Silent Pretty Things

by O. J. Lovaz

  “Detective, I can help you with one of your mysteries. The fingerprints. The four fingers on my father’s face. I was the last of the guests to leave the house yesterday, and therefore, the only one to witness that slap, which my father more than deserved, I’m sure you must agree. We were in the kitchen. My father came and made an insincere mock of an apology; I don’t remember the exact words. My mother cursed him like she never had in her life and slapped him really hard. She had needed to do that. Only then, she regained her self-respect. Even my father understood this. He said, ‘I’ll let you get away with this one, this one time.’ Then he went downstairs, and they didn’t speak again.”

  “I do thank you for sharing that, Anna. What a night you had, huh? What a night!” Wozniak looked back and forth between her and Officer Mitchell, who was seemingly scribbling down every word she’d said.

  “It’s a hell of a thing, hell of a thing,” said Officer Mitchell.

  “I can’t help you with the other fingerprints, but I reckon whoever’s fingerprints are on my father’s neck will have a lot of explaining to do.”

  “And a lot of time to serve, probably,” said Wozniak, suddenly looking weary. “Go home now, Anna. You could use some rest.”

  “Yes, you’re right. Good night, gentlemen.”

  As she got in her car, Anna knew exactly what would happen now. She’d seen it in their faces. Letting her walk out of there was just another part of their plan.

  CHAPTER XX

  Anna had only driven one or two miles when she first noticed the gray Crown Victoria; she made a right turn, then a left turn, and the Crown Victoria was still there, staying behind about a hundred meters. She couldn’t identify the driver from that distance, but she had a pretty good idea of who it would be. She purposefully slowed down at a yellow light, enough to get stuck with the red light, with the Crown Victoria approaching slowly until it stopped two or three car lengths behind her. Yes, it was Officer Mitchell.

  Anna took him for a ride to Green Valley Mall. Surely, they would be intercepting and listening to any calls she made from her phone. But that was something she could use—she called a hair salon at the mall and asked if she could come as a walk-in. The snappy lady on the other end of the call told her that she’d have to get there by 6:30, and Anna confirmed that she could make it. Hopefully, if Officer Mitchell was listening in to her call, he’d believe that’s what she was planning to do for the next hour or so. He’d be wrong.

  She parked on the north side parking lot and saw the Crown Victoria about ten parking spots away on the opposite row. She stepped out of her car and walked briskly toward the elevator; it was 6:27. While waiting for the elevator, she casually looked back and saw that no one was coming. Officer Mitchell, she reckoned, would wait for her to return from the hair salon. Just what she had wanted.

  Her plan was fast and furious. They had her fingerprints already, so there might not be a second chance. Making sure she wasn’t being followed, she went and got her stuff from the locker she had rented earlier; made it to the bank just before closing time and bought four cashier’s checks of $2,500 each. She wouldn’t walk around with the $11,000 missing from her parent’s basement; instead, she kept just under a thousand dollars cash. Next, she bought a prepaid cell phone and called Michael.

  “Hello, this is Michael,” he answered guardedly.

  “Michael, it’s me, Anna.”

  “Hey, beautiful! What phone is this? How did it go at the police station?”

  Anna looked from side to side, then behind her. Her heart was racing. “Not that great. They got my fingerprints. Now, I’m being tailed by Wozniak’s bloodhound, Officer Mitchell. This phone is a prepaid.”

  “Oh, that sounds bad. What can I do?”

  “I don’t have a lot of time. If you come pick me up at the south side of Green Valley Mall in twenty minutes, I’ll tell you everything about it on a long, long drive…to Canada.”

  “Canada? What are you…never mind, you can tell me later. I’ll be there. I’m leaving right now.” His voice was amped up; he sounded alarmed but also thrilled. Maybe he’d been waiting his whole life for a moment like this.

  Anna walked into a Macy’s, and within the next fifteen minutes, she bought a carry-on suitcase and enough clothes for the next five days. She felt like a crazy person stuffing her suitcase with clothes her size—no time to try anything on. She paid cash and nearly ran out of there, always looking around, expecting to see Officer Mitchell at every turn. “Hey, doll, where are you going in such a hurry?” He looked like someone who might say something like that. “It’s a hell of a thing, Wozniak, I had to tackle her and everything.”

