He rose, walked to the bathroom, shut the door, and kept the light off. He slid to the floor and stared into the darkness.
17
Frank walked alone, shining his light up and down, side to side, hoping to see something other than an alley cat. His hands tingled from numbness and his nose dripped.
This was his town. His town to serve. His town to protect. He wasn’t losing a girl to a crime like this. As innocent as Marlo was-or once was-he knew there were shadows, cast long and harsh against its streets. Long and harsh and old. The curse was not new. Just forgotten.
He called the girl’s name. It echoed against the buildings in the town square area. The crisp night air did nothing to stifle the rotten odors that fumed from the Dumpsters.
“Come on, Gabby. Where are you?” Frank whispered. He stood at the end of the last alleyway. Maybe he would go to the river tonight on his own and search.
Suddenly his phone vibrated against his hip. It was his personal cell. Who would be calling him in the middle of the night? He quickly snatched it up and looked at the caller ID. It wasn’t a number he recognized. “Frank Merret.”
“It’s Jenna.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to meet with you.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just need to talk to you.”
“Where are you?”
“Meet me at the park on the north side, where the bell is.”
The phone went dead. Frank checked his watch-3:45 a.m. What in the world was Jenna doing out at this hour? Did Damien know? He started to dial Damien’s cell, then stopped. He should meet Jenna first, see what was wrong. She called him for a reason.
Frank got in his car and hurried to Marlo Park, the only park in town. It reminded him of a perfectly groomed woman-manicured, brushed, coddled, coifed. Large silver maples boasted their color in the fall. Bright tulips spelled out Marlo in the center of the park in the spring.
Frank pulled into one of several small parking places and got out. His mind flashed back fourteen years to a warm Sunday afternoon. He and Angela strolled through the west side of the park, where five weeping willows marked a path that led to a small, man-made waterfall. There was nothing out of the ordinary that day.
Except that day, near the sound of the rushing water, with the birds singing their songs in the trees, he had knelt down and opened a small, black box. Inside, a tiny ring with a tiny diamond that had cost him an arm and a leg barely glimmered. It was small, but it didn’t seem to matter to her. She adored it as if it were of great value.
It seemed like yesterday.
Frank had yet to get warm. He stuffed his hands deep into his pockets and searched through the darkness, trying to find Jenna. There, on a bench.
She watched as he walked toward her. She looked cold and tired. And scared.
He sat down, his body aching and weary. He turned to her. “You’re okay?”
She nodded. In the dim moonlight, her eyes glistened with tears. “I have to tell you something.”
“You know you can always tell me anything.”
“It’s about Gabby.”
Frank tried not to look startled. “What about her?”
“It’s just… It’s…”
“Take your time.”
Jenna took in a deep breath. “It’s hard.”
“Do you know what happened to Gabby?”
“No. Not exactly. But there are some girls at the school…” She took another breath as if each word sucked every bit of air out of her. “One girl especially, who hates Gabby.” She glanced at Frank. “I’ve heard her talk about Gabby. In mean ways. In really mean ways.”
“You think she might’ve done something?”
Jenna’s words came in short, anxious bursts. “I don’t know. I mean, sometimes I think maybe I’m overreacting, that it’s just girl stuff. But they… Nobody would believe me. Everyone thinks they’re nice girls. They say stuff, though. And do stuff. Under the radar so nobody suspects them.”
“What’s the name of the girl you think might be involved?”
Jenna’s gloved hands were at her mouth, her fingers curled against her lips.
“It’s okay. You can tell me.”
“That’s what nobody understands,” she whispered. “There are consequences.”
Frank got out of his car just as Lou Grayson pulled up.
Grayson looked around at the abandoned rest stop as he shut the door on his car. “Hey, Frank. You happen to stop for coffee?”
“No.”
Grayson nodded like he wasn’t expecting that he did. The two men joined each other on the sidewalk. Lou put his hands on his hips. “You got a tip, huh?”
“Yeah. Anybody else coming?”
“No. Left them there, didn’t want to try to relocate everyone yet. This place isn’t too terribly big. We can at least go in and look, see what we see. Maybe come back at daybreak with more people.”
“All right. You got your flashlight?”
“Yeah.”
“Beyond this rest stop there is supposedly a clearing.”
They turned on their lights and walked forward. To their right was a small, covered eating area, rotting picnic benches the only reminder that people used to use this place. Closed-up bathrooms hid underneath the shadows of a large group of trees.
Frank checked the doors. Both were chained shut. “Gabby? You in there?” He pounded on a door.
Silence.
Grayson yelled from behind the bathroom building, “Windows are sealed up. Let’s keep moving. We’ll double-check this in a little bit.”
They headed toward a line of trees, where it became dense. Limbs and vines, splashed with the blue light of the moon, tangled like lovers.
“On the other side,” Frank said, motioning with his flashlight, “is that small clearing where the girls supposedly hang out.” He pushed forward, hacking at vines, aiming his light ahead. “Gabby? You out here? Gabby?”
A sharp thorn caught Frank’s pants at the shin, ripping them and his flesh. He grabbed his leg and felt the blood ooze into his hand. There was no end in sight to these thorny weeds.
Grayson came up beside him. “There are cockleburs everywhere. This is like walking through tiny sharp spikes. We’re going to have to get some tools to clear these out before we can go forward.”
Frank grabbed Grayson’s arm. “You hear that?”
They stopped. Both men steadied themselves, and Frank drew his gun. Ahead, a sound that Frank couldn’t identify competed with the wind. Maybe a small animal?
“What is that?” Lou whispered.
“I’m going in.”
“Frank! Wait! You can’t go through those-”
“Gabby?” Frank tore through the weeds, hacking at them with his gun. Each cut stung worse than the one before, but he couldn’t stop. This was the only way. Blood soaked his pants and dribbled down each arm.
As he neared the clearing on the other side, Frank’s light hit a large tree. He stopped to listen. Moaning? Was that what he heard?
Then he saw her.
Frank fought through, breaking the remaining vines and branches. “Gabby!”
As he made his way into the clearing, the entire sight startled him to a near standstill. Her eyes, hollow and vacant, stared, unblinking. Was she dead?
“No!” Frank scrambled forward, stumbling toward her. “Gabby!”
Her hands were tied behind her, and she was gagged. She sat at the base of the tree, four ropes tying her body to it. She’d been stripped of all her clothes except a tank top and boxer shorts. She didn’t seem to be responding to the light or her name being called.
“Lou!” Frank shouted. “I found her! Get some medical attention!”
He heard Grayson radioing in the call as he threw off his coat. He approached her slowly, cautiously laying his coat over her. Her hand was ice-cold. He pulled the gag off her mouth and gently patted her cheek. “Can you hear me?”