House of Fire (Unraveled Series) (17 page)

“Stop rubbing, Dad,”
Delaney knocked Michael’s hand, their eyes unmoving from each other. “You’re
making me nervous.”

“What the hell are
you guys talking about?” Mark interrupted. “What picture? And how does this
connect with my boss?”

“I have no idea, if
it makes you feel any better.” James leaned across the counter.

“Dad, what happened
when I was three? Why did Mom take me to Milwaukee? Why did we leave you
behind?” Delaney’s voice softened, knowing that whatever it was they were hiding
needed to be told. “Who was the boy in the picture?”

“I can’t. Not without
your Mom.” Michael looked down, the distress evident in his body. She was
pressing, but wasn’t going to get anywhere. He wouldn’t break; Michael Jones
never broke.

“Then let’s find
Mom.” Delaney leaned down, her hands shaking as she laced her shoes.

“She’ll walk through
that door any second. Let’s just wait for her to come back,” Mark said.

“I’m not waiting,”
Delaney insisted. “Anyway, she should be back by now.”

“Was she feeling okay
when she left? Was she weak or anything?” James asked.

“She was physically
fine. Emotionally, that’s another story.” Michael got up from the counter and
slipped on his shoes from the rug in the foyer.

“I don’t know why
everyone is in such a panic. You know Mom is fine,” Mark said as he disappeared
down the hall.

“What the hell is
going on?” James pulled Delaney’s arm back to face him, just as Michael and
Mark were out of earshot. Delaney looked at his face, his eyebrows creased in
apprehension.

“Trust me,” Delaney
whispered.

“I do, I always do.
Is it about the calls you got last night?” James asked.

“Part of it, yes. My
mom’s in trouble, I know she is.” Delaney watched as her father bent down to
lace his shoes. He was agile for a man in his sixties, but the last couple of
years had been hard on him. He was slowing down and, although Ann was in the
best shape she had been in since her diagnosis, her body had taken a beating.
She wouldn’t be a match for anyone, not that she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“Let’s find her
then,” James said as he raised his hands to catch the shoes Mark threw at him.

“Which way did she
go?” Delaney asked as all four piled out the front door. Delaney squinted as
the summer sun shone in her face, the predicted eighty-five degree day was well
on its way. Her eyes rested on James’s SUV parked in front of Mark’s house. The
other three looked down the streets, expecting Ann to be just yards away. The
panicked feeling in Delaney’s gut told her that she didn’t need to look down
the streets; Ann wouldn’t be there.

“Good morning!” a
woman’s voice called from the lawn next to them.
Regina
. Two
blonde-haired boys ran circles around her, pretending to shoot each other with
their hands.

“Gotcha! You’re
dead,” one boy shouted as the other fell to the grass, writhing and kicking his
legs.

“Good morning,”
Delaney yelled back with a wave before she stopped. If anyone had seen her, it
would be hawking Regina. “Hey, Regina, did you see my mom by chance? She left
around eight for a walk and isn’t back yet. Brown hair, middle aged.”

“I sure did. I was in
the front room with Rory,” Regina offered as she walked closer, ignoring her
two boys in the grass. A bald baby was attached to her hip, a bright pink
headband suctioned to her forehead.
Mackenzie. Maybe McKinley
. Delaney
wasn’t sure; it was too hard to keep track of them all.

“Do you know which
way she went?”

“She took a left out
of the house.” Regina pointed toward the end of the subdivision. “Beautiful
woman. Are you her husband?” Regina offered her hand to Michael who
reciprocated and smiled. “I’m Regina. Mark and Delaney are wonderful
neighbors.”

“It’s nice to meet
you, Regina. I’m Michael Jones. Father to these two troublemakers.” Michael
pointed at Mark and Delaney.

Delaney sighed inwardly,
politeness evading every ounce in her body. “I’m sorry, Regina, we’re in a
little bit of a rush. We’re looking for her.”

“Is everything okay?”
Regina pressed as she shifted the baby girl who was reaching out her hands.
Delaney forced a quick smile to the baby before turning back to the waiting
SUV.

“Of course,” Delaney
reassured. The last thing she needed was Regina and the entire suburbia nation
with their minivans searching for her missing mother.

