Tess woke with a start, sitting up straight, her heart racing, a cold sweat covering her body. It was still pitch black out, and Michael was asleep beside her.
She covered her mouth with a hand to stifle her sob. Beside her, Michael woke and sat up, turning on the light on the bedside table.
"Hey," he said and took her in his arms. "It's okay. You're okay."
She lay back down with his arms around her.
"More nightmares?" he asked and stroked her shoulder.
Tess nodded, not speaking, trying to catch her breath.
Michael pulled her closer into his embrace. "What was it this time?"
Tess couldn't reply. Her mouth was dry and the image of Eugene with the goggles was still vivid in her mind's eye. Finally, she cleared her throat.
"The same ones, over and over."
He squeezed her. "You should get counseling. What you did was so brave, but anything traumatic like that will leave a mark on you."
Tess knew he was right. Of all people, he would understand. "I will," she replied and gave Michael a faint smile. "How's your therapy going? He actually hurt you."
"He hurt you, Tess," Michael said. "Don't deny it."
She nodded, remembering him hitting her from behind, then biting her mouth when he stood over her. The memories made her shudder. But it wasn't the physical wounds he caused that haunted her. It was the dark threat she felt being in that pit with Elena, waiting for him to return. By then, she knew exactly what he was and what he did. What he'd most likely do to her, too. The physical wounds were already healed, just faint scars on her lip, on her wrists and ankles, and on the back of her head.
The emotional wounds would take much longer to heal.
"As for me," Michael said and held up his left fist, pumping it in the air. "I'm great. On one side of my body, that is. Besides, not all wounds are visible." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully.
"You have PTSD, too," Tess said softly. "You had to quit."
"We're a pair," Michael said and kissed her gently. "I can still work, but just not as a special agent. I won't do any work that might require I defend myself. Just investigations. While I can shoot with my left hand, that's about all I can do. And not very well, either."
"It's good that you're getting to work cases," she said and finally smiled. "Even if it is freelance and contract work. I'll have to get over this if I want to work with the FBI."
"You will," Michael said and pulled her more tightly against him with his good arm. "You're strong. The nightmares will stop, eventually. Besides, it'll be a year before you even know for sure whether you get into the FBI. You have time."
"Will the memories ever stop just popping into my head?" Tess asked, feeling exhausted.
"They will. I saw Colin's little body for months afterwards. I still do, but now, I'm able to distract myself before it gets too bad. You'll learn how, too."
"I hope so."
Michael reached over and turned off the light, casting the room back into darkness.
Tess sighed, snuggling beside him for an extra moment or two. It was Monday, and soon, she needed to get up and go to work. But for now, she found comfort in his arms.
The next time Tess woke up, it was to the scent of coffee brewing in the kitchen. Usually, she needed the blazing noise of an alarm clock to wake her in the mornings, but when she glanced over to it, she saw it was well past her usual time to wake. Michael was already up and had gone for a run without her. He'd showered and was now in the kitchen, making coffee. She felt lazy in comparison, the bad night of interrupted sleep making her still groggy.
She had a quick shower and dressed, wishing she was more ambitious and had woken early enough to get in a run like Michael. If she wanted to join the FBI, she'd have to get into better shape. She and Michael had been running together every morning in an effort to build up her endurance, and for Michael to fully recover from his own ordeal, but he'd let her sleep in, no doubt because of her nightmares the previous night.
"You should have woken me," she said when she got to the kitchen and took the thermos of coffee that he'd fixed for her.
"You needed your sleep," he replied and leaned against the kitchen island. "You're handing in your latest article today, right?"
Tess nodded, her mind leaving the nightmare and turning to the real-life horror she covered for the Sentinel. The serial killer from Paradise Hill. Eugene Hammond aka Eugene Kincaid. That's how she thought of Eugene -- not really a Hammond, although he had been raised by Joe and his wife. Eugene was more like his sick depraved biological father than his adoptive father or his biological mother. Poor Allison. She never had a chance. Even now, people were suggesting that the police re-examine the ME's report, wondering if Daryl Kincaid had been responsible for her death after all.
Pornographers, drug dealers, abductors, rapists and murderers. That was the Kincaid family. Tess's research had turned over a lot of stones and all the creepy crawlies had scrambled around in search of more darkness.
"I have a few more edits to do but yes. I'm meeting with Kate this afternoon and will turn in the latest installment."
"Good," Michael said. "I think it's very well-written and compelling. You really nailed Eugene. You've got good insight. Have you considered writing a true crime book based on the case?"
Tess shrugged. "Maybe. Once I'm done with the series."
She wanted to get the articles finished and published in the Sentinel, fulfilling her end of the bargain she'd struck with Kate when she went home to Paradise Hill the previous fall. It would be a while before the series of articles were completed. She planned on covering the trials but applying for the FBI might interfere with that. Maybe she'd receive the offer to join the FBI. Maybe she'd stay working as a crime reporter. At that point in her life, Tess was uncertain.
