Don't Say a Word (Strangers Series) (7 page)

Piglet began to bark. Before Allie had the chance to look up, a patio chair screeched against the deck and Carrie shot up from her chair. The last vestiges of blood had drained from her pale face, and there was a look of terror in her eyes. She was staring at something in the yard.

“What the—” Allie started. She quickly scanned the perimeter and then she saw what Carrie was looking at.

A strange man was in their yard.

From the very first glance, Allie could see that there was something not right about the man. The unnatural wideness of his eyes screamed trouble. “Sammy!” she shrieked, jumping up and barely noticing the splash of hot coffee across her chest as she darted toward her son.

“Sammy!” she screamed. “Sammy, come here! Now!”

But Sammy just stood, facing the gaunt, scraggly-looking man. The two stood only ten feet from one another—the man would have plenty of time to snatch him up and run off into the woods.

Bitty was yelling for the girls to go inside the house when, to Allie’s surprise, Sammy took a step toward the man.

“Hi. What your name?” she heard her little boy ask politely.

Finally reaching Sammy, Allie gathered him in her arms and ran back to the house. She whipped past Zoe, who was standing frozen in the yard, a blade of grass still between her fingers.

“Johnny!” Allie screamed, out of breath.
“Johnny!”

Allie released a frightened, crying Sammy into the safety of the living room, and turned back to the yard. Bitty, a cell phone pressed against her ear, was now standing between the man and Zoe.

“Don’t you dare come any closer,” the old woman warned, her palm extended. “Who are you? And why are you on my property?”

From where Allie stood, she could see sweat streaming from the sides of the thin man’s face. It was barely fifty-degree weather, and he was wearing only short sleeves, but sweating. He scratched hard at one of his arms.

As a frightened Sammy wailed in the living room, Allie realized she no longer saw Carrie. She stepped back onto the deck and found the girl by the stairs leading into the yard, her back pressed against the house.

Allie yanked her inside, then called for Johnny again. “Johnny, dammit! Are you still here?” Allie yelled again.
“Johnny!”
she called, watching the man in the yard step to one side of Bitty so that he had a direct line of sight to Zoe. He stopped scratching his arm and extended his hands, palms up, as though showing they were empty.

“Hi, Zoe girl,” he said, his eyes wild. “Now, now . . . there’s no reason to look so scared.”

The blade of grass fell from Zoe’s hand, and Allie watched her back away from him.

Is that the mother’s boyfriend, Gary?
Allie wondered, remembering Zoe talking about him with the forensic therapist. If so, she was pretty certain that he was a suspect in the murders. Her chest tightened even more.

“We’re at 22741 County Road 447,” Bitty said, speaking rapidly into her cell phone. “We have a trespasser who appears to be dangerous. Please, hurry. Three children are in danger.”

Johnny finally appeared at the sliding glass door, shirtless, and his hair damp as though he’d been in the shower. “What the hell’s going on now?” he asked, fumbling with his belt.

Allie pointed to the man. “There’s a man in the yard. Do something!”

“What?” He squinted into the yard. “Who the hell is he?”

“I don’t know! And Zoe’s out there!”

Johnny stepped onto the deck. “Dude, what do you think you’re doing?” he called. “This is private property.”

In the background, Sammy began to cry even louder. Piglet, her barks now howls, stood rigid only a few feet from the man. He kicked awkwardly at the dog, but his foot didn’t connect, and he stumbled.

“Carrie . . . bring Sammy to my bedroom and lock the door,” Allie instructed. “Now!” Carrie silently grabbed Sammy’s hand. He screamed as she pulled him away.

Ignoring Johnny, the man continued to talk to Zoe. “Zoe girl. I didn’t come to hurt nobody, okay? I just need to know what you told them about me.”

Bitty grabbed Zoe by the arm and pulled her back to the house.

“No, don’t!” the man shouted. “I need to talk to her!”

But Bitty kept moving. She and Zoe scrambled up the stairs of the deck and to the door.

“Dude! You didn’t hear me talking to you?” Johnny asked, finally stepping off the deck and into the yard.

The man’s eyes darted from Zoe to Johnny. He blinked and regarded Johnny for the very first time, his eyes bugging out. He reached into his waistband and pulled out a gun. He swung it in Johnny’s direction. “Don’t you come closer, you hear me?” he warned.

Allie’s world went still.

Johnny stopped in his tracks and raised his hands. “Whoa. Easy now.”

The man’s hands shook as he took a step closer to the house. “I just want to talk to Zoe. That’s all. I didn’t come here to hurt anybody, okay?” he said, looking frantic. “Now bring her back out.”

“Jesus! Put that gun away, dude. Someone could get hurt.”

“I said bring her out!” the man screamed.

“Look, I don’t know what in the hell is going on, but you don’t want to be doing this,” Johnny told the man.