“If she happens to
come back, will you tell her to give one of us a call?” Mark waved his phone as
he made his way to the street. Regina had dutifully gathered everyone’s numbers
the day they moved in - for the subdivision spreadsheet, of course, with all
their names and contact information, including the names of any kids, ages, and
if the kids babysat. Cookies were on the doorstep the next day.

James held the key
fob in his hand, the SUV responding with a chirp. Mark and James climbed into
the front while Michael and Delaney slid into the back. All four windows rolled
down simultaneously with the start of the engine.

“I know she wouldn’t
go far since she didn’t know the area. I think we should follow your neighbor’s
lead,” Michael suggested as he looked out the window. James took off down the
street with all four faces glued out their windows.

“The subdivision has
four parallel streets with two perpendicular ends. Let’s start down here and
weave through them all.” Mark pointed to the nearest stop sign, indicating that
James take the next right.

Variations of browns
and whites with three-stall garages, lush green lawns and repeating shapes of
boxwoods filled both sides of the street. The sidewalk was occasionally spotted
with toddlers and kids already out for a morning play session. Delaney surveyed
the same women with their spandex and schnauzer walk past, but no Ann Jones.

“One more street
left,” Michael said wearily.

Delaney felt the
breeze blow against her face as James accelerated. They weren’t going to find
Ann here. She began to feel the panic rise in her chest.
Holston wouldn’t
hurt her
. Her eyes shifted to her father, his hands resting on his knees as
he leaned forward in the seatbelt. His head was half-perched out the window.
She had trusted her father; he was the only man that had always kept to his
promises. However, he had kept a secret for so long.

“We’ll find her,”
James reassured as he turned the final corner.

“Why don’t we stop
off at the house? She may have circled back by now,” Mark offered as they drove
the last street. Delaney’s eyes caught the green street sign as they turned
back toward Mark’s house.
Tranquil Way.
Nothing was tranquil about their
current situation.

Her body tightened
when she saw Regina still standing in her yard, the baby now attached to the
front of her body in a carrier. The baby was like another appendage, a fifth
arm.
Exhausting.
The two boys came tearing from the backyard, still
yelling and screaming. James pulled up in front of her house.

“Did you see her?”
Mark yelled across James. Regina walked toward them, shaking her head no.

“I didn’t,” Regina
said as she ran her fingers across her baby’s cheek. The headband baby gurgled
and kicked her legs. Delaney wanted to tear the pink headband off her head,
freeing the little girl of the restraint. Delaney rubbed her forehead instead,
leaning back into the seat.

“Do you think I
should call the police?” Regina asked in a whisper, in case the baby might
possibly understand the gravity of the situation.

“I think we should
try one more place,” Delaney interjected, trying to deter any involvement with
Regina and the police. Delaney leaned forward and grabbed James’s headrest.
“The trails where I ran yesterday. Just up the road.”

“Maybe she’s in
trouble. Sprained an ankle?” Regina offered. “Greg’s mom rolled her ankle in a
pothole a few years back. Took her two hours to hobble home. Can you believe no
one stopped to help her? I guess maybe because they live in the sticks. Not too
many cars are around where they live, but a ton of people use those walking
trails just down the road. I’m sure someone found her.”

“Thanks Regina,” Mark
cut her off and waved his hand as Delaney whispered in James’s ear to drive.

“She’s just trying to
be helpful,” Michael defended as he waved to Regina and yelled thanks out the
window. “It wouldn’t kill anybody to have a little kindness and patience around
here.”

James accelerated,
following Delaney’s lead out of the subdivision and onto the strip of
unpopulated land. Delaney watched the commercial real estate sign pass as they
neared the beginning of the trail, the arrowed sign pointing to the right.

“It’s up ahead by
that sign. I’ll hop out,” Delaney said as James veered to the right and braked
to a stop.

“You’re good.” James
glanced in the rearview mirror to see an empty road behind him. Delaney slid
out the door and jogged around the back of the SUV. As she took the first step
onto the trail, she heard another door slam shut. She turned to see Mark coming
toward her in his flip flops.

“I’m coming with,”
Mark said as he fell in line with her light jog. Delaney cringed as she felt
the onslaught of twenty questions about to start. She would have to be slow and
careful about what she said to him.

