Page 11 of The Fix

Rex couldn’t remember the last time he’d been up this early on a Saturday.

The sun was still only a yellow glow barely perched on top of the horizon.

He pulled the earbuds out of his ears and went from a jog to a walk as an ambulance went shrieking by, breaking the silence of the still morning.

Two squad cars, lights and sirens on, raced behind the ambulance, and then two more zoomed by in the other direction.

What the hell is that? It had to be something serious because Aspen Cove only had two patrol cars, and they’d obviously called in at least one neighboring town.

His breath evened out as he walked the remaining two blocks to the service station at the end of the street that led to his neighborhood. There was an SUV at the pump and a woman was standing against it as she waited. She gave him a tired-looking smile as he passed.

A bell rang over the door to the minimart as he entered, and Rex ran a hand through his sweaty hair as the door swung shut behind him.

“Hey, man,” he said to Damon, who was working the register.

Damon had graduated the year before and worked the night shift here and somewhere else a few days a week, but Rex couldn’t remember where.

Despite being only a year older than him, he already had a wife and three-month-old baby at home.

He lived across the railroad tracks in the one low-income section of town where Rex lived too—a few miles and a world away from the mansion with the Olympic-size swimming pool and the outdoor kitchen where he’d been just yesterday.

Hiding like a loser behind a plant. Jesus, he really wanted to stop reminding himself of that.

“Hey, Rex. What are you doing out so early?”

He grabbed a water bottle from the cooler near the counter and set it down. “Out for a run.”

“Yeah? Since when do you run?”

Rex made a small chuff. “Since today. I’m turning over a new leaf.”

He had less than a year before he’d be off to college, and he’d decided that he wanted to begin that new chapter as a better version of himself—stronger, more fit, cooler .

He couldn’t help noticing the way the cheerleaders—and yeah, okay, one in particular—looked at the athletes on the football team, and it sure couldn’t hurt in the girl arena to put on some muscle.

He’d lain in bed the night before, staring up at the ceiling, deciding that there was no time like the present to take control of his life.

And so he’d set his alarm clock for six a.m., and he’d gone for a run.

At least it had started out as a run before ending more like a limping sort of shuffle.

He’d hated every minute of it. But he didn’t plan to let that stop him.

“Good thing you didn’t run smack into the armed dude who got away from that break-in over in Palisades Park.

Apparently, he was spotted somewhere this way.

Man, they sent the cavalry . It looked like cars from all over the state were whizzing by half an hour ago.

I don’t know if they caught him or not or if he got away, but I keep seeing cop cars going by.

Might still be a manhunt happening out there as we speak. ”

“That’s the reason for all the police presence? A break-in and a getaway?”

“Yeah.” Damon rang the water up, and Rex pulled three one-dollar bills from the zippered pocket on his shorts.

“Hey, hold on,” Damon said, looking out the window to where someone who’d just pulled up to the gas pump was obviously having a problem.

“That pump’s broken. I’ll be right back.

” Damon went around the counter and headed for the front door.

Rex waited while he talked to the customer at the pump.

Palisades Park. Where he’d talked to Camille Cortlandt, who he hadn’t stopped thinking about since. The conversation that, if he was really going to be honest with himself, had inspired the run that, thus far, felt like self-imposed torture.

Still, self-improvement paid off regardless of the initial motivation. So here he was, dying of thirst in a minimart before most of the town was even up.

Damon reentered the store and scooted back around the counter. “Sorry. Anyway, yeah, a couple officers stopped in a little bit ago. One guess what they were here for?” He nodded over to the display of doughnuts next to the coffee and grinned.

“What’d they say?” Rex asked. “I mean, was anyone hurt?”

Damon leaned forward on the counter and glanced over Rex’s shoulder, as if he were committing some sort of crime just by talking about it. “Yeah. From what I overheard the officers talking about, it was a triple murder. Three women. Tied up and ...” He raised his brows.

Triple murder. The two words made him feel suddenly disoriented. “I thought you said it was a break-in.” Three women.

“It was. Only it wasn’t just a break-in.”

