She caught a glimpse of my blue-stained crotch and wrinkled her forehead. “What happened?”
It was the perfect opportunity to tell her about seeing Heather Flanagan and witnessing her meltdown, but I choked back the words. “I bought that blue Slurpee that Zoe loves so much, but I spilled it on the way to the car.”
“Why didn’t you go back inside and get another one?”
I shrugged. “I was in a hurry to get home and change out of these wet pants.”
“Do you want to change before we speak to the kids?”
“Yes, for the sake of my dignity.” I affixed a weak smile to my face.
Inside the house, I raced up the stairs. Phoenix’s door was closed, but Zoe’s was wide open. She sat on her bed with a notebook and colored pencils spread out.
Holding one of the pencils in her hand, she looked up and smiled. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Hi, sweetie. Your mother and I want to have a talk with you downstairs.”
“Right now? I’m in the middle of—”
“Yes, right now,” I said, cutting her off.
“Okay! God!” she whined.
As I walked to my bedroom, I could hear Zoe stomping down the stairs, making it clear that she didn’t appreciate being disturbed while in the middle of a homework project. My sweet Zo-Zo was slowly morphing into a disgruntled adolescent, and I didn’t like the transformation one bit.
With Zoe out of earshot, I had the opportunity to speak with Phoenix privately. Instead of changing my pants, I wheeled around and made purposeful strides toward his room. I softly rapped on the door and then entered.
He was sitting at his desk, wearing headphones while reading an ancient history textbook. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how he could comprehend what he was reading with music blasting in his ears.
He didn’t hear me knock, but sensing my presence, he looked up. Pulling the headphones away from his ears, he said, “Hey, Pops.” He eyed me curiously and said, “What’s that on your pants?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said brusquely. “Listen, the police found the body…” I paused, expecting a strong reaction from him, but he kept a straight face. “Sasha wants us sitting down as a family when she and I make the announcement. Afterward, we’ll reiterate the safety rules. You need to act surprised and somewhat bothered by what happened to the little girl. No inappropriate jokes and no wisecracks that trivialize the situation. Your lack of empathy will make you seem suspect. Do you understand?”
He gave me a cold stare. “Of course I understand. I get it,” he said with a hint of disdain.
With a frustrated sigh, I left his room and returned to mine. I changed out of the stained pants and put on a clean pair, and then went downstairs. I could only hope that Phoenix would be able to act the part of a person hearing shocking news for the first time.
Dreading the discussion with Sasha and the kids, I slowly descended the stairs. They were seated at the dining table drinking sun tea and munching on tamales and burritos. Apparently, Sasha wanted to soften the bad news with some of Arizona’s most popular snacks.
I joined my family at the table and slid a small plate in front of me and picked up a burrito from the serving tray. With my nerves badly on edge, I wasn’t the least bit hungry but wanted to give the impression that I was fine.
“Your father and I called you downstairs to discuss a new development in the Taylor Flanagan case,” Sasha began.
“Is she back home? Is she okay?” Zoe questioned with a glint of hope in her eyes.
I set the burrito on the plate in front of me and cleared my throat. “No, honey, she’s not home. Her body was found in a cornfield, not too far from here.”
Zoe scrunched up her features. “Her body?”
“That means she’s dead,” Phoenix offered in a monotone.
Sasha nodded. “She was murdered by her abductor.”
“How?” Zoe inquired in a shocked, high-pitched voice.
Nerves getting the best of me, I rubbed my palms circularly on my khakis, creating a rustling sound. “We don’t know all the details, yet. But, uh, someone killed her and until he’s found…”
“How do you know it’s a he?” Phoenix asked, feigning ignorance.
Being that the actual murderer was doing the questioning, I paused for a beat and ran a hand over my forehead before responding. “Uh, it could be a woman, but in most cases of child abduction and murder, the perpetrator is usually male,” I replied in a surprisingly steady voice.
