Read The Lost Girls of Johnson's Bayou Online

Authors: Jana DeLeon

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The Lost Girls of Johnson's Bayou (17 page)

BOOK: The Lost Girls of Johnson's Bayou
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“No. She was in a coma for quite a long time in the hospital, but after her burns healed, she just woke up one day. After that, they sent her to rehab, which is when my friend got her. They had to retrain her on how to read and write, and my friend said she couldn’t remember a thing about her life before the fire. Once she was ready for a normal life, they petitioned the court for a name and she went to live with a foster family.”

Madelaine pointed to the paper. “That’s the name she chose. Of course, that was years ago and there’s a good chance she’s married now, but I figure you could find that out, right?”

Paul stared at the name on the paper.
Kathy Stevens.
His heart leapt when he read the name. Kathy. Could she have forgotten everything but her first name?

“I’ll call this in to my partner and have him start searching immediately.” He looked over at Madelaine. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

Madelaine’s eyes teared up and she waved a hand in dismissal. “Don’t thank me yet. Thank me if we find out it’s your sister.”

Paul pulled out his phone and called Mike. He’d probably wake him up at this hour of the morning, but it was worth it. Once his sleepy partner answered, he rattled off the name then disconnected the call, trying to keep his excitement to a minimum by folding valances.

He didn’t have to wait long. Ten minutes later, Mike called back. He’d found Kathy Stevens.

 

P
AUL LOOKED ANXIOUSLY at Ginny, took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. Ginny reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know I said I wasn’t going to get my hopes up, but I lied.”

“It would be impossible not to be hopeful,” Ginny said. “It’s a long shot, but the chance is still there. You’ll never know, though, if you don’t ring the doorbell.”

Paul nodded. “You’re right.” He reached his free hand up and rang the doorbell.

They heard footsteps inside and a couple of seconds later, a pretty woman with her long brown hair pulled into a ponytail opened the door. She smiled at them and asked, “Can I help you?”

Paul felt his knees weaken. It was her. Older, more mature, but there was no mistaking his sister’s face.
Concentrate. Don’t scare her.
“Are you Kathy Stevens?”

“Yes, but it’s Kathy Landry now.” The woman looked back and forth expectantly from Paul to Ginny. “Is something wrong?”

She doesn’t remember me.
Paul struggled to control the wave of disappointment that coursed through him. Ginny squeezed his hand and he tried to focus. “My name is Paul Stanton. Does that mean anything to you?”

Kathy frowned. “No…no, I don’t think so. Should it?”

This is wrong. Just say you made a mistake and leave her to her life. Clearly she’s moved on and isn’t hurting about the past. Dredging it up will only cause her pain.
“My mistake,” Paul said, his voice shaky. “I thought you were someone else.” He glanced over at Ginny, whose face fell at his declaration. “Let’s go.”

He started to turn when Kathy grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. “Wait!” She stared at him for several seconds, her eyes narrowed on his face. Her expression was puzzled, as if she were trying to put the pieces together. Then she gasped and a flush rushed up her neck and over her face. She put both hands up to cover her mouth. “Oh, my God. I remember. Paul…you’re Paul.”

Kathy looked back into the house and yelled, “John! Come here quick!”

A fit, handsome man hurried up beside her, a worried look on his face. “What’s wrong? Are these people bothering you?”

“No,” Kathy began to cry and pointed to Paul. “This is my brother. I remember him. I have a brother.” She stepped forward and placed her arms around Paul’s neck. Paul glanced at her bewildered husband, then hugged her back as she began to sob, unable to hold back his own tears.

It took several minutes to stop the hugging and crying long enough to explain the basics to Kathy’s husband, but Ginny took the lead and filled in the gaps. John’s expression went from confused to shocked to overwhelmed in a matter of seconds, and he ushered all of them inside to the living room to sit. He took a seat on the couch next to his wife and put his arm around her.

“I can’t believe it,” he said and gave his wife a squeeze. “Kathy never remembered anything about the past except her first name. We didn’t even know she had a brother, and now, for you to be here…I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I don’t even know what to say.”