  Michael showed up right on time at the south side entrance. Nobody seemed to be following her, but just to be sure she went into a restaurant from inside the mall and left through the outside door facing the parking garage. She got in the car, kissed Michael, and they were off. She looked back repeatedly—no tail.

  In the next two hours, Anna gave Michael every detail about her interview with Wozniak. She explained her intentions to him the only way she could, “I have to let the dogs chase me so that they will leave Mom alone. She deserves a new chance. She still has a life to live, even if she doesn’t know it yet.”

  “You have a life to live too,” said Michael.

  “And I plan to live it.”

  “Will we see each other again somehow?”

  Anna nuzzled his neck and whispered in his ear, “Somehow, yes. Somewhere. Sometime, soon. I promise you.”

  “Then I know we will. I trust you blindly. Don’t ask why—I just do.”

  They were halfway to the crossing at Niagara Falls when Anna’s phone started to ring. The name on screen—Detective Andrew Wozniak. She let it go to voice mail three, four, five times; she didn’t dare listening to the—she imagined—increasingly threatening messages. By now he would know that she abandoned her car at the mall and became a fugitive, in a mad dash somewhere. Canada, of course he would figure that out.

  “Should we listen to the voice mails?” she asked Michael nervously.

  “I think we should. It could give us an idea of what he’s thinking, what he’ll try to do.”

  “You’re right. Let’s start playing them.”

  The first message was a Wozniak classic—polished, polite, deceivingly charming. The second message urged her to call him, but it didn’t say why. The third message started with a breathing sound, then went on, “Anna, I know you got scared. Something scared you, but I don’t know what. I certainly didn’t mean to scare you. Was it the fingerprinting? That is just standard procedure; it means nothing. We can’t pick and choose whose fingerprints we take, and you were at the house, same as the other guests. That’s all there is to it. Please call me; don’t do anything rash.”

  The fourth message began with four seconds of heavy breathing, then only, “Anna, please call me. I’ll be expecting your call.”

  Finally, on the fifth message, the gloves came off, “Anna, for God’s sake, what are you doing? Where are you? If we have to chase you, it won’t be pretty. You’re making a big mistake. If you don’t call me back immediately, I’ll have to get a warrant for your arrest. I swear, I can get it in under one hour, and then cops will be looking for you everywhere, and at the border crossings too. Don’t try that, Anna. Don’t put me to the test. You will be very sorry you did. Ten minutes, Anna, you have ten minutes to call me.”

  “What was the time of that last call?” asked Michael.

  Anna felt panic creeping in under her skin. “Michael, are you sure you want to do this? If they catch you with me…”

  “I’m in this with you now. We’ve come too far to give up. When did he last call you?”

  “It says nine fifty-eight.”

  “It’s eight after ten. If he’s not bluffing, you have to call him right now, or he’ll go get a warrant for your arrest. It will be another fifty minutes to an hour before we get to the border crossing. If there’s a warrant for y
ou in the system when we get there, it’s all over.”

  Anna had Wozniak’s contact on screen. “Okay, I’ll call him.”

  “You need to stall, keep him from pursuing the warrant. What will you say to him?”

  “No time to explain. I’m calling him now.” Her heart felt like it might explode; she had trouble breathing.

  Calm down, Anna. Breathe, Anna. She placed the call. Wozniak picked up at the first ring and spoke with a tone not unlike that of a father whose fifteen-year-old daughter just came back through the window at 3:00 a.m. “Anna, where the hell are you? I was just heading out to get that arrest warrant. What’s got into you?”

  “I’m so sorry, Detective. You’re right. I panicked. I saw a Crown Victoria following me everywhere, and I decided to ditch my car at the mall.”

  “I see. And where are you now?” He lowered his voice considerably, but he was not quite his usual suave self.

  “Frank picked me up. I’m at my townhouse. I went to bed early, and my phone was in silent mode. I’m so sorry I worried you like that.”