“People are saying the mom did it,” Phoenix continued. “Do you think that’s true?”
Zoe gazed at Phoenix, her head tilted. “Who’s saying that Mrs. Flanagan did it? Why would a mother kill her own child?”
“That’s only a rumor,” Sasha interjected. “The police didn’t find any evidence that Mrs. Flanagan had any involvement.”
“They say she did it for the money,” Phoenix insisted.
“Let’s not perpetuate baseless rumors,” I said, giving Phoenix a stern look that told him to knock it off and pipe down, but he didn’t.
He held up his hands in bafflement. “Why do you guys want to shield Zoe from the facts? So far, Heather Flanagan and her boyfriend, Cory, are the only people the police have taken in for questioning.”
“And they were released,” I said bitterly while glaring at him.
He was taking the innocent act too far. I’d instructed him to act surprised, but I didn’t tell him to reignite the rumor about Heather Flanagan being responsible for her own child’s death. After witnessing her meltdown in the 7-Eleven, I felt terrible. She wanted the police to bring in the perpetrator, but I, feeling an innate sense of duty toward my son, was standing in the way of justice.
“We realize you children are tired of having the safety rules drilled into your heads, but we’d rather be safe than sorry during this terrible crisis,” Sasha said.
“We understand,” Phoenix responded, cueing Zoe with a head nod.
“Yeah, we understand, Mommy,” Zoe piped in.
For what seemed like the hundredth time, Sasha and I went over the safety rules we put in place, and both children listened with rapt attention, as if hearing them for the first time.
CHAPTER 31
I had hoped for a day that was as peaceful as possible. No newsflashes about the Taylor Flanagan case. No suspicious behavior out of Phoenix. And most of all, I didn’t want to hear that the police had a suspect in custody. My guilt would be unbearable if an innocent person was charged with the crime.
Unfortunately, I wouldn’t find anything remotely close to peace.
Midmorning, I was engrossed in work in the server room of a resort and casino that was located on an Indian reservation in Maricopa County, one of Ahiga’s old accounts that I was lucky to inherit. I was pulled out of my zone when Dacy Bullard, the casino’s IT guy, burst into the room.
Dacy was a millennial in his mid-twenties. His bone-straight, pure white hair, which hung to the middle of his back, was a stark contrast to his brownish, unlined, and youthful face. Like most of his generation, he was somewhat of a know-it-all, and I found it difficult to be in his company without feeling annoyed, and today was no exception.
“The way the police have been dragging their feet, I didn’t think it would happen any time soon. But they methodically did their work and caught the guy that killed that little girl,” he said.
Heart thumping, I took a deep breath. Not Phoenix! Please, God—don’t let them have my son in custody. “What guy—who is he?” I asked, dreading his response.
“They caught a known child molester who’s on the sex offenders’ list. At least that’s what they reported on the news. The perv was staying at the Terra Vida apartments, about seven miles from where the little girl lived. It’s a shame the way they allow known pedophiles to walk free and work around children. The guy was working as a custodian at the children’s hospital and no one did a background check on him. Allowing a sick fuck like that to come into close con
tact with kids is playing with fire. They say the girl that was found in the cornfield was a patient at the hospital last summer.”
I was so relieved that Phoenix wasn’t the one who’d been apprehended, I could barely speak.
“How do they know that the custodian guy did it?” I asked when I found my voice.
“The police pulled him over and found some of her possessions in his car,” Dacy said.
“Wow!” That single utterance was the only thing that came out of my mouth.
With a slight smile, Dacy nodded. “With that scumbag locked up, parents can start breathing easier.”
Dacy chatted for another few moments, but I hardly heard a word he said. I leaned back and clasped my hands at the back of my head and stared into space. Picking up that I was finished with the conversation, Dacy mumbled, “I’ll let you get back to work.”