“Shut the fuck up!” he roared. Then he returned his attention to the house. “Bring her out, dammit. Bring her the fuck back, I said!”

Allie stepped into the living room, slid the door shut, and locked it.

A long moment passed in silence.

Finally realizing they weren’t going to bring Zoe out, the man lumbered toward the house.

CHAPTER 11

AS THE MAN reached the top step of the deck, the screams of police sirens split the cold morning air.

The man paused, his eyes darting from the sliding glass door to the windows of the back bedrooms, then to the sliding glass door again. “Shit!” he yelled. He glanced once more at the house, then jumped from the deck and quickly vanished into the woods.

Her hands trembling, Allie unlocked the sliding glass door and slid it open.

“What the hell?” Johnny asked from the yard, dumbstruck. “This place is insane.”

“Come in, and make sure to lock the door behind you,” Allie said. Blood still thundering in her veins, she hurried to her bedroom to check on her son.

As she passed the foyer, she saw Bitty at the front door, talking to a uniformed police officer.

“In the backyard,” Bitty was saying. “He just took off into the woods. He hasn’t been gone two minutes.”

“And you don’t know who he is?” the police officer asked.

“I have no idea, but he seems to know my foster children.”

Zoe unlocked the bedroom door, and Allie rushed inside and folded a crying Sammy into her arms.

“You scared me, Mommy!” he whined, big tears sliding down his cheeks. His blue eyes were wide, frightened. “I no like what you did. Why you scare me like that?”

He sobbed against her chest, his long, damp eyelashes fluttering against her collarbone. She sobbed right along with him. “I’m so sorry, honey,” she said, pressing her nose in his hair and kissing his head. “Mommy didn’t mean to. I just needed you to go inside the house. But everything’s okay now. Everything’s okay.”

Allie felt the air behind her part. She turned to see Johnny. “Daddy!” Sammy cried. He released Allie and ran to his father.

Allie went to the girls. They were huddled together on the bed. “Are you guys all right?”

“Is he gone?” Zoe asked, her cheeks tear streaked.

Allie heard the blip of a police vehicle outside. “Yes. He’s gone.”

“Is he . . . is he coming back?”

Allie hoped not, but she didn’t know, so she didn’t answer. “Was that Gary? Your mother’s boyfriend?”

Zoe nodded, her chin trembling.

An hour later, Allie sat in the kitchen with Zoe and Renee, the forensic therapist Zoe had talked with at the Child Advocacy Center.

Because Zoe had refused to go back to the center, Detective Lambert had arranged for the therapist to come to the house to speak to her. He’d also arranged for closed-circuit television gear to be set up so the session could be recorded. Sammy was in the living room with Bitty and the girls’ caseworker while Allie sat in the kitchen with Zoe. Throughout the house, the drapes and blinds were all drawn, making it feel much later in the day than it was.

Zoe sat by the bank of windows in the kitchen, hugging her body tightly and rocking. As Allie studied her, Zoe suddenly looked up and their eyes met. Allie lifted her lips into a smile, but Zoe didn’t smile back. Instead, she studied Allie with those guarded eyes of hers. Although she’d insisted on Allie being with her during the therapist’s interviews, Allie could still tell the girl didn’t trust her.

“You okay?” Allie asked, then immediately regretted the question. It was a stupid one. Zoe must’ve realized it was stupid, too, because she didn’t bother to answer.

After talking with Detective Lambert, Renee walked in and took a seat. She was looking very casual again in yoga pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt that read “Calm down. I’m a shrink.” She smiled warmly at Zoe and did her leaning-in thing again. “Is there something at the advocacy center that makes you uncomfortable, Zoe? Is that why you didn’t want to go in today?”

“I . . . I just wanted to stay home,” Zoe answered.

Allie was surprised to hear Zoe use the word “home.” She couldn’t help but wonder if it was simply a figure of speech, or if Zoe was already feeling a little more comfortable at their house.

“I see. I’ll tell you a secret then. I do, too,” the young woman said, and winked. “I love being at home. I wish I was able to be there more.”

Zoe stared at the woman.

“So, tell me more about this man, Gary, who paid you guys a visit today. Is he the same person you were telling me about yesterday?”

Zoe nodded.

“Do you know what he wanted? Why he showed up today?”

Zoe shrugged. “He said something about wanting to know what I’d told you.”

“Did you answer him?”

“No. I didn’t talk to him at all.”

“Are you afraid of Gary, Zoe?”

Zoe peered down at her hands, pressed together in her lap. “I hate him.”

“Why do you hate him?”

“He’s weird. He
. . .” She lowered her eyes and rocked harder. “Once, he . . .

Allie shifted in her seat.

“What did he do, Zoe?” Renee asked.

