by Stacy Green
“Which is why you prayed she’d never have kids,” I said.
“More than that,” Anna said. “Can you imagine her with an infant, of her bonding with something that couldn’t do anything but love in return? She couldn’t do it.”
“Is that how it was with Chris?”
Anna again looked down at her ruined hands. “He was three when we first met him. So serious. And so quiet. He didn’t climb on her lap or seek attention. Once, I thought he might try. He’d fallen and scraped his knee. I remember him standing there with his chubby leg bleeding and her doing nothing but handing him a towel. She told him to go to the bathroom and clean it.” She punched her thighs. “A three year old! He wanted to cry, but I could see him fighting it off. Like he knew the tears would make his situation worse. I couldn’t stand it. I took him to the bathroom and cleaned him myself.” Anna wiped her eyes. “And when I hugged him, he acted as if he didn’t know what to do.”
Working with CPS, I’d encountered other children like this, mostly due to their parents’ drug habits. The little ones were left unattended and half wild. Any sort of mental or physical interaction confused and frightened them. “What did Mary do?”
“Oh, she was furious,” Anna said. “I expected her to yell at me over involving myself with matters that didn’t concern me, but she said nothing. She just glared at me the rest of the afternoon.” Anna shuddered. “That was much worse than her yelling. I’ve never met a person who could accomplish what she can in just a look.”
You have now. I shoved the thought away. “So when Chris came to you, did you have to teach him how to be affectionate? To be normal?”
Anna nodded, wiping her eyes again. “It was as if his emotional growth was stunted, but he didn’t throw tantrums. He didn’t have trouble processing things when he was told no. He just accepted it and moved on, as if he dared not challenge. But he didn’t know how to be happy or how to be a child.”
“But you were able to change that?”
She smiled through her tears. “To an extent, yes. But he was always too serious, too reflective. He worried. And his nightmares didn’t help.”
“He talks about those sometimes,” I said. “He thinks he saw more than what he realized, and he feels responsible for what happened to those girls.” I thought he’d told me everything, but he’d only scratched the surface. I couldn’t decide if I was more hurt or angry.
“For not realizing it sooner, I know,” Anna said. “His nightmares were awful. He’d wake up screaming about women being beaten and crying. Charles kept saying he was just drawing it from what he saw and heard about Jenna Richardson, but I knew. I knew he’d seen more. And I never believed Mary wasn’t involved.”
I tried to choose the right words, not wanting to sound accusatory. The Hales certainly weren’t the first people to be shocked by the cruelty of someone in their family. “From what I’ve read, some of the detectives working the case wondered too, but after seeing those videotapes of John abusing her sexually, they seem to have dropped the issue. Of course, we know now those were staged by her.”
“She’s brilliant,” Anna said. “And she wanted to take Chris with her. We fought like hell for him.”
Dread spread over me, entwining itself with my already burning nerves. “What? I thought she asked you to take him.”
Anna looked ashamed. “No, that’s what we told him. I didn’t want her to have him. She didn’t deserve him. She certainly couldn’t take care of him, and he was so unloved, so broken. I convinced Charles to petition the court, and she lost custody.”
“I can’t imagine a woman like Mary Weston took that very well,” I said. Mary would have seen that as a defeat–a loss of control.
“She didn’t,” Anna said. “After the verdict, she caught up with me in the ladies’ room.” A shudder racked her small body. “She never touched me. She just blocked the way and glared at me with those deep, hateful eyes. And then she left. It wasn’t until very recently I realized how lucky I was to be alive.”
She truly was, but a bigger problem had taken over my thoughts. “Chris doesn’t know any of this, does he? He thinks she chose to abandon him.”
“Not anymore.” Anna tore her tissue in half and fell back in the recliner. “I didn’t know he was emailing her until Charles filled me in on everything late last night. If I’d known that was happening, I wouldn’t have kept Chris’s confronting me a secret.”
“Confronting you?” Yet another thing he hadn’t told me about, but I had been out of commission recently. Still, at this point I wasn’t feeling especially forgiving.
“Three days ago,” she said. “He came into my office and waited until I’d finished with my last patient. He didn’t tell me he’d spoken with her, but he claimed he’d been doing some research and discovered the information about the court hearing. I didn’t know how because it was closed. But he pressed, and I caved.” She clasped her hands together, bringing them to her flattened lips. She shook her head as if trying to vanquish the memory. “I’ve always felt so guilty for lying to him, and it was time he knew the truth. So I told him.”
“You did it to protect him.” I knew Chris wouldn’t feel the same way. Not at first. He would have heard nothing but the realization his beloved aunt and uncle had lied to him. With Mary already in his head from the emails, his actions from the last two days finally began to make sense.
Anna wiped her tears. “I expected a blow out. Instead, he just looked at me with a coldness in his eyes I’d never seen. He reminded me of her, that day in the courthouse.” She shuddered. “When Charles told me about the emails, I put two and two together. She’d told him. Found his weak spot just like she did his father’s.”
“It makes sense now,” I said. “I saw the emails and knew what she was doing, but part of me couldn’t figure out why Chris allowed her into his head. But he’s angry and feeling betrayed. He’s right where she wants him.”
