“What do you have to be nervous about? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know that,” Moore said as she gave Woods a look of foolishness. He quickly looked away. “Hey,” she said, touching his large brown hand that was lying on the seat next to her. “I didn’t mean anything by that.” She wanted to smack herself in the head for her actions. She really liked Woods and now she was screwing everything up because she didn’t think before she spoke. She really needed to watch how she portrayed herself around others, especially Woods, if she wanted any kind of relationship with him. Days ago, she didn’t want to think about having a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship with Woods, but she had let her guard down and allowed her feelings to surface. Not that it was a bad thing. Woods was a terrific guy, but that was the problem. She knew he was too good for her and wondered why and what he saw in her. He was outgoing and handsome. He was funny and always had things to talk about. She loved the way he laughed and made her feel. She was funny too, wasn’t she?
“Sometimes you can be a real ass, Moore.” Woods opened his door, climbed out and walked to the front of the vehicle.
Moore sat watching him through the windshield, knowing that she had hurt his feelings and hadn’t realized how self-conscious he seemed to be. He was a big old muscular teddy bear to her. She laughed inside. I’m an ass? She blew out a breath. She’d have to fix this between them before she lost him for good. This was why she didn’t date men at work. She pushed open the heavy door, climbed out, and slammed it shut. “Let’s do this,” Moore said.
Moore took the lead and crossed the street. They walked up the sidewalk to the front door of the house. Moore looked around the porch. The furniture was fairly new, no signs of mold on the cushioned chairs. There were planters filled with vibrant flowers and hanging baskets overflowing with philodendron cordatum vines along the roof of the porch. Moore touched the soil, revealing what she already knew. The flowers had been watered recently. Besides the day of the accident, there had been no rain until the rain drops that had fallen minutes ago but there was no way the rain had watered these pots with the overhang of the roof. She turned and observed the house. The paint looked fresh, maybe within the last year or two. There were no piled-up newspapers or mail overflowing in the mailbox next to the door. She saw all the signs of someone living here after the accident.
She turned and scoped out the neighborhood and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing but a well-kept community. Moore turned back around and rang the doorbell. She could hear the chime of the bell throughout the house.
“Maybe no one’s home,” Woods suggested.
“Let’s give it a minute,” Officer Moore replied without sounding, once again, too demanding. “They could be coming from upstairs or from the shower.” After another minute or two, Moore rang the bell and knocked on the door at the same time. The sound echoed loud around them. After a few seconds, she heard someone call out.
“Just a minute. I’m coming, I’m coming,” the female voice said.
The deadbolt turned, and the door creaked open. In the doorway stood an elderly woman, probably nearing her eighties. “Can I help you?” she asked in a shaky voice. Her hair was untidy as if she’d just woken up.
Moore could tell the woman looked afraid. How often did two black people show up on a white person’s porch? Not often, she was sure. Moore nodded and cleared her throat. “Good morning, ma’am, sorry to have bothered you. My name is Officer Moore.” She flashed her badge for the woman to see. “I’m with the Edon Police Department and this here is my partner Officer Woods,” Moore said as she tilted her head toward Woods. She could see a slight smile surface. The corners of Woods’ lips turned upward.
“What can I help you with?” the woman asked, looking more relaxed.
“Has anyone been here to talk to you recently, say in the past day or two?”
The woman shook her head. “What’s this about?”
“Are you related to Scott Wards?”
“Well, yes. He’s my grandson.”
“I’m sorry, but is it possible we could come in and speak to you for a few minutes?” Moore asked.
“Sure, is everything all right? Has anything happened to him?” The old woman stepped back to let them in.
Both Moore and Woods looked at each other before they stepped inside, waiting as the woman closed the door behind them. The old woman took the lead, wrapping the ties of her robe around her thin waist, and slowly walking into the living room to sit down on the sofa.
“Please have a seat,” the elderly woman offered. “Would you like something to drink or eat?”
“Thank you so much for your kindness, but we’re fine,” Moore said. She’d never had to tell anyone that their child or grandchild had died.
Woods sat first, then Moore beside him. Moore opened the file and took out the photo of Scott. “Is this your grandson?”
The old lady took the photo and stared at it for a few seconds then nodded. “Is everything all right?” she asked again. “He hasn’t gotten himself into any trouble, has he? I keep telling him to be careful, but you know how kids don’t want to listen to what you say. Ever since he was a teenager he was always getting into some kind of trouble. Thank the good Lord he joined the Army and made something of himself,” the woman said. “They don’t want to listen about when you were a kid and how things used to be,” the old woman rambled on, then shook her head, handing back the photo. “What has he done?”
Moore swallowed. “Has anyone been here to talk to you at all in the past couple of days?”
“Um, I’m not sure. Maybe if I think hard enough I can recall,” the elderly lady said. She looked away and then back at Moore and Woods sitting in front of her. “Oh, I’m so rude. Could I offer you anything to drink or eat?”
Moore and Woods looked at each other and then back at the elderly lady. “No, thank you, we’re fine,” Moore replied then asked the lady again about anyone coming to talk to her.
