Authors: T.R. Ragan
CHAPTER 22
Jenny disconnected the tube from the needle sticking in Dean Newman’s forearm. Then she wrapped the whole kit and caboodle up and shoved it all inside her handy-dandy bag. Next, she peeled off the tape, along with a few of his arm hairs, and then yanked the needle out. “Sorry,” she said. “Did that hurt?”
Dean didn’t say a word. He looked like a wet noodle. He just sat there in the passenger seat of his SUV, slumped against the door like a rag doll.
“I bet you’re wondering how you got an IV in your arm.”
“No,” she said, answering Dean’s unasked question, “I’m not a nurse. I’m a chemist. But making a homemade IV turned out to be no big deal. There’s a good chance you might get an infection, of course, but no need to worry about that because you’ll be dead soon.”
Once she had all her things packed away, she took hold of Dean’s arm and pulled him toward her, trying to drag him over the console and into the driver’s seat. This wasn’t going to be easy. She opened the driver’s door, turned her back to it, braced her feet against the console, and heaved. Good God, the man was a load, but she was making progress. She had to stop a few times to take a breath and then try again. His shoulders were across, then his trunk—and then, finally, all in a rush, she was flying out of the car and he was coming out of the SUV after her, hanging up at the last second or he would’ve crushed her beneath him.
“Jeez. How much do you weigh, Dean?”
He couldn’t answer her, of course, but she had to admit she was having fun with him. Well, if you could call pulling a two-hundred-pound man from the passenger seat to the driver’s seat fun. It was slow going tucking his legs down where they needed to go and hoisting him up behind the wheel, but she managed.
“I was surprised you showed up tonight,” Jenny told him, panting beside the open door with her hands on her knees. Even in the cold night air, she was sweating like mad. “Despite not being prepared, I put a lot of thought into how I might get rid of your body. I thought about chopping you up and feeding you to the big boar on my parents’ pig farm but decided against it. Besides, I don’t even think the eight-hundred-pound boar would enjoy nibbling on you, Dean. You don’t look anything like the big hot stud who used to throw the ball across the field every Friday night. Those tight pants of yours always made the cheerleaders work extra hard for you.”
She had her breath now. She straightened his clothes and his hair as best she could, then fastened his seatbelt nice and tight and walked around to the other side of the vehicle. She climbed into the SUV’s passenger seat and pulled the bottle of whiskey she’d brought from beneath the seat.
She wore rubber gloves and a hairnet. She was on her game.
After opening the bottle of booze, she slid close enough to reach over and put it to his lips.
One of his fingers twitched.
The alcohol drizzled from his mouth and down his chin. She put his hand around the bottle, making sure his prints were there in case they found him sooner rather than later.
“I don’t have much time, Dean. The muscle relaxant I gave you only works for so long. In case you didn’t know what was going on, you’re paralyzed. If you could speak, I wonder what you would say right now. Maybe one more apology?”
Jenny laughed. “Nah, just kidding. I don’t care one iota about what you’re thinking. I just hope you’re feeling even a tiny bit of what I was feeling when you held me down, naked and cold out on the muddy field, while your friends had their way with me. I hope now you might
really
understand what you did to me.”
She took a breath, even found herself enjoying the view of the murky canal—Dean’s watery grave. “How does it feel to have zero control, Dean? It’s not fun, is it? In case you were wondering, it never took much to trigger memories of that day. Every time I see a football game, I have flashbacks. Certain smells bring me right back to the night that you and your friends raped me. I wish your pals were here now so I could watch them do to you what they did to me after you were finished. Two guys at once. A dirty shirt stuffed so far into my mouth I thought for sure I would suffocate. Your big, strong hands are what kept me from being able to scratch their eyes out. You do realize that, right? Your fingers were clamped so tightly around my wrists, I had bruises for a month. Did you know that I had nothing to look at but
you
while your friends poked and prodded? I bet you didn’t realize that your breathing quickened in excitement as the minutes ticked by. Did you know that not one time during that incident did you have the nerve to look me in the eye?”
Another finger twitched.
“What were you thinking would happen tonight, Dean? Did you really think you could ruin my life and then just expect me to forgive you? Are you kidding me? You just decided one day that it was time to come clean? You thought you would just travel through the city, knocking on every one of your victims’ doors and say you’re sorry? I don’t know about everyone else you messed with, but I, personally, don’t care if you’ve changed or even if you spent the last ten years drinking yourself into oblivion. You did what you did because you’re heartless and cruel and now you’re finally going to pay for your actions.”
