Mindfield (Sideways Eight Book 1)

by A Wallace

  Teresa shook her head. “No, she loves basketball. It’s all she thinks about, besides reading. Her dream is to play women’s basketball at the University of Connecticut.”

  “She’s goal oriented?” Charley said.

  “Yes.” Teresa presented her arms. “Big ones.”

  “What are her aspirations?” Murphy said.

  “She wants to be a veterinarian.” Allen rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I told her UConn curriculum doesn’t include veterinary medicine, but she can be hardheaded.”

  “That’s true,” Teresa said. “I suggested Cornell to her. She didn’t want to hear about it.”

  “She’s a strong-willed child?” Charley said.

  “Yes.” Allen pointed at his wife. “She gets it from her mom.”

  Teresa glared at him. “Really, Allen, you want to go there at a time like this?”

  “I’m stating the truth, Teresa.” Allen shook his hand from hers. “Like mother, like daughter.”

  “What’s that supposed mean?” Teresa’s eyes tightened. “Are you saying it’s Natalie’s fault she’s missing?”

  “If she would listen, instead of acting like you,” Allen pointed his finger at her, “believing she knows it all, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “You’re blaming Natalie?” Teresa’s face reddened. “How is it her fault a killer is out there preying upon children? Did she make him kidnap her?”

  “That’s just it, Teresa, I didn’t want her going to the party. I made my opinion clear by explaining why. There’s a maniac out there. Now my fears are a reality. But, no, you gotta have it your way and Natalie segregated herself from the group. Bowling wasn’t good enough for her.”

  Murphy stood. “Excuse us.”

  Charley tugged his hand to sit. Murphy scowled. She shook her head, placed her mouth to his ear. “Wait.”

  Teresa arched her back, straightening her shoulders. “Wasn’t good enough?”

  “You raised her to believe she is above others. You came from the high and mighty household of parents who are doctors. Me, I’m an ordinary Joe who struggled growing up. Now, you’ve taught Natalie she’s entitled like you.”

  “I don’t believe this.” Teresa stood with her arms stiff by her side, fists clenched, as her measured tone escalated. “Our daughter goes to the restroom and gets kidnapped by a crazy-ass lunatic and it’s her fault?”

  “Teresa, she shouldn’t have gone to the party.” Allen rose to his feet and faced his wife. “There’s no way three adults can mind thirty-something kids.”

  “Sure they can. They were bowling on the first four lanes.”

  “They were all bowling?” Allen’s voice rose, “Except for our daughter who wanted to play arcade games instead of hanging with her friends.”

  “She doesn’t like to bowl.”

  “Same as her entitled mother, who believes she’s above activities that are enjoyed by the masses. You raised her to believe she is privileged and better than anyone else.”

  “Explain why she has so many friends, Allen?”

  “Bought and paid for by your daddy’s money.”

  With the speed of a striking cobra, Teresa slapped Allen hard on the cheek. “How dare you.”

  Charley tapped Murphy’s arm. “Now.” They catapulted from their seats. Before they could take control animosity strengthened, Allen retaliated with a smack of his own. Teresa staggered beneath the blow. Her fury exploded from her face, attacking her husband.

  “I’ll take her,” Charley said. “You handle him.”

  Murphy lunged for Allen, wrangled his arms behind his back, holding him steady. Allen growled, but fell silent without struggling. Teresa screamed accusations, hustling towards Murphy.

  Charley snatched Teresa by the collar, placed her in a chest-hold, and hauled her to the sofa. Teresa fought and kicked, before Charley pushed her onto the cushion, keeping the woman in place.

  After subduing them, which required the threat of handcuffs and an overnight stay in the county jail, Murphy and Charley demanded they sit at opposite ends of the sofa.

  Charley paced. Cheeks scarlet as she ground her teeth, she said, “Stay put both of you.” She shook her finger at them. “Your little girl is missing and you resort to violence?”

  Murphy joined Charley. He brushed her hair from her eyes with the back of his hand. “You, okay?”

  “Yeah, you?” She swiped the sweat from his brow.

