by J. R. Adler
“Eat up, sweetie,” she said, just above a whisper.
Her father didn’t wait for Nicole to sit down. He didn’t say a prayer. He dove into the goulash, shoving a forkful into his mouth, the grease from the chunks of ground beef dripping down his chin.
“I said I wanted steak tonight. What is this shit?” He spat as he spoke.
“We don’t have money for steak,” Nicole said meekly.
Kimberley took a couple of small bites, chewing slowly and quietly, wishing she was invisible. She didn’t want to sit down for dinner, but her mother insisted as a way to seem like a normal family. But all it did was give Kimberley a front-row seat to her father’s dark side.
“Well, then, stop spending money on stupid shit like books for her,” he said, pointing at his daughter. “Or those goddamn CDs.”
“Those were Kimberley’s birthday gifts.”
“What the fuck does she need a birthday gift for? I’m the one that brought her into this world. I should get a gift on her goddamn birthday.”
Her father took a long swig of his beer, swishing it around in his mouth, and slammed the empty bottle on the table.
Nicole rose immediately to get him another, disappearing into the kitchen.
“You think you’re special?” he said, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes at Kimberley.
She shook her head.
“Good. Because you’re fucking not. That’s what’s wrong with your generation. Every last one of you thinks you’re so goddamn special. You’re an ant. A fucking nothing.” He clenched his jaw.
Nicole set the open beer in front of him and gave a small smile to Kimberley.
“Ain’t that right, Nicole?”
“What?” Her mother looked over at him.
“She’s not fucking special.” He pointed at Kimberley. “Tell your daughter, she’s nothing.”
Nicole pressed her lips firmly together.
“Tell her.” He slammed his fist against the table, making the silverware bounce.
Nicole and Kimberley flinched.
“Tell her.” He raised his hand, smacking her mother in the back of the head.
Nicole squealed. She looked at Kimberley, her eyes filled with tears. “You’re nothing,” she said, her lip trembling.
Kimberley opened her eyes and set her glass of wine down. Her father was gone, just a dark memory that haunted her from time to time.
“She is a good little eater. I fed her half my banana when she got home from daycare. I tried giving her just a small piece and she just kept reaching out her hands, saying, ‘More,’” David said with a chuckle.
Kimberley ran her hand over her daughter’s soft head. “You’re going to be such a big, strong girl.”
“How was it today at the station?” Nicole picked up her fork, spiking three peas. She slowly brought them to her mouth and chewed.
“Good. Sheriff Walker, Sam that is, gave me the rundown of the department, surrounding areas and Dead Woman Crossing.”
“Did you meet Barb?” Nicole’s eyes lit up. It was clear Barb had the same effect on everyone she met.
“Yes. She seemed great. Got me a succulent for my office.”
“They don’t make women like Barb anymore,” David commented. He took a swig of his beer.
He was right. She had never met a woman like Barb before.
“Meet anyone else on the force?” David added.
“Just Deputy Burns. The rest of the day-shift workers were out patrolling or out on suspension.” Kimberley raised an eyebrow, looking up at David and then glancing at Nicole, gauging if they had heard anything about the woman abuser on the force.
“So, you’ve heard about Deputy Lodge?” David tilted his head.
“Yeah, Sam filled me in.”
“It’s wild. You think you know your neighbors. But what goes on behind their doors… you just never know,” David said, shaking his head.
“Yeah, it’s awful,” Nicole said just above a whisper.
“Did he tell you what happened?” David shoveled a hunk of meatloaf into his mouth.
Kimberley shook her head.
He took a swig of beer, rinsing out his mouth and cleared his throat.
“Apparently, Lodge got wasted at The Trophy Room and came home to his wife, Sarah. She had discovered he was having an affair, and when she confronted him, he beat her up pretty bad. He claimed he was drunk, and it had never happened before, but who knows?” David shrugged his shoulders.
“I actually stopped over at The Trophy Room on my way home. Quite the interesting place.”
Nicole nodded while taking a sip of her wine. David grabbed a roll from the basket and tore it in half.
