A Carol for Kent

by Hallee Bridgeman

  He sat at the piano, silhouetted by the setting sun coming through the window, and tapped out a very happy, simple tune while the girls went through one of the bumblebee dances they had recently performed. Carol stood in the doorway and watched them, then loudly applauded their performance.

  “Okay, girls, time to go back next door and take a bath,” she said when they finished executing almost graceful curtseys. After some token hem-hawing, that quickly ended with a stern look from Carol, they raced out of the room to go find their shoes on the back porch. Carol barely flinched at the sound of the door slamming.

  Bobby slid out from behind the piano and walked up to Carol. Grabbing her by the waist, he hummed the tune he had just played and swung her around the room, ending in a low dip. “You dance well,” he said, sneaking in a quick kiss.

  Carol kissed him back then stood up. “I like what you’ve done with the room,” she said, walking around and looking at the pictures.

  “The construction team worked quickly. I had a crew out here Friday moving things in. It’s not perfect yet, but it will be. My ranch in Nashville already sold.”

  “Really?” She turned around, surprised. He was back at the piano, shutting the lid over the keys. “That fast?”

  “It was a beautiful piece of property in a prime location.”

  She lifted her chin toward the photographs of Bobby. “Nice picture of you with the first lady.”

  Bobby followed her eyes for a second and teased, “Yeah. She’s a surprisingly good dancer, too. Not much of a kisser though.”

  He waited to see if she had taken him seriously before he continued, “I’d really like one of you and Lisa up there. Maybe the three of us. See where I saved a spot?”

  Carol felt her eyes widening and wondered why his simple request touched her heart so deeply. The empty space he referred to was central to everything else. He had reserved pride of place for the equivalent of a family portrait. A few weeks ago, Bobby lived hundreds of miles away behind security cameras and twelve foot walls in a mansion. Now they shared a property line in the suburbs. It felt surreal. “So this is your home now?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and, with a touch of impatience he said very slowly, “Why, yes, Carol. This is my home. My only child and the mother of my only child live right here in Richmond where I grew up. There’s nowhere else I’d rather live.”

  Realizing she’d had a knee-jerk negative reaction to him again, she put her hands behind her back. “I’m glad. I kind of like having you close.”

  He opened his arms. “Why don’t you come closer and say that?”

  She smiled and stepped into his arms.

  RESTLESS, Bobby moved through his house, wandering from room to room until he finally went to his music room and sat at the piano. A song had scratched at his subconscious mind all day and he wanted to see if he could at least get the melody down on paper.

  The faintest of pink highlighted the eastern horizon, itching to burst through the dawn sky when he finally finished. He rubbed his tired eyes and slowly stood up from the piano. It was a good song, a happy dance number, and he knew it would be a hit. He would make sure to schedule time with a choreographer and come up with a line dance to accompany the video when he got back to Nashville in the fall. He made a quick note on the corner of the music sheet to coordinate with Melody about it, then went up the stairs, shedding his clothes as he went. He might just be tired enough to sleep in his empty bed now.

  Before he fell asleep, he remembered to set the alarm for eight. Two hours of sleep should be enough to get through church services. He could make the rest up later.

  “MICHELLE Lewis, twenty-eight years old, registered nurse at the medical center, transplant ward,” Jack Gordon said, looking down at the carefully arranged corpse lying near the shore of Fountain Lake in Byrd Park. “Married six months. Discovered right here this morning by some Sunday morning joggers just before sunrise.”

  “Do we have a time of death?”

  “About three in the morning,” Mitch said from behind her.

  “I never trusted joggers. They’re always the ones who find the bodies,” Jack quipped.

  Carol ignored his attempted humor. She didn’t think any joke that relied on an actual murder deserved a laugh. “His hand is getting better at the makeup,” Carol observed.

  Mitch nodded. “Jack said the same thing earlier.”

  Michelle wore a faint pink pantsuit with a ruffled gold top. Gold hoops hung from her ears. A gold necklace made out of thick chains lay over her chest, and gold bracelets encircled her wrists. Around her neck, a violin string cut into the skin. Pink shoes with gold heels adorned her feet. Her red hair was twisted into a stylish bun and her makeup looked flawless. Recently snuffed out by crime scene technicians, thick candles sat in pools of red wax at five perfect points around her body.

  Carol sniffed the air. “I can smell shampoo. Passion fruit.”

  Mitch raised an eyebrow. “How can you tell passion fruit from cherries?”

  Feeling the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, she answered, “Because I use the same brand.”

  “Ah. I thought it was a feeling.”

  Carol shook off the feeling of dread and took in the entire scene. “Speaking of feelings, he seems to be back under control. Looks less angry, more sexual again.”

  She stood and stepped back to stand next to Mitch. “She was last seen in her uniform at the bus stop at work,” he said. “Her husband called the department this morning and reported her missing.”

  “She’s the first victim who’s been married. I wonder if that’s significant. I’m guessing we don’t like the husband?”

  Mitch shook his head. “He started calling the hospital around ten last night and stayed up all night calling friends, family, emergency rooms, morgues. He had already called the station twice.”

