“What’s wrong?” he asked. He placed the book back on the shelf and walked closer to her. “You look really unhappy all of a sudden. Was it something I said?”
She shrugged off her sadness and replied, “No, it’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“I’m David, by the way.” He tucked his hands into his jean pockets and rocked back and forth a little on his sneakers.
“I’m Marianne.”
“Cool,” he said. “That’s a nice name.”
“Thank you, I guess. Or thank my mom and dad. I didn’t really have anything to do with choosing it.”
He laughed even though it wasn’t that funny, and she swore to herself to stop saying stupid, awkward things.
“Do you go to Kingston?” she asked. Even though her mouth had gone dry making it difficult to speak, she wanted a chance to redeem herself.
“Yeah, I’ve seen you around.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, not wanting to admit that she had never seen him before.
“Well, I better get going since you’re closed and all,” he said. “But maybe I’ll see again soon.”
“Yeah, next week maybe. In school.”
“Cool,” he said again. He snapped up his flannel-lined blue coat, pulled the collar up around his neck and over his blonde hair, and walked away.
That entire weekend was a blur. All she could think about was seeing him again. There was no way they had a class together because she would have remembered seeing him. He must have seen her in the halls or lunchroom. First thing Monday, she was going to make a point of looking for him in between classes.
But on Monday, there was no sign of him anywhere. She even stayed a little late to see if could catch him leaving. She couldn’t figure out where he had seen her at school and started to worry that maybe he wasn’t a high school student after all, and she had given her name to some random creep. A feeling of foolishness crept over her, and she longed for her old friends.
She finally gave up on seeing him and headed out the door.
“Hey, there you are,” he said, running up behind her through the empty atrium. “I waited for you outside of your art class. Isn’t that your last class?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t see you anywhere.” Of course, the halls were crowded, she remembered. “Is that where you’ve seen me before? Leaving art class?”
“I saw you assembling dividers last week, the ones you guys will use for the fall art exhibit. Is anything of yours going to be in the show?”
“Yes, I’ve been working on some acrylic paintings. Mrs. Lynn is going to choose one to display.”
“I bet your work is really good.”
Marianne’s face flushed hot and she laughed. “I don’t know. I guess it’s okay.”
“The show’s in November, right?”
“Yes, the week before Thanksgiving.”
“Okay then. I guess we’ll find out then,” he grinned down at her and bumped her lightly with his elbow, his hands shoved into his coat pockets.
“Where are your books?” she asked.
“In my locker. I don’t need them. I have study hall for my last class, so I usually do my work then.”
“Must be nice,” she said, adjusting the straps of her overstuffed bookbag.
“Where are you going now?” he asked.
“I’m going home. I don’t have hours at the library today, and I’m starving.”
“Want me to walk you home?”
“That’s nice, thank you, but I have a car.”
“You have your own car? That’s very cool.”
“I wouldn’t say it was ‘cool,’ but it gets me where I need to go. Usually.”
“I’ll walk you to your car then,” he said, holding the door open for her, bowing and saying “my lady” as she walked through it.
It made her smile, but she couldn’t resist saying, “You’re weird.”
“I know. But I’m a good weird, right?”
“Does David ever ride in the car with you?” Detective Bishop asked. “Does he ever go back to your house or take you to his house?”
“Yes,” Marianne answered. Then she thought about the question a little harder. “Actually, he comes to my house sometimes. I’d never been to his house before tonight.” She could almost see her breath when she spoke and tried to blow some warmth beneath the blanket she had wrapped around her shoulders.
“I’m sorry it’s so cold in here. The heat broke the other day, and we’ve not been able to get anyone in here to fix it. The holidays keep everyone busy. These portable heaters are the best we can do for now, I’m afraid.”
“It’s okay,” Marianne said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Would you like some gloves? I think I have an extra pair of those soft, stretchy ones in my bag.”
“No, I shouldn’t. Not until I get cleaned up.” Marianne held out her hands so Detective Bishop could see the blood on them. “I didn’t do anything, I swear. I was just sitting right next to him when…” She couldn’t finish. She started to shake all over and not because she was cold. Her stomach churned.
“Let’s go back to David again. Do your mom and dad like him?”
“He’s never met them. My parents work, and my little brothers go to daycare after school. I can’t study and volunteer and watch them. My parents are hoping I get into a good college, so they want me to concentrate on that.”
“I’m sure you are a smart girl with a bright future. So, your parents have never met David, but they don’t mind you having a boy in the house when they aren’t home. Is that right? Do they know about him?”
Marianne felt a tinge of guilt, not that she’s ever done anything to feel guilty about. Her parents know about David, and she’s never lied to them - exactly. She just omits the truth. David sometimes comes over after school, but she has never told them that.
“I see,” Detective Bishop said, nodding her head once. Your parents never knew he was in the house when they weren’t home. Well, I’m sure you aren’t the first teenager to pull that one off, my dear. Don’t look so ashamed. Tell me, what is he like to hang out with, as you said? What do the two of you do together?”