“It’s a miracle,” Kathy said and brushed the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’d given up trying to remember a long time ago. I figured if no one was looking for me, then there wasn’t much of importance to recall, so I just moved on. As if my life began on the day I left the hospital.”

Ginny sniffed and Paul instantly realized that what Kathy had just described was Ginny’s life, too. They’d had parallel experiences starting with the same tragedy. He took Ginny’s hand in his own and looked over at her, hoping to convey his understanding with a look. She gave him a small smile.

“I still can’t believe it,” Kathy said. “All these years. What happened? How did you find me? Oh, my…I have so many questions. I don’t know where to start.”

Paul recounted their childhood to Kathy, who cried again over their parents’ deaths and was suitably horrified by the actions of child protective services. She asked a lot of questions that Paul could answer about their life with their parents and even more that he couldn’t answer about what happened afterward.

“You have no memory of the time before you left the hospital?” Paul asked.

“Not really. I mean, I know I was at the school and rescued from the fire. Sometimes I get flashes of memory—like seconds in time—but vivid, like a movie. I think it’s during the time I was at the school. It was an old, huge house with cypress trees surrounding it. I remember sewing and playing in a huge yard with other girls. But nothing concrete. Just snippets.”

Kathy shook her head. “When I first saw you, nothing registered, but then when you were about to leave, something hit me and suddenly I knew. I can’t remember a single thing about our childhood, but I knew with certainty that you were my brother.”

Kathy looked over at Ginny. “I’m sorry, we’ve just been going on and on. Are you Paul’s wife?”

“No,” Ginny said. “I just met Paul this week when he came to Johnson’s Bayou looking for you. I…I’m like you. I don’t know my past. I appeared in Johnson’s Bayou the day after the fire at the school, but like you, no one ever came looking for me.”

“Oh, honey,” Kathy said, “I am so sorry. Is there anything we can do? Surely, if Paul found me, he can get answers for you.”

“I’m going to get answers for Ginny,” Paul assured her. “I knew I was going to help her once I heard her story, but now, it’s become even more critical.”

Kathy and John frowned. “What’s wrong?” Kathy asked. “Are you sick?”

“No,” Paul answered, “but I think she’s in danger. She’s started to remember—flashes of memory like you describe—but nothing concrete. Unfortunately, someone has been paying close attention to Ginny and noticed that she changed when the flashes began. I think the fire at the LeBlanc School was intentional—that those girls were all murdered. Whoever has kept it hidden all these years is threatened by Ginny’s returning memories. There have already been two attempts on her life.”

John jumped up from the couch, his face flushed with red. “And you came here? You knowingly exposed us to danger? What’s wrong with you?”

Paul shook his head, not blaming the other man in the least for his anger. “You were already in danger. I’m sure whoever is watching Ginny has always known where Kathy was. He’s probably kept a close eye on her all these years.”

“But before now, he had no reason to assume she knew anything.”

“And he still doesn’t,” Paul said. “He doesn’t know you’re my sister, and even if he finds out we came here today, he has no reason to believe you could recall anything at all. When I leave here today, I won’t contact you or return until this whole thing is settled. Okay?”

John ran one hand through his hair, still clearly unnerved at the entire situation. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m just a little out of my element here.”

“We’re all a little out of our element,” Paul reassured him. “My work usually isn’t personal, so it’s different for me, too.”

“What if I remember something?” Kathy asked. “I haven’t in all these years, but what if now things start to come back—things that might help you figure out what happened? How do I get in touch with you?”

Paul pulled a card from his wallet and handed it to Kathy. “That has all my contact information, but just to be safe, don’t use your home phone, cell phone or computer to contact me. Use a workplace phone or a public internet connection.”

“Is that really necessary?” John asked.

“Probably not,” Paul replied, “but I don’t want to take any chances. If whoever is watching Ginny thinks this is a dead end, he’ll leave you alone.”

At least, that’s what Paul hoped.

 

T
HE MAN WATCHED AS Paul and Ginny pulled away from the woman’s house. How had they found her? The nurse promised him she hadn’t said a word. Had she lied? Or had they found someone else who knew how to find the woman? Did the woman remember anything when she saw them?

