The Water

by Nancy Jackson

  Randy led the group as he went through their thoughts on the three competitors of Gus. He ticked off reasons both why they might be and why they might not be the killer.

  Carrie then followed up with her thoughts on the garage attendant. She really wanted to do his interview and hoped that Mike and Rick would do the others. Soon they agreed.

  The next item to discuss was Sam.

  “I just feel in my gut that she’s connected to this somehow. She could be dead, drowned and we just haven’t found her body yet. The guy who took her, or rather who she willingly went with, could be the killer,” said Carrie.

  “Or, it might not be related at all,” Randy concluded.

  “True, but doesn’t it seem strange to you guys that a young girl would go with this man that her parents don’t seem to know, willingly? Cami didn’t even think it was strange,” said Carrie.

  “We’ve been hard on that thread. We did get a maybe and had a sketch artist do a rendering.” Mike pulled out his phone and sent it to both Randy and Carrie.

  “The problem is,” Mike continued, “is, that the sketch is iffy. We went back to the guy at the store and he said it could be him, but the sketch didn’t help him connect it to anyone he knew.”

  “Did any of the neighbors or girls' friends act as though they knew who he was or why the girls were going with him?” Carrie asked.

  “One girl said she thought, and I emphasize thought, that he was the caretaker of the old amusement park,” Rick said.

  “Really?” Carrie was growing excited. After days of feeling lost on this case she suddenly felt hope rising from various sources.

  “We can’t find him though. The park was cleaned up and sold, then in less than a year the owner died,” said Mike.

  Just when she thought they were about to catch a break, it vanished. But they still had good leads. They would find out who did this.

  “What about the two remaining sisters? The mom didn’t know where they were when we were there. Have you talked to them since?” Carrie asked Rick.

  “Yeah, we found them. The thing is, the two older girls, Cami and Sam hung to themselves. The two younger girls did the same. They had no idea what Cami and Sam were up to. I tend to believe them,” said Rick.

  “What about the picture of them all at the old amusement park? There were all there then. What did they say about that?” Randy asked.

  “They remembered that day, but it was not normal for them to all be together. That is one reason they took the photo. Adelaide or Addy as they call her had a picture of all four of them at the park.” Rick stopped for impact and raised his eyebrows. Carrie was sharp. How long would it take her to get it?

  “All four? Who took the picture?” Carrie asked almost immediately.

  “You don’t miss a beat, do you?” Rick laughed. “Yep, all four of them. Addy couldn’t remember. Maybe a guy who worked there.” Rick was smiling big.

  Carrie paced the room. She was deep in thought and trying to form random threads into a revealing tapestry.

  “What if that guy in the car was the caretaker, and they tasked him with cleaning up the old park and getting it ready for sale? The girls knew him from the park, from going there, so he didn’t really seem like a stranger to them.”

  Carrie looked up at the three guys. “Then what if on the day Sam went with the man, he said he needed more help so she went with him to help him?” Carrie paused looking for comment.

  Their faces were all deep in thought. They were weaving their own tapestries in their minds.

  “What about Cami not going with them? If he needed help, then wouldn’t they have both gone?” asked Mike.

  “Maybe, unless he said he only needed one of them that day. Or, if Cami had something else she had to do later, and couldn’t go.”

  They had ideas that made sense, but they were only theories. What they needed was some kind of proof. But they were getting closer, Carrie thought.

  The meeting had been fruitful, and Mike and Rick left with additional assignments.

  Carrie was avoiding looking at Randy and busied herself straightening files and organizing them back into their boxes.

  Randy stood watching her. Something was wrong, and he didn’t know what. She’d been fine when he left her earlier, but when he had met up with her after being in Bracket’s office she seemed nervous.

  “Carrie what’s wrong?” Randy asked.

  She only missed a beat in her organizing when hearing Randy’s question. “Nothing, why do you ask?” She was suddenly putting her full effort into acting as though there was nothing at all wrong.