Alone with my thoughts, I wondered how many kids the pedophile had hurt. I also wondered what he looked like. I extracted my phone from my pocket to check the local news, and there he was, Glen Mathis, a Caucasian male in his forties, with pockmarked skin and dirty-blond hair that was bald on top. He was the picture of coarseness and indecency. How someone like this had been allowed to circulate around sickly, vulnerable children, I would never know.
Even though he was innocent of harming Taylor, I refused to feel sorry for the man. Who knew how many other children he had hurt in the past and would hurt in the future? The fact that he was a known pedophile made me feel nothing but contempt for him. He deserved to go down for Taylor’s murder.
Believing that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, my mood elevated and I called Sasha at her downtown dental practice to tell her the news.
“They got that bastard,” I said in a celebratory tone.
“Yes, I heard,” Sasha said, sounding preoccupied. “There’s a lot going on here today. The new receptionist accidentally double-booked quite a few patients, and it’s a zoo right now. Can we talk about it when I get home?”
“Yeah, sure. See you tonight. Love you, babe.”
“Love you, too,” she said hastily and hung up.
I was surprised that Sasha wasn’t as excited as I was. Then again, she didn’t realize that I feared that Phoenix might get hit with a murder charge. With a suspect now in custody, I could stop looking over my shoulder and finally relax and get a good night’s sleep.
But before I succumbed to badly needed slumber, I needed to show my wife some long overdue affection. I hadn’t made love to Sasha for weeks, and I hadn’t given her any explanation for rebuffing her advances. It was obvious by the look in her eyes that she was hurt and angry, and tonight I planned to make up for all the confusion and heartache I’d caused her.
As I continued running maintenance tests on the server, I mentally made a list of items that would guarantee a romantic evening with Sasha: champagne, a box of See’s assorted chocolates, a bouquet of flowers, and flavored edible oil to give her a sensual massage that would begin with me rubbing her feet and end with me feasting on every part of her luscious body.
Sasha wouldn’t be home until around seven, and that gave me plenty of time to shop and transform our bedroom into a sex den. I chuckled, imagining her surprise when she entered the bedroom and found the room decorated, and found me, ready to cater to her every whim.
I texted Phoenix to let him know that I wouldn’t be picking him and Zoe up at the bus stop today. I didn’t say why, but I was pretty sure that he’d heard the news and concluded that our family was no longer on high alert. I also told him to make sure that Zoe got home okay.
As twisted as my son’s mind was, I didn’t have to worry about him violating Zoe in any way. He was protective of her and it seemed to me that he loved her as much as Sasha and I did. I had misread the incident in the pool. He’d held her head underwater at Zoe’s request and I went into a panic and blew the whole thing out of proportion.
I tried to get back to work, but my heart was no longer in it. I had to run errands at several different shops. Anxious to get started, I packed my tool bag. I left Dacy a text, letting him know that I’d be back in the morning to finish the work. Since it should have been a one-day job, I added that there wouldn’t be any extra charges.
It felt as if I had a new lease on life. Being outside, mingling with people felt good. In fact, I discovered an appreciation for things that I’d previously taken for granted, like the Arizona sunshine that warmed my skin. I admired the brilliant blue sky and noticed that the plant life seemed to be more vibrantly green than I’d ever noticed before.
Ever since I’d found out about Phoenix’s atrocious crime and after assisting him in the cover-up, my world had crumbled, and getting from point A to point B was like plodding through quicksand. Today, I felt hopeful…optimistic, and it showed in my energetic stride.
Come hell or high water, I was going to get my boy straightened out with a top-rate shrink. Eventually, I’d have to have a discussion about Phoenix with Elle. Without providing her with the damning details, I had to make her aware of how deeply troubled he was. After what he’d done to her dog, she couldn’t still be in denial about his mental health. Surely, she’d be on board for placing him in a long-term treatment program for adolescents.
