Maddie Ann s Playground

by Mackenzie Drew

  “You know, Cindy, I'm so tired of hearing your crap. You’re miserable and you act as if you hate me and everybody else, and I’m through putting up with it. You act as if Jennifer's problem is my fault. What the hell did I do wrong?” When she presented a cold shoulder, he stormed out of the room.

  The pain in his voice tugged at her heartstrings. She understood why they fought. Since Jennifer’s ordeal with the cemetery, they grew apart because of their differences. Cindy wanted to take her daughter’s disappearance in her own hands, but the police instructed her and Steve to let them handle it. But still, she couldn’t sit by day after day without searching, without knowing something. Regardless what Steve or the authorities said, she would find her daughter without any help. Tears slid down her cheeks. It scared the hell out of her to think about filing for divorce. If the bickering didn’t stop between them, what other choice would she have?

  Wiping the tears from her face, Cindy forced a smile and went into the living room. As usual, Steve sat in his chair watching ESPN with his shoes and socks off. Taking a seat across from him, she said, “I’m sorry, Steve. We need a break from the fighting and from this God-forsaken house. Since I don’t want to cook this evening, how about we go grab some hamburgers?”

  Steve looked straight ahead, pretending not to hear her.

  Again, she asked, “Do you want to or not? We have to eat.”

  He shifted his gaze and said, “Fine, where to?”

  She took the liberty of choosing where to go. “How about McDonald’s,” she asked, tilting her head and picking at the fabric on the couch. “We haven’t eaten there in a while.” Cindy picked up his shoes and handed them to him. “We either do this or you can cook yourself something to eat.”

  “Fine,” he said.

  “Okay, give me a sec to get my shoes and my purse and I’ll meet you in the car.”

  ***

  The next morning, Jake shoved open the double doors of the police station. With files in both hands, he pitched them on Tommy's desk.

  “Hey, what is wrong with you?” Tom asked, with a frown across his face.

  “That woman is a monster. I'd like to hold her head underwater with a bunch of hungry sharks. Man is she stupid. Hell, she thinks I'm stupid.”

  Detective Brown couldn’t figure out whom he referred to, but whoever he meant, Jake's fury held solid. “Who the hell might I ask are you talking about? And sit down before you wear out the floor and fall into the basement.”

  Jake had a real crazy look in his eyes, like at any given moment he could kill the next person who crossed his path. Becoming angry on the job did not show professionalism, and Jake acted out of control. “I’m talking about Barbara Barton. She made me sick with her lies. She had no concern for her kid. She tried to flirt with me. I’m going to nail her and enjoy doing it. She had something to do with Claire's death and that’s what makes me sick. At the least, she knows where Claire's body is. But anyway, she’ll never see the light of day again as long as I have anything to do with it,” Jake roared.

  Tom knew the entire case disrupted their lives both in and outside the office. “Calm down, Jake. Getting all ticked off won't solve anything. We’ll get her, but meanwhile, I want you to go over to the high school and talk to Jennifer and Claire's friends. Talk to the teachers to see if they may have overheard conversations about this party on Halloween. Information is the only thing we have right now. I can’t express this enough—we’ve got to hit this hard,” Tom stressed.

  Jake flopped into a desk chair and gave up. “I apologize for my outburst. I'm just sick to death of people lying to me,” he said shaking his head. “Anyway, I’ll see what I can find out. Oh, before I forget, I thought I overheard Sergeant Baker say that they were going out to search the cemetery until they find Claire Barton’s body.”

  “Yeah, they’re going in the morning with cadaver dogs and if they don’t come up something then they’re using bulldozers to clear away the area where they found her blood and the weapon,” Tom replied with a grin. As long as the person in charge of the operation respected their investigation, he had no problems with it. “I wouldn't miss it for the world. I wonder what answers will surface?”

  Shrugging at Tom, Jake left the office, heading for the school.

  ***

  “Hey, let me speak to Ernie, please,” Barb said into her cell. A little kid hollered 'Grandpa' in her ear.

  As her luck would have it, while waiting for Ernie to answer, Detective Jake Kelly in his fancy black car stopped right beside her at the intersection. He had his dark-tinted driver's side window down, and she caught him staring at her. Swallowing heavily, she waved with the most delicious grin she could muster plastered across her face. Ducking behind her sunglasses, she pretended not to notice which direction he went. He turned right and she gunned it left when the arrow turned green. Barbara couldn't waste time thinking about that gorgeous cop. Revenge stirred through her devious mind.

  “Yeah, this is Ernie.”

  “Hey, Ernie, it’s me—Barb.”

  “Well, if it isn’t old Barbie. How you doin'?”

  Barbara had no choice but to drag her good old friend Ernie into the picture. He owed her a favor and he didn’t know the magnitude of it.

  “Not so good, Ernie. I don’t know if you heard yet, but Claire passed away,” she answered faintly, sniffing. The feelings of sadness and dread swamped her all again, and she took full advantage of them.

  “Yes, I’m so sorry, Barb. I heard about it on the news. How are you and Mike getting through it?” he asked.

  “Well, it hasn't been easy. You’ll never believe this one, but the police think that we had something to do with her death. How crazy is that?” She giggled with a nervous tone and then paused for a brief second.

