She dropped her head to her chest.
Mark nudged up her chin. “What happened?”
“I grabbed the only thing I could. A bottle of liquor. I hit him with it. But it didn’t break, and he kept coming. He knocked me against the bar and continued to choke me, and then he was gone.” Ashlyn shook her head. “I don’t know if I blacked out, but when I felt his grip release, I struggled to my feet and saw him running out the rear exit. Maybe he assumed I was dead…” Tears streamed down her face again. “I ran after him and I…I saw him run in front of the train, but I closed my eyes, knowing what would happen. Then not knowing what to do, I panicked. I grabbed my stuff and got out of there as fast as I could.”
Mark gazed into her eyes, realizing she’d told him the entire truth.
“Could my hitting him have caused that—caused him to run like that?” she choked out.
“You had every right to defend yourself, Ashlyn. But you said he kept coming, so obviously you didn’t hit him hard enough.” Mark pressed his hand against her cheek. “Where’s the tape? It’ll obviously clear you.”
She sucked in a deep breath and whooshed it out. Standing up on obviously wobbly legs, she trudged over to her purse. “I have an old VCR player upstairs.”
Mark stood. “Let’s go.”
He followed Ashlyn to her bedroom, admiring that she’d decorated it in different shades of cream and mauve. An antique-looking bed with an eyelet coverlet was the focal point of her master bedroom. His mother would love it; she was such a romantic at heart.
Ashlyn handed him the tape, pointing to the VCR player on her dresser. “I always loved fairy tales. I still watch my old childhood animated Disney movies on VCR tapes. Beauty and the Beast and The Little Mermaid are my favorites.”
Mark smiled and pointed to himself. “Aladdin and Lion King.”
He walked over to the dresser and put it in the slot. He fast-forwarded the tape until he saw the scene. He turned to her sitting on the bed. “You shouldn’t watch this,” he offered.
She nodded, burying her head into one of the lace-covered throw pillows.
Mark hit play and then stood in front of the small TV, blocking her view in the event she got the urge to look. It was one thing being attacked. It was another to watch it. He’d seen women break into violent tears after viewing their attacks that had been caught on security cameras. One woman had actually been raped in an elevator in between floors. Sickos, he thought.
He continued to watch the video, seeing the events play out exactly as she’d described. But then he recoiled at an image she hadn’t described, a gasp escaping his throat.
The bed squeaked as Ashlyn must have jumped up, appearing at his side at the same time the recording showed Devin Burke darting out of the building, her following him a few seconds later. Mark stood there with his hand over his mouth, not believing what he’d seen.
“What was it?” Ashlyn shrieked. “What did you see?”
He turned to her, feeling the blood rush through his body as his heart pounded out a vicious rhythm. “You weren’t to blame, Ashlyn.” He ran his hands through his hair, willing his heart to slow so he could speak, wondering if he should tell her. The image he saw was clear; he hadn’t imagined it. Now he understood what had made Devin run in fear.
Ashlyn’s eyes grew round as she stared at him, waiting for an answer. “What did you see, Mark?”
There was no way to describe what he saw, but he knew whom he saw. “Your great-grandmother.”
This is the end of part one, The Depot, but read on for the second part of the story, which begins six months later in The Library.
PART TWO – THE LIBRARY
The Library
(Where Life Checks Out)
by
Carmen DeSousa
PROLOGUE
Wade inserted his key into the deadbolt of his front door the same time he did every night. Only this time, the door glided open as though some unseen force had invited him inside. The house was quiet. Too quiet. Usually he’d hear the sound of the TV, a kitchen timer alerting that dinner was ready, or the constant boom from the stereo upstairs. But this evening, tomblike silence greeted him.
She’d threatened to leave; he just hadn’t believed her. After all, she’d been grumbling that same nonsense for twenty-two years. A romantic getaway for two would straighten her out.
