The line went dead. Bess swiped one clammy hand against her slacks and took a few deep breaths to calm herself. The call hadn’t made her feel especially comforted. If there was a killer out there, he might reasonably come after the woman poking around, trying to get the case reopened and the police back on the hunt.
“You look like you saw a ghost,” Wayne said, coming toward her.
“I don’t feel very good, that’s all.”
“Who were you talking to?”
“The police.”
“Hm. Yeah, I’d say that’s enough to make a person feel under the weather.” He chuckled a little, but his eyes remained serious, searching her face. “What’s happening, Bess? Why do you need the police? You don’t seem yourself lately.”
“Lately?” Bess let out a shrill sort of laugh that made Wayne jump. “Lately, you say? Wayne, I’ve not been myself for a long time. Shit. I don’t even know what ‘myself’ feels like at this point. God damn. Things weren’t right even before I started hearing things.”
“Hearing things?”
“What would you do? If you thought the guy in jail was innocent, but the cops didn’t care. What would you do? Because I don’t have a clue.”
“I wouldn’t do a thing. It’s not my place. Look, I’m real sorry if they’ve got the wrong person, but I’ve got to take care of my own. I’m not about to put my family in danger for some kid I never met.”
“What kind of danger?” Bess asked.
“Unwanted attention is always dangerous, Bess. And what you’re talking about draws attention. Is that what you called the police for? To tell them they have the wrong person?”
She nodded.
“I don’t like it. Too risky.”
Keeping her head down was so much a part of daily life that Bess no longer gave it much thought. She wondered what Amelia Earhart would do. Earhart the supposed government spy would probably stay quiet. But Earhart the gutsy aviator would probably spend her final breaths trying to tell the world the truth.
“Say, you know they still have that young adult Bible study at First Baptist. It’s twice a week. You should go, you’d make friends,” Wayne said.
“Thanks, but I’m good. You’ve got this, right?” she asked him. “I need to head to the back for a bit. You can holler if you need me.”
He nodded and Bess tried to ignore the concern all over his face as she made her way back to the employee bathroom.
The bathroom was tucked behind the breakroom. It was unisex and single occupancy, with a lock on the inside of the door. Back when it had been Bess’s job to clean the bathroom, she’d cursed Carol every day for her choice of all white fixtures, floors, and walls. The room looked like a nightmare sanitarium. A single light hummed and sputtered overhead.
Bess ran cool water from the sink over her hands, watching it spill down the drain. She turned off the water and studied her reflection in the mirror. Her brown eyes were tired and red. Her long dark elegant limbs juxtaposed brilliantly against the harsh blunt bathroom. She was an oasis of grace within a blatant and glaring backdrop.
There was a knock outside the door.
“Just a second,” she called.
The knocking stopped.
Bess dried her hands and turned to the door and the gentle rapping resumed. Rolling her eyes, she reached for the deadbolt.
“Impatient asshole,” she muttered just as the person on the other side slammed against the door, causing her to yelp and jump back a step. “What the fuck?”
The thin wooden door rattled against the frame as the stranger threw their weight at it.
Bess pressed herself against the far wall looking at the door in horror. She fumbled in her pocket for her cell phone and quickly dialed out.
“Thank you for jumping down The Rabbit Hole. This is Wayne, can I help you?” Wayne had created the greeting himself. No one made him say that.
“Wayne! It’s Bess. There’s someone outside the bathroom banging into the door like a psycho. I don’t know what to do.”
“Okay, no worries. Let me handle it.” He hung up the phone and Bess closed her eyes, trying to hide in the darkness.
The banging stopped.
Bess kept her eyes closed, waiting for Wayne to give her the all clear. The voice she heard didn’t come from outside the door. It was in there with her, next to her, so close she could feel the breath against her neck.
A furtive whisper: “You were supposed to save me.”
The room felt colder. Bess kept her eyes squeezed tight against the presence next to her.
“He’ll come for you next.”
A sharp bang against the bathroom door caused Bess to yelp, her eyes flying open. Wayne was there, a sheepish look on his face.
“I didn’t see anyone. When you didn’t answer me I got a little panicked.” He nodded back to the slim brass bolt that had once held the door closed and now was framed in splinters, its holster torn from the door frame.
“Oh god, Tim, I’ve never been so happy for something in this store to be broken.” She ran to him, flinging her arms around his neck.
“What got you so worked up?” Wayne asked.
“You didn’t see anybody?” she asked in return.
“No, ma’am, not a soul. You know, we should probably tell Carol a customer broke the lock.”
Bess laughed in spite of herself. “Oh god damn, Wayne. I’ll say I broke it myself. That lock is the least of my worries.”
They checked the store together, searching for anyone hiding among the shelves or under a counter. Bess secretly hoped to find a rabid raccoon tearing into the drywall, but had no such luck. Once they were both satisfied they were alone, Wayne retrieved the small tool kit Carol kept in the break room and hurried off to see if he could fix the bathroom lock.
Bess couldn’t stop thinking about Tam Gillis and his supposedly false confession. If a killer was still out there, he’d know no one was looking for him. Now would be the time to take risks, to let his guard down. He would be at his most dangerous, but also most vulnerable. Bess decided to spend some time on her radio. Amy might be able to get a message out while Vlad wasn’t looking.
Wayne returned to the front of the store looking proud of himself.
“You get it fixed?” Bess asked.
“Sure did. Doesn’t look good as new. Not exactly. But it’ll lock.” The smile faded from his face and was replaced by one of concern. “You know what, Bess? I’m worried maybe you’re wound a little too tight about this whole Impaler thing.”
“You think I imagined someone banging against the bathroom door.” It wasn’t a question.
“I don’t know. But there wasn’t anyone here.”
“I’m not an irrational person, Wayne. I won’t let you paint me as one.” Bess’s voice rose slightly and Wayne put up his hands as if to shield himself.
“You aren’t. I know, I know. But I think maybe you’re getting, well, you know…”
“Too emotional?”
“No. Just upset. Naturally upset. We’re all upset. It affects some people different, that’s all.” Wayne’s eyes were kind and pitying. Bess struggled to stay calm, reminding herself that he was a good man. That he wanted to help her.
“I’m not crazy. But yeah, it is on my mind a lot. I wish I knew for sure if that guy they arrested was innocent. I wish I could talk to him.”
“Well, then do it. If that will make you feel better, I say talk to the man.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s not in Siberia, just jail. And last time I checked, prisoners were allowed to have visitors.”
8
THE HOUSE WAS still and dark. Bess didn’t turn on any lights, instead letting her eyes adjust and maneuvering through the hallway with the sort of efficiency that comes from years of repetition. She changed out of her work clothes and into black sweats and a plain white tee shirt. She was on a mission. It was only five o’clock and she had all night.