• • •
I arrived home with two large bags that contained a variety of items that I was sure would put a smile on Sasha’s face. As I pulled into the driveway, I heard splashing water and the sound of laughter coming from the backyard. Phoenix’s and Zoe’s happy voices echoed as they splashed in the pool. I got out of the car and hastily popped the trunk and gripped the handles of the bags. I felt fortunate to be able to get in the house unseen by Zoe who would undoubtedly want to know what was in the bags.
I filled an ice bucket and took it upstairs. In the bedroom I set the scene by scattering rose petals on the floor and on top of the bedspread. On my side of the bed, I placed the champagne on the nightstand, and set out a box of Sasha’s favorite chocolates and two bottles of strawberry-flavored massage oil. From the vase on Sasha’s side of the bed, I replaced the silk flowers with two-dozen fresh-cut roses.
Intending to run a hot bath for her when she arrived home, I carried an eighty-dollar scented candle into the master bath and carefully placed it on the ledge of the tub. I didn’t typically spend that kind of money on a single candle, but tonight the sky was the limit.
Satisfied that everything was in place, I decided to check on the kids. I bounded down the stairs and strolled happily to the backdoor.
At first I thought I was seeing things, and I squinted at the three figures in the pool. Zoe was lying on an inflatable raft. Phoenix was swimming the length of the pool, underwater, and then shooting out of the water, pretending to be a shark.
If there was only Phoenix and Zoe playing in the pool, I would have considered the shark game to be all in good fun, but the other child in the pool was none other than Paisley, the little girl who’d attended Zoe’s slumber party, and whom Phoenix had lured to Baxter’s empty house with the intention of snuffing the life out of her.
“Phoenix! I need to talk to you,” I yelled from the patio.
He took his time getting out of the water. I could feel heat rising up my neck and settling around my face as I watched him lumbering slowly toward me.
Impatient, I gestured for him to hurry up, but trying to get under my skin, he continued dragging his feet.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Aggravated, I gave him a shove toward the backdoor.
“What’s your problem, man?” he demanded with a fierce grimace.
“Who’re you calling, man? I’m your father and you will respect me as such.”
He sucked his teeth and it took all of my self-control not to ram his head into the bricks that made up a single wall of the kitchen.
“Maybe you need to start thinking about returning to Philadelphia.” The words popped out of my mouth thoughtlessly, but I was tired of Phoenix’s aberrant behavior affecti
ng my peace of mind and happiness.
“I can’t go back to Philly.”
“Why can’t you?” I asked challengingly.
“I can’t. My mom and dad don’t understand me the way you do.”
“It’s a little late to start appreciating all that I’ve done for you.” My voice was cold and my face was a hard mask.
“I’m sorry. Okay? I’m really sorry.” There was fear in his voice, and I got the distinct impression that he was terrified of returning to Philadelphia.
“Why’re you so afraid of going back home to your parents?” I eyed him closely, gauging his reaction, and the mere mention of our hometown caused him to visibly shudder. “Did Everett do something—did he put his hands on you?”
“No, never.”
“Then why do you look petrified?”
Wearing a miserable expression, he drew his shoulders up into a shrug.
“There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“No, there isn’t.” His words came out shaky and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down frantically.
“Talk to me,” I said quietly.
He shook his head briskly. His eyes were cloudy, like he was on the verge of tears.
“Talk to me!” I said in a booming voice that expressed my growing impatience.
“Okay!” he yelled. He took a deep breath and then exhaled. “There was this girl at my school—she was there on scholarship, and um, she sort of latched on to me. There were only a few of us black kids, and we went to the eighth-grade spring dance together. Afterward, we came back to my house to watch movies in the basement. Our basement’s been renovated. It’s a home theater now, with a concession stand, a soda machine…the works.
“She seemed really impressed by everything and it seemed like a good time to bring up the subject of sex. I asked if she wanted to try it, and she said no, but I was able to talk her into manual stimulation…uh, you know, jerking each other off,” he divulged with his eyes downcast.
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