Their only child was going off to grad school in a few weeks. So for the first time in their marriage, they’d be childless. His life had changed the night she told him she was pregnant two weeks away from high school graduation, but it hadn’t stopped him from working his butt off to accomplish his dreams. Yeah, he had to work two jobs, go to night school, and function without sleep, but they’d made it. They had a beautiful house in Edenbury, Pennsylvania, two stylish vehicles in the driveway, and their daughter was heading off to Harvard.
And as soon as he finalized the contract he’d been working on for the last year, Wade could take Vanessa on as many getaways as she wanted. He’d cashed the first check on his way home. Just the first installment was more than they’d made their first ten years of marriage. That’d get her eyes twinkling again.
Burnt meatloaf singed his nostrils as he ventured into the kitchen in search of his wife. She’d killed their dinner again. His wife would get so busy typing that she’d forget everything around her.
He turned off the oven, but left the charcoaled mess inside. Last thing he needed was the new smoke detector he’d installed to go off, once again alerting the neighbors how often his wife nearly burnt down their house.
Wade emptied his pockets of his money clip, keys, and receipts onto the credenza by the stairway, as his wife had always requested, then started upstairs. “Vanessa honey,” he called as he trudged up the wooden steps, knowing she wouldn’t hear him, but he tried anyway. He gripped the banister, pulling himself forward. He was too tired to climb stairs before eating. But since she always wore her headphones when she worked, she wouldn’t hear if he screamed at the top of his range.
Tugging at his tie, he pushed open their bedroom door. Maybe they could have a quick romp before dinner, get a taste of what it’ll be like to be empty nesters.
Not believing his eyes, he launched headfirst toward his wife. “No!” he screamed.
Out of his peripherals, he saw a long black rod, but it was too late to react. The little bit of light in the room extinguished the moment the object made contact with his skull, leaving him in a pit of blackness, a nightmare he’d never escape.
CHAPTER ONE
Detective Mark Waters smacked the phone onto his desk after he hit send. He’d added a heart and smiley face, but he knew Ashlyn saw through him. No, he wasn’t happy that she’d gone to stay with her mother. Especially since she and her mother didn’t even get along.
But what could he say? He wasn’t her husband. He wasn’t even her unborn child’s father. He wanted to be, though. He’d asked Ashlyn to marry him last week, and although she’d accepted his ring, she’d run off to her mother as soon as she’d gotten the time off work approved.
He understood she felt guilty that she was pregnant…blamed herself for the father’s death. But he’d told her a hundred times she was innocent, and that he didn’t care that she was carrying another man’s child. Plain and simple, he loved her. He didn’t care about anything else. But for some reason, he couldn’t seem to convince Ashlyn.
Mark took a pull off the stuff the station called coffee, nearly gagging. He’d skipped picking up his normal brew in his urgency to pick up Ashlyn and take her to the train station. The last thing he wanted was her second-guessing how he felt about her, even though he was wondering if she returned his sentiment.
“Waters,” Captain Andrew Davis shouted before he even entered the detective’s division. Davis had such a booming voice he could have called from his office on the other side of the police station and Mark would have heard him.
Knowing how Davis demanded respect, Mark stood to greet
him. “Yeah, Cap’n?”
“You got a stiff.”
Mark narrowed his eyes in confusion, wondering why Davis was delivering the report, not dispatch. But instead of questioning his superior, he waited for him to finish.
Captain ran his hand over his chin. “We’re going together. My wife called me. Said she found the body as she was opening for the day.”
“I’m sorry,” Mark said, knowing Mrs. Davis was probably freaking out about now. The older woman had always held a special place in his heart because of all the years he’d spent in the library when he was a child.
Mark grabbed his radio and keys off his desk, then knocked on the partition surrounding Tim Townsend’s cubicle. His partner seemed oblivious that the captain was even in the office, but then again, Tim was oblivious of most things. Well, except women. If a beautiful woman had walked in, he’d have been on his feet in seconds.