“The Trophy Room is really a man’s place. No sense in you going there,” David said, stuffing a piece of bread in his mouth. “Besides, Lodge hangs out there and you just heard what kind of man he is.”
“I’m not afraid of Lodge. Plus, when his suspension is up, he’ll be working under me.”
David raised his brow. “I’m just saying, it’s more of a man’s place. There’s a nice coffee shop over on the strip and a beauty parlor next door. That’s where the women around here hang out.”
Kimberley cocked her head. “I go where I like, David.”
“Figured you’d say that. No stopping the East Coast from doing what they want here in Podunk, Oklahoma,” David replied, not raising his eyes from his plate.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I am woman, hear me roar. You got a point to prove?”
“Not trying to prove any points. I’m the chief deputy of this county. No place is off limits.”
“Just cause you’re a cop, don’t mean ya need to go stickin’ your nose everywhere. It’s like that saying—just cause ya can, doesn’t mean ya should.”
Kimberley was fuming. Who the fuck was this sexist, backward-ass man to tell her how to live and how to do her job? She was about to unload on him with both barrels and chew his ear off until he inevitably lumbered his ass back to bed. But no. That’s exactly what he wanted. He wanted to see the temperamental woman. The one who couldn’t keep her emotions in check. To make her look hysterical in front of her mother and upset her daughter. Kimberley wasn’t about to give him what he wanted.
“Ya know, maybe you’re right, David. I hadn’t thought about it like that. The more time I spend poking my nose into everything, the less time I have to do productive things. Maybe I can start patching up all the uniforms at the station and making the other deputies apple pies from time to time. And hell if I get off real early, I could head straight home, with a cold six-pack of Bud Light ready for you and I can get right down to the most important task of the day, making you dinner and then cleaning up after you. I guess this town won’t be so bad after all.”
“No sense in getting your panties in a bunch. I’m just warning ya. The Trophy Room ain’t the place for women.” David stabbed his fork into the meatloaf.
“The Trophy Room is child’s play to what I’ve seen in the city.” Kimberley narrowed her eyes and stuck a forkful of meatloaf in her mouth. She chewed on the meat while she chewed on the memories of her past… One stuck out most.
Kimberley remembered walking into the dark NYC studio apartment alone as her partner, Detective Hunter, was at a doctor’s appointment. Several officers had warned her that she’d never be able to unsee what she was about to behold, but that never swayed her. She owed it to the victim. The first thing that hit her was the smell: a mix of rotting eggs and iron. She had smelled dead bodies before, many times in fact, but this was different. It had its own brand to it, something else that had crept into the regular smell of rot and death. It hung thick and heavy in the air. She covered her mouth with her hand, but it was already inside of her lungs, wrapping in a coil around her bronchioles. The apartment was abandoned, with one room and then a bathroom off to the side. A forensics team was collecting samples from the spoiled food scattered on the counter and the dirty dishes stacked a co
uple feet high in the sink, hoping to pick up any traces of DNA. Thick, large cockroaches ambled over the counters. They didn’t scatter like most roaches do when people are around. They had staked their claim, as this was now their home. She closed her eyes before heading toward the bathroom, prepping herself for what she was about to find. She turned the corner slowly, pushing open the cracked wooden door. Her eyes stared at the linoleum floor that had a pinkish color to it. Areas where it was peeled up were a deep red. It was obvious the blood was both old and new. She looked at the sink, an old pedestal full of red water. More blood. It was clogged as the lift rod for the drain wasn’t pulled up. Her eyes went to the mirror. Written in blood across it read, “Who’s the King now?” It was a message for Detective Kimberley King. Her fist clenched so tightly that her fingernails drew blood on her left palm. She wiped the palm of her hand against her pants. Her eyes went to the bathtub. A naked woman lay inside of it. Her body covered in hundreds of cigarette burns, thousands of small cuts, massive deep, almost black bruises. Clumps of curly red hair pulled out revealed small barren patches of tiny red dots where the scalp had bled. Her nose was crooked with the bone sticking out, several teeth were missing, and her other eye had been burned in, probably with a cigarette as well. There was so much damage her body looked like one massive wound. The killer had taken his time with her. It was a part of his MO. He liked control, liked feeling as though he were a god. They didn’t know much about him, but they knew that. A long incision, nearly a foot long, ran across her lower abdomen.