  “All right…Anna, I’m going to have Mitchell drive by your place. He should be there in ten minutes. Just open the door for a second and say hello to him, okay? That’s all. Good night.”

  Now, she had lied to the police; there was no turning back. This would be the beginning of the rest of her life, whether as a prisoner or as an exile in parts unknown.

  She warned Michael, “In ten minutes, Wozniak is going to find out that I just lied to him. He’ll try to get that arrest warrant immediately. I just hope time is on our side this one time.”

  “Is it ever?” Michael winked at her. “Well, I better step on it,” said Michael, and he did. He’d never been more handsome than tonight. There was something wild and unleashed about him—he looked like a wolf. Made her wonder, though, should she be wary of this instinct? No, all those stupid notions be damned! She felt more alive than ever.

  Twelve minutes later her phone was ringing non-stop. The sound of new voice mails became deafening. She turned off the damned thing. If they didn’t hit any slow traffic, they would make it to the border crossing around 10:45. The race against Wozniak was on. Whatever happened, happened. She had put in a great fight.

  They were at the border crossing at 10:43. “Oh God, I didn’t ask you to bring your passport,” she fretted.

  “I got it, relax. You did say Canada.” He smiled and held her hand, squeezing it gently.

  There were three cars in front of them. The first one went through almost immediately. Next, a group of college age girls were having a party inside their fancy SUV up to the instant in which they came up to the inspection point. They breezed through like they were Canadian diplomats returning from a hard day’s work negotiating a brand-new NAFTA agreement with their American allies. It was 10:47.

  One more car to go. It was a couple, probably about their same ages. Several minutes passed. The border security officer inspected their passports carefully, looking at their faces, then their passport pictures and back again. They looked stiff. Anna imagined their tensed-up faces. Perhaps, they had a forbidden article in the glove compartment. They probably looked guilty. Looking guilty was half the problem.

  Anna surprised Michael with a deep, passionate kiss. Halfway through he had figured out what she was doing. He whispered to her ear, “Good thinking,” and proceeded to hungrily kiss her neck, playing his part perfectly, as she pretended to be ashamed that the young border security officer was looking right at them. “It’s our turn, Michael. Here goes nothing!”

  “Young lady, see you on the other side,” Michael said like a goddamned rock star.

  They drove up to the inspection point. “Hello, there. Having some fun tonight eh?” asked the cheery young officer.

  “It’s a fine night, and it’s getting better,” said Michael, brimming with panache.

  “It’s mighty fine, indeed. All right, then. Let’s see your passports. Thank you, Michael, Ms. Goddard. Please open the trunk.” He went behind the car, took a quick look, and closed the trunk, then came back around with their passports in one hand. Any moment now, he could hand them back and wave them through.

  An older officer beckoned from within the booth. “Excuse me for a moment,” said the young officer and went inside the booth. The older officer showed him something on a computer screen. The younger officer looked hard at the screen, scrunching his face like he didn’t like what he was seeing.

  “Don’t show any concern,” said Anna. “Stay loose. Look at me, not them.”

  The young officer came back. “My apologies. My supervisor just indicated to me that an incident has been reported. A semi-truck rolled over on Queen Elizabeth Way. It’s a mess. If you were heading to Toronto, you might want to consider staying for a night here in Niagara Falls.”

  “Oh, we were planning to do that anyway. It’s terrible about the accident, though. Hope nobody was seriously injured.”

  “Yeah, you and me both, bud. Michael, Anna,” he said as he handed back their passports, “enjoy your stay in Canada.”

  They were through. Whether they had outmaneuvered Wozniak, or the sly detective had bluffed about the arrest warrant, she would never know.

  Anna spent one last night with Michael, a night she would remember for quite some time. In the morning, he drove her to the Toronto International Airport, not knowing where she would be going. The real question was, where would she go first? Even she didn’t know that. Only one thing she knew for sure—she could never return home.

