Startled, she jumped back into her room and then admonished herself for losing her composure. This is a hotel for heaven’s sake. People come and go all the time, day and night. Don’t be spooked by your imagination, you wimp.
She opened the door again and made a mad dash to the garage. She pulled away from the hotel and drove aimlessly to work off her late night insomnia. Subconsciously, she knew exactly where she was going. Within minutes, Connie pulled up in front of her former house. The moonless night, without a star in the sky, cast a gloomy aura on the barely lit and empty street. The scene was disturbing.
Her stomach churned and her palms felt clammy. The anxiety was silly. She tried to rationalize her thoughts, but couldn’t diminish the veil of evil that covered her once happy home.
Some dark, mysterious force haunted this house, drawing her in. She fixated on her former bedroom window. Perhaps all the gossip and ugly rumors Lily had told her were true.
Just then, a dim light emanated from her bedroom window. As fast as she saw the light, it was gone, and she wondered if it had been a figment of her imagination.
Panicked, she turned to make sure the windows in her car were up and the doors locked. A loud tap on her windshield made her heart leap. A man’s face appeared and a deep voice directed her to roll down her window. Driven by her fears, she turned on the ignition and sped off, tires squealing.
Several seconds passed before she had the nerve to check her rearview mirror. Oh, damn! Behind her was a flashing red light, probably a police car. Was it really the police? Connie kept driving until she heard a loud speaker from the patrol car ordering her to pull over and wait in the car. She did as told. The officer got out of his cruiser and approached her.
He smiled and in a friendly voice asked her to crack the window only enough to pass through her driver’s license. Next, he wanted to know what a person with an out-of-state driver’s license was doing parked alone on an empty street in Ohio so late at night. Was she lost? Did she need some help?
Connie felt a lump well up in her throat and found it impossible to speak.
The officer tried again. “Are you waiting for someone?”
She burst into tears and could not stop crying. Allowing her a few moments to compose herself, the policeman apologized if he had scared her. She had done nothing wrong. After a few deep breaths, she blurted out, “Years ago, my parents were gunned down in that house. I miss them terribly. I just want my house to be as it was, but evil seems to have encircled it.” Her sobs continued.
In an attempt to calm her down, the officer held his badge up to the window and asked that she look at his identification. “My name is Sgt. Joe Reynolds. I have been a police officer in Tilden Park for twenty-five years. Take a look at my badge. I won’t hurt you. There is an all-night diner a few streets away. How about I buy you a cup of coffee?”
When they arrived, she recognized it as the gathering place where she and her high school friends had spent endless hours.
Over cups of steaming hot coffee, Connie and Sgt. Reynolds discussed the violent murder of her parents all those years ago. “I was a rookie cop when your parents were murdered, but I remember the facts like it happened yesterday. Murder is not an everyday occurrence in Tilden Park. However, my superiors closed the case years ago. I’m certain nothing new has come to light.”
Reynolds admitted his boss was convinced Andrew was the killer. “So it’s possible some leads were ignored.” He promised Connie he would look at the file and request the case officially be re-opened if he found any substantial leads that hadn’t been thoroughly investigated.
“Do you remember anything that might help, no matter how trivial?”
Connie shook her head. “No, nothing now. My brother and I are here for the reunion and we plan to talk to neighbors and friends about this. If we discover anything at all, may we call you?”
“Of course. Call me at the station,” he replied, “and I’ll call you at the hotel if I find anything.”
After finishing their coffee, he escorted her back to the Tilden Park Inn.
Chapter 7
Thursday—September 4, 1986
Connie woke up at seven and tried to go back to sleep. No luck. She was anxious to talk to Julio and wondered how happy he would be to hear from her so early. She knocked lightly but persistently on the door to Julio’s room.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mumbled sleepily. “You’re up already?”
“Sorry, Julio. I’ve had a wild night and I’ve been waiting for a decent hour to wake you.”
“Hell! Then go back to bed and wait for it! It’s only seven o’clock.”
“Come on, I’m buying breakfast downstairs. We need to get an early start.” She heard him mumbling and swearing, but knew that meant he was getting out of bed.
“Alright. Go downstairs and order me coffee. I’ll jump in the shower and be right down.”
Julio joined her ten minutes later. Already she had polished off a carafe of coffee and waved down the waitress for a refill plus two orders of eggs over easy and crisp bacon.
“Are you going to tell me about your little escapade last night? I saw your note this morning when I was getting dressed.”
While they ate, she reviewed the events of the previous night. “The bottom line is that I drove back to the house and while parked there, I met Sgt. Reynolds who has agreed to look over our parents’ file. He will search for overlooked leads and ask his superior to review with the consideration to reopen. He was not overly optimistic and confirmed my suspicion that it’s considered a cold case. It will probably take some new evidence to reopen it. Sgt. Reynolds will call me if he has anything to report. He was a rookie when the murders occurred and he remembers the case vividly since a double homicide in Tilden Park was hardly the norm. He seemed like a good guy and at least has an interest in our case.”
