Chapter 74
As she smoked, hands trembling, Anna stared at the pile of American Spirit butts up against the wall of the church and wondered if she was the only one who could see them.
She knew them for what they were now. Cigarettes she’d smoked so many times before, bleeding through from other Annas.
Flashes from other timelines she’d lived through.
A temporary window in the barriers between them. They probably weren’t here—now—at all.
I can’t do it again. That’s what Grandma had said. This was it. Anna’s last shot. She called Todd, keeping her eye on the parking lot in case Pastor Keene showed up.
“Anna. Hey.” He sounded surprised rather than irritated, which she’d take as a win. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, but I need you to listen.
Hear me out.” Her stomach was in her throat.
She didn’t need him to arrest the pastor but just to talk to him.
Scare him enough to keep her safe. “It’s about Pastor Keene.
He has the Sailor’s Choice soap in the church restrooms. That’s the soap the girls were washed in. ”
“Sailor’s Choice?” Todd paused. “That stuff is everywhere these days, Anna. The brand took off a year or so ago. You must have seen the TV ads.”
“It’s more than that. Listen.” She talked fast, telling him about Bonnie’s lover, the pregnancy, the meetings at the dentist’s, how the pastor was close to both girls, which was surely more than most people in town, and definitely more than Michael Cairns, had been.
“What if he kills another girl tonight? You need to tell the sheriff. Go talk to the pastor. Scare him enough that he doesn’t murder anyone else. ” So he doesn’t murder me.
“No one’s getting killed tonight, and definitely not by Pastor Keene.” Todd was infuriatingly calm and reasonable.
“How can you be so sure?” she snapped back.
“Because he’s gone to Omaha for the weekend to surprise the Millers with dinner before checking in on some charities he works with tomorrow. Honestly, Anna, he’s one of the good guys.”
“How do you know he’s there? Maybe he’s using that as an alibi. You have to tell the sheriff. Take him in. For tonight at least.” She was getting louder, but she couldn’t help herself. It was three o’clock. Her time was running out.
“It’s the sheriff and his wife’s anniversary, and I’m not interrupting that.
You need to stop obsessing about this. Pete’ll be in his car down by The Shamrock until closing, and I’m patrolling the outlying towns, but there is nothing to worry yourself about.
Michael Cairns is dead, and he killed those girls.
I don’t know how else to make you believe that. ”
His voice was breaking up, the line suddenly getting bad. “You’re cutting out,” she said.
“Sorry, getting in the car. Need to check on some damage at a store in Pearsville.”
“Is that the crazy girl?”
The line might have been glitching, but she recognized Pete’s, the other deputy’s, voice in the background. What a prick. She hung up, livid, knowing Todd would think the bad line ended the call.
Why had she thought that a man could help her?
Todd was no different from all the others.
He was probably laughing at her with Pete in their cruiser right now.
Even if he didn’t want to laugh at her, he would.
That’s what men did. Listened to the louder ones.
They liked to be led. Did their harm in packs.
She stared at his number in her contacts, white rage consuming her, and then she pressed hard on the delete button.
She hated him. Hated him with all her heart.
She threw her cigarette butt down, the pile of butts she’d seen only moments ago now vanished, and pocketed her phone.
She was on her own. No one was going to help her. And tonight was fast approaching.