Pray for the Girl by Joseph Souza

Author:Joseph Souza
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2019-02-12T05:00:00+00:00

20

I PULL UP ALONGSIDE THE ROAD AND MAKE MY WAY DOWN TO THE ENTRANCE to Robinson Woods. It’s startling how many memories come rushing back as I approach it. I feel like a kid again, getting ready to run for hours on end, searching for frogs and playing tag and Relievio with my friends. But this time there’ll be no fun and games.

A sign at the entrance to the trail indicates that these woods are now part of a land trust and can’t be developed. I make my way past the sign and see the familiar rocks and trees that once framed our youthful activities. On one of these trunks I’d carved a heart with Nadia’s and my initials in it, but I’ll be damned if I could find it now. The deeper I travel into these woods, the more thankful I am that I put on my long sleeve cardigan sweater and knee-high leather boots with the steel toes. The terrain gets rockier, gnarled with tree roots and vines. For a normal thirty-three-year-old, walking along this trail would be of no consequence. But I’m not normal in any sense of the word.

Jaxon used to dart in and out of these woods, jumping off boulders and leaping over puddles of mud, running all day without losing his breath. I remember how he and his friends would pick up large branches and then engage in furious sword fights, pretending to slay dragons and evil demons until someone pretended to die.

The light nearly disappears on account of the canopy of leaves swaying gently above. The leaves are just starting to change color, and soon the purples and reds will dominate the landscape.

I’m sore and out of breath by the time I reach the dozen or so gravestones scattered between the trees. They’re flaked, thin wafers sticking up out of the ground at odd angles. Even after all these years they seem out of place in this wooded setting. I park myself on a large boulder and wait. In my pocket sits the trusty boning knife for good measure. Although its effectiveness is limited in many ways, I feel safer knowing it’s with me.

I’d forgotten how far into the trail these tombstones are located. The girl must really be frightened if she wants to meet me here, where no one will see or hear us. Maybe she really does know something about these murders, and maybe that information might break these cases wide open. The thought that I might be able to learn new facts about them gives me hope.

But a strange feeling comes over me after ten minutes pass. Is it intuition? A foreboding that I’m in imminent danger and was directed here for a distinct reason? I can’t seem to shrug it off. I stand, the pain in my lower legs leaving me momentarily immobile. In agony, I fall back on the boulder, my legs throbbing. This is the cruel joke my body sometimes likes to play on me. In moments of extreme stress, a menacing phantom pain strikes capriciously and without reason.

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