Through The Window

by Wendy Campbell

  “Wait,” she yelled, but Roger grabbed her arm before she could run out of the room.

  “You won’t catch him.” The sound of a car peeling out faded away.

  “I need to explain.”

  “Later. Right now you need to come to the station.”

  ****

  Jordan didn’t know where he was and he didn’t care. An untouched bottle of whiskey sat on the dark counter in front of him. Just like before. The start of another downward spiral sat within reach. He knew it, just like he knew booze was the only way to dull the pain.

  Mel burglarized his parents’ house! Of course, she knew they were in Europe and the house was empty. Why hadn’t he figured it out? The old stories should have clued him in, but he’d been too concerned with getting her naked. His fingers wrapped around the bottle. His cell phone rang. Damn it. He snapped it open, expecting to hear Mel, pleading and apologizing.

  “Shut up,” he said before she could get in a word. “I don’t want to hear it. Any of it.”

  The skinny bartender glanced over.

  Jordan ignored him. “You deserve everything you’re going to get. And more.” He took the phone away from his ear, ready to flip it closed when he heard Roger’s voice.

  “Jordan,” his brother shouted. “Shut up and listen to me. It was a set up. A. Set. Up. Do you hear me?”

  “Good. I should have listened to you from the beginning.” He snapped his phone closed and looked at the whiskey.

  ****

  Two hours later, Mel leaned back in the hard wooden chair. Roger and a detective named Dexter Carson took notes as she told them everything except Carley’s role. The detective left with the papers she’d given to Roger detailing her childhood burglaries. Roger picked up the phone and dialed.

  “Beth, it’s me. Yes, everything’s fine. Would you put Carley on? Melanie needs to talk to her.” He gave Mel the phone and turned back to the stack of papers.

  “Auntie Mel?”

  Mel heard the catch in Carley’s tired voice and battled back tears. “Hi, sweetie. It’s me. Everything’s fine.” She gave Carley a condensed version and promised to see her the next day. She disconnected and began dialing Jordan’s cell number. Roger took the receiver from her and put it back on the cradle.

  “I need to talk to Jordan.”

  “I tried, ’bout an hour ago.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He didn’t want to talk to you.” Despite the rough answer, she thought she glimpsed compassion in his eyes.

  “But I have to explain.”

  Roger shook his head. “It won’t do any good. Not right now.”

  Stung, she sank back onto the chair and stared at the dark window. She didn’t expect Jordan to change his mind and pledge his undying love, but the secrets she’d guarded so long were out in the open, and she desperately wanted to explain.

  The rookie, Cunningham, stepped into the room. “Sir, you should know. The local news team is here.”

  Roger blinked. “Who?”

  “Mr. Eddings, the journalism teacher from the high school. He’s got a couple of the kids with him. And cameras.”

  “Shit.” Roger slammed his chair back and headed for the door. “Cunningham, take her home. Go out the back.” Roger turned his steely, cop-eyed look on her. “Don’t leave town. I’ll have an officer bring your car back tomorrow.”

  ****

  Early the next morning, the slamming of a door pulled Mel out of a nightmare. Charm jumped off the bed, barking like crazy. Her bedroom door flew open.

  “What the hell is going on?” Sara stood in the doorway, hands on hips.

  Alex pushed his way in and started firing questions, while Charm jumped in excitement. Behind Sara, Yvonne smirked.

  “Enough,” Mel yelled. “Alex, put the puppy outside. The rest of you, get out of my bedroom. I’ll explain everything after I get dressed and have some coffee.”

  Alex scooped Charm into his arms and left. Sara stayed. She closed the door and leaned against it.

  “Carley’s fine.” Mel pulled on a pair of jeans. “She’s with Justine.”

  Sara nodded. “Beth called. You lied to me.”

  “I know.” She steeled herself and met Sara’s gaze. “I’m sorry. It’s the only way I could protect her. I’ll explain while we have coffee.”

  She pulled Jordan’s blue Seahawks jersey over her head. When she got to the kitchen, Alex handed her a mug of instant coffee. The complete silence was more disconcerting than the shouting. She shook off the lingering fear from the nightmare she couldn’t remember and sat on a stool, turning so Yvonne was out of her direct line of sight.

