Two Girls Down(106)

Vega felt a trickle of liquid on her brow. She wanted badly to touch it, to see if the cut had started bleeding again. Don’t do it, she told herself. This is not your body.



“They put everything online, teenagers,” Mrs. Linsom said, shaking her head. “I’m not planning on letting Cole have her own social media accounts unless I create all her passwords so I can monitor what she posts. It’s just not safe.”

She shook her head again, eyes momentarily fearful.

“Where’s your husband, Mrs. Linsom?” said Vega.

Vega put one hand on the grip of the Springfield, no longer attempting to hide it, pushing back the flap of her jacket so Mrs. Linsom could see it.

Mrs. Linsom saw it but seemed just a little concerned, her light eyebrows barely creased.

“You know, he’s not always like that, how he was when you met him the other day. Only when he’s under a lot of stress and not able to relieve it.”

“Where is he right now?” said Vega again, placing her hand on the grip.

“He went to find you, Mr. Caplan,” said Mrs. Linsom. “To talk man-to-man. Father to father. He’s been at your adorable house on Pixley Road for a couple of hours now.”

Vega drew the Springfield, pointed it at Mrs. Linsom’s left eye as Cap stumbled back two or three steps, losing his balance.

“Pick up your phone, call your husband,” said Vega, steady. “You can tell him I will shoot you in the head if he touches her. If he has already touched her, I’ll shoot you anyway. The only way you won’t end up getting shot is if he hasn’t touched her yet. So you’d best hope for that.”

Vega angled her chin in Cap’s direction.

“Caplan, move. Go.”

She didn’t turn but watched the shape of him run from the room, heard the door slam, his steps on the path outside.

Mrs. Linsom kept her eyes on Vega, not the gun, which was rare. People tended to stare at the barrel when it was pointed at them. Mrs. Linsom seemed mostly indifferent toward it.

“You can’t shoot me,” she said plainly. “You want to know what’s happened to Kylie, don’t you? You can’t know that if I’m dead.”



Vega took three steps closer, keeping the Springfield aimed at her eye socket. Now Mrs. Linsom watched the gun.

“Not real concerned about it,” said Vega. “Call your husband.”

Mrs. Linsom blinked slowly and brought her gaze back up to Vega’s.

“Even if I called, Press wouldn’t pick up right now,” she said.

Focus, said Perry in her head. If Nell’s dead she’s already dead. She’s not the body you’re supposed to bring home. One thing and then another.

“So tell me where Kylie is, and we can get this over with,” said Vega, very quiet.

Mrs. Linsom rolled her shoulders back.

“It’s not as if I can run away from you, Miss Vega; you don’t have to keep the gun on me.”

“I’d prefer to,” said Vega.

She was so close she could see the light glint off the small diamond studs in Mrs. Linsom’s ears.

“Well, then,” she said, lifting her chin, looking just above the gun, like she was peering over a hedge. “Like I said, none of this was planned. The first time was an accident, really. I’d been married to Press for five years before he told me. I remember the day too—it was when we got home from the twenty-week sonogram, when we found out Cole was a girl.”

She looked drunk with the joy of the memory, smiling broadly. Then, suddenly, the smile evaporated, and she continued.

“When we got home, he told me that sometimes he had these feelings, urges he was ashamed of. And he was afraid that eventually he might not be able to control them, now that he knew we were having a girl.”

Vega started to feel the sweat between her fingers, on her palms. She didn’t move, didn’t want to give the impression the gun could slip.

“I told him he was the strongest man I’d ever met, and together, he and I could beat this,” said Mrs. Linsom, looking proud and weathered by her suffering. “Then, when Cole was five—we lived in Hershey then—one night Press came to me and broke down. Said he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t think he could fight it anymore. He wept in my lap. Can you imagine?” she said to Vega. “Can you imagine what it took for him to admit that? A man like that?” she said, awe in her voice.



Vega didn’t answer. Kept the gun steady on the left eye.

“I told him we’d figure something out, but, honestly, I didn’t know what I was going to do. And then, this is where fate came in,” she said, excited to share her story, like they were two girls chatting over lattes. “The very next day we were on our way back from the pool, and there was Ashley in the parking lot. I guess she’d gone to the vending machines and gotten turned around. She knew us from ballet class, and I was like a celebrity to those girls, the piano player, Mrs. L, they called me. And she…”

She paused, touched her finger to her lips, eyes distant.

“She asked to come over. She asked,” said Mrs. Linsom in disbelief. “So she came with us. At home she and Cole played for a while, and then they both fell asleep. By then Ashley’s parents were calling everyone they knew. They hadn’t called the police yet. No one had seen her get into my car. And I thought—can it be this easy?”