Pages of the Past (Bellingwood Book 9)

by Muir, Diane Greenwood

  "It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't happening right in front of me."

  "We're taking off," he said.

  "Who's we?"

  "I'm taking Stephanie and Kayla home."

  Polly looked at him quizzically.

  "Her car is in the shop."

  "Okay?"

  "No big deal, just a few things she had to put off before."

  "Jeff?"

  He bent over her desk and said in an undertone, "You be quiet and don't give me any trouble. You've done more than this for people."

  "Only if you stop giving me trouble about what I do."

  "Deal. We'll be in tomorrow morning after taking Kayla to school."

  Polly nodded and got up to follow him out of the office. She wondered how long Sylvie was staying tonight. When she got to the kitchen, Sylvie and Rachel were gone and the lights were turned off. She ran up the back steps and into the apartment. Jessie and Rebecca were watching "Ghostbusters" in the media room.

  "What the heck time is it?" Polly asked.

  Jessie looked up. "Hi Polly. I came home a few minutes early. There wasn't much going on. Henry told me to lock up and leave. He said he'd be here before long."

  "It's empty around here and it feels strange," Polly said. "Are you spending the evening with your mom, Rebecca?"

  "Evelyn said she'd be awake six thirty. Is that okay?"

  "Sure."

  "Is everything okay, Polly?" Jessie asked.

  "It feels strange here today. Everyone is where should be, but there's usually more activity. What do you think about pizza tonight? I could order it and have Henry pick up."

  They both nodded and turned back to the television. Polly walked into the kitchen and called Henry.

  "Hey sweet stuff, what's up?" he asked.

  "Where are you?"

  "I'm about twenty minutes out. What do you need?"

  "Can you pick up pizza if I call it in? It might be a few minutes. I need to check with everyone over on the other side."

  "Sure. Meet you in the kitchen downstairs?"

  "Thanks. I'll see you later."

  "Are you okay? You sound weird."

  "I feel upside down. Like something's missing. People left today and no one said good-bye."

  "You don't think they're upset at you, do you?"

  "No, that's not it. I just feel a little invisible."

  "You aren't that. And when I get home, I'll touch you all over and make sure that all of you is still there."

  "Stop that," she whispered. "There are kids in the room."

  "No one is here with me."

  "I'm hanging up now. I have to order pizza. You be good."

  Polly headed for the front door. There were a lot of steps in this place. "I'm going over to the addition to get pizza orders," she called out, knowing that neither of the girls really cared whether she was gone or not. They were engrossed in the movie.

  She placed the pizza order and told everyone when they could meet in the kitchen, then went in and turned the lights back on, set the table, and sat down to wait.

  By the time Henry came in the back door, she had gone through the refrigerator and found leftover cake. Sylvie left presents on purpose for those who were always foraging. There was enough for everyone and Polly also found two opened containers of ice cream. That would do.

  Henry helped her set the pizzas out on the prep table and then kissed her, long and deep.

  "What's that for?" she gasped.

  "You seem like you need it."

  "I'll always take it, but I don't think I need it."

  "Well, I do." He kissed her again and when he broke away, she stepped back, breathing heavily.

  "You still do that to me," she said. "I don't care how long we've been together. You still wipe me out when you kiss me like that."

  "Good. Now round up our guests and I'll get the girls upstairs. I have some things I need to drop on my desk. Are the dogs okay?"

  "I think so." Polly shook her head. "I still feel dazed, but thank you."

