In the Dark (45 page)

 

Tish wiped her mouth. “Stop this!”

 

“Finn watched us make love in his bed that night. I knew he was there. But the next day, he went and told Laura what happened in Fargo. It was our secret, his and mine. He had no right to tell her. He just wanted to split us apart. To scare her away.”

 

Rikke’s face was black. Horror descended on it like a shadow off the bridge.

 

“Finn never told Laura that I did it for him. For him! I knew what our mother was doing. I had to put a stop to it, and I knew Finn would never lift a finger to protect himself. He just crawled into his little hole and let her keep coming back for more. So I was the one who had to be strong. I was the one who had to save him.”

 

If Dad were abusing me, could you kill him? Do you have to be insane to do it?

 

Tish finally understood. Laura wasn’t talking about her father. She was talking about Rikke. About her secret.

 

“I came back to our farm,” Rikke went on, “and I took that bat, and I beat our mother until she was nothing but mush and pulp. Finn watched me do it. He knew I didn’t have a choice. No one was ever supposed to know. But then he went and spilled his guts to Laura. I heard him. The stupid, jealous bastard! Laura should have let me explain, but she ran away. What was I supposed to think? If she had stayed, I would never have hurt her, but she
left
.”

 

Tish’s eyes were wild. “She never told me.”

 

“Oh, but she would have told you eventually,” Rikke said. “I don’t blame her. I don’t blame Finn, either. We could all have worked it out if it weren’t for you. You’re the one who destroyed us. Now it’s my turn.”

 

Rikke let the car keys dangle from her finger in front of Tish’s face.

 

“This is the end for both of us.”

 

As Tish screamed, Rikke casually flicked the keys out over the side of the bridge, where they fell in a silver flash.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

49
___________

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As Stride and Serena drew closer to the glowing white arch of the Blatnik Bridge, brake lights turned red, and traffic around them ground to a dead stop. The bridge lights over their heads were bathed in fog. Ahead of them, horns blared in a singsong whine as cars trickled forward, slowly merging into a convoy over the span. He lowered the window of his truck and leaned out to study the highway, but he couldn’t make out the summit of the bridge through the white cloud.

 

“Is it an accident?” Serena asked.

 

“I don’t know. Every time the fog rolls in, people start running into each other.”

 

Serena peered over the edge. “Long way down.”

 

“One hundred and twenty feet to the water.”

 

On the opposite side of the center barrier, traffic streamed toward them out of the haze. In the westbound lane, people jostled for position and cut each other off as they merged. He didn’t like the speed or impatience of the other drivers. He reached behind his seat for an emergency flasher and slapped it magnetically to the top of his Expedition. The red light turned and shot a beam around them. He turned on his four-ways and shut off the engine.

 

“You want to come?” he said to Serena.

 

“Out on the bridge?”

 

“You can stay here if you want.”

 

“Hell, no, I’m with you.”

 

He opened the door and stepped out onto the bridge deck. Serena did the same on the other side of the truck. She was closer to the edge, where the dirt and gravel of the narrow shoulder bumped against the concrete barrier.

 

“Be careful,” he said.

 

“Now you tell me.”

 

He waved his hands to alert drivers around him and walked up the highway, following the white paint marking the two lanes. Serena veered away from the shoulder and marched beside him. They could only see a few cars at a time in the swirling fog. On their right, steel girders sloped upward toward the semicircle of the bridge arch. Lights came and went over their heads as the mist drifted in pockets. He slapped the metal frame of each car they approached, so the driver knew they were there. He didn’t want anyone bolting across the lane as they came up from behind.

 

Inside his pocket, his phone rang. He flipped it up. “What’s up, Mags?”

 

“I’m at Rikke’s house. No sign of her here.”

 

“Get an ATL out on the tan Impala.”

 

“Already done. Where are you?”

 

Stride shook his head. “You don’t want to know. We’re hiking up the bridge deck on the Blatnik.”

 

“Hiking?”

 

“Yeah, traffic is almost stopped. Something’s going on.”

 

“Watch your ass, boss. That’s a mean bridge.”

