out of the station, we’re partners.
“Mally tore the house up looking for it, after everyone was killed. As a matter of fact, I remember she never let me back into the house even after it was cleaned up. Gail Montgomery was always offering to help, and Mally took me to Gail’s house so that she could look for the doll on her own. I cried for weeks. If I couldn’t have my mommy, I wanted my doll. Mally bought me a new one, but it was a different kind, and it wasn’t the one my mom gave me.”
She steps closer to it but doesn’t touch it. “I think it’s wearing the same clothes from before the murders.” She bolts to her desk, pulling out a photo album. “Here, look at this.” Stewart and I peer over her shoulders. “This was three days before…well, you know…the murders.” She pauses. “It was Cabe’s birthday, and Mom wanted a picture with all of us.” She points at the picture where she’s holding the same doll, and Malia’s right. It’s the same outfit, down to the cowboy boots the doll has on her feet. “See, right here. I swear I’ve not seen this doll in over eleven years.”
“Besides your roommate, does anyone else have access to this room?” Stewart asks.
“Um, I don’t think so. Maybe the RA, I’m not sure, but..” She stops, her finger tapping the temple of her head. “When I got home yesterday, the door was cracked, and Greenlyn was listening to music through headphones. I had to yell to get her attention.”
“I made a phone call on the way here to get her pulled from practice. We’ll ask her when she gets here, but for now, I don’t think you should stay.”
Her hands find passage to her hips. “I sure as fuck won’t allow some sick psycho to dictate my life. Do you know the hell I went through in countless hours of therapy to get my life in order to a point I could function outside of the four walls of the home Mally made for me in Eugene?”
It’s instinctual for me to pull her into an embrace and comfort her. I don’t look at Stewart’s reaction or care at this point. The only person who matters is in my arms.
“What?” Tears fall down Malia’s roommate’s face. “Someone came into our room?” She slaps her hand over her mouth. “Oh, no, I left the door open.”
“It’s okay.” Stewart kneels in front of her. “It’s okay. No one would have guessed that this psychopath would violate your living space.”
He’s always a sucker for a pretty blonde. “I guess I may have left the door open when I went to the bathroom.” She turns her attention to Malia. “I’m sorry—so fucking sorry.” She begins to let the waterworks flow, and it’s Stewart again who is comforting Greenlyn.
Malia is still in shock, but her eyes stay focused on Greenlyn. “It’s okay. I mean, now you know what you’ve gotten into with me.” Her statement has regret written all over it with her low pitch. “You didn’t sign up for this. I think it’s best that maybe they put you with a new roommate.”
Greenlyn stands. “No, Mal, it’s not you. I’m not letting some sick fuck dictate where I’ll live, so you’re stuck with me.”
It was then her Barbie-like roommate earned many points in my book.
She sips her Dr. Pepper as we pull off I-5 in the sleepy little town of Burlington. I maneuver to Highway 20 as I continue toward Deception Pass. “Do you want to stop and get a bite to eat?” I ask.
“I packed some snacks and a cooler, so I think we’re good,” she replies. The hiking trails around the pass are the best, and of course, nothing is better than walking over the bridge.
I have to give it to the girl. When I picked her up in her dorm room, she had a small cooler packed. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. She’s in a pair of jean shorts, again showing a little bit of her ample ass I want to squeeze, and a low top tank top. I wonder if this is all she owns. I have the urge to lean over and squeeze her knee to massage her smooth sun-kissed legs.
“So,” she begins, and I brace myself for whatever will come out of her mouth. “Why aren’t you dating anyone?”
“What?” I let the words hit me, and sure enough, she’s poking around in my love life.