by Becky Durfee
“No problem,” Zack said. “I will say that it’s mighty sunny out here, though, and I’m afraid it might be abundantly clear to your mother that I didn’t listen to her about the sunblock. How much trouble will I be in?”
Jenny dismissed the notion with her hand. “I wouldn’t worry about it. I didn’t put any on either. If anyone’s going to be nagged about this it will be me.”
The SCUBA team headed out into the water while everyone silently watched. Once they got out far enough, two men stepped out of the boat into the water, one of them carrying the camera. After what felt like an eternity, one of the men resurfaced, giving the camera to the officer remaining in the boat. In return the man on the boat handed down a board reminiscent of the top of a stretcher. With the rescue board in hand, the diver disappeared into the water again.
“This means there’s a body, doesn’t it?” Darlene whispered.
“I imagine it does,” Rod said compassionately. As if reading Jenny’s mind, Rod added, “Darlene, would you like to take a walk with me? I’m not sure you should see this. And besides, I have a theory I’d like to test out.”
With one long last look onto the water, Darlene nodded and wordlessly turned away. Rod placed his arm around her shoulder and led her toward Jenny’s car.
Despite her desire to join Rod and Darlene and distance herself from what was about to transpire, Jenny realized she might have been able to get a reading if she stayed close enough to the body. Dead bodies were going to be a way of life for her now, and she needed to thicken her skin if she planned to be an effective psychic. No time like the present to start.
At least that’s what she told herself.
Eventually the SCUBA divers appeared again, each holding an end of the board with the remains strapped to it. They carefully placed the board in the boat, and the two divers swam back while the man in the boat steered both himself and Patricia’s remains to shore.
As the boat approached, Jenny noticed the body looked more intact than she had thought it would. She expected little more than an incomplete skeleton, but she was able to make out Patricia’s skin, although it looked as white as snow.
Jenny closed her eyes, telling herself she was trying to facilitate a reading as opposed to avoiding the sight of the corpse. While she failed to convince herself that was true, she did try to relax, but she was too nervous to successfully do so. As a consequence she was unable to receive a reading, although she wasn’t sure if Patricia was trying to send one or not.
Much to her surprise, she felt comforting arms surround her. Zack, she thought as a surge of love ran through her body. She hugged him in return, resting her head on his shoulder. His touch provided her with more solace than she could have ever expressed.
With her eyes still closed, Jenny heard the commotion as the divers emerged from the water. Various male voices permeated the silence, creating a deep buzz that kept her rooted in the present. The origination of the voices traveled toward the road, culminating in the slam of the forensics van doors closing with conviction. At that point Jenny deemed it safe to open her eyes; she was greeted by the seemingly tranquil marsh that had harbored a terrible secret for the past seven years. She marveled at how much ugliness could rest just beneath the surface of something that appeared to be so lovely and untainted.
Although, she surmised, Aaron himself had served as proof that looks could most certainly be deceiving.
As Jenny heard the engine of the forensics van rev, she began a silent promise to Patricia. We’re far from done, Patricia. We will keep fighting to free Brian. Although tears threatened to ensue, Jenny drew strength from the reassuring arms that surrounded her. Hopefully some evidence will surface with this discovery, and we’ll be able to prove that Aaron was a monster. In the meantime, at least now you can be properly mourned and laid to rest; I hope you can find some solace in that. With a nod so subtle no one else could see, Jenny completed her silent prayer to Patricia and released her embrace from Zack.
The van began to pull away, and with it went the earthly remains of a loving woman who endured a fate she clearly hadn’t deserved. Jenny and Zack both watched wordlessly as it drove out of sight, paying their respects in the only way they could.
“You know,” Jenny said quietly to Zack, “I do need to thank you. That hug came at just the right time.”
“Well, I saw you close your eyes, and I didn’t know if you were getting a reading or if you were feeling sick. I wanted to comfort you and be quiet at the same time.”
