by V. K. Powell
She waited until nightfall, weaved her way through backyards to Karla Temple’s door, and knocked. The woman who answered didn’t seem at all surprised to see a stranger at her back door after ten o’clock. She waved Leigh in as if they were neighbors preparing for a late cup of coffee. The small kitchen and den were as tidy as the outside of the house, with a warm, lived-in feeling. Karla was an attractive woman with blond hair just beginning to prematurely gray, brilliant blue eyes ringed by dark circles, and a figure any housewife would envy. She looked like she hadn’t slept recently, and her gaze was distant and unfocused.
“Little late for a house call, isn’t it? Coffee?” She waved toward the pot that was already on and topped up her cup.
“No, thanks.” Who did Karla Temple think she was, one of the feds from the sedan? Leigh planned to play this out. Maybe she’d get some answers.
“Is this about the phone? The company came yesterday and changed the number.” Her lips were tight and her jaw muscles clenched. “You want to check?” If Karla’s tone could’ve registered on a thermometer, it would’ve been below freezing.
“That won’t be necessary. You understand why we had to do that.” She was playing a hunch and prayed Karla Temple was either too distracted, tired, or worried to be overly cautious.
“You’re afraid the local police will track his calls. Have you found him yet? The only reason I agreed to stay here is because you promised you’d find my son. Where is he? Now that you’ve cut off my only means of contact, you have to know I won’t stay put long.”
Leigh retrieved her credentials and pushed them across the counter toward Karla. “Mrs. Temple, I’m Detective Leigh Monroe with the Greensboro Police Department.”
Karla’s face blanched and she closed her eyes, breathing in tiny puffs through her mouth. “Oh my God. No. Please.” When she opened her eyes, the color so similar to Jack’s, tears flooded her cheeks, but she made no other sound.
“Let me help you.” She wrapped her arm around Karla’s waist and guided her to a chair. “Can I get you a glass of water?” She nodded. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just needed to clarify that I’m not with them.” She inclined her head toward the front of the house where the sedan was parked.
Karla’s hand shook as she took the water glass and brought it to her lips. As she sipped, Leigh saw the fear and panic in her eyes. The question Karla so desperately wanted to ask clearly choked her and she couldn’t speak.
“Jack is okay, Mrs. Temple. He’s safe.”
She slowly placed the glass on the table. “Thank God. Where is he?”
“Greensboro, North Carolina.”
“Greensboro.” She repeated the name as if she’d never heard it before, testing the sound of it out loud. “What’s he doing there?”
“Trying to find his father’s family. At least that’s what he told me.”
“Thank you for taking care of him and for finding me…how did you?”
“Well, Jack wasn’t much help.” She smiled to let Karla know she wasn’t really upset.
“He can be headstrong, like his mother. You traced his phone calls?”
Leigh nodded.
“They won’t like that.”
“Who are they, Mrs. Temple, and why are they watching you? I mean, your husband is dead now. I assume he was a material witness, maybe a mob case or major fraud. Why the continued interest?”
“Look, I don’t care about any of that. I just want to see my son.” Karla silently paced in front of the stove. The way she cocked her head to one side as she moved reminded Leigh of Jack. She clenched and unclenched her fists at her side, her face a mask of concentration. Maybe she was considering how much to tell her, maybe she was devising a lie, but Leigh gave her time. She’d spent nine days wondering where her son was; she deserved a break.
“They’re U.S. Marshals.”
Leigh had expected more. “What was your husband into?”
“Nothing.”
She considered dropping into badass cop mode, but Karla was a distraught mother, and upsetting her further wouldn’t help. “Then why are the marshals outside your house?”
“You’d have to ask them that question, Detective.”
Karla was as frustrating as Jack. Maybe on the plane she’d get more information. “I have a flight back to Greensboro at six in the morning. Shall I book a ticket in your name?”
Karla’s eyes sparkled as if she’d been given the Holy Grail. “Yes, please, but what about the guys outside?”
“I’ll tell them I’ve found your son and we’re going to pick him up.” She started toward the front door. Interagency cooperation usually worked between local and federal agencies, so an honest conversation should produce the desired results.
“No!” Karla practically vaulted across the floor toward her. “You can’t.”
Her reaction seemed a bit over the top. “Why? They’re federal agents. They might help facilitate this mother-child reunion.”
“I don’t trust them, completely. I can’t explain it. Can’t you just help me get my son back…and leave them out of it?”
It was an unusual request. If the marshals knew Jack had been located, they’d probably fly him back to Colorado at no cost. That seemed like a win-win, but Karla was adamant, maybe even a little frightened about involving them. Leigh considered the possible downsides: paying for Karla’s, and maybe Jack’s, tickets herself, pissing off the feds if they found out, complicating or compromising a federal investigation, and delaying this reunion because the federal bureaucracy was notoriously slow. On the positive side, she’d make Karla Temple happy. Maybe seeing the love Karla had for Jack made her nostalgic for something she’d never had. Please Karla or the feds. No-brainer.
“Do they have a usual shift-change time?”
“Around six.”
