The Water

by Nancy Jackson

  Anthony looked down at his lap where he had balled his hands into fists, the remains of the sandwich became mangled in the process. His beloved sandwich, a symbol of continuity was unedible now. It was her fault.

  The girl was young and sweet and beautiful, and she was confused at Anthony’s behaviour. Should I help him? Should I call someone? He could be having a stroke and here I sit, she thought.

  Anthony recovered, somewhat, and pulled the squished remains from his palm. His lips were pursed together in disdain. That girl didn’t belong here. How dare she talk to him?

  He could tell she was a whore who seduced men in the night, just as his mother had done. Why was she here in the daytime, he wondered?

  He cleaned his hand with a paper towel he’d carried with his lunch. He refused to give up his bench to this trollop. He would defend his right to sit there on his lunch break just as he did every day.

  He sat up taller, smoothed down his short-sleeved white dress shirt and straightened his pocket protector. Three pens, red, blue, and black, and a mechanical pencil. All were fine.

  The girl sat casually on the bench seeing that the man appeared to be fine. She had a wispy short skirt on, and the gentle breeze brushed it along the outside of her thigh. She had crossed her legs causing the skirt to hike up higher.

  Anthony gulped. Did this whore know she was showing off most of her leg, almost up to her panties? Yet in his indignation, the stirring in his loins continued to grow. He would have to relinquish the bench after all.

  But he couldn’t stand up. She would know. Her power over him would be complete. He would have to get himself under control and then leave.

  “Do you work around here?” she asked.

  Anthony’s eyes darted around. “Yes, I work in that bank over there. I work in the accounting department.”

  “I work at the gift shop in the Skirvin Plaza.”

  It confused Anthony. She had a real job? His mind tried to fight its way through the confusion. If she had a real job, she must work both at night and during the day. He was certain.

  “How do you work all night and all day too?” Anthony wanted an answer.

  “What do you mean? I only work at the gift shop.” Her forehead was pinched in confusion and she was feeling concerned. “I have to get back now. Have a good day.” The girl stood to leave, the gentle breeze still raising and lowering her short soft skirt around her firm thighs.

  Anthony nodded and watched the girl walk away. She was a whore. He knew she was. Anger boiled inside of him. How dare she lie? She needed to be clean.

  Suddenly he brightened. He could help her with that, he could help her become clean.

  “It’s too hot to keep sitting here,” said Carrie.

  The interaction between the man and woman had ended when the girl had walked away. The man remained for a few minutes then got up and walked away also, both going in opposite directions.

  “So, we still have an hour and a half before Gary Bright is due at the garage. Got any ideas or should we fight traffic back to the office only to drive right back?” Randy asked.

  Carrie looked at Randy. She knew he was hiding something from her, but she couldn’t be mad at him. He had made a promise to someone to keep quiet about what he and Bracket were discussing and she had to honor that.

  “Let’s walk,” said Carrie. She got up and walked towards The Skirvin.

  “Okay, where’re we going?” asked Randy.

  “I want to talk to the girl who was on the bench if we can find her.”

  Randy snorted and gave Carrie a sideways glance. “If she is staying at the Skirvin, we’ll likely never find her.”

  “We’re not far behind her. Maybe she’s still in the lobby or something.”

  The rush of cool refrigerated air welcomed Randy and Carrie to the luxury of the Skirvin Hotel. It had been the height of luxury in its early days, then through the years found decay and neglect it’s only friend. But not any longer. It had been faithfully restored and stood grand and elegant once again. The soaring high ceilings and the rich dark wood caused one to feel like they were stepping back in time.

  Carrie stood, as she always did once she entered, and took it all in. “I never tire of this place and its beauty.”

  Randy was looking up and down the hallways and around the spacious lobby area. There were so many places where the woman could be. She could even be in the same room as them, tucked casually into a deep tufted tall backed sofa, and they would never see her.

  “Where do you suggest we start?” asked Randy.

  “Let’s walk.” Carrie turned and walked through the lobby and towards the back wall of windows. Once there, she casually turned to view the room from that angle.

  Randy just followed her lead as they roamed through the halls. They passed doors to luxury conference centers, the business center, the lounge, the fitness center, and much more.

  After about thirty minutes of walking, Carrie halted. “Look,” she said and nodded her head in the direction she wished Randy to look.

  There behind the counter of the gift shop stood the woman from the bench. Carrie turned to Randy and grinned. “Looks like we found our needle in a haystack.”

  They casually walked into the gift shop and walked up to the counter. The shop was empty except for the three.

  Carrie flipped out her credentials as did Randy. “I’m Carrie Border with the OSBI and this is Randy Jeffries.” The woman’s eyes grew round. “We just have a question or two to ask. You aren’t in any trouble.”

  The woman’s eyes went from round to slightly suspicious. “What could you possibly want to ask me?”

  “What’s your name?” asked Carrie.

  “Carissa. Carissa Stephens.”

  “Carissa we happened to be out in Kerr Park awhile ago and saw you sitting on a bench with a man. Do you know him?” asked Randy.

  The woman rolled her eyes. “No, thank goodness! He was eight shades of weird.”

