by Annie Bruce
“I’m not sure where to start.” The pain in her voice resonated and worked to undermine the composure she had just fought to regain. It wasn’t unusual for victims to freeze up after a traumatic event.
“I’ll just ask a few questions then.” He paused long enough to give her time to recover her composure yet again but not long enough for her to second guess herself.
“When did you first notice the man at the window?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Was it right before you called me?”
“That’s when I saw him in person.”
He kept his facial expression neutral.
“What do you mean in person? Have you been receiving threatening phone calls?”
“No, nothing like that. There was a suspicious car in the neighborhood earlier but I couldn’t see who was in it.” She licked her lips. “The windows were tinted.”
He nodded in understanding.
“But I did get part of the license plate.”
He looked up just as she bolted off the couch and headed towards the kitchen, stopping suddenly at the entryway.
He quickly closed the distance between them. “Were you in here when you saw the car?”
“Yes, the car was parked just beyond where the man was standing.” Her voice struggled with the words as she pointed.
His eyes followed the direction of her extended arm. The full-length windows that met his gaze allowed a panoramic view of the winding street and the expanse of Maggie’s front and side yard.
“What a beautiful view.”
“Yes.” Fear still punctuated her voice as she stood frozen in the doorway, arms folded across her chest.
“Maggie,” he spoke quietly, gently.
“Maggie!” A little stronger now. Turning away from the windows her eyes met his as she lowered her arms to her side.
“Maggie, you can’t let this man rob you of your life.”
More tears. “I know,” the words conflicted with her tone of resignation.
Then suddenly, a look of fierce determination covered her face as she straightened and walked boldly into the kitchen.
Maggie mustered all the courage she could find and crossed the tiled floor towards the kitchen counter where the paper with the partial plate number lay. She hadn’t felt this emotional since her divorce. Biting down on her lip she tasted blood, the pain catalyzing her resolve. She was a survivor if nothing else. Now she would have to be a fighter.
Quickly turning to hand the detective the paper before she lost her nerve, she found herself dangerously close to his strong solid chest. Pulling herself back she lost her footing and would have fallen if he hadn’t reached out to steady her. She felt his strength and liked its effect on her. It had been a long time since someone had steadied her.
Their eyes met briefly but long enough for her to know that as long as he was here she’d be okay.
He took the paper from her hand, their fingers touched, and an electrifying sensation arced between them. Both struggled to put the obvious attraction aside.
“This is good, Maggie.” His voice broke through the awkwardness. “This is very good.”
His praise elated her, more than it probably should but right now it helped bolster her from the near emotional paralysis that was teetering back and forth in her mind.
“I have to go call this in from my vehicle.”
She straightened in response as her fear threatened to return.
“I won’t be far away. Why don’t you check on your sons and I’ll ring the door bell when I come back. Lock everything up behind me.”
Morris left Maggie standing in her kitchen. He had to. As fear washed over her beautiful features he was tempted to stay and comfort her, something that was too dangerous for him to explore right now. Pausing outside he waited for the sound of dead bolts locking in place before proceeding.
Typing the license plate information into the laptop mounted in his vehicle he didn’t have to wait for long before a string of data popped up. He further refined the list to darker colored vehicles which reduced it down to one page.
With the results printed he headed back towards the house. Stepping onto Maggie’s walkway he noticed her neighbors standing in their front entrances or peering outside their windows, bringing the unwanted attention he’d hoped to avoid.
His eyes scoured the neighborhood looking for houses with any advantage to observe Maggie’s house. One in particular stood out. Its large front windows were similar to the ones on Maggie’s but positioned in such a way that the occupant would have to be blind to miss any of the activities in the neighborhood. A sudden movement caught his attention and the slightly bent figure moved away from the window.
Walking slowly towards the house he felt he was being watched. He rang the doorbell and waited. No answer. He rang again. Nothing. He gave the door a hard knock on its solid exterior. The sound of movement on the other side told him he was being ignored. He knocked again.
“Go away or I’m gonna call the police.” The scratchy voice of an older woman berated him through the thickness of the door.
“Excuse me ma’am, I am the police.”
“How do I know that! You don’t look like the police.”
“I can show you my badge, ma’am.” He didn’t mind the woman’s stubbornness. She was taking all the necessary precautions.
“You could have bought that in a store somewhere for all I know.”
She was definitely paying attention to details.
Morris reached for his cell phone and called Maggie. Maybe she could convince her elderly neighbor to talk to him.
In less than a minute he heard the telephone ring. Another minute then the door was opened, although cautiously. A worried and weathered face peered around its edge.
“Maggie says you’re a detective.”
“Yes, ma’am, I am.”
“I still want to see your badge.”
“Of course, ma’am.” He watched her closely as he extended his credentials for her review.
