by Cathie Linz
“I’ll tell you when you get here.”
“But…”
“I’m your mother and I’m saying that I need you.” Her mom’s agitation was growing by the second. “And you’re saying you can’t be bothered?”
“I didn’t say that,” Marissa protested.
“Then stop talking and get over here. It’s an emergency.”
Her mom was starting to freak Marissa out. “Should you call 911?”
“Not that kind of emergency,” her mom said. “Just get over here.” She hung up.
Marissa hoped her parents were okay and that this wasn’t some lame attempt to set her and Connor up. He had his hands full investigating the vandalism and theft. He needed to clear Jose’s name, not deal with Marissa’s crazy family. She tried calling him on his cell but it went to voice mail.
She decided against leaving a message and grabbed her car keys. It looked like she and her rust bucket VW were heading over to her childhood home on Tranquility Lane.
* * *
Connor sized up Todd Newman. The nineteen-year-old was nervously shifting from one foot to the other. He looked like the defensive lineman that he’d been in high school, from his buzz cut to his thick neck to his GO EAGLES tattoo.
“We have reason to believe that you were the one behind the vandalism and theft at the Corn Festival last night. I get it. You were pissed that your girlfriend didn’t get the poetry prize she deserved. Again, I get that. But I’ve got to tell you that posting that picture of you with the spray paint wasn’t a good move.”
“How do you know about that?” Todd’s nervousness increased.
“Here’s the deal, Todd. If you confess now and give me the money box we can keep this as a misdemeanor offense instead of something a lot more serious like a felony robbery. It’s your choice.”
“No one saw me.”
“Are you sure about that? We have surveillance camera footage.” There was a security camera on the bank across from the park. Connor never said that Todd was on the footage or where the cameras were.
He didn’t have to.
Todd swore and then crumbled. “Don’t tell my parents.”
“If you give me the money box, it will go better for you.”
“I didn’t spend any of the cash,” Todd said. “Not a penny.”
“Good. Where did you stash it?”
“In the trunk of my car. I was gonna move it.”
“Show me.”
Todd did.
“You’re going to have to come down to the station,” Connor said before reading him his rights.
“Don’t ever drink vodka and energy drinks together,” Todd said. “It makes you do crazy shit.”
“Yes, it does.”
An hour later, Connor had processed Todd. He’d called Jose and Red Fred to let them know they were cleared of this offense and warned them about the dangers of trespassing on city property after hours. “We’ll talk more tomorrow,” he told each of them.
“Tell Marissa I’m sorry I took her lunch from the library that one time,” Red Fred said. “Did you know she eats avocado and banana sandwiches? That’s just weird. But I was so hungry…I only did it the one time.”
“Make sure you don’t do it again,” Connor said in his best cop voice while writing a note to himself to find help for the food situation with Red Fred and his mom.
“Don’t forget to tell Marissa,” Red Fred said.
“I won’t.”
Connor barely hung up the phone when his office door flew open and Marissa stood there in shorts and a sexy tank top. She was breathing hard, making her breasts rise and fall in a way he found irresistible.
“I need to report a crime!” she gasped.
Chapter Nineteen
“What happened?” Connor almost leapt over his desk in his hurry to get to her side. “Did someone hurt you?”
“It’s my parents.”
Connor frowned. “Someone threatened your parents?”
“I did. And then I locked them in a room in their house and told them to talk to each other.”
“That doesn’t sound like a crime to me.” Connor closed the door on his nosy staff and guided Marissa to the chair in front of his desk.
“My dad was threatening to call 911 because I took away his tech toys. His iPad and iPhone. I made sure there was no landline in the room and neither had their cell phones. It’s not like I plan to lock them up there for days.”
“How long do you plan on locking them up?”
“A couple of hours.”
“What if they need to use the bathroom?”
“There’s one attached. The bedroom used to be my sister’s. My parents put a lock on the outside of the door when she was thirteen and started sneaking out when she was grounded. The lock was still there and I used it.”
“Okay, just calm down and catch your breath.”
“I shouldn’t be bothering you with this,” she said. “I know you’re busy working on the vandalism case.”
“We solved it.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later. Let’s get back to your parents. What made you…” He paused, searching for the right word.
“Go off the deep end?”
He nodded.
“It was them,” Marissa said. “They were driving me crazy. My mom called and demanded I drop everything and go over there. She said it was an emergency. So I get there and find the two of them bickering. I tried to reason with them but they didn’t want any part of it. They refused to listen to me. So I sort of conned them into going upstairs with me to my sister’s room. That’s where I confronted them.” She drew in a deep breath. “I’m telling you, you’re lucky your parents live in Chicago.”
He squatted in front of her and reached around her to rub her back reassuringly. “I know.”
“At first I thought maybe they were trying to con me into meeting you the way your mom and grandmother did. I called you to warn you but it went to voice mail.”
“I haven’t had time to check my messages,” Connor said.
“That’s okay. I shouldn’t be bothering you with this. It’s just going to increase the talk about us.”
