The Child's Plan by Audrey Walker (books to read this summer .TXT) 📗

her phone pinged, and she slowly opened the message from Kyle.

“Here is a picture of the ring that was found at the crime scene.”

The picture slowly loaded, and as it came into view, Robin froze. She knew who the ring belonged to.

She knew who the killer was.

Chapter Thirteen

The sky thundered and roared as the clouds clashed. Lightning struck through the sky, and thunder echoed against the surroundings. The smell of moist soil and earth spread through the air, foreshadowing the storm that was about to occur. Robin stood there, frozen and shocked. Looking down at the ocean, the sounds of water crashing against the cliffs sent a shiver down Robin’s spine. The water was vicious, the tides high and monstrous. The spray of water landed on her as the water aggressively clashed against the walls of the cliff.

A drop of water fell on her, and with the sound of thunder echoing, rains started to pour down. It was almost as if the clouds themselves were angry and ready to burst, just like her. But before she could even process her feelings, she had to deal with the shock. She thought back to it all and wondered if it was true. “Could it all fit in? Did it all make sense? If it was him, after all, why did he play the game like this? What was he after? Why did he wait so long to do all this?”

She knew Kyle would be waiting for her, but she didn’t have the strength to call him. She didn’t have the energy to tell him the truth. Robin couldn’t say the words Killer and his name in the same sentence. She thought of what would happen if the world knew about him. “Why? Why had he done all this? What did he want from her? All these years, he had been silently hiding? There were gaps she could see. The pieces didn’t fit well enough. It couldn’t be true, could it?”

“I knew you would come here,” his voice echoed through the air. “It’s nice to meet you as myself, Robin.”

“It can’t be you,” Robin whispered.

“Why can’t it?” he said.

“The age doesn’t fit in with the profile–,” Robin said.

He swallowed and then said, “Robin, Robin. Tsk, tsk. I expected better from you. If people lie about their identities, do you think they can’t fake their age? I have been watching you all this time. I have been playing all along, waiting for my moment.”

“What do you want from me?” she whispered.

“How could you forget me, Robin?” he whispered. “How could you forget me? After all those months, you just forgot me? Just like that?”

“It wasn’t in my control,” Robin said. “I lost most of my memories of that period. I didn’t intentionally–.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I relied on you. You were the first person to show me any kindness after my mother, the first person to love me. Others just avoided me, ignored me. I was too ugly, too scary. But you, you showed me such warmth and affection. I thought you were different. But in the end, you are the same as all of them. You were the same as my mother. She said she would always be there for me, but she wasn’t. She left me.”

“I thought the Butcher killed her,” Robin said, frowning.

“He did,” he whispered. “He took my mother from me. I saw it happen. I was hiding under the stairs, as my mother asked. I remember her looking into my eyes and telling me to hide, telling me to never come out of there.”

He trailed off, shaking and shivering.

“My mother was the one who taught me everything. She taught me how to read and write; she taught me how to walk and talk and escape from the horrible place to find food for myself. I tried to help her escape, but the Butcher was too careful. So, I brought her what food I could. The vent I used to escape was too small for her. She asked me to run away, I remember. She told me to go to the police and tell them everything, but I was too scared. I had never been to the outside world. Every time she told me to run away and find help, I came back to her every time. I was not even eight.”

“Don’t,” Robin whispered. “Don’t speak anymore. It can’t be you! It can’t!” As much as Robin wanted to deny it, she couldn’t. He knew too much. The details, they were all so accurate; it had to be him. “Who else could it be? How would he know so much if it wasn’t him?” But Robin didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t want to accept that it was him.

“I watched him beat my mother,” he whispered. “Every day that man would come to her and ask her to marry him, and every day she said no. Every day he beat her up, and every day she made me hide in the dark corner. Her eyes were always pleading at me to stay there. I think she was scared. Too scared of what he might do to me. He knew I existed, but he didn’t care for me.”

“Just stop talking!” Robin shouted, pulling out her gun. “It can’t be you!”

“But it is,” he whispered. “I am the child in the basement. I am your killer.”

Robin’s hand trembled as she looked at the familiar face, tears running down her cheeks.

She had no choice but to accept it.

The killer was Jim.

Chapter Fourteen

“Don’t take another step forward,” Robin said, pointing her gun at him.

Jim just looked at her, his eyes dead and his face expressionless.

“Can you imagine the trauma?” he whispered. “I wasn’t just abused by him. He ignored me. Can you imagine if your own father refuses to acknowledge your very existence? If he acts like you are not even there? Even when you are under his feet, can you imagine that pain? So unworthy that my father won’t