by Maria Quick
Probably.
Zainab came prepared. She had a miniature bottle of champagne and two plastic cups.
‘Should you be drinking?’ I asked as I took a sip.
‘Should you?’
Touché.
We gingerly touched glasses and toasted.
‘To Leesha. May she find a hot babe in Heaven.’
‘Hear, hear.’
We drank and stood awkwardly, neither knowing what to say.
‘Is she still here?’ she asked, looking around. For what, I don’t know.
‘No, she’s gone. For good.’
‘Wow. That’s it. It’s really final. I have to say, it was amazing what you did. Tamara thrives on her image. The whole world thought she was a caring mom, encouraging her daughter to be the best. I did, when I first met her.’
‘Leesha didn’t tell you?’ I frowned.
‘No. I had to guess. I’ve seen that a lot in abuse cases, though. The abused never see themselves as victims. They always make excuses and defend their abuser. After a while, things stopped adding up. I could see that something wasn’t right. It was when she ranted to me about her art dreams that it all came out. Then, after that, it was like she’d forgotten. She went back to thinking of her mom as everyone else saw her. It broke my heart. And I also wanted to yell at her a lot.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘Would that have made me any different to her mom?’
‘Of course,’ I replied. I didn’t even need to think about it.
‘Maybe,’ she hedged. ‘I don’t know, maybe it would’ve changed things if I had. Or maybe, her mom would’ve killed her, anyway.’
‘Do you know what happened after I left? It looked like she was about to get murdered herself.’
Screw it, I had to ask. If Tamara was dead, then so be it.
‘Yeah, that’s what I was hoping for, but it was kinda disappointing. She just walked back to her car, and the crowd chanted “murderer” after her. Then, everybody went their separate ways. It’s all over everywhere, though. I searched Leesha’s name an hour ago and that was the first thing that popped up. I doubt she’ll get arrested, but like you said: we all know.’
And sometimes, that was enough, you know? In a perfect world, all killers would be in jail or dead themselves, but it doesn’t always pan out that way. I had a feeling that Tamara would try and weather the storm, and if that didn’t work out, she’d leave. To go abuse somebody else, no doubt, but that’s life. There’s little I can do here, guys. I’d love to tell you that she eventually met her maker in a horrific and torturous way, but she didn’t. As far as I know, she’s still alive and well. No happy endings here, folks. If there were, I wouldn’t be telling you this story in the first place.
‘What happens now?’ Zainab asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘What will you do? Where will you go?’
‘I think I’m gonna head home and eat a load of candy bars.’
‘I meant after that,’ she smiled wryly.
‘After that, I’m going to bed. Been a long day.’
She gave me a look that screamed disappointment, not unlike the ones my father tends to give me.
‘Really? You’re not thinking of college or a career or using... this?’
Ugh, she sounded like my careers advisor at school. Being completely average at absolutely every subject, she’d been at a loss what to do with me, especially since I’d offered her no help in that regard. She’d halfheartedly suggested teaching.
I’d thanked her for her time.
‘None of those seem like options to me, if I’m honest.’
‘Look, I know it can seem scary to take the plunge, but it’s worth it. Believe me. I wanted to be a lawyer, but with my criminal record, I was told that it was a long shot at best. I’d be better off giving up and doing something else. But I didn’t, you know? I kept at it. I got an internship at Bridle’s, and they’ve agreed to hire me once I become a fully-fledged lawyer.’
‘Congratulations,’ I told her. Still not for me, though.
She eventually understood that I wasn’t about to share some random dream with her, nodding at me.
‘Alright. I’m gonna head back home. It’s been a crazy few days. But keep my number, okay? You might need me in future.’
‘Sure, when I stumble upon another dead guy, I’ll-’
‘Not that. I meant you.’
‘How’s that?’
‘I know you’ve had trouble with the cops in the past. I’m saying, if you need somebody to defend you, think of me.’
‘Thanks, I appreciate it. I already have a lawyer, though. Plus, I’ve never been convicted yet,’ I said, mentally applauding myself. ‘I might be crazy but that’s not against the law.’
‘I didn’t mean dead people. I mean you,’ she said again.
Apparently I was missing something.
‘What?’
‘Can I be blunt?’ she asked.
I shrugged. Knock yourself out.
‘Seeing ghosts isn’t the only rumor I’ve heard about you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘People talk, Ann. Cops come into our office all the time. They talk about you. Six months ago-’
‘Okay, I’ve heard enough. I’m gonna go. Thanks for your help.’
I could not hear about that again.
‘You’ll need me, Ann,’ she yelled to my rapidly disappearing back. ‘I know that mistakes happen, just like it did with my uncle. I can defend you. You can’t run from this forever.’
Who the hell was running? Seemed to be every single day I heard about that incident. All it did was bring up memories of Tommy.
And that reminded me that they may have been fake.
I needed to tell George, stat.
‘Talk about much?’ he asked as I got back to my car at lightning speed.
‘No. Nothing. But I need to tell you something,’ I blurted out.
‘Uh-oh,’ he braced himself.
‘When Rathers called me the other day, I asked about Tommy Perez. Do you remember him?’
