by Ben Follows
Norman shook his head.
“The doctor who found the disease was Harold Sweetwater. He gave us a chance to save Marie.”
Norman stared at him. “What?”
Gary leaned back in his chair. “I’ve known Harold for a long time. He’s been my doctor for about a decade. It was through him that Robin got hired here. When Marie got sick, Harold oversaw all the procedures and suggested new procedures when I was looking for them. No one deserves to have a loved one taken away before their time. Whatever you need, if I can, I will get it for you.”
“Thank you,” said Norman, although there was something bothering him that he couldn’t place. “I’d like to get access to Robin’s computer. I want to know what she was working on.”
Gary nodded. “We have an online database. I’ll get you a password.”
“Anything else?”
Norman nodded. “I’d like to speak with your crime reporter. I don’t like Detective Franklin any more than you do. Something about him rubs me the wrong way.”
“I’ll get our crime reporter to call you. He’s out investigating some new street drug called Burrow right now.”
“Perfect.”
Gary made a show of checking his watch. “If there’s nothing else you’d like to talk about, I need to get back to work. Here’s my card. Let me know if there’s anything else I can help with.”
“Of course,” said Norman, taking the proffered card. He stood and walked to the door.
He walked back through the newsroom, glancing at Robin’s desk. Amelia was no longer there.
In the parking lot, she was leaning against his car. She had a manila folder and a notebook in her hand, which she held up as he approached.
“Got a few things for you,” she said. “A notebook with Robin’s investigation and a copy of a certain autopsy.”
“Are you serious?” said Norman, holding out a hand. “Can I see them?”
Amelia pulled them away, smiling. “What reason would you have to keep me with you if I just gave you all the information?”
“Give me them,” said Norman. “I know more about these kinds of things than you do. I know how to read them.”
“What?” said Amelia, raising an eyebrow. “All your expertise in steroids and your one-week crash course on investigation from Vince?”
Norman turned on the car and pulled out of the parking lot.
“I assume Robin found out about Vince in her research?”
“Gary’s watching,” said Amelia as they pulled out of the lot, ignoring the question.
As he pulled out of the parking lot, Norman looked back at the building. Gary was standing in the second floor window of his office, watching them.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Amelia. “The way he stares at everything bothers me.”
“Yeah,” said Norman, pulling out of the lot and onto the road.
“What did he tell you?”
“He wants to help, and he wants to be kept updated on the case. He said he would give me anything I needed in order to bring the killer to justice.”
“Is that so?” said Amelia.
“Why don’t you trust him?” said Norman.
“Robin hated him,” said Amelia. “She said he was a conniving piece of shit. She said that she once threatened to quit, and he told her that she would never get another job in journalism if she did that.”
“I can see that. He offered me access to their database and their crime reporter, but I’m not going to use either. I don’t want to give Gary any indication of what I’m doing.”
Amelia looked at him and smiled. “I suppose I don’t need to sell you on the evils of journalism.”
“No, you do not.”
Amelia looked out the window. “Where are we going?”
“My condo. We need to regroup and look through the files you got.”
Amelia looked like she was about to fight but then leaned against the window.
“Fine.”
Chapter 26
They stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hallway to Norman’s condo.
Amelia frowned as she reached the door. “I think someone’s in the apartment.”
Norman thought for a moment. He had told the real estate where the hidden key was. Maybe she already had someone looking at the place. Maybe it was Franklin, searching with his warrant.
He unlocked the door and stepped inside. The apartment seemed empty without the presence of the dogs running up and attacking him.
Voices floated into the hallway from the living room, followed by laughter. It sounded like a man and a woman. Norman frowned and walked into the living room. Amelia followed a few steps behind.
“Hello?” said Norman.
The two people sitting on the couch turned toward him.
Julia grinned at him and stood.
“Norman,” she said, “how nice of you to come home. I was coming back to grab my things, and I ran into a real estate agent. At first I thought you had already replaced me with some other woman, but she explained that you were selling the condo without even telling me. More importantly, where did the dogs go, Norman? Where are my babies?”
Norman crossed his arms. “It isn’t your condo, and they weren’t your dogs. You were working for me.”
Julia crossed her arms. “Is that why you never wanted to talk about what we were? Because you didn’t want to be in a relationship with someone you were paying? I thought you were a nice guy, but recently I’ve realized you’re just a selfish asshole.”
“Okay,” said the other person on the couch. He stood. “Let’s just calm down.”
Amelia frowned. “Harold?”
Harold Sweetwater looked at his stepdaughter. “Your mother and I are worried about you,” he said. “We got a call from school saying you weren’t there. Your mother told the school you were taking a few days off, but we couldn’t reach you. Did you turn your phone off?”
“I can take care of myself,” said Amelia.
“Come home,” said Harold pleadingly. “Your mother is worried about you. Leave all this nonsense to the real detectives. That applies to you as well, Mr. Green.”
