“I think I do,” she said. “I’ve never talked about it. Not with boyfriends, friends, therapists-even my father. I wouldn’t. But the truth is that I don’t remember much else. There was blood everywhere. I don’t know why I hadn’t seen it when I walked in. I know I screamed. I screamed for days, it felt like. He’s coming back, I kept thinking. He’s coming back for you. I went to the phone and somehow there was blood on my hand. I thought it was mine, I didn’t know…”
She stopped and took a long breath.
“I made the call, but didn’t see it,” she said.
“See what?” he asked gently, when she stopped again.
“The note,” she said calmly.
“Lord Halloween’s calling card,” he said, mostly to himself.
“Yes,” she replied. “But I didn’t know that. How could I? My parents had kept any news of the murders as far away from me as they could. I didn’t know what I was looking at. I can still see it in my mind. I’m scared out of my mind, dialing 911 and there’s this post-it note stuck right by the phone. I didn’t even think about it. I was screaming into the phone to the operator and then I read it.”
She stopped again and Quinn felt compelled to ask.
“What did it say?”
She looked at him.
“It said, ‘ Happy Halloween. Your father can’t protect you and you are now on my list. Like mother, like daughter. See you soon, Trina.’”
“My God,” he said again.
“He even knew her name for me,” Kate said. “I still don’t know how he knew that. She was the only one who called me that. Everyone else called me Kate, but my full name is Katrina, and she said Trina.”
“What did you do?” he asked.
“I screamed some more,” she said. “The operator had no idea what was going on, but they sent the police. I didn’t wait for them though. I was certain he had come back in, that he had been waiting for me to find the note. Even then, with my mom’s body a few feet away, I started thinking in terms of my own survival. The police found my mother with little difficulty. But it wasn’t until one of them checked the attic later that they found me. When the cop came up, I felt certain it was him. I started screaming as soon as he saw me and it took my father picking me up before I stopped.”
“Jesus,” Quinn said.
“My whole world shattered,” she said. “I sometimes wonder who I would have been if that day had never happened. I see her sometimes-in my mind-this different woman who thinks about a career and a life. But you never know, do you? It wasn’t just my mom’s murder, of course. That would have been enough. ‘See you soon, Trina.’ That was what did it.
“We left town days later. My dad was a cop. He knew the force would be out there trying to avenge his wife. But he had a daughter to protect and I was beyond hysterical. He did not do a large funeral. He was too scared. His wife had been murdered and his daughter threatened-he slept by the side of my bed with his gun every night. By then we were at the Leesburg Hotel, checked in anonymously, of course.”
“You were worried the killer would find you?” Quinn felt like an idiot asking.
“I was not worried, Quinn,” she said. He noticed her clench her fists together and put them on her thighs. “No, I was certain. Certain he would find me. That it was just a matter of time. My father couldn’t convince me I was safe. The police could not convince me I was safe. Nothing could. I just saw the words ‘See you soon, Trina’ in my head. I have ever since.”
“Even when you moved away?”
“It helped,” she said. “It took time, but I felt like it worked. I had dreams of course-the most common of them was him standing behind me as I read the note. I feel his hands around me and then I wake up. But those dreams became fewer and fewer. I thought maybe some day I would be over it.”
“Then why…?”
“Why come back here?” she asked. She shook her head. “In October of last year, the dreams started up again. But they were more intense than ever. And they grew stranger.”
“Stranger?”
“I could hear my Mom calling me,” Kate said. “In the dreams, I would be walking around-at work at the paper even-and I would pick up the phone and she would be at the other end of it. ‘Trina, it’s time to come home,’ she would say. And I would argue with her, tell her I couldn’t go back. But I’d be afraid to tell her why.
‘Why can’t you come back, Trina?’ she would ask, over and over again. But I don’t want to tell her.
‘Is it because of me, Trina? Are you afraid, Trina?’ she’d say.
I tell her, ‘Please, Mom. ‘I’ve got work to do, he’ll find me. He’s waiting for me.’
‘He’s coming for you there, Trina,’ she says. And by then in the dream I’m already home, in her bedroom, and her voice is there, but the body is lying on the bed motionless.
‘He’s coming for you, Trina’ she says again. ‘He’s in the house.’
In the dream, I can see it, Quinn. The door is opening, he is coming through and walking up the steps. And I’m on the phone again, screaming for help. But it’s just my mom on the other end.
‘See you soon, Trina,’ she says.
And then her voice is gone. Another male one, much deeper, takes her place and I hear it and it makes me want to vomit.
‘Your father can’t protect you and I will find you,’ he says. ‘See you soon, Trina,’ And then he’s laughing. And I can see him coming down the hallway at the same time.
And then I wake up.”
Quinn shivered.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’ve had nightmares in my time, but that’s…”
“Horrible?” she asked. “I fought it off last year. The dreams kept coming, growing worse and more real every single day until Halloween came. I thought I was going crazy.”
“And then?”
“It stopped,” she said. “Just like that. November 1 came and it all ended. And I felt so relieved, like it was gone for good.”
“But it wasn’t…”
“No, it wasn’t,” she said. “It started sooner this time. It was August when it began. And I could feel it building in my brain. I just could not take it.”
“So you came here?” Quinn asked in disbelief.
“I had to, Quinn,” she said. “Something in my brain is telling me I needed to come back here. I don’t think it’s my Mom, but…”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t think it’s him either. Because in my dream, she tells me he is coming anyway and I think she is right.”
“That he is coming for you?”
“It doesn’t matter, Quinn,” she said and stood to face him. “I see him everywhere, in everything. Do you know what that is like? To live your whole life waiting for the bogeyman to show up? I have dreams where the post-it note is on my door. Whether he is coming or not, I have let this man shadow me for so long it doesn’t matter. I see him around every corner, in everything. He lives in my mind rent-free. I had to come back.”
“But what if he’s still here?” Quinn asked. “The murder the other day…”
“It wasn’t him,” she said. “Do you know I was actually sorry when he told me it wasn’t Lord Halloween?”
“Why?”
“Because it would mean it is time to face my fears,” she said. “I don’t want to be afraid of him anymore. I want to find him and be done with it.”
“But…”
“I know it’s not sane, but would you do anything different? I can’t keep living like this, or if I do, he’s killed me already. So I actually wanted it to be that bastard’s return. Then I could get busy and find out who he is.”
“And you’re sure it wasn’t?” he asked.