  “We saw you talking with him. Would you mind telling us how your conversation went?” asked Carrie.

  “Not much of a conversation. I sat down because it was in the shade. I like to try to walk outside on my break even though it’s horribly hot. That was the only bench in the shade with an open spot to sit.

  “I sat down and was just casual, said hi or something. He got all rigid and acted like I had just sat on his very own private bench without asking. He got so rigid that his fists balled up and he squished his sandwich. I thought he had had a stroke or something.

  “I asked him what was wrong. It concerned me, but he didn’t even seem to realize what he had done. He kind of came out of his fit, or whatever it was, and said he was fine.

  “Then he asked me about my job and how could I work both nights and days. That gave me the creeps! I don’t work anywhere but here, but it was as if he was certain I worked nights. I got up and left after that.”

  Carissa’s brows were furrowed and her pleasant smile was gone. “Should I be afraid of him?” Carissa asked.

  “Have you seen him around here before?” asked Randy.

  Carissa gave a tight shake of her head still frowning.

  “We know nothing about him, but we were watching your interaction with him and thought it was odd. We wanted to make sure you were okay since you left so abruptly,” Carrie smiled at the young woman. She wanted to put her at ease.

  “I’m fine. But he’s weird. Kind of makes me afraid to go back out in the park or on the street.”

  “Please don’t feel like that. We have no reason to believe you are in danger. But as you know, a young woman like you should always be cautious when out walking alone. Just be aware of your surroundings,” said Randy.

  “Here’s my card. If you feel threatened by him again, or if you think of anything else to add that you didn’t think of, please call me,” Carrie said as Carissa took the card from her outstretched hand.

  Carissa read the card and pulled out a small blue purse from under the count
er and tucked the card safely inside. “I will.”

  Both Carrie and Randy gave Carissa reassuring smiles and walked out of the gift shop. They walked back to the lobby and Carrie found a plush chair and sat down. Randy sat in the matching chair beside her.

  “What are you thinking?” asked Randy. He could tell she was thinking and thinking hard.

  “I can’t pull it together. I can feel something, sense something, but can’t seem to pull it into focus.”

  “The man is creepy. That’s certain, but Carissa is not a prostitute and we have no reason to think that man has anything to do with our case,” said Randy.

  Carrie looked Randy’s face over while she was thinking. His eyes were listening to her, not just his ears. His unruly dark hair was falling on his forehead and his laugh lines were relaxed and barely noticeable. He said I was his favorite partner.

  “Carrie?” asked Randy. “What are you thinking?”

  Carrie shook her head to refocus on Randy’s question. “Remember the part where Carissa said the man was certain she worked nights? What if he thinks she works night as a prostitute? What if he has just put a target on Carissa’s back as his next victim?”

  Randy sat thinking. That was odd. Had they missed part of the conversation between the man and Carissa? Had she left something out? “Why do you think he assumed she worked nights?”

  Carrie had turned and was tracing the pattern of the area rug in her mind as she thought. She was picturing the young woman. “She is young and beautiful. Did you notice what she was wearing?” Carrie turned towards Randy.

  “Just some kind of sundress. Normal for this heat.”

  “It was, and she looked very enticing in it. It was very short and was made from a wispy fabric that fluttered around her legs in the breeze. The top only had tiny spaghetti straps. I would think it would be quite enticing to a man.” Carrie left her meaning hanging in the air to see if Randy would take it and run with it.

  “You think the man thought Carrissa was a prostitute because she was wearing that skimpy little dress?”

  Carrie’s eyebrow cocked upwards as did one side of her mouth. She waited for Randy to chew on it awhile longer. It was certainly a stretch, and the odds were long they had just stumbled onto this man, a person of interest, by accident.

  Randy was shaking his head. “I can’t stretch that far. I think we are so desperate to get this guy we are trying to shove square pegs into round holes.”

  Carrie breathed deep and nodded. Randy was right. At the first sign of something weird she had tried to force it into a lead. “You’re right. We can’t waste time on a long shot like this. What time is it?”

  Randy looked at his watch. “By the time we go get the car and drive back to the garage it will be close to time. We can park in the garage, and it will at least be cooler in there than waiting for him outside.

  In just fifteen minutes Randy was pulling their SUV into the Cox Center underground parking. The window to their side of the booth was closed, but Randy stopped and held up his credentials.

  The lady in the booth opened the window. “Yes?” she asked.

  “I’m Randy Jeffries with the OSBI. We want to speak with Gary Bright. He comes on shift at three, correct?”

  “Yes, he does.”

  “We want to drive in and wait,” said Randy.

  The lady nodded and indicated they would have to take a ticket from the machine.

  Since they had a few minutes, they drove the vast underground parking garage and discussed conversations they had had with Jenny about the times she and Cami had met men there after events.

  At five minutes until three they drove back to the east entrance and parked as close as possible. They watched as the shift changed in the booth.

  Gary was about five feet ten inches tall, relatively fit, and average looking. “He looks like a nerd,” said Carrie.

  Randy chuckled. “You would know.” And then ducked as Carrie’s hand shot out at him from across the front seat of the car.

  They gave Gary a few minutes to settle in and let the previous person leave, then walked over to the booth.

