Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (books on motivation .txt) 📗

She looked closely at the crime scene photographs. Kimberley strained her eyes to focus on every detail. The strands of grass. The specks of dirt. The freckles on Hannah Brown’s arms. She reread the few witness statements they had, from Hannah’s mom, her co-worker, her boss, her daycare, the fisherman at the scene. All the fisherman could tell them was when and where he found the body. Everything else in the report was a blubbering mess. The first deputies on the scene could only verify how they found the body. Hannah’s mother couldn’t tell them anything about the night that her daughter was murdered aside from the fact they fought that day. Her co-worker, her boss, and Isobel’s daycare teacher said Hannah was normal on the day she was murdered. Kimberley still hadn’t gotten in touch with Isobel’s father, Tyler Louis. It was a loose end that needed to be tied up. She wrote his name down on a pad of paper, circling it twice. Bearfield had verified that Hannah had worked at the pharmacy earlier that day and that there was nothing unusual, but what did her co-workers know about her? She wrote down “co-workers.” How often did Lisa watch Isobel? She wrote down “Lisa.” Was Hannah dating anyone? Nothing in her apartment indicated that she was, nor in her cell phone records, aside from the unregistered number. What about the daycare center? Sure, as Bearfield noted in his interview, Hannah was fine on the day of her murder, but what about before that? What could they tell Kimberley about Hannah? They interacted with her several days a week. Kimberley wrote down “Happy Trails Daycare.”

She tossed down the pad of paper and pen and let out a sigh. Maybe Sam was right. It was a true-crime obsessive, an out-of-towner, responsible for the gruesome murder. After all, the sheriff knew Dead Woman Crossing better than anyone, well, aside from Barb. She pushed everything back into her tote bag and laid her head on the pillow.

Kimberley told herself that she had a few things to follow up on tomorrow, as weak as leads as they may be, they were still something to get her started. That was enough to ease her slowly to sleep.

Kimberley’s eyes shot open. A pressure had built up in her pelvic region, calling her back into consciousness. The bedroom was dark and dead silent, save for the soft breathing of her sleeping daughter in the crib. She glanced over at the clock on her bed stand. 3 a.m. She closed her eyes again, trying to fall back asleep, but the pain was too much, and duty called. She groaned to herself, sliding out of bed. Holding her hands out in front of her, she felt her way to the door. An uncomfortable sharpness met both of her palms as the popcorn walls once again jutted into her flesh, its bloodlust still not quenched. Kimberley stepped to the left and felt down for the doorknob. She pulled it open slowly and tiptoed out into the dark hallway. The house was eerily silent. The floor creaked under her. She paused, hoping she hadn’t woken anyone. Silence. Not even the ambient sounds of crickets outside or the wind blowing through the vegetation. Nothing. It took her a few steps to reach the bathroom and before flicking on the light, she closed the door behind her, so as not to illuminate the main area of the house and possibly disturb David or Nicole. Kimberley felt the wall for the switch. When her hand found it, she flicked it on. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, rubbing them for a moment, trying to let her pupils contract back to normal and dampen the amount of light coming in. Her eyes opened just a squint and there on the mirror written in blood, “Who’s the King now?”

Kimberley screamed, punching the mirror with an instinctual reflex. She looked down at her hand; it was pouring blood as clunks of glass shot out of her skin like needles from a cactus. She reached for the faucet to rinse the blood, but instead of water, more blood poured from the faucet. She quickly twisted the handle back to close the valve, but it wouldn’t stop. She tried to leave, get David to help with the plumbing emergency, but the door was locked from the other side. She screamed back into the pieces of the mirror that still hung in place, but two arms shot out and massive gloved hands squeezed Kimberley’s throat, the air immediately cut off mid scream. She looked closer and there he was; she could finally see him, after all these years. The light began to fade from her eyes and the room went dark, no oxygen getting to her brain. This was finally it. Kimberley made a last-ditch effort and dove forward into the mirror, her face just about to make contact with whatever was on the other side—

“NO!” Kimberley yelled out loud, sitting up in her bed. Her breath was ragged. Her heart raced. Sweat was dripping from her forehead and the sheets were damp where her body had been lying. Fuck, it was just a dream. She held her breath, listening for her daughter, and when she heard her soft breathing, Kimberley exhaled a sigh of relief. She laid back down in bed, pulling the covers up around her.

25

Dressed in her uniform with her tote bag over her shoulder, Kimberley carried Jessica out to the kitchen, setting her in her highchair. Nicole was already up, sipping on a cup of coffee while slicing up a banana. She was sure the banana was for Jessica because Kimberley still had yet to see her mother consume anything substantial. It seemed something was eating at Nicole.

Nicole placed half of the cut-up banana on a plate and put it on Jessica’s tray. “Good morning, sweetie,” she said, pinching at her cheeks.

“Nana,” Jessica said all smiley and sleepy while she put a piece of