Norman’s gaze had been locked onto Julia’s eyes, but at that moment he turned to look at Harold.
“What did you say?” said Norman.
“I think you should stop spending so much time with my stepdaughter and learn some manners,” said Harold. “You’ve been in over your head from the start. I did some research into you, and I can’t see why Robin ever hired you. You’ve never done a murder case before at all, let alone solved one. Who do you think you are that you can just waltz into this career and take a case like this?”
“I was hired to do it,” said Norman, “and I intend to finish this case.”
“You quit. Detective Franklin told me this morning when he was at the house. Then you’re back. Why? Does it have something to do with Amelia?”
“Fuck you,” said Amelia. “I’ll do whatever I want. You’re not my dad.”
Harold deflated. “Fine,” he said, “then don’t come home. Think about your mother. I’ve been trying, Amelia, I really have. I always thought of you as my daughter.”
Amelia crossed her arms. “Too bad. Get out. You shouldn’t even be here. How did you get in?”
“Julia let me in. I came looking for you.”
“Norman, tell him to leave.”
Norman looked from Amelia to the two people in front of him. “You need to leave,” he said, taking care to look at them in the eyes as he did so, “both of you.”
“Where am I supposed to go?” said Julia.
“Wherever you were last night. Not here. I’m sorry. I need to figure some things out before anything else.”
Harold cleared his throat and turned to his stepdaughter. “Amelia, I hope you’ve thought through what your mother’s going through. She’s lost two of her children. I’ve lost two people I cared very deeply about. You aren’t the only one in pain. When you feel read
y, come home. We won’t rush you. But be safe. For your mother.”
Harold grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch and walked past them, stopping momentarily at the door. He stopped with his hand on the handle in case something would change, but no one said anything. He opened the door and left.
Norman turned back to Julia. “You need to leave too.”
Amelia shifted awkwardly beside Norman as Julia leaned casually against the couch, as if to say she wasn’t going to move until they had a conversation.
“I did love you,” she said, “but there’s so much bullshit I have to deal with. You are so unsure about yourself, so scared of commitment, so convinced that the world is out to get you.”
Norman hesitated. “I just need to figure some things out. I’m sorry.”
“Where are the dogs?” said Julia. “You might have bought them, but I spent more time with them than you did. Don’t even pretend all the time we spent together didn’t mean anything. You know, when you got me that ring, I was surprised. At first I didn’t know what to think, but I accepted because no one has ever loved me that much. I convinced myself I’d always wanted to be with you. I had the ring that proved how much you loved me, and I knew what I wanted.”
“Julia, I didn’t mean any of that. I made a spur-of-the-moment decision that I should have spent more time on, and it bit me in the ass. “
Julia nodded. A tear ran down her face. “When you asked for the ring back, in that pathetic little voice, it felt like my entire soul was being ripped out of my chest. It wasn’t about the ring. It was about what it represented.” She paused and looked at the ground, then back at Norman. “I just want one thing, and I’ll be gone forever.”
Norman breathed through his nose. “What?”
Julia smirked with one corner of her mouth. “I want my dogs, Norman.”
Norman felt his blood pressure rising. “I can’t agree to that.”
“They’re as much mine as they are yours.”
“I got them, and I hired you to take care of them.”
“Where are they, Norman?” said Julia, talking to him like he was an idiot. “Those dogs know me better than you.”
“I paid you to take care of them. Please leave. I’m begging you. I can’t deal with this right now. I’ll call the cops if you don’t leave.”
“Is that really what you want to do? Give Franklin another reason to come here?”
Norman took a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders. “Julia, I’m asking you as a friend, please leave. This isn’t the right time.”
Julia seemed to relax as well. “Then when is the right time, Norman?”
“Not now.”
Julia sighed. “Tell me where the dogs are, Norman? I want to see them.”
Norman thought for a long moment. “They’re at my uncle’s place in Milton,” he said. “I’ll give you the address and let them know that you’re coming.”
Julia relaxed and smiled. “Thank you, Norman.”
She walked to the front door.
Norman turned to her as she grabbed the handle. “Can we go back?”
Julia turned back. “What?”
“It might seem like an eternity ago, but it was only a few days. Is there any way we go back to that? To just … that?”
Julia looked down at the door handle and shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
She shot Norman a smile then pulled open the door. Then she was gone.
Norman wiped his face to make sure that none of his anxiety had leaked out of his eyes then turned to Amelia, who was grinning from ear to ear. She had been sitting on the couch with the folder in her arms for the duration of the conversation.
“That was by far,” she said with a smile, “the weirdest custody battle I’ve ever seen.”
Chapter 27
The kitchen had been converted into a makeshift investigation room. A white wall that divided the kitchen from the living room had been emptied and the antique maps that had been hanging there moved into the extra bedroom. Norman tested that the marker he was using could be wiped off the wall before doing anything more than a dot in the corner.