“Let’s go, Townsend,” Mark demanded, awakening his partner from his comatose-like state that he’d been in for the last week. Even when he was here, he was rarely present.
Tim dropped his newspaper, looking around as if he hadn’t realized he was at work. Based on his crumpled shirt and loose tie, and the fact that his wife had kicked him out again, he’d probably slept here. “What’s up?”
Mark cocked his head toward the captain, who’d remained by the door. His silence made it clear that he had no interest in talking with Townsend. Davis had warned Mark that Townsend was almost through. Tim used to be a good detective. Saw things no one else saw. Could pull a confession out of a witness or a guilty party. But he’d screwed up his personal life so badly he was barely fit to be a meter maid, as Mark always threatened.
“We got a dead guy at the library,” Mark said, then added in a lower voice, “Mrs. Davis found him.”
“Ohh…” Townsend mused in a breath that came out as a whistle. So Tim had a fraction of his wits left anyway. He obviously understood that the captain would expect him to handle this case swiftly and professionally.
Mrs. Davis loved her job as head librarian, and she loved the library. She wouldn’t tolerate anything tarnishing its reputation after she’d worked so diligently to get the landmark listed as a historical monument so the city wouldn’t bulldoze it.
Mark followed Captain Davis to the parking area with Townsend trailing behind him. The sound of the middle-aged detective munching on popcorn irritated him. And Mark knew, just as sure as he was walking, that Townsend would want to ride with him so he could spend the time tapping away on his iPhone, which would further grate on him.
Though the man was in his late forties, he spent most of the workday on his phone. Mark had a smart phone too, but he rarely played on it. Too many important things to do. Tim was addicted to surfing online dating sites, though, and when he wasn’t there, he’d play Angry Birds. Mark wouldn’t mind so much if he’d just turn off the volume. But he had to remind Tim that the non-stop squawking was nerve-racking.
“You drivin’?” Townsend mumbled around a mouthful of popcorn as they approached their unmarked patrol cars. It wasn’t his vehicle, of course, but each detective had their own car, which they treated as though it were theirs. And unlike Townsend’s vehicle that smelled like day-old coffee and fried food, Mark kept his cruiser free of fast-food bags, and it always smelled fresh.
“Not if you’re eating,” Mark barked over his shoulder. “It’d take months for that smell to disappear.”
“Sheesh, Waters,” Townsend grumbled. “So cranky this morning. Had it out with the woman?” he snickered.
Mark ignored Townsend, but realized he was allowing his personal life to affect his attitude at work. Only twenty-nine and he sounded like an old man even to himself. Of course, having an eight-month-pregnant girlfriend who didn’t know what she wanted was enough to drive any man insane.
Ashlyn was beautiful and wonderful, though. One of the smartest women he’d ever dated. Even pregnant, she’d finished her bachelor’s degree and was interning at a publishing house. Her initial thought was that she’d wanted to run a business, but then a friend offered her a summer internship, and she fell in love with the idea of publishing. When they’d offered her a full-time position, even while pregnant, she’d decided immediately to start her new career.
His thoughts traveled to their time together this morning. He’d driven her to the train station as she’d requested, but he hadn’t wanted to let her go.
He’d heard her mother’s snide remarks when they’d visited her during a 4th of July cookout. Without him being there, she’d be free to spew her rubbish. Ashlyn’s mother had insisted that she could do so much better than attaching herself to ‘a cop’, as she’d so rudely insinuated.
It didn’t matter that he’d been running his own online business for years. He’d set up the website for his widowed mother as something to do in her spare time. But the couponing website had become so popular that he’d ended up having to manage it. His mother hunted down all the promotions, and he took care of everything else behind the scenes.
