Lisa Jackson - Most Likely To Die

“Thank you. We certainly think she’s a little beauty.” Mandy waved at her neighbor but kept pushing Emily along. As much as she loved Mrs. Johnson, once in a conversation with her, you might be trapped for a good twenty or thirty minutes.

Moving at a steady pace, Mandy reached the neighborhood park in five minutes. As she strolled along the brick sidewalk shaded by towering trees and lined with colorful summer flowers, she remembered how often she had jogged through here in the past and spotted mothers with their young children. Oh, how she had envied those women. But now, with the blessing of Emily, she was one of them. A mother.

When they reached the kiddie swings, Mandy removed Emily from the stroller and set her in one of the swings, double-checking the safety harness. Only one other parent and toddler were using the swings. Mandy recognized the divorced dad who had gotten custody of his two-year-old.

“Hi, Tim.” Mandy waved at her neighbor, who lived in a two-story Colonial only three houses down from her.

“Afternoon,” he replied. “You two might not get to stay long. I think we’re going to get some rain. Joey and I are heading out in a few minutes.”

Before Tim and Joey left for home, Mandy and Tim chatted about their children, about this year’s Rose Festival, and about the Neighborhood Watch. When the wind picked up and the sky grew darker, Mandy considered leaving despite the fact that they had just arrived. But Emily was enjoying herself so much, Mandy decided to give them a few more minutes. After all, windy and gloomy didn’t necessarily mean rain. Not in Portland.

Ten minutes later, Mandy realized the park was all but deserted. Time to go. As she released the swing’s safety harness, she felt the first drop of rain.

“Drat.” She removed Emily from the swing-despite her pouting protest-slipped her into the stroller, and then pulled the umbrella from the pouch. When she tried to open the umbrella, the strong wind blew it inside out. As she struggled with the unruly umbrella, she felt someone approach her from behind. A long-fingered hand reached out and grabbed for the umbrella handle. Mandy cried out, horrible thoughts flashing through her mind. She released the umbrella, whirled around, and grasped the handlebars of the collapsible stroller, intending to run.

“Mandy, it’s all right,” a familiar voice said. “It’s me.”

She glanced over her shoulder. With her heartbeat roaring in her ears and her pulse racing like mad, she gasped for air when she recognized the person standing behind her, working diligently to turn Mandy’s umbrella right side out.

What is she doing on this side of town, in this park, at this time of day?

“You really shouldn’t be out here with a storm brewing.” She handed the umbrella to Mandy as small, soft raindrops peppered down from the sky.

“Emily loves our afternoons in the park so much that I hate for her to miss them.”

Why is she staring at me that way? Mandy wondered. There’s something odd about her being here and something strange about the way she’s acting.

“Well, you’d better head for home now. As it is, you’re going to get drenched.”

A streak of cloud-to-ground lightning zigzagged through the sky behind them. Mandy gasped. When the deafening boom of thunder followed, Emily let out a yelp and then started crying.

Clutching the umbrella in one hand and the stroller handle in the other, Mandy glanced back and said, “You’re right. We’d better head for home. See you later.” Every instinct Mandy had screamed, “Get away. Run. Run for your life.”

Don’t be ridiculous. You two have known each other since high school. You’re on the reunion committee together. She’s not the type of person who could kill another.

Or is she? It’s not as if you two have stayed close all these years.

Just as she gave the stroller a quick push, intending to flee, Mandy suddenly realized it was already too late. Something came down and around her from behind, circled her throat and jerked her backward. She clawed at the silk scarf tightening around her neck, but the harder she fought, the more powerful her attacker’s hold became, strong and fierce enough to subdue her.

How could I have been such a fool? Why didn’t I stay home today? Why didn’t I try to get the Mace out of the diaper bag? Are you listening, God? Don’t let her kill me. Please, I don’t want to die! What will happen to Emily if I die?

Rachel stood in the doorway of police headquarters and watched the late-afternoon thunderstorm. She really hated getting out in this mess, but she had promised Aunt Laraine she’d come home early today. They planned to go shopping for Uncle Charlie’s birthday present while he attended his Shriners meeting.

“Need to borrow an umbrella?” Dean asked as he walked up beside her.

“No, thanks, I brought one with me.”

He skimmed his gaze over her. “Where is it?”

She huffed. “In my car.”

He chuckled.

“Why don’t I walk you to your car?” He popped open a large black umbrella.

“Hey, McMichaels,” the desk sergeant called.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Dean replied.

“Call for you.” He held up the telephone receiver. “It’s the chief. He said to ask you why you aren’t answering your cell phone.”

Dean patted his belt where he usually kept his cell phone, then groaned when he realized it wasn’t there. “Wait for me, okay?” He handed her the umbrella.

Rachel waited. Not because she had promised she would. Not because she wanted Dean to walk her to her car, but because she was curious as to why Uncle Charlie had called Dean.

After closing the umbrella, she walked over to where Dean stood talking quietly to Charlie.

“I must have left the damn thing upstairs on my desk.” Dean listened then, frowning at whatever Charlie had told him.

Rachel could tell by the expression on his face that something was wrong. Her gut tightened. Dean groaned as if he were in pain. Whatever had happened, it must be something terrible.

“Yeah, she’s still here. I’ll tell her.” Pause. “No, I can’t do that.”

Rachel tugged on Dean’s arm and when he looked at her, she mouthed the question What is going on?

“Yes. I know. I understand,” Dean said to Charlie. “So the baby is fine, right?” Pause. “No way we can ignore the implications, not this time.”

Dean handed the phone back to the desk sergeant, then turned to face Rachel.

“What? Who?” she asked.

He grasped her shoulders. She sucked in a deep breath, waiting for the news the way a condemned prisoner awaits execution.

“Mandy Kim-Mandy Stulz’s body was found in her neighborhood park thirty minutes ago. It appears she was strangled.”

At first Rachel couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. Stunned by the news and yet at the same time not completely surprised, she stared at Dean. Then she started trembling. He ran his hands down her arms and back up again.

“Rachel?”

“Yes. I-I heard you. Why were you asking Uncle Charlie about Emily?”

“Emily?”

“Mandy’s baby.”

“Oh, the baby. She’s fine. Someone found her alone in the park, in her stroller, screaming like a banshee. When this person looked around for the baby’s mother, she found Mandy’s body behind some bushes.”

“It’s happened.” Rachel’s voice sounded odd, even to her own ears. Solemn. Soulful. Sad. “The person who called me has killed again.”

“We can’t be certain of that. Not until all the facts are in.” He squeezed her shoulders.

“I know it.” She placed her fist over her belly. “I know it in here. The person who killed Haylie and Aurora and tried to kill Lindsay in New York is the same person who killed Mandy.”