Blood? Like blood flowing from a slit wrist? Reese’s mind whirled through a dense fog of hidden memories and was startled to remember Luke’s words, “It’s Mr. Albreck. He’s giving the flower to Heather.” Those words had been lost, tucked into the world of borderline unconsciousness. Like amnesia. But they weren’t lost anymore. They had surfaced. And Claire Yates! Oh yes, Claire Yates had tried to trigger the memory. She wasn’t telling Reese that she had the wrong guy. She was trying to make Reese remember. She was sending a message, albeit an encrypted message. But what had Paul said? Messages from the other side didn’t come all spelled out, nice and neat. If he was to be believed, Luke had tried to prevent Claire from communicating with Reese. Maybe it was the only way she could get Reese’s attention what with Luke playing border patrol.

“Reese, are you there?” Paul’s voice remained calm but stern.

“There’s blood on my desk? Where the hell is Lucy?” Reese didn’t bother hiding her frantic tone. It was too coincidental that both sisters were missing.

“I don’t know where she is. There’s not a lot of blood. Just, I don’t know, like a spray across your monitor and desk.”

“Like a nosebleed? Come on, Paul. Give me more information!” Reese demanded, but didn’t wait for an answer before ordering Paul to go after Gregory and then to call her back.

For all of a second she considered turning back to help Paul find Lucy. But if Lucy was hurt or kidnapped, it confirmed the fear that Addie was in real trouble, not just a runaway statistic. She needed to get to their mother and get to the bottom of all of this. She was pretty certain Heather had information vital to the case.

The remainder of the drive was a quick blur. Reese pulled alongside the house where she had seen Gregory parked the night before. She was climbing out of her car before she had even cut the engine. Her cell phone rang. She reached back into the car and snagged it.

“Hello?” She snapped. She approached the bottom step and looked up to the house. The blinds were drawn and it appeared very still, eerily still. Damn! She didn’t have a single weapon with her.

“Gregory’s gone,” Paul said breathing heavy as if he was running. “Should I call the police?”

“You’re a fucking psychic, Paul! Go find her yourself!” Reese ended the call and tucked the phone into her back pocket. She knew she was taking her frustration out on Paul, but there was no time to waste nor time for pleasantries.

She climbed the few steps and stood for a split second at the front door. Should she ring the bell or knock? Oh God. She was about to be face to face with Heather. After all these years. After all the tears and anguish. After the betrayal from her best friend. She knocked. Then she pounded.

“Hold on a minute!” A woman’s voice called from inside the house.

The curtain at the little window pulled back a couple of inches and Reese could make out a shape but nothing definitive. Then she heard, “shit!” from the other side.

“Heather, open up. It’s Reese Caldwell. We need to talk. Now.”

Reese listened as Heather clicked open two deadbolts and pulled a slide chain. Was the neighborhood unsafe or did just Heather feel unsafe? She opened the door just a hair.

“Reese, what are you doing here?” Heather’s voice was that of a bubbly school girl. She smiled sweetly and innocently. Reese had no time for the bullshit.

“Heather, knock the crap off. We need to talk.”

The door opened wider, but not in an invitation to come in. The grown-up Heather stood at the jar door like a giant stop sign. She was still beautiful with massive locks of bouncy hair. She had aged, perhaps more than Reese, but no wonder, the stench of stale cigarette smoke wafted out the front door. She had acquired hips where Reese still sported a boyish physique. Heather tugged tight at the opening of her thick hot pink bathrobe and got rid of the fake grin.

“I was about to take a shower,” she announced matter of fact. “Can we visit another time?”

Reese snarled her lip at Heather and drew out the word, “No.” Reese placed her palm on the door but didn’t push. She didn’t want Heather freaking out and calling the cops. “Aren’t you just a little curious as to why I show up on your doorstep after nearly thirty years?”

“Well, of course I am.” Heather shrugged her shoulders forward in a timid fashion. “But …”

“But nothing, Heather. Come on. Let me in. Lucy might be in trouble now.”

Heather stiffened. Back her shoulders went and any trace of a possible smile flattened to a terse scowl. “What did you do to her?”

“Excuse me?” Reese was genuinely appalled at the question.

“Why did you get involved? I told her not to talk to you about this anymore. And now you think she might be in trouble. What have you done?”

“Oh for God’s sakes, Heather, I didn’t do anything. But if I’m going to find her and Addie, you need to start talking.”

“Find her? She’s in her bed sleeping.” Heather promptly turned and headed into the interior of the house. Reese pushed open the door wide and let herself in, shutting it behind her.

Heather’s scream was muffled and when Reese ran up behind her, she found Heather with her robe sleeve and knuckles jammed into her mouth, stifling the cry. Reese stood on tiptoes and peered over Heather’s shoulder. The bed was haphazardly made and definitely empty.

“She came to see me this morning. She must have left without you knowing.” Reese didn’t bother to say it in a calming, nurturing way. She just simply stated it.

She lowered herself to the flat of her feet and backed away. Heather turned and pulled the sleeve out of her mouth, stuffing her hands into the oversized front pockets. Her face was drawn and she looked weary. “She won’t give up. No matter how many times I tell her Addie will be okay.”

Reese cocked her head. “Why do you say Addie will be okay?”

“Because … mother’s intuition.” Heather lowered her head and skirted around Reese. She walked away but Reese followed her. They went into the kitchen where Heather plopped down into a chair at the small dinette set where a cup of coffee and a still smoldering ashy cigarette waited for her. She crushed the stub of the butt and lit a new one, never looking at Reese.

Reese slid into the closet chair to Heather. “Heather, what are you not saying? How do you know Addie is okay? Do you know where she is?”