She took her time in scrutinizing the badge that he held close enough for her to see but not close enough to be caught in a suddenly slammed door – a lesson he learned the hard way, years ago, when a particularly difficult witness slammed the door on his wrist and broke it in three places. There were days it still hurt. Just thinking about it made it hurt.
“If Maggie says its okay, I guess I can talk to you.”
As the door closed he heard the safety chain slide off its track. A minute or so passed before the door reopened.
“Mrs. Rivers?” He wanted to establish a rapport before entering the house. That’s if she let him in. She didn’t.
“Yes, but I guess Maggie told you that, didn’t she?”
“Yes, ma’am she did.”
“Well, what can I do for you, young man. I don’t have all day.”
He suspected that wasn’t quite true. She was establishing who was in control.
“I’m Detective Morris, and –”
“Yes, Maggie told me.”
“– and I’d like to ask you a few questions about this morning.”
“You mean the strange car in the neighborhood?” Terseness seemed to be her trademark.
“Yes, ma’am, that would be it. Did you see the vehicle?”
“Of course I did. I always notice what doesn’t belong.”
He was sure that she did.
“Can you describe the car?” His notebook out and pen ready, he expected a complete description.
“Yes, of course I can! It was one of those fancy import jobs. If you ask me people should be buying American made cars. I always do. Not good for this country for everybody to be buying all that overseas stuff.”
“Excuse me ma’am, back to the car.” Politics was the last thing on his mind right now. “Can you tell me what color it was?”
“Of course I can young man, weren’t you listening to me?” She wanted to do this her way and only her way. He had a feeling a trip to
the dentist would be less painful.
“Yes, ma’am, go on.”
“Besides, young man, don’t you just want to know the license number instead?”
“So, you have the number?” He didn’t know if he should hug or throttle her.
She made a face. “Of course I do. Don’t they teach you anything at that detective school you went to!”
Abruptly shutting the door she left him standing on her front porch dumbfounded. Knowing he wouldn’t be invited inside his only option seemed to be waiting.
As if on cue the front door reopened and Mrs. Rivers presented him with a written log of the coming and goings in the neighborhood. It was a wealth of information and Morris was truly impressed.
“Thank You.”
“Well, what are you waiting for!” She made a gesture that was as impatient as her tone, reminding him of his sixth grade math teacher. Neither of them were patient and both were intimidating.
He looked over the log and scanned the pages for today’s date. Three entries were listed. The first referenced the suspicious car with the license plate noted. He quickly checked it against his list and found an entry that matched.
Then he saw the name that the car was registered to.
He made some notes and handed the pages back to her.
“Mrs. Rivers you’ve been very helpful. I was wondering if you can do another thing for me?”
“Of course, young man. The police need all the help they can get.”
He decided she meant that in the nicest way possible.
“Can you keep these logs until I can get someone over here to make copies?”
“I always keep my logs!” Mrs. Rivers was indignant that he’d suggest otherwise. “I have them as far back as 1990 when I first moved here. Been doing it that long.”
He didn’t doubt it for a moment.
“Well, ma’am, again, you’ve been very helpful and I really appreciate everything you’ve done to help the police today.” Morris turned to go. “And, I’m sure Maggie does too.”
“Nice young lady. Needs to be married, though, what with two young boys and all.” Mrs. Rivers shook her head, a disapproving look on her face.
He was left wondering what and all meant but left it alone, anxious to get back to Maggie. He even felt his heart race – just a little. In part from excitement at being near her and in part from apprehension at sharing his discovery with her – something he couldn’t avoid. Not now.
Chapter 6
Maggie watched from the bedroom window as Detective Morris crossed the street, a look of concern on his face. Of course Mrs. Rivers – or Mrs. Busy Body as everyone in the neighborhood called her – would have information on the suspicious car and anything else that happened in the area.
Her older neighbor tended to make everyone feel less than adequate with her admonishing ways. Still, Maggie was always taught to respect her elders, something she passed onto her children.
Stifling her laughter when Mrs. Rivers shut the front door and disappeared leaving a confused Detective Morris standing on her front porch, she knew that this was just the way the older woman did business. As if on cue, the door reopened and Mrs. Rivers produced her log. Everyone knew she kept a log of what was happening in the neighborhood. Many parents were glad that she did. Many teenagers were not.
When he first called her about her nosy neighbor, she chastised herself for not thinking of it herself, but it also showed her that he was a thorough investigator. She was beginning to relax and feel safe, a feeling that she welcomed because she didn’t like being afraid in her own home. She rushed downstairs to let him back in.
“Did she see the car?”
“Yes, she was a good source of information.”
“And?”
“Is there a place where we can talk?”
“Oh, of course.” She felt a sea of embarrassment wash over her. “Where are my manners! Please come in.”
Returning to her earlier seat she gestured for him to do the same.
Their eyes met and her stomach tightened.
“What’s wrong?” The words were out before she could stop them. She didn’t really want to know. But then again, she did. She needed to know.