  He winked at her and as she stood in the middle of the kitchen, she realized that her heart might be racing, but her feet weren't moving.

  ~~~

  Henry, Polly, Helen, Lydia and Aaron were still at the table in the kitchen. Rebecca had gone back to her mother's room for the evening and Jessie wanted to spend time talking to her friend in Colorado on Facebook.

  Aaron looked at his phone and said, "I need to make a phone call. Might I use your offices, Polly?"

  "Sure," she said, waving that way. "Then are you going to finally tell us what has been happening?"

  He looked at her in confusion, gave a quick shake of his head, and walked away.

  "What was that?" she asked.

  "Who knows," Helen responded.

  Lydia jumped up. "I'm nervous about this call he's making, so let's clean up." She picked up the rest of the paper plates and took them to the trash can. Within minutes the kitchen was spotless.

  "Do you want to come upstairs?" Polly asked. "Jessie's in her room and it's much more comfortable than sitting around down here."

  "Sure," Helen said. "I've had enough napping and sitting by myself today."

  Lydia gave her a look.

  "Well, haven't you had enough of sitting by myself with me today?" Helen asked with a laugh. "We've played cards and talked about family issues for far too long."

  "Go on upstairs with Henry," Polly said. "I'll tell Aaron what we're doing."

  Henry gave a cough as she turned to leave the kitchen.

  "What?" she asked.

  "You aren't fooling me."

  She waggled her fingers at him. "Go away. Go upstairs and leave me alone. I'll be right there." Polly left the kitchen and headed for the office where she found Aaron sitting at Stephanie's desk with his head in his hands.

  "Aaron?"

  He looked up, his face drawn, his eyes sad.

  "Are you okay?"

  "No," he said, putting the phone down on the desk in front of him. "I just ruined several good men's careers and if this isn't handled well from here on out, twenty innocent women may have their lives turned upside down in the next week. I can only pray that he's a better man than he threatens."

  "Sutton?"

  He nodded.

  "Is he responsible for killing your friend and the attempt on Helen's life?"

  "He is. He hired people to do his dirty work, but he's behind it. The man was a fool. If he had left public life before this all came to a head, he would have been able to keep most everything together, but because he craved attention and couldn't imagine any life other than what he had built, he's lost it all."

  "Are you going to tell me about this?"

  He gave her a wry grin. "Do I have a choice?"

  "Sure you do, but then you'll have to live knowing that every single time you see me, I'll be wondering why you wouldn't tell me. And every time I call you on the phone, you'll wonder if I'm going to ask you about it one more time. Is that what you want in our relationship?"

  Aaron smiled at her. "I understand why your husband and my wife love you so much." He stood up and came around the desk, pulling her into a hug. "You insist on being up front about everything, don't you?"

  "Well, I don't really need to know about your bathroom habits or your sex life."

  "Polly!" he said, stepping away from her.

  She giggled. "I said I don't need to know those things. Come on!"

  "I think I can tell you my story now. Are you going to make me tell it several times or can I tell my wife at the same time."

  "They're all upstairs in our apartment." She started out of the office. "Oh! Can you take Lydia home now or is there still a threat out there?"

  Aaron winked at her. "The threat has passed, but we're here. Maybe we'll take you up on your hospitality one more night. It's good for her to not have to think about all of the mundane things that happen in our home. It's like a mini vacation."

  "That's fine with me," Polly said. "Come o
n up and we'll hear all about your evil nemesis from Dixieland."

  Henry, Lydia and Helen were settled in the media room watching television. Polly nodded for Aaron to join them and then knocked on Jessie's door.

  "Come in?"

  "Hey," Polly said.

  Jessie was propped up in her bed, wearing a flannel nightgown and had her tablet propped up on her belly.

  "Are you comfy? Do you need anything?"

  "No, I'm good. Thanks."

  "We're in the media room, so you're free to come and go in here without getting all dressed up. I don't know how long they'll be here, but let me know if you need anything."

  "It's pretty much just me and the bathroom these days," Jessie said. "I know I have a few more weeks, but I'm going to be glad when this baby is here."

  "I'm sure you will. Have a good night."