‘You mentioned him once or twice,’ he said dryly.
‘Well, I mentioned him to Rathers.’
‘And?’
I got stage fright. I couldn’t say it, I’d look crazy.
‘He’s alive?’ he guessed.
‘No! Just the opposite, in fact.’
His brows furrowed as he pondered the opposite of “alive.”
‘You already told me he was dead.’
‘Okay. Clearly, I’m not explaining this properly.’
‘Nope, I’m with you on that one.’
Here goes. I was saying it out loud, and I was going to look insane.
‘Rathers said he’s never met a person called Tommy Perez.’
He did not appear to be shocked at all by that statement.
‘Right,’ he only said.
It was then that I remembered that he’d been thinking this a few days ago. I hastened to defend myself.
‘I’m not crazy!’ I screeched. He jumped. Okay, if anybody ever finds a way to say that without looking crazy, lemme know. Please.
‘Do you know what precinct he worked at?’
Oh, good question. If I knew that, then I could easily go to the station and ask about him.
‘No.’
But, I did not.
‘Do you have a picture of him?’
‘No.’
‘And you’re the only living person to ever meet this guy,’ he concluded.
‘I’m not crazy,’ I said through gritted teeth.
‘Okay,’ he said in a calming tone. ‘What do you know about him?’
Lots of things. I knew he had a wife and wanted kids. I knew he wanted a promotion but things were tough at work. He worked long hours, and it caused arguments between him and his wife. I knew her name was Pilar. She came from a big Argentinian family and wanted that for herself. She didn’t speak much English so she stayed at home. It depres
sed her, being alone all the time, especially in a foreign country. He tried to make it up to her by bringing her roses home. They were her favorite flower.
I knew him. And at the same time, I knew nothing about him.
‘We talked for hours,’ I said. Not really an answer to anything.
‘Okay, so give me something concrete, Ann. Think of yourself as a lucy. What would you be asking yourself?’
Evidence.
‘We met at the same place every week, outside Baskin-Robbins. It was on his beat.’
‘Great, so he was wearing uniform. If you can recall any distinguishing features on it-’
‘He wasn’t in uniform,’ I said.
I can’t explain the look George gave me. Look, I know how this all sounds, alright? I can hear myself talk. I’ve raked lucies over the coals for less. But, I never questioned it. What do you want me to say? He was in uniform the day we met, when he caught me breaking into a house. He wasn’t in it any time after that. I mean, I never said he was on duty. I just said that it was on his beat.
So, sue me.
‘Where is this Baskin-Robbins?’ George asked.
35
‘I’m not crazy,’ I said it, and I kept saying it, unprompted.
George wasn’t even replying any longer. I was speaking to myself.
Look, why would I make it up? I have a bad relationship with every single cop I’ve ever met. My imagination, as we know, is practically nonexistent. I have told you enough times how hard Tommy’s death hit me. You think I can make something like that up?
And why the hell would I?
I didn’t. I really didn’t. I promise you, I didn’t.
I am not crazy.
Since I got back from Texas, it’s like my whole life has been destroyed. My mom didn’t leave when I thought she did, she was apparently not the perfect person she’s made out to be, and now Tommy may not even exist. It feels like everything’s suddenly gone wrong. You know what? I blamed Tess.
Oh, sure. Blame the therapist. That doesn’t make me sound insane at all.
Oh, God. I needed to focus. I need to- breathe. Think. Stop talking to myself in disjointed sentences, maybe. That’d help.
I don’t even know why I was coming to Baskin-Robbins. All it’d prove is that an ice cream store existed. Big whoop. I’ve probably driven past this a million times before. It’d be the easiest thing in the world to simply pluck out a familiar building as a meeting spot.
Okay, I wasn’t even defending myself anymore. This was not good.
‘Why’ve we stopped?’ George asked, his first words since my overuse of the word “crazy.”
‘We’re here,’ I sighed, screwing my eyes shut. I know, I’ll count to ten slowly and take some deep breaths. And then, after almost asphyxiating, I’ll be feeling brand new and refreshed.
One-
‘Where?’
‘Where do you think?’ I snapped, turning on him. See, if he’d let me count, I would’ve been calm. I jabbed my finger at places as I said ’em. ‘Where I met Tommy. The theater’s over there, the antiques store is behind us and the Baskin-Robbins is over there-’
Spoiler alert, it wasn’t. There wasn’t a Baskin-Robbins in sight.
Everything else was the same. The theater and the antiques store were right where they should’ve been. The bench that we sat on was still there. The Baskin-Robbins was not.
In its place was a laundromat.
A very new laundromat, though.
George could barely keep up as I darted over there, almost getting hit by a car in the process.
There was nobody in there but a fat, frumpy lady folding clothes. Okay, I’m being ruder than normal, but that’s all I remember of her, alright? I was highly stressed and about to have a breakdown. She barely had time to greet me before I yelled at her.
‘How long has this place been here?’
She clearly thought that it was such an interesting question, she was going to take her sweet ass time thinking about it. My old buddy the migraine kept me company, lucky for me.
‘Ooh, I’d say about a year, maybe? Not so sure on the exact date.’
