Read Online Never Knowing by Chevy Stevens - Free Book Online Page B

focusing in on that moment. Dad’s tense face, the concern in Mom’s eyes, something they were both thinking but didn’t say. What had I missed? Then it hit me.
    The Campsite Killer could have read the article.
    I didn’t know I was still sitting at the light until a car honked behind me and Ally said, “Mommy, go!” I drove the rest of the way in a daze. I’d been so caught up in defending myself, so terrified of my father’s anger, I’d missed the thing I should be most afraid of. If the Campsite Killer found that article, he not only knew I lived in Nanaimo, he knew my name.
    As soon as we got home Ally had a bath, then I read her a story, but I kept stumbling over words and losing my spot on the page. I had to talk to Evan. After Ally fell asleep I tried to call him, but he wasn’t answering his cell. I bundled up in a blanket on the couch, watching mindless TV and waiting for Evan to call back. Just as I was about to give up and go to bed, the phone rang. Before he could ask what I’d been up to, I asked him how his day was.
    “We found a pod of humpbacks, so the group was happy.” Evan built his lodge on the remote west coast of the island, so it offers guided kayak tours and whale watching not just fishing charters.
    “That’s awesome.”
    “Sure looking forward to coming home this weekend, though.…” He growled and I tried to join in but couldn’t pull it off. So I took a deep breath and spit it out. First I told him about leaving Julia a message and her awful call back, then about telling Lauren, and finally that it hit the Internet. He took it better than I thought, a lot better than I would—no surprise there.
    “It won’t go anywhere,” he said.
    “But people are obsessed with serial killers—half the books and movies made are about them. If they find out I’m his daughter…”
    “You know where the shotgun is and the key for the trigger lock—”
    “The shotgun!”
    “You’ll be fine. That site can’t have that many readers.”
    “What if he reads it?”
    “The Campsite Killer?” He paused for a moment. “Nah, there’s no way he’s reading a Nanaimo blog.”
    “You really think it’ll be okay?”
    “Yeah, I do. Let your dad’s lawyer handle it.”
    “I’m just freaked out.”
    He softened his voice. “I’ll be home soon.”
    *   *   *

    Before I dove into bed last night I couldn’t help peeking at the Web site and was happy to see the article was still gone. I also did a quick Google search and nothing came up. I went to sleep convinced Evan was right—it wasn’t going to go anywhere. In fact, it was good this happened because it forced things out in the open with my family—keeping things under wraps is not exactly a talent of mine.
    This morning Ally sang Moose a song in between bites of toast and peanut butter. Ally and I are both peanut butter fiends, you wouldn’t believe how many jars we go through. After I dropped her off at school I grabbed a coffee and headed out to the shop to attack a new armoire. I was in the zone within minutes and didn’t stop for lunch. Finally, in the afternoon, I decided to grab a snack and refill my coffee. Before I headed back out to my shop, I snuck upstairs for another peek at the Nanaimo News for Now site. The article was still down. For peace of mind I did another Google search for Karen Christianson. This time a bunch of new hits popped up.
    I set my cup down so fast coffee sloshed over the rim, and clicked on the first link. It was for a serial killer fan club in the States. In the forum someone named “Dahmersdinner” had posted that Karen Christianson was hiding in Victoria and using the name Julia Laroche. Her daughter, a woman named Sara Gallagher, lived in Nanaimo. I stared at the screen, my heart thumping loudly in my ear. There was nothing I could do, no way to delete it. Then I noticed there were comments—lots of them. I clicked on the tab and expanded the page. First they were along the lines of “I