by Jen Talty
“Stacey was in the shower when I got up. Jillian is already on the phone, trying to find out anything she can.”
“I think she’s a good lawyer.” Doug stared at Jim’s profile. “And a good woman.” Jim had always been so stoic and serious. He looked older than he was, and still did. “Why’d you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Take me in. You could have called Child Protective Services, but instead, you let me live in that house, you brought me food, and then you took me in. Then, when I was sixteen, you emancipated me from the system, gave me a job, and sent me to school.”
“I was trying to build a business, and that”—Jim pointed to the house where’d they met—“was the first real big deal I’d gotten. I was barely twenty-four when I got that deal. A rich family from downstate with deep pockets. I’d been working for other construction companies, and my dream was to own my own company. That was my shot.”
“That house turned out great. Kind of a waste that the owners barely use it.”
Jim nodded. “It got me a lot of jobs, and eventually, “me” became “we,” but one night, before we met, Stacey came into my office. She was playing with…” Jim laughed. “G.I. Joe dolls.”
“She’s always been a tomboy.” Doug had been afraid of Stacey at first. She was precocious, though he didn’t even know what that word meant then. She’d always talk him into playing her games or just sitting and talking.
“Anyway,” Jim continued, “she pressed her face against the sliders and told me a little boy just ran through our yard, and she wanted to go meet that boy. So, we went outside. No boy. She was so disappointed, but she’d look for that boy all the time. Another day, she wanted to go for a walk. We had this rule that she couldn’t get too far ahead of me, and never past that driveway. She got to that driveway and yelled, ‘Daddy, it’s the boy,’ and she took off down that drive so fast, I nearly had a heart attack. I chased her, but she was quick, even back then.”
“I made the mistake more than once of challenging her to a race. I still can’t beat her and my legs are nearly twice as long.”
“I finally caught up with her. I was so scared about how fast she’d taken off; I reprimanded her like I’d never done before. She chomped down on her lip, and it quivered, and I thought ‘Oh, no, here comes the tears.’ But no. Not my baby girl. She just stomped up the driveway, then waited for me at the top with her back turned and her arms across her chest. I figured she was crying, but she wasn’t going to show me. And she never gave up on the idea of this little boy out there. My mother told me I used to have all these make-believe friends at her age, so I figured that’s what she was doing, except she wasn’t.”
Doug remembered that day. He remembered listening to Jim yell, wishing someone cared enough about him to show such concern about his safety. “Who was the little boy?”
Jim laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
“There is no way she thought I was a ‘little boy.’ I was already five-ten by then.”
“I didn’t know that the first time we saw you.”
“What do you mean ‘we saw you’?” Doug turned to face Jim. “I thought the first time you saw me was when I ran out in front of the truck in the middle of the night.”
“I nearly hit you, too,” Jim said. “That was the night I decided I wasn’t going to leave you food anymore. I was going to take responsibility for you.”
“Wait.” Doug thought about all the half-sandwiches left behind. Bags of chips. Cookies. Water and juice. The few items in the fridge that Doug made sure he didn’t eat enough of for anyone to notice. “You left that stuff behind on purpose? You knew I was there before that night?”
Jim arched a brow. “Going to let me finish?”
Doug nodded, feeling a bit stupid. Jim was a neat freak. He wouldn’t just leave something behind, though he always had coolers filled with snacks and stuff.
“The next morning, I got up early to go find you. I searched that house, but you weren’t there. I thought I’d scared you off.”
“I was hiding in the garage.”
“That garage wasn’t safe,” Jim said. “I was so relieved on the fourth or fifth day when I saw you there, sleeping, that I think I woke you a little too harshly.”
“That was near the end of the summer. When was the first time you knew I was there?” Doug tried to remember how long it had been before Jim started leaving his lunch and snacks behind.
