“Aren’t you? You wrote the story.”
“I don’t know, Kate,” Quinn said. “The police confirmed it all, very easily. But…”
She waited for him.
“I felt good about it yesterday,” he said. “But today, it felt wrong. Like they wanted me to write that story. I actually had a voicemail from Brown’s assistant telling me it was a good story. It feels wrong.”
“I don’t think my source would have lied to me,” Kate said, but she looked troubled.
“Are you positive?” he asked. “Because if he…”
“My father was a cop. They were on the force together. He and my parents were friends. I played with Julia, their daughter. Why would he lie to me about this? Of all things…”
“I don’t know,” Quinn said. “Maybe he didn’t.”
She sighed and pulled her jacket closer to her.
“I have to find him,” Kate said.
“If it’s true, and he’s still here, how do you know he won’t find you first?” Quinn asked.
She looked at him.
“Maybe he will,” she said. “But I’ve been looking over my shoulder for so long, I think I have a leg up. I’ll be ready.”
“If you wanted it to be him, and you’ve come back for that, why talk about leaving?” Quinn asked. “You said outside the office you were going to go. Why?”
“Things are so weird, Quinn,” she said.
“They weren’t already?” he responded.
“It’s different now,” she said. “I have dreams, but they aren’t like before. Sometimes my mom is in them, but then there are these symbols and a word that I don’t understand.”
“Maybe your dreams are just catching up with your location.”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “And there has been other stuff.”
She paused.
“Like?” he asked.
“I’ll tell you, but only because you can already tell I’m crazy.”
“You aren’t crazy,” he said, and put his hand on hers without thinking about it. “I don’t think that.”
She looked at him.
“Thank you,” she said.
“So what is the other stuff?”
“One of the very first days I was here, when you gave me a tour of the Chronicle, do you remember that?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said.
“When we were downstairs, near the printing press, I saw something,” she said. “I asked you and Janus about it.”
“I remember you pointing at the floor,” he said.
“But you saw nothing?”
“No, I didn’t see anything,” he replied.
“I saw something, Quinn,” she said. “Something that makes me worry I’m cracking up.”
“What?”
“There was blood,” she said. “There was a pool of blood all over that floor. I looked at my feet and it felt like I was walking in it. I could see it, shiny and deep red, so clearly. And you guys acted like it wasn’t there.”
“I didn’t see anything,” he replied.
“You see? That’s why I wanted to leave. Everything was so screwed up before and now that I’m here, it seems to be getting worse.”
“Did you see it again?”
“I haven’t been down there since,” she said. “I saw it as clear as day and then while I was talking to you, it disappeared. It’s stuff like that. The dreams, the blood, everything… The rational part of my brain keeps telling me to leave before I lose what is left of it.”
“Then why stay?”
“Because I think this guy is close, Quinn,” she said. “I feel it somehow. I know he will return. Maybe now or maybe next year. But he is still here and I have to find him.”
She stopped talking and looked back out across the pond. The wind drifted across it again, blowing her hair back. Her hands clenched the marble bench.
“You have to promise to keep this secret,” she said.
“Of course,” Quinn replied.
“I shouldn’t have even told you.”
“I think it’s about time you told someone,” he said. “You’ve been bottling this up for too long.”
“I know,” she said. “And I’m not going to leave. Whatever is going to happen, it finishes now, here. I’m through waiting for him to jump out of the shadows.”
“Look, I want you to stay, but…” Quinn said. “What if you are right? If this guy is back, this is the last place you should be. Particularly if he figures out who you are. Every bit of research on him shows he is one for the follow-through.”
“That’s why you have to help me, Quinn,” she said and gripped his hand. “You have to help me find him first.”
The stranger watched the two figures talking near the bench. He couldn’t tell if they were arguing or not, but they were certainly animated.
He wished he could hear what they were saying. The stranger sighed. Still, he was glad he had followed them out, if only to know for sure there was something going on between the two. He wondered what it meant.
Quinn and Kate, sitting in a tree, not quite K-I-S-S-I-N-G, he thought. He idly wondered which one he should kill first.
Patience, his brain said. Not too soon. You have to take your time, hone your skills.
But it would be so easy, he thought. He could even take one right now.
Patience, that voice in his head said again. Not too quick or they’ll connect you. The police are dumb, but they aren’t that dumb. Don’t be sloppy. You’ve waited so long.
Kate seemed familiar to him, the stranger thought. She claimed to have never been here before, but there was this strange odor of familiarity to her. It seemed like something on the tip of his tongue-but he couldn’t think of it.
Had he known someone named Kate Tassel? He thought about it a moment. He did not think he did.
Breaking his line of sight with them, he moved back through the cemetery toward the grave where they had been standing. They had not been there long, but the stranger wanted to see. It might help him.
He found it and recognized the name immediately.
“Sarah Blakely,” he said out loud, just to hear it.
He clapped his hands to his mouth to keep a laugh from coming. No, he didn’t know a Kate. But he did know a Trina, didn’t he? Yes, yes he did.
Everything made sense now. Her familiarity — even as a child, she had been stunning to look at. And her outburst. He should have known it then. But the last name had thrown him.
It will take more than a last name to hide from me, the stranger thought.
She was little Trina-dear Trina-whose Mom thought about her even while she was being gutted. She called out her name so many times.
He moved back into the line of trees at the back and carefully worked his way to see the couple now standing near the bench.
I have old business with you, Trina, he thought.
He watched as the two walked out of the cemetery together. He noticed they were holding hands. Yes, he was very glad he had followed them.
And this so easily solved the question of whom he would kill first.
“See you soon, Trina,” he said out loud as they disappeared around the bend. “See you real soon.”
