Spilled Blood (35 page)

‘It’s not what you think. I just like to see you.’

‘You’re repulsive.’

‘I’m sorry. Really.’

She watched him adjust the blanket around his waist and knew he was becoming aroused. She felt another urge to kick him between his legs. ‘Go put some clothes on.’

‘Yeah. Okay.’

Lenny brushed past her. The touch of his shoulder made her fists clench. He squeezed his fingers under the sash and pushed open the window to his bedroom. He climbed inside, and she looked away, not wanting to see his naked body. She heard him opening drawers, tugging out clothes. When he climbed outside again, he wore a flannel shirt and blue corduroys. He’d combed his wet, greasy hair back over his head.

Before he closed the window, she ordered him, ‘Show me the pictures.’

‘Huh?’

‘The pictures you took. I want to see them.’

He looked as if he wanted to run.

‘Reach in and get them, Lenny. Now.’

Lenny bent over the ledge, and he pushed together the photos on the bed into a messy pile. They were printed on ordinary copier paper, and he’d used a low-pixel camera on his phone. Most of the pictures were blurry. He handed them to her, and the rain began to soak into the colors immediately. The photos ran. The paper became flimsy mush.

She stared at each one, and as she did, she crushed it and threw it on the ground in anger. He’d been everywhere, hiding, watching. It wasn’t just outside. He’d spied on her when she was in her bedroom, from a tree near the river. She saw herself sprawled on her bed, reading. Drinking pop from a can as she did homework on her computer. Some were at night, as she got ready to sleep. Her in a towel, coming out of the shower. Her in her shorty nightgown. One, so blurry his hands must have been shaking, showed her nude in profile.

Olivia slapped his face, leaving a pink palm print on his cheek. Lenny didn’t say anything. He just stood there and took it.

She dropped the photos to the ground and began obliterating them under her shoe, but she stopped as she spotted a moonlit scene, so dark it was almost indistinguishable. Something about
it screamed at her. She grabbed the pictures from the ground again. Frantically, she flipped through at least ten more photos, all apparently taken the same night. Most were too black or out of focus to see, but she found two that were bright enough to identify. In these pictures, she wasn’t alone. Tanya was with her. When she looked closer, she saw someone else, too.

It was Ashlynn.

The photos were taken in the ghost town.

‘You were there!’ she shouted. ‘You saw us!’

Lenny tugged at his flannel shirt, which he’d mis-buttoned in haste. ‘I was on the other side of the railroad tracks.’

‘Did you see everything?’

‘Yeah. I thought you were going to shoot her.’

‘I
didn’t
.’

‘I know. I saw you leave.’

Olivia took him by the shoulders and shouted in his face. ‘You didn’t say anything? You let them arrest me? You let Kirk and those bastards come after me? You
knew
I didn’t kill her. How could you do that to me?’

‘I – I don’t know. I thought, like, if they tried you or something, I could be a hero, you know? I could come forward and save you.’

‘You
bastard
.’

‘I’m really sorry,’ he moaned.

‘Did you see who killed Ashlynn?’

‘No, no, I got the hell out of there. I left right after you did.’

Olivia tried to decide if she believed him. She struggled to rein in her emotions. Everything she’d been through, everything she’d suffered, it all could have been avoided if Lenny had opened his mouth. ‘Was it you?’ she asked. ‘Did you shoot her?’

‘No!’

She folded the wet photographs and shoved them in her pocket. ‘You’re going to talk to the police tomorrow, Lenny. You’re going to tell them what you saw.’

‘Yeah. Sure. Whatever you say.’

‘You’re going to tell them what Kirk did to me, too.’

Lenny shook his head. ‘Oh, fuck, Olivia, you know I can’t do that. He’s my brother!’

Olivia stared closely at Lenny’s face and saw for the first time that he had fresh bruises and dried blood on his skin. ‘Did Kirk do that to you? Is that how your brother treats you?’

‘I deserved it. I’m a loser.’

‘You’re a loser if you don’t help me.’

‘Kirk’s done everything for me. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for him.’

Olivia knew she was on the losing end. Even if Lenny loved her, he loved his brother more. Or feared him more. ‘Where is he?’

‘I don’t know. Why are you here? What’s going on?’

‘I’m trying to stop something bad from happening.’

‘Like what?’

