Skydive

by Susan O’Brien

  “Under the watchful eyes of guards? I’m probably safer there than I am here.”

  “Don’t say that, or I’ll spend another night.”

  “I’m probably safer there than I am here,” I repeated.

  “Don’t tempt me, Nicki,” he said. “Unless you mean it.”

  The problem was, I kind of did mean it. I didn’t want him to leave.

  “I do feel safer with you here,” I said, lightly pulling on his work shirt to bring him closer.

  He kissed me. “Good. I like being here with you. And the kids. A lot.”

  “We’re a good team,” I said.

  “Right, and remember what you said about deciding things together? The truth is, my logic wants you to quit this damn case. Kat made bad decisions, and I don’t think it’s your responsibility to save her.”

  “But—”

  “But my gut tells me that when your heart is in something, I should get onboard, even if it’s going to be a wild ride.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  I ran my hands along his chiseled shoulder blades, down his arms, and all the way to his fingertips, where I intertwined our hands.

  “It’s interesting,” I said. “Sometimes taking a risk feels like the only sure thing.”

  Not much about visiting Kat’s biological father intimidated me, and I took that as a sign of progress.

  After multiple visits with prisoners over several years, I had more of the routine down. The right clothes, the right supplies, the right timing, the right bladder control. (Trips to the bathroom weren’t allowed for inmates or visitors, and they were cause for ending a visit immediately.) I was still working on the right questions, especially with limited time together.

  Obviously, introductions came first.

  “Look, I’m just happy to have a visitor,” Al said. “They’re few and far between these days. You stay here long enough, and people start to fade off.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

  “You get used to it. I’m confused about why you’re here though. What does a private investigator want with me?”

  “I’m working on a case related to Corey and Katherine Burke, and I’m hoping you can give me some background information.”

  He shook his head. “Well, that’s unexpected. Are they okay?”

  “I’m trying to make sure of it, and I have their best interests at heart.”

  “Who hired you, then?”

  “I wish I could say, but it’s confidential. I can promise you that I’m not trying to get them in trouble. You have my word on that.”

  He stared at me, and I selfishly hoped his lack of visitors would make conversation irresistible.

  “Okay. What kind of information are you looking for?”

  “When was the last time you were in touch with Corey or Katherine?”

  “Corey and I lost touch a long time ago. I don’t even know if I’d recognize her now. We were young and crazy when we met. I didn’t do right by her and Kat.”

  “When was the last time you heard from her?”

  “From Corey? I couldn’t even tell you. Way back when Kat was young and Corey was tracking me down for money. I called her once when I was trying to get my act together. Kat must have been twelve or so. I don’t know. I’d been in rehab, and I wanted to apologize and set things straight. By then, Corey was into smack and off her rocker. I didn’t stay clean either, and that was that. Now, Kat, she’s a different story.”

  If instincts had antennae, mine would have gone up. “Tell me about that,” I said.

  He squinted at me.

  “You don’t know this already, huh?”

  “I’m not sure. Fill me in.”

  “You know Kat just had a birthday, right? Turned eighteen?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s the first time you’re allowed to visit someone here, unless you come with a parent or something. When Kat was little, she and her mom would visit me in jail. I was in and out, you know? They stuck by me for a while. But eventually, they faded off like everyone else. So anyway, I keep track of Kat’s birthdays. It’s all I do, but at least it’s something. I always planned to get in touch when she was older, if I could figure out how.”

  I was impatient for him to get to the point, but I didn’t want to rush or offend him, so I just nodded politely.

  “Point is,” he continued, “I didn’t have to find her, because she found me. She filled out that online application you must have used. Got approved and came to see me. Said she wanted to know why I left. Something about understanding her past so she could move forward.”

  “Wow. You must have been shocked.” I sure was, but I tried to hide it. “When did she visit, exactly?” I hoped he’d say something reassuring, like “yesterday.”

  “Oh, hell. I don’t know. Right after her birthday. You’d have to look at a calendar. Whatever Saturday was after her birthday, I think.”

  “That must have been some kind of visit. What was it like to see her after all these years?”

  He sniffed and wiped his eyes. “Best day of my life, other than the day she was born. I told her that too.”

  I had so many questions, both as an investigator and a human. Had he apologized to her? How had he explained things? What had she said? Was she angry? Forgiving? Emotional? But I had to stay focused on the most pertinent facts.

  “How was Kat doing? What did she tell you about her life now?”

  “Oh, man. She turned out tough. I didn’t know she’d been in foster care. But it’s a good thing. I don’t want her to end up like her mom and me. She’s got a chance, and she has to take it.”

  “What do you mean by ‘tough’?”

  He laughed. “Have you met her?” I nodded. “She tells it like it is. She didn’t hold back with me, but, hey, I deserve it. And she wants to make something of herself now. Go to college, get a degree. Be a social worker. Help other kids.”

  That was news to me, and no one else had mentioned it either.