  "Thanks for everything, Polly."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Luke had been weaving in and out of Polly's legs from the moment she walked in the door. She picked him up and walked into the dining room.

  "Do you want anything from the kitchen?" she asked. There were no positive responses, so she carried the cat with her and took an open space beside Henry. He waited for her to settle in, then patted his leg for Han to jump up and sit on his lap.

  Aaron sat back in his chair, scratched his head, then shut his eyes.

  "What do I have to do to make him talk?" Polly asked Lydia.

  Lydia grinned. "I don't know. We could try torture."

  "No torture. You two aren't safe to be around," Aaron said, sitting upright. He turned to his sister. "I'm going to tell this story, but if I leave something out, you'll intervene. Right?"

  She leaned forward and patted his knee. "It's like we grew up together."

  He took a deep breath and said, "Albert Cook and I were on patrol one night when we got a call. My sister had called the precinct looking for me. She had an emergency at a children's shelter where she spent her free time and they needed the police."

  "I needed you. I didn't need the police," Helen interrupted.

  Aaron gave her a look. "Three sentences is all it took. Hush."

  She rolled her eyes and gestured for him to continue.

  "I was just a rookie, barely six months in. When we got to the shelter, Helen took me into her office where there was a young girl, not even thirteen years old. She was a mess. She was bloody and had been beaten pretty badly. When she saw my uniform, she panicked."

  "I think it was your partner, not you," Helen said.

  He scowled at her. "It was the uniform. Her name was Melody. I remember that much. When Helen finally convinced her that I wasn't just any cop, but that I was her younger brother, Melody started to talk. She told me things that I didn't want to know. About powerful men in Atlanta who liked little girls. The names she gave me that night were names of men in politics and in local business.

  "I didn't want to hear what she said. In fact, I would have been glad to call her a liar, but Helen wouldn't let me. Especially when Melody told me that she had escaped from a house where she and quite a few other girls were kept. She said that some of the girls came from other places. They transferred the girls around, based on their age and experience."

  "How long had this been going on?" Polly asked.

  "About ten years. The thing is, the FBI knew about it and so did many in the police force. They'd been investigating this group of men, but hadn't been able to get anyone to identify the culprits. I called my buddy, Digger, that night. I didn't know who to trust, but I knew him. That's when I found out about the investigation. I was young and naive. If it hadn't been for Albert, I would have probably gone out waving a gun, disrupting the whole world and generally causing havoc. I was furious and disgusted and shaken to my core. Some of the men she named were people I respected.

  "That night we raided the first house. I was so fired up by what I'd heard that I insisted Digger let me go along. He knew better than to refuse me. He knew I needed to fix it.

  "There were eight girls living there - all under the age of fifteen. They each had a room and were..." Aaron stopped talking and then lowered his voice. "I don't want to upset Jessie. The girls were chained up in their rooms, only to be released when it was time for them to be used by a member of the circle. In each closet there was a port-a-potty. During the day, an armed guard watched as they cleaned their rooms, cleaned themselves, ate something - usually very little - and prepared themselves for more hell. Sometimes the men came after work, sometimes they showed up in the morning before going to work. It didn't matter when one would arrive, whichever girl he wanted, he took her."

  Polly gulped and huddled closer to Henry.

  Aaron's voice had gone flat in his recitation of the story. His eyes narrowed to slits and his fists clenched the arms of the chair.

  "Over the next week, we found all of the houses. The girls were lifeless. They'd given up. One of the saddest things to see was their keepsakes – one girl had a rag doll tucked under her mattress. There were so many tear stains on that doll's body, it broke my heart. But she wouldn't leave without it. We called Helen and she organized care - both physical and psychiatric. She was the only person I trusted and I wasn't going to let this go to anyone."

  Helen nodded, her eyes filled with pain for her brother. "I'd been working with homeless kids. I knew what some of those kids lived through before they got to the shelter, but poor Aaron wasn't prepared for the trauma."