  “You won’t want to hear this, but don’t interrupt. When I’m done, I’ll answer your questions.” She waited until they all nodded.

  “I was never Daddy’s Little Girl. I was his thief; starting the day I turned ten.” Fifteen minutes later, she looked pointedly at Sara. “Right before I left for Denver, Mick came over in the middle of the night because he’d gotten Carley stuck in someone’s house. She couldn’t get out.”

  Sara turned white, so Mel wrapped an arm around her. “When you told me about Carley getting dressed up, I knew Mick was still here. I told Roger. Everything. He swore me to secrecy, and Carley said she’d stayed at their place before, so I didn’t think you’d mind that part.”

  “You lied,” Sara said in a wounded voice. “You made Carley lie to me. How could you do that?”

  “Let me finish. Then you can yell at me.”

  Alex’s eyes opened wide. “Holy shit. There’s more?”

  She told them about last night. “Mick’s in the holding cell at the police station. I’m not sure what happens next. Roger said he’d call and let me know.”

  “You expect us to believe this crap?” Yvonne got up from the couch and planted her hands on her hips. “You’ve always been trouble. Admit it. You’re a greedy bitch and now you’re trying to pin it on Dad.”

  Everyone started talking at once. Alex, always her staunch defender, looked ready to take a swing at Yvonne. Sara burst into full-blown sobs. Yvonne stormed out and slammed the door.

  “This is, unreal,” Sara said with a sniff. “I can’t believe Carley would do something like that. I can’t believe Dad would either. He loves her. He really loves her.”

  Tears burned the back of Mel’s eyes. “I know. He used to love me, too.” She gripped Sara’s arm. “I need to tell you why Carley went with him.”

  Tears rolled down Sara’s cheeks, but she nodded.

  “Mick threatened to burn down Last Chance,” Mel said softly. “He said if she refused to help him, or told anyone, he’d put you out of business and you wouldn’t be able to take care of them. Carl wouldn’t take them, so they’d be put in foster homes. He convinced her he’d ruin her life, and yours.”

  “Take away my kids?” Sara’s eyes turned glassy and her body went limp.

  Mel grabbed Sara before she could hit the floor.

  The phone rang, and Alex answered it. After a minute, he hung up. “Roger wants you to be at the police station in half an hour. He’ll bring Carley and your car.” He looked at Sara, who nodded. “We’ll give you a ride.”

  Now Mel’s tears came. They might not understand, but they knew the truth. And they didn’t hate her.

  ****

  Mel sat across the desk from Roger, and next to the man who would be taking over the case, Detective Ian Radcliff. She refused to wait for court appointed counsel. Instead, Alex stayed with her. Sara had taken Carley home, after making Mel promise to call as soon as she could.

  “Do you understand the situation, Miss Quinn?” Detective Radcliff leaned back in his chair and studied her with an iron-hard stare that would give even seasoned convicts the jitters.

  “Yes.”

  “The statute of limitations for burglary is seven years. You can’t be charged for the burglaries prior to that. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. We’ll move on
to your admission of manslaughter.” Detective Radcliff picked up a file and leaned back in his chair. “Joseph Lankin was found dead eighteen years ago. The body was discovered July 24th. The time of death was the prior evening.” He shuffled some papers and looked up. “July 23rd, just as you said.” Radcliff studied her for a long moment. “However, there are a number of discrepancies.”

  She prepared for the worst. Mick must have convinced them she killed in cold blood, that she blackmailed him instead of the other way around.

  “The cause of death,” Detective Radcliff said in a monotone, “was a knife wound to the throat. The knife was found underneath the body.”

  Her blood went cold. “I didn’t have a knife,” she whispered. “I hit him with a bottle. A green bottle.”

  “There were prints on the knife.”

  Her heart iced over. Had Mick set her up, even back then?

  “The prints were partially smeared. They couldn’t make a match, but they belonged to an adult, not a ten-year-old.”

  Stunned, she turned to Roger.

  “You didn’t kill him, Melanie.”

