##Chapter 15: Guilty

She was going to fix this.

She had to fix this.

It didn't matter how. The costs were irrelevant. Above all, she would ensure that Grace and Elaine were safe.

If they were not….

She had twenty-one bullets and the entire Chicago system of law at her disposal to rectify that.

Wickfield had been right; she had lost her sense and sanity.

They had been sucked into the gravitational field around Elaine Roberts' personality and had yet to return.

She was unsure if she wanted them too. They had become so foreign to her.

The Roberts woman was stubborn to a fault. Everything she did was passion filled. Her compassion blinded her to the larger image. She was infuriating with her cheerfulness and bright smiles in the face of overwhelming danger. Her eagerness to help and hand out personal information so readily made her naive.

She was the antithesis of all Abigail stood for, and it should not have drawn her in, but it had.

She knew why. She wished for that care. She yearned for the eyes so full of hate to look at her with the same kind of compassion she viewed the remaining world. Maybe more than compassion. There was no denying she found Elaine attractive. The challenge to her views was a welcome one too.

Call her old fashioned, but she enjoyed a proper courting to her romances. She wanted to take Elaine out on a date. Make her feel special. Give her attention and affection no one else ever had. She wanted to use her resources to ease Elaine's troubles with the shelters.

She wanted to know her secrets. She wanted to see what made her tick. Ask her so many questions about herself until she grew sick of talking about them. She wanted to wake up in the mornings and admire the way Elaine looked sleeping.

All the over the top things a romance between two people could bring, she wanted to spend with Elaine.

Then there was Grace.

She was too young to be dealing with this. She had just lost her mother and would now be expected to perform duties an adult would have trouble with. No time to mourn. No time to think for herself. No time to grow or learn who she was or wanted to be.

No… no don't go there. Not there. Not now. This was not about that. It had nothing to do with her own issues.

Abigail knew she wasn't being fair. She was simply frustrated at the situation and at herself. She was using Elaine and Grace as scrape goats to shift her feelings onto so they could be picked apart piece by piece.

For God's sake, she was racing across the city trying to track down the car they'd driven in or reach her home, whichever came first.

Unfortunately, her phone had lost its charge, so she was driving blind. Elaine's apartment was on East Waterway Street. She assumed this meant a riverside property, so she'd stuck close to the water with no success so far.

The riverside road she had taken was having a music festival. A hybrid mix of rock and techno, a few banners explained. The highway had been siphoned into a single lane for traffic unaffiliated with the event, but to reach it, she had to navigate the lanes between the actual festival goers.

Abigail eased up on the brakes, flicking her eyes between the speedometer and the road, tapping her hands on the radio to start up her playlist. Violins swelled to a crescendo instantly, an aria, judging the lack of other instruments playing and single singer bellowing about some self-inflicted slight.

Usually, the sight of productivity energized her. The bustle of the city. The noise of the cars. The shouting of people.

Abigail couldn't find any love for it tonight.

It was an obstacle. Everything had been an obstacle lately. Her heart was confused. Her head determined it was right. Both sides of her were fighting, roiling, aching.

There was time aplenty now. Why not dissect the source of the emotions and deal with them? Facing the possibility of one's demise without clear conscience seemed foolish.

To run with the metaphor of drawing things in, why was she so disturbed by Elaine and Grace and the hold they had on her?

Earlier she had marked her pride as the cause of her distress. This was not entirely correct.

She was a perfectionist and a woman driven by goals. There was no fault in either trait inherently. Having goals and desire to fulfill them was needed in all walks of life.

It wasn't the energy. It wasn't the act of creation. No, what made her feel whole was the completion. Knowing that everything had been done precisely as it should have been. That nothing was beyond what she could control. Every motion perfect. Every thought planned.

The issue she found in her work of the current moment was having been so eager to provide results she ignored the emotional wellbeing of those involved. She had also assumed, incorrectly, that the plans she had made would be enough to counteract those of a man as dedicated and meticulous as she.

The hallmarks of perfection were all across Bobby Holiday's work. The hours of research into medical histories and background of his victims. The battalion of notes written and rewritten to emulate the signatures and style of the children's guardians. It all screamed a desire to prove and be proven worthy.

She knew the feeling well, and the thought of sharing any emotional similarity with a killer made her stomach curl. She pushed the thoughts aside. Many people were of the same mind and mannerisms.

Giving in to fear and panic would allow Holiday what he desired most, and she would be d**ned if that man felt any pleasure.

She was ignoring the problem. Thinking through other issues to save herself the shame. She was trying to keep herself unequivocally moral and justified in her position.

There was no justification to be had. Thinking of opinions and positions on the matter of Grace's safety as right or wrong was narrow minded. It was a difference in reaching the same goal that drove her and Elaine apart, not a desire to genuinely frustrate the other emotionally.

Very well then.

What could be done to fix the problem that lay before them?

The hour was late; traveling was out of the question. They would have to huddle up inside Elaine's residence until morning. She would request Elaine to make accommodations for traveling to a locale with many people nearby. Perhaps a family member or friend, those two she was with before seemed….

Wait.

Would the presence of others induce Holiday to make the killing a spectacle? Would it be better to retreat to a secure location outside the boundaries of the city as Elaine had suggested? She would be insufferable about it, no doubt, and rightfully so, but the suggestion needed to be made.

Moving around constantly could be a solution. Never giving anyone time enough to get their location would frustrate attempts to kill them. Hard to aim sniper rifles when the target refused to stay still. She could acquire tint for her windows to obscure the view of the scope.

Nothing could be done about infrared or night vision equipment, but perhaps a net over the windows would slow the bullet enough to prevent instantaneous death. A thicker net would do. Volleyball nets were sold in bulk at sport supply centers. They would go there first.

Together, Elaine and herself could debate the benefits and detriments of each plan. Grace would also be consulted. She might know of the location of Bobby Holiday's outfitted crew which they could then pass along to the police. Even better, the girl might know of accommodations they could use.

Next came how to fortify their location.

Any spare mattresses or pillows would need to be placed against the windows. Glass was as deadly as bullets. The doors would need to be braced with the heaviest furniture in the house. Weapons like knives collected. As many objects as possible tossed on the floor to delay the attacker.

They would need to leave one window, the one in the room they were using as a base, free. That way in case of fire they would easily escape. If the apartment wasn't on the ground floor, they would collect sheets and spend their time making a sheet ladder.

Nonperishable food items and one use water bottles from the house could be stored and taken with them. If they needed to hide out, it would be useful to take shampoo, soap, and toothpaste. Other items like flashlights, lighters or matches, candles, and a paper map, were also essential. It would take… two bags… maybe three.

They could count on any assistance being delayed. With all of the events happening around the city, the manpower of the police force, fire department, and emergency services would be split.

Elaine would be given the keys to her car. She would park it in the nearest public garage. That way, it would be more secure and less likely to be tampered with. She would also be the last to leave the building. She would not broker any debate on this topic.

Elaine was better for Grace than she was. She knew how to talk to her. How to keep her calm. Grace trusted Elaine. She should be the main caretaker in this emergency.

The plan did nothing to assuage her guilt. Erasing that would take time. Making sure Bobby Holiday paid for his crimes.

Maybe then the image of Gina Holiday's mangled body and the cries of her young daughter would cease repeating on loop.