Sure, she had been able to shoot Eugene and prevent him from killing them all. It had been a lucky break that Michael had arrived when he did and shone the light in the forest where they were. It was lucky that she was close enough to kick the gun out of Eugene’s hand and then take it, shooting him in both shoulders. It could have gone the other way.
She knew that.
"Well, I'm off," she said and grabbed the bagel Michael handed her. "Early meeting."
"Have a good day," he said and pulled her against him for a quick kiss. "Text me if you want to go out for supper and celebrate."
"I will." She grabbed her coat and bag, waving to him as she closed the door to their apartment.
Tess sat at her desk in the newsroom and worked on her article.
She'd been deep into the story, her mind focused, but was dragged away by a news report that appeared on one of the screens across from her desk and by one image in particular. She recognized the man in the photo next to a caption which read, Local Man Questioned in Missing Persons Case.
Craig Lang, a work friend of hers, and a freelance photographer who often worked for the Sentinel.
On the screen was a video of a small car with both its doors open, parked off a dirt road in the middle of the forest. Tess went over to the screen and took hold of the remote, turning up the volume.
Craig had a lot of contracts with the paper and was a regular face at staff parties. One of Tess's closer friends at the paper, they had worked on a number of stories together. She met his girlfriend and interviewed her for her article on missing and murdered women and girls.
Craig was what Tess's mother would call an 'odd duck' but Tess suspected he had Asperger's Syndrome. He didn't make eye contact when he spoke with people and averted his eyes, looking at the floor or strangely, the ceiling when he spoke with you. Only occasionally would he actually meet your gaze and only when asking a direct question. Behind the camera, however, he seemed unafraid and unselfconscious. Perhaps it provided a distance between him and the other person that he needed to feel comfortable.
The other writers and staff stopped what they were doing and crowded around Tess, watching the news report.
"Hey, that's Craig," Jenna, an admin said. She turned and glanced at Tess as if waiting for some explanation. Tess tried to ignore the expression of gloating on the woman's face.
Jenna turned to the other workers. "It's Craig. The photographer. You know -- weird Craig."
Tess frowned and turned up the volume, wishing the other staff would keep quiet while the news report was on. According to the reporter, Craig's girlfriend Rachel Martin and her young daughter Sadie had gone on vacation more than a week earlier. Craig hadn't told anyone, but the previous night her car had been found abandoned in the mountains near Mt. Baker, the door still open, the keys in the ignition. Police had no suspect, but it didn't look good for Craig. Next of kin and intimate partners were often guilty in these kinds of disappearances, and so he would be a prime suspect.
"Do you think he did it?" Jenna asked, her eyes wide. "I always thought he was strange. Never looked you in the eye."
"He has Asperger's," Tess said defensively. "They have problems making eye contact and small talk."
"The report said he was a person of interest in the investigation," Jenna replied, her tone sounding like she was pleased. Tess knew that from now on, Craig's guilt or innocence would be the only topic of conversation at work, around the water cooler, and in the staff room. It irritated her. She just couldn't believe Craig was a killer. He seemed sweet to her. Harmless.
Of course, she hadn't suspected Eugene, either.
Tall and lanky with fair hair and green eyes, Craig seemed awkward in any social situation, but he disappeared behind the lens. His photos were good. Really intimate. Maybe, taking pictures was a way for him to connect with people without actually having to interact with them.
Whatever the case, Tess hadn't spoken with Craig since she returned from Paradise Hill. The last time they'd seen each other was when they'd gone to interview some witnesses to a shooting in Seattle's red-light district. Craig had tagged along, camera in hand, and photographed a few of the street people Tess spoke with. They'd been together a lot on the Missing Women and Girls project, and he had been the main photographer since she'd started working at the Sentinel.
Tess liked Craig. She even felt affection for him and Rachel. A wisp of a woman, Rachel was short, fair and frail-looking. Sweet. She'd had a hard childhood, had run away from an abusive home, and had a child at thirteen.
Father's identity unknown.
Tess listened to the reporter go over the details of the missing persons case. Rachel was just twenty-one to Craig's twenty-eight years old. Her daughter Sadie was eight.
Rachel had lived in a Catholic shelter for a while, had been an addict at one time and lived on the streets, but she had been lucky to have a good foster family who raised Sadie while she got clean. The reporter spoke with the foster mother, an older woman with short steel-gray hair, who shook her head sadly.
"I don't know why he didn't tell any of us she was gone. She was obviously abducted and taken to the forest. Who knows where they are now?"
Tess turned the volume down once the news report was finished and went back to her desk, frowning. Had Craig killed the woman and her daughter and hid the bodies somewhere in the forest?
Tess couldn't believe it, but many people were capable of much more than she imagined. She didn't suspect Eugene until the end.
Killers seemed like everyone else, which made her shiver. It meant that pretty much anyone could be a killer...
Later that afternoon, Tess sat in Kate's office while the older woman read over the article Tess had written about the missing persons case.
"We're all still pretty shocked," Kate said, examining the copy she held in her hand. "Craig's such a quiet man. So pleasant. You'd never suspect him of, well, anything. But everyone's insinuating that he did it. I know that a lot of women are harmed by their significant others, but Craig? He's harmless."