  She stared at him. Roger had never addressed her by name, not once. The tears streaming down her cheeks were from more than relief.

  He gave her an encouraging nod. “As the detective said, the burglaries are still being sorted out. You need to stay in town until everything’s settled.” Roger didn’t smile, but his words filled the room like a shaft of sunshine.

  “Thank you,” she managed.

  “You’ll likely be asked to testify against your father,” Detective Radcliff said.

  “He’s not my father anymore. He’s just Mick.” Then the full impact of what he’d said hit her. “Mick killed him?”

  “We don’t know yet.”

  Roger got to his feet and came around the desk. He leaned a hip against the scarred wood in a stance so like Jordan’s, she felt a stab to her heart. Roger gave her shoulder a squeeze, then ushered her and Alex out so he could talk with the detective.

  “Are you okay?” Alex wrapped an arm around her as they walked down the hall.

  She nodded. “Please, let’s go.”

  They walked into the lobby as Mick was led out of an office. His hands were shackled. A police officer she didn’t recognize held his left elbow.

  Mick glared. “She killed him.”

  Everyone turned, and she could feel the shock reverberate through the room like a wave.

  “I’ll help you prove it, Daddy.” Yvonne jumped up from a seat in the lobby, her glare identical to Mick’s.

  Here was Mel’s family, facing off across the lobby of the police station. The realization that she did this made her sick. With an apology on her lips, she turned to Alex, but Yvonne wasn’t finished.

  “She’s lying. It’s obvious. I don’t know why you’re being arrested and she’s not. It’s not fair. It’s—”

  “Shut the hell up,” Mick snarled at Yvonne. “And stop your gawd-awful whining. You’re giving me a headache.” Dismissing Yvonne, he stared at Mel. “She killed Joe. She begged me to take her to different houses so she could take what she wanted. She—”

  “Enough,” the officer said and pulled him down a hallway, where they disappeared around a corner.

  Yvonne’s face turned sheet white and she ran out the door.

  The receptionist shrugged, like this kind of thing happened every day, and handed Mel her keys. With Alex by her side, Mel walked out into the sunny morning. Eight cars filled the otherwise empty parking lot. By now her admissions, although strictly confidential, would be common knowledge throughout the Valley. When she was young, it had been hard to meet the eyes of the people she’d just robbed, even if they didn’t know what she’d done. Now, it would be impossible.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Mel saw Anna waiting on the porch. As Mel explained everything, tears flowed, tissues were handed over, and hands were patted and held. Anna moved in for the next week, discouraging those who came to pry for information and doing all Mel’s errands so she wouldn’t have to go out. Melanie Quinn would face the people of Cedar Valley, but not just yet.

  Except for Jordan. She wanted to see him, but she didn’t get the chance. Each night she borrowed Anna’s Jeep and drove to his house, only to find it empty. When she got back Thursday evening, Anna sat at the kitchen table with a bowl of popcorn and a large, hardbound book.

  “Roger called.” Anna screwed up her face in irritation. “He scheduled a meeting tomorrow at ten. When I asked him what it was about, he said to mind my own business and stay home. The jerk.” She slammed the book closed. “This legal mumbo-jumbo is useless. I can’t figure out what they’re talking about.”

  “Don’t waste your time,” Mel said. “Tomorrow this might be over.” The waiting was driving her crazy.

  “Any luck finding Jordan?”

  “No.” Mel took a seat and ate a handful of popcorn.

  “Forget him. He doesn’t deserve an explanation.”

  “I can’t forget him.” Mel tossed a piece of popcorn and Charm caught it. “I wish I never sent him that letter. I condemned myself, only to discover I didn’t kill anyone. If that’s all he reads, if that’s the only thing he gets from me, he’ll think I’m guilty, no matter what Roger says.” She didn’t say anything about Carley. Not even her closest friends knew her niece’s role. Only her family, Roger Stone, and Jordan—if he ever read her letter, knew.

  Anna gave her a small smile and said nothing.