  Flashing his credentials and smiling, Randy gave his name and that he was from the OSBI. “We would like to talk to you about Cami Anderson.” Randy showed Cami’s picture to Gary.

  Gary looked at the picture and a gentle smile crossed his face. He looked at Randy in the eye as he said, “I knew her. She and Jenny would come around here often. They were sweet girls. I know that girls like that have a reputation of being hard and crude, but they weren’t. I felt sorry for them. Sorry they had to make their money that way.”

  The initial surprise response that Randy and Carrie had hoped to see was one of compassion. Gary wasn’t their killer, but maybe he had seen who was.

  “Gary, can you think of who might have done this? I know you probably watched over them here in the garage, so you would have noticed anyone that might have gotten rough with them or someone who might have seemed off to you,” said Carrie.

  Gary was nodding. “I’ve thought about it a lot, ever since it happened.” His eyes drifted off somewhere then back. “But, there isn’t anyone. I’m sorry.”

  Carrie reached out and handed Gary her card with the same directions as always to call her.

  Once back in the car, they buckled their seat belts in an air of silent discouragement. The drive back to the office was quiet, but most of Carrie’s thoughts were not on Gary and the murders, but of her pending appointment with the agency shrink. She would rather be out sitting on that hot bench in Kerr park again rather than in the hot seat of Dr. Lee’s office.

  Chapter 16

  “Carrie, it’s Randy. Bracket’s in the hospital.” Randy’s voice jolted Carrie out of her middle-of-the-night slumber. She tried to snap her mind to attention so she could dive into action.

  “I’m up,” she said as she scurried out of bed and into the clothes she had left lying on the floor from earlier in the night.

  “What happened? What hospital?” Carrie asked as she continued dressing.

  “They aren’t exactly sure what happened, but they think it’s a heart attack. I guess his wife woke up when he got up in the middle of the night not feeling well. She recognized what she thought were heart attack signs and rushed him to the hospital, against his will of course.”

  “I’m on my way,” said Carrie as she rushed out her front door.

  It was three in the morning and still over eighty degrees. She remembered the panic she had felt over eight years prior, when she had jumped into her car to rush to the hospital, when her parents had their car wreck. There is no panic like this panic, she thought.

  She rushed into the emergency room and saw Randy sitting with Diane, Bracket’s wife. She realized they were deep in conversation so approached quietly with no fanfare.

  They both recognized her and stood to greet her. “Tell me everything and if there is any news.” Carrie’s heart was beating so hard that she was sure they could hear it above her words.

  The three settled into the cold waiting room chairs and Diane told the story. He had gotten up in the middle of the night unable to sleep. When she noticed he had been up for a while, she got up to look for him. He was in the kitchen scrounging in the fridge for something to eat.

  That is when Diane saw him massaging his left arm. Ignoring his protests, she forced him into the car and drove to the hospital. She only slid clothes on as quickly as she could.

  “He’s in surgery. They were going to only put stints in to correct the problem, but realized that the extent of the damage was so severe they felt surgery was the best option,” Diane concluded.

  Carrie reached out and patted Diane’s hand. She would have liked to say it would be all right, but what if it wasn’t? It didn’t always turn out okay. It hadn’t for Carrie and her parents.

  “We’re here for you,” was all Carrie could say, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough.

  Their conversation had quickly receded to s
ilence. No one knew what to say once the adrenaline of fight or flight had begun to wain. They sat for what seemed like an eternity, and finally their eyes greeted the sun as it came through the windows, illuminating the day.

  Carrie was struggling with exhaustion. She had only crawled into bed two hours before receiving Randy’s call. She’d once again been out at the bar. She was proud of herself though; she had only had three or four whiskey’s before stopping at midnight so she could sober up to drive home. She was making progress, or so she thought.

  It was six-thirty when Randy’s phone buzzed. He looked at the screen and frowned. “Hello, Randy Jeffries.”

  Carrie watched his face as he talked. She knew the gist of what he heard through his phone and was ready to bolt as soon as he hung up.

  He looked at her and said, “That was Mike. There’s another body.”

  Bracket was not out of surgery yet and they hated to leave Diane, but they had to go. They issued hugs and words of assurance, requesting she call as soon as she knew anything, then left.

  “Where are we headed?” Carrie asked as she climbed into Randy’s SUV.

  “The body was found, drowned at the southern point of the Bricktown canal. It is almost under I-40 and only about a half mile west of the first drowning.”

  Carrie’s mind was working hard. It had already pushed out the fog of fatigue and hangover and was now fully engaged in the case. She wondered, what if it’s Carissa? What if we could have done something to have saved her yesterday?

  “What if it is Carissa?” Carrie finally voiced out loud.

  “Huh? Carissa?” asked Randy thoroughly distracted.

  “From yesterday.”

  Randy remembered and glanced at Carrie. “No. It won’t be her.”

  Carrie nodded and rode the rest of the way in silence.

  The usual cars and personnel were at the scene. When Carrie walked up, Mike said, “Rough night?”

  “Bracket is in the hospital. As soon as I heard, I grabbed what was on the floor and put it on. It will work until I can do better.”