The Sun Down Motel(57)

Nick. His father shooting his brother, then coming up the stairs as Nick jumped from the window.

“I’ll tell Nick you said hello,” I said.

Alma’s eyebrows went up. “Nick is back in town?”

Oh, shit. Was that supposed to be a secret? Don’t mention my name, Nick had said. I was such an idiot. “I guess so,” I hedged. “I met him at the Sun Down.” I put my notebook in my lap.

“Nick Harkness is staying at the Sun Down?”

“Just for a little while, I think.” Why hadn’t I kept my mouth shut? Nick wanted his privacy. Maybe he didn’t want it all over Fell that he was back. “He’s the one who gave me your name and suggested I talk to you.”

“Yeah, he’d remember me,” Alma said. “I dumped him in the drunk tank to sleep it off enough times.” She pushed her chair back. “He isn’t a person you want to get too close to, Carly. Take it from me.”

“He’s grown up now,” I said, even though I didn’t know Nick all that well. “He doesn’t get in trouble anymore.”

“Or so he says.” Alma looked at me thoughtfully. “You know, we could never prove anything, but I always wondered if Nick was really upstairs in his room like he said he was. Tell him I say hello.”





Fell, New York

November 1982





VIV


Without sleep, the nights were long. It felt like Viv lived in an endless stretch of darkness, punctuated only by fleeting daylight in which she dozed, her eyes restless behind her closed lids. Tonight she was at the Sun Down, sitting in the office alone. Her limbs ached and her eyes were half closed. She’d come in to find a single white envelope on the desk marked Paycheck—Janice’s only interaction with her employee.

What if I didn’t show up at all? Viv wondered to herself. Would anyone notice? Would Johnny tell anyone? How many nights could I simply not come to work before someone wondered where I was?

It was a lonely thought, and for a second she felt soft and bruised by it. She should call her mother sometime, maybe. Her sister. Try talking to her roommate, Jenny, again, even. How long had it been since she talked to someone? She rubbed her eyes and stretched her cramped legs beneath the desk.

There was no one at the motel tonight. Literally no one. For the first time since starting this job, Viv felt so empty and so achingly lonely she found herself near tears. She wished Jamie Blaknik would show up with his tousled hair and his strangely kind smile. She wished anyone would show up at all.

The phone rang, the noise loud in the silence. Viv picked it up. “Sun Down Motel, can I help you?”

“Viv, it’s Marnie.”

Tears stung the backs of Viv’s eyes at the sound of a familiar voice. She needed to get a grip on herself. “Marnie,” she managed.

“Yeah. Look, I was out on another job and I drove by your suspect’s house. His car is in the driveway and the windows are dark. Looks like he’s sound asleep.”

Viv sat up straighter, the loneliness dissipating. Marnie did this for her sometimes—followed the traveling salesman when Viv couldn’t. “Thanks.”

“I also talked to a cop I know on the Fell PD. I told him I’d met a girl who thought she might be Betty Graham’s cousin. I asked him if the cops think Betty and Cathy Caldwell could have been killed by the same man.”

“And?” Viv asked.

“He didn’t say much,” Marnie said. “He was tight-lipped about it. He said they’d looked at that and haven’t found any evidence. I have to be honest, Viv. The more I get into this, the more I think your theory is wrong. Those women didn’t know each other, didn’t travel in the same circles. Betty was a spinster teacher and Cathy was a married mom. My contact wouldn’t even talk to me about Victoria Lee, because her case is closed. And Cathy’s injuries were different from Betty’s. Very different.”

“Tell me what Betty’s injuries were,” Viv said. “I know you know. The papers wouldn’t say.”

She heard Marnie sigh. “This is just cop talk. But Betty had a lot of bruises. Like she fought hard. And she was raped.”

Violated, Viv thought.

“Cathy was raped, too, and Victoria wasn’t,” Marnie said. “You see what I mean. It’s too random. And this salesman—I’ve never seen him do anything except go to work and back. You’re barking up the wrong tree, honey.”

“He might hunt them all differently,” Viv said. “It’s how he works. He likes it. But you’re right, he finds them somehow. There has to be a connection.”

“Jesus, you’re obsessed,” Marnie said. “I worry about you. You spend too much time alone at night. You need a boyfriend, bad.”

Viv laughed. “Do you have one?”

“Always. I don’t need a man, but I like one. They come in handy sometimes. You should try it. Leave behind all this darkness-and-death stuff. It’s no good for you. Never mind the fact that you could get yourself killed.”

“I’ll be careful,” Viv said.

“You better,” Marnie said. “If something happens to you, whoever does it is going to have to deal with me.”



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