The Many (20 page)

13

Dawn felt like a fifties housewife as she stood on her doorstep and watched Karl trudge off to work. She’d offered him a ride, but he’d insisted on taking the bus, saying he needed to familiarize himself with the schedule. Dawn suspected he just didn’t want to be chauffeured – probably one of those stupid male pride things.

As soon as Karl left, she checked the computer again. She’d been checking every five minutes since getting out of bed, her heartbeat thumping every time she refreshed her Love Letters mailbox. She and Karl had been up until midnight the night before, creating her new online dating persona. It wasn’t as easy as coming up with a fake name and filling in the blanks. Just like Sweet Violets, the terms of membership for Love Letters required the credit card to match the client’s name, so neither of them could use their Visas. With no other options available, Dawn was forced to call Aunt Rosaline and ask for her credit card details, claiming she’d lost her own and urgently needed to pay for a supermarket delivery. Aunt Rosaline had reluctantly agreed, adding that she checked her online statements regularly and had a very low limit. Dawn figured she’d worry about that particular headache when the time came.

They signed up Rosaline (Rosie) Harris for a three-month trial, giving them access to all the singles on the Love Letters website. In setting up Rosie’s profile, Dawn and Karl had disagreed over the best image to portray – she’d wanted to go slutty, wearing lots of make-up and boasting about her kinky tastes; but Karl thought cute and innocent would play better. He said guys fantasized way more about good girls gone bad than flat-out bad girls. And besides, if her image was too provocative, the doctor might think she was more trouble than she was worth.

Since Karl was clearly speaking from experience, Dawn had bowed to his perverted male logic. She wore a light blue t-shirt for her photo and claimed to be a 20-year-old student at Portland State. She described her personality as fun and goofy and listed her hobbies as dancing, travel and volleyball. Keep the details simple, Karl advised, and let her photo do the rest. Dawn suspected he was just telling her what she wanted to hear, praising her smile and stuff, but she didn’t mind the flattery. Now that Isobel was gone, there was no one else to boost her confidence.

After they’d created Rosie’s profile, they searched for Adam Reynolds. It was the first time Dawn had laid eyes on him, and her stomach clenched when his chiseled features appeared on screen. She’d complained to Karl – how the hell was she supposed to get through a dinner with this guy? They’d have nothing in common. He’d told her not to worry, Dr. Reynolds wasn’t looking for a soul mate, and he’d probably stick to routine questions about school and family.

Next, they’d composed a brief message:

Hi, I’m looking for a smart guy who doesn’t just drink beer and watch football on the weekend. Unfortunately I’m at college so my options are pretty limited! Are you interested in grabbing a bite sometime?
Rosie.

Friendly, straight to the point and casual – they both agreed they’d nailed Rosie’s voice. With three short sentences, Dawn had a clearer picture of how she’d play the role.

She’d gone to bed that night with mixed emotions. She shared Karl’s desire to take positive action, but part of her wouldn’t have minded if he turned down her request and the whole plan was aborted. There would be other avenues to explore; other leads to follow up. They just had to be patient.

But that was her pathetic cowardice talking. She’d put her life on hold to avenge her mother’s death and here was a golden opportunity to bring down her adversaries. Even though her palms started sweating just thinking about the date, she needed to be strong. She’d never forgive herself if she called it off.

Dr. Reynolds’s reply came shortly after noon. Dawn’s pulse was racing when she opened the message:

Hi Rosie. I’d love to catch up. How about dinner tonight?

Adam.

A wave of fear swept over her.
Tonight?
It was too soon. She’d mentally prepared for a date on Friday or Saturday, giving her two whole days to steel her nerves. She wasn’t ready to sit down with Dr. Reynolds
tonight
. No fucking way.

She replied:

Hi Adam. Awesome you want to catch up, but I already have plans tonight. Could we make it on the weekend?

He took less than a minute to respond:

Unfortunately, no. I’m out of town on a conference from tomorrow morning. Won’t be back in Portland until late next week. Maybe we’ll get in touch then?

Dawn breathed a sigh of relief. She was off the hook. She’d have more than a couple of days to prepare – she’d have ten. Ten days to get a plan together and work out exactly what she was going to say. It would be time well spent.

She called Karl and told him the news.

“Next weekend?” he groaned quietly. She guessed his boss was within earshot. “No, Dawn – that’s too long to wait. We don’t a whole week to prepare.”

“But we need more than a few hours,” she said, circling the living room.

“Why? What do we need to go over?”

“Everything. What I should say, how you’ll know if I’m in trouble, what to do when we get to the cabin…?”

“That’ll take an hour, tops. We went through most of this last night.”

“I want to go over it again.”