“So what the hell is
going on?” The first question came within five seconds of being out of earshot
of their father.

“I don’t know,”
Delaney said as they went under the shade of the trees’ canopies. The familiar
sound of the woods was interrupted with the slapping of Mark’s flip flops.
“God, that’s annoying.”

“Don’t dodge the
question.”

“I don’t know what’s
going on, but I think Mom might be in trouble.”

“What picture are you
talking about?” Mark asked, avoiding the fact that Delaney believed Ann Jones
was in trouble. He didn’t want to believe it or want to hear it; he wanted the
facts. Mark wanted to sort it out for himself. His breath became heavy beside
her.

“You should exercise
more,” Delaney said as she nodded at a couple that jogged past. “Maybe we
should be asking these people if they’ve seen her.”

“The next person. The
picture, Delaney,” Mark pressed again. Delaney sighed as she looked into the
woods on her right for any sign of their mother or an indication of a struggle.

“You know the ring
that I wear around my neck? Mom’s wedding ring? She gave it to me in an old
wooden box of hers with this red lining. Yesterday, when I went to put it on, I
accidentally caught the edge of the lining with my finger and, it just so
happens, there’s a picture behind the lining. It’s a little boy in a
wheelbarrow dated 1984,” Delaney started.

“Okay, so it’s a
picture of a boy. So what?”

“Well, the
wheelbarrow was familiar to me. I’ve seen the wheelbarrow. A long time ago,
maybe on the farm when I was a little girl. There was a two-story farmhouse in
the background. I couldn’t really place it. Anyway, I asked Mom about it before
we went to the gala last night.”

“And?” Mark’s breath
was getting even heavier. The sweat began to pour down his forehead.

“She was upset by it.
She started twisting her earrings and a tear rolled down her cheek.
A tear.
Have
you ever seen Mom cry?”

“No.”

“Technically, it was
the second time I’ve seen her cry. Aunt Emma said that Mom cried the night that
we showed up on their steps from Amberg. I was three. Clearly, I don’t remember
a lot from that night, so this was my first time I remember seeing Mom cry,”
she said as she watched the untouched trees go by. No sign of Ann. “Mom cried
last night in the bathroom at Parker Tower.”

“From what?”

“After she saw
Holston Parker.” Delaney felt the words hang in the air. The sound of the
flopping stopped; Mark stood frozen in the middle of the path.

“How does she know
Holston Parker?” Mark asked, his voice echoing through the trees.

“Shh,” Delaney
whispered as she stopped and walked back to him. “I don’t exactly know for
sure, but I know Mom was a waitress back at a restaurant in Amberg. That’s
where she met a man named George Boyd, aka Holston Parker.”

“Delaney, I’m just
not following you. This isn’t making any sense,” Mark started. He locked his
fingers together and put his hands behind his head.

“I know it doesn’t. I
told you that,” Delaney said.

“So why do you think
Mom is in danger now?”

“Because your boss is
not who you think he is.” Delaney’s face began to flush, the anger welling deep
inside her. She wanted to spill it all - Theron, Evie, the hatchet - but she
couldn’t, Mark wouldn’t understand.

“What’s that supposed
to mean?” Mark shot her an incredulous look.

“He’s not just the
wealthy philanthropist, as you know him,” she started.
Your boss is a killer
didn’t sound right. She had to work on that phrase. “There’s more to him.
Layers.”

“Shit, Delaney, be
straight with me,” he yelled. A pack of birds fluttered in the trees above
them.

“Damn you, Mark. Be
quiet,” Delaney scolded through a whisper. She turned to look at the path
behind her. “Arguing isn’t going to get us anywhere. Let’s keep going.”

“Fine, but you better
tell me something. How do you even know Holston?” Mark began walking again, the
flip-flops sounding in Delaney’s ears.

“I’ve seen him a few
times with President Givens,” Delaney offered. It wasn’t entirely a lie; she
had seen them together. She looked at the trees thinning to her left, the
intricate backyards of the luxurious homes coming into sight. She tried to
replay the houses in her mind; Holston’s was not too far ahead.

“Okay, nothing too earth
shattering there.” Mark’s voice was strained. He was annoyed, completely
agitated with Delaney’s careful and empty responses. He was on the verge of
reaching down her throat to pull out the words.

