by Willow Rose
Lucy chuckled. “Yeah, that is a help. But she keeps throwing those blocks away and then wanting them back, so I have to get them for her…see? She did it again.”
The block dropped to the floor, and Isabella made sounds while drool ran down her chin. Lucy wiped her daughter’s mouth, then grabbed the block, and gave it to her again. This time, the girl bit into it.
“Teething, huh?” I asked. “That’s probably disturbing her sleep, am I right?”
“Oh, my God, constantly,” Lucy said. “She cried almost all night.”
“Any of them poking through yet?”
“One of the lower front teeth has just poked through the gums; I think it hurts because she bites into everything these days.”
I nodded and chuckled. “You can buy these cooling toys that you put in the freezer; when they bite into them, it helps soothe the pain. Josie used to love those.”
“I’ll remember that,” Lucy said. “So…what can I do for you, Detective? I assume you didn’t come here to talk about baby teeth?”
I smiled. “Well…no. I need to talk to you. See, there are a lot of people looking for you. Have you heard about the kids that were killed on the boat? They were all from your school. There was also someone they found in a dumpster.”
Lucy nodded. Her eyes hit the floor. “I’ve seen a little bit about it on TV when Isabella has been asleep.”
“So, you also know that all those girls that have been killed were on the list of people who witnessed what happened to you on the beach.”
“You mean when I was raped,” she said, changing expression, her eyes suddenly filled with deep anger.
“Yes,” I said.
“I know,” she said sadly.
“Okay, so, now you might understand when I tell you that we have been looking for you in connection with these murders.”
She wrinkled her forehead. The baby fussed and started biting her hand instead of the block.
“No, why is that?”
“Well, the killings seem to be connected to what happened that night, and to be completely honest with you…”
She laughed. It took me by surprise. “They think I’m killing them? Because they wouldn’t testify? That’s ridiculous.” She grabbed her baby and held her up. “I have kind of been busy with something else here.”
“But, I have to ask you where you were on Saturday night between eight p.m. and midnight when the bodies were found?”
“Where I was? Where do you think I was? Where do I spend all my days and nights? I was right here, of course, taking care of this baby that I didn’t ask for because this is my life now. While all my friends are out being young and partying, I’m stuck here with her for the rest of my life. Not that I ever partied when I could, but I would at least like to be able to go out.”
“Did anyone see you? Your mom, was she here? Is there a doorman who can say you didn’t leave the condo?”
“I was…at home,” Valentina said. “And we don’t have a doorman. But Lucy only leaves the place when she takes Isabella for walks or when they go to the beach. I bring her groceries, or she orders take-out.”
“Did you order take-out that night?”
“I might have. I think I ordered a pizza. It’s what I eat most nights anyway before I pass out as soon as she falls asleep. No, wait, I didn’t order pizza on Saturday because I had Chinese leftovers from the night before.”
I rose to my feet, standing up straight. “I see. I just…well, I need to figure out how to explain it all to my superiors.”
“Maybe you just don’t,” she said and stood up, holding Isabella on her hip. “I don’t want anyone to know where I am or that I have a child. Just tell them I left the state, and I won’t be back.”
“I’m not sure it’s that easy. They will find you at some point,” I said, walking toward the door. A wooden chessboard with the black and white pieces on top of it stood on a small end table. None of the pieces were missing. “But, I guess I’ll just have to come up with something.”
I stopped and looked at the boardgame.
“Who plays chess?”
“Lucy was state champion,” her mother said proudly.
“That was years ago,” Lucy said and looked away. “In another lifetime.”
Chapter 33
Jean tried to call Harry, but as usual, it went straight to voicemail. What was it with him and cellphones? He had to be the only guy in this century that was impossible to reach. Harry never picked up his phone and always kept it on silent; it was annoying, especially now that Jean really needed to get ahold of him.
Come on, Harry, pick up!
When she got voicemail again, Jean growled and put the phone down. This wasn’t the kind of stuff you told to voicemail. It was too important. She wondered if she should get in her car and drive down to the high school and look for him, but she still had several hours left of her shift and couldn’t just leave. The patients needed her.
“Why do you have to make everything so difficult, Harry?” she mumbled as she put the phone back in the chest pocket of her scrubs. She walked down the hallway, and as she passed Sophia’s room, she saw movement. The door was open, so she peeked inside, an uneasy sensation growing inside of her.
“Hello?”
A shadow moved by the wall, and Jean’s heart dropped.
“Who…wh…?”
A person wearing a doctor’s coat was bent over Sophia’s body, and at first, Jean thought something had happened to her, but then she saw the plastic bag wrapped around Sophia’s face.
“Hey, what are you doing? STOP!”
Jean sprang forward, grabbed the person by the collar and pulled it forcefully. The person stumbled backward but managed to push Jean off, and she slid backward across the floor, hitting her back against something hard. Sophia’s body was jerking in the bed, and Jean began to scream.
“HELP! SOMEONE HELP!”
Jean stood to her feet, then lunged forward, plunging into this person with all her weight. She grabbed the attacker around the neck with her arm and pulled with all her might. The attacker gasped as she pulled and pulled till the hands let go of the plastic bag while she still screamed for help.
