“Evidence of murder, rather than a monster.”
“Why would I hide anything like that?”
“Because it’s hard to sell a myth on TV when you’ve got a human being in jail for the crimes.”
“You think I’d let a killer go free just to get ratings?”
“Actually, I think you might.”
“Actually, I think you’re right,” he told me with a sly grin. “People don’t really want the truth, you know. They like the mystery. But in this case, the truth is, I didn’t find anything. I wasn’t able to prove the Ursulina did it, but I didn’t find evidence to suggest someone else did, either. Everything the volunteers gathered and brought in during the search, I turned over to Darrell. He told me he didn’t find anything useful to the case.”
I nodded. “Okay. Well, I had to ask.”
“However, I do have many hours of raw footage from the search stored away in my mother’s attic,” Ben went on. “Only a few minutes actually wound up on air. If you really believe a human being was responsible for these murders, rather than a monster, you’re welcome to go through the footage anytime you want.”
My brow furrowed. “Why would I do that? What do you think I’d find?”
“Well, whoever killed those men must have been pretty nervous about that search,” Ben replied. “If I were the killer, I would have wanted to be there to make sure nothing turned up that pointed a finger at me. So it’s just possible that somewhere in all those hours of footage, we got the murderer on film.”
Chapter Thirty-One
That night, I dreamed about you, Shelby.
It was the first of many dreams I would have where we were together. As strange as it sounds, you’ve always been with me. I’ve felt your closeness all these years. I’ve never stopped talking to you and wishing things had happened differently.
In my dream, you weren’t a baby or even a child. You were all grown up, a beautiful young woman around my age, with dark hair like mine, but straighter and parted in the middle. I could see so much of myself in your face, in those dreaming brown eyes, in the milky pale skin, in the inquisitive little smile on your mouth when you looked at the world and tried to understand it. Those are all things I gave you, even if you don’t realize it. It made me sad, though, to see you without the years in between, because it meant I’d missed your growing up. I hadn’t been there.
That night, though, the dream brought us together. Rebecca and Shelby. Mother and daughter. We held hands. We didn’t talk, but we felt no need to talk. There was this instant, intimate familiarity between us, of knowing each other, of connectedness. Being with you made me happy. You filled me with a glow of contentment, because you were smart and fearless and beautiful.
We were in the forest. Whenever I sleep, I go to the forest. It wasn’t night, but the crowding of the trees created a gloomy grayness around us. Birds flitted through the shadows, but oddly, they didn’t sing. The world was as still as a painting, no wind, no warmth, no chill. We followed a well-walked path side by side, but the dirt at our feet was dry as dust, and we left no footprints. When I looked back, it seemed as if we hadn’t been there at all.
I had so many questions for you. About your life. About your past. Are you married? Do you have children? Do you have friends? Do you laugh?
But I asked none of those things. I simply walked with you through the magical forest, and the farther we went, the more the grayness turned to dark. The birds went away. Night began to fall like a great shadow. A feeling of foreboding crept over me, and I knew what was coming next. It happened this way in all my dreams. In my waking hours, I hunted for the beast, but in my dreams, the beast hunted me.
I heard the noise that had haunted my life, that had become my secret obsession. It was the sound of the monster, drawing near, coming back for me. The reunion that I’d sought since I was ten years old happened every night when I closed my eyes. But this dream was different, because this time, I realized that the beast wasn’t here for me. No, this was much worse.
The Ursulina was coming for you.
A black shape crashed through the underbrush, its breath loud and heavy. In the darkness, suddenly, I had a flashlight in my hand, the way I did years ago. As the monster stormed toward us, my light shined on shaggy fur and the curves of sharp, huge claws. And I heard crying at my feet. When I looked down, I saw that you weren’t a woman anymore, Shelby. You were a baby again, nestled in my Easter basket among green paper curlicues.
Crying. Cold. Scared. Alone.
The beast was coming, and I had to protect you from him. I felt fear like nothing I’d ever known, but also a determined, furious, vengeful rage at the idea that anything would threaten my child. I would never let him hurt you. The beast could have me, it could take me, it could kill me, but you would live. You would be safe. I saw the monster looming in front of me. Tall, hunched, huge. Its great paws raised high, its rancid snorts hot on my face. I saw the claws that would rip me to shreds, open up my body, spill my blood. The teeth that would tear and gnaw at my flesh and consume me until I was completely inside him.
But it would never, never take my baby.
I stepped in front of the basket, shielding you.
“It’s me you want!” I screamed at the beast. “It’s me you’ve always wanted. Here I am!”
My eyes flew open. I awakened from one nightmare into another.
I lay on the sofa in my cold living room, where I’d fallen asleep, as I usually did these days. The fire I’d built had died to embers, just enough to cast a faint orange glow. One of my kitchen chairs had been pulled into the middle of the room, and a man sat on it, watching me.
Ricky.
He was back.
For an instant, I wondered if I was still dreaming, but I wasn’t. Immediately, I grabbed for my purse, which was where I kept my gun, but Ricky gave a low chuckle and waved my revolver in the air.
Next I reached for the phone to call for help, but when I picked up the handset, I saw that he’d sliced the cord.
“What do you want, Ricky?” I asked, trying to cover my terror with the ice in my voice. “Why are you here?”
“Very nice, Bec. I haven’t seen you in what? Almost nine months, judging by the basketball you’ve got down there. And that’s how you greet your husband?”
“We’re not married. I divorced you after you beat the shit out of me.”
Ricky shook his head. His lips smacked as he chewed a stick of gum. “I don’t care what a piece of paper says. You’re my wife, and you always will be. We went to church. You swore before God to love, honor, and obey me. Until death do us part. Remember? There’s nothing a court can do to change that.”
“Get the hell out of my house.”
“Our house,” Ricky fired back at me.
He stood up from the chair. When he walked toward me, I cringed. I put my hands over my belly, as if I could cover your eyes, Shelby. I didn’t want you to see this man, to hear him speak, to have him be any part of your life. Maybe he was your father, maybe not, but he was dead to both of us.
“What do you want?” I asked again. “Money?”
“No, I don’t need money. I’ve got money now. I wanted to see you. I’ve missed you.”
Ricky caressed my face with the long barrel of the revolver. I didn’t wince or turn away. Not from him. The thought of grabbing the gun flashed through my mind. If it had just been the two of us, I would have done it. I wouldn’t have cared who lived or died. But I wasn’t alone. I had you, Shelby.
“You look good, Bec,” Ricky told me. “I’d forgotten how pretty that face of yours is. Glowing. Isn’t that what they call it?”