  Carol nodded, putting her arms around herself. “You been yet?”

  His lips thinned. “On my way.”

  “I don’t envy you that job.”

  “Nor I.” He shut his notebook and slipped it into his jacket pocket. “You might make it to church.”

  “Bobby took Lisa and her friend for me,” Carol said.

  “You mean international singing sensation Bobby Kent? That Bobby?” Mitch asked.

  “Want an autograph?” Carol stole a glance at her watch. “You know what? If I leave now, I might just make church. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Monday, May 7th

  THERE was a police guard outside the gates of the school. He stood there in his rain garb, frowning at the reporters who converged on Carol’s vehicle while she tried to navigate to the entrance.

  “What do they want, Mommy?” Lisa asked, fascinated as they yelled questions and snapped pictures. Carol finally cleared the gate, and then got stuck in the long line of cars filled with parents and students.

  “They want the hot new story, Lisa. Between a case I’m working, and everyone finding out your dad is so famous, we seem to be that story.” She slowly inched her way through the parent’s drop-off.

  “Well, they’re blocking the drive there. Can’t they just stand back and wait?”

  Carol laughed. “They should, babe.” She was nearing the covered walkway, so she leaned over. “Give me a kiss. I’ll see you tonight,” she said.

  From the back seat, Lisa put her arms around her neck and kissed her, then grabbed her backpack. “Who’s picking me up?” she asked as she put her hand on the door handle.

  “Your dad. I’ll be home in time to eat dinner.”

  “Is he taking me to dance?”

  “Yes, Lisa. Now go. Other parents are waiting.” She watched Lisa run into the school, then pulled out and headed toward work. Because it was Monday, and because it was raining, the traffic inched along, going slower and slower the closer she got to downtown. As the clock approached nine, her phone rang almost nonstop. She took two calls from a paralegal she had working on some research, but ignored abo
ut thirty of them that were more than likely from reporters.

  She finally reached her parking lot, then had to push her way through the throng in front of the building, while holding onto her briefcase and an umbrella. She nearly started swinging one of them around to get a spot cleared for her, but then she reached the door and was able to get inside.

  By the time she made it to her office, she was fuming. She threw her briefcase onto her desk, let her wet umbrella land on top of it, then stormed to Maurice’s office. Janice tried to stop her, but she waved her off and threw open the door.

  The governor sat in front of Maurice’s desk, along with Mitch’s captain. Maurice stopped in mid-sentence and glared at her for interrupting, then sat back in his chair and waited.

  “Is there nothing we can do with those reporters down there?” she asked, pointing to the window.

  “Well, I suppose we could have them all arrested. Oh, but wait,” Governor Wilson asserted. “They’re apparently protected by what some people like to call the Constitution, Ms. Mabry. Have you heard of it?”

  “Why does their freedom get to interfere with mine? They had to assign a police officer to Lisa’s school to keep the entrance clear enough to allow vehicles in, and the second they saw mine, they bombarded me. Then, I needed some sort of weapon to make it to the door downstairs.”

  Maurice cleared his throat. “I don’t think the ones at the school are there because of the case, Carol. Do you?”

  She put her hands on his desk and leaned forward. “My personal life wouldn’t be as exciting as it is now without this case, and you know it. They would have taken a bunch of pictures of Bobby Kent’s long lost daughter, then slithered back to their holes.” She stood and put a hand to her hair to make sure it was still in place. “Is there any kind of court order we can get to keep them back ten feet or something?”

  Governor Wilson pulled a small pad of paper out of his pocket. “I’ll see what we can do to keep them from impeding entrances to buildings and schools. I won’t be able to stop them from approaching you personally, but it isn’t right if you have to physically push your way through them to reach a door,” he said while he wrote.

  “Actually, this is an active case. That’s technically obstruction,” Maurice offered.

  The Governor nodded and raised one ironic eyebrow. “Did you know that I went to law school myself about a hundred years ago Maurice?”

  “Thank you, Governor. I apologize for the interruption,” Carol said, and started to leave the office.

  “You might as well stay now, Carol. It will keep me from having to repeat everything you’ve said to me anyway,” Maurice said.

  “I would, but I have court in half an hour with the Kennedy case, and I still need to review my notes.”

  Maurice nodded. “Good luck with that one. Doesn’t he have David Black representing him?”

  Carol narrowed her eyes and nodded. David Black was the sneakiest, slimiest lawyer in Richmond, the kind that could find the smallest error on the state’s side and get his client off with it. “Don’t worry. They’re shooting for insanity, and we have a stockpile of witnesses and experts who’ll testify that the man is as sane as they come.”

  “That’s why you got the case, Carol.” He picked up a paper in front of him and turned back to the Governor, and Carol knew she had been dismissed. Janice glared at her from her desk, but she ignored her and went back to her office where Eunice, the paralegal assigned to this case, and Rhonda waited.

  Eunice flashed a quick smile, then handed her a file folder. “This is an affidavit from Shannon Kirksey.”

  “Who is Shannon Kirksey?”

  Eunice cleared her throat. “Shannon Kirksey is Dr. Kennedy’s girlfriend. She says he came to her apartment immediately after bludgeoning his wife.”