  “Barb, now even I know better. I swear those people need their heads examined if they think you could do something as horrible as that. You and Mike are two of the best parents I know. That’s not right,” he remarked.

  “I need to talk to you, Ernie, but not over the cell phone. It’s important,” she said. When he hesitated, she blurted, “I know who did this. You have to help me. You owe me one, remember?”

  “Well, you know where to find me. Come on up the driveway when you get here. I'll go open the gate right now.”

  Shutting the phone, a smile danced at the corner of her mouth. Burning the Craven’s home would shake them Barbara decided as she wheeled the car south to Ernie’s to set things in motion. They'd pay. Oh, they'd pay like she did.

  She hoped she wasn't about to embark on the biggest disaster she ever faced and didn’t know it. She seldom made a mistake, but when she did, it turned out a huge ordeal. She'd have to take care with the details of this caper, and destroy any trace of her involvement. Trouble became her middle name, and she took pleasure in seeing others suffer like she did.

  She got off on this kind of stuff like a high or a fix—transferring all her bad feelings to somebody else, anybody else, then feeling elated that they had it worse than she did. People feared her and no one wanted to get on her bad side. She used secrets like deadly weapons and she could bring a man to his knees, having done that many times over.

  Over the years, Barb managed to stash a good deal of Mike's cash in an offshore account in case of emergencies. To her, she saw this as an emergency. She knew how to manipulate bank accounts from her bank teller days, and had once helped Ernie, an old high school acquaintance who used to own a pawnshop, hide some of his illegal assets from an IRS audit. Barbara gained the respect of others, but mostly because no one wanted to piss her off.

  She always managed to stay one step ahead from the dark side by covering her own tracks, well. Driving down Ernie’s driveway, she saw him sitting on his lawn, taking in the watery November sunshine. He hadn't changed much in five years. The same grizzled crew cut complemented his skinny little Italian body.

  “Hey, Barbie,” he yelled from the yard.

  Getting out of the car, she
waved with one hand, while toting a notepad in the other. “It’s gorgeous out here,” she said, her head swiveling to take in the scenery. Two children raced around the side of the house to the backyard.

  “Oh, I know it. It is beautiful. This is where I spend most afternoons, weather permitting—sitting right here, enjoying my grandchildren.” His dark eyes twinkled at her as he winked.

  Ernie had a cozy place, tucked back into a wooded area sheltering his privacy from prying neighbors. The house appeared in descent shape—a typical Cape Cod with a country-style porch littered with white wicker furniture. Trees lined both sides of the property, up and down the driveway. A big oak tree standing in the front yard had a tire swing hanging from a branch. Sitting down in a chair, she took note of two freshly poured glasses of Long Island iced tea on the table in front of them. He knows me well. She raised an eyebrow and handed a piece of paper to him.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “Well, this is what I mentioned on the phone. I need you to do this for me, and trust me, there’s a big wad of dough in it for you,” she said, smiling and taking a huge swig of the ice-cold booze. “When I leave here, you will destroy that piece of paper.”

  Reading over the instructions, a puzzled looked blanketed his face. “Uh…Barb, this is a big deal. Are you sure this is something you want to do?” he asked, gulping.

  “Oh, absolutely, and you're my man. How bad do you want our little arrangement to stay a secret?” She took another giant swallow. Man that hits the spot. “But, you have to make it look like an accident; nothing must point back to me. Nothing,” she stressed.

  Rubbing his finger over his eyebrow, he asked, “How soon?

  “Yesterday,” she replied, chuckling.

  “I'm not too thrilled about any of this. With you, something always goes wrong. The stress from our last scheme gave my wife a heart attack. If you screw this one up, you're going to land both of us in prison. But what can I do, considering the 'favor' I owe you?”

  Reaching into her purse, she pulled out an envelope filled with $100 bills she knew would hold his attention. He looked like he needed the job. “Listen—there’s no reason to call me afterward; I’ll know when the job's finished. After that, forget you ever knew me,” Barbara explained. “Here's $10K with an extra $50K I’ll mail to the P.O. Box on that paper within one week. Remember the combination and destroy it.”

  “Why do I have to wait a week? I need money now, woman. You've got all my assets tied up in such red tape, I'm not sure I'll ever straighten it out.” He chewed at his lower lip.

  “I need a week to make sure it hits the papers. It's my way or no way, Honey.” He sat there looking stupefied at her as she drained her drink. “I'll un-hide all your funds and call the IRS this afternoon, I swear. You can’t prove I knew a thing, but I don't care if I go to prison, anyway. My life is over with Claire gone. I'll take my l'il ol' money and….”

  She made to rise, but he stopped her with a hand to her arm.

  “Wait, Barbie. Let me explain. I don’t want to wind up back in trouble with the IRS, because this time, I know they’ll hang me for sure. I'll lose this land and everything I've worked so hard for my entire life. And sure, the money is tempting; God knows I need it. I just don’t think I can do what you've asked of me morally. I've done some low things in my life, but not murder. Please understand,” he begged. “Don't do this. This is bad even for you.”