“Fine, but we don’t need ten goddamn days.” He paused, breathing heavily. “You’ll drive yourself crazy waiting till next weekend. Believe me, it’s better this way. Think about it – this could all be over tomorrow. No more living in fear. No more looking over your shoulder.”

Dawn glanced at her reflection in the living room mirror.
No more fear.
She could only imagine how incredible that would feel – having the weight of dread and uncertainty lifted from her shoulders. She might finally be able to grieve properly for Isobel. Grieving would be a sweet relief.

She went with the rush of blood before it faded. “How soon can you get back here?” she asked.

“Half an hour,” he said. “I’ll tell Ravi I’m dying.”

“That’ll make two of us.”

A breath of laughter. “It’ll be okay, Dawn. We can do this.”

Dawn hung up before she could change her mind. She willed herself back to the computer desk and clicked on Dr. Reynolds last message, typing out a reply:

Actually, I can break tonight’s plans no problem. Where should we meet?

She stared at the screen, waiting for a response. Had she sounded too desperate, cancelling plans to meet him? Maybe he’d have second thoughts….

Dawn felt her lungs tighten when her cell phone started ringing. It was Dr. Reynolds – she’d memorized the number from his profile page. She closed her eyes, trying to slow her breathing. Just be Rosie, she reminded herself. Sweet and goofy Rosie.

“Hello,” she answered in a breezy voice.

“Hi, this is Adam Reynolds.”

“Adam! How are you?”

“I’m well, and you?”

“Good, yeah. Just chilling out.”

“Chilling out, eh?” he said, the expression sounding absurd in his deep English accent. “Well, I was very happy you asked me out. I enjoyed reading your profile.”

“Thanks.”

“And I’m flattered to be among the first people you contacted.”

Dawn hesitated.
How did he know that?

“Your profile page said you only joined yesterday,” Dr. Reynolds said, helping her out. “Sorry, it’s one of the things I look at. I’m a bit wary of members who’ve been dating since 1990.”

Dawn laughed nervously. “Oh, right.” She cleared her throat, feeling her composure unraveling.
She needed to get off the phone.
“Where should we eat?” she spluttered.

“Right, good question, Actually, I was thinking of a French restaurant downtown. Do you like French food?”

“Yes,” she said, although the mere mention of food made her stomach turn.

“Excellent. I’ll book a table for eight o’clock. Would you like me to pick you up or will you meet me there?”

“I’ll meet you there,” she said quickly.

“Good, perfect.” He proceeded to give her directions to Le Canard, a well-reviewed new restaurant in the Pearl District, and advised her that the dress code was reasonably smart. “You don’t need a cocktail dress, but a t-shirt and jeans is probably too casual.”

“No problem,” she said, feeling an undeserved rush of shame. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“As am I, Rosie. As am I.”

After Dawn hung up, she took a moment to replay the conversation in her head, analyzing every line. Seeking to confirm she hadn’t slipped up or given him a clue to her true identity.

It had been okay, she thought. She’d done okay.

She looked down at a dirty coffee cup on the desk, her head spinning. Then she ran upstairs to the bathroom and threw up.

14

Karl got a shock when Dawn answered the front door. Her skin was greenish-white, and he could smell vomit drifting down the stairs. For a moment, he worried she’d been drinking, but it was soon apparent she was just sick with worry. And who could blame her?

He led Dawn back to the living room and sat her down in the sofa. She was in a daze, her eyes off in the middle distance. Karl went to the kitchen and boiled water for tea, talking casually about the weather and his hectic morning at work. He couldn’t let Dawn see how nervous he was. She had to believe he was calm and in control.

The tea seemed to help. She cupped the mug with both hands, leaning forward so the steam curled around her chin. Her eyes slowly came back into focus. “What happens after he takes me back to the cabin?” she asked.

They’d been over this, but Karl was happy to explain again. “Once you’re parked, you get out of his car and run back up the road. He thinks you’re unconscious so you’ll catch him by surprise. I’ll be following close behind so you’ll only have to run twenty yards or so. Then you hop into the Civic and we drive away.”

“We don’t go inside the cabin,” she wanted to verify.

“No, definitely not. We only need the location and then we’ll call the cops.”

“And what makes you think they’ll help?”

“Because we’ll lie. We’ll say we saw Leach’s face at the window and we heard screaming inside. He’s a wanted man, remember – they’ll have to take us seriously. And his DNA must be all over that cabin. Not to mention his chemistry equipment and whatever else he’s keeping in the basement.”

Dawn shivered at the mention of Leach’s basement. Karl dug his fingers into his thigh muscle, annoyed he’d steered her thoughts in a dark direction.

“You can do this,” he reassured. “We’ve got a rock-solid plan and plenty of back-up options if something goes wrong.”