  “Why is she just now coming forward?”

  “Because, apparently Dr. Kennedy hasn’t been all that forthcoming with the engagement ring he promised.”

  Carol looked at Rhonda over the rim of the open file. Their eyes met and the two attorneys shared a smile. “How very unfortunate for Dr. Kennedy. Any idea how we look with discovery?”

  CAROL followed Bobby while he carried a sleeping Lisa from his house to hers, then upstairs to her room. He gently laid her down on the bed, then Carol stepped forward and expertly removed shoes and clothes from her without waking her up. She pulled the covers over her, then smoothed them down and leaned over to kiss her.

  Bobby followed Carol down to the kitchen, where she intended to make some coffee to get her through the next few hours of work she still had to do. He sat at the table and toyed with an apple, watching her move around the room.

  “How do you do it?” he finally asked.

  Carol hit the button to start the coffee and went to sit next to him while it brewed. “Do what?”

  “Bounce between your two worlds without a hitch, get less sleep than most mortals, and still manage to be happy most of the time,” he said. He put the apple down and grabbed her hand.

  Carol shrugged. “I don’t think about it, I just do it. The joy of the Lord is my strength.” She propped her chin in her other hand and looked at him. “Why the psychology?”

  Bobby stared at her for several moments, and the look that was in his eyes both excited her and made her nervous. Finally, he spoke. “I was analyzing all of the reasons for how I managed to fall in love with you in less than three weeks.”

  That was the last thing she had expected to hear, and she gasped and tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn’t let her. “You don’t mean that,” she said. “You’re confusing your feelings for Lisa with me.”

  Bobby smiled and slowly shook his head. “Now that is interesting. I thought that too, at first. That isn’t the case. Maybe my feelings for you started back in college, maybe not. I don’t think the when really matters. I know they’re here, and I know they’re real.”

  She put a hand to his cheek, her fingers lightly grazing his lips and chin. “I’ve seen your face every day for eight years, you know. I can’t understand why God would give us such an amazing child, but keep you and I apart.”

  “I believe His timing is perfect. But I also believe with every cell in my body that He wants us to be a family. He made you for me, Carol. He made me for you. In His infinite wisdom, He knew that you and I should be the parents that reared Lisa up in the way she should go.”

  Carol saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You really do believe that, don’t you?”

  Bobby nodded. “When I first started touring, I ignored God’s voice. When I felt His conviction, I made a promise to Him and myself that I wouldn’t do that anymore. I promised I would love God and keep His commandments and I have. Now I’ll make a promise to you, Darlin’. I am going to love you until the day I die.”

  He stuck his hand into the watch pocket of his blue jeans and pulled something out. “I bought this today, but I didn’t think I was going to do anything with it for a long while. Turns out it’s been burning a hole in my pocket since I put it there. Why wait when I know my heart and I think I know yours?”

  He took her hand and lowered himself to one knee, looking up at her. “Carol, will you do me the very great honor of taking me as your husband, of becoming Mrs. Bobby Kent? Will you marry me, Carol?” he asked, sliding a ring onto her finger.

  Carol tried to speak around the tears that choked her throat, but she couldn’t. At first she just nodded, but she knew that would not be the answer this moment deserved. She finally croaked, “Yes. Yes! I will. Yes!”

  She watched the words sink in, and when he realized what she said, he gave a whoop and sprung to his feet. He grabbed her to him, whirling her around the room. Carol laughed and hung on, and was still laughing when his mouth covered hers. Just as quickly as he started the kiss, he ended it, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her back a step.

  “I want Lisa’s permission. I know she’s eight, but I’m marrying her too. I want her to take my name, Carol, just like you. I
want to give you both everything I can in this life. I want her to have everything I can give her as her father.”

  She started kissing him. She kissed his neck and cheeks and his wonderful warm mouth. She never wanted to stop.

  CHAPTER 23

  Personal Journal Entry

  May 8

  I can’t sleep. I can barely eat. All my thoughts are scattered. I can’t get them back. She consumes me.

  Her. Her. Her. Her.

  I have to make it stop. I have to quiet this obsession or else I’ll go mad. There’s only one way to still them. The cheap substitutes just make the need greater.

  I can’t keep her close, like I thought. It must be her.

  I must let him kill her.

  Tuesday, May 8th

  CAROL sat at the table in the kitchen and nervously tapped her fingers. The light coming through the window reflected off the diamond on her left hand. Though the excitement hadn’t dimmed, in the light of day it seemed like a hasty decision – an incredibly hasty decision.

  Whenever she made up her mind to slow things down, she felt a sinking loss in the pit of her stomach. Perhaps it was time for responsible, respectable, methodical Carol Mabry to do something spontaneous and out of the ordinary. Of course, the last time she’d done something spontaneous, she’d ended up with a child.

  She groaned and lowered her head to the table. Years before, she had lain in her small efficiency apartment, alone and scared, pregnant and too young, and dreamed of Bobby Kent coming through the door and going down on one knee, professing his love for her. That frightened pregnant young woman loved Bobby Kent. She had loved him desperately.