Demons and Other Inconveniences

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Demons and Other Inconveniences Page 14

by Dan Dillard


  *****

  Police continue an investigation into the brutal case of a local man who allegedly murdered his wife and six-year-old daughter early this morning. Officers on the scene are quoted as saying the bodies were “torn to pieces.” Apparently, the family dog was also killed in this tragedy. The unnamed husband and father, who is now under arrest and being held without bail, claimed he found his family when he returned home from a business trip and they were already dead. Details are still coming in so stay tuned for updates on this hideous crime. News 6 at 6 has as yet been unable to interview the alleged killer and we are told he is in shock.

  More as the story develops.

  Next up, the weather. Will you be able to take the boat out this weekend? Stay tuned and we’ll let you know!

  ..ooOOoo..

  CONFESSIONS

  Dropping your child off at daycare for the first time is terrifying. So many things can go wrong. They don’t know evil when it first introduces itself.

  WHEN THE PHONE rang, my life was normal, happy, everything in order…until the detective spoke.

  “Mrs. Andrews, this is the Detective Williams with the state police. We were making an inquiry into a recent complaint against Sunshine and Smiles Daycare, and no one was there. Are your children with you?”

   The words didn’t work together in the sentence. The handset rolled in my loosened grip. I heard something about being first on their list from the tactful bastard on the phone. Thank God for alphabetical order. I vaguely remember hearing the phone hit my desk with a crack as I stood up to go. I walked to the boss’s office.

  “Sir, I have to leave. My children…” was all I managed.

  The world was hazy. He frowned. “You’ve been out three of the last seven workdays for some reason or other. If you’d like to keep this job…”

  “My kids,” I said but he kept talking. His voice trailed off and I didn’t care. Those kids were my life. That was just some job and even in a crappy economy I wasn’t about to listen to a lecture from a fat, alcoholic divorcee.

  I don’t remember driving home, it was all on autopilot. Somehow I managed to gather my things and get the car home without killing anyone. I opened the door from the garage into the kitchen and called for them.

  “Nattie? Mattie?”

  Natalie and Matthew were my four year old twins. It seems no matter how hard you try not to be cute with twin names, something happens to make them similar. ‘Nattie and Mattie’ just happened. It was outside of my control. It was all outside of my control.

  No home with twin four-year-olds is ever silent. The house was silent. I thought—hoped—I had forgotten them that morning and they would be playing somewhere in the house. I hoped for a huge mess to clean up on their behalf. It was a stupid notion.

  Maybe there was a field trip I’d forgotten about, or maybe there was some emergency and Sunshine and Smiles Daycare just moved the kids to another location. My gut told me otherwise.

  Wouldn’t they notify all the parents? Surely they would’ve called. I looked at my cell, no voicemail, and then at the house phone to find a big zero flashing at me on the base unit. Next stop was Sunshine and Smiles.

  The home-like atmosphere of the place had won me over. I researched for months before picking a daycare for my babies. Going back to work was so tough and leaving them with strangers made it near unbearable. There were several church sponsored facilities that seemed preachy, and a few others that resembled schools, but they were so institutional. Sunshine and Smiles seemed like dropping them off at Grandma’s and Miss Jeanette was such a kind soul.

  Miss Jeanette was the owner and caregiver. She wouldn’t take more than five children at a time because she ran the place on her own and the state had limits on the ratio of providers to children. Five was a decent number for one woman to handle and she had the group mesmerized with her stories and games. Playtime was a learning experience. Meals were cooked fresh daily and there wasn’t even a TV in the building. The kids always seemed happy.

  “It’s fresh air, creative arts and reading here. I want them to be well rounded people,” she had said. She was a licensed teacher and in her mid thirties. The facility was spotless, her prices competitive and there were no complaints I could find against the business. It was quite a sales pitch.

  The kids loved it and came home with grins nearly every since they started there. Sunshine and Smiles indeed.

  As I drove to the familiar location, my first stop each morning before coffee and work, I wracked my brain for answers to questions I didn’t even have yet. Had there been any signs? Should I have known? My car bumped over the curb and up the driveway to park behind a single police cruiser. There was an officer on the porch walking towards me.

  “Good morning,” he said. “Ma’am, were you notified by Detective…”

  “Yes, he called me at work. I’m Valerie Andrews” I interrupted and repeated the conversation I’d had with Detective Williams.

  “What an asshole,” he said under his breath and then, “Excuse my language, Mrs. Andrews.”

  Miss, I thought. Or is it still Mrs. After your husband dies? I couldn’t remember at the moment and didn’t care, it was just clutter in my head. His uniform said Cowan, but he didn’t introduce himself. I made a mental note of the name in case I had to contact someone; he seemed like a better candidate than the detective.

  “No, it’s fine, and I totally agree. Where are the children? Have you found them yet?”

  He shook his head and I hated him. Why was he here and not out looking. Why wasn’t he doing more? There was concern in his eyes. For that at least, I was thankful. He looked to be serious about finding them.

  “No ma’am. We’re still looking into that. Are you aware of any reason they might have left the premises today? A field trip, perhaps?”

  “No. They haven’t taken any field trips, at least not in the last six months,” I said.

  I couldn’t even remember a release form in case they had to go somewhere. If there was an emergency, she was to call an ambulance, and then contact me. That was on our contract.

  “Officer Cowan,” I said, “the detective mentioned a complaint. Would you mind telling me what it was about?”

  He didn’t want to tell me, I could see that on his face, in his posture, but there was something else there. I got the impression he must’ve had children of his own. He glanced in either direction before speaking nervously.

  “Yeah, um. We received a call from an angry mother early this morning. It seems she found a bite mark on her son’s forearm.”

  “One of the children bit him?”

  “No, this was a large–an adult sized­­–bite mark,” he said as if it was somehow embarrassing.

  My stomach lurched. The policeman continued. “The mother questioned the child and he finally told her that Miss Jeanette bit him because he wasn’t listening.”

  Logic took over before my mind caved in. “My kids didn’t say anything about that. Was he the only one there?”

  “I don’t know ma’am. You’re the first parent to respond. We haven’t been able to reach the other mother or father.”

  My heart was a drum roll and my face was hot. “What about Miss Jeanette’s house? Has anyone been there?”

  “We did send a patrol car to the address listed but the house is empty. I mean completely empty. It looks like she’s been sleeping here.”

  “You didn’t find any…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the question. I’m not even sure what I was going to ask.

  “No, ma’am. There’s no evidence of any wrong doing in the home,” he said.

  “Aside from the five missing children?” I asked.

  “Four. The bite-mark boy is at home. But you’re correct, that’s the only thing we have to go on at this time.”

  “What do I do?” I asked.

  “The best thing for you to do is go home and wait. If you think of anything, please, call us,” he said handing me a business card.
<
br />   I knew he was going to say that. I ignored the card knowing full well how to get hold of the police.

  “Ms. Andrews, we will find your children. We’ll find all of the children.”

   Driving home following that conversation was the worst and longest ten minutes of my life. I knew in my soul that fucking Jeanette took those kids. My kids. Someone complained and she ran. That kind soul snapped and bit that boy and then when the police were called, she ran. There were only two other families with children registered there. I wasn’t waiting for a call from the police. I was going to call those families when I got home and find out whatever I could.

 

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