Abby was probably inside, watching TV with Jim, snuggled in his arms. Robin hoped that she was happy, finally moving on with her life. She didn’t want Abby to spend her life worrying about her.
“I am sorry, Abby,” Robin whispered. “I am sorry I wasn’t the older sister you wanted.”
She sat down on the wet grass just outside their window. Robin knew she should get a move on and that the police would be looking for her. They were probably keeping tabs at all the places familiar to her. They might even be watching her right now, and yet, she couldn’t move. Tired and exhausted from the constant running and hiding, Robin was consumed by the everlasting fear of being caught. She was mentally spent and weary from the lack of clues and the possibility that the killer would elude them again.
Robin didn’t know how much longer she could run or if she even had it in her anymore. Her bones ached, her stomach grumbled from lack of food, and her eyes burned from lack of sleep. She always had to be on her toes, sleeping with one eye open. It wasn’t just fear of the police; it was the fear of failing. Robin had no clues and no idea of what to do. “The killer was someone from her past, but where was he, and why was he doing this? How could she track someone so elusive?” None of it made any sense.
Robin hadn’t figured out what her next step was going to be. She was at a loss for ideas, and if she couldn’t stop this killer, he would continue killing, blaming it all on Robin. It was the perfect setup for a murder. After all, why would anyone look for him when they believe the killer to be someone else? If Robin couldn’t figure this out soon, women would keep on dying. Women who have done nothing wrong and whose only misfortune was to look like her.
The phone in her pocket vibrated, and Robin took it out. Kyle was calling her, probably worried and going crazy. The news must be reporting her appearance at the crime scene by now. Robin had no energy to even talk to him. She continued staring at the screen until it went dark again. She frowned at the reflection she could see on the dark phone screen, unable to believe it was her.
Her face was gaunt and thin, her black eyes surrounded by dark circles. Her lips chapped, and her hair twisted and matted together. The screen lit up again as Kyle’s number flashed across the screen. This time Robin answered the call.
“Kyle,” she said softly.
“Robin, where are you?” he asked, sounding anxious.
“At Abby’s,” she whispered.
“Damn, you need to get out of there,” he said. “They are looking for you. They are on high alert. All borders have been shut down, all highways are being patrolled, and they have gotten aerial support too. Why are you even there? Do you realize how dangerous this is?”
“I know,” Robin said, rubbing her eyes. “I am tired, Kyle.”
“I know,” he said, his voice softening. “But I need you back, Robin. We can figure something out together. Just don’t lose hope.”
“What then?” she asked. “We don’t know where to go from here. We have been stumbling in the dark, hoping we can find out something, but we haven’t. We know that there is no next step. The web around is too complex, too woven together. I don’t understand what to do anymore. I have never been this lost in my life. Even at the Butcher’s, I always had hope that I would figure out an escape. But what do I do now? What can I do, Kyle?”
“I know it seems gloomy,” he whispered. “I know it seems difficult. It’s not hopeless yet, Robin. I might have found something at the crime scene.”
“What?” Robin asked, shocked.
“One of my sources at the police station told me they finally found something,” Kyle said. “A ring of some kind. They will send me a picture soon.”
“I also found something,” Robin said, suddenly remembering the note.
“A message,” she said. “The killer had left in the candy shop. He knew I would know to look there.”
“Good,” Kyle said. “I doubt this was a mistake. He put those things there to lead us to something. He wants you to find him, Robin. He clearly wants your attention. This is all about you; it always has been. I think he wants you to figure out his past and track him down.”
“I will meet you under the bridge in twenty minutes,” Robin said, her mind racing. “We need to sort this out together. I am afraid our old hideaways are compromised.”
“I will see you there,” he said and hung up.
Robin took the note out from her pocket where she had stuffed it and wondered if this one also had a hidden message on it.
“You started your career by catching an escaped criminal, and you were instantly in the public eye. I believe you identified the place the killer was hiding by studying the dirt in the victims' shoes. Well, let’s play a game, shall we? Let’s see if you will manage to capture another killer today. I will wait for you.”
As Robin read the note, she paled. She remembered where it had happened. Before she could even register what the note meant,