‘Someone getting killed. Where is Kirk, Lenny? His truck is still here. If he didn’t leave, where did he go?’

‘I told you, I don’t know.’

‘You said something woke you up,’ Olivia said. ‘What was it?’

‘I think I dreamed it. It sounded like gunshots.’

‘
Gunshots?
From where?’

‘In the woods near the river.’ Lenny covered his mouth with both fists. ‘Oh, fuck.’

‘Come on, we need to check it out. Do you have a flashlight?’

‘Yeah.’

Lenny slithered back inside the window to his room and emerged with a red Maglite. Olivia grabbed it from him and shot the beam toward the river. The light lit up the streams of rain. She took his dirty hand and dragged him with her toward the woods. Where the trail dove into the trees, she spotted deep boot prints filling with water. She listened, but the spattering rain covered up every other noise. The river shouldered in front of them like a fat snake.

‘What’s down here?’ she asked Lenny.

‘Nothing.’

She heard it in his voice. He was lying. She stopped and turned the light into his face. He put up a hand, covering his eyes. Rain poured through his acne and his cuts.

‘Tell me,’ she said.

‘I don’t know. Kirk says he’s got something big down here. He doesn’t let me come with him.’

Olivia led them through the mud. The river slapped against the bank beside them. She had no sense of how far they’d gone. She didn’t like the idea that Kirk was out here somewhere or that she might run into him alone. She thought about switching off the light, because it was a beacon for anyone else in the woods, but without it, she might as well have closed her eyes.

Snap.

She stopped so quickly that Lenny bumped into her. A twig broke under someone’s foot. She swung the light off the trail, and she stifled a scream as the beam lit up a boy’s face, no more than ten feet away.

There he was, frozen between the flaky trunks of two birch trees.

‘
Johan
,’ she whispered.

His face was shock white. ‘Olivia! What are you doing here?’

He crashed toward her through the weeds. They felt like lovers as they embraced, the way they’d been in the summer. The light of the flashlight danced crazily. Behind them, Lenny was almost invisible in the night.

She read the terror in his eyes. ‘What’s wrong?’

When he didn’t answer, she studied him from head to toe with a flick of the light. His wet sneakers were splashed in red. So were the cuffs of his jeans. ‘Oh my God, Johan, what did you do?’

Lenny saw the blood, too. ‘
Kirk.
’

Johan took her hand. ‘We have to get out of here right now. It’s not safe.’

‘
Kirk!
’ Lenny screamed again. He grabbed the flashlight out of Olivia’s hand and dove off the trail, swallowed up by the darkness. He shouted his brother’s name over and over.

‘Quick,’ Johan said. He had his own flashlight, and he switched it on. ‘We have to hurry.’

Olivia felt a strange calm. ‘I have a car. We can’t take yours, they’re looking for it. Let’s go.’

They hadn’t traveled twenty yards before she heard an anguished cry. It was Lenny, somewhere in the woods behind them. She didn’t stop. She didn’t ask Johan what Lenny had found, and she didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was that they were together.

They kept on running.

The house in St. Croix was empty. Hannah wasn’t home. Neither was Olivia. Chris stood on the porch with his hands on his hips. Water pounded on the metal gutters, and the wind felt like ice on his wet clothes. He was alone in the rain, with nothing but the gauzy orbs of house lights dotting the streets. The town felt abandoned.

He’d spent years in the city, surrounded by people. The empty land of the country had always scared him. Now he realized he’d been a fool. Being with Hannah, being with Olivia, had changed everything. The only thing that mattered was for them to be safe. With him. What scared him more than anything was the idea of losing them again.

He walked through the downpour to the St. Croix church. Inside, he called for Glenn Magnus, but no one answered. The downstairs lights were dark. He heard the vibration of the bells, humming in the wind. He checked the sanctuary, which was lit only with dim wall sconces, and he almost missed the single worshipper on her knees in the pew nearest the altar.

It was Hannah.

He didn’t want to interrupt her, but he wondered what she said to God in her private thoughts. He’d never been a believer himself, but she always told him she prayed for him anyway. For him, for Olivia, for her family, for her town, for the women and children who had no one on their side. He tried to imagine whether she had added herself to the list now, but he didn’t think so. That wasn’t Hannah. She would pray for everyone else, but not for herself.

