Page 42 of The Drowned Woman
“Why’d you stand there?” she asked Nate in a low tone as Ruby stirred the flavor packet into the chili. Emily liked how Daddy cooked better—he let her decide which spices to try so every time it was like a new experiment. Daddy always said to start with “why” when approaching a problem. “Why’d you let them throw those balls at you and call you those names?”
Nate shrugged. “Got called worse back home. Your mom gonna let us sleep in our fort? We don’t have to tear it down?”
“Why not? It’s not hurting anyone.”
His eyes grew wide. “Never got to do anything like that back in foster. Everything had to be cleaned up before bedtime.”
“How’re we going to get your great-great’s medal back?” Emily said it only to be polite—she already had a plan. And now that she understood Nate’s why—he was afraid of speaking up and being sent back to Baltimore or foster where people treated him even worse than the Homans did. She couldn’t ask the grownups for help; it was just her and Nate. When Nate shrugged, she continued, “You know Billy and Jimmy’s house is just through the woods? There’s a path down the mountain they come four-wheeling on. Ruby was swearing at them for tearing up the far lavender field, said she’d get a shotgun and shoot them next time.”
“No, sir.” He shook his head. “We’re not gonna shoot anyone. I can’t afford any trouble. They want the medal so bad, they can have it.”
“Won’t Pops and Luka be mad that you lost it? That could get you in trouble, too.” Besides, it was just wrong, the Homans taking Nate’s medal. Emily couldn’t stand by and let that happen.
He considered that, gulping down his own glass of Quik, leaving a milky brown mustache in its wake. Emily took another drink, so now they matched. It was one of the good things about having a friend; you didn’t have to be different all alone.
“What’s your plan?” Nate asked, dropping his voice to a whisper. He gave Ruby a sidelong look, but she was humming to herself and dancing in front of the stove as she stirred the chili.
“The rain is supposed to stop tonight—my phone told me. It has maps on it, too, so we don’t get lost.”
He paused as he thought, then gave a slow nod. “We need a compass. Pops has one.”
“So did Nellie—I found an old one in one of the trunks in the attic. Do you know how to use it?”
“Yeah, kind of. Pops showed me.” From his tone, she could tell he was starting to get excited by the idea.
“So tomorrow we go over there and we get your great-great’s medal back. Then we bring it home and we’ll be heroes. Maybe my mom will even let us have ice cream. Or we can walk from the Homans’ farm over to Jericho Fields—the map says it’s not far. We could surprise your Pops, show him how you used the compass.”
Then everyone would know how brave they’d been, facing the Homans. It didn’t make up for what happened last month, when she’d been too scared to help Daddy, but maybe it was a start. She needed to do something to get rid of this constant, awful feeling inside.
Nate considered. “Sure we won’t get into trouble?”
Emily shook her head vigorously. “No. Just you see. We’re going to be heroes.”
Just like her daddy was a hero. Brave and strong.
Twenty-Five
Leah was tempted to head home. It had been an exhausting day—and she still needed to deal with Emily and what had happened at school. But she’d also promised to talk to Risa about Risa’s medical problems, so she took the elevator back up to Risa’s apartment.
As the elevator made its slow ascent, Leah wondered again about Risa’s illness. Her test results didn’t fit any one diagnosis, but if Cliff was her stalker, could he also be causing Risa’s symptoms? If he had access to Risa’s apartment, maybe he had tampered with her food, was poisoning her? A thrill ran through her at the idea that she could maybe solve the mystery and help both Risa with her symptoms and Luka with proving that Cliff was the killer. That would keep his bosses from coming down hard on him, right?
When she reached Risa’s apartment the door was ajar and Harper was standing outside it, where she could still hear everything happening inside as she spoke on her phone. It sounded as if she were arranging for the search of Risa’s apartment for surveillance devices. She jerked her head at the door indicating it was okay for Leah to enter.
Inside, Leah found Jack in the kitchen chopping herbs with an agitated pounding motion while Dom and Risa huddled over Risa’s computer. The smoke detector in the living room was down, its parts strewn over the coffee table.
“We think we found him,” Risa announced when Leah approached. “The landscaper. His name was Miguel Rivera and he went missing last year, body never found.”
“How do you know it’s him?” Leah asked, startled by their excitement. They’d all just discovered that Risa’s stalker had at the very least killed Cherise—and that he’d been watching Risa’s every move—yet Dom and Risa were so calm, focused on their own investigation.
“The clues in the letter Chaos sent,” Dom answered. He stopped himself. “Or is ‘Chaos Killer’ better, do you think? Maybe The Chaos Killer for the title and simply call him Chaos. Oh, yes, I rather like that.” He sat back, his obvious pleasure at successfully branding a serial killer taking Leah aback.
“Ignore him,” Risa said with a smile. “I gave all the details we’ve found to Detective Harper; she’s checking with the Indiana police department. If I’m right—”
“We’re right,” Dom corrected.
“Leah, you staying for dinner?” Jack called from the kitchen.
“No, no thank you.”