Zoe swallowed hard. “I woke up in the middle of the night a couple of weeks ago, and . . . and he . . .” She inhaled sharply and shuddered. When she looked up, her eyes were glittering with tears. “He was standing next to my bed. He asked if he could get in with me and rub my back.”

The rest of the morning was a blur. Johnny left for Dallas shortly before Zoe’s session with the therapist, and at some point, although she couldn’t remember when, Allie had grabbed Sammy and retreated to her bedroom. Now they lay in bed. The morning’s excitement had sucked them both dry, physically and emotionally. Sammy was taking his second nap of the day, and Allie was trying to fall asleep, but there was still too much adrenaline in her bloodstream.

As she had sensed, the girls’ arrival had changed everything.

It had been fewer than three days since she’d first laid eyes on these girls, and now the whole safe world that had taken her years to build felt as flimsy as a house of cards.

It’ll all pass soon
, she assured herself.
This, like everything else, will pass . . . and we’ll be fine.

The police had issued an all-points bulletin on Gary and his truck. Detective Lambert was confident that as long as he hadn’t already skipped town, they would find Gary quickly. Plus, the twins weren’t going to be in Bitty and Allie’s care forever. Both situations were only temporary. The detective had also assigned a patrol car to the property for the time being . . . hopefully until Gary was caught.

Bitty had asked endless questions of Detective Lambert, but because Gary was a suspect in an active homicide investigation, the detective was unable to answer a lot of them. Nevertheless, Bitty was stubborn and resourceful. If she wanted to get to the bottom of a situation, she usually did. So she began making phone calls.

Between what the detective and Zoe had told them, and what Miss Bitty had learned on her own, Allie knew that the man in their yard had been Gary Jason Willis. He was thirty-seven years old, a longtime substance abuser, and his current substance of choice was believed to be methamphetamine. He’d worked as an installer for a local granite company for over ten years, but was known to deal drugs on the side. Gary had a long police record, had been charged with two assault and battery charges in the last five years alone, and had three young sons under the age of ten and a baby on the way. He’d also been “dating” the girls’ married mother, Julie Parish, for about three months.

After news of the murders had broken, no one had seen Gary—until this morning. Troubled by the length of time he’d been gone, his wife had even reported him missing. A neighbor gave a statement saying that not only was Gary’s truck parked in the Parish family’s driveway until late Tuesday night, those who saw him when he left said, as Zoe had, that he seemed to be in a big hurry.

Allie tried to process everything she’d learned, but it was too much. Her brain was so scrambled she could barely think. She just knew that she was disturbed. She thought of how easily Sammy could’ve gotten abducted. How quickly bad things could happen. How, suddenly, everything . . .
everything . . .
could change. It made her realize that she had Bitty and Sammy only temporarily. That one day, both would be taken from her. Whether their bond was broken due to a disagreement or because someone died, a day would come when they’d be separated forever.

A shiver rolled through her.

For God’s sake, STOP! You’re doing it again.

Forcing herself back into the present, she kissed her sleeping son’s soft cheek and watched his tiny hands and stubby little fingers as they rose and fell on his little round stomach. She watched him and tried to convince herself that their life was still easy, safe, comfortable, and secure.

Never mind that a patrolman was sitting in front of the house in case a suspected murderer decided to threaten them again. Or that a few feet away, a child whose parents had both just been murdered was likely, at any moment, to let out a blood-curdling shriek.

At eight o’clock that evening, Allie decided to check on Bitty and the twins. She felt guilty for leaving Bitty alone with the girls, but she’d needed some time to just breathe and get through the emotional trauma of the morning. Besides, it was only for a few hours, and if Bitty needed anything, Allie had only been a few feet and a couple of walls away.

When she stepped into the hallway, the house was dark and eerily quiet. Usually, Bitty would still be up. But right now she was nowhere in sight. Allie stopped outside the girls’ room and listened, but all was quiet on the other side.

She poured a drink, then did another quick security check of the house, knowing good and well that Bitty had already done the same. But checking and rechecking made her feel better.

After her drink, she retreated back to her bedroom. Earlier, she’d called her office to tell her boss that she needed the day off for a family emergency. Taking the day off was the last thing she’d wanted to do. Her boss was a very kind man who believed in her. He was one of the very few who ever had. But she couldn’t leave Bitty alone with the kids while a murder suspect was stalking them.

She tried to push the financial repercussions of the missed work to the back of her mind. It wouldn’t do her any good to try to deal with everything all at once. She rubbed her temples. She couldn’t—
wouldn’t
—worry about any of that . . . yet. As with everything else, one step forward at a time.
Just move in the right direction and everything will be fine.

In the bathroom, Allie took her antidepressant, washed her face, and brushed her teeth without even one glance in the mirror. Crawling into bed, she flipped off the lights and stared into the gloomy darkness, trying to get her brain to shut down for a little while. Taking deep breaths, she closed her eyes and waited—for sleep or the screams, whichever would come first.