“Maggie, tell me more about Owen.”
“What do you mean?” She paused to take a deep breath. “He’s dead.”
“Did you see the body?”
“No, I didn’t know about his death until I heard it on the news this morning.” Her words rushed out and then she stopped herself as dread replaced fear. “Why do you ask?”
“Maggie the car that Mrs. River’s saw had plates registered to Owen Cassidy.”
“I don’t understand,” and she didn’t. She searched her mind for a possible answer, her brows furrowing in the process.
“Maybe somebody stole it.”
He stayed quiet. Too quiet.
“Maybe it’s the person Owen thought was stealing from him,” eager to find an answer that was the least painful to accept.
“Do you know who that was?”
“No, we never got that far. We thought we were on the verge of finding out and then– ” her voice cracked with emotion, “–Owen was killed.”
“But you never saw the body.”
“No, I already told you that.” Her voice raised just a little, tension punctuating her words as she realized she was being interrogated. She locked eyes with the lawman sitting across from her and tried to read his expression and body language but he remained neutral. He would, of course, that’s what he was trained to do.
“Please tell me what’s going on.”
Maggie stood for emphasis, any feelings of safety and security fading fast.
“I’m not sure.” His words gave an unexpected jolt to her senses.
“What do you mean you’re not sure!”
She heard herself scream out the words through a sea of anger.
Sinking back into the oversized couch for a comfort she desperately needed, she held back tears of frustration. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.” she said not wanting to alienate the one person who she needed right now.
“Obviously something’s wrong or you wouldn’t be asking me all these questions.”
Had she known this was how her day would turn out she would have pulled the covers over her head and stayed in bed. In less than twenty-four hours her world had been turned completely upside down.
“Where’s the restroom?”
Was he really asking that question? At a time like this!
“To your left.” She pointed towards a room off the entryway, her tone peppered with a sense of loss.
He paused in the doorway. “We can stop for awhile, if you like.”
Wiping the tears from her eyes she sat up straight and looked him square in the eye.
“No, I’m fine. I want to get to the bottom of this – and fast!”
The washroom was decorated in a floral pattern that was subtle and striking just like its owner. Morris reflected on the past few minutes and how Maggie reacted to his questions.
When he returned she was pacing the floor.
“Shall we sit or stand?” He’d follow her lead.
“You can sit if you like,” nibbling on her thumb as she said the words.
“Okay, then.” He retook his seat, making sure he kept her pacing figure in view. “What made Mr. Cassidy suspicious in the first place?”
Pausing to look his way she began to mouth a response but words didn’t follow.
“What was the one thing that made him start to investigate those letters?” He clarified.
“He didn’t say.” Slumping back into her seat a heavy sigh escaped her lips. “He didn’t want me to be influenced by his opinion.”
Clearly it was time to investigate those now running the company.
“Okay, Maggie.” He stood, towering over her. “I’m going back to the station and do some follow-up work”
Jolting from her seat she lost her balance. Instinct
ively, he reached out and latched onto her upper arms to steady her. She fell against him He could feel her heart beat as the smell of her wafted over him causing his own heart to keep pace with hers. He hated to leave her but he had to. Right now it was his job to leave her.
“Is there anyone you can call?” A gentleness he hadn’t felt in a long time reached out to her. He wanted to ask if there was a Mr. Faraday, but that would be too obvious.
“No it’s just me and my boys.” Her voice started to break. Then just as quickly she took a deep breath and straightened. “We’ll be fine.”
“I’ll send a patrol car around to keep an eye on the neighborhood.” She didn’t relax at his effort to reassure her. “Besides, you always have Mrs. Rivers,” gesturing towards the house across the street.
Her eyes followed to see Mrs. Rivers standing guard by her front window.
“I suppose so.” A hint of defeat still resonated in her voice as she sat down, the sofa almost swallowing her up. He wanted desperately to pull her into his arms and keep her safe from the world, a feeling that took him by surprise. He never thought that he’d feel this way again about anybody, and now that he did it would have to wait.
“It’s going to be okay.” He held her gaze willing her to believe him.
“You have my cell and office number. You’ll be able to reach me any time - day or night.”
A smile spread across her face and her eyes sparkled, then suddenly it was gone, sparkle and all. “Won’t your wife be upset?”
He felt a chuckle well up inside. “I’m not married.” Anymore, he added to himself. It was too soon to share that part of his past.
“Oh.”
He wasn’t sure if that was relief or concern in her tone.
Maggie watched as her modern day knight turned towards her front door, unsettled by what she was feeling. Relieved she wouldn’t be interrupting a married man’s life, a little voice told her there was more to her feeling of relief than she cared to admit.
He turned back looking directly at her, forcing eye contact. She blushed as if he could read her thoughts. “Make sure you lock the door after me. And make sure you don’t let anybody, and I mean anybody, in the house but me - or people you can really trust.”