Mayhem, Murder and the PTA

by Dave Cravens

Parker blinked. She pulled out her phone and swiped to the single shot taken at the funeral home. The picture was taken from across the street, as Parker and her family walked toward the front doors of the home. Everyone’s back was facing the photographer.

  Maddy breathed a sigh of relief. “Mom, Mr. Ward didn’t take that picture. He couldn’t have.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because he was inside the entryway when we walked in. Don’t you remember?”

  “No,” said Parker, slightly ashamed that she didn’t. “To be honest, I was distracted over having to give Heller’s speech.”

  “Well, I remember very clearly,” declared Maddy. “I was trying to work up the nerve to talk to him. We even made eye contact. He didn’t take that picture.”

  Parker and Valerie looked at each other in sheer astonishment.

  “Maddy,” Valerie offered a soft golf clap. “Very nice work. But, if Joe didn’t take it, who did?”

  “He was set up!” Maddy exclaimed.

  “You want to reach for a conclusion, not jump to one.” Parker drummed her finger tips on the kitchen table. “We arrived late. Most everyone was already inside the home by the time we got there. Who was missing? Mendez and Bernstein never showed. Bernstein claimed he was sick. Mendez told me it was none of my business. Bill said the texts from Heller’s phone were coming from the funeral home after I gave my speech. That’s when he started suspecting Joe. Then Joe gets into a huge fight with Bernstein last night.”

  “Set up!” Maddy reiterated in a sing song voice. “Set up, set up, set up!”

  “Stop!” Parker closed her eyes. “I’m trying to think!”

  “Set up.” Maddy whispered under a small cough.

  Parker pulled out the phone Julie had given her. “Joe got a call or a text or something while he was getting beers at the bar. Whatever it was, it served as a catalyst for attacking Bernstein. And the damn thing is password protected.”

  “Yet Heller’s phone wasn’t,” added Valerie. “Making those really embarrassing pictures of you accessible to you and the Sheriff.”

  “Thanks,” Parker frowned. “That set up the warrant to search Joe’s place, where Bill and his guys found the murder weapon.” Parker’s eyes bulged. “Joe was set up!”

  “Oh, wow, really?” Maddy scoffed. “No duh!”

  “But it’s messy,” said Parker. “The whole thing feels really messy.”

  Maddy plucked Joe’s phone out of Parker’s hands. “What do you think is on this phone?”

  “Without the password, we can’t know.” Parker kneaded her fingers together. “But there’s a music teacher sitting in a hospital bed on the other side of town who does know.”

  Maddy’s jaw dropped at the revelation that Mr. Bernstein was still at the center of the storm. There was no denying it.

  Parker eyed her daughter carefully, unsure if she was about to scream or burst into tears.

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” asked Maddy. “Are you going to find out what Bernstein knows or just sit there?”

  Parker leaned back. “You’re – okay with this?”

  “You’re so close to figuring it all out, Mom! I can feel it!”

  Parker checked her watch. “It’s getting late, visiting hours will be over soon.”

  “Then you better move, woman!”

  Parker stood up, staring at her daughter with a mixture of pride and fear. “Maddy. This isn’t a game. A man is in jail, another was nearly beaten death, and your vice principal may have been shot because of what is on this phone. Learning its secret could put us all in terrible danger. Do you understand?”

  “Who knows you have that phone?” asked Valerie.

  “Only Julie. I didn’t want to tell Bill about it and have to surrender it just yet. I still don’t.”

  “You need backup,” stated Valerie.

  “You need a plan,” added Maddy.

  Parker pushed her hands together as if in prayer. “I need something more important than either of those.”

  94.

  With all the traffic lights and turns…

  Memorial Hospital was easily a twenty-minute drive through the city of Oak Creek from Valerie’s house. The Sheriff’s department was located on the opposite side of town, also twenty minutes away, making each of the three locations an edge of a perfect triangle. As Parker drove the route crowded with the last of the day’s commuter traffic, she couldn’t help but wonder how quickly an ambulance could make the same trip with the sirens on. Valerie’s house might be picturesque, but hardly the ideal setting for an emergency response.