“Who cares?” He looked over to glare at Ruby Mae, who was peeking through the open blinds on the glass partition window into his office.
“I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me,” Marissa said.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “What about your parents?”
“I’m tired of worrying about them,” she said. “I mean, I love them but they were driving me crazy.”
“How long ago did all this happen?”
She checked her watch. “About two hours ago. I went right home from their house but then I started thinking about it and panicked and came here. I wouldn’t put it past them to write out a sign reading CALL POLICE and hold it up to the window or something. The windows in the room have been painted shut for a few years now so I knew they couldn’t scream or anything. What if there’s a fire?” She grabbed hold of Connor’s arm. “It’s dangerous to leave them in there. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m a terrible daughter.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am. I’ve made a mess of things. Again.”
“What do you mean, again? You’ve locked up your parents before?”
“No. I meant with relationships.”
“I don’t know.” He smoothed her hair away from her face. “I think our relationship is pretty damn awesome.”
“Do we have a relationship?”
“Yeah, I think we do. And I want to be more than just your rebound guy.”
“You do?”
He nodded.
Marissa realized Connor was already more than her rebound guy. When in trouble, seek shelter. When she’d panicked about her parents, she’d sought him out. Connor, not Jess or Deb. He was the one she’d come to.
She didn’t even realize that she had her cell phone clutch
ed in her hand until she felt it vibrate. The text message read:
urgent, call me now
“It’s my sister,” Marissa said.
“Go ahead.” Connor stood and took a few steps back to prop his hip on his desk.
Marissa called her.
“I just walked in on Mom and Dad locked in my old bedroom.” Jess sounded freaked out.
“Were they fighting?”
“No, they were half naked on my old bed and doing the nasty.”
“What?”
“I’m telling you, they were about to have S-E-X.”
“Why are you spelling it?” Marissa said. “You’re usually liberal about that subject.”
“Not when our parents are doing it. What did you say to them?”
“I locked them in the room and told them to be nice and talk to each other. I told Dad to pretend Mom was the Egyptian queen Nefertiti. I told Mom to pretend he was Jon Bon Jovi.”
“What did they say?”
“They both claimed they didn’t have that much imagination.”
“Clearly they do have that much imagination,” Jess said. “I may be traumatized for life by what I saw.”
“So they weren’t fighting? They were getting along okay?”
“Hello,” Jess said. “What part of they’re having sex did you not understand? Of course they were getting along. Enough about that. I need to talk to you.”
“You are talking to me.”
“No, I mean face to face. Are you home?”
“No, I’m at the police station.”
“What did you do?” Jess said. “Crash another town event?”
“No.”
“So the rumors about you and Hottie Sheriff are true. Are you with him right now?”
“Yes, but I’m leaving. He has work to do.”
Marissa saw Connor raise an eyebrow at her comment.
“Meet me at your place in fifteen minutes,” Jess said before disconnecting.
“Everything okay?” Connor said.
Marissa nodded. “My sister…uh…went to the house and unlocked the door so my parents are free now.”
“And they’re okay?”
Marissa nodded again.
“Good,” Connor said. “How about I stop at your place after work and fill you in about the vandalism case? I’ve still got a few things to tie up here yet.”
“Sure. That sounds fine.” She quickly stood. “I’ll see you later then.”
The second Marissa opened the door and stepped out of the office, the conversations stopped and all eyes turned to her. She wished she could think of some brilliant and sassy comment like the kind Jess would come up with, but her mind went blank. Instead she kept her head held high and walked out of the police station. Okay, so she may have walked at a fast-almost-jogging pace but she had to get to her apartment to meet her sister.
Jess arrived at the same time Marissa did. “What did you want to talk about?” Marissa asked as she let her in.
“You.” Jess opened the fridge and grabbed two Vitamin Waters. She opened one her for herself and handed the other to Marissa. “Ever since you told me about how you can’t dance, it’s been bugging me.”
“Bugging you?”
“Yeah. So I’ve been trying to figure it out. First off, let me say that it wasn’t my fault,” Jess said.
“What wasn’t?”
“You not being able to dance.”
“I never said it was your fault.” Marissa sat on the couch and Jess joined her there. Jess kicked off her sequined flip-flops and curled one leg beneath her in her customary pose. Marissa kicked off her own sandals and made herself comfortable. “I actually talked to my friend Deb about it a few weeks ago. She said my dancing phobia sounds like people who have the naked dream.”
“Like you dreaming about Connor being naked?” Jess said.
“No, like nightmares where you’re out in public and you suddenly realize you’re naked. But it’s not really about being naked. It’s about a fear of exposing your worst weakness—something you’re ashamed of. She thought my fear of dancing could be the same thing.”
“Hey, analyzing you is my job, not hers,” Jess said. “Is she a therapist or psychologist?”
“She’s a self-proclaimed self-help book junkie.”