“HELP. IN HERE. HELP!”
Jean stared at Sophia while fighting the attacker, who was struggling to hold onto the squirming body. Sophia wasn’t moving in the bed; her chest wasn’t heaving up and down like it was supposed to.
Was I too late? Is she still breathing?
The attacker tried to fight loose from her grip and managed to push an elbow into Jean’s stomach so hard that she let go with a loud yelp. The attacker then turned around, grabbed Jean, and slammed a fist into her face, repeating it three times. Pain shot through her jaw and into her brain. She saw stars and felt her body fall to the ground, then slide across the tiles. She heard footsteps in the distance, then yelling, and sensed her attacker going into panic. She then felt hands on her body. She tried to scream for help, but nothing came out. At least she didn’t think it did. As she was put into a wheelchair and rolled off down the hallway, Jean was slowly fading off into the unknown.
Chapter 34
My dad was sitting in the living room when I got back, watching the news on TV. I kissed his forehead and then went into the kitchen to unload the groceries. I had promised Josie I’d make my famous meatloaf for dinner, her favorite. Big Daddy’s Killer Meatloaf…she had named it a couple of years ago. It was actually my mom’s recipe, but I knew that she wouldn’t mind if I took the credit.
We sat down to eat, the three of us, with Josie trying to look at her phone under the table, thinking I didn’t see her.
“Josie,” I said and nodded toward the phone in her hand. “Not at the table.”
She put it down with a deep sigh, and my dad blessed the food.
“Thank you, God, for this wonderful food and the wonderful company. Thank you for blessing us all and for taking good care of Ellen till we can be with her again. Amen.”
“Amen,
” I said and nodded at Josie to begin serving herself some food.
“Finally,” she exclaimed and cut a huge chunk of the meatloaf and put it on her plate. “I’m starving.”
My dad chuckled when seeing her plate getting filled and her throwing herself at it like she hadn’t seen food for days. I remembered that kind of appetite at her age when I was shooting up like a rocket too. It was hard to explain to your smaller friends, but you needed loads of food when growing that fast, and being hungry felt like you would die. I often came close to passing out in those days.
“No Jean tonight?” my dad said after a few bites.
I froze when hearing her name mentioned. I had to admit; I was happy she wasn’t here tonight. I wouldn’t know how to face her after what had happened earlier in the day. What would I say to her? She had rushed out, completely out of it. Not that I felt like she needed to be. It wasn’t her fault. We had both wanted this to happen.
“I think she’s working,” I said, hoping he’d change the subject.
“I’m done. Can I be excused?” Josie said and grabbed her phone. I had the feeling she had hurried up to finish eating as fast as possible, so she could get back on her phone, texting her friends, or watching videos or whatever she was doing. I gave her a concerned look, the “daddy look,” as she called it.
“You sure you had enough to eat? You know how easily you get hungry an hour after dinner because you didn’t eat enough.”
She shrugged and got up with the phone in her hand. “I’ll just grab some chips or something then.”
She rushed up, running past me, but I stopped her.
“Plate,” I said. “It won’t find its way to the dishwasher on its own.”
She groaned loudly, sounding like she was going to die. I shared a look with my dad, and he lifted his eyebrows while Josie did as she was told. I chuckled as she left.
“And so it has begun,” my dad said, drinking his sweet tea. “You ready for total and utter chaos for the next five years or so?”
I ate some of my meatloaf and mashed potatoes. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said.
“It’s not gonna be easy being the only one here,” he said. “Once those boys come knocking on your door…I remember when they started coming for Reese…”
He paused, then looked down. I felt a pinch in my heart. Reese wasn’t doing well. I hadn’t spoken to her in weeks, and neither had my dad. We were worried about her, and there wasn’t a day when we both didn’t wonder what her life would have turned out to be if it hadn’t been for that rape.
She had never been the same afterward.
My dad leaned back in the chair and sent me a sad smile. “Anyway, I meant what I said yesterday. You really ought to do something about it before it’s too late.”
“About Jean?”
“Yes.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “I thought we talked about this, Dad. I’m a married man. I have a wife.”
He leaned forward and put his hand on my arm. “When will you realize she’s not coming back? You have to let her go, son. She’s gone. You heard the doctors. She’s never coming back. It never happens with people in her condition. Can’t you see? You’re wasting away, trying to care for her, scrambling to make it all work. Yes, Jean is here to help, but for how long? Once she realizes you don’t want her, she’s gonna go away. And then what?
Meanwhile, you’re missing out on everything. You’re thirty-six for crying out loud. You’re still young. You need to live your life. I see the way you two look at one another, the way you talk. That kind of love is so rare. When you have it, you should hold onto it for dear life.”
I exhaled tiredly. My dad had never been fond of Camille. I don’t know if it was her past with the drugs or the fact that she was Caribbean. But he never really connected with her, and my mother didn’t either. Still, they had always tried their best. It broke my mother’s heart when she overdosed, and she helped out for a long time until she died suddenly of an aneurism while vacuuming her house. I sometimes wondered if seeing me in so much distress after Camille’s overdose played a part in the aneurysm bursting.