  Let’s hope we don’t need it.

  Visiting hours ended at 8pm, leaving Parker a good fifteen minutes by the time she’d parked and rode the elevator up to the 3rd floor. The nurse at the desk informed her that Gerome Bernstein’s condition had stabilized, and he’d been moved from ICU to a standard hospital bed. “Room 351, at the corner down the hall,” a young and bubbly blonde nurse informed. “He’s still very weak, so don’t get him too excited.”

  Parker smirked. You have no idea. She glanced down the empty corridor, as most nurses had gone home for the night. “Does he share a room with another patient?”

  “No, he’s in a single.” The nurse presented a sign-in book. “Please write your name, who you’re visiting and the date and time.”

  “I suppose there’s been a steady stream of visitors today,” mused Parker.

  “Oh, sure, a lot of teachers have dropped by showing their support. Gerome is such a sweet guy.”

  Parker quickly scanned the sign-in log, noting the names. As the nurse had stated, teachers had filed in one after the other since school rang out. Parker flipped the page back and forth, pretending to misunderstand where to sign as she double checked the names. “I’m sorry, where do I sign this thing?”

  The nurse pointed to the latest blank entry and chuckled.

  “Thanks. I hope his wife brought him some of her world-famous lemonade.”

  The nurse tilted her head. “Oh. Probably. I didn’t realize he was married.”

  Parker could not find Imelda’s name anywhere on the log-in.

  The nurse looked off to the side, trying to recall. “But I met his brother,” she added. “Or was it his half-brother, maybe?”

  Parker’s memory flashed back to the Sheriff’s office, where she had met Victor, presumed brother to Imelda, uncle to Pedro. Sure enough, Parker located the name Victor Cortez near the end of the ledger. He’d signed in almost an hour ago. “Victor,” stated Parker. “Brother-in-law.” Parker finished signing her name.

  “Thanks. You’ll have about fifteen minutes, okay?”

  Parker nodded and slowly walked toward the end of the hallway. The tall and thin window in the door framed a pathetic portrait of a sleeping Bernstein tucked into the covers of a metal framed bed with the back angled up. Oxygen tubes curled around his purple ears and into a nose protected by a metal guard. Gerome’s right eye was completely covered with white gauss wrapped around his skull. Three lines of stitches marked his forehead, one on his cheek. A large mandible type cover protected his jaw. His skin boasted a depressing rainbow of blue, black, green and purple shades.

  Parker gently pushed the door open and walked into the room, allowing it to close behind her. The loud clicking of the door latch announced her presence. “Hello, Mr. Bernstein.”

  Bernstein’s one eye opened. With a tired groan, he tried to turn his head to better identify his visitor. “You,” he grumbled with a slur. “Visiting hours are over.”

  “I’m told I’ve got fifteen minutes.”

  “Go away.” His hand reached for the corded call button with which to call the nurse.

  Parker gently pulled the button away. “I need to ask you some questions first.”

  “Nurse!” Bernstein tried screaming, but his lungs could barely muster a whimper as he cringed with pain. “Nurse!” he cried in a whisper. The exertion proved to be too much.

  Parker’s ear
s caught a spike of Bernstein’s pulse beeping on the heart monitor. But it settled when he took a breath. “If you want the nurse to come in I can go get her,” offered Parker. “She might want to see what I brought to show you.” Parker lifted Joe Ward’s cell phone in front of Gerome’s good eye. She pressed the home button to activate the main screen, which prompted a password over a picture of Joe and his Ranger platoon posing somewhere in a desert.

  Bernstein’s eye widened.

  “That’s right,” said Parker. “Joe Ward gave me his phone.” She lowered the phone and turned it to face her. Her thumbs jabbed at the screen as she pretended to unlock it.

  Bernstein’s pulse steadily rose.

  “Now, I’ve seen some crazy shit in my time,” continued Parker. “But I can admit when I don’t understand something.” Parker contorted her face into an expression of disgust as she pretended to swipe through pictures on the phone. “Help me understand, Mr. Bernstein. What is this all about?”