“Exactly,” Anna said. “All these years, we’ve done everything we could to protect him, to shield him from the truth. But our choices are going to get him killed.”
“You can’t think that way.” I didn’t sound like I believed it any more than she did. “Agent Lennox is very good, and I’m going to help. I’ll do everything I can to make sure he’s brought home safely.”
“Even though he followed you?”
Because he followed me. I wanted answers. I needed them. “I’ll worry about that later.”
“He doesn’t understand women, you know.” Anna dug a fresh tissue out of her bag. “He’s never had a real relationship, and he’s afraid of rejection. So whatever interest he had in you, whether it was about Justin or something more, he didn’t know how to take it. So he watched until he’d gained the confidence.”
That much I could understand. I could even accept the journal entry–he’d kept the thing when he was a kid, in a tumultuous time. The stalking was the issue. But I’d have to find Chris if I wanted answers.
Now that I finally understood his mindset, I might just be able to pull it off.
16
I called Todd on the way to Kelly’s apartment. “I just talked to Chris’s aunt. She told me Chris found out about the custody battle a few days ago.”
“ADA Hale told us this morning,” Todd said. “Which you would have known had you been here. Did you get your personal matter taken care of?”
“Almost.” I didn’t respond to the challenge in his voice. “I’ve got another stop to make, and then I’m stopping at home for clothes. I’ll be back by tonight. Are there any leads?”
“Lennox is furious with you,” Todd said. “His tech could have really used your assistance today.”
“They’ll get it tomorrow. I’m not convinced going through a bunch of files from years ago is the best way to find Mary now.” I agreed with the theory–that we needed to understand Mary’s past–but I could read people well enough to know Lennox had decided to give me busywork in the hopes I’d stay out of the way. “
No leads?”
“Actually, there is. The local grocery store reports the same man coming in once a week for the last couple of months to buy supplies. He’s older, probably in his eighties, and walks with a cane. He’s got bad arthritis in his right hand–I guess it’s pretty gnarled up–so he stands out. No one else in town knows who he is.”
“That doesn’t exactly sound like an able-bodied accomplice,” I said.
“It’s the best we’ve got right now. No sightings anywhere, no hits on Chris’s credit cards. Lennox has a sketch artist working on a composite of the elderly man.”
Good for him. Mary had more than some old geezer doing her grunt work. “Call me if anything else happens,” I said. “I’ll let you know when I’m back.”
He didn’t say goodbye.
Kelly’s relieved smile sent a shiver of warmth over me. Barefoot as usual, with her toenails painted a bright green, she ushered me inside. The purple highlights in her hair had grown out to just the tips, and her usual spikey look had given away to a softer, wispy shape around her face that made her look like a sweet woodland fairy from one of the popular children’s movies.
We didn’t speak as I hung my coat near the door or while she poured me a cup of coffee. Finally, when I took my customary seat at her tiny counter, she broke the silence.
“No leads?”
“Not exactly.” I told her about the old man sighted in Jarrettsville. “I’m not convinced it will pan out to anything.”
“But there’s something else,” Kelly said. “You look like you’re coming down from an all nighter and need another hit. What is it?”
I took my time, staring first at the coffee and then at the various magnets on her fridge. Most of them were snarky phrases and the result of online shopping. Same with her coffee cups. The one in my hand offered a middle finger as a design, and it was my usual cup. “Chris stalked me.”
“We knew that already.” This was one of the things I loved most about Kelly: her practical approach. She didn’t see the need to sugarcoat anything. In fact, she was one of the few people I knew who realized how valuable the raw truth really was.
“Not so much.” I told her about Camp Hopeful and the memory box. “I don’t even know how to feel, and I really don’t know how to process it because he’s missing, and I have to help find him.”
Kelly pushed her empty cup to the side, her elfin, pale cheeks bright. “But do you really? He’s the one who inserted himself into your life, not the other way around. He’s an adult and made this choice. The FBI is already involved. What do you owe him? Especially after finding out all of this?”
“I shut him out this last month.”
“So what? You shut us all out. It happens.”
I smiled. Someday, I’d have to make sure Kelly realized she was the strongest person I’d ever known. “But Chris needed me. I’m one of the few people he trusts. And we all let him down.”
“We?”
“His aunt and uncle lied to him about his parents.” I understood their motives, but at the same time, I wanted to yell at them both. They knew Chris felt abandoned. Why hadn’t they told him the truth when he was a child? Wouldn’t it have been better to know his mother wanted him on some level, but the courts decided against it? Why allow him to continue to feel orphaned?
“What could they have kept from him that was so bad?”
I ticked off the lies on my fingers. “His father was adopted, so he’s not blood relation to Charles Hale.” As I spoke, understanding flashed in my weary head. “Charles Hale is good. He’s normal. He was the biological link Chris clung to. His parents might be monsters, but Charles Hale wasn’t. So Chris didn’t have to be. But now, he knows that’s not true, and he knows very little about his family. His head’s a wreck, and he starts talking to his mother.” I held up a second finger. “Who tells him about big, fat lie number two: she didn’t give him up, she lost custody. His aunt confirmed this to him just a few days ago.”