“Don’t waste any more of your life, son,” he continued. “You’ll only end up regretting it. You don’t want that kind of regret in your life.”
“So, what, you want me just to forget I have a wife upstairs? I can’t do that, Dad.”
“Send her to a nursing home, son. They can take care of her there. There’ll be someone with her all the time, trained nurses who will be able to give her the care she needs. The way it is now, you’re barely keeping it together. You’re exhausted. It’s too much.”
I leaned back in my chair with a surprised scoff. I shook my head. “What on Earth happened to believing in miracles, Dad?”
He put his fist on the table. “She’s not gonna wake up, son. You’re living in a fantasy if you believe she will.”
“Wow,” I said as I got up and began clearing the table. I stopped with the plates in my hands, then looked down at my dad. “Well, you can think what you want, Dad. I still believe God will bring her back to me. I have faith that he will wake her up, and I want her to be here in the house, surrounded by her loved ones when it happens.”
Chapter 35
Waking up was painful. Her head was pounding. The sounds coming from outside her body felt so loud…her head was about to explode. Her entire body was hurting so badly she wanted to scream.
Yet, she couldn’t.
Jean tried again, then shot her eyes wide open.
Oh, dear God, no.
She couldn’t scream for the simple reason that she had been gagged. A wet cloth that tasted like dirty laundry had been shoved into her mouth and halfway down her throat, making her want to gag.
Help? Someone? Anyone?
She was lying down. Her hands had been tied, and her legs bound together. The place she was in was so tight that she could barely move.
Where am I?
Darkness surrounded her, and she tried to sit up but couldn’t. There was no more space above her head, and she knocked into the roof.
What is this place?
While groaning behind the gag, she tried to move around, to turn herself so she might be able to see something, anything, but there was nothing but darkness in the tight space. In the distance somewhere, she thought she heard noises; was someone speaking? No, it was different. It was singing. It was a radio. Somewhere close by, a radio was running.
Hello?
She tried to get a sound out behind her gag, but it was impossible. No matter how much power she put behind it, there was nothing but muffled sounds. The wet cloth in her mouth felt like it would suffocate her. Panic set in at the thought, and her heart began hammering in her chest, knocking against her ribcage. She tried to calm herself, but it was nearly impossible. The feeling that she couldn’t move caused her to lose control of herself and she hyperventilated.
She closed her eyes and cried, trying to remember what had happened…what had gone down before this moment. She remembered being in Sophia’s room. She recalled there being someone in there, and then the fight. She remembered falling, and then the fist that kept coming again and again.
Was there a wheelchair? Yes, she remembered being put in one, then being rolled away. She even remembered the people she passed, trying to speak to them, to reach out or scream for help, but no sound came out of her. She remembered their eyes focused on something else, some even running, none of them noticing her. And then she remembered drifting in and out of consciousness…that alluring darkness that kept calling to her. She remembered it all like small pieces of film that she now ran for her inner eye, piecing it all together until she finally opened her eyes with a gasp for air.
Just as she did this, she heard an engine turn over and then felt the room she was in begin to move.
Chapter 36
“I’m telling you, Camille, she’s turning into a regular teenager. It’s gotta be the hormones. That’s the only way I can explain it. La
st night, I couldn’t get her to go to bed. She kept crying. Finally, I managed to calm her down and get her to talk. Apparently, she’s struggling with friends at school. Her best friend, DD, has turned her back on her and is now best friends with some other girl and won’t even talk to Josie at school. Now, she thinks no one likes her, that everyone thinks she’s weird. It breaks my heart to see her like this. What happened to my girl who could be beaten by nothing in life? She used to be so strong. She never used to care what other people thought about her. I thought our struggle would be her stubbornness. Not this. This is nothing like what I imagined. You should have seen her, Camille. She was inconsolable, and I couldn’t help her. I never thought it was going to be like this. I have no idea how to deal with stuff like that, all the drama. I’m a boy. We never had drama like that. At least none that I know of.”
I sighed and looked at my wife in the darkness. She was sleeping. At least, I thought she was. It was hard to tell. I grabbed her hand in mine and kissed the back of it.
“Gosh, I wish you were here to help me,” I said and wiped away a tear. “You’d know what to do, how to help her. It doesn’t matter what I say; it doesn’t help anything. It usually only makes her even angrier or sadder.”
I leaned back in my chair and looked out the window at the horizon. The sun had begun to rise, and it was getting lighter out. I had only slept a few hours, but I knew I wasn’t going to get any more. Instead, I leaned over, kissed my wife on the forehead, then headed into the shower.
When Josie came down, I had made pancakes and bacon, thinking her favorite breakfast might cheer her up. To my surprise, she was in an excellent mood this morning and didn’t mention a single word about her friends or what she had been so sad about the night before. She smiled and kissed my cheek as I served her the food. I looked at the clock and realized I had to get going if I was going to make it to the Covington house before William left for school. I was getting pretty sick of playing babysitter, but what could I do? I needed my job.