Jenny sucked in a breath as she worked to get her anger in check. “I better get the show on the road. I don’t want you waking up too soon. Once you drive your car into the water, it should only take a few minutes for you to drown.”
He’d fallen over against the driver’s door. She did her best to haul him upright and clamp his fingers around the steering wheel. She made sure every window was open, too. “Everyone’s going to think you started drinking again. You couldn’t live with yourself, so you drove into the canal.”
Jenny sat back so she could survey her work. Everything was in place. She leaned over and turned the engine on. Then she examined the passenger window, hoping she would have enough time to jump out before they hit the water. She really didn’t feel like getting wet.
After tossing her bag out the window and making sure there was nothing else left in the car that might incriminate her, she used both hands to pick up his right leg and plunk his foot hard on the gas pedal. The SUV’s engine roared.
“Easy, now,” she said, pulling on his leg so he wasn’t flooring it. This might be trickier than she’d thought. If she just had him drift down into the water, the vehicle might stop before he went under. She pushed down on his leg again, then slipped the SUV into gear.
The surge of power caught her off guard. Jenny fell back against the leather seat and was sent soaring into the frigid water right along with Dean Newman.
CHAPTER 23
“I think I found Pam Middleton’s long-lost daughter,” Hayley told Kitally. “If this is the right woman, the girl’s name is now Christina Bradley.”
Kitally headed across the room and hovered over her. “How the heck did you find her? I’ve called every child-care service provider in Sacramento. Most of them wouldn’t give out any information unless I was a parent or an attorney. The few people who didn’t care about rules and regulations had no one in their records by the name of Debra Blatt.”
“I decided to use the hospital where she was born and her birth date instead of her name,” Hayley said. “Then I followed a paper trail of foster homes and sent out a dozen emails. I just received a response from a woman who said all the information I gave her matched a girl she roomed with named Debra Blatt. She said that when Debra turned eighteen, she had her name legally changed to Christina Bradley.”
“Lizzy is going to be happy about this. You might have just saved a young girl’s life.”
“Don’t get too high and don’t get too low,” Hayley said. “Even if we find Christina Bradley, we don’t know if she’ll be a match.”
Hayley continued to clack away at the keyboard. A Facebook page for Christina Bradley popped up on her screen.
“Looks like she put herself through college,” Kitally said.
Hayley nodded. “Look at all the congratulations. She’s engaged to be married.”
“Considering how rough her life started out, she looks like she’s gotten it together.”
Hayley shrugged. “Everybody’s life looks shiny and happy on Facebook.” She scrolled down. “She runs a day care center in Citrus Heights.”
“I have to run another surveillance on Mr. Chalkor,” Kitally said. “Do you want me to stop by the day care on my way? See if she’s there?”
“No, I’ve got this. You take care of Chalkor. I’ll talk to Christina.”
Hayley pulled her Chevy into the parking lot of a strip mall off Birdcage and quickly found an empty spot. The battered beast of a car sputtered and jerked before the engine fell silent. The day care center was dark blue with white shutters. Long blades of bright-green grass had been painted all around the base at the front of the building, making it appear as if grass were growing right out of the pavement.
The moment Hayley walked inside she was assaulted by noise.
A half wall, three feet high and painted the colors of the rainbow, separated the front desk from a thousand-square-foot room filled with small tables and chairs, games, and
lots
of kids. Hayley had never been in a day care center before. It wasn’t anything like Child Services. These kids were actually having fun.
A woman in her early twenties stood near the front desk. She was on the phone and held up a finger to let Hayley know she’d be a minute.
A high-pierced scream caused every nerve inside Hayley’s body to tense. Pain or joy? Who the hell knew?
The girl finished her phone conversation and said, “How can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Christina Bradley.”
“She’s around here somewhere. Let me find her for you.”
By the time the young woman helped a little girl with her drawing and then stopped two boys in the middle of a tug-of-war over a toy car, two other ladies had entered the room through a back door. The three women exchanged a few words, and then one of them looked over the sea of little heads and caught Hayley’s gaze. She was about five-four, wore a rainbow T-shirt and jeans, and had her light-colored hair pulled back in a ponytail. Even before she headed Hayley’s way, Hayley knew she’d found Christina Bradley. She looked just like Pam Middleton.
Christina introduced herself, then said, “If you’re looking for a job, we don’t have any openings right now.”
“That’s not why I’m here,” Hayley said. “Is there somewhere, a room maybe, where we could talk privately?”
“I’m unusually busy right now. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”
“It’s about your biological mom, Pam Middleton. She’s looking for you.”