“Keep looking,”
Delaney pressed as the black wrought iron fence came into view. Her eyes
focused on the fence, the boulders of the waterfall trickling down.

“Watch out, Delaney.”
Mark yanked her arm toward him. Delaney stumbled and then looked up to see two
male joggers just a few feet in front of her. She moved behind Mark, following
his steps.

“Excuse us,” Mark
called to the runners. The two men paused, running in place while they eyed up
Mark behind their black visors.

Delaney slid past
Mark on the right, walking ahead as she heard Mark explain who they were
looking for. Her eyes were glued to Holston’s backyard, the patio where she had
seen Cherry. She squinted, seeing a slight movement near the patio door. A
person with a bright green shirt, smaller than a man and definitely shorter
than Holston Parker, hesitated in front of the door. The person slipped inside
the door, closing it shut before she could get close enough to decipher the
outline, but she would have bet her life on it that she had seen a wave of
brown hair.

“They didn’t see
her,” Mark sighed as he ran up beside her. He followed her eyes to the lavish
backyard. “That looks like Holston’s backyard.”

“It is,” Delaney
whispered as she continued to walk forward, the view becoming clearer.

“How do you know
that?” Mark grabbed at her elbow again, but she wriggled free as she moved
forward. The waterfall splashed directly in front of her, fifty yards away.

“Shh,” Delaney
whispered as she watched the yard, unmoving except for the running water. Mark
finally stood silent beside her until he pointed to the patio door. A flash of
bright green appeared in front of the door before it disappeared again. This
time it was followed by a taller outline in a white shirt.

“Did you see that?”
Delaney whispered, now moving into the trees. The brush cracked beneath her
feet.

“Of course I did,”
Mark whispered back as he followed her, carefully stepping through the poking
twigs and twisting leaves.

“Mark...” Delaney
leaned against the tree, steadying herself for his answer.

“Yeah, she was
wearing it,” Mark answered without Delaney having to finish the question. They
had both recognized the bright green shirt as their mother’s favorite t-shirt.
She had worn it for a cancer walk last spring. “Cancer Sucks” splashed across
the front.

“We’ve got to do
something,” Delaney urged as she pushed forward, ready to spring from the trees
and scale the fence.

“It didn’t look like
she was in danger or anything. Maybe it’s just unfinished business,” Mark
offered as he pulled the back of Delaney’s shirt. “They’re adults, Delaney.
Just let it be.”

“We can’t,” Delaney
pleaded, turning to face Mark. The wrenching in her body begged her to unfold
the details of Holston’s murderous pursuits. His connection with a hit man, the
body count he had amassed. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Mark
laughed. “Apparently, we know two different people then. I find it hard to
believe that you know Holston Parker better than I do. This is crazy.” Mark
stomped out of the trees and stood back on the trail, waiting for Delaney to follow
him, yet she stood still, crouched, ready to forge through the trees and onto
the lawn to reclaim their mother. Delaney wouldn’t let Holston Parker drag her
mother into the belly of hell.

“I know it’s fucking
crazy, Mark, but you have to believe me,” Delaney begged as she turned to see
Mark standing impatiently in the path, his hand resting on his hip.

“Tell me something
then. Tell me something that makes him so dangerous,” Mark urged.

“How about hiring a
hit man to kill twenty-two people? How does that sound?” The words dripped from
her mouth as her body shook. She looked down either side of the path, hoping
that no one had heard what she’d said. It sounded crazy. He wouldn’t believe
her.

“What the hell is
wrong with you? You’ve been watching too much CSI or something. Jesus,
Delaney,” Mark yelled as he walked toward her. “I know that we went through a
lot with almost losing Mom. A new job. Moving to Appleton. But you just told me
that Holston Parker is a serial killer.”

“Yes.” Delaney felt
sweat drip down her back. She wanted to strangle Mark, but the claim had been
so ridiculous to even her that she had a hard time believing it. But she had
witnessed his path of destruction and power. She needed something more personal
for Mark to relate to.
To make him believe.

“This is insane. I’m
headed back. Mom will be fine with Holston. It’s Dad I’m worried about,” Mark
said as he turned his body to head back the way they came.