  “I’m good.” Murphy faced the Normans, his jaw tight and unyielding. “Do you behave like this in front of Natalie? Is this what she sees between her parents? Arguing over who came from where and who’s better than the other?”

  Allen nudged his head in Teresa’s direction. “She’s always criticizing me. I didn’t come from money. I worked to get through college. My dad died when I was a boy, my mom did the best she could. She’s a saint and expects nothing from anyone. My wife treats her like a servant.”

  Teresa attempted to stand. Charley put her hand on Teresa’s shoulder pushing her back onto the sofa. “Do not move from your seat.”

  Teresa huffed and groaned. “I do not.”

  “You do.” Spit shot from Allen’s mouth. “And you abuse her kindness and generosity. You dangle Natalie under her nose to make her do shit for you.”

  “I do not,” Teresa said.

  “You and your well-honed passive aggressive manipulation. You walk around whining the floor would stay clean if Natalie didn’t wear her shoes in the house. My poor mom, who has cleaned enough floors in her lifetime, mops to make sure Natalie isn’t punished or yelled at.”

  “I stated a fact about her wearing shoes in the house.”

  “So you could have your floors mopped, before the lady who cleans the house arrives. You do it all the time. Natalie’s a pawn to you and my mom is your damn slave. I’m tired of it. My mom has more character and integrity in her snot than you have in your whole body. You are a spoiled brat and you’ve turned our daughter into one.”

  “You have no right to say that.” Teresa lunged, punching him in the nose.

  The two screamed accusations and complaints at each other as another physical bout ensued.

  Charley peeled Teresa off Allen by placing her into another chest hold.

  Murphy stood between them and admonished their behavior. “Do you want to find your daughter or kill each other? Agent Faraday and I are more interested in locating Natalie.”

  “We do not hit Natalie.” Teresa’s head shot in Charley’s direction. “We don’t spank her, ever.”

  “You don’t have to, Teresa,” Murphy said. “The two of you are emotionally assaulting and traumatizing her through your treatment of each other. Do you have any idea how this affects her? You are abusing the two people she loves the most in the world.”

  The Normans quietened as they buried themselves into the sofa. Humiliated and seething, bubbles of mucus expelled from Teresa’s nose.

  Charley removed her phone from her pocket. “I’m requesting two uniforms to guard you while we take a look in Natalie’s room.”

  “Good idea.” Murphy kept his focus on the Normans.

  Charley fixated on the couple. The Normans sat hunched on the sofa. “… yes, and contact family services too. This household is in need of some intervention.” After she ended the call, Charley and Murphy stood between the Normans as they waited for uniformed officers to assist.

  Twenty minutes later, two county deputy sheriffs arrived. As they took their positions by the Normans, Murphy addressed Allen. “Which room belongs to Natalie?”

  “Upstairs, second door on the right.”

  “Thank you.” Murphy motioned for Charley to join him.

  In Natalie’s room, both were reticent as they paced around the oversized bedroom.

  Charley’s eyes darted from corner to corner unable to concentrate. She sighed and searched for his eyes. “Sean.”

  Toe-to-toe, he removed a droplet of sweat from her temple. “Yes.”

  Char
ley dropped her head. “Sometimes I jab you with my elbow and punch you in the shoulder.” She pressed her fingertips across her forehead. “Never again.”

  “It’s not the same, Char.”

  “Maybe not, but I have no right to touch you.”

  Murphy grinned. “Ehh, let’s not go that far.” His smile brightened, his upper lip curled.

  “Okay.” She whipped around. “Let’s work.”

  The white walls of Natalie’s room were blinding against the bright red carpet. Chicago Bulls basketball posters dotted the space. The heavy oak furniture seemed unusual for a young girl.

  They peered out the double window overlooking the lawn. In the backyard, a small basketball court sat adjacent to the abandoned remnants of Natalie’s childhood, an unused sandbox, and play system.

  A full-size bed on the right, the dresser sat on the opposite side of the room. On it were several trophies with a female basketball player. One had Natalie’s name with MVP engraved on a brass plate.

