The Necklace

by Matt Witten

  But now Susan replayed that moment when she saw Danny’s face gazing intently up at Amy as he held her above him. Oh my God, she thought, what if I didn’t imagine it?

  She looked toward Danny’s house. The lights were on in the living room and a couple of back rooms that were probably bedrooms. All at once, the living room had a burst of movement. Emily raced in, wearing pink pajamas, with Danny right behind, chasing her around the sofa. Her long brown hair flew behind her and it looked like she was laughing.

  No question, Danny could be Fun Dad sometimes.

  Susan wanted to see more, so she snuck up the dark driveway, rolling her suitcase on the grass alongside so it wouldn’t make noise.

  Inside the house, Danny held Emily by her legs and whirled her around in circles. From this distance, Susan could see she was wearing the necklace.

  Danny put her down on the rug and tickled her feet. Susan could tell the girl was giggling. She was saying something Susan couldn’t hear. He kept tickling her.

  And then Emily’s face changed.

  It looked like she was still sort of laughing, but now she was upset—panicky, even—trying to pull her feet away from her father.

  But Danny kept on tickling. Emily yelled, loud enough that Susan could hear, “Stop! Daddy, stop!”

  Suddenly Susan remembered Danny and Amy wrestling on the living room floor. Sometimes she thought he played a little too rough.

  Had he been even rougher than she realized?

  Emily yelled “Stop!” even louder and Susan watched, more and more horrified. Then she couldn’t see Emily anymore, because the sofa blocked her view. What is Danny doing to her? She moved forward for a better look.

  But as she did, she bumped into the handle of her suitcase. It fell over and landed on the driveway with a thump. The noise brought a large gray dog, a German shepherd mix, running into the living room. He stood at the window and barked loudly. Danny let go of Emily and stepped to the window too.

  Susan grabbed her suitcase and got the hell out of there as fast as she could.

  She headed back to Main Street. The wind picked up and she shivered.

  Maybe it’s true. Maybe he really …

  And if he hurt Amy …

  Then he’ll hurt Emily.

  Unless I stop him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 30, PRESENT DAY

  AT SEVEN O’CLOCK the next morning, Susan paced the sidewalk outside the Village Apothecary on Main waiting for it to open. She’d had a long night, split between a motel lobby before they kicked her out and then the all-night diner again. She got maybe two hours of sleep, all while sitting up. Now she was beyond eager to get started on her plan.

  The first thing she needed to do was get hold of a disposable camera at the drugstore. She was hoping to trade her engagement ring for one—it had to be worth at least forty or fifty dollars, and the fact it came from Danny was making her sick now anyway. If she couldn’t unload the ring, maybe she could trade her watch. She’d splurged and spent seventy dollars on it a couple years ago.

  The lights came on inside the store and a woman walked in from the back room. She was in her forties with stylish auburn hair and a purposeful stride. Susan thought she was probably the store owner, which meant she’d be able to do a trade if she wanted. Good.

  Susan smoothed her hair. She’d washed it in the bathroom sink at the diner, using liquid soap. The night counterman had still been on duty, and he gave her a fresh towel to dry herself off. She’d put on a little lipstick too.

  The woman unlocked the front door and held it open. “Good morning,” she said with a businesslike smile. “Awfully cold out there.”

  “Yes, it is.” Susan walked in with her suitcase. She didn’t have time to waste. “I’m looking for an inexpensive camera.”

  The woman gave an apologetic frown. “I’m afraid we don’t sell cameras anymore.”

  Susan stopped and looked at her in surprise. Stone’s Pharmacy back in Luzerne still carried cheap cameras; her mom had wanted one for the Crow Bar party. “Not even one of those disposable cameras?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. With cell phones, who needs them?”

  What about people with flip phones? she wanted to say. Her face fell.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “No thanks,” Susan said, and left the store, her heart beating frantically. Shit, Emily will be getting to school in less than an hour. Susan wasn’t sure of the exact time. What the hell do I do now? I need a camera!