“Perfect. If you don’t mind, I’ll sleep on your sofa, and in the morning we’ll sneak out before daybreak. Get everything you need ready and put it by the back door. My car is parked one street over. We’ll be at the airport before they’ve had their first cup of coffee.”
“Really?” Karla hugged her and stepped back. “Thank you, so much.” Her gratitude seemed genuine, but Leigh had more questions than answers. Why had she let her son go across the country alone? Why hadn’t she simply explained about his father? Why was she still the subject of government scrutiny? And why the hell hadn’t the marshals brought Jack home if they knew where he was? She vowed to find the answers once mother and son had been reunited, government restrictions be damned.
Chapter Eighteen
Macy was up before dawn, drinking coffee, pacing, and looking toward the lake like she’d been beached by the last wave. She’d called Leigh’s mobile several times since yesterday, but the image of her wrapped in Gayle’s arms prevented her from leaving a message. She reached for her mug but stopped when she noticed her hands shaking from too much caffeine.
What was going on with her? The answer, swift and certain, wasn’t what she expected. She was in love with Leigh. And she’d driven her away. Their liaison had been a series of awkward encounters, not because she didn’t care, but because she had no clue how to handle her feelings or Leigh’s. She’d resorted to anger and vented at Leigh, unable to verbalize what she so desperately wanted to say. She’d been wildly jealous of Gayle, acting like a teenager with her first crush. And when she and Leigh had sex, she’d controlled everything, unable to surrender. In spite of her ineptitude and uncertainty, she’d give anything for another chance. She’d never felt like this, and the possibility of never feeling it again weakened her like an all-consuming disease.
She poured her cold coffee down the drain and went into the studio. Her discolored old lab coat hung on the peg by the door, and the spot where she’d worked on the skull was now an empty space. Reconstruction tools littered the tabletop, and remnants of clay made it look like a miniature obstacle course. She’d finished her last forensics job, and it was time to make way for other things.
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She delicately removed the coat from the hook, fingered the frayed neck and sleeves, and ran her hand down the stained trail on the front. She’d clung to this garment like an old friend, trying to protect herself from the energy of the dead that seeped into her. Like any physical barrier, her friend had become permeable and ineffective as her pain mirrored that in the faces she built. “We have to say good-bye now.” She tossed the lab coat in the trash and retrieved a clean one from under the counter. This one would represent her new career, her new life, filled with light and color, and the kind of art that made her heart sing.
By the time the sun had risen, she’d transformed her studio from a place that worshipped the dead to a place that celebrated the living. She’d packed all her reconstruction tools and pulled out her paints, brushes, palettes, and canvases. The image she’d carried in her head for days, the one Leigh had inspired, came to life. This would be the centerpiece of her show. She looked around the room and smiled. She was finally home again…but one thing was missing. She’d given Jesse years of her life with no possibility of fulfillment. Leigh, alive and filled with potential, deserved no less. An hour later she stood on Pam Wilkinson’s stoop, pressing the doorbell like it was a gaming button.
“What the hell?” Pam opened the door in a pair of boxers and a tank top, her short hair plastered down like a helmet. “It’s not even eight o’clock yet. This better be—” Her eyes focused on Macy and then scanned the area behind her. “I’m not sure who you are, but I’d guess the forensic artist.”
“Just the artist from now on.” She offered her hand because she’d only seen Pam on the dock the day she helped Leigh move in. “I’m Macy Sheridan, and I need to find Leigh.”
“Couldn’t you hold the heavy stuff until after I’ve had coffee? Come in.” Pam closed the door behind her, led the way into the kitchen, and pointed to a bar stool at the counter. She flipped the coffeepot on and a few seconds later put her cup under the drip to catch the strongest pour. “I don’t know exactly where she is at the moment.” Pam took a sip. “Want some?”
She shook her head.
“Wait…I thought you never wanted to see her again. Brain cells are waking up.”
“Never claimed I was perfect. Actually, I suck at emotional stuff, but I love her.”
Pam almost choked on a sip of hot coffee. “Why didn’t you say so? Does she know?”
“I seriously doubt it. I haven’t exactly been forthcoming. That’s why I’m here. I really need to talk to her. Is she in Toronto…with Gayle?” The words were painful to imagine and harder to say.
“With Gayle? Where did you get that idea?”
“Her captain mentioned she was out of town. When I factored in the last thing I said to her, guess I jumped to the conclusion she’d go back to Gayle.”
Pam shook her head emphatically. “Then you don’t know Leigh very well.”
“I just assumed. What happened between them? Why did they break up?”
“I think you should ask Leigh those questions.”
“I just don’t want to make the same mistake. I’ve made so many already, and if I can avoid even one, it would be helpful.” She looked out the kitchen window and visualized her future with Leigh evaporating like fog at sunrise.
“Bottom line, Leigh was never a priority in Gayle’s life, and that reminded her of childhood and her mother—has she told you about Susan?”
“A little. If Leigh needs to feel important to her lover, I’ve already failed her too. I’ve been obsessed with a case to the exclusion of everything and everyone else.” Why hadn’t she seen what Leigh needed before?
She stood slowly and started toward the front door. “Sorry I bothered you, Pam.”