  A desk with a computer sat next to the window. On the tabletop were DVDs of movies dedicated to sports, including comedies and dramas. A lone disc not inside an original jewel case, laid next to the stack of movies. The sleeve had a gold star sticker on the lower right corner. Murphy eyed the media, curious about the contents.

  “‘The Princess and the Frog’,” Murphy said. “Seems odd.”

  “She’s a girl. Why would that be odd?”

  “No other movies such as this one.” Murphy pointed at the case. “The DVD is original, but the case isn’t. The others are in their proper cases.”

  Charley meandered over to the desk and viewed the disc. Her eyes moved to the DVD rack, scanning each movie. “She has sports, comedies, dramas and adventure, but no girl movies.” Charley peered at him. “I see your point.”

  Murphy reached for the movie as Charley grabbed his hand. “Don’t touch it.”

  “I’m wearing gloves.”

  “We need to talk to the Normans first.”

  “I’ll go downstairs and get them,” he said and left the bedroom.

  Charley stared at the DVD before her gaze shifted to the wide screen monitor connected to the PC. A wireless broadband router sat on the top shelf. She retrieved her phone from her pocket and called cyber genius and best friend, Scott Grae.

  Murphy and the Normans entered the bedroom as Charley completed her call.

  Charley pointed at the DVD. “Do either of you recognize this?”

  The Normans stepped to the desk.

  “Don’t touch it,” Murphy said.

  “I’ve never seen that,” Teresa said.

  “Me either,” Allen said. “Natalie doesn’t like those kinds of movies. She never asks to go see them at the theater. We’d take her if she wanted.”

  “This is unusual?” Murphy said.

  “Yes.”

  “We need your permission for forensics to remove this item into evidence.”

  Allen nodded once, hard. “Do it.”

  “There’s one more thing I’d like to remove.” Charley pointed at the computer in the desk cubby. “The PC may give us information contained in emails or correspondences.”

  “Take it.” Tears flooded Teresa’s eyes as she turned to her husband, burying her face into his chest. Allen wrapped his arms around her.

  “That’s what Natalie needs to see,” Murphy said.

  Charley lowered her eyes, stepping away. Murphy moved in her direction. He spoke softly over her shoulder into her ear. “Makes ya wonder, doesn’t it?”

  She nodded and addressed the Normans. “I’ll ask Phillip Fleming, our forensics technician, to remove the PC tower for evidence. He’ll deliver it to Scott Grae. If anything is on the hard drive, Scott will find it.”

  “You can take the whole room.” Allen rocked Teresa in his arms. “If you two don’t mind we wish to return downstairs.”

  “Go ahead,” Murphy said. “We won’t be much longer.”

  The Normans left the room as Charley removed her cell from her pocket to call Phillip Fleming. “He’s on his way.”

  “Why aren’t we collecting the evidence?”

  “Even though we know how to handle sensitive evidence, I’d rather Fleming do it. I don’t have any bags large enough. Take no chances, do it right.”

  “I agree.” He glanced at the DVD case on the desk. “Why a star?”

  “Not sure.” She continued to examine the room. “We may have caught a break.”

  Murphy opened the door to the closet next to the dresser. “There are eight basketballs in here. She’s a tomboy.”

  “The room says that. She’s athletic.”

  “No dolls, nothing girlie. Why?”

  “It’s what she loves, enjoys. Like me, I love my guns and knives. My three black belts in martial arts. I jump out of airplanes for fun.” Charley perused the books on the shelf over the desk. “She’s a versatile reader, many genres. Natalie read some titles more than once.” She removed a book from the shelf. “The binding is bent, and the cover is worn.”

  “What’s the book title?”

  “‘The Count of Monte Cristo’.”

  “Imprisoned for thirteen years. Why would a young girl read this?”

  “I read it as a kid.” She shrugged. “Loved it.”

  “It has swords, so…”

  Charley raised her hand. “Guilty.” She tapped her mouth with her finger. “Hey, would you like to go bowling one evening?”

  “Love to.”