  While on route to the airport, Anna called her mother from the prepaid cell phone and gave her clear instructions. “Mom, please listen carefully and do as I say. Cancel your meeting with Detective Wozniak immediately. Don’t talk to him at all. If he tries to force you to talk, get a lawyer and stall for a few days. That’s all I need.”

  Anna could hear her mother trying to stifle her crying. She felt Michael’s hand taking hers in, holding it—somehow, he’d known she needed it right then. “Tell Frank and Aunt Marlene to do the same, Mom, even if you’re not yet on speaking terms. I’ll call Diane from the airport. Do not talk on the phone among yourselves about any of what happened. Not once, not ever. Bury it all down.”

  A single tear ran down her cheek. “Though I’m an exile now, I’ll reach out to you. I’ll always be near, one way or another. You should know that I’m living my life as I choose, and that is what happiness means to me. Be happy for me, as I’ll be happy for you. Become Lydia Wilde again, don’t look back, only forward, and live freely. Bye Mom. I love you.”

  Under the first colors of a new sunrise, Anna and Michael hugged and kissed goodbye. The sound of airplanes taking off served as ambiance music for their tender scene. Her eyes welled up with tears, but she held them at bay until she turned around. As she walked through the glass doors leading to her future, they soaked her face.

  CHAPTER XXI

  Detective Andrew Wozniak stared at the padded envelope left on his desk for a whole minute. The return address—Anna Goddard, Somewhere in the World. The package had been postmarked in Toronto, but he knew damn well that she would by now be thousands of miles away. It had been three days since her escape.

  He finally opened it. Inside there was a letter envelope and—a mint tin case? His curiosity made him open the tin case first. As soon as he looked inside, he knew what he was looking at. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips, then put it back, and picked up the letter envelope. He opened it and sat down at his old metal desk to read the letter.

  Dear Detective Wozniak,

  By now, you must have figured out that I killed my father, Victor Goddard. This letter should serve as my formal confession. I hereby declare, in no uncertain terms, that I killed my father.

  I apologize for lying in my interview with you and Officer Mitchell. I want you to know that I have great appreciation for the work you do and never intended to disrespect you in any way. I simply had no other choice, other than going to prison, w
hich wasn’t to my liking. I’m sure you understand.

  Without a doubt, you must have already matched my fingerprints to the ones found on my father’s neck, the ones I left when I knelt beside him and, to my horror, found no pulse. I now want to tell you the entire true story of how it happened.

  My mom was going to leave my father. She was coming home with me in the morning, and I was helping her pack her suitcase, the one you found. When she fell asleep, I went to the basement to talk to Dad. There were some things I wanted to ask him. I needed to know there was a part of him that was decent, that regretted hurting Mom, and all of us. I didn’t find a regretful man in there; I found a vengeful, hateful man; a man that would hurt Mom. He asked, “What is that whore of your mother doing up there?” He walked past me, saying, “The only way she’ll leave me is in a body bag.” He meant it. I knew he meant it. So, I grabbed the baseball bat from the wall and called his name. He turned to me, menacingly, and that’s when I took a wild swing at him. I only intended to knock him out and get Mom out of there, but as fate would have it, he was dead before he hit the ground.

  I am ready to give you the evidence you need to have closure on the case. I knew that finding the murder weapon would be your main objective, so I burnt it far away from the house. Remember that smell of smoke that you sensed that night? You asked me if I had been near a fire. By God, I thought you had me. You will find the buried charred remains of that baseball bat about two miles away from the house, in the woods near an old electrical substation and a torn-down creepy house. But more importantly, open the tin can I have sent you. I saved you a piece of the murder weapon. Yes, that’s a piece of my father’s baseball bat. Yes, that’s his blood. And, yes, that’s my fingerprint.

  What I did, I did it to protect my mother. Now, you know everything. I know I can never return home. Think of that as my punishment for slaying the beast.

  Sincerely yours,

  Anna Goddard

  Wozniak carefully put the letter back in its envelope. A forlorn little smile crept up on his face. It was late. Nobody but him was there. Slackers, all of them. He opened his bottom drawer, took out a metal flask and a glass, and poured himself some whiskey.