Brian Freeman - The Night Bird

Just like it had been on January 1.

She tried to remember, but all she saw in her mind was her father below her, dead eyes staring back where he’d fallen. Everything else — how they got there, what she said, what she did — was blank. Jason knew, but Jason was lying. She didn’t believe him; she didn’t think her father had killed himself. Something else happened. And Todd knew what it was.

He’d listened through the spy software on her phone as Frankie’s memory was wiped away, like a wave erasing footprints on the sand. She had to know what he’d heard.

The trail dipped. The scrub brush of the flatlands disappeared briefly as she sank into a nest of trees. When she climbed out of it, she could see the path hugging the cliffs, with all the low vegetation shivering in the wind.

There he was.

She didn’t know where he’d come from, but now he was directly ahead of her, no more than fifty yards away. His back was to her. He faced the water.

“I see him,” Frankie murmured.

“Say again. You’re breaking up.”

“I see him.”

Todd had tramped away from the trail through the brush to the fragile clifftop. Bits of wet dirt trickled away under his feet toward the beach. Blooms of California poppies dotted the land around him like orange drips of paint. He wore no coat, just a gray sweatshirt and jeans. His thinning hair blew back over his forehead. His eyes looked out into the distance of the ocean, but he knew she was there.

“Where is he?”

“At the cliff.”

“Stay away from him. Let us take it from here.”

“No, I can’t do that,” she said.

In her ear, Frost swore. She knew he was running, but they were far behind her. Frost, Jess, the police officers, the helicopters, all were minutes away. For now, she and Todd had the cliff to themselves.

She left the path and pushed through the sandy soil. The wind nearly lifted her body from the ground. The waves and the gales screamed. So did the white-and-black gulls, hovering gracefully on the currents of air beyond the cliff, as if to taunt those who couldn’t fly.

Todd’s head swiveled as she approached him. He stared at her with his dreamy eyes, but now she could see what was behind those eyes. Loss. Tragedy. Madness. And more than anything else, anger. Fury at the world. Fury at her.

“Fran-kie,” he chanted, using the Night Bird’s voice. “Fran-kie.”

She felt an instant chill. She was conscious of the long drop beside her. In both directions, up and down the coast, she saw no one at all.

“I know who you are,” she told him, raising her voice to be heard over the wind.

He shook his head. When he spoke, he used his own voice again, and she had to come closer to hear him. They were near enough that he could have sent her off the cliff with a swipe of his hand. “You don’t have any idea who I am.”

“You’re Todd Farley. You were in love with Merrilyn Somers. I’m sorry. Really, Todd. I hate what you’ve done, but I’m sorry, too. I know you lost someone you loved. I know the pain you must have felt.”

“Todd Farley is who I was ,” he replied. “That’s not who I am anymore. I’m someone different.”

She wondered if Frost could hear him talking, or if the wind drowned Todd’s soft voice.

“Merrilyn would hate that,” Frankie said.

“Don’t pretend that you understand me, and don’t you dare mention her name. You made me what I am now. You. Darren Newman. And the worthless police who couldn’t even put him behind bars. All of you — you’re the ones to blame. You can crucify me if you want, but everyone who died is because of you. You’re the guilty ones.”

“I’m not saying I’m innocent,” she told him. “I made a mistake about Darren Newman.”

“Well, we all have to pay for our mistakes,” Todd said. He stared along the length of the headlands in both directions. “I imagine we have about five minutes before the police get here?”

She didn’t try to lie. “Yes, they’re coming. You can’t get away.”

“I don’t care about getting away.”

“I figured that,” she said.

“Are they listening to us?”

Frankie nodded. “Yes.”

“You know how easy it would be to throw you from this cliff, right?” he said.

“Frankie, get away. Run. Right now. Run.”

She heard Frost in her ear, but she didn’t move. “Is that what you want?”

Todd turned and faced the ocean again. “I told you that I wanted to watch you die, but it was supposed to be one of your patients who plunged in the knife. I thought you would appreciate the irony, having your methods turned against you. Just like I did with those other women. First I wanted to destroy you. Your career. Your reputation. And then I wanted to watch that girl kill you right in front of me. One more second, and she would have done it.”

“And Darren Newman?”

Todd moved as swiftly as a cat. He spun toward her and slid both arms under hers and locked her torso against his chest. She fought, but she couldn’t move. His face was an inch away. He bent to her ear and whispered in a voice that dripped malevolence. “That was all me . Do you really think I’d come this far and let anyone else put a blade down through that monster’s flesh and bone? Do you think I wouldn’t take my revenge on him myself? That I wouldn’t feel his heart slice open under my hand? That I wouldn’t be there to do to him what he did to Merrilyn?”

Todd let go, and she stumbled backward, taking a step away from him. She was breathing hard. She had her chance now. She could turn and run. But they both knew she wouldn’t do that.

“That’s not why you’re here, is it, Frankie?” Todd asked.

“No.”

“No, you have to know the truth. You’d risk my killing you to find out what you forgot. To get your memory back. Imagine that, Dr. Frankenstein . You play your little mind games with everyone else, as if there are no consequences to having part of your soul erased like a defective silicon chip. Well, now you know what it’s really like, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she spat at him through clenched teeth.

“Tell me what you want to know. Ask me.”

“What happened to my father?” Frankie asked.

“What do you think happened to him?”

She closed her eyes. The wind roared. She reached for something, anything, any fragment of reality. “He killed himself,” she said.

“You know that’s not true. Is that what your husband wants you to believe? You know it’s a lie.”

“What happened to him?” she asked again.

“You already know,” Todd told her. “Somewhere deep inside, you know. That’s why you wanted to forget it, but you can’t, can you?”

“Tell me,” she repeated.

“Your father was murdered ,” Todd told her. “He didn’t fall. He didn’t jump. He was pushed.”

Frost stopped running. Jess stopped two steps ahead of him and looked back. “What is it? What did you hear?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. The wind keeps cutting out the mic.”

She didn’t believe him. “What the hell is going on out there, Frost?”

He ignored her and barked into the microphone of his headset. “ Frankie. I know you can hear me. Get away from him right now. We’re coming in from both sides. We’ll have a chopper and sharpshooter overhead in seconds, but we need you out of there.”

He listened. The microphone on the other end was still live. He heard Frankie through the static, but she wasn’t listening to him. She was caught up in the story that Todd was telling her. It didn’t matter whether it was true.

“Did I...?” she murmured.

Frost shouted. “Frankie, he’s lying to you. Get out of there! He’s playing games with your head, and then he’s going to kill you.”