  Chapter 23

  Sirens and Studs

  Fifty miles SW of Fairfax, VA – Sirens and Studs Swingers Club

  Friday, 20 May – 8:03 PM

  A multi-colored neon sign boasting the name Sirens and Studs with a martini glass and a couple in a provocative position, flashed above them as Murphy and Charley stood outside his black Roadster. Isolated on a country road, nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains it stood alone.

  The windowless two-story building appeared to be an office building. Colorful spotlights shined on each corner of the tan stucco rectangular structure. Blank and unassuming, except for the garish neon sign, the complex avoided attention.

  Dressed in a strapless navy-blue jersey mini-dress, Charley raised her toes, balancing on the cheap four-inch black ankle strap heels. Make-up plastered on her face, cubic zirconia earrings dangled to her shoulders. The dark wavy wig flowed to the center of her back.

  Snug boot cut hip-hugging jeans clung to Murphy's hips, leaving nothing to anyone’s imagination. His red formfitting t-shirt etched his muscles. The sleeves stretched around his biceps, leading to solid forearms.

  They stared at each other.

  Murphy placed his hands on her upper arms. “Char, you don't have to do this.”

  “I've come this far. We have to know the truth.”

  “If you change your mind it's okay. I'm behind whatever you decide.”

  “Sean… I can't believe I'm scared. As many dangerous situations I've been in, I've never felt like this.”

  “This is tense, it's tight, and there's no room for mistakes.”

  She nodded. “I can do this.”

  “Char, do you have any idea what goes on in these places?”

  “Only what I've read. To know...” She shook her head.

  “I wasn't expecting a full parking lot.”

  “A lot of out-of-state license plates. If I don't go in now, I never will.”

  “Let’s go.”

  She sighed.

  He dug in his pocket. “We need to wear these.”

  “Ah, the rings, I forgot.”

  He held out his hand. “Give me your hand.”

  Charley shivered as he slid a gold wedding band and a one-caret emerald-cut diamond ring on her left ring finger. “Oooo, pretty.” Charley admired the setting. “It fits. Your mom's?”

  “Yes. She has great taste.” He handed her a simple men's gold wedding ring. She slipped onto his left ring finger.

  “Is this your dad's?”

>   “No, it belonged to my grandfather.”

  “Your grandfather was tall like you?”

  “All of us Murphy men are. My mom is tall too.” He regarded his left hand then her. “It’s official.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “How soon can we try to make babies?”

  She smacked him on the arm and turned her head to hide her scarlet cheeks. “Sean, please.”

  “You'll never have to say please.” He grinned.

  Heat swept up her neck as her cheeks blazed. “Gawd.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “We have to act married to do this right.”

  “Should we fight here or inside?”

  Murphy's lip curled as he smiled and grabbed their backpacks. “I'll carry these.”

  “I'll carry mine,” she said, taking it from him.

  “Char?”

  “Sean. I'll carry mine.”

  “I'll file a protest later,” he said as he put his arm around her waist and locked her in close. “Put it around me, Char.”

  “Put what around you?”

  “Arm in arm.”

  “Okay,” she said as she swapped her backpack to her other hand.

  “Okay, wife, mind if I make a few requests before we go inside.”

  “You’re pushing it big guy.”

  “That too.” Sean snickered.

  Charley elbowed him in the ribs and hid her smile. They sauntered to the entrance door, stopped, their stationary on each other. Murphy placed his hand on the brass door handle and waited.

  “Go ahead,” she said as she swallowed deep.

  He opened the door for her as they entered the lobby. Its aged motif was reminiscent of the seventies. The shiny red tile glowed against the black painted walls. Heavy gold drapes hung over a large mahogany double theater door. To the left was the registration desk. Hesitant, they made their way to the counter.

  “Evening, welcome to Sirens and Studs. My name is Richard, how may I help you.”

  “We are Donald and Deidra Downing. We have reservations for a new membership weekend.” Murphy said. “Here's the confirmation, our marriage certificate, and copies of our driver's licenses.”

  “You're from Maryland,” Richard said. “I've been there lots of times.”

  “We requested a certain room,” Murphy said. “It's our lucky number.”