When she finally saw them, asleep in their beds, she burst into tears. She wanted to take them with her, but there was no time. She had to make a decision and she had to make it now.
Just then, a figure emerged from the shadows. She advanced on Kitty, her voice filled with scorn.
“You’re not taking these children anywhere,” she spat. “They’re my children.”
Kitty’s chest constricted with fear, but she refused to be intimidated. She backed up. And that’s when she saw it. The gun in Linda’s hand. She gasped and stared at it. Then she decided something. She bent forward, then ran headfirst into Linda’s stomach, clutching and protecting her belly, causing the gun to fall to the floor. And then they fought. Punches fell and Kitty received one on her chin that sent spasms of pain through her entire body, and several more on her cheeks and nose. She grunted in restraint, then grabbed the woman by the throat and used her weight to press her down.
“They’re my children,” she hissed, while tightening the grip on her throat and pressing. This was for all the years she had lost in that shed; this was for all the times Damian had raped her in there. And finally, this was for all the children they had taken from her, leaving her with only grief and sadness.
“This is for all you ever did to hurt me,” she whispered. “And for you letting it happen when you could have stopped it.”
Then she reached over, grabbed the gun from the floor, lifted it and fired. She shot her right in the forehead and, panting, Kitty stared at the hole in her head. She was fascinated by how easy it had been, and how small it was. Linda’s eyes stared empty at her, and her body became limp underneath her.
“What have I done?” she exclaimed, then rose to her feet. “What have I done?”
In desperation she opened the window and threw out the gun. The children had woken up with the sound of the gun going off, and they were staring at her, shaking in one another’s arms. She looked at them, and they looked at her.
“No, don’t cry,” she said. “I’m… I’m…”
But it was futile. The children had no idea who she was. They cried and shook, and then one of them screamed. Seconds later she heard the front door slam open, and she could hear someone enter, groaning loudly.
“Where are you?”
It was Damian.
Kitty knew she had to run, but she didn’t know where to go, and she couldn’t leave the children. She didn’t want to. Yet there was no other way. At least not for now. She would have to come back for them later.
The last thing she saw before dashing out the door were the children clinging to one another in fear. She stormed out the back door, hearing Damian growl as he hurried up the stairs. Then she ran. Against all odds, against the heaviness of her stomach and the pain stemming from the beginning of her contractions, she ran, and ran, and ran, through the dark of the night, the rain falling on her like little stars from the sky, and she didn’t stop until the wetness of her clothes had seeped into her skin.
Kitty looked around and realized she was surrounded by trees. She sat down on a log and looked at the night sky, her hand supporting her stomach, while the pain came and went. She sat there and listened to the sound of the tree frogs and cicadas. The sky seemed endless, even if it was covered in clouds, and the rain pouring nonstop on her face. It was a feeling and a sight she had only dreamed of for years.
“What have I done?” she gasped, and then closed her eyes, and wept. “I killed someone.”
Kitty took a deep breath and rose to her feet, regaining her strength. She let out a cry and ran like the wind, away from the madness and the fuss, she ran right out of her past.
She didn’t stop till she reached a small neighborhood, where she spotted a house, but more important, she noticed it had a small shed in the backyard. Feeling overwhelmed with weariness, she opened the gate and went inside the yard, then ran toward the shed and got inside. She collapsed on the floor, worn out by exhaustion.
Minutes later, she heard a noise by the door and lifted her head with a gasp.
A man. He was small and dark and looked at her with terror in his eyes.
“W-who are you?”
SEVENTY-THREEBILLIE ANN
The Chief sat in his study, his head bowed, as I paced back and forth before him, my words spilling out of me like a stream. He nodded occasionally, his expression attentive as I revealed my theory.
“Pete Perez told us that Marissa—or Kitty—as I believe her real name is, came to him, pregnant and in labor. He found her in the shed, and he helped her give birth to the baby, to Emma.”
I paused to see if he was still listening. He was. He nodded and said, “Interesting.”
I continued. “She ran away from her kidnappers, but couldn’t make it far, because she was, well, about to give birth. That’s why I think our killer and kidnapper is somewhere nearby, in our area.”
“That makes sense,” he said, leaning back in his chair.
“Pete then decides to help her out and lets her stay in the house that he owns that is currently vacant. She stays there and never gets farther away from where she was being kept. Now this is where it gets a little uncertain but hear me out. Maybe she stayed here, close to her kidnapper, because she had other children. I’m not sure about this one but think about it. Kitty was kidnapped fourteen years ago. She could have had more than one child in that time. Maybe she stays close in order to keep an eye on them, see them once in a while. I think… but I’m not sure, this will be another guess, but what if she became a prostitute? We heard there was a man coming to the house often. A neighbor told us so. Maybe he came to pick her up. Perhaps there was more than one. Maybe that’s how she made a living. You know, because she couldn’t get any other job. And she had been raped so many times that it was the only thing she knew how to do, sad as it is. We know for sure that she didn’t work at the hospital like she said. And she did work often at night. She definitely didn’t have any social security number, and no ID or even a bank account. It’s hard to find work without any of those things these days. She lived completely off the radar, and so did her child. Until the kidnapper found her. Whoever took Kitty back then on her way to school, he is the one we’re looking for. He killed the stepdad, Cole; he killed Cassandra Perez, who was Emma’s babysitter; he killed Bryan Henderson, Emma’s pediatrician. He killed Ashley because she was in the room with him when he killed Henderson, and she saw his face, or at least might be able to recognize him. He killed Alex Johnson because he was with Ashley, and he too probably saw who he was. He attacked Pete Perez and took a lock of his hair and planted it in the condo, so he would be a suspect, as he was connected to Cassandra, Emma, and Henderson now. And that brings me to the most important part that I realized just a few hours ago.”
Chief Doyle lifted his eyes and met mine. He looked tired. I didn’t care. I was on a roll here.
“And that being?”
I paused and collected my thoughts, then said, “He is one of ours.”
A frown grew between his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Think about it. The planting of the hair, the disappearance of Ashley’s belongings from the condo. And get this. You told me that someone matching Pete Perez’s description was seen outside of Alex Johnson’s house, but as I went back into the files, I couldn’t see any statement saying that. I believe it was a lie.”
Doyle was biting his lip while looking at me. “I don’t believe that. This is a little far out there for my taste.”
“I thought so at first, but then I went to talk to Kitty’s mom, and guess what?”
He sighed. “What?”
“The stepdad, Cole, had a good friend who came to the house often and who helped them start search parties for Kitty, and he took the lead in the search for her. And he was a police officer. Officer Damian was his name. She said he also knew Travis Walker, my old partner, and that’s why no one ever looked into him. Because he was police. Because he knew the head investigator.”
The Chief waited a few moments after I finished speaking, his eyes thoughtful as he seemed to contemplate my words in silence. I felt a thrill of anticipation shoot through me as he slowly lifted his gaze to meet mine.
“Very interesting,” he said, his voice heavy with the weight of his years. “You have a keen mind, and I must say I am very impressed.”
