by BJ Bourg
I ruffled her red hair and led the way down the sidewalk, stealing one last glance toward Kristen’s window before disappearing into my own apartment. Inside, Samantha stared wide-eyed at the simply furnished living room. “Where’s your TV?”
“I don’t have one.”
“We won’t get to watch scary movies together like we used to?”
“I’ll have to go out and buy a TV so we can watch something next time you come.” I walked toward Samantha’s room, stopped outside the door. “Close your eyes, Baby Girl.”
Samantha threw both hands up over her face, leaving her fingers open just wide enough to peek through. I noticed, but said nothing, steered her toward the door and flung it open. She gasped, immediately noticing the bear. She rushed forward and snatched it from the chair. “I love him! He’s so beautiful. I’m going to name him Honey Bear. Where’d you find him?”
“Cades Cove in Gatlinburg.”
“Where’s Cades Cove?”
“It’s far away in Tennessee, in the Smoky Mountains.”
Her little face scrunched up like it did when she was thinking. “You mean like the mountains me and Mom went to?”
“Yep, the exact same mountains.”
“Did we go to Cade’s Cove?”
I nodded. “Your mom said that’s where you saw the bear you wanted.”
Samantha held the bear I’d purchased at arms’ length, studied it. “This is not the same bear I saw, but I love it anyway!” She cradled it in her arms and looked up at me. “I like real mountains. Did you have to go there to work? Mommy said you have to go far away to schools a lot for work.”
I shook my head. “Nope. I made a special trip just for you.”
Samantha rushed toward me and I dropped to my knees to hug her. She clung tightly to my neck and when she finally pulled back, there were tears trailing from her green eyes. I brushed them away gently with my fingers.
“What’s wrong, Pumpkinseed?”
“I want you to come back home,” she said, her bottom lip quivering. “I miss you.”
I frowned. “Baby, I want to come home, too.”
Her face lit up. “You’re coming home?”
“No. I said I want to come home, but I can’t.”
“But, you’re a grownup...you can do whatever you want.”
I smiled at her innocence. “I wish it were that simple.”
“Mommy said you love your job more than you love us. She said that’s why you left us.”
“She told you that?” My blood pressure started to rise.
“No, I heard her talking to her friend on the phone.” Samantha wiped her face on her shoulder and walked to her desk. “Is this all for me?”
I nodded absently. “What did you mean that Mommy was talking to a friend on the phone?”
“What?” Samantha asked, not looking up from the pack of colored markers she was fighting to unwrap. Her mind had already moved onto the next subject and she was no longer interested in our conversation.
“You said Mommy was talking to a friend on the phone. Was it a man friend or a lady friend?”
“I don’t know.” Samantha flipped open a coloring book and began working on her next masterpiece.
I sank to the carpet near the doorway and leaned against the wall. What if she had a boyfriend? What if her reasons for leaving were total bullshit? I started to ask another question, but the phone rang from the kitchen. I scrambled to my feet and reached the phone by the fourth ring, snatched it from the receiver. It was Debbie and she wanted to know how Samantha was doing.
“She’s fine. She’s coloring.”
“Coloring?”
“Yeah, I got her a little desk for her room, along with some markers and coloring books.”
“Let me talk to her.”
I pulled the phone from my face, leaned into the hallway. “Sam, your mom wants to talk to you.”
“Mommy!” Samantha screeched. She ran into the kitchen, grabbed the phone. “Mommy, guess what? Daddy got me a great big bear! No, he went all the way to Smoky Cove in the Scatting-burg Mountains, real mountains like we went to, and he bought it for me!”
I watched as Samantha excitedly described the bear to Debbie, holding it up to the phone as though Debbie could see it. After they talked for several minutes, Samantha blew kisses into the receiver and held the phone out to me. “Mommy wants to talk to you.”
When I took the phone, Samantha made a dash for her bedroom.
“She sounds so happy,” Debbie said.
I thought I detected a hint of regret in her voice, and hoped she was second-guessing her decision to separate. Trying to sound nonchalant, I said, “Yeah, she seems to be having a good time.”
“Did you really drive all the way to Gatlinburg to get her a bear?”
“Yeah.”
“When did you do that?”
“Last week.”
“I didn’t know you took the week off.”
“I didn’t. I left Tuesday morning and was back by noon on Wednesday.”
There was a pause, and then Debbie said, “You must have been tired. Why would you do that? I mean, why did you do that?”
“When y’all came back from vacation last month, that black bear was all Samantha talked about. I wanted to surprise her.”
“I wish you would have come with us.”
I nodded, said nothing. Debbie had not been happy when I decided to leave my job as an instructor with the police academy and transfer back to detectives. She’d called my decision a selfish one and she gave me an ultimatum. “If you go back to being a detective,” she’d said, “I’ll leave you...for good!”
She’d threaten to leave because of my job several times over the years, and even disappeared for the evening once three years ago, but this time she made good on that promise. When I decided to stay home from our family vacation because of a murder case, she went to the mountains without me—took her mom and dad instead—and then kicked me out when she got back home.