He stared at the cross hanging over the altar, and the thought came to him unbidden.
Save her.
He didn’t think anyone was listening, and he didn’t imagine he was first on the list for answered prayers. He thought it again anyway.
Save her.

Hannah felt his presence. She saw him at the front of the church, and her face lit up in a smile. When she saw him now, she didn’t think immediately of the past, the pain, the break-up, the murder, the fear. For a millisecond, those things didn’t exist, and she simply reacted with a brief, instinctive moment of joy at the sight of him. He smiled, too.

They met halfway in the aisle.

‘You’re late,’ she said. ‘I was worried.’

‘I’m fine.’

She stared into his eyes as if she were looking for something. ‘You didn’t go back there, did you?’

‘Where?’

‘To Kirk’s.’

‘Of course not.’

Her face softened with relief. ‘I’m glad. I didn’t think you would.’

‘Why do you ask?’

Hannah hesitated. ‘We need to talk.’

‘I know. There’s a lot I need to tell you. I may know what happened to Ashlynn.’

She glanced at the doors to the sanctuary. Her eyes were nervous. ‘Tell me quickly. We don’t have much time.’

‘Why not? What’s going on?’

‘They’ll be coming soon.’

‘Who?’

‘The police.’

‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Is Olivia okay?’

‘She’s fine.’ Hannah pulled him gently into an empty pew. ‘Tell me what you found out.’

Chris struggled to arrange his thoughts. ‘Ashlynn told Tanya
Swenson that she had proof that Florian and Mondamin were involved in what happened in St. Croix. She suspected her father of orchestrating a cover-up. Somehow it involved not only Vernon Clay but Lucia Causey, too.’

‘The special master in the litigation?’ Hannah asked. ‘You think she falsified her report?’

‘Florian has long arms,’ Chris said.

‘Lucia’s dead. She committed suicide last year, but Ashlynn thought she was murdered.’

Hannah shook her head. ‘What did Ashlynn find out?’

‘I’m not sure, but I can think of two people who would want to make sure she didn’t tell anyone.’

‘Who?’

‘One is this man Aquarius. He left a trail that leads to Vernon Clay
and
Lucia Causey. If Ashlynn found out who he was, he might have decided to stop her from getting in the way of his plans.’

‘What plans?’

‘That’s the problem. Nobody knows.’

‘Who’s the other?’ Hannah asked.

‘Kirk Watson.’

She tensed and glanced at the closed doors of the church again. ‘Kirk’s dead.’

‘
What?
’

She didn’t stop to explain. Something made her bolt to her feet. Chris stood up, too, and he heard sirens wailing on the highway. It was just as she’d predicted. The police were coming.

‘What’s going on?’ he said.

Hannah pulled him toward the front of the sanctuary. ‘Don’t say anything to them, Chris. Not yet.’

They exited into the church lobby. Outside the glass doors, three squad cars from the sheriff’s department screeched to a stop on the street. The sirens were loud enough to make him cover his ears, and then they cut off into stark silence. The light bars revolved on the tops of the cars. Silver rain blew sideways as officers in
yellow slickers climbed out of the vehicles and headed for the church steps.

He saw someone else with them. A man in a black trench coat with a fedora. It was Michael Altman.

Chris and Hannah stayed in the lobby as the county attorney came inside from the rain. His face was dark. The police officers with him filed downstairs. Chris didn’t think they were looking for the church party room. They were heading for Johan’s apartment.

‘Mr. and Mrs. Hawk,’ Altman said, dusting water from his hat. ‘You always seem to be around when I have trouble.’

‘What are you doing here?’ Chris asked.

‘I’m looking for Johan Magnus.’

‘Why? What’s going on?’

‘Someone murdered Kirk Watson this evening.’

Hannah stiffened but said nothing. Chris found that his own heart was ice-cold. He didn’t care that Kirk was dead. He only cared about protecting Olivia. ‘How did it happen?’

‘Someone hit him in the head,’ Altman said, ‘and then finished him off with two gunshots. One to the head, one to the genitals. Very personal.’

Hannah covered her mouth. Chris felt queasy, too. Altman watched both of them carefully, studying their reactions.

‘That sounds like someone with a grudge,’ Altman added. ‘Like maybe someone whose daughter had been assaulted recently.’

‘You think I did this?’ Chris asked.