Authors: Landon Parham

First Night of Summer (33 page)

He didn’t press the issue. They had talked about this at least a dozen times, and he knew what his friend meant.

Sarah told him, “You’ll have to find another woman to cook for you.”

“I suppose I will.” He rested a hand on his belly. “But I seriously doubt she’ll hold a candle to what I’m accustomed to.”

“Don’t you dare tell her that.”

Charlie chuckled. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Who knows? Maybe I’ll find some spicy little thing that needs a man to take care of. That wouldn’t be so bad.”
No telling what time can change
.

Twelve months ago, upon laying Caroline to rest, Isaac and Sarah had entertained the possibility of moving. It was going to be difficult living in a house, day after day, night after night, that reminded them so much of her. Starting a new life in a fresh place seemed right. But as the days went by and time slowly glazed the pain, they realized that running away was not the answer, not yet anyway. No matter how far they went or what they changed, the hurt was inescapable.

Josie needed to attend the same school for another year. She had friends there. Taking her away from them—separation from familiarity—didn’t seem fair. She’d been through enough. And honestly, they weren’t sure where to begin their next chapter. The stress of a quick move, fire-selling the house, and trying to find a replacement at the same time was too much.

Now, nine months after Josie’s abduction and twelve months after Caroline’s death, it was the last night Isaac or Sarah would spend on Valley View Lane. As the sign in their yard implied, it was no longer theirs. The new owners would be moving in next week.

Charlie slugged down the final drops of beer and leaned forward in his chair. “I don’t mean to change the subject.” He hesitated. “But have y’all heard anything lately about … him?”

Isaac shook his head. “Other than he’s serving life imprisonment without the possibility of parole?” There was an edge to his inflection.

Sarah didn’t respond. Her jaw locked in a less-than-thrilled expression. It had been a quick, but not altogether satisfying, trial. Most, if not all of the families who had been affected by Ricky, wanted the death penalty. The prosecution lawyers pushed for lethal injection. The amount of ironclad evidence was undisputable. Capital punishment seemed conclusive, at least for one of the multiple counts of abduction, rape, manslaughter, and murder.

Ricky could not mask what he had done or come up with any grounds to bargain. The leather journal that Isaac discovered was just the starting point to a long and precise trail of damning evidence. Numerous pictures and videotapes of his victims had been uncovered at his residence outside of Denver. It linked him to several other disappearances over the past few years. The irrefutable documentation progressed toward execution. Then, on the day of the first hearing, Ricky pulled one final rabbit out of the hat and requested a plea bargain, one they could not resist.

The defense knew anything short of death row for their client would be a resounding victory. In exchange for a guarantee that he would not be tried with the death penalty, Ricky offered to reveal the burial locations of each child. For so long, fear of rotting in prison had kept him out of trouble. In the end though, the will to survive outweighed living like a caged animal.

The prosecution, in conjunction with the families of every victim, agreed to drop the death penalty. They could finally bring their lost children home.

Charlie, uncomfortable with the topic, wanted to get it out of the way. He despised Ricky just as much as anyone did. Caroline, after all, was an honorary niece. He loved her unconditionally.

“Well,” Charlie clarified, “he
was
serving multiple life sentences. But not any longer.”

The shocked, enraged faces of both Isaac and Sarah told him that he’d better rephrase the story.

“I don’t mean that he’s been released or escaped,” he hurriedly corrected. “Richard Doors is dead. Dead and buried.”

Sarah was confused. “What do you mean he’s dead?”

“Murdered.”

“Someone killed him?” Isaac drifted forward in rapt interest, laying his hands flat on the table.

“That’s what I’m told. His convictions were kept private, private from the other inmates, that is. But it appears someone leaked the information.”

Isaac felt delivered. The man who had taken so much from them was no longer on this earth. It seemed cruel to celebrate his death, but there was no denying the comfort it brought.

“How?” Sarah wanted to know.

“Well,” Charlie said and drew out the word, “it’s complicated.” He thought about how best to say it. “They found him in his solitary cell, given a similar treatment as his victims. Someone—most likely a gang of prisoners—raped him. Violently. They used a handcrafted knife to cut him up. A medical examiner confirms that he was alive through everything.”

“How do you think they knew the specifics of what he did?” Isaac asked.

“That’s the million-dollar question.” Charlie shifted in his chair and inhaled the fresh, evening air. “See, child molesters—they call them chomos—have it the roughest in prison. Even the worst, most sadistic convicts have no respect for pedophiles. Your run-of-the-mill drug dealer, armed robber, you name it, has little trouble sharing with other inmates what he is in for. Pedophiles, on the other hand, know how they will be treated if anybody finds out. So, to protect themselves, they isolate and stay tight-lipped on any personal details. It’s a catch-22. Keeping quiet about your crime eventually gets the other cons suspicious, and even in a super maximum prison, guards can be bought.”

“So a guard probably told?”

“It’s possible. Somebody had to unlock his cell.” He shrugged a set of hefty shoulders. “If it weren’t a guard, there’s other ways to find out. Ricky’s trials were major news. In prison, word travels like wildfire. Inside those walls, there are no secrets. Just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “The gig is up.”

A long silence followed. It was a lot to digest.

Isaac leaned back. So much was changing. So much had changed.

Charlie looked as if he were deep in thought, preoccupied.

“Anything else?” Isaac probed.