Heather turned her head away from Reese, avoiding any possible accidental eye contact. “Why do you want to know?”

“Look, I didn’t come into this situation uninvited. Lucy asked for my help.”

“Why would she do that? She shouldn’t have.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” Heather sucked on her cigarette which trembled from her shaking hand.

“That’s not an answer.”

Heather spun her head toward Reese, hair flailing in the semi-circle motion. “Did you say you have to find Lucy? Is she missing?”

Now Reese wanted to look away, but she didn’t. “She was in my office, and now she isn’t.” She opted to leave the blood detail out. She didn’t know enough to share anyway. She didn’t want Lucy’s mother getting all upset, possibly over a nosebleed.

Heather looked down at her cigarette and then absent-mindedly waved the smoke, as if it would help. Her face reddened as if she might cry.

“Heather?” Reese conjured a friendly voice, a “you-can-trust-me” voice. She needed to stay focused on the girls’ well-being but her heart had hurt for so many years. She needed to know. “Did you move away because you were pregnant?”

One tear rolled down Heather’s cheek and dropped onto the table top. Reese watched its descent and then looked back at Heather. She placed a hand on Heather’s one free hand.

Heather nodded. “Lucy doesn’t know how young I was. You didn’t tell her, did you?”

“No. I didn’t tell her. I wasn’t even sure myself. Is Wayne her father?” Please, please let it be Wayne and not Mr. Albreck or Gregory.

Heather looked up startled. “Why would you ask that?”

Reese shrugged. “She kind of looks like him.”

Heather pulled her hand away from Reese. “I never had sex with Wayne.” She sounded disgusted. “I was in love with your brother. You really need to mind your own business.”

Reese had a few choice words sitting on the tip of her tongue, but a phone rang. Heather stood and went to a pocketbook hanging on the back door knob. The cigarette dangled from her lips as she unzipped the bag and extracted a cell phone. She looked at the caller ID and appeared relieved as she slid her thumb across the screen. With her other hand, she tossed the cigarette into the kitchen sink and leaned against it.

“Lucy, oh thank God you are ok,” Heather sighed. Then she listened.

Reese watched as Heather’s relaxed shoulders rolled into a tight posture. She lowered her head and stared at her perfectly manicured bare feet. She glanced at Reese and the scowl on her face reminded Reese of a nature show she watched once where a mother wolf snarled while guarding her pups.  

“I don’t know where she is. Tell him that. I really don’t know,” Heather said frantically.

Reese fought the urge to jump from her seat, but she quickly lost the battle and was suddenly standing next to Heather. She tried to listen to the call, but Heather kept the phone snug to her ear.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll tell her. Please don’t go …” She looked at her phone, horrified. She started to slam it onto the countertop, but Reese grabbed her wrist.

“Don’t break it,” was all Reese said, suspecting Heather would be getting another phone call soon. Heather dropped the phone into Reese’s hand and started pacing in quick, jagged steps. She was mumbling and crying, on the verge of a hysterical melt down.

Reese approached her gently and once again reached for her wrist. “Was that Lucy?” She asked, putting her face close to Heather as to force them to look at each other

Heather nodded and the flood of tears broke loose. Her whole body trembled and she leaned into Reese. Reese embraced her best friend from decades before and swaddled her as best she could as she walked her back to the table. She helped Heather into a chair and when Heather’s hands couldn’t stop shaking enough to light a cigarette, Reese took the lighter and held it steady in front of her.

Reese sat in the chair she had just leapt from and scooted closer to Heather. “Tell me what that call was about, Heather.”

“You,” Heather sucked in two gasps of air. “Have to.” She paused again to pull on oxygen in spurts. “Leave.”

Reese was confused. “No, I don’t. I can stay here and help you with this.”

Heather violently shook her head. “He’ll kill her,” she said. She was still catching her breath, but she managed to spill all the words out so fast that it took Reese a few seconds to decipher them.

“Why would someone kill Lucy?” Reese felt like a rock sprung from a slingshot.

“You have to go. Now! He knows you’re here. He doesn’t want you talking to us anymore.”

“Who is ‘he’?” Reese was getting down right pissed.

“Who do you think?” Heather was nearly screaming now and rising from her chair.

“I don’t know,” Reese looked up to Heather who was getting too close. “Mr. Albreck?”

“Mr. Albreck? Are you out of your mind, Reese?” Heather grabbed Reese’s arm and yanked her from the chair. “Get the fuck out of my house!”

“Heather?” Reese tried to look back at her childhood friend but Heather was shoving her to the front door.

“Get out! You’re going to get my daughters killed you fucking bitch!”

Reese whacked at Heather’s now flailing hands to keep from taking a blow. Then she snatched Heather’s arms and steadied her. “This is insane. Why isn’t it Mr. Albreck? Help me understand, Heather. Who’s threatening to kill your daughters?”

Heather appeared crossed between disgusted and frightened. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” Reese said beseechingly.

“Mr. Albreck is dead. They found his body almost two weeks ago. They think he’s been dead for decades. Reports say he was shot to death.”

Reese felt her face go ashen. She needed to sit but Heather pushed her toward the door again, but more gently this time. “You have to leave Reese. He’s going to kill my girls if I don’t stop talking to you.”

Reese nodded. She stumbled to the doorway and turned to look at Heather one last time. She started to say something, but then Heather said, “Leave. Please. And whatever you do, don’t call the police. Let me handle this.”

Reese nodded again and walked out to an overcast day. She thought about the gun she dropped into the creek all those years ago. She pictured her father in a drunken stupor with the same gun at his waist saying he was responsible for Luke’s death.

“Oh Dad, what did you do?” She said.