“Okay,” he said, standing back and looking at Amelia, who was sitting on one of the stools beside the counter and sipping a latte. “Let’s do this.”
Amelia smiled. “I’ve always wanted a reason to make one of those boards with strings connecting all the suspects.”
Norman smiled. “Today your dream is going to come true. We don’t have string, though, unless we go to the store.”
Amelia reached into her pocket and threw a ball of string at him. “I came prepared. I have tacks too, if you need them.”
Norman grabbed the string. “You realize that you’re going to need to show me what’s in those files.”
“Do I?”
“We won’t be able to solve any of this unless we have all the facts.”
Amelia thought for a moment then nodded. “If you say so.”
Norman handed her his notepad from his shirt pocket. “Can you get to work on putting all the information I have so far up on the wall? I’ll read through the things you got from Robin’s desk.”
Amelia nodded and took the notepad. “Can you grab the crime report from Joel’s murder as well?”
Norman frowned. “How do you know I have that?”
Amelia smirked. “You were talking about your connection to the police force. I assumed that the first thing you would have done was get the police report from Joel’s murder. Am I wrong?”
“No.” Norman walked out of the room and came back with a small office box filled with the information he had gotten about Joel’s murder. “Here,” he said.
While Amelia got to work getting everything they had so far onto the wall, Norman read through the autopsy report. Joel had overdosed on a prescription medicine he had been given by a licensed doctor. He had taken almost a month’s worth of pills at once. They were still inside his stomach during the autopsy. Beyond that, there was nothing out of the ordinary in the files that Norman could see.
He made notes on everything in the file on cue cards and put them on the wall. They continued setting up the wall until night fell.
“Where are Robin’s notes?” said Norman while Amelia was staring at the wall, as though she was staring at the million pieces of a puzzle and trying to see how they fight together.
“By the front door,” said Amelia absentmindedly, “by my shoes.”
“Thanks,” said Norman.
Amelia nodded. She was staring at the wall, as though she could see her entire life laid out before her.
Norman left her and walked to the front door. As he picked up the notebook from inside Amelia’s jacket, he heard a single sob from the kitchen. He turned back, wondering if he’d imagined it. Then he heard another strangled sob, breaking through, as though Amelia had been trying to hold it back to look tough.
Norman slowly walked back to the kitchen, notebook in hand. “Amelia,” he said, “are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” said Amelia, rubbing her eyes. “Let’s get to the bottom of this.”
Norman placed Robin’s notes on the counter and walked up to her.
“Amelia,” he said, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Forget about it.” Amelia turned away from him.
Norman reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” said Amelia, shrugging off his hand. “Don’t touch me.”
Norman stood back a few feet, unsure what to do. Amelia was facing away from him, staring at the counter. They stood that way for a few long moments, the only sounds coming from the refrigerator and the howling wind.
“Where did they go, Norman?” said Amelia softly.
Norman frowned. He went to comfort her, then his hand stopped, suspended in the air. He looked around the kitchen, with its modern decor and counters, the wall covered in pictures of the crimes that had taken her siblings’ lives.
“What do you mean?” he
said, taking a single step toward her.
Amelia leaned over the counter. “I don’t know who my father is,” she said. “All I know is that he’s alive somewhere.”
Norman stopped in his tracks. He had assumed that the father of the three Sweetwater kids was dead.
“Sometimes I wonder,” said Amelia, “whether he thinks about us at all. He left when I was two. I don’t have any memories of him. My mother refused to talk about him, but Robin told me enough that I got the idea. Does he know his children are dead? Murdered? Even if he did know, would he care?”
“I’m sorry,” said Norman.
Amelia took a deep breath and turned toward Norman. Her face was covered in tears.
“Where did they go, Norman? Robin and Joel were here just a week ago. Last Saturday I watched a movie with Joel and said goodnight to Robin. Where did they go?”
“I don’t know.”
He pulled her into a hug. She cried into his shoulder, letting everything she felt soak into his shirt. As Norman held her close and patted her back, she kept repeating the same thing over and over again.
“Where did they go, Norman? Where did they go?”
Chapter 28
Amelia fell asleep on the couch in the living room, tossing and turning. Norman set up a pillow below her head and put a blanket on her, careful not to wake her up.
As quietly as he could, he receded into the kitchen and closed the door to the living room. He opened a beer and sipped it as he stared at the wall in front of him. It was covered in notes, photographs, and documents.
Something was bothering him. He had considered looking into the biological father of the Sweetwater children, but if they hadn’t had any contact in over a decade and a half, he didn’t see the point. He pushed that possibility aside.
He looked through the files again as he sipped the beer. He didn’t know what it was, but he kept gravitating back to the autopsy. Something about it bothered him. He placed the autopsy report to one side.
As he was looking through the crime scene pictures, one picture stood out, although he couldn’t articulate why. It was a picture taken by police before Joel’s body had been moved from the bathroom floor. Joel was lying face down in a puddle of his own spit and bile. Something about the picture bothered Norman.