right in the middle of these rocks,” I pointed. “Here.”
“Someone dragged her out here.”
“Agreed.”
“Question is,” Ryder said thoughtfully, “why here? Why this location?”
“The Strangler drops his victims’ bodies in remote areas.”
“The county owns this land. It’s big for hunting. It has to be someone who knows the location. Hunts, maybe.”
Ryder knelt down and sifted through the snow and dirt. I pulled out my camera and took pictures of the rocks, the trees, even the sky. Noticing Ryder had stilled behind me, I turned and found him staring at something on the ground.
I crossed the rocks and squatted beside him, squinting at what appeared to be a blue scrap of fabric.
“What is that? A part of a T-shirt?”
“It’s a piece of a tarp. That’s how he carried Kara here. He wrapped her in a tarp and dragged her.” He glanced at the jagged rock. “Probably snagged it when he unwrapped her.”
“How did the cops not find this?”
“Could have been buried under boot prints or under a rock. It’s been over a week since she was dumped. No telling what unearthed it.”
“Did your brother say that her autopsy showed that she’d been dragged?”
“The body was too decomposed and ravaged by scavengers. Would’ve been hard to tell. I don’t recall him saying anything about polyethylene on her skin or hair either.”
“Poly-what?”
“Polyethylene. It’s what most tarps are made of. If a body is transported by tarp, occasionally the fibers are found in their hair, or under their fingernails if they tried to scratch their way out.”
I shuddered, staring at the blue scrap of fabric, wondering if Kara had been alive when she was dragged through the woods.