Daddy's Little Killer

Chapter 39

Chapter 39

 

A gentle shake pulled me away from my distant reflection. A little bit. I was aware that I was moving. Standing now. Someone was saying my name.

"Helen? Helen, talk to me. What's wrong?"

Yes, I really was in Darkwater Bay. I had already put a plan into motion. Sincerity slammed into me in the form of Orion's concerned expression. Johnny. For some reason, I seem to be naturally drawn to the wrong people. Rick Hamilton. Jerry Lowe. And all around me are genuinely good guys who are all but invisible. David Levine. Charlie Haverston. Even Chris Darnell turned out to be one of the trustworthy, and I despised him.

One good guy made his way through my perception filter and stirred something deep inside me. He stood in front of me wearing every emotion he felt like a badge of honor. My fingers moved of their own volition, stroked the side of his face tenderly. "Johnny." So much he didn't know, couldn't possibly know. If he did, the emotion in his guileless eyes would most certainly die. I didn't want that. Inexplicably, it mattered to me what these people, Johnny specifically, thought of me.

Could I reinvent myself at this late stage in life? Could I be a better person, find the honor that Wendell hadn't really instilled in me? Was that what I wanted?

"Helen." His chest heaved with a gulping breath. "Let's get through this case first."

"I don't know if I can." How could I separate who I had become from the evil deeds of Jerry Lowe? How could I sit in judgment on him and try to trick him into confessing his crimes when I was as guilty as he was?

Johnny pulled me into his chest and hugged me tightly. I felt his lips whispering over my hair. "Oh honey. I was afraid this would hit you hard at some point. You're safe. He can't hurt you. I'm so sorry that he got as close as he did, but I promise you, it'll never happen again."

I wanted to laugh. Of course he would attribute emotions to me that I didn't feel. Johnny wanted to believe I was shaken over the recent attempts on my life. It's always easier to let people believe the lie. I didn't see that I had any choice at this point. To correct him would involve a confession.

The other option felt much better. Stand here in his embrace and soak up the comfort offered. Sweet lethargy seeped into my bones. For an insane moment, I wanted to stay wrapped up in the safety he offered for the rest of my life.

"I'm calling in people I can trust to do this. You need to go home and rest," Orion said. 

"No!"

"Helen, it's all right."

"It isn't all right. I have to see this through. I have to confront him for what he's done to these women. Johnny, I'm fine." I stepped away from him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"Are you sure?"

No, but I have to pretend to be certain. "I'm positive. Let's end this. The sooner we find Lowe's death-mobile, the sooner we can go arrest him. He's not going to be content filling in the blanks for Darnell indefinitely."

Johnny procured bolt cutters from the trunk of his car. The miracle was that I didn't find it odd to carry them around in case of emergency. He snapped the industrial sized padlock on the garage door and hefted it high above our heads.

I shined a flashlight inside.

The term used to describe this type of camper was a silver bullet. First constructed in 1936, the model had become an enduring symbol of luxury camping and life on the road. I took a tentative step into the neatly organized space in the garage and shined the light on the riveted aluminum body. The company emblem Airstream looked as pristine as the day it had been applied on an assembly line. No dings. No tarnish. No discernible wear. Still, I estimated its age at minimum of forty years.