“Yeah, well sometimes a penis is just a penis, you know?” Jess took a deep breath. “Okay, here’s what I think happened. I don’t remember any of this but apparently when I was three, Mom entered me in one of those beauty pageants for little kids. Like the kind you see in the cable TV show Toddlers and Tiaras. Anyway, she wanted to enter you, too, in the section for your age group of eight-year-olds. I was going to do a dance routine but you were so paranoid at the thought of dancing onstage in front of an audience that you freaked and threw a temper tantrum and refused to go.”
“That’s it? Why didn’t Mom remember this?”
“Are you kidding me?” Jess said. “Mom can’t even remember where she parked the car in the Kroger parking lot.”
“What about pictures?”
“Of you throwing your tantrum?”
“No, of you doing your toddler tiara thing,” Marissa said.
“Apparently they were ruined a few years later when the hot water heater broke and flooded the basement, where Mom stored extra photos.”
“If Mom didn’t remember and there are no photos then how do you know all this?”
“Daddy told me.”
“When you caught him and Mom today?” Marissa said.
“No. Yuck.” Jess made a face and hit Marissa with a small throw pillow that read “Chocolate Is a Vegetable.” “I talked to him last night about it.”
“Is he a reliable source?” Marissa had to ask.
“You mean, he may have made it all up to make you feel better?” Jess paused a moment to consider it. “I suppose he might have but that’s not really like him. He’d just say he doesn’t know and talk about how ancient Egyptians danced.”
“You’re right.” Marissa took a sip of her drink as she contemplated this info. “So I’ve been traumatized all this time because I didn’t want to dance in front of a crowd as a kid. I was eight. I should remember that.”
“You must have blocked it from your memory. I mean, it was over twenty years ago.”
“What a wimp,” Marissa said.
“Hey, I was only three,” Jess said.
“Not you, me. I was sure there was some kind of big trauma.”
“I’m sure you thought it was big at the time.”
“I’m surprised Mom didn’t refer to it over the years,” Marissa said.
“The way Daddy told it, it was right after Mom’s mother died suddenly and she had a hard time coping with that.”
“I wonder if I thought somehow that my refusing to dance had something to do with Nana’s death. I barely remember her.”
“It’s not always the trauma dramas that cause trouble,” Jess said. “Sometimes it’s just the everyday fears that do it.”
“You’re sure you’re not making this up?”
Jess frowned at her. “Paranoid much?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be. I’m your sister. I’ve got your back. I want you to dance. Not this second maybe, and not in front of me at first. But soon. Now that you know the reason, you should be able to figure out the rest. Think about it. I know I did. And it made me realize that I want to do my graduate work in psychology. I want to figure out why people do the things they do. I think I’d be good at it, don’t you?”
Seeing the way that Jess was looking at her for approval, Marissa felt a sudden lump in her throat. “Yes, I do. You’ve always been a people person.”
“Thanks, sis.” Jess gave her a full-blown gigantic hug, which Marissa returned. Stepping away, Jess reached into her bag and handed her a CD. “I burned this for you to practice your dancing. It’s just an idea. If other songs hit you more, then try those. I just don’t want your fear to hold you back from anything,�
�� she said fiercely. “You’re so brave about so much stuff.”
“I am?” Marissa had no idea her sister felt that way about her.
“Sure. You didn’t go to college here despite the pressure from Mom and Dad. You followed your dream. Okay, so the marriage part didn’t work out as you’d planned. But you weren’t afraid to try. I stayed. I wasn’t as brave.”
“You’re brave in so many other ways,” Marissa said. “You’re willing to take risks and put yourself out there. You don’t apologize for being you.”
“Why should I?”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Marissa said. “And there’s no reason you should apologize…except maybe for pulling my hair all those times when we were kids.”
Jess grinned and reached out to give Marissa’s shoulder-length hair a gentle tug. “Old habits are hard to break.”
After her sister left, Marissa inserted the CD in her player. So she’d been afraid to dance because of a beauty pageant? No wonder she didn’t want to participate in the Rhubarb Queen rigmarole.
The first song on the CD was Florence and the Machine’s “Dog Days Are Over.” The sound of harps at the opening had Marissa tentatively putting her hands up over her head in a mimic of a ballerina. Tears came to her eyes. But she didn’t give up. Next came applause on the song so Marissa started hesitantly clapping.
When the music picked up, Marissa cupped her face with her hands, and she started turning her head. The next thing she knew, she was stomping her feet. But she was pretty much stomping in place and not bouncing around the room.
The music slowed, allowing her to breathe and think. That’s when she heard a voice in her head. “You dance like a dork. You look stupid.” And the sound of kids laughing at her. Was it Jess? She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on the flashback. No…it had come from the kids next door. A bunch of kids.
Marissa remembered now. She’d been dancing on the front porch. She didn’t know anyone was watching her. Jess was still just a baby and Marissa felt left out and wanted to be a ballerina. A family with loads of kids had lived next door and they’d seen her and all laughed
at her.
Maybe both Deb and Jess were right. Maybe Marissa felt ashamed at being laughed at, at being so bad at something that she never wanted to do it again. She didn’t even remember having a momentary ballerina dream but tons of little girls did.