She heard footsteps behind her. Two uniformed officers stood in the doorway.
“What is it?”
Kimberley stepped out of the way, so they could see the horror she had seen.
Kimberley blinked several times, washing the memory away. She had lost her appetite. She set her fork down and poured herself a full glass of wine, taking a large gulp of it, before setting it back down.
David chewed on his food and on his next words for a moment. “That’s cuz y’all ain’t got God up there.”
Kimberley couldn’t argue with that.
Nicole quietly pushed her food around her plate, taking intermittent sips of wine and giving strained glances to both David and Kimberley.
“Maybe we should change the subject,” Nicole said meekly, refilling her glass again.
Kimberley noticed her mother hadn’t eaten much, but she had drunk half the bottle of wine. Her red eyes now had a sheen to them, as if there were little tiny windows in front of each one. Kimberley drained the rest of her glass, ready to test her mother’s method.
“God isn’t a subject, Nicole.” David pressed his lips firmly together.
“Correct, he is not. He is just one character in one great work of fiction. Hardly important enough to deserve a whole subject,” Kimberley said pointedly.
David thinking she was dead serious would rile him up even more than if it were a joke. He dropped his fork, the silverware clanging loudly against the porcelain plate.
“I can’t stop you from thinking whatever devilish nonsense you want to think, but while you’re living here, in my house, I don’t want to hear that kind of talk again.” His skin was flushed red, and not from his work outside or the beer.
“Duly noted, massa. After all, the Bible does say a woman is only worth half as much as a man, so you must be twice as right as me. It won’t happen again.” Kimberley loved this sort of banter.
In the NYPD, it was how you made light of all the darkness that tried to seep into your life every day. Was it a defense mechanism, designed to mask the real issues? Of course, but it was the best weapon at her disposal for now, so why not go with it?
David let out a grunt, an acknowledgment of her agreement.
“Perhaps you and Jessica could come to church with us one of these Sundays?” David said airily.
Mercifully, Kimberley didn’t have to answer this because at that moment, Jessica let out a piercing scream. Kimberley immediately tried to soothe her.
“What’s wrong, baby girl?” she asked, rubbing her back.
Jessica banged her hands on the tray, pushing the bowl off of it. It hit the floor with a thud. Kimberley bent down and picked it up, noticing it was empty.
“Are you still hungry?” she said as she sat back up.
“Here give it to me.” Nicole reached out her hand, taking the bowl from Kimberley and tossing a spoonful of peas into it. Jessica screamed louder, tears streaming down her face.
Nicole placed the bowl of peas in front of her. “Jessica, baby. Look, more peas,” she said.
Jessica looked down, her cries began to taper, until she was just sniffling and breathing heavily. As soon as her handful of peas landed in her mouth, she was smiling again.
Kimberley took a deep breath.
“Crisis averted,” Nicole said with a laugh.
“For being so little, she’s quite loud.” David chuckled.
“That scream of hers has nearly given me a heart attack at least a dozen times,” Kimberley said, taking a drink of wine.
David picked up his fork and returned to eating his food, while washing every few bites down with a swig of beer. When it was empty, without asking, Nicole immediately got up and retrieved him another. Her mother had always taken care of everyone in her life, even the men who treated her poorly. Kimberley thought of her mother as strong, but this part of her, she found to be weak and subservient.
“After meeting Sheriff Walker, you think you’ll like working with him?” David asked.
“Yeah. He seems nice. Very professional.”
David nodded his approval. “He is a good man. It’d do ya well to pay attention to him. I know you’re from the big city and all, but like I said before, you could probably learn a thing or two from him.”
He might be trying to be condescending or dismissive of her skills, but Kimberley wasn’t sure. Plus, he was right, you could always learn something from others. That was one of Kimberley’s core drivers to keeping her sharp and progressing in life. Always keep learning.
“No, you’re right. I’m sure I can, and I’m sure I will.”