  “You’ve been weird towards me ever since I left you in here and came back from Bracket’s office.”

  Carrie shrugged, still straightening. A hand on her shoulder stopped her nervous busyness. She still hadn’t looked at him.

  “Do you think we were in there talking about you or something pertaining to you?” Randy asked.

  Carrie turned towards Randy but didn’t raise her head to look him in the eye. Instead, she looked to the side past him.

  “Were you?” Carrie asked.

  Randy snorted a laugh and dropped his hand from her shoulder. “No. Look at me Carrie.” Randy waited until Carrie held his gaze.

  “We have not been talking about you.” His words were slow and deliberate.

  “So what were you talking about?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  Anger gripped Carrie, and she pressed her mouth in a firm line. “Fine.” She turned and walked out of the room.

  Chapter 15

  Traffic downtown was as relentless as ever with all the continued construction. Making their way to the bank was a challenge.

  As Randy drove, Carrie was lost in the thought of her dangerous pursuit through downtown. Barricades flying, near collisions with a car, and the train. The thought of the train still made Carrie sick to her stomach.

  She had told no one how close she had come, only that the SUV had gotten across the tracks before her, and that she had had to stop because of the train.

  No one knew how close to death she had come. She wouldn’t tell them either. They would bench her for sure. The antics they knew had put her on an unspoken watch. She would not tell the agency psychotherapist either when she met with her later in the day. She had to hold that secret close to her chest.

  They parked in the Kerr Parking Garage just across from the bank and catty-corner from Kerr Park. Carrie had always loved that little park tucked into the hustle and bustle of downtown.

  Once inside the bank, they showed their credentials and were escorted to Gary Bright’s supervisor’s office on the second floor.

  “Gary has left for the day. He works mornings here and then I believe he checks in at the Cox garage to work the evening shift at around three. I’m sorry. You just missed him.”

  Carrie looked at Randy and neither said anything for a moment. Then the supervisor said, “Would you like me to call him?”

  “No, we would like to just meet with him face to face without him expecting us. But we would like his phone number,” said Randy.

  “Well… I’m not sure if I should give that out. You don’t have a warrant do you?” The supervisor was standing now and clasping her hands together in front of her as if she wasn’t sure what to do with them.

  “True, we don’t have a warrant but all we are asking for is his phone number. You yourself offered to call him for us. We can jump through hoops to get a warrant, but then we would probably make its scope very broad so it wouldn’t be wasted. You know… where we would search any and everything here in the bank that Gary ever came in contact with…" Carrie was so calm, but her stare was quite pointed.

  “Okay, okay. I know what you are trying to do. You want to intimidate me into doing something I shouldn’t.” She was visibly disturbed.

  “No worries. We’ll get it on our own. But we will remember your lack of cooperation,” said Randy as they both turned to go.

  “I
s he in serious trouble?” The supervisor called after them. She bore a deeply concerned look on her face and her posture was tense.

  “Not right now. We only want to talk with him,” said Randy.

  The supervisor nodded. Her head bobbed up and down in a broken, jerky movement. “Okay, here it is,” she said as she bent down to scribble out Gary’s number.

  Carrie smiled a crooked smile and nodded her head. “Thank you.”

  Once out the door Randy said, “Well, we have three whole hours before Gary is at the garage. I’m hungry. Let’s get lunch.”

  “Sure, sounds good. I would like to spend a little time down here, anyway. After we eat, let’s sit over in Kerr Park and watch. This is the killers world. Everything draws us back to downtown. The drowning sites, the girls, Pride’s, the Safe At Last house, Gary, it all points back here.”

  Randy nodded. “What do you want? We’ve got Park Avenue Grill at the Skirvin, Coolgreens just past Kerr Park, and Kitchen 324 close by.”

  “I would love to go to the Skirvin and eat at the Park Avenue Grill,” said Carrie. “I’m in the mood for someplace nice, but they don’t open until five.”

