The Bitter Season (Kovac and Liska, #5)(99)

She had a roof over her head at the Duffys’. She had people around her, and she had school. But Barbie Duffy was not a mother to her, and Evi had no real friends. She was shy by nature, and ashamed of being in foster care. People looked at her differently, treated her differently, like there must be something wrong with her, something contagious that made her unlovable, or something intrinsically broken and dirty that attracted the darkness in the souls of men.

None of them reached out to touch her heart. All of them reached out to touch her body—young or old; in anger, as if it was her fault they wanted her; or in the guise of something kinder, as if it was their duty. She took what was offered because anything was better than the emptiness inside her.

She hadn’t meant for bad things to happen. She had only wanted to be loved. She had only wanted to break the sense of feeling separate from everyone around her. She longed to feel she was a part of something, connected to someone. How could that be so wrong?

In the dream, everything was dark, all moonlit shapes and forms. Comfort came in secret. She grabbed it with both hands and held on. Hands and mouths and tangled legs, beating hearts and hot breath. But even in the attempt to connect to someone, she felt detached from her body, as if the essence of her being was just a tiny ball of energy trapped inside an empty shell. Frightened and confused, she held on tighter. She wanted something more, needed something she couldn’t name because she had never known it.

She had never meant to hurt anyone, but in the end she had destroyed everyone she cared about most. As if her heart were Pandora’s box: She had opened it and chaos had tumbled out like an avalanche, crushing everything in its path.

She had spent years in purgatory trying to pay for the damages. She was still paying on nights like this one, when she dreamed of sex and violence, and what her past could do to her present.

She woke up gasping for air, drenched in sweat, shaking, crying, dizzy, nauseated. She stumbled out of bed, tripping on the covers, and hurried into the bathroom to be sick. When her stomach was empty, she brushed her teeth and turned the shower on. Stripping her nightgown off and dropping it on the floor, she stepped under the water, gasping because it was still cold. She didn’t care. She needed to wash the sensation of the dream away, the sensation of being dirty and defiled and disgusted with herself. She lathered herself with soap and scrubbed her skin with a loofah until it hurt.

Afterward, she felt weak and shaky. She wrapped herself in a towel and sat on the edge of the tub, trying to pull herself together. She wished Eric were there, and at the same time was glad that he wasn’t. She didn’t like to burden him with the aftereffects of her past. He knew a lot about her life, and the things she had been through, but there were memories she had chosen not to share with him. Things that haunted her. Things she regretted even all these years later that, as much as he loved her, she feared he wouldn’t be able to understand or forgive. The prospect of losing him for the mistakes she made all those years ago was more than she could stand.

And yet, she knew there was no escape. Her past was part of who she was and who she had become. The past was like a stone thrown in a lake, the ripples going on and on and on. It was the ominous Other Shoe, and she felt the weight of it hovering over her, ready to crush her and all she held dear. And all she wanted to do was ignore it and hope that it would go away.

Detective Liska had called again and left a message saying she had a couple of additional questions. Evi hadn’t called her back.

She thought of Jennifer Duffy, who had been like a little sister to her for that brief time. She had wondered for a long time after leaving the Duffys what would become of Jennifer. How much did she know? How much had she understood? Detective Liska had said Jennifer struggled for years after, another casualty of the past. Evi’s heart ached for her.

My fault, she thought. She had only wanted what every child did, to be loved, and in the end she caused nothing but death. The death of a man, the death of innocence, the death of what might have grown into real love.

Needing to move, she got up, discarded her towel, and put on a fresh pair of pajamas. She left her room and went in to check on Mia. She always felt calmer looking at her daughter, her assurance that life went on and renewed itself with innocence. Evi felt a desperate need to keep her child that way: innocent and pure. Her mother hadn’t been strong enough to do that for her.

Mia slept the sleep of a much-loved child, sound and happy, snuggled with a favorite stuffed toy.

I can do this for you, Evi thought. She couldn’t go back and change the past, but she could ensure her daughter’s present and work for her future, and hope that that would make up for the choices she’d made so many years ago.

She went to the dormered window at the end of the room to look out at the night. The rain had subsided to a pea soup mix of mist and fog hanging low to the ground. The waxing moon played hide-and-seek behind black clouds scudding across the night sky.

She saw their faces in the moon, the face and expression changing every time a cloud slipped by—Ted Duffy, broken and defeated; Barbie Duffy, cold and bitter; Jeremy, tormented and brooding; Donald Nilsen, angry and full of hate . . .

The motion sensor security light above the back door clicked on, and Evi flinched, her heart jumping in her chest. She told herself it was probably a stray cat cutting through the yard. Once, over the summer, they had a family of raccoons visit. She scanned the yard from side to side. One of the swings on the swing set was moving. The wind?