Jenny smiled. “I wish I was receiving a reading, but unfortunately I think the latter is closer to the truth. It turns out I’m not too keen on seeing dead bodies.”
“It was pretty gross,” Zack confessed. “Fascinating, but gross.”
Jenny glanced over to where Rod and Darlene were standing with their backs to the pond; mercifully Darlene may have been spared from seeing her daughter’s remains being removed from the water. Rod was circling his hand above the photograph again, causing Jenny to wonder exactly what he was trying to accomplish.
“Can I ask you a question?” Zack’s loud voice startled Jenny; he was speaking to a member of the dive team.
“Sure,” the man replied as he stepped out of his wet suit.
“How was the body so well preserved? We have the feeling it might belong to Patricia Morris, who has been missing for eight years. But wouldn’t it look a lot worse than that if it had been in there for that long?”
“Not necessarily,” the diver said. “Sometimes a substance called adipocere forms around a body that’s been submerged. It’s white and waxy, and it protects the body from the elements, almost like mummification.”
“I never knew that,” Zack replied with a hint of awe in his voice. Jenny wondered why a former construction worker sounded so surprised that he wasn’t aware of the specifics of underwater decomposition. Did he really feel like that was something he should have known?
“Well, it doesn’t always happen,” the diver explained, snapping Jenny out of her thought process. “It depends on the conditions—the PH of the water and stuff like that.”
“But that’s a good thing, right? That’s she’s preserved?” Zack posed.
“Good and bad. It’s good in the sense that the medical examiner might be able to determine the cause of death. Considering the internal organs are most likely intact underneath the adipocere, he should also be able to extract some DNA for a positive identification.” The diver placed his wet suit in the bed of a pick-up truck. “The problem is that preservation makes it almost impossible to determine how long the body has been in the water. It could have been three months or ten years. There’s no way to tell.”
Zack nodded with understanding. “Thanks, man.” Jenny chuckled at the informality men could share under any circumstance.
Looking up at Zack, Jenny softly said, “I’m going to go check on Darlene—see how she’s doing.”
“That’s a good idea,” he replied.
She walked slowly over to Rod and Darlene, noticing that Darlene was crying. Jenny reassuringly rubbed her hand on Darlene’s back when she arrived, softly adding, “I’m so sorry.”
Darlene didn’t reply, but her nod and expression indicated she was grateful for Jenny’s sentiment.
“Well, I’m not sure these are entirely tears of sadness,” Rod said to Jenny. “I just told her I channeled Patricia’s spirit again, and I’m quite sure Patricia knows she’s been found. There was a lightness to her that I hadn’t experienced before.” He looked intently at Jenny. “She was definitely rejoicing.”
At that moment a police officer from the local force approached the group. “Darlene,” he began. “We’ve been trying to call you. How did you know to come here?”
Wiping her eyes with one hand, she gestured to Jenny with the other. “She told me.”
The officer looked quizzically at Jenny before returning his attention to Darlene. “So I guess you’re aware of the latest development.”
“Yes,” Darlene said in a near whisper. “I’m aware.”
“Well, we can’t be sure that it’s her yet,” the policeman said. “Unfortunately we have to wait for the medical examiner to make a positive identification before we can give you any definite answers.”
Darlene shook her head subtly, her eyes distant. “I don’t need to wait for a medical examiner,” she said softly. “I know it’s her.” Jenny watched with amazement as Darlene’s demeanor shifted instantly from sad to determined. She turned to the policeman and in no uncertain terms insisted, “I want you to investigate Aaron Morris as possibly having murdered my daughter.”
The officer looked surprised. “Darlene…you know as well as I do that he was investigated and cleared years ago.”
“Yes,” she replied with authority, “I do know that. But some things have come up that lead me to believe he wasn’t the upstanding man he made himself out to be, and I’m becoming increasingly convinced that he coerced Brian into providing him with an alibi. It wouldn’t be that hard to intimidate your son into lying for you if you’ve already proven you’re capable of murder.”