Christina paled.
“Are you all right?”
Christina’s hand fell to her chest. “You caught me off guard, but I’ll be fine. Why don’t we go to my office, after all?”
Hayley followed her through a door and into a small windowless office. “Have a seat,” Christina said.
Hayley did exactly that.
“Pam Middleton,” Christina said. “Is that her name?”
Hayley nodded.
“What’s she like?”
“I’ve only met her once, for less than ten minutes. She looks a lot like you. She talks fast, and she comes across as a little uptight.”
Christina appeared to be holding back a smile. “Do you work for the adoption agency?”
“No. I’m with Lizzy Gardner Investigations in Sacramento.”
“How did you find me?”
“Yours was a closed adoption, which made things more difficult. I talked to your father, Dan Blatt, and your grandmother—”
“He’s not my father. I’d prefer it if we didn’t talk about those people.”
“I understand.”
Christina folded her arms in front of her. “So how long has this Pam Middleton been looking for me?”
“As far as I know, at least a couple of weeks.”
Christina audibly exhaled. “Do you know why?”
“Yes.”
“That bad, huh?”
Hayley didn’t know what to say to that, so she kept her thoughts to herself.
“Go ahead and tell me. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
“The whole story or just the bottom line?” Hayley asked.
“Sum it up nice and neat for me, if you can.”
Hayley obliged. “Your mother had you when she was sixteen. She and her boyfriend decided they weren’t ready to raise a child, so they gave you up for adoption. Years later, they married and had another child. A daughter. She’s sick and she needs a bone marrow transplant. If you’re a match, you could be her only hope.”
Christina came to her feet, seemed to struggle to take her next breath. “Wow, you sure know how to tell it like it is, don’t you?”
Hayley remained silent.
After a long moment, Christina said, “So. Based on what you just told me, Pam Middleton would never have sought me out if it wasn’t for her sick daughter.”
“I wouldn’t want to speculate.”
Christina took a deep breath and then blew it out and began to pace the room. “Both my parents are together and they never looked for me.” She looked at Hayley, her hands rolled into tight fists at her sides. It was easy to see that she was fighting all sorts of crazy emotions. “How old is she . . . the sick girl?”
“Sixteen.”
“Have you met her?”
“No.”
She nodded and kept nodding as she paced. “God, I just feel like screaming. This is so out of the blue.”
The door opened, and the young woman Hayley had talked to when she’d first entered the building asked Christina if everything was all right.
“I’m fine, thanks, but I’m going to need a few more minutes. Is everything OK out there?”
“We’re fine. Take your time.”
After she left, Christina returned to her seat. Another minute passed before she propped both elbows on her desk and let her head fall into her open palms. When she looked up again, she apologized and said, “I don’t know if I can do it.”
Hayley put a business card on Christina’s desk and slid it toward her. “Why don’t you take some time to think about it?”
“Is the girl in the hospital?”
“Yes. Sutter General Hospital, on the fourth floor. Your sister’s name is Kirsten Middleton.”
“I don’t have a sister.”
Hayley nodded.
“How much time does she have?”
“Not much.”
Christina stiffened. “I’m serious. I really don’t think I can help her.”
“I understand,” Hayley said again.
“Do you really?”
Hayley took a moment to think about that. “No, I guess you’re right. I don’t.”
“What would
you
do?”
Hayley hated these sorts of questions. Hypothetical bullshit, but she hadn’t come all this way for nothing. “Not everyone gets a chance to be a hero,” Hayley told her. “I’d like to think I would rise to the occasion and do whatever needed to be done, but who the hell knows? Maybe telling Pam Middleton to fuck off would feel a lot better than saving someone you’ve never met.”
Silence.
“Ultimately,” Hayley added, “nobody can make this decision for you.”
“Is it dangerous . . . you know . . . donating bone marrow or whatever it is she would need?”
“From what I’ve read about bone marrow donation, it’s mostly a time commitment. Every surgical procedure has risks.”
“I’m getting married in four weeks.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“Nobody is going to judge you if you don’t do this,” Hayley said.
“No? Cancel my wedding to save a life or let the girl die and find a way to think happy thoughts on my honeymoon?”
“You might not be a match,” Hayley told her, “and then you won’t have to make the decision at all.”
“But what if I am?”
Hayley said nothing, let a solid minute of silence settle between them before coming to her feet. “I think you should do what’s right for you and nobody else.” She gestured toward the card she’d left on the desk. “If you need to vent or you want someone to go to the hospital with you or to set up a meeting with Pam Middleton, call me anytime.”