Rivercreek Crossing

Chapter 15

August 18, 1984

The storm rumbled all around Reese, but it didn’t scare her. She barely noticed it. She was alone and swallowed up by a hollowness; the void between the girl she was three months ago and now was so vast, she would never find the old Reese again. She was transforming into a different person than she would have become, but she was only vaguely aware of the metamorphism.  She was focused. She was determined. She had a goal and all her thoughts zeroed in on that one target. Her brother’s killer was the bull’s eye and she was the aiming arrow.

Reese roamed the town limits without direction, weaving in and out of neighborhoods, waiting for the inspiration she could feel nagging at the base of her skull. She knew she could piece the puzzle together if only she knew where the pieces were hidden. She deliberated her next step. If she was going to find justice for Luke’s murder, she needed to be clever. The police hadn’t found his killer nor did they have a viable suspect. So why did she think she could accomplish what they could not?  With a realization as startling as the zigzag of lightning splitting the sky open, she knew. Luke. Luke was her secret weapon.

He had said he didn’t recall any details of his death, but perhaps there were clues in the days leading up to his disappearance. Maybe he could recount his final few days before he was taken. If there was one thing she knew without a doubt, his death wasn’t random. Someone wanted him dead. She could not even begin to wrap her mind around the possibility that he was some arbitrary victim to a psycho’s game.

Sopping wet, but with purpose, she marched back into town. After more than an hour in the torrential downfalls, her anger and confusion about her dad’s comments was somewhat mollified, as if the rain has washed them away. Reese realized how absurd it had been of her to think their father could have killed Luke so savagely. But she didn’t completely dismiss the hypothesis either. For the moment, he was the closest thing to a suspect. After all, he did openly admit he killed Luke. Her single goal branched into two goals. Find Luke’s killer and prove to herself that her dad was not the killer.

Reese’s next step formulated clearly in her head as if she could suddenly see after hours of being blindfolded. She trudged through running flood waters along the curbsides, making her way back to Two Scoops. It was where her evening had started anyway. She had gone there to discover a clue in the mural and a clue she was going to find.

All the storefronts encircling the quant town common were dark, with the exception of one. Two Scoops was lit up as if for business, but there were no patrons milling about the small outdoor terrace of linked off parlor tables and chairs. Of course the weather would be the culprit if the shop were open.

Reese crossed the street and saw no one working the ice cream counter. As she got closer to the single glass door with double sidelites, she saw movement to the right, by the mural. It took her brain a few seconds to register what she was witnessing.

“NO!” She screamed as loud as her lungs allowed.

Gregory had a paint roller brush coated in bubblegum pink paint attached to a pole wavering in front of the mural. He turned toward the sound of the muffled scream, pole levitating in the air.

She rattled the door and when it wouldn’t open, Reese used both fisted hands to bang on the glass. Gregory squinted at her for a couple of seconds as she continued to yell, “NO! Don’t do that!” He didn’t even let go of the pole as he trotted to the door. He twisted the lock and pushed the door open.

“Reese, what the hell?” He stammered as he let her in like flood waters breaking through a weak dam. She ran to the mural and stared up at the destructive pink roadways marring the original artwork. The sobs rolled from somewhere deep inside of her and expelled in long explosive heaves.