“Great,” Julio said, “but is it the case that interests Sgt. Reynolds, or the pretty damsel in distress?”
“Not everyone automatically thinks about sex. I know that may seem strange to you, my sex-crazed little brother. The guy could be married with five children at home for all I know, and anyway, he was a perfect gentleman. Besides, I like them tall, dark and handsome, and that definitely does not describe Reynolds. He’s nice looking, like the boy next door, but older.”
Upset that she would venture out alone at night, Julio made Connie promise that she would not do it again, or at least would take him with her. He was thankful for the understanding officer, but did not want her counting on him getting their parents’ case reopened. Connie agreed that Sgt. Reynolds was a long shot, but at least it gave her some hope.
“Now it’s time to gather information and that begins with our old neighbor, Nola Perkins.”
Throwing his head back, Julio groaned a little too loudly, causing the other diners to look over at them.
“No! It’s too early to face that bigoted busybody. What a lousy way to start my day.”
“Too late. I called her yesterday while you were in the bathroom and she’s expecting us at nine sharp,” Connie said with a smug smile. “However, there is a reward for you. Afterwards, we’ll have lunch anywhere you please.”
“Gee thanks, Con. We can go to one of my favorite places when I was eight.”
Chapter 8
After breakfast, Connie and Julio drove to the scheduled visit with Nola Perkins, their next door neighbor from childhood.
Julio’s boyhood memory of Nola was negative. She was someone who definitely did not like those with dark skin. He and Andrew had both been victims of her sarcasm and rudeness.
Connie remembered Nola’s son, Martin, as a shy nerd, never having many friends—none really—because he was so quiet and intense. She hoped he had come out of his shell after all these years.
“I was pretty young at the time, but looking back now, my impression is that he was a lost soul. He liked to hang around our house as long as Andrew wasn’t there. He’d even come over
when you weren’t there.”
“Hmm. I don’t remember that.”
“Of course you don’t. You weren’t there. I remember finding him alone in your room, just sitting on your bed and staring into thin air. It sticks in my mind, because I asked him if he wanted to play and he said he couldn’t because he was busy. I kept spying on him and all he did was sit there and stare at nothing. I was scared and told Mom, but she said to just leave him alone. After that I always got the creeps when he was around.”
“What? You never told me that. I gotta admit, it is a bit creepy. But I always knew him as kind and gentle.”
“Trust me, he’s strange. He spent hours in his tree house with that big, scary, black bird, just staring into space. That’s not normal.”
As they pulled up in front of Nola’s house, Connie couldn’t resist a glance at their old home next door. In daylight, it looked less menacing, but it still looked cold and empty. An irresistible force drew her eyes to her bedroom window. She shivered from the memory of her dream. She kept telling herself there had been no one in that window last night, but she could literally still feel a presence in the house. Shaken, she didn’t mention it to Julio as she was sure he would think she was losing it.
When Connie opened her car door to get out, Julio grabbed her arm. “Wait. What’s our excuse for getting out of here?”
“I’ll just tell her we’re going to stop by and see an old friend and her new baby today. Nola will never know I haven’t spoken to anybody in years.”
By the time they walked up to the front door, it was wide open with Nola standing in the threshold.
“Oh. Constance, I’m so happy to see you. I can’t believe you’re finally here; it’s been so long.” Nola hugged Connie and then drew back to peruse her. “My heavens, let me look at you. You resemble your father so much. What a handsome man he was and what a beautiful young woman you are. But then, you were a beautiful teenager, too. I am so sorry Martin isn’t here. I tried to tell him you were coming, but he had already left.”
Nola put her arm around Connie’s waist and walked her into the living room. Left standing at the door, Julio reluctantly followed the women inside, closing the front door behind him. The fire blazing in the stone hearth was a warm contrast to his cold reception.
The threesome sat around a coffee table Nola had set with a silver urn of herbal tea and a plate piled high with chocolate chip cookies. She poured a cup for Connie and herself. With a roll of her eyes, Connie passed her cup to Julio and poured another for herself.
“Is Martin planning to go to the reunion on Friday or Saturday?” Connie asked Nola. “Julio and I are planning to attend both nights, even though it’s going to be difficult for me to work up the nerve to face everyone.”
“But dear, you were always such a popular girl. If you had stayed and graduated, I am sure you would have been Homecoming Queen. Now our little queen has finally returned home. Everyone will be delighted to see you and discreet enough not to inquire about your parents. I am sure of it. Don’t worry; you’ll have a wonderful time.”
Nola wanted to know all about her life since leaving Tilden Park. Connie talked about her final two years of high school in Salt Lake City and how she grew to love the mountains—skiing in the winter and hiking in the summer. “After four years of college in Arizona, I decided Utah was home and got a job with an event planning business. I loved the whole industry, found it both exciting and challenging. I worked my way up to General Manager.”
Connie was proud of her success, but she didn’t blow her horn by mentioning how the company had thrived under her innovative leadership. She did however fill in all the blanks regarding her life and as much of Julio’s as she could, although it was embarrassingly obvious that Nola did not want to hear about Julio, much less his legal successes.