The police officer looked around as if he was in over his head. “Would you like to come down to the station to make an official statement?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact I would.” Darlene turned to Jenny. “Would you mind giving me a ride to the station? My car is still at the restaurant.”
“That’s no problem,” Jenny replied, quite impressed with Darlene’s take-charge attitude. “I’d be happy to.”
Darlene looked defiantly at the officer. “I guess maybe I’ll see you there.”
Jenny waited in the lobby of the police station for what seemed like an eternity. Finally Darlene emerged, looking more angry than anything. “Come on,” she said as she walked past Jenny. “Let’s get out of here.”
Confused, Jenny threw her purse over her shoulder and followed Darlene out the door. By the time Jenny caught up to her, Darlene was standing at the passenger door of Jenny’s car with a firm grasp of the handle.
“What happened in there?” Jenny posed.
The two women got in the car, Darlene slamming the door behind her. “They’re a bunch of fucking idiots, that’s what happened in there.”
Turning the key to start the car, Jenny asked, “What did they say?”
“They said they don’t have any evidence that Aaron was ever abusive.” She turned to Jenny. “But do you know what those incompetent assholes say they do have? They do have evidence that Brian has the propensity to kill.”
“So they think Brian did this to Patricia?”
“That’s what they kept insinuating. Bastards.” Darlene crossed her arms over her chest as Jenny backed the car out of the space.
“What motive would he possibly have had?” Jenny asked.
Darlene shook her head. “A sick and twisted desire to inflict pain? I don’t know. I kept trying to tell them that they need to look into the possibility that Aaron was abusive and that he’d killed Patricia. And maybe Aaron’s murder was just the result of Brian getting fed up with the abuse. Either that, or Aaron was about to really hurt Brian that day, so Brian stabbed him in self-defense.”
“They wouldn’t listen?”
“No, they wouldn’t listen. They developed this theory that maybe Brian wasn’t lying and giving his father an alibi for the day of the murder, but rather Aaron was lying to provide Brian with an alibi. While I agree it wouldn’t be too unreasonable for a father to lie to protect his son, the notion of Brian killing his mother is preposterous. His mother wasn’t abusing him, and he never would have done such a thing without provocation. I know Brian, and he doesn’t have it in him.”
Jenny pinched the bridge of her nose as she drove, trying to absorb this latest information.
“And they weren’t done,” Darlene continued angrily. “They even theorized that Brian went to Aaron’s house that day with the intent to kill him. They surmised that Aaron was threatening to spill the beans about what happened the day that Brian killed Patricia.” She spoke with exaggeration. “So Brian felt like he had to keep Aaron quiet. What better way to silence him than to kill him?”
“Why are they so reluctant to believe that Aaron was abusive?”
“Because there was no record of it. No police calls to the house. No restraining orders. As far as they’re concerned, any stories of Aaron being abusive are just hearsay. But, Brian doesn’t deny killing his father. That’s fact. So they’re convinced that Brian is actually the one who is most capable of having killed Patricia.”
Jenny wanted to be angry, just like Darlene was, but she had to recognize how difficult it was for the police to pinpoint the culprit in a murder investigation. During her past cases where the perpetrator’s face wasn’t revealed in visions, Jenny also had a very hard time determining who the killer had been. While she understood Darlene’s frustration, she also felt a good deal of sympathy for the police, who didn’t have the advantage of psychic visions pointing them in the right direction.
Remaining calm, Jenny proposed, “Darlene, here’s what I want you to do. I want you to go home and go through all of your old pictures of Patricia. Look for signs of bruising, scratches—anything that might suggest abuse.” Recalling her first vision, she added, “And pay careful attention to her neck area. Something tells me that was a favorite target of his. Oh…and make sure the pictures are old enough that the police won’t be able to claim Brian was the one who put the bruises there. If you can find marks on her when Brian was just a baby—or even before he was born—that would be evidence that Brian didn’t put them there.”