“Jesus,” Rex said, uncapping the bottle and taking a drink, the unease spiraling inside him. “In that neighborhood?” Violent crime was everywhere, he supposed, but it generally didn’t touch Palisades Park. He was obsessed with stats, and numbers in general, and knew that very well.

“Fucked up,” Damon said, the register closing with a click.

“Yeah,” Rex agreed with a shake of his head.

Cami had a sister, didn’t she? He’d overheard her mentioning someone named Elle or Ellie a few times at practice.

He looked up to see that Damon was peering at him curiously and probably wondering why he was still standing there. “How’s the baby?” he asked.

“Colicky.”

Rex had no idea what that meant, but by the glum look on Damon’s face, he figured it wasn’t good. “Sorry about that.”

Damon shrugged. “It’ll pass. Everything does, right?”

Rex raised his water toward Damon in a type of salute and then turned and left the store.

He almost headed in the direction of home to work on that college application essay still waiting for him.

But he had this odd feeling in his gut, or maybe he was just nosy as hell because he wanted to know what had happened, perhaps even on that street he’d just been on the day before.

The local hospital where the ambulance had most likely been headed was less than a thirty-minute walk, and his aunt Carolyn would still be on shift.

He made the journey in twenty-two, walking through the bevy of squad cars out front.

What if it was one of the families from Westridge?

He knew he had absolutely no reason to be there, nor would he be of any use to anyone should he know them.

But that feeling in his gut wouldn’t let up.

What if? He didn’t want to wait until he got to school on Monday to look around for the empty chair and the buzz of gossip that would spread quickly down the hallways.

The hospital lobby was a mess of police and a few reporters who’d just shown up and were moving from officer to officer, attempting to obtain a statement.

He beelined for the elevators and got off on the ICU floor where his aunt worked and headed for the front desk.

But when the door opened, he quickly stepped in that direction. “Carolyn.”

“Rex? Hey, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I was just—” They both stepped to the side of the hall when the doors to the unit opened, and a nurse pushing a gurney with an old man on it came through.

“I was just wondering if you know anything about the victims from Palisades Park. Half the football team lives up there, and I was worried it might be someone I know.”

Carolyn pressed her lips together and took him by the arm as she turned and began walking. He fell in step with her, and she went out the doors of the ICU, and they began walking down the hall. “I’ve got a fifteen-minute break.”

“Coffee?” he asked.

“No, I’ve had enough caffeine. I need some calories.”

They stepped into a room off the main hall that had a few empty tables and three vending machines on the back wall.

“Do you want anything?” Carolyn pulled a credit card from the pocket of her scrubs and swiped it before pressing a few buttons.

A second later, the mechanical arm in front of a bag of Cheez-Its rotated aside, and the snack pack fell.

Carolyn bent and retrieved it from the bin and turned back to him.

She was younger than his mom, but she, too, had golden brown curls and the same pointed chin.

But that was where the similarities ended.

“You can’t say a word because even the media isn’t releasing names right now.

Not until any family members are notified.

” She tore open the bag. “It’s a family by the name of Cortlandt.

” She shook her head as Rex’s stomach plummeted.

Oh God. “One of the worst things I’ve ever heard. ”

“Is ... is the whole family dead?”

Carolyn leaned against the vending machine and popped a cracker in her mouth. She took a moment to chew and swallow as Rex slowly died inside. You don’t even know her, not really. So why did he feel this rising tide of panic?

“No. The father was severely beaten. He has some head injuries, but he’ll make it. He’s in surgery now for a couple serious fractures. And the older daughter is alive.”

“The older daughter? Cami? Camille?”

Carolyn’s eyes lingered on him for a moment. “I don’t know her name. Pretty redhead. That dark kind of red. Do you know her?”

He crossed his arms over his ribs. “Yeah, I do know her. Not well. Not well at all, but ... she’s a cheerleader at my school.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.” She shook her head as she chewed another cracker. “She’ll never be the same. She was terribly victimized. But at least she’s alive. The mom and younger daughter didn’t get so lucky.”

She’ll never be the same.