  “Did she tell you where she was living?”

  “She said a hotel, just while she got on her feet. She was gonna get a job, get an apartment. Go to the community college in town. I told her I wished I could help. I’m clean now, but I got a lot of time left.”

  “Did she give you any contact information, like a phone number?”

  “She did, but it’s disconnected. Do you know how to reach her? Because they’ve got this new program that lets you video chat with people who can’t come all this way to visit. If I can reach her, I’ll figure out how to get us connected that way.”

  “If I see her, I’ll give her that message,” I said.

  “That would be great. Thank you. But I’m kinda worried. Really, now, why are you checking up on Kat?”

  “It’s hard to explain without breaking confidentiality with my client,” I said. “But I definitely want what’s best for her, just like you. If she comes back, will you let me know?”

  “As best I can,” he said. “I’ll also tell her you were here.”

  “Of course,” I said. “That’s fine. I also want to confirm that she doesn’t have any siblings or half-siblings. Is that true?”

  “I sure don’t know of any, and she didn’t mention anyone. Like I said, I just don’t want her turning out like me and Corey. When I heard she’d been visiting Corey, I don’t know. It worried me. I’m no saint, but from what I know, Corey’s not a good influence either.”

  Again, I tried not to sound shocked, but this time it was harder. “Kat’s been visiting Corey?”

  “Oh, yeah. She wanted to tie up all her loose ends. I don’t know if they got along or what, but Kat had a lot to say to me, and probably Corey too. Kat wants a fresh start, you know?”

  “That sounds unusu
al for someone her age. Not that she wants a clean slate, but that she’s actually trying to create one.”

  “I know, doesn’t it? But she had all those years in foster care to think about us. That’s a lot of anger to store up. She wants to put it behind her.”

  “But you sound concerned that maybe things didn’t go well with Corey. Why?”

  “Corey can be a manipulator. Believe me, it takes one to know one. She had me wrapped around her finger for a while, but I learned.”

  “How did she manipulate you?”

  “I don’t know. It’s the way she talks. She gets you to do anything she wants. I bought her a lot of stuff back in the day. I’m sure she sold it all for drugs.”

  “How long has Kat been visiting her in jail?”

  “That’s what confuses me. The way Kat said it, it’s been a while, but Kat just turned eighteen. So someone must have been bringing her or letting her in. I didn’t ask about it. I was so focused on letting her go at me. It was great to hear her get mad at me. Isn’t that crazy? My shrink says I like being held accountable. Guess that’s a good sign, huh?”

  “Absolutely. So how did the two of you leave things?”

  “She said she appreciated my apology and that she’d think about staying in touch. That’s more than I can ask for. I’ve been living in hope ever since.”

  Hope.

  Not exactly what I was feeling after this visit, since one or more of them—Corey, Al, or Kat—was lying.

  Twenty-Three

  I was eager to talk with Corey and confront her with this news, but getting in touch wasn’t easy. In fact, getting in touch with anyone wasn’t easy. My cell phone was still missing and untraceable, and so was Kenna’s. We’d set up email alerts just in case anyone turned them on, and I was using a pay-as-you-go phone that didn’t have all my normal conveniences. I’d updated Mom, the kids’ school, and everyone else essential. Thankfully, I could still retrieve voicemail remotely.

  At home, I reconfigured my iPad to alert me to every email, a feature I rarely used because I received so many a day. The spam alone could drive me crazy, but I didn’t want to miss a thing. Until I knew that getting a new phone wouldn’t interfere with finding whoever was responsible for hurting Kenna and me, it could wait. I also gave thanks for my landline. I’d kept it because it gave 911 our address, something I wanted in case we—especially the kids—ever needed to call.

  Finally, coffee and PB&J in hand, I sat down to plan the next visit with Corey. I opened the jail website and my calendar while letting my mind wander.

  How could Kat have been visiting Corey without her foster family’s cooperation? Who could have accompanied her? Or did she have a fake ID? I checked the jail’s visitation rules word for word. Anyone under eighteen had to be accompanied by a parent or guardian. All adult visitors had to show an ID.

  I hadn’t researched fake IDs since college, when Kenna and I finagled our way into nightclubs, not especially interested in drinking, but reluctant to miss out on dancing and hanging out with older peers. Back then, for better or worse, the risk felt worth the payoff.

  A quick internet search told me times had changed. After 9/11, fake IDs had become more challenging to get and riskier to use. The internet connected teens with overseas companies that charged relatively affordable fees for convincing IDs. Those same companies often stole teens’ identities in the process. A kid might pay a couple hundred dollars for an ID, but end up on debt collectors’ lists.

  All that was interesting, but when I’d run my initial checks on Kat, her name hadn’t shown up in many databases. In fact, her neighbor, Mary, had told me Kat didn’t have a driver’s license because she’d failed driver’s ed.

  Then I had a flashback to the pet store. The owner had asked for Kat’s ID, and she’d produced something.