Marianne’s eyes met hers and for a moment, no one said a word.
“Let me rephrase that. Do you just go back to your house sometimes, or do you go to other places? Ever go to the movies or a restaurant?”
“Yes, we do a lot together.” Marianne took a deep breath and wiped her eyes with a new tissue from the pack on the table. “He’s my only friend here.”
She closed her eyes and tried not to think about the first time he had kissed her, but she couldn’t let it go. It had been an early release day, so they had the entire afternoon to be together. They went to a movie, grabbed something to eat on the way back to her house, and started listening to music in her room. She teased him about his retro band t-shirt, and he teased her for not knowing any of their amazing songs. He told her about his favorite one as she looked for it online. About halfway through, she declared how much she liked it, and he shouted with delight, “I knew it! I knew you were cool!” And then he pulled her close and kissed her.
It was the best day of her life. Every day after that was a bonus day, and not only for her. He felt it too. She knew because he had told her one night after making out in her car that he loved her. He had said, “You’re the one. I know it. You are going to change everything.”
Detective Bishop leaned on the table. “What do you think he meant by that?”
Marianne didn’t realize she had said it aloud, but the entire story seemed to be pouring freely from her now. “I don’t know. Maybe that we were meant to be together and our lives would be changed forever.”
Detective Bishop didn’t respond. She just sat there, thinking.
“Does anyone know if he is okay yet? Has anyone gone to the house?”
“What were you doing there tonight?” the Detective asked. “Did you go with David? Did you meet his family?”
“David invited me. I met h
is mother and sister. I didn’t meet his father, but I saw him. I saw what he did.”
“What did he do? What happened at the end of Ingram Road tonight, Marianne?”
“David invited me for Christmas Eve. He said his mom was going to make dinner, and he wanted me to meet her and his younger sister. His mom and dad had been arguing a lot lately, so I had never been invited over before. He was embarrassed, I think. But he said things were getting better and his dad was traveling for work anyway, so I should come.”
Her throat was dry and started to crack. Detective Bishop encouraged her to drink some more water.
“My mom said it was okay. She was happy that I was adjusting well to having moved here. My dad wasn’t pleased that I wouldn’t be going with them to the midnight service, but he agreed with my mom.”
“Okay, so that’s where your parents are now. What church?”
“St. Matthew’s, over on Eden Way.”
Detective Bishop nodded at the two-way mirror, and Marianne knew she was sending someone to fetch her parents.
“What happened once you arrived at David’s house?”
“Nothing really. I was surprised at how nice it is. It’s huge. He never dressed or acted like a rich kid, but his house is impressive. I met his mom first – Mrs. Parker. She was nice. She said that dinner would be ready soon, but until then, she had wrapping to do.”
“Where was Mrs. Parker?”
“She was sitting on the couch in their living room, watching television, and wrapping gifts. She told David to keep his sister out of there so she wouldn’t see anything she was getting for Christmas.”
“And you met his little sister?”
“Yeah,” Marianne couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her. “Jennifer. She’s really cute. She has this strange collection of old dolls in her room. They looked valuable or something, but she was on the floor playing with them when we went to see her. David asked her to listen to music with us so he could keep an eye on her like his mom asked, but she wasn’t interested.”
“Is that what you did next? You listened to music in David’s room?”
“He has this ridiculous record player – I mean, it is something out of the stone age, I swear. And there is an entire bookshelf filled with albums – record albums. I never pegged him as a hipster, but you don’t always know, I guess.” Marianne laughed a little before remembering the terrible thing that had happened – the reason why she was there.
“I didn’t hear anything, but David suddenly got this terrified look on his face. He turned off the music, grabbed my hand, and told me to be quiet. We sat against the wall, hiding from the door on the other side of the bed. He said, ‘Whatever you do, don’t let go of me. When he comes, I want to stay with you.”
Marianne took another sip of water, her hand shaking so badly she could barely get the cup to her lips.
“And then what?” Detective Bishop asked.
“It was quiet for a while, and I started to feel a little freaked out. I tried to tell David that I wanted to go home, but he hushed me and whispered, ‘If you leave, I’ll never see you again.”
“How did that make you feel?” Another woman asked.
Marianne hadn’t noticed her enter the room, but she was suddenly there, snuggly wrapped in a woolen shawl. Her large-rimmed glasses were as round as her face. The ID tag she wore long around her neck clanked against the table as she sat down. The lines across her forehead deepened when she asked, “Did you feel threatened?”
“I don’t know,” Marianne replied cautiously.
“This is Dr. Robbins. She’s here to help.” Detective Bishop didn’t specify what Dr. Robbins was helping with though, and Marianne wondered why a doctor was needed.
“I’m not hurt,” she told them and looked at her hands. “It isn’t my blood.”
“Let’s continue,” Detective Bishop said. “David didn’t want you to leave, so you stayed with him. What happened next?”