“Are you still there?” Debbie asked.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“I think this is the first time since I’ve known you that you haven’t tried to justify your actions by using your, I have a responsibility to the people of this parish speech.”
“It took me a while, but I see your point. I now understand that family has to come before work.”
Debbie grunted. “That’ll be the day.”
“I’ve had a lot of time to think. My job means nothing if I can’t come home and share my stories with you and Samantha.” There was a long pause. When Debbie didn’t say anything, I decided to ask about her friend. “So, Samantha tells me you’ve been talking about me to your friend. Anyone I know?”
Debbie cleared her throat. When she spoke, her voice sounded different—like she did when she was trying to hide something. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sam mentioned you told someone I love my work more than I love y’all. Is that true?”
“I...I don’t know what she’s talking about. I need to go now.”
I started to object, but the phone went dead. I called her name a few times but when she didn’t answer, I let the receiver drop from my hand and sank to the ground. What if she does have a boyfriend? Maybe she’s wearing a new perfume for someone new. What if she really goes through with the divorce? The thought of never lying beside Debbie again, never falling asleep to her scent, never snuggling down to a movie between her and Samantha...it was all starting to become very real to me.
I lost track of time sitting there on the kitchen floor, legs outstretched, head leaning against the counter, eyes closed. At some point, a tiny hand tapped my shoulder and I looked up to see Samantha staring down at me. She clutched a piece of paper to her chest, a frown pulling the corners of her mouth down. “Daddy, are you hurt?”
I shook his head. “No, baby, I’m not hurt.”
“Well, what’s wrong?”
“I’m just a little tired.”
Samantha grabbed my hand. “Are you sad because I don’t live with you anymore?”
I forced a smile. “Yes, Pumpkin, I am, but everything will be okay. You can come here whenever you want and we can spend a lot of time together. When you’re out of school, you can even stay for a week if you want.”
She held up a paper drawing. “I colored this for you.”
I took the page and turned it over. There was a crayon-colored drawing of a man, a woman, and a little girl, with a house in the background. “Thank you so much. I’ll put this on the refrigerator where I can see it all the time.”
Samantha’s face beamed. “You can see it every time you get some food to eat.”
“Yep.”
“What are we eating for supper?”
Shit! I hadn’t thought about supper. I usually skipped that part of the evening because it reminded me of how empty the place was without Debbie and Samantha. I stood and opened the refrigerator. A pack of bologna, a tube of mustard, and a twelve pack of Coke. “I don’t guess you want what I have, do you?”
Samantha looked past me and shook her head from side to side. “That looks gross. Where’s all your food?”
“Why don’t we go to McDonald’s?”
“Yay! McDonald’s!” Samantha turned, rushed into her room, and returned clutching Honey Bear. Beaming with excitement, she asked, “Can we go in your cop car?”
“Sure.” I led her to my cruiser and belted her into the back seat. I drove to McDonald’s, where we ordered and ate our food in the crowded dining room. Kids were running around and playing in the toy area. We had to raise our voices to hear above the noise. As we ate, I couldn’t help but notice that every guy in the room had a woman with him. It made me very aware of my own situation and I caught myself wondering if Debbie, Samantha, and I would ever be a family again. After eating, we stopped at the store for some breakfast food and a gallon of milk, and then headed back to my apartment.
Kristen’s lights were off when we pulled into my parking spot, so I cautioned Samantha to try to keep her voice down. We had only been gone an hour and it seemed early for her to be in bed.
“But why do I have to be quiet?” Samantha asked.
“It looks like Miss Kristen is sleeping.”
“Who’s Miss Kristen?”
“She’s my neighbor,” I explained. “And my house is really close to her house, so when we talk really loud she’ll be able to hear us and it might wake her up.”
“Okay, I’ll be quiet,” Samantha yelled, as she jumped out of my car and ran up the sidewalk.
I laughed and followed her, the grocery bags in one hand, and the keys to my apartment in the other. Once I’d put the grocery bags away and Samantha was ready for bed, I walked into her room to tuck her in.
“Daddy, can you tell me a story?”
I sat on the edge of her bed and leaned against the headboard. “What kind of story do you want me to tell? A ghost story, maybe?”
“Tell me about a bad man you put in jail. A real scary story!”
“Let’s see...what about the time I arrested a bad guy while your mom was with me and she was pregnant for you?”
“Oh, yes! Please!”
“Okay, one day your mom and I were driving to the movies and I saw a man I recognized. He had robbed somebody and there was a warrant out for his arrest. I called the dispatcher on my cell phone and asked her if—”
“Daddy, what’s a warrant?”
“A warrant is an order signed by a judge telling the police to arrest a person for committing—”
“What’s a judge again?”
I smiled. “Would you rather it if I told you the story about how I met your mom?”
Samantha’s eyes lit up. “Yes, tell me that one!”