He’d watched the woman over the years, as he’d watched Ginny. Neither had shown signs of remembering, so he’d left them alone to their new lives. He’d been altruistic, thinking himself a great man of mercy. But now, that decision was coming back to haunt him.

If he’d killed the girls back then, it would have drawn attention from the police, but without any evidence, ultimately, the police would have blamed the missing headmistress for the crimes. Sixteen years was a long time for someone to wait to start killing again, and the police would definitely be able to make the connection between Ginny and the woman, especially now that they were both aware of each other’s existence.

He knew the man, Paul Stanton, was lying about his real profession as a detective, but why had he lied? Had Ginny paid him to unravel the secrets of her memories? Or was the other woman really his sister, as he’d told the nurse?

And what of Ginny’s mother? He’d been keeping a close watch on Madelaine, but the older woman showed no signs of being aware that her daughter was involved in anything outside of her normal routine and spending a little time with a vacationing stranger. Certainly, she hadn’t appeared worried, as he was certain she would have been if she’d known Ginny’s memory was returning. That was a good thing, he decided.

The fewer people that were aware of what was going on, the lower the body count when it was all over.

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

Paul sank down on the couch in Ginny’s apartment, still unable to believe everything that had happened that day. Ginny seemed only slightly less dazed than he felt, and he heard her now, clinking glasses around in the kitchen. A couple of seconds later, she handed him a beer and slumped down on the couch next to him with a glass of wine.

“I’m out of Scotch,” she said. “Tough week around here for Scotch.”

Paul laughed. “It’s so surreal, you know?”

“I feel like I’ve lived a year in the past twenty-four hours.”

Paul stared at her, surprised that she’d so easily verbalized what he was feeling, and then comforted by the knowledge that someone else really got it. In all the time he’d imagined this moment, he’d never imagined sharing it with someone else. But now that he’d met Ginny, he couldn’t imagine it any other way. “That’s it exactly. When I think about everything that’s happened since I arrived here, it seems almost impossible that it’s all been in the span of a few days.”

“Well, I guess in all fairness, it’s been building for sixteen years.”

“True.”

Ginny took a sip of wine, then looked over at him and smiled. “You found your sister.” She held up her wine glass and he clinked his beer against it, unable to control the grin that spread across his face.

“I found my sister,” he said. A rush of emotion overwhelmed him—happiness at finally finding her, sadness at their lost childhood and everything she’d been through, and most of all, fear that the past wasn’t yet behind them.

“How does it feel? I mean…you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to—”

“It feels incredible! It’s like everything you can possibly feel is all happening at the same time.”

Ginny nodded. “Overwhelming emotion. I can imagine, especially after all this time and given all the circumstances surrounding it.” She placed her hand on his. “I know today wasn’t exactly the reunion you were hoping for, but as soon as we figure all this out, you’ll be able to have the relationship with your sister that you want.”

Paul placed his beer on the coffee table. “You always know the perfect thing to say—like you’ve known me forever.” He stroked her cheek with his hand. “You’re a special woman, Ginny. Like no one I’ve ever known before.”

Her face tingled at his touch and a quivering began deep inside her. She knew he was going to kiss her and that she should prevent it, but no amount of logic was going to override her body’s desire for him. She longed to have his hands, his lips on her, making her whole.

When his lips touched hers, the quivering that had begun at her center radiated out to every square inch of her body. Warmth followed, and as he deepened the kiss, their tongues dancing together, she thought her clothes would catch on fire from the heat of her skin. She wanted this man. Since meeting him, her entire life had changed—become fuller, more immediate. It was as if she hadn’t really started to live until this week…until Paul Stanton.

“I want you, Ginny,” he whispered.

“Yes,” she said and wrapped her arms around him.

He surprised her by lifting her completely off the couch and carrying her into the bedroom. She thought he’d place her on the bed, but instead he lowered her beside it and kissed her again as they stood, their bodies pressed together. He ran his hands down her sides to catch the hem of her shirt, then pulled it over her head in one fluid motion.

BOOK: The Lost Girls of Johnson's Bayou
9.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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