 

Stride hung up. He and Serena threaded their way through traffic, but the fog grew thicker as they increased their altitude over the water. Cars pushed and shoved around them as if they were trapped in an amusement park ride.

 

“Let’s get back to the shoulder,” he told Serena. “I don’t like being in the middle of traffic.”

 

“Great,” she said without enthusiasm.

 

He held up his hands and crossed in front of a Chevy minivan that was angling toward the left lane. When they reached the shoulder, he increased his pace, marching faster.

 

“Watch your step, the gravel’s loose here,” he told her.

 

“You, too.”

 

He passed the first of the thick girders that sprouted upward like an erector set into a tree of beams and rivets. Circular holes allowed the wind to pass through the steel. Twin sets of cables hung elegantly from the top of the span like piano strings, suspending the roadbed on which they walked. From the lake, gusts pummeled them, dancing around the towers like sprites. He steadied himself against the concrete barrier, but the sensation of height briefly took his breath away. He could feel the rocking sway of the bridge up here.

 

Traffic accelerated around them. Cars that had merged into the left lane squealed and left rubber on the asphalt as they roared out of the clogged pipeline of vehicles. Stride made a frantic downward motion with his palms, trying to slow them down. No one paid attention. They sped by like giants.

 

He heard something. Not the howl of the wind. This was a scream.

 

An updraft separated the fog like a curtain. Thirty yards away, he spotted a tan Impala, half blocking the right lane of traffic at the very peak of the bridge. A trail of restless cars sped around it, sailing down the open space of the highway toward Duluth. A tall woman stood outside the car, buffeted by the wind. She was dressed in black, and she came and went in the cloud like a witch.

 

Rikke.

 

“Son of a bitch,” he said.

 

Serena saw her, too. “What do you want to do?”

 

Stride grabbed his cell phone and pushed it into her hand. “Call Maggie and get Duluth cops up here from the other side of the bridge. Then see if you can stop these goddamned idiots and shut down the traffic.”

 

He jogged away from her, then turned back and shouted. “Tell Maggie to get hold of the Coast Guard, too. I want them under the bridge right now in case we need a rescue operation in the water.”

 

He pulled his gun. He ran.

 

 

 

 

Rikke gazed downward into the windy stretch of air leading to the bay. “Fast and free,” she murmured.

 

A wild impulse almost made Tish bolt from the car and push her, but the roadbed vibrated, and the Impala began to move, inching along the highway. Tish screamed, scrambled across the seat, and jammed the emergency brake with her foot.

 

Rikke ripped open the passenger door and yanked her across the torn vinyl. Tish clutched the steering wheel, but Rikke was stronger, and when Tish felt her fingers torn away from the wheel, the two of them lurched backward. Tish spilled out of the car onto the bridge deck. Rikke cursed and lost her balance, nearly tumbling over the edge.

 

Tish flattened herself facedown on the ground and covered her head with her hands. She heard a roaring noise from the wind and traffic. Every muscle in her body tightened like a spring. Her fear of heights thumped in her head, shooting panicked impulses to her brain. The voice was seductive, like a Pied Piper telling her to get up, run, and leap for the water. Jump. Make the terror stop.

 

Rikke squatted beside her. She took a fistful of Tish’s coat and wrenched her up, propping her back against the side of the car. Tish closed her eyes, but Rikke pushed them open with her fingers, and Tish saw the concrete barrier and the open air beyond it, beckoning her with open, breezy arms.

 

Rikke clutched her face with both hands. “All these years, I wondered if you knew. If you’d seen me. If Laura had told you what I did. I kept waiting for you to come back and expose me. And then, after all these years, you did.”

 

“I didn’t know,” Tish said. “Please let me go. I can’t take this.”

 

“I went to pick Finn up in the park that night. He was stoned out of his head, babbling about Laura, about the two of you in the woods. I found the baseball bat in the field, and I knew what I had to do. Silence Laura. And pay her back for leaving me.”

 

“I loved her!” Tish screamed. She beat her hands ferociously on Rikke’s chest, driving her back toward the edge of the bridge. “You goddamned bitch, how could you!”