“It was eight years before you were born. I was working the evening shift as a brand new patrol cop and a lady, your mom, called the Sheriff’s Office because someone broke into her car. The dispatcher called me to go handle the complaint and process the car.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Well, it means that we go there and look for evidence. We search for fingerprints—”
Suddenly, my cell phone screamed from the living room—it was my work phone. I sat stunned for a second, wondering if the victim had died. Telling Samantha to sit tight, I reluctantly went to the living room and flipped open my phone. It was Dawn. “Please tell me you’ve got good news.”
“God, I wish I could. I just got a call from dispatch. About thirty minutes ago someone contacted the sheriff’s office to report that their neighbor’s house was on fire in Lakeview Court.”
I scowled. “Tell them to call the fire department. If they suspect arson, call out the next detective. We’re off call.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“The fire department responded and put out the fire.” I heard Dawn take a deep breath and exhale. “They found something strange when they went inside.”
“What’s that?”
“It looked like three people lived in the house...a man, a woman, and a baby. The man and woman are nowhere to be found.”
“What’s so strange about that? Maybe they’re on vacation or went out to dinner.”
“There’re only two cars registered to the couple—and both are in the garage.”
“That’s still not strange. Maybe they went to the casino with another couple and the other couple drove. Maybe they took a—”
“The fire was set under the baby’s crib and the fire department is saying arson.”
“What? They burned a baby alive?”
“The firemen are sifting through the ashes right now searching for the little body.”
CHAPTER 6
“Daddy, why do I have to leave?” Samantha asked from the back seat.
“I have to go to work, Pumpkin.” I glanced in the rearview mirror at my daughter’s tiny, innocent face. She sat staring out into the night, her arms wrapped around Honey Bear.
“Will I be able to go back to your house again?”
“Absolutely. As soon as I wrap up this case you can come back.”
“Will you finish it tonight?”
“Maybe not tonight, but I should be finished by next weekend. You can come over then.”
Samantha smiled, leaned her head against Honey Bear’s overstuffed belly, and closed her eyes. She was asleep in an instant and the remainder of the fifteen-minute ride was made in silence, with me wondering what waited for us at the fire scene. I’d never heard of a baby being burned alive and I was betting no one else in the parish had either. I could already feel the sheriff breathing down my neck wanting the case solved and the person responsible locked up.
When I pulled into the driveway of Debbie’s house—our house—the door burst open and Debbie stormed outside, wrapped in a thin robe. Her hair seemed to be on fire against the white robe, and her face was just as red.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this shit to your own daughter!” Debbie yelled before she even reached the Crown Vic.
“Come on, Deb,” I protested, stepping out of the car. “You don’t have to say stuff like that in front of Sam.”
Samantha jerked awake in the back seat, rubbed her eyes in confusion. She looked out the window and squinted. “Is that Mommy?”
“Yeah, Pumpkin,” I began, “you’re—”
“Come on, Samantha!” Debbie wrenched the back door open—nearly taking it off its hinges—and gathered up Samantha’s belongings. She then pulled Samantha by the arm and ushered our frightened daughter toward the house. When Samantha was inside, Debbie returned and shoved a thin finger in my face. “You asshole! It’s one thing for you to choose your job over me, but when you start doing it to my daughter, that’s where I draw the line! All she talked about this week was spending the weekend with you, and you treat her like this?”
“It’s not like I planned this. Someone set fire to a baby. This is bad, Debbie...r
eally bad!”
“You’re not even on call, so why you? Why’s it always you who has to be the hero?”
I scowled. “You know I’m no hero. I’m just doing my job.”
“I hope your job keeps you warm at night, because this is the last straw. There’s no going back. I’m so done with you. I’m sick of coming in second place every damn time the phone rings.”
“Wait a minute. I thought you said this was about Samantha. How’d it become about you all of a sudden?”
Debbie stepped forward, slapped me square in the face. It was a decent slap—made my left ear ring—and it was so swift I never saw it coming. I balled my fists, shoved them in my pockets. I didn’t believe in hitting a woman under any circumstance, but I also didn’t believe in being a punching bag. A thought suddenly formed in my mind and sickened me. If she could get angry enough to hit me, what would keep her from doing the same thing to Samantha? “That’d better be the last time you ever hit me,” I said through clenched teeth. “And you’d better never touch Sam in that way.”
She stepped closer, her face inches from mine. “Or what? You gonna hit me back? Huh? Come on...do it!”
She spat the last words and saliva speckled my face. As calmly as I could, I wiped my face with the front of my shirt, said, “No, I’m not going to hit you back, but if you do it again, I’ll arrest you for domestic abuse battery.”
This brought a wicked laugh from Debbie. “I’d like to see you try.” With that, she turned on her heel and stormed toward the house.
I hesitated, thought about calling after her, but decided against it. I knew there was no reasoning with her when she was angry, so I didn’t even bother. I slipped into my car and drove off. Shaking the image of Samantha’s sad face from my thoughts and momentarily stifling my anger toward Debbie, I flipped open my phone and called Dawn. She answered on the first ring.
“Where are you?” she asked.
As I explained, I turned off of my old street and activated my blue lights. When I asked about Mrs. Doe, Dawn said she’d called the hospital but the duty nurse said there hadn’t been a change in her condition. The nurse promised to call her if our victim woke up.