  Insulted by his rejection, she slid the money back into her purse. How could he say no, after what she had done for him in the past? He didn't think she'd follow through on her threat to call the IRS, did he? “Ernie, you’ve got to do this for me. You owe me, big time. I can’t let the Cravens’ get away with what they've done to my family. For God sakes, I'll sleep with you if you want. You used to beg me for sexual favors all through high school; you can finally have your wish. This is for Claire, don’t you see? If not for me, do it for my daughter.”

  “How could you put that filth in the same mouth that speaks your daughter's name?” He looked a bit rattled. “Please don’t ask me to do something this cruel in the name of a little girl who loathed cruelty. Friends don't ask favors like this of each other. These are human lives you’re playing with, and I just couldn’t live, knowing I did something like this,” he begged for her mercy. “If you turn me in, then so be it, but be aware you'll be destroying me. And I'll not go quietly,” he threatened.

  Barb stoked her anger like a banked fire. No one had ever turned her down for anything. She didn’t plan to accept this defeat. “Fine, then; just fine. Don’t ask for my services in the future. And remember, you still owe me. Now it's doubled.”

  Storming away from him, she stomped to her car. Opening the door and slamming down in the seat, she backed out of the driveway like a maniac. Ernie never moved from his spot, but sat staring as she drove out of sight.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Claire fisted the sleepiness from her eyes and sat up. She gazed around to check out her surroundings, realizing she lay in a tunnel packed with dirt walls. Dim flickering light bulbs hung from the ceiling at long intervals, bathing the space in shadows. She didn’t recall what happened after she'd shoved Jennifer through the crack in the gates. Other than someone tossing her down into darkness and smacking the packed dirt. She'd managed to evict Jennifer from the cemetery, but the black souls took Claire prisoner once again. As long as her soul remained imprisoned in the cemetery, Jennifer would have to make it home on her own.

  She sensed the evil intent holding her captive by the creepy vibes she felt. Forcing herself to her feet, she brushed off the loose dirt and stumbled down the tunnel. She kept her eyes peeled for any predators or ghostly fiends. Continuing to ease her way by taking tiny steps, a shaft of light up ahead beckoned.

  Tiptoeing to the glow she'd seen from the opposite end of the tunnel, it surprised her to see sunlight streaming through an irregular hole in the dirt wall. She scrambled her skinny body through, scraping her skin on the rough rocks. A long, gentle slope led her to the desolate land above. Taking her chances, she rushed across the packed dirt, and out to freedom. The light hit her face. A loud rumble came from the tunnel beneath her feet.

  Earthquake, she thought. Too scared to look back, she broke into a run, seeking safety. The wind caught her hair as she darted through the open field inside the cemetery. Stumbling over a loose clod, she landed on her face in the dirt. The ground began to shake. The sound of a freight train ripped through the land, loud enough to set her teeth on edge. As she stood up, the earth under her feet cracked open wide.

  Loose dirt, trees, headstones, and the black wrought iron fence sank into the pit of darkness she'd barely escaped. The earth rumbled and tore, as a construction crew and a bulldozer set about systematically razing everything in sight. Claire stood in awe watching it happen. The crew stacked the exhumed coffins on one side of the field getting them ready for the transfer to the new cemetery on the other side of town. The earth rumbled anew beneath her feet. The sound of a diesel engine blared in her ears. They almost destroyed the cemetery! She feared not only for her own safety, but for those four crewmembers as well.

  If she couldn't get their attention, she feared their doom. Because of the noise and the chaos, those four men didn't even realize the earth had opened, ready to swallow them whole. As her eyes wandered away from the mess they made, she gazed around for Maddie Ann. No ghosts stood beside her in the ruined graveyard. She only heard the screams from the construction equipment as she watched the earth give way. It felt as though something transported her to a foreign planet. The bright sun beat down on her transparent body, warming her soul, but as she took two steps toward the now defunct gates, a tornado-like wind began to swirl around her feet.

  Her first instinct told her to run from the danger. But if she ran the opposite way, she’d never make it out of the graveyard. She had the perfect opportunity to escape. Claire had to get out; otherwise, Maddie Ann controlled her for eternity. She sto
pped fighting the harsh wind and stood with balled fists. Her mind filled with fury, because freedom awaited her inches away and she couldn’t reach it. The force of the whirlwind came at her with heavy strength and her small frame couldn’t withstand it.

  With all her strength, Claire tried to soar into the open sky, but it was impossible. The windstorm’s force penned her feet to the ground and wouldn’t let go. She squirmed and wiggled, but the wind refused to let up. The invisible force locked around her ineffectual legs, swirling upward on her body.

  ***

  “Detective Brown, Sergeant Baker wanted me to let you know he already sent Carter with a four-man crew and a bulldozer out to Old Creek Cemetery. So tell your boys it’s on for today, not tomorrow as planned,” the officer explained, poking his nose in Tom's office.

  Furious to learn about the sudden change, Tom looked at his watch. It was nearly mid-afternoon. He stormed out of his office in search of Sergeant Baker. He needed to be there to supervise preserving his crime scene. After a few minutes of not finding Baker anywhere in the building, he threw up his hands in disgust.