  Then she remembered the elementary school was right across the street from the high school. And the high school would be full of kids with cell phones. Cell phones with cameras.

  She walked the ten blocks there as fast as she could while dragging her suitcase. She asked the crossing guard, an elderly man with cheeks reddened by the cold, “What time does school start this morning?”

  “High school is seven forty, elementary school is eight o’clock.”

  It was seven twenty now. She hurried to the high school, a sprawling brick building. She hid her suitcase behind a tree so she wouldn’t be conspicuous and waited for the kids to come. “I can do this,” she whispered out loud, trying to convince herself.

  Soon throngs of teenagers started arriving by car, bus, and on foot. She figured her best shot was to catch a kid walking by himself, but most of them were in groups of two, three, or four. Or they were getting dropped off right in front of the school, where a security guard stood. Susan didn’t want to risk getting kicked off school property.

  Finally, a good prospect came along: a nerdy-looking boy with a shiny, light green parka. She stepped up to him and said, “Excuse me.”

  He looked at her, a little startled at being accosted.

  She continued, “How would you like to earn a quick twenty dollars?” She would have said fifty, but she figured with a small number the kid wouldn’t get too pissed off when she eventually had to admit she’d been lying about giving him money.

  But the kid just looked at her and started walking faster. Did he think she was a loony? Geez.

  The next kid she went up to, a tall, pretty Asian girl, gave her the brush-off too, and so did a third kid, an overweight boy carrying a guitar case. It was already seven thirty-five.

  She looked up the sidewalk and saw a girl who looked about sixteen, with a half-shaved head and multiple tattoos. She walked heavily in big wafflestomper boots and had a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude, softened only slightly by her dreamcatcher necklace. She was busy on her phone, which made rapid high-pitched noises; probably she was playing some kind of game. Susan decided it would be a waste of time to even bother with her.

  She looked across the street for more prospects and saw three teenage boys loping toward her—no, they were heading for the girl. They got in her way, forcing her to stop. They were all big guys with short hair—football players, Susan figured. The guy in the middle with a jutting chin and a swagger acted like their leader, like he was the star quarterback.

  He said to the girl, in an aggressive, bullying voice, “Hey, Kyra, whatcha doing tonight?”

  Susan watched as the girl—Kyra—looked up at his jeering face.

  “I’d love to suck your dick,” she said. “It’s so teeny weeny, it makes me laugh.”

  Then she shoved right past him.

  His two friends immediately began howling and making fun of him, jabbing him in the shoulder. “Oh, you got hosed!” one of them said.

  Kyra ignored them and kept walking, going back to her game. On an impulse, Susan stepped in her way. “Excuse me.”

  Kyra looked up and frowned at her, clearly wondering what the hell this lady wanted.

  Susan said, “How would you like to earn a quick twenty dollars?”

  Kyra lifted her eyebrows. “Doing what?”

  “All you have to do is take a picture.”

  The girl’s eyes flickered curiously, and Susan knew she had her.

  A coupl
e minutes later, they were on the other side of the street behind an SUV, watching cars and buses pull up to the elementary school. Susan’s suitcase was next to a nearby fire hydrant, because she didn’t like having it out of sight for too long.

  Susan had told Kyra their mission in only the broadest outline, and now Kyra wanted details. “How come you want pictures of this necklace?”

  Susan didn’t want to say anything that might give this girl a reason to reconsider, so she said, “I’ll explain later.” Kids were pouring out of the cars and buses, and Susan’s eyes darted around, searching for Emily. “I don’t know if she’s taking a bus or getting a ride.”

  Kyra said, “You sure you’re not some crazy fucking stalker?”

  “Do I look like a crazy stalker?”

  Kyra looked down at Susan’s old suitcase. “Kind of.”

  The last few kids came out of the bus on the far left. One of them had long brown hair—Emily.

  “There she is,” Susan said. “She’s got the necklace. Let’s go!”