“Hey, where you going? I haven’t answered your question yet. Don’t you want to know where Leigh is?”
“It probably wouldn’t matter.”
“If you intend to give up that easily, keep walking. My best friend’s worth a lot more effort than you’ve put in.”
Macy spun on her heel as anger raged. “I love her, but I can’t give her what she needs.”
Pam had followed her to the door and they stood toe-to-toe. “You don’t get to make that decision for her. If you love her, tell her, and then work it out. Trust me, Leigh’s worth it. Nobody said love was easy. If easy is what you’re looking for, go find another sixteen-year project and crawl back in your hole.”
“What?” It took a second for Pam’s statement to sink in. “She told you about that?”
“She had to talk to somebody. You two weren’t communicating.”
Pam was exactly right. She’d hidden behind the memory of a wonderful girl for too long. Jesse would’ve been appalled at the way she’d lived her life shackled to the past. She sighed, and some of the tension in her body eased. “You’re right.”
“Of course I am. Everything happens for a reason.”
She rolled her eyes. “God, now you sound like her with your clichés.”
“Sorry, must’ve rubbed off.”
“So, where is Leigh?”
“On her way back from Colorado. We found Jack’s mother.”
“That’s fantastic.” She should be ashamed for suspecting Leigh of running back to Gayle when she’d been doing what she always did, taking care of others. “Does he know yet? Is he excited?”
“I’m not sure about that, but his mother is ecstatic. Why don’t you wait here while I get dressed? Leigh will call when she gets back. I’m meeting her at the foster home with some paperwork to start the process for Jack’s release. You can go with me, and you two can talk.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
*
When Leigh stopped in front of Susan’s condo, the light wrinkles across Karla Temple’s forehead deepened. “Is this the right place?”
“Yes, it’s a temporary foster home. Why do you ask?”
“It’s just not what I expected.” During the flight Karla had been on edge, asking questions about Greensboro, the population, crime statistics, and the local art scene. She sounded more like a woman shopping for a house than picking up her missing son. Karla’s blue eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, but she resisted Leigh’s suggestion to get some rest. She’d hoped to chat with Karla about her situation with the marshals and about Jack and his father, but every time she broached the subject, Karla deflected. Leigh wrote it off as a mother too concerned about her son to think about anything else.
“Can we go in?”
“Before we do, I’d really like to know why your son came here alone looking for his father’s family. Why didn’t you just tell him what he wanted to know?”
“He gets an idea in his head and no one can talk him out of it.” She continued to look at the house. “I’d really like to see him now.” She opened the car door before Leigh could ask any more questions.
She’d called Susan to let her know they were on their way, and she greeted them at the front door. She held out her hand to Karla. “I’m Susan Bryce. I’m so glad you’re here.” She nodded to Leigh as they entered. “Nice to see you again, Leigh.”
“Where’s Jack?” Karla asked.
“He should be home from school any minute. He caught a ride with a friend.” She guided them toward the kitchen that overlooked the small backyard. “Would either of you care for coffee, tea, or anything?” They both declined. “That son of yours is quite the little man. He’s very intelligent and quite mature for a fifteen-year-old.”
“Fifteen?” Karla looked from Leigh to Susan. “Jack just turned sixteen recently. Why did you think he was only fifteen?”
“That’s what he told us,” Leigh said. “He volunteered to go into foster care, gave us minimal details about his father, and let us do the work. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to find any of Steven’s relatives. The marshals blocked our inquiries, which brings me to my earlier question. Why wouldn’t he have just asked you? And why weren’t you looking for him?” The last one was the real question Leigh wante
d answered. Why would a mother not look for her missing son, regardless of his age?
Before she had the chance to ask again, the front door opened and Jack called out, “Susan, you home? It’s me, checking in.” When he got to the kitchen, he stopped, his eyes fixed on Karla Temple. “Mom!”
“Oh, Jack!” Karla rushed to him and they hugged, dancing in a small circle around the kitchen. “Are you all right? Have they been good to you? I’ve missed you so much. Oh, my darling, please don’t ever leave me again. Promise.” She held him at arm’s length and assessed him up and down.
“I’m fine. Susan has been wonderful. I’ve missed you too. And I promise not to leave again if you’ll tell me the truth.” The machine-gun responses seemed to reassure Karla until his last statement.
“Let’s discuss that later, shall we? We don’t need to inconvenience these nice people any further. We really should get back home. Get your things together.”
Karla tried to usher him from the room, but Leigh blocked their path. “I’m afraid it’s not quite that simple. You need to answer my questions before I let him go, and there’s a process through Children and Family Services and the courts.”
“But he’s my son.”
“He’s been gone ten days and you haven’t even filed a missing-person report. That alone is cause for concern. You have to understand what that looks like from a law-enforcement perspective. We have to be sure it’s safe and reasonable for him to return to your care.”
Susan stepped between Karla and her. “Leigh, why don’t you give them a few minutes. I’m sure they’d like to talk in private.”
When had her mother become so concerned about others? But the scared look on Karla’s face and the determined set of Jack’s jaw made her think Susan could be right. “Okay, fine. I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.”
“Why don’t you take your mother to your room, Jack?” Susan said.