  They finally decided on Kitchen 324, and both ordered the Fried Chicken Pot Pie. While waiting, Randy brought up the change in Carrie’s mood again.

  “I don’t know what happened this morning, but I would like to discuss it,” said Randy.

  Looking straight at Randy, Carrie said, “I think you and Bracket are hiding something from me. I’ve seen both of you in Bracket’s office together several times pow-wowing. When I walk into the room, you both hush and wait until I leave to finish your conversation.”

  Randy let out a deep sigh and sat back in his chair. He wasn’t supposed to tell her, not yet anyway. “I can’t discuss it. I know you are my partner, but I promised that I wouldn’t. I can assure you that it has absolutely nothing to do with you. You have nothing to be worried about.”

  “Why can’t you tell me then what it is about? You do understand after all that has gone on with me why it concerns me, right?” Carrie was leaning into the table towards Randy. She was speaking adamantly, but quietly so those at the other tables couldn’t hear.

  Randy smiled at his partner. “You are the best partner I’ve ever had. You’re my friend too. I get so angry at you sometimes…,” Randy shook his head and continued, “but I can’t stay mad at you. We’ve been through too much together. Carrie you are an amazing agent and an amazing person, even if you have trouble believing that.”

  Carrie sat looking skeptically at Randy. Was he merely flattering her to appease her, she wondered.

  “You have one of the sharpest minds I know. You don’t miss a beat. You can come up with theories out of nowhere that are often right on target. It’s been an honor being your partner.” Oops, thought Randy.

  Carrie frowned and studied his face. She wasn’t sure she bought all that sharp mind stuff, but she was sure of one thing, she was sharp enough to catch that last slip up.

  “Has been?” Carrie asked. “It has been an honor being my partner?”

  Randy just waved his hand as if it was just a silly slip of the tongue and nothing more, but he had succeeded in turning his stomach into waves of nausea.

  “It is an honor being your partner. Don’t go reading anything into it.”

  Just then their food was ready. The fried chicken pot pie was wonderful as always. The lunch crowd was at its peak, and the room was noisy, so Randy and Carrie ate quietly enjoying each bite.

  When neither one had a morsel of food left on the plate, they sat back in their chairs and just stared at each other. Carrie suddenly burst out laughing.

  “Good grief, it’s awful that after all these years we can just look at each other and know what the other one is thinking,” said Carrie.

  Randy grinned and nodded his head. “Well, let’s get out of here.” Randy threw a generous tip on the table and they headed out the door.

  The August sun bore straight down on them. Carrie straightened her cap and sat her sunglasses on her nose. “It was my idea to sit out in Kerr Park and watch, but I don’t know how long I can stand the heat,” said Carrie.

  “There’s a bench over there in the shade. Let’s give it some time and see,” replied Randy.

  They sat down on a vacant bench underneath a tree and watched. There were people walking across the park from building to building going about their daily business. Most were dressed in business clothes.

  Carrie sat back on the bench with her legs crossed and one arm slung across the back of the bench. A couple on a bench diagonally to her right caught her attention.

  They weren’t together, she could tell, but they were having a casual conversation. She wasn’t sure what it was about them that had caught her eye, so she continued to watch.

  “Randy, do you see those two on the bench to my right?” Carrie asked.

  Randy barely swiveled his head to look without making it apparent. “Yep.”

  “Does that man look familiar to you?”

  Randy repositioned himself and turned to look directly at Carrie. This would give him another nonobvious viewpoint. “Yeah. Wasn’t he the man from the diner we thought Jenny had referred to the other day?”

  Recognition flooded Carrie. That was it. He was the man in the diner. “How odd,” Carrie said.

  “Yeah, but he isn’t the one that Jenny was referring to when she was talking about being uncomfortable. It was that man in the suit.”