“About a month or so. I feel so guilty for doing that,” Jim said. “But to me, you were a young man. Hell, I was eighteen when I became a father. I had to grow up fast. I figured a homeless, runaway teenager had to grow up harder and faster than me.”
Doug touched Jim’s arm. “You had no idea what kind of person I was. I don’t blame you for leaving me there. I just had no idea you knew. But when did you and Stacey see me?” Doug turned his chair, listening intently to Jim, like he’d done so many times as a teenager. Back then; he could listen to Jim talk all day. He’d tell Doug stories, or teach him fascinating things about every subject. If Jim couldn’t answer Doug’s question, he’d go get a book, and they’d look it up together. “I always thought I hid so well. Once, I got stuck inside, but you never seemed to notice I was there.”
“You were terrible at hiding.” Jim smiled. “I had to bribe Stacey not to talk to you.”
“How’d you do that?”
“Ice cream. Lots of ice cream,” Jim said. “It was just after I’d turned the power back on in the front of the house. I was tired from working two jobs and taking care of her, but I’d promised her late-night fishing. She didn’t care that we didn’t go far. She just felt like it was a grown-up thing to do. She put her line down and sat there, waiting patiently. I cut her a deal. One half-hour that night, one half-hour next night. Two nights of fishing. She loved that idea. It was a nice, quiet, warm July night. Anyway, we’re sitting there the first night, and she points to the window and says, ‘See Daddy, little boy.’ And you did look like a small child. You’d cupped your face against the window. The post lights I’d put in the front yard made it easy to spot you. You looked at the sky as patiently as she fished.” He paused. “I was going to go into that house that night, but then you stood up and moved into another room in the house, and I was shocked by your size.”
“I was tall for my age.”
“I thought about calling someone, but I wanted to learn more about you, so I started watching you. I wondered what you did all day and night alone. If you had anyone to talk to. I figured you saw me, so I left things behind for you. Food. Tools. Books. Whatever I thought might interest you. Then you made that birdhouse. Between that and Stacey hounding me about when I was going to bring the ‘little boy’ home, I’d decided I couldn’t leave you in that house alone anymore, and then I introduced myself. Once I got your name, I had Jared quietly do some digging for me. He found out about the foster situation, and he’s the one who suggested emancipation.”
Doug wiped his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I always said I’d tell you everything if you asked. You never asked.”
“I was afraid to,” Doug said. “Then I thought it would insult you.”
“I understand.” Jim nodded. “The way you were living wasn’t normal. What I did wasn’t normal, but it was the right thing to do.”
“It’s an odd thing,” Doug said. “I’m about nine years younger than you. About nine years older than Stacey. You thought I was a young man, and she thought I was a little boy. Do you know how Freudian that is?”
“I do,” Jim said. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s really on your mind?”
Doug looked Jim in the eye, gauging his expression, contemplating what he’d say next. “I may not have always been upfront or offered certain information, but when asked, I have never lied to you.”
“I know,” Jim said, staring at Doug with a steady eye. “Same here.”
“I’m scared. I don’t know how all this is going to play out.�
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“We have to believe—”
“Your turn to listen,” Doug said. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t see it coming. It happened too fast, and I have no idea how to deal with it all, but I do know one thing for sure, and that is, I’m in love with Stacey.” Doug paused, waiting for Jim’s response. It seemed he waited an eternity.
“Have you told her this?”
“No,” Doug admitted. “I wanted to wait until all this business is settled with Mary’s death. But I needed you to know. For us. For our friendship. For everything you’ve done for me.”
“I appreciate that.” Jim held out his hand. “But all I want is for my baby girl to be happy. For you to be happy. If that means the two of you are… I’ll deal with it, but if you break her heart, I’ll break your legs.”
“If I get arrested you’re going to have to break my legs.”
Jim closed his eyes. “That wouldn’t be you hurting her.”
When he opened them, Doug saw them fill with water.
“If it happens, I don’t want her sitting around and—”
Jim interrupted Doug. “Shut up. I hope you didn’t give her this pathetic-martyr-feel-sorry-for-yourself speech.”
