Window of Guilt

by Spallone, Jennie

  “The camp supervisor couldn’t say.”

  “He could have been hiding a gun or knife, right?” she countered.

  “At this point, Mrs. Atkins, there’s nothing to be concerned about. As we gather more information, we’ll pass it along to the residents.”

  “So we just need to keep our eyes and ears open, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Sitting ducks that we are.”

  Rolling her eyes, Officer Gomez stepped off the stairs. “Good day, ma’am.”

  It didn’t take a brain surgeon to recognize the officer was incensed by her rude behavior, but Laurie could no longer contain her anxiety. She and Ryan had brought Rory up to their safe haven, and now it had been infiltrated by the bad guys. She started to call the officer back, then stopped.

  Officer Gomez turned back toward the house. “Did you say something, ma’am?”

  Laurie shook her head.

  “Make sure that trash can’s locked so the wild critters don’t get at it.” With that, the officer turned on her heel and headed back towards her vehicle.

  Like that’s all she had to worry about.

  *

  After emptying the yellow bag into the trash can, Laurie closed the garage door, then eyed her son running up their long driveway. She waved at the carpooling mom’s silver SUV as it turned the corner, then squatted into a baseball catcher’s pose as if to block Rory’s way.

  “Hi mom.” Rory veered around her and headed up the porch stairs. “Did you go grocery shopping like you promised?”

  “It’s been kind of crazy around here. Never got to it.” Laurie followed her son up the stairs. “Want a salami sandwich or just milk and cookies?”

  “Whatever.” He dropped his blue Yu Gi O backpack by the door, then headed for the family room.

  Laurie unzipped the backpack and pulled out a tightly screwed water bottle nestled in a melted ice pack. “Rory, you need to stay hydrated in this weather,” she admonished. “People die of heat exhaustion.”

  “You’re not supposed to scare little kids,” he teased as he settled in front of his X-Box.

  Laurie relaxed her shoulders. “I thought you were eighteen.”

  “Quit goofing around, Mom.”

  “What’d you do at camp today?” Laurie asked, popping the water bottle into the fridge.

  “Nothing much,” he called back, thumbs clicking on the Street Basketball control panel.

  After not seeing her son all day, Laurie longed to reconnect. “Did you go water skiing?” She placed four thin slices of kosher salami between two slices of light rye bread lightly brushed with mustard, then cut the sandwich in half.

  “Uh huh.”

  “Wilderness hike?” she said, grabbing a Capri Sun Fruit Punch from the refrigerator.

  “You’ve got the schedule, Mom. Quit asking me all these questions.”

  “Don’t be disrespectful,” she said, placing his TV tray within easy reach. “Wash your hands.”

  “Fine,” he said, grumpily marching off to the hallway bathroom.

  “So that’s all you did today, then?” she called, waiting for her son in the hallway.

  Rory emerged from the bathroom, a frown on his face, and headed back to the family room. “A police officer came to talk to us, okay?”

  Laurie tensed. “About what?”

  “Mom, if I kept interrupting you when you were watching Gilmore Girls re-runs, you’d be mad, too, wouldn’t you?” said Rory, tearing into his sandwich.

  Laurie tickled the back of his neck. That show reminded her of the relationship she’d had with her own mother growing up. “Hey, you’re my only kid. I like to know what’s going on with you, that’s all.”

  “This dude was hanging around camp at lunchtime,” Rory spluttered through a mouthful of salami and mustard.

  Laurie strove to keep the anxiety out of her voice. “Somebody’s dad?”

  “Nobody knew him. The police lady told us to only walk around camp with a buddy.”

  “Did you see what this guy looked like?”

  Rory shook his head. “Nick and me were getting our lunch bags. But the police lady said he wore a yellow jersey with the letters ‘TG’ on the front.”

  Laurie forced a smile. “Don’t jerseys usually have letters on the back?”

  “Maybe the store made a mistake on his. Now can I please play my game?”

  Laurie ruffled his hair. “Go for it.”

  *

  Laurie was rinsing her son’s snack plate when she heard a light rap on the kitchen door. Two familiar faces squinted at her through the screen door. Dropping the plastic dish into the sink, she hurried across the room and flipped the lock handle.