  They both sat for several more minutes watching the man and woman on the bench. Partially from lack of anyone else to watch, and partly from the couple’s odd interaction.

  “She’s really young,” commented Carrie.

  “I wonder what he’s saying to her,” said Randy. “She has a strange look on her face. I can’t tell if she is bothered by him or if it’s something else.”

  “He’s strangely odd. First, he looks like he fell out of the 1950s, but of course we talked about that last time. His behaviour is also odd too. Did you see him squish his sandwich?” Carrie looked over at Randy to see his reaction.

  Randy was no longer trying to hide that he was watching them. In fact, he was looking at them openly with his mouth hanging open.

  He looked over at Carrie and then back at the couple. Then after a few more minutes of interaction, the girl got up and walked away. The man sat watching her leave.

  Work was frustrating to Anthony Simmons. He had long prided himself on his perfection. His work was always correct. Lately though, with younger and younger supervisors being hired and lording it over him, he had found less satisfaction, and less praise from those who didn’t appreciate him.

  “Tony where is your report?” asked Brett, Anthony’s immediate supervisor.

  Anthony sat up to his full sitting height and wobbled his head ever so slightly. Through tight lips he replied, “You know my work is excellent, and it is excellent because I take the time to make sure it is. I will have it to you within the hour. And please don’t call me Tony. My name is Anthony as I’ve mentioned many times.”

  Brett looked down at Anthony, disgusted. What was it about him that was so off-putting? “You better,” Brett said as he walked away.

  Anthony was getting older, and he didn’t fit in any longer. There once was a time when the way he looked and talked was not so far off from his other coworkers, but that was a good twenty years ago, or more.

  Since Mother’s death he had struggled to find purpose. Memories of her life pounded him each night in his dreams and shamed him in his days. Sometimes the torment was more than he could stand. His head would pound and he would shake.

  In those times, when he could no longer control the emotions, he felt compelled to do something, to help someone, someone like his mother. He was beginning to see his real purpose in life, and his desire to be at this lifeless human-grind of a job, dwindled each day.

  He had always looked forward to his lunch break. Getting out of that stifling plac
e refreshed him. He didn’t understand the ways of the younger people, the millennials he had heard them called. They weren’t rigid and structured the way he was, the way he felt the need to be.

  It was another hot August day, but he found a bench in downtown Kerr Park where there was shade. He always stayed away from the Air Force Monument Statue. Its nudity troubled Anthony greatly, and he felt it vulgar. Yes, the man was draped with a small cloth over his lower abdomen, but that was just not enough.

  The zipper baggie tore at the top as Anthony tried to open it to retrieve his sandwich. Frustrated, he vowed to buy the more expensive brand, but who was he kidding, he had to pinch every penny he had.

  There would be no more promotions for Anthony, not since he had become an antiquated fixture at work. They couldn’t fire him, he had been there for twenty-five years and his work was exemplary. But, they had passed him over many times for promotions; he knew now it would never happen.

  The ham and cheese sandwich with exact equal amounts of mayonnaise and mustard tasted good. Eating the same thing everyday felt good. It was constant, and the sameness comforted Anthony.

  Just as he was about to feel soothed and normal again, a young girl walked by and caught his attention. He tried to not look at her. He turned his head and yet still felt a stirring in his loins.

  Determined to not give up his spot on the bench in the shade, he sat, forcing himself to enjoy his lunch. But his head throbbed and his ears rang. He struggled not to give in to the dizziness that threatened him.

  As he was struggling to maintain control, forcing himself to keep his eyes off of the girl, suddenly she plopped right down beside him on the bench.

  His heart gripped, and he thought he might have a heart attack. He sat rigid, staring straight ahead.

  “Are you okay?” the young girl asked.

  Anthony tried to push her voice out of his mind, but she had asked him a direct question. It would be rude not to respond. “Yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

  “Because you have squished your sandwich in your hand. I thought you might be having a spasm or something. Do I need to call someone for help?”