Crying could be heard off camera. Jack turned toward the noise and pointed. “Someone please help Ms. Swenson.”
The camera repositioned, showing Tiffany visibly distraught, rocking back and forth on her heels. Although her burned hands covered her face, her sobs could still be heard.
“Our office,” Jack continued, as the camera swung back to him, “was also able to find footage of a man boarding the same vessel earlier that morning. He carried a duffle bag and wore a black ball cap and dark sunglasses. If anyone saw this man or knows of his identity, you are asked to contact the number on the bottom of your screen. This man is thought to be the Painted Beauty Killer.”
Jack folded his papers and placed them in the inside pocket of his suit. “We will not rest until the killer has been brought to justice. Thank you.”
The newscast immediately went back to the studio and Jim Day.
“Well,” Sin said, “could you recognize Joel from those pictures?”
“I couldn’t be certain,” Ashley said.
“Well, we’ll know soon enough,” Sin nodded. “Garcia, let’s get moving. Fletch should almost be in position.”
57
Fletcher waited behind the mortuary building for a signal from Sin. He hadn’t been there long when his smartphone started to vibrate. It was time to make his move.
He stayed low and ran, with gun drawn, to the spot where Garcia had instructed. He holstered his semiautomatic and grabbed hold of the first floor windowsill. The plan was for him to make his way to the fire escape and wait. As soon as Ashley started making a fuss, he would climb to the roof and again wait.
Climbing up onto the first sill and holding onto the ledge with his fingertips, he just hoped his strength held out.
Ashley white-knuckled the steering wheel as she pulled off of Crandon Ave. Pulling up to the main gates of the Academy, she suddenly stopped. “There is a big chain and padlock on the gates.” Her voice cracked with each word.
“Calm down,” Sin said from the floorboard of the back seat. Back up as far as you can without getting us killed and ram the gates. That chain won’t stop a three thousand pound car.”
Ashley backed up onto Crandon Ave, slammed her foot on the gas, and crashed through the locked gates. She picked up more speed and blared the horn as she drove up the long, winding entrance. Continuing to drive even when the driveway ended, she finally screeched to a halt at the base of the steps leading up to the once magnificent entrance. She threw open the driver’s side door, stood, and screamed toward the building.
“Joel! I know you are here and I know you have George. I’m coming up.” She lowered the ferocity of her voice, “Please don’t do anything rash until we talk.”
She walked behind the car, popped the trunk, and removed the painting. “We need to talk about this,” she yelled, holding up the painting. “It’s amazing. You have so much talent. I want to help you, so everyone will know how talented you are.”
With the painting in hand, she walked up the stairs and into the building.
The windows had been boarded up, so the hallways and stairwell were dark, but it didn’t matter. Ashley could have navigated them blind. Finding her way to the stairwell was easy. Making herself climb the stairs was not.
She remembered being dragged up those stairs late at night by Miranda, long after curfew. She cried the entire way up the five flights of stairs. Art class, Miranda had called it as she picked up a switch and an artisan blade. Her own mother forced her to stand in front of a mirror and disrobe. With every article of clothing that dropped to the floor, Miranda told her what was wrong with the way she looked.
“Your skin is too pale! Your fingers are too stubby! Your teeth are too crooked!”
Ashley shook her head, and the memories from it. My God, I was only seven, she thought. The day that witch died was the happiest day of my life. Maybe the only happy day.
With a fierce determination, Ashley bounded up the stairs, talking the entire time, “Joel, I know where you are hiding. You are in the art room. Do you want to know how I know?” She waited for a response, but kept climbing. When she didn’t receive one, she continued, “I know because you weren’t the only one Miranda punished. George and I were hurt by her, too. That’s why George went to visit you. Joel, he went because he understands your pain. We both do, and we want to help.”
Sin and Garcia waited until Ashley was inside the school before slithering their way out of the car. They had made their way to the bottom of the stairs and could hear Ashley a landing or two above them. They tried to time their steps in unison with Ashley’s so that Joel would only hear one person within the stairwell.
“Joel,” Ashley continued, “I’m sorry that we never came to visit you after we all left Water’s Edge.”
By the time she had reached the fourth floor, Ashley wasn’t sure if she could continue. She hadn’t received any response from Joel, and she started to wonder if she was even right; maybe Joel wasn’t there.
Taking a deep breath and reasserting herself, she yelled. “Joel, I have some great news,” she said trying to sound enthused. “News that changes all of our lives for