  “Do you mind if Nicky play here for awhile?” asked Yelena, the carpooling mom. “He tear shorts at camp. I must go Wal-Mart. He not want to go with me.”

  “No problem,” said Laurie. She ushered Yelena and her son into the house. “Rory’s in the family room, Nick.”

  “I only stay a minute. Bring blueberry muffins for snack,” said Nicky’s mom.

  “Great! Rory just ate his sandwich, but there’s always room for dessert.” Laurie set the plastic container of muffins on the table. Then she extracted two clean glasses from the dishwasher and placed them alongside the muffins. “Milk?”

  “I no bother you. Just give to boys.”

  “It’s no bother, really,” said Laurie. She pulled a gallon jug from the refrigerator. Then she poured two glasses and handed one to Yelena. “Did Nicky mention a police officer showed up at camp today?”

  Yelena nodded as she sipped from the glass. “Very troubling.”

  “Rory says some guy was hanging around at lunch time,” confided Laurie. “He ran off when the camp supervisor approached.”

  “I spend much money so my Nicky have exciting camp experience.”

  “Thank goodness the boys are safe,” Laurie consoled her, extracting a blueberry muffin. “There’s probably nothing to worry about. The police are patrolling the area as we speak.”

  “I read in newspaper about pedophiles. Hopefully, this man not one of them.”

  “Rory said he and Nicky didn’t even catch a glimpse of this man. All they were told is that he wore blue jeans and a yellow jersey with the letters ‘TG’ on the front.”

  Yelena dabbed at her lips. “I go now. Thank you for milk.”

  “And thank you for the muffins,” said Laurie.

  Rory popped into the kitchen. “Hey Mom, we’re going down by the pier.”

  “Play in the front yard, bud.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so.”

  “That’s not a reason,” her son said, obviously exasperated.

  “Nicky’s mom brought blueberry muffins.”

  “We’ll have some later. Bye.” Rory and his friend shot out the door.

  “Stay in the front yard,” Laurie called through the open window. “And take your cell.”

  “Fine,” he yelled back.

  “I worry for them to be outside alone,” said Yelena.

  “No problem,” said Laurie. “I can watch them from the kitchen window.”

  “Even so,” she said doubtfully.

  “I’ll be right here studying.” Not. Her eyes would be peeled on the boys.

  3

  By eight o’clock p.m., the temperature had dropped to seventy-five degrees. Rocky playfully attacked the water hose as Laurie maneuvered it back and forth across the front yard. She was just about to water the section where the squirrel had died when she noticed a folded paper napkin clinging to the bottom branch of a nearby bush. Pointing the hose off to the side, she bent down and shook the ants from the napkin crease. Then she perused the writing. Laurie gasped. Her Wisconsin address stared back at her, its large block print slightly faded. Her Chicago address appeared beneath it in smaller ink-penned letters!

  First her dream. Then the police officer’s appearance. Now this napkin with her personal information enclosed. Clutching th
e napkin, Laurie ambled towards the house, then remembered Ryan had gone to pick up some DVDs. Upon returning from the lake earlier tonight, he’d acted all kissy face. Laurie pushed him away, keeping mum about the day’s misadventures. “Not until you apologize for being a jerk this morning.”

  “My health club bill is my business,” he’d muttered. “I’ve never asked you to pay for it.”

  One year ago, for reasons he still refused to disclose, Ryan had up and quit his job as a health insurance adjuster. Two months later, he’d suffered a heart attack. Fortunately, Ryan had still qualified to Cobra out of his company’s health insurance plan. He was still paying off his crazy high deductible, forcing the family to severely reduce their monthly expenses. Exhibit A for why Laurie needed to pass her real estate exam and reboot her own professional life.

  Laurie snickered. Her “professional life” had consisted of playing piano for nursing homes and writing press releases for local small businesses. In the first five years after Rory was born, she’d adeptly incorporated motherhood into her lifestyle. But once PTO meetings, reading literacy volunteer requests, and play dates burst to the forefront of her calendar, Laurie chucked her part-time gigs and jumped headlong into her son’s environment. She could afford to revel in her new life—that is, until the moment Ryan slammed his lucrative career as a health insurance adjuster into the toilet. Even now, he refused to share the particulars of the decision that had turned her world sideways.