“How do you think Mom
got in to see Dr. Jackson?” Delaney sputtered, desperate to make him stay.

“What do you mean?”
Mark stopped, running his hand through his hair.

“Dr. Jackson is a
goddamn, modern-day miracle worker. A renowned surgeon. Nationally recognized
with a two month waiting list,” Delaney yelled, her voice shaking. “And Mom got
in within a week.”

“So?”

“ONE WEEK, MARK! And
now the cancer is gone. That doesn’t happen to regular people like Mom. Or you
and I.” Delaney’s voice cracked. Mark’s eyes shot up and down the path. Delaney
lowered her voice, “It was Holston Parker. He fucking told me that he did Mom a
favor and made a few calls.”

“That was back in the
winter, Delaney. How did you meet him?” Mark asked again, moving to the edge of
the path. His voice finally sounded the slightest bit concerned. “What are you
not telling me? This is Mom here. If there is shit I need to know, you need to
tell me.”

“You wouldn’t believe
me if I told you,” Delaney said as she turned back to the house. “Can you just
trust me for one second? We have to do something.”

“Well, I’m not going
to confront my boss about being a serial killer. Let’s start there. But I will
call him. I’ll make something up about needing some paperwork.” Mark slipped
his hand into his shorts and made a few taps on his phone before bringing it to
his ear. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand as he listened to the
other end, his eyes fixed on Delaney. She began to step through the branches,
the cracking echoing through the air before Mark waved his hand for her to
stop. He pulled the phone away from his ear and slid it back into his pocket.

“He didn’t answer,
big surprise,” Delaney said as she turned back to the house. This was it; she
was all in. She had to do something if Mark wasn’t going to. She crashed
through the trees and emerged on the edge of Holston Parker’s lawn.

“DELANEY!” Mark
yelled behind her as she ran alongside the black fence. He yelled again, his
voice closer this time as she sprinted to the corner and began running up the
hill to the side of his house. She heard the snapping of Mark’s flip flops chasing
behind her.

As she neared the
front of the house, she heard the engine of a car humming quietly. She
flattened herself against the hill, her hands pressed against the grass. Mark
flung himself beside her, panting. With any luck, Holston Parker wouldn’t see
them on the hill.

“Damn, Delaney. I’m
going to kill you,” Mark heaved as he poked his head up to see the car.

“When I’m wrong, I’ll
hand you the knife,” she said as she craned her neck up to see the gray sedan
pull down the driveway. The man wearing the white shirt came into view. Holston
was behind the wheel. Delaney’s eyes searched to the passenger seat where the
bright green shirt sat perched alongside him.
Ann Jones
.

“It’s Mom,” Mark
said.

“No shit, we have to
get her,” Delaney shot up and began sprinting across the grass. She didn’t care
what Mark thought or what Holston would do to her. She needed to get Ann Jones
out of that car.

“DELANEY!” Mark’s
voice yelled again, but this time, he stayed glued to the grass. The gray sedan
accelerated, whipping back into a turn. Holston had seen Delaney, and he wasn’t
going to stop.

“MOM!” Delaney yelled
as she watched her mother’s eyes lock onto her own. Ann pressed her hand
against the window, her eyes wide with panic as the car sped down the street.

Delaney ran after the
car into the street, her arms pumping as her feet hit the pavement. The
taillights pulled further and further ahead. She pumped harder, her legs
exploding beneath her until the realization finally hit her. She was never
going to catch them. She slowed her legs to a stop as she watched the
taillights and Ann Jones disappear.

22

June 17 - 9:04 a.m

Evie stood at the
reference desk of the Appleton Public Library, her foot tapping against the
floor as she eyed the woman on the phone behind the counter. The middle-aged
librarian with her gold-rimmed glasses and “Support APL” collared shirt held up
her index finger with a stern face. She was just like the other reference
librarians on staff; all mousy, aging women with half-gray buns or short curls.
But Evie didn’t recognize Estelle, as her name tag read.
All the better
,
Evie thought, in case the blonde wig hadn’t been enough. The oldest reference
librarian, Lorna, must have died and been replaced with a slightly younger
version. Evie had always had a soft spot for the zealous, stern Lorna.