  Bernstein’s pulse spiked, as a tear welled up in his eye. His lips trembled. “You don’t understand,” he whined.

  “I want to. Help me understand.”

  Bernstein began to sob uncontrollably. “I never hurt any of them! I would never do that!”

  Parker tried not to react. She needed more. “I want to believe you.”

  “I loved them! I loved each of those boys!”

  Parker’s stomach wrenched into knots. Oh hell. Is this what I think it is? “Who are these boys?” she demanded.

  “They were asleep the whole time. They never felt anything, I promise you! I wouldn’t hurt them! I loved them!”

  “Give me names.”

  Bernstein’s expression twisted from sadness to abject terror. “Oh no! They’ll kill me!” he gasped.

  “Who will? Joe? A cartel?” Parker gritted her teeth. She needed more information but couldn’t tip her hand. “I can get you protection, Gerome, but you have to tell me who you need it from!”

  Bernstein shook his head no. “No, no, no, no, no, no they’ll kill me!”

  “Give me a name!”

  Bernstein sobbed, shaking his head back and forth. He writhed in agony, until finally, his lips parted to utter two words.

  One name.

  A revelation that pierced Parker’s heart like a dagger of ice.

  95.

  “What is going on in here?”

  yelled the nurse as she charged into Bernstein’s room. “His heart rate is off the charts!”

  Parker slowly stood up, numbed by the information she’d just received.

  Bernstein cried uncontrollably.

  “Get out!” shouted the nurse. She pointed to the door. “Get out of here, now!”

  Parker walked out of the hospital room, brushing shoulders with two other nurses who rushed in to tend to Bernstein.

  This changes everything.

  Parker’s heart thumped against her chest wall so hard it hurt. She gently pressed her hand to her breast in an attempt to slow it down, as she wandered aimlessly down the hall. She was excited, terrified and mortified all at the same time.

  The last piece of the puzzle. It’s all starting to make sense now!

  “Parker?” asked a familiar voice. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

  Parker looked up to see Sheriff Bill standing directly in her path. His eyes darted every which way as he scanned her.

  “Are you hurt?” asked the Sheriff.

  Parker swallowed. “I’m in -- shock.”

  Bill took a deep breath. “You’re scaring me, Parker. What happened? What are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?” Parker asked back.

  “The teacher came to the station and made his statement. I thought I’d follow up with Bernstein to ask him about what he saw on Joe Ward’s phone.” Bill’s eyes narrowed. “Did Bernstein tell you something?”

  It’s too soon. I can’t blow this.

  Parker’s mind raced with new scenarios and explanations. She remapped puzzle pieces, trying new configurations to slot them in. As the picture began to coalesce, one thing was glaringly obvious. “Danger,” she whispered.

  “Danger?”

  Parker blinked. She pointed back to Bernstein’s room. “Bernstein’s life is in danger. You need to put a guard at his door. Tonight.”

  “Joe Ward can’t hurt him anymore.”

  “He’s not worried about Joe Ward.”

  Bill clenched his jaw. “You’re acting really funny, Parker. What did Bernstein say?”

  “You’re not going to believe me.”

  “Try me.”

  “No,” Parker slowly shook her head. “I have to show you.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll step you through it. Every point. But I need my notes. They’re in my house.”

  Bill pulled up on his belt buckle. He looked Parker up and down, as if still trying to assess her state of mind. “Alright. If that’s what you need.” He said calmly. “How about I follow you back to your house? You get your notes, then we’ll go to the station.”

  Parker nodded. “First, you need to put a guard at that man’s door.” She pointed back to Bernstein’s room.

  Bill offered a complicit smile. “Whatever you say, Parker.” He reached to his shoulder walkie and called it in, never taking his eyes off Parker. “Okay, now, let’s get you home.”

  Parker remained quiet as she and Bill rode the elevator down to the main lobby. Bill kept his distance, not wanting to upset her even more. When they hopped in their respective cars, Parker led the way back through town. Twenty minutes exactly.

  A lot can happen in twenty minutes. I just hope it’s long enough.