  She hurried toward Emily. But then she turned and saw Kyra wasn’t following her. The armed security guard who’d been here yesterday was standing on the school’s front steps surveying everybody, and Kyra was eyeing him warily.

  “Come on, hurry!” Susan called.

  “Fuck that,” Kyra said. “I can’t get busted again.”

  Susan walked quickly back to her. “Please,” she said. But the girl folded her arms stubbornly.

  So she played the one card she had. “This girl may be in danger.”

  “Of what?” Kyra said dubiously.

  “Getting raped and killed.”

  Kyra stared at Susan, then held out her phone. “Fine, you do it.”

  “I don’t know how! I have a flip phone!”

  Emily was lining up with the other kids at the front door, about to go inside. Ten more seconds and it would be too late. Susan grabbed Kyra by the elbow. “Come on. Help me!”

  The line of kids was entering the school now. Finally, Kyra let Susan pull her toward there. “Hurry!” Susan said.

  Kyra sped up, and they ran toward Emily just as she was about to go through the door. Her foot was already on the top step.

  “Emily!” Susan called.

  The girl turned. Her coat was open so the necklace hung down onto her sweater, totally visible. Perfect. Now don’t button up your coat.

  “You forgot your lunch,” Susan said. She held out a small brown bag she’d found in a garbage can outside the high school. She’d half-filled the bag with leaves and stones so it would look like it had a lunch inside. If the guard opened that bag, she would be in trouble.

  Standing next to her, Kyra held up her phone and took pictures of Emily’s necklace. Susan prayed Kyra was doing a good job.

  Emily looked back and forth between the two of them. “I have my lunch. Who are you?”

  The guard came over from the other side of the steps. Susan could feel Kyra stiffening beside her. She gave an apologetic smile. “Oh, sorry. Wrong girl.”

  The guard put his hand protectively on Emily’s shoulder and opened his mouth to say something. Susan preempted him. “Have a great day!” she said, and she and Kyra walked away.

  Luckily the guard didn’t call after them.

  Once Susan and Kyra made it across the street and felt safe again, Susan said, “Let me see the pictures.”

  Kyra brought them up on her phone. “I totally don’t get this. What does this necklace have to do with getting raped and murdered?”

  Susan looked over Kyra’s shoulder at her pictures. In one of them, you could see every single bead on the front of Emily’s necklace.

  “Great, this one’s perfect. Now I need you to email me this. My address is susanlentigo@aol—”

  “Uh … the twenty dollars?”

  “In a minute. Just—”

  “Do you have twenty dollars?”

  Oh shit. “Can I give you my watch instead?”

  Kyra’s lips curled with irritation. “I don’t wear a watch.”

  “How about this ring? These are real diamonds—”

  “Lady, just tell me what the fuck you’re up to. I’m already late for homeroom.”

  It was so exasperating, having this teenage girl hold the picture hostage. Susan wished she had gotten her own damn smartphone years ago, no matter how much they cost. She told Kyra the whole story as quickly and convincingly as she could, trying to get the girl on her side. She showed Kyra the picture of Amy wearing what sure as hell looked like the exact same necklace.

  Kyra looked down at the picture, then back up at Susan with wide eyes. “You really are nuts.”

  Susan’s heart sank. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. I was afraid you’d think that and you wouldn’t help me.”

  A bell rang in the high school. They were standing on the sidewalk, which was almost empty now. Kyra rubbed her half-shaved head and said, “I don’t get it. If he’s the killer, why would he give his new daughter the same necklace? That would be so fucking dangerous.”

  During the long night, Susan had been puzzling about that herself. “Maybe he gets off on danger. He always loved rock climbing and snowmobiling really fast.” She felt Kyra’s skeptical eyes on her and threw up her hands, frustrated. “Hey, I don’t know how psychopaths think!”

  Kyra eyed her. “You were married to him. If he was like that, wouldn’t you have known?”

  Susan hesitated. A school bus pulled away from the elementary school and came her way. She felt a sudden desperate wish that the bus would veer onto the sidewalk and run her over. She had an image of herself crushed beneath the heavy wheels.