“Come talk to me? Why would someone come see me?”
Moore took in a breath and then spoke. “Ma’am, I’m afraid there’s been an accident. Did anyone stop by from the police department?”
“Police? Let me think…oh, yeah, I think he said his name was Officer Cleaver, but I’m not certain. I can’t recall much these days, you know. Getting older has its downfalls.”
“It sure does,” Moore replied as she looked from the woman to Officer Woods, who was sitting skin to skin next to her. Moore cleared her throat. “Do you mean Officer Weaver?”
“Oh, yes, Weaver,” the woman corrected herself as she nodded her head.
“Did this Officer Weaver say anything to you? Like why he came to see you?”
“I’m not sure,” the elder woman answered, looking confused. “What’s this about?”
“Well, the reason we’re here is because… Well, I’m afraid your grandson Scott was in an accident.”
“Oh, no.” The woman’s hand flew to her mouth.
“I’m afraid he didn’t make it. I’m so sorry,” Officer Moore said. “Is there anyone I can call for you? Do you need someone to stay with you?”
“There isn’t anyone else. He’s my only grandson. My only family.”
“His parents?” Woods asked.
The old lady shook her head. “They both died in the plane crash on 9/11. Sad really, both dying the way they did. Scott was staying with me when it happened. Poor boy was only eleven when they died.” The woman frowned. “I think that’s why he joined the military. Did you know he was in the Army?”
Moore nodded. She had read the file before they came here. “Any friends who hung out with Scott?” Moore asked.
The woman started to shake her head, then stopped. “Yes,” she said, placing her hand to her face again, then pointing a finger at Moore. “He has a friend he knew from the Army he still hangs out with and goes riding with. I think, oh, what was his name again. Adam. I think his name is Adam. Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“Does this Adam friend have a last name?” Moore knew of an Adam, but what were the chances that it was the same Adam Moore knew from Edon? There had to be several Adams around with that name, right?
The woman shook her head. “Don’t recall his last name. Was Scott on a bike?”
“Bike?” Officer Moore questioned. “Like motorcycle?”
“Yes. Adam and Scott were always riding their motorcycles wherever they went. I told them both that they should wear helmets, you know. Just in case they’re ever in an accident.”
Moore knew that no helmet would have saved Scott.
“He may have been riding with him. Did you talk to him? He’d be able to tell you more about Scott since they hang out all the time.”
“Do you mean Adam?”
“Yes.”
“Do you happen to have a photo of Adam?” Moore asked.
“No, I was never one to take pictures of Scott and his friends.”
“No yearbook? Anything?”
“No, we couldn’t afford those things. Did you know they wanted sixty dollars for one of those books? For what? To sit on your shelf and never open,” the woman spat. “I love memories, but I ain’t spending sixty bucks on one,” the woman said in disgust.
“Okay, well, if there’s anything else you can think of,” Moore said, handing the woman one of her cards, “just give me a call.” Moore knew the woman was probably lonely, but she couldn’t sit here talking about things that weren’t connected to the case.
“Do you know what hospital he went to?” the woman asked. “My grandson, Scott. I’ll need to make arrangements for the funeral,” the lady stated.
“He was taken to Edon Hospital. You can call them, and they’ll get you in touch with the right person.”
“Oh, thank you. I greatly appreciate you coming to my house,” the woman said. “You’re so kind.”
“It’s our job, ma’am,” Woods replied, nodding his head toward the woman.
They all stood at the same time and headed toward the door. Officer Woods reached out and pulled open the door, sunlight pouring in at their feet. The dark clouds had sailed away, bringing out the warm sun. Officer Moore followed Woods out onto the front porch. Moore turned, asking two more questions. “For my records, what is your full name? And did you or Scott know anyone by the name of a Ben Gordon?”
The woman replied, “My name is Gilda Wards. I’m afraid I don’t know anyone by that name. I haven’t heard Scott mention anyone by the name of Ben Gordon.”
“Okay, well, thank you for your time, and again, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Moore said and went down the stairs and walked toward her vehicle where Woods was waiting for her. She climbed into the truck and sat, staring out the windshield. She recalled the moment she arrived at the scene that there were two motorcycles. So where and who was this Adam?
“Are you okay, Moore?”
She cleared her throat and turned toward Woods. “Yes, sorry, I’m fine. Just sad to know that she doesn’t have anyone else now that her grandson has died.” Once the words were out, she instantly thought of herself and how lonely she had been since her father passed away a couple of years ago.
“I’m sure she’ll be fine. She seemed okay when you told her.”
“I know, but some people are good at holding it in until they’re alone and it scares me that she has these absentminded moments.” She knew that the lady was most likely suffering from an early onset of Alzheimer’s and that being alone now—well, that seemed frightening to Moore. What if something happened to her?
Moore decided at that moment she’d check in on her from time to time and make sure she was all right. She hoped that one day she didn’t end up like this woman, living all alone with no family or man to keep her company. She knew all too well because she was that kind of person. At work, she had to look and be tough around the other guys, but at home it was just her and no one around to see her cry.
Moore started the truck and drove around the block, heading back in the direction of the station. She’d see if she could find out any information on this Adam guy and what hospital he was at, if any.