“We heard a strange thumping sound followed by a low moan. After that, we heard someone coming up the stairs. David squeezed my hand so hard I almost screamed – and for a second, I thought I had. There was this piercing scream. But it wasn’t me. It was coming from down the hall. Jennifer. She was screaming, ‘Don’t hurt me, Daddy! Please don’t hurt me!” We heard another thump, and then everything went quiet again.”
Marianne was shaking uncontrollably, and the tissues weren’t doing much to dry her tears. They just kept shredding and falling apart in her hands. It was everything she could do just to hold herself together enough to keep telling the story.
“The door to David’s room opened. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I didn’t know what was happening. A man entered. He didn’t look angry or anything, but he had a bloody hammer in his hand.
“David said, ‘Dad, please don’t do it. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll help make it better for you. Just don’t do it.’ I held his hand as tightly as I could, but when his dad raised the hammer over his head, David pulled away from me to shield himself.
“And then blood was everywhere, and his dad just kept hitting him again and again. At first, I just sat there screaming and crying with my hands over my face. I was next. I knew it. I had to get out. I had to get out of there. I started crawling away. I crawled on my hands and knees until I reached the stairs. I could see Jennifer lying on the floor of her room. Oh my God. That poor little girl! That’s when I stood up and started running. His mother was still on the couch, but her face and head were covered with blood. I ran past her and out the door to my car, and that’s when I realized that my keys were still inside. I couldn’t go back. I just couldn’t. My purse was still upstairs, but my phone was in my pocket. I tried to call 911, but then I heard a gunshot from inside the house. I dropped my phone and couldn’t find it, so I just started running again. I don’t really remember what happened after that. I’m not even sure how I got here. They said Mr. Donahue picked me up, but I don’t remember.”
The young detective peeked into the room again. “They are ready when you are,” he said to Detective Bishop.
“Thank you,” she said to him and then said to Marianne, “We are going to take you back to David’s house where I’d like for you to walk us through this again.”
“No, no, no. I can’t go back. Please don’t make me!” Marianne’s head dropped down and she sobbed.
“I want you to trust me,” Detective Bishop said, helping her to her feet.
“It will be alright,” Dr. Robbins assured Marianne. “It’s for the best, and we’ll be with you the entire time.”
Marianne rode in Detective Bishop’s unmarked car. They followed the young detective’s car down Ingram Road, their bright headlights showing them the way through utter blackness. Even the snow seemed to lack reflection.
Marianne felt sick again, so she cracked the window for some air and stuck her face into the bag Detective Bishop had given her to hold on the way there. It was blue and had Sick Sack written in white letters across the outside.
Another police car was already there. Its flashing red lights illuminated the otherwise dark house.
“It’s open,” one of the uniformed officers said to Detective Bishop.
Dr. Robbins emerged from the young detective’s car and followed Marianne and Detective Bishop into the house. The young detective remained outside.
Two officers walked through the house and flipped the light switches.
“Really? The power is still on in this place?” Detective Bishop asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” one of the two officers answered.
“Huh. That’s odd.” Detective Bishop surveyed the room before checking on Marianne. “Are you doing okay?”
She didn’t answer, so Dr. Robbins tried prompting her with a soothing voice, “It’s alright, Marianne. Just tell us what you see.”
Marianne didn’t understand what they wanted her to do or say. Maybe she was in a state of shock. She looked around the living room. It had been de
corated in a vintage style, a theme his parents must have liked immensely. There was an absolute dedication to the design, not just in the green and orange furniture and gold shag carpet, but with the old cabinet television. Even their elaborately decorated Christmas Tree was a shimmering tower of multi-colored lights laden with long silver strands of tinsel that Marianne had only ever seen in old photographs at her grandmother’s house. Beneath the tree were brightly wrapped gifts lovingly topped with handmade bows. In contrast, rolls of yet unused holiday paper and yards of ribbon were strewn about the couch and floor, right where Mrs. Parker had been killed.
Dr. Robbins and Detective Bishop followed Marianne through the house and listened intently as she told them where everyone had been and what she had witnessed. She pointed at the beautiful dolls in Jennifer’s room that she had told Detective Bishop about.
“She was playing with them right over there, under the window,” she said. “And when I left, she was on the floor here near the door. She must have gotten past him and tried to run away.”
At least the bodies weren’t there anymore, but the bloodstains were enough to upset her. She struggled to breathe as they neared David’s room.
“He wasn’t alive when you found him, was he? That’s why you want me to walk you through what happened. Did you arrest Mr. Parker?”
Detective Bishop and Dr. Robbins looked at each other.
“I hope you get him,” Marianne said quietly as she slowly opened the door to David’s bedroom.
His record collection lined the light wood bookshelf against the gray paneled wall. She hadn’t remembered seeing the paneling before, but it was obviously another touch of the unusual style found throughout the house. There was a pen resting on some pieces of paper on his desk under a lamp and a large map of the world framed in gold hanging over his bed.
She walked around the bed and showed Detective Bishop where David had been bludgeoned by his father. There was blood splattered all over the wall and carpet. “This is where we were sitting when he was attacked.”
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