  This very morning, Laurie’s query about Ryan’s personal training bill had caused a hullabaloo. Accustomed to paying his own bills from a separate checking account—what little was left in it—Ryan had bristled at her intrusion into his business. She wondered whether the resentment boiling within her belly would have extinguished itself had he given her a heads-up.

  Yet, she couldn’t stay mad at Ryan for long. Tonight when he asked what they were doing for dinner, she’d told him to fend for himself. Later he phoned from Walmart. “Got a couple of hot DVDs and a quart of ice cream,” he said, breathing heavy into the phone. Chuckling, she’d hung up on him. As if the family discount store carried X-rated movies! His humor was the mortar that bound them during these trying times.

  Staring at the napkin, fear seared the playful feeling from Laurie’s soul. She wished Ryan were here to censor her imagination from running its solo marathon. You’re just overreacting, he would say. Indeed, it was possible the napkin had fallen out of Rory’s backpack. Her son probably copied his contact information to give a new camp buddy.

  Exhausted by the vast array of sports activities he’d engaged in at camp this week, Rory had voluntarily gone up to his room early. Grabbing Rocky, Laurie bounded up the oak stairs, then hung out in the hall landing, waiting for Rory to turn off his electric Yu Gi O toothbrush.

  “Rocky wants to brush, too,” Laurie said, posing the pup’s paw on his mouth.

  Her son giggled, toothpaste dribbling down his chin.

  “You laugh so hard, another tooth will fall out.”

  “Really?” he asked, his brown eyes clouding.

  “Kidding.”

  “You sure? Basketball players can’t be toothless.”

  “When you become a basketball player, you’ll definitely have a full set of teeth. That is, if you stay away from playing football.”

  “But I want to play football, too.”

  “Let’s run that one by your dad and see what he thinks.”

  “He home yet?”

  “Pretty soon.”

  Rory wiped off his mouth, his eyes sparkling. “Great. I’ll wait up.”

  Laurie laughed. “Nice try, but no cigar.”

  Her son frowned. “What’s that mean?”

  “That means you gotta go to sleep now, kiddo,” she said, taking him by the shoulders and steering him towards his room.

  “You are so mean,” he mumbled, climbing into bed.

  Laurie drew her son’s NFL sheet up around his shoulders. “By the way, a napkin with our Wisconsin and Chicago addresses fell out of your backpack. I put it on the kitchen table.”

  Rory positioned his stuffed animals. “Didn’t write any addresses on a napkin.”

  “You’re always giving out your number to new friends.”

  Rory maneuvered his stuffed tiger beneath his head.

  “Check out the writing if you don’t believe me. Are you gonna read to me now?”

  Panic gripped her gut. Of course she’d recognize her own son’s handiwork. “Would you mind reading to yourself for a few minutes, honey?” Laurie asked, her voice tremulous. “I have an important call to make.”

  “What’s so important that you can’t read to me first?” he whined.

  “I need to ask Mitzy a quick question.”

  “Can I watch TV in your room until you’re done?” he bargained.

  “Fine.” Laurie started towards her room.

  “Mom!”

  Laurie sighed. “What now?” she called.

  “Rocky peed all over my sheets!”

  *

  “You won’t believe what happened today!” Laurie put her cell phone on loudspeaker as she paced the downstairs hallway.

  “My day at school was fine,” said Mitzy, “except for the bi-polar eighth grader who threw his chair at another student.”

  “Very funny. School hasn’t even started yet.”

  “Thanks for noticing.”

  Laurie stooped to pick up a doggie toy. “I found a dead body on my front lawn.”

  “Is Ryan driving you to drink or what?” her friend asked, giggling.

  She tossed the toy into a wicker basket positioned atop the dog crate. “I’m not kidding, Mitzy. And turn your car radio down.”

  “How’d you know I was in the car?”