  Mel thought about the red baseball hat. Was it still sitting on the stuffed sheepdog? Would he even recognize it? She’d learned long ago that possessions were just things, easily lost or stolen. She refused to tie emotions to objects, to give them personal value. But Jordan’s hat—her hat, she corrected—was different. She’d kept it as a reminder that something good could come from a nightmare. Being able to see it, to touch it, had helped her through many dark days.

  Then Jordan saved it when her car burned. In a way, he’d given it to her twice, and each time it had been like salve on a particularly painful wound. Now she needed her little red hat and the soft, warm memories and innocent dreams that went with it.

  ****

  The next morning, Mel sat in the conference room at the police station. While Detective Radcliff and Roger took their places across the table, she studied the poster on the wall behind them. The intriguing beach and blue sky looked like an advertisement for a travel agency. Or a glimpse of a place no one entering this room should expect to go if they were heading to prison.

  “Ms. Quinn,” Detective Radcliff said, “you will be called to testify against Michael Quinn, aka Mick Quinn. When the date is set, we’ll let you know. You are not a suspect in Joseph Lankin’s murder.” He smiled. “Thank you for your assistance in the arrest of Mr. Quinn. Unless Officer Stone has anything, you’re free to go.”

  “Actually,” Roger said, “I’d like to speak to Ms. Quinn about another matter.”

  Mel’s heart hammered as Detective Radcliff got to his feet, nodded to them and left. Roger leaned back in his chair, his face unreadable.

  “Years ago,” Roger said as he leaned back in his chair. “I saw you coming out of a house in the middle of the night.”

  Even though the truth, every horribly bit of it, was out, Mel’s blood froze, chilling her entire body.

  “It was late, just after midnight,” Roger said and explained how he’d seen her, followed her and how he’d checked to see what she’d taken. “I don’t get it. Why didn’t they know you were there? What did you take?”

  “I don’t remember those specifically.” She gave him an irritated look. “And I certainly don’t remember being followed, but I doubt I took anything.”

  “Then why did you break in?”

  “Mick made me. He’d stand guard until I got inside, then he’d go back to the car. If I thought I could get away with it, I’d wait a couple minutes and meet him at the car. I’d tell him I couldn’t find anything, or there were
people sleeping in the bedrooms. A couple times, I told him someone drove up after he left, but one time he caught me.” She grinned. “He was furious, but he wasn’t about to go in himself.”

  Roger laughed. “I wondered about that for a long time.”

  They got to their feet, and Roger held out a hand. “Melanie Quinn,” he said in a formal voice, “I’m glad you came back to Cedar Valley. You’ve cleared up a lot of questions.”

  She smiled, even though tears stung the back of her eyes as she took his hand. “Thank you.”

  “I told Jordan about the times I saw you. I thought you should know.”

  She looked away. “It doesn’t matter.”

  In a move so like Jordan’s, Roger gently took her chin and turned her to face him. “It does. He needed to know. He’s fallen for you, despite my adamant protests. And now that I understand you, and what you did, I have to say he’s a lucky man.”

  Mel was speechless.

  “Why don’t you tell him what you told me?”

  “I can’t.” She tried for a non-committal shrug. “He left before I got the chance, and he hasn’t come back. I can’t stay. People know…everything. I can’t stay here.” She couldn’t stop the tears. Knowing she could never come home again, tore at her spirit. She’d had one chance, and she’d blown it. “Maybe it’s better this way.”

  “Maybe not. Why don’t you stop by his place? My brother can be a pig-headed jerk. I know because he takes after me.” Roger touched her shoulder, then opened the door, but she held back.

  “I wrote him a letter,” she said through her tears, “and I might have revealed Carley’s role. I didn’t name her, but he’ll put the pieces together.”

  Roger leaned against the doorframe. “He wouldn’t hurt her.”

  “I know, but what if he lets something slip?”

  “You could try talking to him.”

  “He won’t take my calls. I knocked on his door every day for the last week, but he’s not there. I don’t know what else to do.”

  Roger studied her for a minute before pulling a ring of keys from his pocket. He took one off and held it out. “Beth and I are going away for the weekend. Actually, I’m late already, or I’d do this. Here’s the key to his front door. He asked me to get his mail. I’ve been putting it on the kitchen counter. See if your letter is there.”