Tess shrugged. "Unfortunately, most murders are committed by ordinary people in the heat of the moment. There are no red flags until it happens. Then, people go back over a person's life to find clues, but honestly, many of us have those clues in our lives and we don't go on to kill anyone."
"Most of us could kill, if we were in the right circumstances. If we felt our lives were threatened."
"Only a very few people do so in cold blood. They're fundamentally different from you or me. They're sociopaths and luckily, there aren't many of them around but there's enough. They cause all the mayhem in society."
"That's for sure. My sister in law is a bona-fide sociopath and she drives us all crazy with her lies and manipulation. A serious bullshit artist. I wish someone would have committed her years ago, but I guess there's no law against being downright nasty."
"No, there isn't," Tess said, putting down the article. "Have you spoken with Craig?"
"Not yet," Kate said and made a face. "He called in to Keith and asked for some time off to deal with things. I feel so bad but I'm kind of trying to avoid talking to him. I sent him an email and said we'd be sending a reporter around to talk to him about the case. This is a good start," Kate said and handed the story back to Tess. "See what else you can dig up. Talk to Craig, talk to Rachel's boss, her foster family. Give me a picture of her and her daughter."
"I will," Tess replied, eager to dive back into her work. "I'll ask him for some background. See how he's doing."
"Ask that handsome boyfriend of yours for tips on the case, if you can."
Tess laughed. "He's pretty tight-lipped when it comes to his work, due to privacy considerations, but I'm sure he'd offer me advice on how to think about the case."
"Every little bit helps," Kate said and closed the file. "Let me know when you have anything else you want me to read."
"I will," Tess said and stood up to leave. "How did you like my latest piece on Paradise Hill?"
"It's good," Karen said and waved her hand. "Of course, it's good. You're part of the story. It's really gripping as a result."
Tess nodded. "I know that journalists aren't supposed to become part of the story, but in my case, I couldn't exactly help it."
"It makes it more compelling to know your personal connection to one of the victims and to the serial killer. You guys had no idea that he was a psychopath?"
"None," Tess replied, sighing heavily. "I never really knew him because he was so much older than us when I lived in Paradise Hill, and then when he married my best friend, I was living in Seattle. I only met him a few times. He seemed really nice."
"He was a lot older than your friend, though. No one thought that was weird?"
"I think once Kirsten got pregnant, all anyone cared about was her getting married and becoming more respectable."
"Typical small-town thinking. If she was my child, she would have had an abortion and the guy would have been charged with statutory rape."
"Well, she had two really great kids with him. So, there's that. She was happy for a while."
"But still. Won't her kids inherit his bad genes? Isn't psychopathy hereditary? How on earth will those poor children feel, growing up knowing their father was a serial killer? What would that do to a growing child? They'll be scarred for life."
Tess felt a wave of sadness at the prospect of Kirsten's boys facing the truth about their father. Eugene always seemed like such a devoted father from what she'd heard, but of course, it was all just show. Eugene knew how to act to make people think he was just an ordinary Joe, but he didn't feel any of it.
"There are some genes that are linked to anti-social personality disorder but usually, you need a history of abuse to see psychopathy develop. In this case, Eugene was abused and neglected right from birth. Probably was exposed prenatally to drugs and alcohol. His mother was young when she conceived him and died of a drug overdose when he was just a little boy. He was used in a pedophile porn ring for years without his adoptive parents knowing. Whenever they let him visit his uncle John Hammond, he was abused."
"God," Kate said and shook her head in disgust. "It makes me sick."
"Me, too," Tess said. "But he still had a choice. He chose to kill all those girls. He planned it out and carried through with those plans. Some of them were months in the making, so he knew exactly what he was doing and had self-control. He even killed Elena's father in order to provide an excuse for Elena going missing. Who knows how many others he killed?"
"Your final articles will cover the trial, once it happens. If you're still with the Sentinel."
Tess nodded. "I'll look forward to attending the trial, but it may be a long way off."
"Of course, you may be with the FBI by the time his trial date comes around. I hate to lose you, but I understand your desire to join the Bureau. How exciting!"
Tess smiled, a surge of adrenaline in her gut at the thought she might become an FBI Special Agent. "I have to get in a lot better shape before I'll get in. Michael and I started running together every morning. I need to practice doing pull-ups and get in shape generally. Sitting at a desk isn't the most conducive to fitness."
"You'll do fine. If you really want this, you'll put in the time."
"I will," Tess said and picked up her file. "I'll leave you to your meeting."
"Thanks for dropping by. Keep me up to date with any developments in Craig's case. Let's hope his girlfriend and her daughter turn up safe but given the dried blood on the steering column near the ignition, I doubt it."
Tess stood and went to the door. "I hope so, but I suspect you're right."
She left Kate's office and went back to the main newsroom, sitting back at her desk, staring at the article in front of her about Craig and the missing persons cases. Rachel Martin and her daughter Sadie.
God, she hoped he wasn't guilty...