Doug shook his head.
“Do you love my daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Then start acting like it.” Jim ran a palm over his face. “It’s pretty shitty what we are all going through, but I will not watch you slip back into this little boy who crawls into a corner when he’s scared. Don’t give up your fight.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jim held out his hand and Doug held it for a long moment as the two men sealed their fate once again.
“Jim! Doug,” Jillian yelled from the deck off the family room.
“What’s wrong?” Jim asked.
“Jared is picking Stacey up shortly. He asked she be in uniform.”
* * *
Stacey didn’t like waking up alone, even to a sticky note with a hand-drawn rose on it. Cute. But not the same thing as waking up in Doug’s arms. She liked it even less when her boss summoned during her forced vacation, telling her to be in uniform and ready for him in thirty minutes. Doug and her father didn’t appreciate it either as they bolted from the sundeck into the house. Jillian tried frantically to get details from Jared, who offered none other than that everyone needed to trust him.
Stacey kissed Doug good-bye then got into Jared’s car. He remained quiet, refusing to fill her in on any of the details. When he pulled into the Sheriff’s office, she started demanding answers.
She got only one: “Trust me.”
She followed Jared and another detective, Dalton, whom she’d met when this whole thing started, into the conference room. Dalton left, closing the door behind him.
“So, what is this all about?” Stacey asked, frustrated. He gave nothing away with his stone, expressionless face.
Before Jared could answer, Gregory stepped into the room, followed by Detective Dalton. Gregory was the same cocky, arrogant asshole he always portrayed himself to be. He had puffed out chest, but he lacked his usual smirk. Dalton stood by the door, leaning against it. “Someone want to tell me the hell is going on?” Stacey was beyond annoyed and about to blow.
“Yes, Detective Gregory,” Jared said. “What is this all about? Do you have something to say to one of my Troopers?”
“I’m not going to be bullied by the likes of you,” Gregory said between gritted teeth.
Jared took a step closer to Gregory. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”
“Don’t threaten me,” Gregory said, matching Jared’s stance. “I’m only here as a courtesy to the Sheriff.”
“‘Courtesy’ is an interesting choice of words,” Jared said, “when we both know you’re being forced. Now, get on with it.”
Gregory cursed under his breath before saying, “I owe you an apology.”
“For…?” Stacey did her best to keep her mouth shut. She wanted to take his apology and shove it up his ass.
“For suggesting you might have tampered with evidence on the dive or covered something up for your boyfriend.”
“And…?” Jared barked.
“There is no more,” Gregory said. “That’s all I agreed to.”
“I put one of my best people on vacation because you mishandled this case from the very beginning,” Jared said.
Gregory’s face flushed. “And now I’m suspended because of you.”
Stacey stood between the two men, looking back and forth, trying to follow the conversation. She was admittedly confused, but liking the direction.
Jared laughed. “Your superior decided to put you on suspension, not me, because you misused your position—”
“I didn’t misuse anything,” Gregory said. “You’d look to the future ex-husband first, if this were your case.”
“And when evidence pointed me elsewhere, I would have looked elsewhere, only you didn’t. Not until you were forced to.”
“Wait a minute,” Stacey said, looking up at Jared. “What evidence, and where is it pointing?”
“We’ll get to that,” Jared said, “but you should know that Gregory took it upon himself to ignore certain pieces of evidence and continued to try to discredit you and possibly—”
“I was doing my job,” Gregory barked.
“Not very well,” Dalton said.
Stacey got in Gregory’s face. He took a step back. “You’ve been fucking with my life. My father’s business. And an innocent man. When all this could have been played out differently. We’ve spent the last week on eggshells, wondering what stupid, cockamamie idea you’d come up with next, and it’s all because you have some kind of hidden agenda. Why?”