Of course, Ashlyn’s mother had the ridiculous idea that Ashlyn needed to marry a doctor or lawyer. The scorned woman couldn’t imagine that Ashlyn didn’t need a man to take care of her, even though she had one who wanted to with everything he had. If only Mark could make her mother see. Though he knew Ashlyn didn’t care about her mother’s opinion of him, he knew it’d be one less stress on her. He supposed the only way to convince her mother would be to wave his bank statement in front of her face.
Despite the fact that Ashlyn’s previous boyfriends had been ultra-wealthy, she insisted that he was everything she wanted in a man. As well as Mark did financially, he couldn’t compete with their ultra-wealth, but at least he was some competition in the looks department.
Ashlyn had always told him how much she loved that he kept in shape but didn’t have the physique of a bodybuilder, just tall and lean. And she’d always commented on his green eyes and insisted on running her hands through his dark hair, which he’d let grow out a little for her benefit, but still kept it short enough that the cowlicks didn’t get out of control. She loved his curls; he, of course, hated them, as most guys did.
And they enjoyed doing everything together, so what else did she want? Why would a woman say you were everything she’d ever wanted, but then run to her mother days later? A mother she didn’t even get along with. Granted, she’d accepted his ring, but she refused to discuss a wedding date, insisting she needed to take care of a few loose ends in her past first.
Forcing his attention back to his job, Mark parallel parked behind the captain’s police-issued Crown Vic. His eyes darted to the nineteenth-century structure you’d expect to see on the French countryside, not a Pennsylvania city founded on coal mining. He had an affinity for old buildings, but not as much as he used to after his last experience inside an old train station turned restaurant, something he and Ashlyn had promised never to speak of again.
He exited the cruiser and glanced up at the edifice with its high slanted roof and dormer gables straight out of the Renaissance era. No gaudy colors, just soft gray limestone and medina stone. The old building emanated stateliness. The decorative trim over every door and window beckoned passersby to come in and discover its mysteries.
Pushing through the black-iron gate, Mark smiled as he remembered coming here when he was a young boy. Every Saturday morning, Mrs. Davis would gather the students around a massive marble fireplace for story time. But before she’d start reading, she’d pass the book around to the students. Each child had to inhale the pages, thereby infusing the scent and memory as one into their subconscious.
Mark recalled the scent as having the same rustic aroma of an oak tree after it had fallen in the woods, reminding him of the couple of times he’d sat next to his father while he’d hunted. When the breeze had blown just right, a sweet, pungent smell of the rotting wood wafted into the tree stand.
As a boy, he’d thought the old books were slowly rotting
away too, and now the two memories would forever share space in his heart and soul. He also distinctively remembered a delicate hint of jasmine. Then again, he’d sat so close to Mrs. Davis, anxious to receive every word, that it could have been her.
He’d recognized the scent since his mother had planted jasmine in their backyard. The rambling vine had spread across the patio and up the fence, filling his summer days with a memorable scent that would forever remind him of his mother and father sipping tea on the back porch before dinner.
Mark ran his hands down the smooth worn wood that framed the door as he entered the library, reveling in the intricate craftsmanship and design.
As soon as he stepped over the threshold, though, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen then shot a questioning look over his shoulder at Davis, holding his phone up as a request before answering the call. “Ashlyn’s traveling, and I’m a little worried. Do you mind?”
Davis waved him off. “Nah. Go ahead. The old man’s dead. He ain’t going anywhere.”
Mark cocked his head at Davis’ apathetic comment, but said, “Thanks” and clicked answer, strolling toward the walkway adjacent the library. “Hey, babe! Your mom picked you up already?”
“Not yet,” she said, her voice attempting to compete with the racket in the background.
Mark plugged his right ear so he could hear. “She on her way?”
“Yeah,” she said. “She texted me a couple seconds ago, saying she’d be here in a few minutes.”
He grumbled a half-hearted, “Great,” his blood boiling at her mother’s lack of concern for anyone other than herself. What woman leaves her eight-month-pregnant daughter waiting at a train station? He knew he should have talked her out of going.
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