  When Parker finally pulled into her driveway, her eyes scanned across an unfamiliar car parked in front of the house. A tall and slender woman was knocking at Valerie’s door. No one answered.

  Parker eased her minivan to a halt, flanked by the Sheriff’s car next to her. As the two of them climbed out of their cars, Bill looked to Parker. He put one hand on his gun holster, then directed his gaze toward the woman at the door. The woman spun on her heel to face the Sheriff, a puzzled expression on her face.

  “Principal Mendez,” greeted Bill. “What are you doing here?”

  96.

  Mendez’s eyes narrowed as she looked the Sheriff over.

  She nodded to Parker. “Ms. Monroe invited me,” she answered calmly. “I’m a bit surprised to see you, Sheriff.”

  Parker turned to Bill to explain. “I texted Mendez on the drive over. I thought she would want to hear what I have to say.”

  “Parker, I don’t know if that is such a good idea,” said Bill.

  I don’t know if it is either, thought Parker. But I’ve already rolled the dice.

  “No one is home,” stated Mendez. She pointed to the darkened windows. “Where is your family?”

  “They must have gone out,” answered Parker, moving toward the front door. Her keys jingled as she retrieved them from her purse. “It’s better that way. No one will interrupt us.” Parker unlocked the door and pushed it open. She turned back to find a puzzled Mendez and Bill standing at the top of the driveway. “Are you coming?”

  Bill extended his hand for Mendez to go first. The two quietly followed Parker into the dark entryway. A shaft of light from the back of the house served as a guide through the front room and into the kitchen. Parker plucked a handwritten note off the refrigerator:

  Took the kids to a movie – Val

  Mendez examined the crude crayoned colorings on index cards spread about the kitchen table. “Your children’s artwork?”

  Parker reached for the cupboard. “They’re Ally’s. Either of you thirsty? A lemonade perhaps?”

  Bill let out an impatient sigh. “Parker, what is this about? You said you needed your notes.”

  “You’re looking at them.” Parker grabbed three glasses from the cupboard.

  “These?” Mendez chose one of Ally’s colorings to better i
nspect it. The drawing was an erratic black circle of crayon scribbles.

  “That one is of you, Principal Mendez.” Parker swooped over to the fridge and retrieved a cold glass pitcher of lemonade. She filled each glass on the counter top. “I think Ally did a hell of a job capturing your -- essence.”

  “It’s a black hole,” noted Mendez.

  “Right?”

  Bill placed his hands over his nose in an attempt to hide his scowl. He failed. “Parker, why don’t we go down to the station? Principal Mendez can go home, and you and I can have a long talk.”

  Parker pushed the lemonade glasses toward her guests. “Let’s have a drink first.” Parker’s eyes reddened. “I insist.”

  “I’ll pass,” said Bill tersely.

  Mendez lifted her hands in gentle protest. “No, thank you.”

  “Neither of you took the glass,” noted Parker. “Maybe you don’t trust me. Maybe you think I put something in it.” She lifted a glass and took a few gulps. “Date rape drugs are so advanced these days, you’d never know if your drink was spiked until it was too late. You’d wake up disoriented, usually with no memory of what happened other than a foreboding sense of not feeling quite right. But you know what? You offer lemonade to a child? Or a drink that tasted just as sweet? They’d drink that shit almost every time. Most of them wouldn’t even care where it came from. Especially if it was from a trusted music teacher who, unbeknownst to them, had sick urges to molest little boys.”

  “What?” Mendez gasped angrily. “Are you saying--?”

  “Gerome Bernstein is a serial pedophile. He confessed as much to me tonight.”

  Bill cringed. “Why would he confess that?”

  Parker tossed a phone onto the kitchen table. “Because, I showed him what was on Joe Ward’s cell phone.” If the lie can work once, it can work twice.

  Mendez and Bill stared at the cell phone on the table in stunned silence. Parker folded her arms, watching each of them carefully.

  Mendez picked up the phone and held it. “Well? Show us what’s on the phone!”

  Parker frowned. She angrily opened the fridge again to return the pitcher of lemonade. “Why don’t you ask the Sheriff?”