Page 47 of Traces of Kara

“The zoo. That was him. I remember his scars.”

Mimi flushed. Fresh tears welled in her eyes. “It was an accident.”

Kara’s eyes drifted closed.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Ted’s car idled at the gate of the power plant. The outside lights were off and the building was almost completely black, except for dim illuminations on the second and third floors. “Great,” Ted mumbled. Sheets of rain thundered on the roof of his Acura. He knew Mimi would be a nervous wreck. She hated storms. He dialed Jackson’s cell phone number. There was no answer. He tried again. Three rings, then voicemail.

He thought about Mimi, and the fissure that had developed between them over the years. He knew she thought it had been borne from a dislike for Kara, but that wasn’t the case. He didn’t dislike Kara, he disliked the way she took Mimi for granted, and the way Mimi was so damn overprotective of her. He dialed Mimi’s number—no answer. Great. Ted turned up the radio and let his head fall back against the headrest. He’d try again in a few minutes.

Thunder rolled through the clouds, followed by a shock of lightning, illuminating the massive industrial structure. Ted tried Jackson’s number again. No answer. He pulled the car to the side of the lot, under the branches of the tall trees, where the heft of the rain lessened when filtered through the leaves. Ted looked in the backseat for his umbrella. No such luck.

“Come on, Jackson,” he mumbled, as he dialed Jackson’s number again.

His stomach growled. Ted eyed the bag of sandwiches on the seat beside him. Maybe the rain would let up soon. He opened the bag and took out his sandwich, glancing at the clock. No wonder he was so hungry. It was seven forty-five.

Ted took a bite of the roasted turkey sub and dialed the main number of the plant as he chewed. A static hum came through the line. He finished his sandwich, listening to the cadence of the rain on the roof of the car. Giving up on waiting for the rain to stop, he zipped his jacket, and pulled the hood over his head. Ted opened the door, pushing his shoulders up and tucking his neck, trying to keep the rain from splashing his face.

He pulled on the gate. Locked. Rain soaked through his jacket. Droplets weighed heavily on his eyelashes. He lifted his arm across his forehead and hurried toward the coal yard, peering at the fence that ran the full length of the plant. There was no way in. He hurried back past the gate to the side of the building that ran parallel to the canal. His teeth chattered in the cold. He walked beneath the trees toward the drainpipe at the back of the darkened building. It dawned on him that without power there could be no electricity in the fence. He could scale it around back, where the drainpipe came through the fence, making his climb shorter.

He jogged in the direction of the pipe, the canal flowing loudly beyond the trees. Ted took out his cell phone and tried Jackson’s number again, ducking his head and pushing the phone hard against his ear. Two rings, three. Ted lowered the cell phone, looking for the End button. The ringing continued, faintly filtering through the air from within the fence to his left.

Ted squinted, expecting to see Jackson. No one was there.

“Jackson?” he called out, pressing End on his phone. Silence, save for the driving rain. He looked from left to right, then picked up his phone and dialed again, listening carefully for echoes of the ringing.

Ted clung to the fence, peering into the yard. “Jackson?” he yelled into the darkness. There was no answer. The ringing stopped. He looked at his phone, hit End, then dialed again. He did this three times, following the faint sound of the echoing rings, mostly drowned out by the rain. Jackson must be in the basement, unable to hear me. Thunder crashed around him. Rain soaked his face and body. Intermittent cracks of lightning lit up the sky. The trees behind him swayed with each gust of wind, reaching toward the ground, then bending back like nimble dancers.

“Jackson!” he yelled again.

Ted dragged his hand along the fence as it snaked toward the back. He followed along as it jogged to the left down a slight incline. Ted slipped, his feet heading skyward. He landed on his back in the thick mud.

“Damn it,” he said, and pushed to his feet. He turned toward the parking lot. A noise caught his attention.

“Jackson?” he yelled into the fence. “Let me in. It’s treacherous out here.”

The noise had faded as quickly as it had appeared. Had there been a noise? Between the heavy rain and the flow of the river, he wasn’t altogether sure.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Roland stood in the hallway, listening to the man’s voice calling for Mimi. His hands hurt with each movement. He looked down at them, the hair singed off, the skin red and angry. His whole plan was coming apart. This was supposed to be so easy—grab Marissa, explain his plan for them to be together forever, and carry it out. She was supposed to thank him. Sure, he anticipated her being angry at first, but he thought she’d get past that quickly, and be as relieved as he was to finally be together. Now everything was ruined.

“Mimi?” The man’s unsure voice carried through the hall.

Roland looked around, as if some miracle might swoop the man away. His chest grew tight. He scrunched his face, as if in pain. He didn’t want to kill anymore. Why did that pot-smoking kid have to get in his way? He was just trying to get his sister back. Damn it. Roland began to hyperventilate. He crouched, covering his face with his hands as the footsteps came closer.

“Mimi! Are you here?”

The footsteps stopped just around the corner of the hallway where Roland remained hunched over. He could hear the man breathing. Roland stood, placed his hand against the cold concrete, and listened. He closed his mouth, breathing through his nose and hoping the man couldn’t hear him. Just go away, he thought.

The man took another step toward him.

Roland’s muscles tightened.

“Jackson!” a voice called from far away.

Roland held his breath.