  "There's no way to prepare for that," he said. "We arrested as many men as we could. Asking those girls to identify their abusers was the hardest thing I'd ever done. Here I thought we'd rescued them, but then we exposed them again. I felt like we were betraying their trust. Helen and Albert tried to make me see that for most of the girls, this was a closure that would help them heal."

  "Once that part of the investigation was underway, we realized that this couldn't have happened without the help of others who weren't directly involved with the abuse. There were policemen who looked the other way. And in the beginnings of the investigation some of them tried to trip us up by covering over evidence. There were young cops, my age, who didn't know any better and had gotten caught in the whole mess because their partners were receiving payoffs. In a system that big, when you've only been around for a few months, who are you to say what's tradition and what's been acceptable."

  Lydia growled. "You do the right thing."

  "I'd want to hope so," Aaron said. "But I was pretty naive. If Albert had been taking hush money and wanted me to look the other way, I might not have asked the right questions. I just can't be that rigid about what they did."

  Polly was curious. "How does Price Sutton fit into this?"

  "He worked in the prosecutor's office. The US Attorney helped the girls get new identities and leave Atlanta, but a list was created somewhere along the line with each girl's name, identity and new home. This was before computers. Sutton got his hands on the list. Then we found out he was part of the cover up. No blatant evidence that he'd been involved, but he knew about it. Two of his buddies were went to prison. Sutton took that list and promised that no one would ever see it if we all just let him go quietly."

  "What?" Polly asked.

  "We didn't have anything firm on him. I think he promised his buddies an easier sentence if they kept quiet. Those of us who were aware of what he did were sworn to secrecy. He swore that if his name was tied to the scandal, he'd expose the cops who had been on the outskirts of the cover up and release the names and addresses of the girls who had been involved, essentially destroying their lives."

  Lydia spoke up. "You went along with this?"

  "I had to. It wasn't criminal, though it was abominable, and at that point, there were quite a few good men who didn't need to be dragged through the mud. So we agreed. Albert stayed in Atlanta, but I couldn't stomach the corruption we'd uncovered any longer. I couldn't be part of a system that allowed that man to stay in power. Digger and I talked late
into the night one night and I remember opening up an atlas and jamming my finger in the middle of it and saying, 'I'm moving here. Wanna go with me?'"

  "Bellingwood?" Polly asked.

  "Boone. I wanted to be as far away from Georgia as possible, so I started the process and moved. Digger wasn't far behind me."

  "So what happened to stir this all up again?" Lydia asked. "If you'd kept it quiet all those years, why would you expose him now?"

  "I'm sure Sutton has lived with this guilt, so he's paranoid. One of his buddies was released from prison two weeks ago. That's why Albert called last summer. He knew Sutton would panic. We didn't expect him to hire an assassin, but we discovered that he tapped Albert's phone and was having him followed." Aaron huffed. "He was so paranoid. Those girls are young women now - some of them around Sylvie's age. I hope they have families and found ways to deal with the horror of their childhood. The cops who had been part of this moved up through the force. I wasn't about to hurt their lives. I figure they're living with their own guilt."

  "Polly?"

  Polly spun around in the couch at the sound of Rebecca's voice. "Yes honey, how was your evening?"

  "It was good. I just wanted you to know I'm back."

  "Do you have your homework done?"

  Rebecca came over to the back of the sofa. "Yes I do," she said scolding Polly with a look. "You know I always do that after school."

  Polly patted her hand. "Good. Are you about ready for bed?"

  "Can I get my book?" Rebecca pointed at a bookshelf behind Aaron. "I'm sorry to interrupt."

  He jumped up. "You aren't at all. What book are you reading?"

  "Have you read these?" she asked, slipping behind his chair to take a book. "I'm on the fifth one."

  "Bobbsey Twins," he said. "No. I never read those. I liked Tarzan and I even read some Hardy Boys."

  "Those are over here," she said, pointing to another shelf. "I haven't gotten to them yet."

  "It looks like Polly has plenty for you to read."

  "She unpacks boxes and finds more. It's pretty cool." Rebecca looked around hesitantly, then rushed over and hugged Polly.