Determined not to let Nola’s rude behavior upset him, Julio asked about Martin, mainly in hopes of needling her. He knew things had not gone well for her son, and it would be interesting to see how she would spin his life story. He and Connie listened to her brag about his achievements, which seemed far too plentiful for someone now living above his mother’s garage. Her overzealous comments came across more disingenuous than realistic.
After listing all Martin’s academic successes, she droned on about his achievements as a psychologist and his partnership in a prestigious clinic. In the end, when his goals clashed with those of his partners, he switched his career to photography, a hobby from high school.
“It doesn’t pay well, so I insisted he take the apartment above the garage. And now that he’s here, I’m thankful for his company even though I don’t see much of him. I have few friends left in the neighborhood and still miss your parents a great deal. The people who bought your old home are gone so much, and I’m not friendly with the neighbors on the other side. You know I’m sure you’ve noticed how much the neighborhood has changed. Many of the people moving in would never have had the nerve to do so years ago.”
Shocked by that comment, Connie managed to control herself. “Do Earl and Sue Lookey still live across the street?”
“Sue was lovely but God rest her soul, she died several years before Martin moved back. Sadly, Earl is nothing but a disgusting, crotchety old man. He never gave me the time of day, even when your parents were alive. I tried to talk to him once when I saw him at the post office. He was so offensive—I was telling him about the folks who moved into your house, asking him if he ever saw them and what his impression was—you’ll never believe what he said to me. He looked me in the eye and said, “Mrs. Perkins, do I look like someone who gives a shit?”
Julio stifled his laughter with a severe coughing fit.
Nola gave him a nasty look and continued. “He’s a sick old man with a disgusting dog named Sniff. He’s had three ugly dogs—Bassett Hounds I believe—and all of them creatively named Sniff. Once one of his wretched dogs tried to dig up my tulips, and I threatened to call the pound. I can’t even repeat what he said to me then. I felt so sorry for Sue. How could she live with such an unpleasant, obnoxious man?”
“How difficult for you having such a nasty neighbor,” Julio deadpanned.
Connie quickly changed the subject and got to the reason they were there; her parents. “Nola, tell us what you remember about our parents.”
“Well, I grew up with your Dad. My family lived across the street from his family right here in Tilden Park. He went to Bolton Day School for young men and I went to Miss DeVoe’s School for Girls. Your dad was one of those guys who had it all—handsome, smart and everyone loved him. Particularly for a psychiatrist, he was extremely personable. Actually, he was usually the life of every party, always outgoing in a social setting.
“As you know, he met your mother at Purdue, where they both did their undergraduate work. She came from a small farm town in Indiana and had a mind of her own. Not the typical housewife in Tilden Park. She was rather contrary with an extremely liberal view of the world. It was as though she had prematurely decided she was not going to conform to the opinions and persuasions of the old Cincinnati guard. As a non-conformist, your mother was always taking up some obscure cause. If it wasn’t animals or the homeless, it was some tribe in Africa. She was a staunch defender of the underdog, so we weren’t surprised when she adopted Julio. We thought they were done having kids since you were about eight at the time.
“I was so surprised when my husband—God rest his soul—and I bought our dream home and found out your parents lived next door. What fun your mother and I had being pregnant together, with you and Martin. Your mother was different, but very caring and maternal. When I lost my husband shortly after Martin was born, I was devastated and had no idea how I was going to raise a son all by myself. Your parents made me feel like part of your family and included both of us in your festivities and gatherings. I always teased your mother that in marrying John, she had inherited me. Your Dad was especially kind to Martin and treated him like the son he didn’t have.”
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Julio flinched and Connie quickly brought the conversation back to her folks. “Nola, would you tell us about the day they died?”
“I relive it every day in my mind. I’ve spent so many hours asking myself questions and still have not come up with a thing that’s new. It’s the all-time mystery. The police were quite suspicious of your Negro friend, Andrew. Other than him, I know of no other suspects. When talk died down and the police released the Negro boy, he and his parents moved away. No one knows where. If it was not your colored friend, the word was that it was a break-in gone wrong.
“After all, you know how the disadvantaged often resent the privileged and wealthy, and want what we have. They pick a house where they think there will be cash and jewelry and if the people are home, they just shoot them. I’m so sorry I can’t come up with any more of a reasonable explanation than that.
“Everyone liked your parents, especially your father. The only time I ever saw either of your parents angry was an incident at the country club. There was a fight, almost a physical fight between your mother and a real estate agent, Beth Vreeland. They got so loud, the club manager had to intervene. I don’t know what they were fighting about, and your mother would never say, but that was the last time they were seen together in public, so far as I know.”
At this point, Nola began to ramble on about the country club, who had become members in the last twenty-two years and who had been denied. It was the last straw. Julio lost his patience with Nola’s ignorant rantings. He rose from the chair, stared pointedly at his watch and suggested it was time for them to go.
“We have another friend to visit and it would be rude to be late.”
Waiting and Watching Page 3