Her eyes fell to his jacket. “Can I see it?” she asked.

“It’s upstairs.”

She stared at him.
Well?
             

Karl got to his feet and went up to retrieve the gun. He’d barely touched the Beretta since he’d bought it from Kenny a month ago. There was something about holding a lethal weapon that made him uneasy. Like he was playing a role that didn’t suit him.

“It’s not loaded,” Karl said when he arrived back in the living room, handing the pistol to Dawn.

She inspected it silently, the gun looking massive in her hand.

“But you
will
load it,” she said, aiming the barrel at Karl and curling her finger around the trigger.

Karl felt his stomach drop. “Jesus, don’t do that,” he said, snatching the gun from her. “And yeah, of course I’ll load it. The bullets are upstairs.”

“Why do you get the gun, anyway?”

He came right out and said it. “Because I don’t trust you with it. No offense, but have you ever shot a gun before? Do you know how to disengage the safety?”

She shook her head.

“Didn’t think so,” he said, failing to mention that he’d only shot air rifles before and had needed Kenny to give him a tutorial on the Beretta. “Hopefully I won’t have to use it,” he said, tucking the pistol inside his jacket.

“That’s reassuring.
Hopefully
you won’t have to use it. If the plan was fool-proof, you wouldn’t need a gun at all.”

“It’s ninety percent fool-proof,” Karl said confidently, as if he’d actually run tests. “The gun covers the ten percent we can’t control.”

Karl could tell from the look on Dawn’s face that she resented him. She looked so young, staring at him furiously with her dark green eyes and small mouth trembling. He wanted to put his arm around her and tell her she didn’t have to go through with it – that she could lie down on the sofa and they’d find another way to make Leach and his flunkies pay.

But Karl wasn’t about to give in to temptation. Revenge wasn’t easy – he’d known that from the start. Risks had to be taken. And this was as much Dawn’s retribution as it was his.

He stood up and stretched his legs, escaping the cozy confines of the living room. He nodded at Dawn from the hallway. “Come on. Let’s work out what you’re going to wear tonight.”

Karl wasn’t a fashion expert, but even he could tell Dawn had a terrible wardrobe. There were too many baggy sweaters, black jeans, shapeless blouses and tired-looking t-shirts. The tank top she’d worn the previous night was a standout, and if she’d been going on a pizza date, it would’ve been perfect.

“Haven’t you got any skirts?” he asked, swiping through the hangers in her closet. “Dresses?”

“No. That’s why I told you – I need more time.”

“What’s this?” he asked, pulling out a slinky, floral print garment. It had thin straps around the neckline and a nice flow to it. Nothing like anything else she owned. He held the dress up to Dawn. “What about this?”

“Too short,” she said.

He took another look. “Nah – it’s fine.”

“It’s freezing outside, Karl. Would you go outside in shorts?”

“I would if I had stockings and big black coat to wear over the top.” He threw the dress at her. “Try it on.”

She let the dress fall to the floor, her expression defiant.

Karl had run out of patience. “Dawn – you’re doing this. I’m going to help you through it, but you can’t keep giving me these bullshit excuses. We’ve only got a few hours left so let’s use them productively. Or don’t you care about justice for Isobel anymore?”

The words hit their mark. Dawn took an angry step towards him. “Where the hell do you get off?” she growled.

“I’m not the enemy here,” he said quietly. “I know this is hard, but unless we take a calculated risk tonight, Leach and Dr. Reynolds and Maxine are going to get away with murder. They’ll be free to abduct and abuse countless more women. Can you live with that on your conscience?”

Dawn looked down, her shoulders sagging.

“Neither can I. Now, I’m going to give you some privacy, but when I come back, I want to see you in that dress.”

Karl promptly left the room, feeling disgusted with himself as he closed the door. What a manipulative prick he was. He hoped Dawn would forgive him when it was all over.

Standing outside her bedroom door, he heard the rustle of clothes and the clunk of discarded shoes. Karl closed his eyes, breathing out slowly. He knew she could handle tonight – that’s why he was being so hard on her. Like a football coach, he had to put emotions to one side and concentrate on getting the best performance out of his star player.

“Okay,” she called out.

When Karl re-entered the room, he felt his jaw drop. The floral-print dress hugged Dawn’s figure perfectly, accentuating her full, sexy hips. Her legs were wrapped in black stockings and calf-length suede boots. She’d even added a long, beaded necklace that dipped enticingly between her breasts.

She looked flat out gorgeous.

“Wow,” said Karl, momentarily forgetting where he was.

Dawn’s tense expression softened at the compliment. Color spread through her cheeks.

“What about make-up?” she eventually asked.

Karl smiled, feeling a surge of affection and pride for the girl he’d met only two days ago.

She was ready.