Gathering her wits with a single deep breath, Darlene replied, “I’ll definitely do that. That’s a good idea.”
“I know, isn’t it?” Jenny said to lighten the mood. “I thought of it while you were in the interview room.” She flashed a smile at Darlene, and then she realized how Zack-like she had just behaved. Perhaps he was rubbing off on her.
Jenny gripped the steering wheel. What a scary thought.
Chapter 10
“Thanks for coming with me,” Jenny said to Zack as they sat in the waiting room.
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this.”
Jenny smiled, but that smile faded as she glanced down at her hand. “I never thought I’d be sitting next to you at a doctor’s office while holding a cup of my own urine.”
To Jenny’s relief, Zack just shrugged. “It’s all good.”
While his ultra-laidback attitude could sometimes prove to be problematic, at times like this Jenny was grateful for it. Perhaps apathy wasn’t always a flaw.
Jenny turned toward Zack, looking at him compassionately. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”
“It’s just a cup of pee,” he said.
With a laugh Jenny said, “No, not the cup of pee. Are you sure you’re okay with being a father?”
He put his hand on Jenny’s knee. “Yes, I am most definitely okay with this. I’m thirty, after all. It’s about time I started acting like a grown up.”
“You could do that by diversifying your portfolio.”
“True,” Zack replied. “But that wouldn’t be as fun.”
Jenny thought for a moment before making her next statement. She wasn’t sure if the notion was worth bringing up, but since it had been bothering her, she decided to put it on the table. Sitting back in her chair and looking at the wall across from her, she asked, “How disappointed will you be if the baby doesn’t have psychic ability?”
“Not very,” Zack replied, much to Jenny’s relief. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. It would be cool if he did, but if he doesn’t he’ll just have to be devastatingly handsome like his old man. Then he could model or something.” Zack puffed out his chest.
Jenny cocked her eyebrow. “He?”
“Yes. He,” Zack replied matter-of-factly. “You weren’t expecting this baby to be a girl, were you?”
“It’s possible,” Jenny proclaimed.
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Zack shook his head. “No, I’m afraid it’s not. I’m a Larrabee, you see, and we only make boys.”
“You have a sister.”
“That was a fluke.” Zack removed his hand from Jenny’s knee and used both hands to speak emphatically. “Larrabees have excellent Y swimmers. The X’s, not so much. Every once in a while an X will have a rare victory, but not very often.” After a moment of deliberation he added, “I think my great-grandfather made some kind of pact with God so he could ensure he’d have enough employees for his construction business.”
“So does this mean my child has to build houses for a living?”
“Most definitely not,” Zack declared. “Our son can do anything he wants to with his life.”
“Yes,” Jenny said with a playful smile. “She absolutely can.”
“She?”
“Jenny Watkins.” The nurse stood with the door open against her back.
Jenny patted Zack’s leg. “Come on, buddy, that’s our cue.” She stood up and headed toward the back, making a concerted effort to not drop her cup of urine.
“So when was the first day of your last period?” the nurse asked as she typed into a laptop.
Jenny paused as she did the math in her head. “February eleventh.”
“Okay, so let’s find out when the big day will be.” The nurse grabbed a cardboard wheel and turned it, aligning dates. “Well, it looks like you shouldn’t make any travel plans for Thanksgiving. Your little one should be arriving on or around November eighteenth.”
Jenny smiled. November eighteenth—the day she would become a mom. The notion was surreal. Then she heard Zack say, “Excuse me…I believe you mean our son should be arriving on November eighteenth.”
“Daughter,” Jenny countered, looking expressionlessly at the nurse.
The nurse looked back and forth between Zack and Jenny, apparently unsure if they were kidding, and simply asked, “Are you currently taking any medication?”
Jenny bit her lip and answered the remaining questions. After some withdrawn blood, a prescription for pre-natal vitamins and a second appointment scheduled for a month later, she and Zack began their journey home.