Jessica let out a massive yawn, her mouth widening almost large enough to swallow the whole bowl before her. She had eaten her weight in peas. Kimberley leaped from her seat, seeing an escape route.
“I’m gonna go put her to bed. I’ll be back out to help you clean up in a bit, Mom.”
“Nonsense. I can handle it myself. Go take care of your daughter.” Nicole’s tone was dismissive but loving.
“Thanks, Mom. Come on, you little stinker. Time for bath and bed.” Kimberley hoisted Jessica out of the highchair and walked into the kitchen to the sink to wash her pea-covered hands. She then made her way to the bedroom.
“Good night, you two,” she called out as she passed by the table again.
“Good night, sweetie,” was her mother’s reply.
A slight raising of his bottle of Bud Light and a “Night” was David’s.
Back in the bedroom after Jessica’s bath, Kimberley shuffled her feet across the deep stalks of the shag carpeting over to the crib. She put Jessica into her pajamas. A bit of tussling and horseplay ensued, trying to calm her down fully before bed, but eventually she won out and was able to rest her tired girl into the crib, blanket and elephant following shortly after.
Kimberley looked down at her daughter, admiring how perfect she was in her innocence and love of life, if only that was something she could capture again. She leaned down to kiss her forehead, hoping maybe a piece of that perfection would transfer to her lips and into her, if only for a moment. She leaned her belly into the bar of the crib…
CRACK! The smashing of glass against glass shot through the window and into the bedroom, shaking Kimberley through her core and shot her straight back up. She made her way to the window, her ears on full alert. She heard grass rustling and twigs snapping beneath the weight of something moving across them and then fading off into the distance, silence filling back
into its rightful place, followed by crickets and the slight whistle of a light wind across the plains. The noise sounded like it started not far from the cottage. Kimberley hurried back out to the dinner table. David was still sitting there sipping on another beer while Nicole was cleaning everything up, including her nearly full plate of food.
“Did you two hear that?” she asked, trying to keep her anxiety in check to maintain the cool NYPD detective façade. Normally she was never rattled, but this was unfamiliar territory and she didn’t care for unpleasant surprises so close in proximity to Jessica.
“Hear what?” David asked.
“Like glass breaking and some rustling of grass and wood snapping, like there’s someone outside.” Kimberley stood still, trying to hear it again, but her mother was clanking dishes and running water in the kitchen.
David tipped back his beer and shrugged his shoulders. “Didn’t hear anything.”
“Oh, honey. It’s probably just some raccoons or coyotes. We get a lot of them on the farm,” Nicole said, scraping her plate of food into the garbage.
“Nicole’s right. We got lots of animals out here in the country. They make a ton of noise at night.”
Kimberley’s shoulders stayed tense, but she accepted her mother and David’s answer.
Nicole walked into the dining room with a tied-up bag full of garbage.
“Oh, Mom. Let me get that,” Kimberley said, immediately sticking her hand out to take it. She had accepted their explanation for the noise outside, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t about to check it out. Things go bump in the night, but so do detectives.
Her mother looked as though she was about to say no, but when she saw the strained look in Kimberley’s eyes, she obliged, saying thank you.
Kimberley took the bag of garbage and headed out of the dining room, into the living room toward the front door.
“The garbage cans are behind the farmhouse,” Nicole said.
She slipped on a pair of tennis shoes and opened the front door, closing it behind her. The outside was quiet, save for crickets that sounded like they were all around her. The air was dry and dusty, pulling the moisture out of her lungs with each breath she took. Kimberley followed the stone path nearly up to the farmhouse, but cut away from it, heading toward the back of the home. A couple of spotlights provided areas of light, but not enough to look out behind the cottage nor any of the buildings on the property. Howls echoed in the distance. Kimberley carefully trudged to the back of the farmhouse and found four large black garbage cans. She opened the first one and tossed the bag inside. Taking a couple of steps away from the house, she stood quietly, listening. Crickets. A rustling sound all around her, the wheatgrass swaying in the soft night wind. Whatever the sound she heard earlier was gone, along with the thing that caused it.