  As quickly as possible, I dialed the store, where the owner picked up, and I asked her about it.

  “Yes, I asked for her license, and she showed it to me,” she said. “I just made sure it matched our new-customer list.”

  “Was it a Virginia license?” I asked.

  “It must have been, because I think I’d remember anything else.”

  “Did it have her correct name?”

  “I think so. Kat, right?” I heard papers shuffling. “The same thing she wrote on our email list. Kat Burke.”

  “How did she spell it?”

  “C-a-t. Like the pet.”

  “How did she spell Burke?”

  “B-e-r-k-e.”

  “Do you remember the age on her license?”

  “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t check that. I didn’t need to.”

  “No problem. You’ve been such a help. I’m assuming she hasn’t been in since then?”

  “Oh, no. I would have called you.”

  “Okay. Thanks so much.”

  We hung up, and I rubbed my temples, forcing myself to focus.

  I’d read that when teens order fake IDs, some tweak their personal information just enough to avoid identity theft while still making their IDs easy to memorize. If they got caught for any of it, the penalties could be stiff.

  Kat could have used a fake ID to visit Corey, and she probably needed one to live independently.

  I started running background checks on Kat’s alternative name while brainstorming about what else she could have done with it. I also thought about Jared Funk. Brunelli had wanted me to ask Corey about him. I’d encouraged her to call me collect if possible, but she only had my cell number. That was a major problem. Even if she left a voicemail, I couldn’t call her back.

  I checked the visiting hours again. I needed to see her ASAP, and I could go that evening.

  Except I couldn’t. The kids would be home, and that meant I needed to be home too. I’d already asked enough of Kenna, Andy, Mom, and Dean. Maybe taking risks wasn’t my biggest parenting dilemma. Maybe it was finding time.

  “How’d it go with Al?” Dean asked when he called during a work break.

  I gave him the latest but hesitated when he asked about my next steps.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Is there something I’m not going to like?”

  “No. It’s not that. It’s just that I’m realizing this whole risk-taking thing…I don’t know.”

  “What? What about it?”

  “No matter how I feel about it, I don’t even know if I have time for it. I want to be home tonight, making dinner, reading stories, and tucking everyone in.”

  “And?”

  “And visiting hours are at dinner time.”

  “No big deal. I don’t mind helping out, if it’s okay with you.”

  I didn’t know what to say without being hurtful. I appreciate it, but until we make a permanent commitment, I’m not sure you should get so close to my kids. They’ve already lost both their male role models, and I don’t want them to lose another one.

  “It’s asking too much of you,” I said. “You’re my boyfriend, not my babysitter. It’s really nice of you to offer though. I mean it.”

  “This is one case and one night, Nicki. We don’t have to make a habit of it. Depending on what Corey says, this could be the last night you work this case. I mean, if she’s been lying to you, don’t you think it’s time to bow out?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But at this point, it’s about a lot more than Corey.”

  “I know. All the more reason to get the truth.”

  I searched for words that would say no politely, but I couldn’t find any. “Okay. Just tonight. An hour and a half, max.”

  “Whatever you need.”

  I just wished that was easier to define.

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight,” Corey said when I sat down across from her. “Please, tell me this means you have good news.”

  “I’m not sure what to think,” I said. “E
xcept that we need to have an honest conversation.”

  Corey looked around, eyes pausing on each nearby guard. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I can only help if you’re being straightforward with me, and I don’t think that’s been happening.”

  She tucked a strand of hair behind an ear and swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Honestly. Obviously, there are things I can’t tell you. There are always ears listening here.” She glanced around again and lowered her voice. “I can’t tell you everything.”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s no secret that Kat has been visiting you.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Who told you that?”

  “I’d like you to tell me. Why am I looking for someone you’ve been seeing regularly?”

  “I haven’t been seeing her. I mean, I was, but she stopped coming, and I didn’t know why. Everything else I told you was true. She’s a target for some really bad people. I’m sure of that. So when Kat stopped coming, I panicked. I’m sure you understand.”

  Her tears started falling, but I kept my sympathy in check. I’d been sucked in too easily before.

  “Not completely. What can you tell me about the person who told you, your old cellmate?”

  “Nothing. If I cross her, I don’t know what will happen. She knows Daddy B and his crew, whoever they are. She owed me, but we’re even now, and there are no more favors coming my way. It would only be trouble for everyone.”

  “Kat was really young to be visiting alone,” I said, emphasizing really in a way that I hoped got my message across.

  “I know.” She lowered her voice and leaned forward. “I know what you’re talking about. She just wanted to clear the air. I thought it was for the best.”

  “How long had she been coming to see you?”

  “Two months. Every week. She stopped right before I wrote to you.”

  “She needed eight visits to clear the air? That’s a lot.”

  “We were connecting again. I wanted her to understand the power of addiction. How hard it is to make the right choices. How much I wish I had. She was about to be on her own, and I wanted to protect her.”