  “That’s the only place you play the new Dave Matthews CD I bought you.”

  Her friend lowered the volume. “Okay, I’ll bite. Where’s the body now?”

  Laurie swung open the pantry door and scooped a handful of M&M’s from a plastic container. “It got up and walked away.”

  “Halloween’s still two months away, kiddo.”

  “Will you shut up and listen?”

  “My, my. Aren’t we testy tonight.”

  “I’d been gardening for three hours straight and it was like ninety-eight degrees outside.”

  “People die of heat stroke, you know,” said Mitzy.

  Exactly what she’d told Rory, thought Laurie. “I gave him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but it’s no use.”

  “You really are hard up, aren’t you?”

  “You are so gross, Mitzy,” said Laurie. She poured herself a glass of low-fat skim milk to go along with the M&M’s. “I was feeling lightheaded, but I made it back to the house for my phone. Once inside, I passed out. Then this police officer shows up and tells me a young vagrant wearing a yellow jersey with the initials ‘TG’ was trespassing at Rory’s camp at noon.”

  “Let me guess,” Mitzy said, her voice ghostly. “The dead kid on your front lawn was the same guy spotted at the camp site. You know, the newspaper mentioned it was a real scorcher up in Wisconsin today. You were probably hallucinating.”

  “That’s what I thought when I discovered a nutshell and a dead squirrel where the body had been.”

  “You know, you really shouldn’t be alone at a time like this.”

  “A time like what?”

  “When you’re freaking out.”

  “I’m not alone. Ryan’s here.”

  “Let me talk to him.”

  “He’ll be back from Walmart any second now.”

  “I get it. You guys saw a DVD about a missing body.”

  “Knock it off, will ya? I was watering the lawn tonight when I spotted a folded paper napkin in a bush.”

  “And this napkin was lying near the location of the missing body?”

  “How’d you know?” Laurie asked incredulously.

  “I’m not a former investigative reporter for nothing,” Mitzy said wryly.
/>   “Both my Wisconsin and Chicago addresses were printed on the napkin.”

  “No mystery there, Sherlock. Your renter dropped it when she moved out.”

  “Shakia’s been gone two months—a fact I’ve yet to share with Ryan. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep mum about it, too.”

  “Now, now, Laurie. Threatening solves squat. Did Ryan believe you?”

  “Didn’t get a chance to tell him yet. I can’t believe you’d draw the shutters on a bizarre scenario like this.”

  “I’m a special ed teacher now. My ‘Who Done It?’ days are over. Hey, I just pulled into my mom’s driveway. Get a good night’s sleep and we’ll chat tomorrow.”

  Laurie clicked the telephone. She could phone her mother. And what? Get her all freaked out? Ask her to fly in from Phoenix? Better she handled this herself.

  *

  Laurie groaned as she glanced at the grandfather clock. Nine o’clock pm. How long did it take for Ryan to pick up ice cream and a couple of DVDs? She crumpled another page of recycled typing paper and tossed it across the dining room. Then she returned her attention to creating the perfect “FOR RENT” ad for her summer home. Attempting to secure a year-round renter was like trying to appease a capricious lover. Adjectives and verbs needed to tantalize, yet not elicit a one-night stand.

  Wildly popular for its classified ads, Craig’s List was gaining momentum in the housing market as well. Thus, Laurie decided to place her advertisement solely on the same venue that had brought Shakia to her doorstep two years ago. She hoped to file away a signed rental agreement before the family returned to Chicago.

  If she was already a licensed realtor, the listing would be safely ensconced on the multiple listing service website. For a fee of one month’s rent, a local realtor would deal with the showings. But like everybody else, Laurie wanted to save the commission.

  As she tweaked the wording, Rocky dozed beneath the table. She tickled his white, fuzzy tummy with her toes. Here was one guy who slurped up any tidbit of love and attention he received. No protest over a missed play date or an unwelcome dinner entrée. Grateful joy warmed her soul.

  Just then, her left foot touched something warm and wet. Laurie jumped up from the table. “Rocky!” she admonished. What was going on with this dog? Since the vagrant incident, he’d been peeing up a storm.