Kevin O'Brien - One Last Scream

Jessie had left the McMillans’ number by the phone in the kitchen. Karen went in there, and called him.

George picked up on the second ring. “Hi, Jessie.”

Karen balked. “Um, this isn’t Jessie. It’s Karen Carlisle.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Your name came up on the caller ID, but I just figured it was Jessie.”

“No, it’s-it’s me, Karen,” she said, feeling awkward. “I hope I’m not interrupting your dinner.”

“No, we just finished. It was spaghetti, the only thing I know how to cook that my kids like. What can I do for you, Karen?”

“I’m wondering if you know where Amelia is. I’ve been trying to get ahold of her.”

“She’s incommunicado right now,” George replied. “Shane phoned earlier today, all worried about her. He just called back an hour ago. Amelia’s roommate said she mentioned something this morning about needing to get away. It looks like she just took off someplace for the weekend. She used to pull this on her parents every once in a while, and it drove them crazy. I hope she’s not drinking again. She was doing so well this week, considering everything she’s been through.”

“Listen, would you mind if I came by tonight? I need to talk with you, and I don’t want to discuss this over the phone.”

“No problem, Karen,” he said. “When can I expect you?”

“I’m leaving the house right now.”

“I had a bellyful of Koehler myself,” George said. He stood at the kitchen sink, scrubbing a saucepan. Karen stood beside him with a dishtowel in her hand. Despite George’s protests, she’d insisted on helping him clean up. His daughter, Stephanie, was in bed, playing with her stuffed animals. Jody and a neighbor friend were watching TV downstairs.

“When he came by yesterday, I thought it was official police business,” George continued. “So I let him in, and talked to him for a while. But then Koehler started in about Amelia, saying she could have killed her parents and my wife. He even insinuated that Amelia and I could have been having an affair. He pointed out that, after all, she isn’t a blood relative, and niece or no niece, a hot-looking 19-year-old is hard to pass up. That’s when I threw him out on his ass.”

He handed Karen the saucepan. “Then I called Dennis,” he said. “Dennis Goodwin, he was that detective who was here last Saturday. We drove to Wenatchee together. He turned out to be a pretty nice guy. I could tell he liked me, or at least felt sorry for me. He told me Koehler’s on leave-”

“ Paternity leave,” Karen interjected. “His wife just had a baby.”

“Mazel tov,” George grunted. “Anyway, apparently Koehler thinks he’ll make a big name for himself if he cracks this case wide open. He was talking to another cop about the potential for a book deal and movie rights. Anyway, he’s not afraid of treading on anyone’s toes on the force, because he’s very well connected with the powers that be. I guess I didn’t do myself any good by pissing him off, but I really don’t care.”

“Do you mean that?” Karen asked, studying him.

He let out a little laugh. “Well, actually I am a bit worried about what he might do. I’m thinking about Amelia, mostly.”

Karen nodded. “So am I. Remember what we talked about last week? It took a lot of persuading on my part to assure Amelia she didn’t kill her parents, and your wife. I’m not sure exactly how much I succeeded in convincing her. She’s probably still pretty confused. If Koehler goes to work on her, God knows what she’ll end up telling him.”

“Then he’ll go to the media, and make Amelia out to be a deranged killer.” George reached over and turned off the water. “God, I don’t want my kids to read that.”

Karen said nothing for a moment. Gnawing away at her was the idea that it could be true about Amelia. She dried off her hands, then folded up the dishtowel. “Listen, something happened to me when I went to visit my father in the rest home today. It involves Amelia…”

They sat down at the kitchen table, and she told George about her bizarre, scary experience in the basement storage room. She explained her reluctance to diagnose Amelia as having a split personality, and asked if he’d ever noticed any abrupt behavioral changes in his niece. “Not just mood swings,” Karen clarified. “But a total shift in her persona, when she might have sounded or even looked different to you.”

He shrugged. “I don’t remember ever seeing Amelia act like anybody except Amelia. Ina never said anything to me about personality shifts, and she and Amelia were pretty close this last year. Mark and Jenna never mentioned anything either. I…” He hesitated. “Wait a sec. You know, Collin said something to me about a month before he died. He and some friends were eating lunch on the bleachers at his school in Bellingham, when he spotted Amelia watching them from across the street. He called to her, and she started to walk away. It struck him as weird, because Amelia was supposed to be in Seattle, and he usually knew when she was coming home to visit. Anyway, when he caught up with her, Amelia acted like a total stranger, he said.”

“You mean she didn’t recognize him?” Karen asked.

“No, she knew who he was, all right. They talked for a minute or two, then Amelia said she had to go and asked Collin not to tell their parents that she’d been there. I remember Collin saying to me, ‘I felt like Amelia was a different person.’ He said she didn’t seem drunk or anything. She just didn’t seem like his sister. Collin was spending the weekend here when he told me this story.” George let out a sad sigh. “Huh. You know, that weekend was the last time I saw him.”

Karen was about to reach over and put her hand over his, but she hesitated. She cleared her throat. “Um, I don’t know much about multiple personality disorder. We’d have to get Amelia to a specialist. We also have to prepare ourselves for the awful possibility that Koehler is right about Amelia.”

George frowned. “Do you really think she could have killed her own parents-and my wife? I know my niece, and she could never-”

“Yes, I agree with you,” Karen cut in. “The Amelia we know isn’t capable of murder. I’m saying there could be another person inside Amelia we don’t know. Maybe this other Amelia was in the rest home earlier today. Maybe she’s the one Collin spotted outside his high school that time. Collin said she was like a stranger. We don’t know this other Amelia either. We don’t know what she’s capable of.”

George slowly shook his head. “I can’t believe it. I mean, Jesus, I’ve had her here alone with the kids this week. Are you sure?”

“I’m just saying it’s a possibility we have to consider. In fact, one reason I wanted to stop by tonight was to borrow a photo of Amelia, any recent photo of her that you might have. I want to post it at the nurses’ station in my dad’s rest home so they’ll keep a lookout for her. You probably think I’m overreacting.”

“No, not at all,” he said. “We have plenty of family pictures. I’ll make sure you get a current one of Amelia before you leave tonight.”

“Thank you, George,” she said, sitting back in the kitchen chair. “About Amelia, I’d like to get her to someone more qualified in multiple personality disorder. I’ve never had a true MPD case. There are theories it can be caused by an early childhood trauma. But that’s just a theory. And Amelia’s early childhood is still a mystery to us. I really-”

“God, I forgot to call and tell you,” he interrupted. “I was up at Mark and Jenna’s house in Bellingham the day before yesterday with Amelia, and I found the adoption papers.” He got to his feet. “They’re in my study. I’m not sure how much help they’ll be.”