 

Rikke recovered and stumbled forward on her knees. She bunched the lapels of Tish’s jacket in her fists. Their faces were an inch apart. “What about you? I spent my whole life looking over my shoulder because of you. You ruined my life. You ruined Finn’s life.”

 

Tish slapped her hard. “You took Laura away!”

 

Rikke pushed herself to her feet, swaying and towering over Tish. “Get up.”

 

Tish wrapped her hands around Rikke’s ankles and pulled violently. Rikke shouted and tumbled like a tree, landing in the gravel. Tish crawled away toward the speeding cars on the highway, but Rikke threw herself onto Tish’s back and drove her to the asphalt. Rikke rolled her over. Sharp rocks sliced into Tish’s skin. The older woman’s face was blood red and twisted with fury.

 

Rikke’s fingers curled like talons and seized Tish’s neck. Her thumbs drove into Tish’s windpipe, making her gag and choke. She couldn’t breathe. Her body spasmed. She tore at Rikke’s hands, but they were two blocks of granite.

 

“
Rikke!
”

 

They both heard the voice.

 

Rikke let go of Tish’s neck and peered through the fog on the bridge deck. Tish gasped for breath and twisted away. Behind her, she saw Stride, his gun out, sprinting toward them. Tish tried to wriggle free, but Rikke came off her knees and stood up, wrapping another choke hold around her neck and dragging Tish to her feet. Tish struggled and kicked, her eyes growing white and wide as Rikke inched toward the edge of the bridge. Tish clawed for the safety of the car, but Rikke held her tight, forcing her to stare into the black abyss below them.

 

Tish could see it clearly. In her head, she was already falling. Her breath left her chest, and she thought her heart would burst.

 

“Stop!” Rikke shouted at Stride. “I’ll kill us both.”

 

 

 

 

Stride stopped. He holstered his gun and held up his hands. “Let her go, Rikke.”

 

Tish squirmed like a frightened animal in Rikke’s arms. Her fingers tore at Rikke’s clothes.

 

“If I let her go, she’ll jump,” Rikke said. “She’s out of her head.”

 

“Put her back in the car.”

 

Rikke’s legs nudged against the concrete barrier on the edge of the bridge deck. The height of the barrier barely came up past her knees. She
leaned into the wind, carrying Tish’s torso with her. Tish wailed, a noise so primal and terrified that it made Stride flinch.

 

“I’ll do it,” Rikke said. “I’ll take her with me. I don’t care.”

 

Stride’s mind shut out the world. Distractions fell away. He didn’t notice the wind or the height or the thumping of the highway under his feet. He took two steps closer to Rikke. She was six feet away.

 

“Stay back,” she warned him.

 

He was conscious of the fact that Serena was behind him, stopping the flow of cars heading west. On the opposite side of the bridge, he heard the siren of a squad car speeding from Duluth. The squad car stopped twenty yards away at an angle across both eastbound lanes, and a young policewoman bolted out of the car, her gun drawn. He slowly brought up his hand, keeping her where she was. The cop held her ground, and traffic from the Duluth side bled away to nothing as cars backed up behind her car.

 

They were alone up here.

 

“I want you both to get back in the car,” he told Rikke.

 

Wisps of fog floated lazily between them. The bridge was in and out of the flow of clouds. Far below, Stride heard a boat whistle. He recognized it as the call of a Coast Guard rescue cutter, churning toward the span of the bridge and positioning itself in the bay. He had been on that boat many times. Most jumpers didn’t come out of the water alive.

 

He took another step.

 

“Let her go,” he told Rikke. “Give her to me.”

 

Rikke’s eyes were like blue stones. “Don’t move,” she said.

 

Stride put his hands up. “I’m not moving.”

 

One of the twin sets of vertical cables supporting the roadbed was immediately behind Rikke. She slid her left arm around the cables to brace herself and hoisted Tish bodily off the ground with her other arm. Tish’s legs kicked madly, and her blond hair twirled around her head in the back-and-forth of the wind.

 

“Go ahead,” Rikke told Stride with scorn. “Come get me.”

 

“Tish never did a thing to you,” Stride said. “Whatever happened between you and Laura has been over for years.”

 

“Then she should have stayed away.”

 

Stride saw the policewoman on the opposite side of the bridge climb