Charlie averted his eyes toward Sarah and imperceptibly nodded.

“I know you’re trying to protect me,” Sarah said, “but I can handle it.”

Divulging was the right thing to do. He knew it was, but it felt awkward in front of a lady.

“He actually died of asphyxiation, a blockage in his windpipe. The homemade knife,” he went on, “wasn’t just used to cut him up. They severed his uh …” He took a short pause. “Genitals—all of his genitals—and shoved them into his mouth.” He shifted again uncomfortably. “The way it was explained to me, somebody pinched his nose and placed a hand over his mouth. It closed the airway. A body’s natural reaction is to swallow and gasp. When he did, it … or they … got stuck in his throat. After passing out, resuscitation was his only chance. As you can imagine, that didn’t happen.”

* * *

The world can be cruel. No one knew that better than the three of them sitting around the table. It was hard to fathom that such beauty can be filled with such evil. Isaac, in particular, exemplified what a human is capable of. He had been there when the unknown man dove through a window with Caroline. She was left behind, bleeding and dying in his arms. The sorrow nearly ripped their family apart. Then a new crisis arose and united them. Josie was being hunted. Protection for her weighed even more heavily on their hearts than the pain of loss did.

After weeks of taunts coming in the mail, Isaac had to endure the abduction of his only remaining daughter. The groundwork had been laid when Ricky placed a phony call to Tom and Helen’s house, impersonating a doctor. He contrived a story that led Isaac to believe Sarah was in an Albuquerque hospital, very likely on her deathbed.

As the tumultuous timeline unwound, Josie was taken, and Isaac had no choice but to give chase into the wilderness. There, the confrontation came to an apex, and he prevailed. But the victory was not without sacrifice. Even though Ricky had set the death trap at the cabin, Isaac was the one who tripped the wire and added Ashley to the total body count.

That occurrence was the most unsettling for Isaac. Deep down, he knew it was not his fault, but the guilt stayed. When he finally met Ashley’s parents, because of his own feelings, he expected them to blame him. Instead, they’d forgiven him and showed genuine gratitude for capturing the man responsible. They harbored no ill will toward Isaac. With tears of anguish running down her cheeks, Ashley’s mother pulled his hands to her lips and kissed them.

“Thank you,” she said in a sure voice. “Thank you for what you did.” She reached up and lifted his chin. “Don’t ever hang your head because of what happened to my Ashley. Because of you, she can rest in peace. We can
all
rest in peace.”

It was a moment he would never forget. Even a brokenhearted mother had the power to forgive. And that forgiveness set him free.

As he sat there and contemplated, a phrase kept coming to mind. “If everything on earth was perfect, then what is the point of heaven?” The preacher had said the words of comfort at Caroline’s funeral. And just now, Isaac understood the gravity of their meaning. Life is about the good and the bad. Good is easy. Bad is hard. Finding a way to make good from the bad is the secret. The few who discover the ability within themselves—nothing can stand in their way of happiness.

* * *

“It’s a long drive to Taos,” Charlie said and drew Isaac back to the patio. He took another piece of pizza from the box. It was cold, but that had never stopped him before. “Y’all want some help loading in the morning? I think I could pull a few strings.”

“Sure!” Sarah didn’t hesitate. “What’d you have in mind?”

Charlie smirked. “We just got a couple of young guys in. Our motto is to serve and protect. I can’t think of a better way to serve our taxpaying citizens than by helping them load boxes.”

“You can do that?” Isaac asked.

Charlie gave him a hurt look. “You would ever doubt me?”

“I am the chief of police. The title comes with a few useful perks, like making the newbies do exactly as I say.”

“Seriously?” Sarah snickered. “You would really make them?”

“Hey, you’re paying their salaries.” He raised his hand like an American Indian in an old Western and mustered his best baritone voice. “Chief say; brave do. Not other way around.”

Everyone broke out in laughter. Isaac couldn’t wait to tell Tom what Charlie was going to make the new recruits do. Talk about serving the community. It was nice having friends in high places, even if that place was a small town in New Mexico. Besides their beloved Caroline, Charlie was who they would miss the most.

Acknowledgments

T
his is my simple expression of thanks to those who have helped me on my way. Though it may be small, my gratitude is true.

To my parents: You instilled a strong sense of morals and ethics into my character from an early age. I know it wasn’t always easy. Thank you for your unconditional love.

To my in-laws: Your generosity knows no bounds. Even when you had no idea what I was up to, your support was unwavering. Thank you.

To my advance readers: Your honest feedback is exactly what I needed. Thank you for taking time out of your busy lives to help with mine.

And finally, to my wife: I don’t know where to begin. If not for you, this book might be a pile of papers at the bottom of a landfill. You pulled it out of the trash, and patted me on the back. You told me I could do better, and saw it through to the end. Thank you—for everything.

On my journey, I have enjoyed the lessons of countless individuals. Watching and listening has oftentimes taught me what
not
to do as much as what
to
do. Characters, visionaries, friends, and enemies: subtly or severely, you have shaped my life. Thanks to all.

L
andon Parham lives in Dallas, Texas. He operates an e-business with his wife while working to become a full-time novelist. His hobbies include mountain biking and distance running. The majestic, rural expanses of America inspire his visions and will continue to show up as integral parts of his work.

For more information, visit Landon’s website at:
www.landonparham.com

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