“Maybe because I believe your boyfriend did it, and my job is to—”
“Enough,” Dalton said. “You tried to get this department to ignore evidence and continue to pursue a dead end because you have some twisted issue with female officers and women in power.”
“That’s not true.”
“Fuck you.” She poked Gregory in the chest. “You threatened my badge.”
“Hey,” Gregory yelled.
“Oh, fuck it.” Stacey raised her fist then gave Gregory a good jab in the gut.
He grunted, doubling over and holding his stomach. “Dalton, you can’t just let her do that. I’m still a police—”
“Do what?” Dalton raised his arms to his sides. “I didn’t see anything.”
Stacey leaned closer to Gregory. “I think it’s your badge you should be worried about.”
“I think it’s time for you to go.” Dalton held open the door.
Stacey shook out her hand as Gregory left the room. She hoped that would be the last time she ever had to lay eyes on that piece of shit. She turned to Jared. “I can’t believe you didn’t stop me.”
He laughed. “You held your cool in a very difficult situation when your father and Doug had to be stopped. I’m impressed by that. The ‘douchebag’ as you called him, deserved to find out what it was like to be taken down a by a good Trooper. The icing on the cake was that Trooper just happened to be a woman.” Jared patted her shoulder “Not much of a consolation, but it’s your good police work that that led us here. Yours, Reese’s, and Luke’s.” Jared turned to Dalton. “Let’s get on with this.”
Stacey shook her head. “Why do I feel like I’m in the dark again?”
Dalton pulled eight evidence bags out of a box then placed them on the table. The first was an old hammer. The next contained an old shirt of Doug’s. “That’s really the only piece of evidence we have that would led us to believe Doug was involved.”
“What?” Stacey asked. “Where did you get this?”
“They were collected in Bill’s house.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No prints. While there’s no logical explanation for them being in Bill’s house, I can see where further investigation would be necessary,” Dalton said. “But
as the case developed and more evidence collected, it was obvious, at least to me, that maybe we had our sights on the wrong man.”
“You got that right,” Stacey said, looking at the other bags. One contained the ream of paper from the safety deposit box. The next had a couple strands of hair. Another one contained a manila envelope with Doug’s name on it. Another contained a hand-written note. Another with a brown wig. And the final bag contained one blond wig.
“When Gregory found nothing in the safety deposit box, he asked the bank staff if they’d seen you in the bank that week. One thought they’d seen you the day before the murder, but they couldn’t be sure,” Dalton said.
“That’s cra—”
Jared held up his hand. “Let him finish.”
“The topic of your hair brought up a bizarre incident. One of the female workers found a blond and brown wig in the bathroom. She thought it weird, but tossed them into the trash and went about her day.”
“Lucky for us,” Jared said, “trash had gone out the day before, so we were able to locate the wig.”
“Gregory didn’t think the wigs were of any significance and suggested the Albany Police Department not even look for them, but they thought otherwise.”
Stacey flipped the chair around then straddled it, looking at the wigs. “Okay, so I have long, blond hair, and Mary had shoulder-length brown hair.” She tapped the bag with the strands of hair. “From the wig?”
“No,” Dalton said. “That was found in the ream of paper. Human. No idea who it belongs to.”
“Let’s move on.” Jared tapped the manila envelope. “These are Doug’s divorce papers. They were found in Bill’s house. Gregory suppressed them as immaterial. I wasn’t liking the way things were being handled, so I pulled out all the information and found something.” Dalton said as he pushed the hand-written note toward her.
Doug,
Sorry to do this to you, but I don’t know where else to turn. It’s a very long story, and I’m sure, considering all we’ve been through, I’m the last person you want to help, but Bill is being blackmailed. They keep threatening that they are going to kill me. Crazy, right? But I’ve been run off the road twice. And other crazy things are happening, and I’m scared. Bill doesn’t want me to do anything. Says if he pays them off, it will all be fine. Maybe you could give this to Stacey. Or someone at her station.