My heart plummeted as I heard her voice. Just my luck, she was Canadian. Nothing against them, but I needed a local right now.
‘What was it before?’
‘I’m not sure-’
‘Was it a Baskin-Robbins?’
She shrugged apologetically.
‘I only moved here about six months ago. I think there is a bakery on the next block. Maybe they sell ice cream,’ she suggested.
I almost laughed. Like I was some random fatso screaming at people for her next sugar fix.
‘Is there anyone here who’ll know?’
‘Ched might,’ she said. Then didn’t move an inch.
I was gonna tear my hair or her throat out.
‘Can you ask him?’ I screeched.
Giving me a worried look, she backed away into the storeroom. I wouldn’t have really been surprised if she locked it and dialed 911, but she didn’t. She came out a minute later, still looking anxious.
‘He says he’s pretty sure it was a Baskin-Robbins.’
Finally, a confirmation of sorts. I turned to George and smiled at him.
‘See? I’m not making it up!’
He looked at the cowering woman in the corner and took pity on her.
‘We should probably go, Ann.’
Yep, that would probably be best.
‘Thanks!’ I said cheerfully as I waved and took my leave. I’m not sure what happened, but I heard a crash behind me and I’m fairly certain she locked the door as soon as I was out of the building.
I didn’t care. It was my first real proof that I didn’t make Tommy up. I mean, I knew I didn’t, anyway. I just wanted to prove to George that I didn’t.
Naturally, he didn’t share my enthusiasm.
‘You know it doesn’t prove anything, right? All it proves is that you’ve driven down this street.’
Has anyone ever repeated your own arguments back to you? No? Well, let me tell you. There’s only one thing you can do in that situation.
Defend yourself.
‘Why the hell do you think I made him up? I don’t even live around here. There is no reason for me to remember this street so vividly unless it held a special place in my heart.’
Ew, cue the sick bucket.
‘Unless something traumatic happened here,’ he said, full of impending doom.
‘What is with you and trauma? How much trauma do you think I’ve gone through and forgotten?’
‘Maybe it’s to do with your mom.’
‘Oh my God, leave it alone. This is nothing to do with my mom. I met Tommy here every week until he died. End of story.’
I gritted my teeth, hoping he’d shut up about it and I could drive home in peace.
‘But he didn’t die because he didn’t exist,’ he muttered.
‘Really?’ I groaned. ‘Thanks for reminding me, I’d somehow forgotten.’
‘I didn’t mean it in that way,’ he sighed, rolling his eyes. ‘I meant, this guy lied to you, Ann. Do you not want to know who he is?’
You know, until that moment, I’d not actually thought of it in that way. It’s not that Tommy the cop didn’t exist, it’s that he lied to me. Suddenly, I was hurt. He’d come into my life and offered me hope when no one else had, and then he’d walked out and faked his death. Just like that.
That drive home was one of the hardest drives of my life. I’d mourned him. I’d cried because I’d been responsible for his death. I wasn’t even allowed at the funeral, you know? He meant something to me.
Still does.
And apparently, he’s nothing but a lie.
I almost wished I had made him up.
‘Do you know where the funeral was supposed to be?’ George asked.
‘Does it matter?’ I countered. ‘It didn’t happen.’
‘Everything matters. It’s evidence.’
He was ri
ght, of course. Only pissed me off more.
‘No, I don’t. Some small church, I think.’
‘But he died in the line of duty. Surely there’d be a procession of some kind? What were the other funerals like?’
‘What other funerals?’
‘You know, the other cops who died that night?’
Oh, he was really testing me now.
‘I don’t know. I didn’t go to them, either.’
‘Do you know their names?’
Julie Moreno and Tariq Sharif. Thanks go to Rathers for those. I’d add them to the other swirl of names that pass me by every moment there’s a crack in my walls.
‘Why?’
‘Because we can find out when their funerals were, and what they were like. Maybe there’ll be photos of that night. Do you definitely remember seeing Tommy there?’
‘I don’t know,’ I answered straight away.
‘So, think about it. Take your time.’
‘I don’t want to. It’s in the past.’
‘So? You think just because it’s in the past it’s over?’
Yeah, pretty much. It’s sad, I cried, boo hoo, done. Let’s move on.
‘Ann!’
‘What?’ I snapped, turning the wheel a little harder than I needed to. Naturally, it only hurt me.
‘You can’t keep running away from anything you don’t like. You have to face up to this sooner or later.’
Or the secret third option, never. That was a good one.
‘I choose later.’
‘Ann!’
‘Look, like you said: it’s in the past. Whoever he was, he’s gone, so it doesn’t matter. Maybe he wasn’t a cop. Maybe he was some guy who wanted to help me and he did,’ I said vaguely.
‘I thought you said his wife sent you a letter,’ George prodded.
Man, he just kept on coming.
‘Maybe it was him, as a goodbye.’
‘You said she was threatening-’
‘George!’
My turn to yell a name. It was fun, I could see why he was doing it.
‘Ann, you need to start facing up to things,’ he warned.
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Your mom, Tommy. It’s all coming back.’