“And just like that, Mother Mary’s in his head.” Some of the anger melted off Kelly’s face.
“Exactly. He’s feeling totally lost, and now she’s in his ear. His aunt said Mary never showed him any affection, but I think Chris longs for something from her, even if it’s just information. And between my shutting him out and his aunt and uncle’s lies, his foundation crumbles. Mary leeches in.”
“The mother of all bad timing.” Kelly winced at the bad joke. “But that doesn’t mean you need to feel guilty. You didn’t lie. You were a mess. Sometimes you have to take care of yourself and say to hell with everyone else for a while.”
“I shouldn’t have shut him out.” I couldn’t get past that part, even with the discovery about Camp Hopeful.
“You didn’t know,” Kelly said. “And let’s put Chris aside for a minute. How are you? Because less than forty-eight hours ago, you weren’t doing so hot.”
Several words tumbled through my brain. Manic, angry, confused, betrayed, exhausted. “I think I’m better,” I said. “I feel something. Something other than pity for myself. Something other than nothing.”
“It’s called depression,” Kelly said. “They have medicine for it.”
“I know, but you have to see a doctor first. What am I going to tell him?” The image almost made me laugh. I’d either have to make up some elaborate lie, which came naturally but would make me feel even worse about myself, or tell him the truth, which would put the doctor in a legal conundrum. At least I’d have some entertainment.
Kelly looked me straight in the eye, no longer delicate but fiercely protective. “You tell him you’ve never gotten over the death of your sister, and it led you to becoming a private investigator obsessed with pedophiles. Recent events led you to kill a person in self-defense, and you don’t know how to deal with it. You can skip the illegal parts and still get help.”
My hackles were up. “I got over Lily’s death.”
“Stop.” Kelly held up her hand, the kitchen light catching an old, jagged scar on her palm, courtesy of her cruel stepfather. “Saying it out loud just makes it worse. You know her death and your guilt drive everything you do, even if you don’t want to admit it yet.”
I drank my coffee, feeling the heat steam my insides. “Back to Chris. I get his head space now. And I certainly get hers.”
She raised her eyebrow, and then nodded. I’d earned a pass–for now. “What’s her end game, though?” Kelly asked.
“He’s hurt and needs her. Everyone he knows lied. Who knows what she can convince him of?” If he was in the right headspace, manipulating him would be so easy, anyone with a small amount of skill could do it. And Mary certainly had the skill.
“You don’t think he’d do something awful for her?” Kelly echoed Todd’s earlier words. This time, I spoke honestly.
“He’s thought about doing it on his own, even thought about killing her.” I said. “And he helped me get rid of Preacher’s body. He’s angry and hurt, and now she’s in control. Who knows?” I pushed my coffee aside, my stomach burning. “The FBI seems to think I can help with their search into Mary’s background. Apparently they believe I have inside knowledge of the case. I think Lennox just wants to keep an eye on me.”
“You can’t blame him.” Kelly bit her lip, looking around her apartment. “You’re supposed to work with the tech, going through records?”
“A lot of them aren’t even online,” I said. “It’s going to take a lot of phone calls and begging for cooperation.”
“With Lennox over your shoulder,” Kelly said. “And I doubt Todd will be able to stay much longer.”
“He probably doesn’t want to.” The thought of Todd leaving bothered me more than it should have. “But I don’t want to talk about him.”
Something sparkled in Kelly’s eyes, as if she knew exactly what sort of torment flowed through me. “That’s fine. You can tell me more in the car.”
“What?” I stared at her, the fine hairs on my neck suddenly standing up.
“I’m going back to Maryland with you.”
17
We drove south in darkness. Yesterday’s wind had died down, but fresh snow, just enough to be dangerous, fell and made traffic slow. Kelly sat rigidly in the passenger seat, her tiny fingers clutching the seatbelt and her wide eyes taking everything in as though she’d never seen a busy interstate.
“How long has it been?” I asked.
“Four years since I left my neighborhood, and that was only for therapy. I can’t remember the last time I was in something like this.”
She didn’t know how to drive. Her stepfather had been too busy using her as a sex slave to teach her. “This snow isn’t bad. There’s enough traffic to keep the pavement warm. As long as we take it easy, we’ll be fine.”
“I trust you.”
Those words should never apply to me, but hearing her say it gave me the slightest hope that something would turn out right. At least for one of us. “I am so proud of you. This is such a big step. And I can’t tell you how much it means that you’re making it for me.”
Kelly finally tore her eyes from the traffic. “You’re the only person I’d do it for. You’re the reason I’m still alive.”
My eyes welled. I couldn’t speak.
“You didn’t know that?” Kelly’s soft, steady voice bolstered my urge to cry. “You’re the one who got me out of that house, and you didn’t give up on me when the PTSD was so bad I couldn’t stand to be touched. You’re the closest thing I have to family, and I want to help you.”
Several seconds passed before I trusted myself to speak. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Kelly said. “I just want you to be happy, and finding Chris will make you happy. And maybe, with the FBI breathing down your neck and keeping you in line, you’ll realize you can still be the person you want to be. Without killing.”