Page 4 of The First Hunt (The Final Hunt)

JOHN

J ohn opened the lid to the kitchen garbage can but stopped before scraping what was left on his plate into the trash.

In the next room, his dad hollered over the roar of Thursday night football playing on the TV.

The Seahawks must have scored. John set his plate on the Formica counter and glanced at his dad in his recliner, making sure his father’s attention was still glued to the football game before he lifted the Tribune out of the trash.

The front page was stained with sloppy joe sauce but mostly still legible.

John held his breath as he scanned the headlines.

Washington’s inauguration of Governor Booth Gardner.

The Green River Killer on the loose. Boeing experiencing downturns from the recession.

Ever since his dad had attacked Sally and left her in those woods, John had been scouring the news, terrified Sally’s body would be discovered, and his dad would go to prison. Even worse, get the death penalty.

Most days, John had time to read the newspaper after school in the hour he spent alone before his dad got home from Boeing. But Thursdays, John had chess club after school, and by the time he walked home afterward, his dad was already home. John glanced up at his dad before turning the page.

Sally’s disappearance never even made the news—not like the twenty-year-old waitress who went missing earlier this month, whose disappearance had already been splashed across the front page three times.

Even though the waitress wasn’t a prostitute, the articles speculated she could be another victim of the Green River Killer.

In the days after his father attacked Sally, John worried his dad was the infamous Green River Killer.

Then John went to the library and searched the Tribune articles from the summer of 1982.

His dad had taken him camping on Mount Rainier for his fortieth birthday, the same week three of the Green River Killer victims had gone missing and were then found floating in the Green River.

The memory of Sally running petrified—and naked—through the woods, screaming for help, flashed in his mind. The image of him, standing there like a coward, doing nothing to save her, was seared in his brain. He forced the image away and tried to focus his thoughts on the newspaper.

John felt his shoulders relax after he read through the local crime section.

Maybe Sally was still alive. A lump formed in John’s throat, remembering her crooked, bright-lipstick smile.

But then why didn’t she go to the police?

Maybe she was too scared. Plus, she’d have to tell them why she’d gotten into his dad’s car.

John was pretty sure they’d put someone like her in jail.

He looked up and watched his dad take a swig from his beer. Sally couldn’t have been the first woman his father had attacked. How many had there been before Sally? Is that what his parents argued about before his mom died?

Mostly, John wanted to know why his dad killed Sally.

But John was too afraid his questions might awaken the monster he’d seen chasing Sally through those woods.

What had Sally done to turn his father into that evil beast?

Ever since that day, John had been tiptoeing around the house, making sure he obeyed all his father’s rules to the letter, careful not to slip up even once.

John turned and plugged the sink before setting his plate in the bottom and turning on the faucet.

The monster John had seen in those woods wasn’t the same father John knew.

Thick, red-orange swirls of sloppy joe sauce curled through the water, twisting and unraveling like the confusing thoughts in his head.

His dad could be harsh and strict, but John knew that his father cared about him.

This made him wonder if Sally had done something bad to deserve what his father had done… like his mother.

“We bring you breaking news tonight after a body was discovered earlier this evening in Riverview by a jogger who noted a foul odor while running along the forested trails at Soundway Park.”

John turned toward the TV, where a familiar blond newscaster filled the screen. He placed his palms against the counter.

“This discovery comes less than two weeks after the disappearance of twenty-year-old Jennifer Duran. However, police believe the victim has been deceased for closer to one month.”

John’s gaze darted toward his dad in the recliner. He appeared strangely calm, ankles crossed, taking another swig from his beer.

“Police have confirmed the body is female, but they are unable to provide an identification at this time. A source tells us it is possible the body could be that of a prostitute who went missing last month after being last seen getting into a car on Aurora Avenue.”

John’s heart beat into his throat. They’d found her. Sally was dead. His dad would go to prison. I’ll probably end up as a foster kid. An even more horrifying thought ran through his mind. What if the police find out I was in the car too? Would they arrest me for not telling anyone?

John’s fears changed to anger as he stared at the TV. How could his father do this to him?

“While the police investigation into this apparent homicide is just beginning, detectives did confirm this woman is most likely a victim of the Green River Killer, who is still at large and believed to have killed over thirty women in the last three years.”

A hand clamped onto his shoulder. John jumped.

“Hey.”

John spun around.

“Watch what you’re doing.”

His father turned off the faucet as water overflowed from the kitchen sink, spilling down the front of the oak cabinets. He handed John a towel, looking surprisingly calm after the mess John made. He’d been slapped for a lot less.

His dad smiled. “I could go for some ice cream. You?”

John nodded even though his sloppy joe had crept back up to the top of his throat.

His dad clapped his palms together after returning the stained newspaper to the trash. “Great. Clean this up and let’s go out. How about Baskin-Robbins?”

“Sure,” John heard himself say.

“Don’t worry, John,” his dad said as if reading his mind. “Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll grab our coats.” His dad whistled as he waltzed out of the kitchen.

I’ve been worried for nothing, John thought as he wiped the water off the cabinets. When the police finally did catch the Green River Killer, they’d blame him for Sally’s murder too.

A ripple of pride flowed through John. How smart his father had been.

Much smarter than John had given him credit for.

John pulled the rubber plug out from the bottom of the sink.

As he watched the water go down the drain, he saw Sally’s lipsticked smile when she’d grinned at him in the backseat.

Then the image morphed, and her eyes took on a look of terror as his father chased her, naked, through the woods.

John turned away from the sink, suppressing a shudder as he tried to erase the image from his thoughts.

Instead, he tried to make himself believe his father’s words: Everything’s going to be fine. Even as he tried, he knew he’d never be able to unsee that terrible moment. Sally’s horror would be forever stuck in his mind.