Hindsight

by Ronald Kelly

  "Cindy, I appreciate your help in closing these cases," Upchurch said, shaking the girl's hand. "And so does the Bureau. You did a great service, especially for the parents of all those poor girls."

  "I'd like to say it was my pleasure, Agent Upchurch," she replied, "but, honestly, I can't. There was no pleasure to it at all."

  "Of course not," he said. "But like I said, we sincerely thank you for what you did."

  Cindy turned and regarded the Hungarian doctor. "Doctor?"

  Polyak embraced her tightly, his eyes tearing. "You know how we talked of devils, Fräulein? Well, there are angels as well. I doubted that once, but you made me a believer."

  "I'm no angel," she whispered. "I'm just a girl with a gift."

  "A gift from God," he assured her, then stepped away.

  Clay glanced around. "Where are Miss Sandra and Agent Moore?"

  Suddenly, a peculiar expression crossed Cindy's face. "Will you gentlemen excuse me? I've got to go to the bathroom."

  Quickly, she left the railroad platform and made her way into the long structure of the train depot. She passed the rest rooms and emerged from the door at the opposite side of the lobby. Cindy stepped onto the boards of the building's long front porch and turned to her right.

  There, at the far end, next to some crates and luggage, Nathan Moore had his wife cornered. The look of terror in her pretty face told Cindy that he had found out about her most recent pregnancy.

  "So when were you gonna tell me about it, huh?" he demanded, his massive frame dwarfing Sandra's small stature. "Didn't you think I had a right to know?"

  "Of course, dear," she said in a timid voice. "I… I just wasn't a hundred percent sure that I actually was, that's all."

  Moore's tiny eyes darkened and he blew cigarette smoke from his nostrils. "You know very well that I don't want any kids."

  "There's nothing we can do about it now."

  He took a lumbering step forward. "I can take care of it… the same way as last time."

  Sandra cowered between two stacks of crates. "Please, Nathan… don't hurt me. I want these babies. I really do."

  "Babies?" Moore's face reddened in rage. "I told you I didn't want children, Sandra." He took the cigarette from his thin lips and brought it up to her face. "I warned you before, but apparently you didn't get the message."

  The woman with the auburn hair flinched, waiting for the sensation of burning pain… but it never came.

  Instead, the big man's eyes widened and he shook his hand, sending the cigarette to the floorboards of the depot platform. He stared at the back of his hand and saw the flesh grow pink and pucker. A wisp of blue smoke drifted from the hole in his hand as the circular wound first turned crimson red and then blackened.

  "Leave her alone," warned a voice from behind him.

  Moore turned to find Cindy standing several yards away. "This ain't none of your damn business, girl!"

  The sixteen-year-old's eyes were stone cold. "I'm making it my business."

  The FBI agent took a single step toward her and then began to scream. Half a dozen burns surfaced across his body, one after another, each the size and shape of a cigarette butt. He dropped to his knees, his breath hissing between his clenched teeth.

  Cindy walked over and knelt before him. "Listen to me and listen good. You will not raise a hand to your wife or your two children. And you'll not take a cigarette to them either. If you do, it will come back to you tenfold. Believe me, it will. I've already planted the seed inside you. If you suffer because of it, you only have yourself to blame."

  The girl heard footsteps behind her and then her father's voice rang out. "Cindy… what's going on here?"

  "Just having a heart-to-heart talk with Agent Moore here," she said, standing up. "Isn't that right?"

  Grudgingly, the big man nodded and, painfully, rose to his feet. He glanced over his shoulder at this frightened wife. Except that she was no longer intimidated by him. Her eyes were stern as she regarded him. He knew then that his hold on her was gone. If anyone needed to watch their step now, it was him.

  Fifteen minutes later, the train headed for Tennessee pulled out of the Millersville station. Cindy waved at them all from her window, then settled back in her seat with a sigh.

  "Glad to be getting back home?" her father asked her.

  "You better believe it," she told him. Cindy sat there quietly for a long moment. "Pappy?"

  "Yes, Pumpkin?"

  "Do you think I could… you know… keep on doing this?"

  "Doing what?" he asked, although he knew exactly what she meant.

  "You know, helping folks," she said. "Like I did Agent Upchurch and all those families who suffered because of Bully Hanson's evil ways."

  Clay was amazed. "And you would actually want to do it? I know how hard this was on you."

  "Yes… but it was also extremely satisfying. Almost like I was called to do it, the way some men are called to preach."

  Clay shrugged and tipped his hat over his eyes, intending to get a little shut-eye on the long trip home. "I reckon the police could use a girl like you every now and then."

  Cindy stared out the window at the lush green countryside rushing past her. She smiled at her reflection in the pane of glass, which appeared more woman than child. If they call me, then I'll come, she thought to herself. After all, how can the devils get their just dues if the angels sit on sidelines and do nothing?