  Then the bus rolled by. She turned back to Kyra. “You’re right. I should have known.”

  She gave her whole body a shake, trying to get rid of her dark thoughts. “But it’s too late now. I need to let the cops figure it out. I don’t suppose you’re friendly with any cops around here?”

  Kyra said, “My mom didn’t know either.”

  Susan frowned, confused. “What?”

  “What her boyfriend was doing to me.”

  Susan looked at Kyra and took in what the girl was telling her. She saw the pain in the girl’s eyes, underneath her eyebrow rings. “I’m sorry. That’s really messed up.”

  Kyra nodded, then said, “I can send you the picture, but I don’t think it’ll do any good. The cops around here are all fucking assholes.”

  “I’ll show them my picture of Amy’s necklace too, so they start an investigation.”

  “Good luck with that.” As Susan shot her a look, Kyra put up her hands. “Hey, rooting for you, I’m just saying. When I went to the cops about that fucking dickhead, they acted like I was full of shit. You really think they’ll take you serious? They’d rather sit around the station eating whatever they can get for free from Starbucks and talking about how women are such a pain in the ass.”

  Susan ran her hand through her hair. She felt again her lack of a shower and wondered if she smelled, despite all her efforts in the diner bathroom. What if Kyra’s right and the cops blow me off? “Well, I gotta tell somebody. Before Saturday.”

  “The cops’ll probably tell your ex-husband, and he’ll throw the necklace away. Then you’ll have nothing.”

  Susan started to say something, but then stopped. All of a sudden it hit her. She knew who she should call.

  Agent Pappas.

  He’ll listen to me.

  Won’t he?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 30, PRESENT DAY

  KYRA EMAILED SUSAN the photo, wished her luck, and headed inside the school just before the bell rang. Susan picked up her suitcase and headed off down the street.

  This early in the morning the library would still be closed, so she couldn’t use the computer there. Instead she called directory information, even though she knew from bitter experience that would add two dollars and ninety-five cents to her cell phone bill. She got the number for the Albany Field
Office of the FBI.

  She sat on a bench on a side street, on the other side of Main from Danny’s house and real estate office. She didn’t want to risk running into him, not that he would have any idea what she was up to.

  She called the FBI and didn’t get an answer, so she called at least twice a minute until nine fifteen. Finally, a woman, presumably a receptionist, picked up. “Albany Field Office, may I help you?” She had the weary sound of someone who’d been doing this job for way too many years.

  Susan tried to sound bright and chipper, to make up for the other woman’s utter lack of energy. “Hi, my name is Susan Lentigo. I’d like to talk to Special Agent Robert Pappas.”

  “I’m afraid Mr. Pappas retired from the FBI two years ago.”

  Damn. It didn’t shock her—Pappas must be in his early-to mid-sixties by now—but it was a blow. She’d been hoping for good luck for once. “Do you have his number?”

  “I’m not permitted to give that out.”

  Susan bit her lip, frustrated. “Then I need to talk to another Special Agent, please.”

  “May I ask what this is in reference to?”

  She decided to lay it all on the line. Maybe she could shake this deadbeat woman into getting off her ass. “Agent Pappas was the lead investigator on my daughter Amy’s murder case. He arrested a man named Curt Jansen who’s gonna be executed this Saturday.”

  Susan waited a couple moments before the receptionist spoke. She was probably searching for the right thing to say. “I’m glad justice is finally being served.”

  “Well, there’s a problem. I’ve just discovered evidence he may be innocent.”

  Now she waited even longer while the receptionist didn’t speak. Finally, Susan said, “Hello?”

  “Could you hold, please, while I transfer you.”

  She waited a full five minutes this time. Cold seeped into her, sitting on the bench. She went over in her mind what she’d say to whoever she talked to next.

  At last another voice came over the phone, a man with some sort of New York City accent. “Hello, Ms. Lentigo, this is Special Agent Edward Hernandez. How can I help you?”