24
After Leah looked at the last remaining bodies in the morgue she was confused. None of the bodies were her brain-dead patient. “If he isn’t here, then where did Dr. Amal send the body?” she whispered to herself as she headed toward the elevator. When the doors opened to the lobby, sunlight shone through the skylights, lighting up the enormous room. The drizzling rain from this morning had departed, leaving nothing but sunshine.
Her eyes crept along the wall of the lobby and fell upon the clock. It was past her lunch break now and she would need to get back to work. Before the doors to the elevator closed, four more people climbed inside. The doors shut, and she hit the number five.
By the time she reached the fifth floor, there was no one left inside the elevator. She was alone to think about the brain-dead patient and where he could be. She had no idea and knew that the nurse wouldn’t have lied about Dr. Amal, would she? She couldn’t think of any other scenario. If he didn’t release the body, then where was it? If he did, where was the body? Both questions led back to the same answer. Leah had no idea where he was and if he were gone from this world. Maybe she should leave well enough alone.
The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Leah stepped out and walked toward the counter. She placed her purse inside the cabinet and grabbed a chart from the rack. Leah would have to keep herself busy until her shift was over and then make a stop at Edon Police Department after work. There had to be someone there who could help her find the man from the car accident, right? She could only hope so. Otherwise, she would just have to let this go and move on with her life. She wondered if she should have put this much effort into finding her real mother. After this, maybe she would start looking for her again. What was the worst thing that could happen?
~ ~ ~
Leah parked her car in the lot at the Edon Police Department. She sat behind the wheel and looked at the building. She didn’t want to sound like a crazy person walking into the police department talking about a missing brain-dead patient. She had to get her story straight before going inside.
She turned to the sound of a door slamming to the right of her. Leah had never noticed too many black women as police officers, especially in small towns like this one. Edon wasn’t small, but it wasn’t big either. Franklin, on the other hand, had more than twenty thousand residents, but no black female officers that she recalled.
Sometimes, when she sat at places and saw a colored woman like herself, she would search their faces to see if they looked anything like her, but Leah was sure that her bio-mom was no police officer. Tough women like that don’t go giving up their babies. For all she knew, her real mother was dead.
“Hey Moore, are you heading out?” Leah could hear the tall, handsome colored man yell from the inside of her closed car window. He was dressed in uniform like the other officer sitting in her truck. Leah could tell that the man liked the woman by the way he presented himself when he talked to her.
“Yeah, I have an appointment to be at,” Moore replied.
Leah couldn’t see the woman’s face, but that was okay. She wasn’t here to look for her real mother. She was here to find anything she could from the accident three days ago. She was determined to get answers. Leah shut off her car and climbed out. She walked up the ten steps to the front door of the old brick building.
“I’ll get that for you,” Officer Woods said as he reached his hand out and pulled open the door.
“Thank you,” Leah replied as she turned and smiled at Officer Woods before walking through the door. Leah didn’t see the look on Woods’ face after she smiled at him or that he took a step backwards, letting the door slip from his hand and then regaining his composure before almost falling backwards off the steps.
Leah walked to the counter. “Hi, is there someone I can talk to about the accident on the Ohio Turnpike a few days ago?”
The man behind the counter closed the file he was reading. “Exactly what is this pertaining to? Did you see something happen? Film the accident?”
“Officer Dean why are you interrogating this lady the way you are?” Woods said from behind Leah.
“I just thought… I mean, maybe she saw something,” the officer behind the desk recoiled from Woods’ deep voice.
“Well you don’t go throwing out questions when people walk in off the street, especially when they are asking you questions. I’m so sorry, Miss. Is there something I can help you with?” Woods asked.
Leah turned and smiled again. “Yes, I would like to talk to someone about a man who was in the accident.”
“Sure, follow me, I’ll help you the best I can,” Woods said as he led the way to a room, so they could have privacy.
They walked down a corridor and stopped in front of a small room with a table and three chairs. Woods motioned for her to go inside. “Have a seat,” he said as he closed the door behind them.
Leah pulled out the chair, the metal legs scraping against the floor. She flinched then took a seat. She watched as Officer Woods sat down in front of her, grabbing a note pad and pencil.
“Could I have your name and a phone number before we begin?”
Leah rattled off her name and cell number.
“So, what can I help you with, Miss Leah James?”
Leah took in a shallow breath before telling him the story of the brain-dead man and finding his family. “I’m not sure where he is now, but he’s missing,” Leah said, feeling stupid about being here at all.
“I see,” Woods replied.
“No one that I know of from Franklin or here has come to see the man, besides Sergeant Miles, but that’s only because I went and saw him first. He even said that there was nothing that he could do without having any kind of identification on the victim.”
Officer Woods nodded.
“Do you think that you can help me?” Leah asked. Woods sat across from her, looking mesmerized. Leah’s eyes looked toward the closed door as if looking to escape. Well, for one this officer was staring at her instead of talking. Second, it made her feel very uncomfortable. “I should go,” Leah said as she scooted back her chair.
The Accident Page 13