Mercy Street

by Mariah Stewart

  “I think we passed a shopping center on our way to Bauer’s,” Mallory pointed out. “I think it was close to the exit.”

  “This one over here on the left? The strip mall?”

  “Yes, that’s it. I didn’t notice if there was a restaurant or not, though.” She leaned forward to get a better look. “There’s a place. Looks like maybe a sandwich shop.”

  “Any port in a storm,” he muttered as he made the turn into the parking lot, which was mostly empty. He parked right outside the storefront and turned off the engine.

  “Doesn’t look like there are too many people eating here. That’s never a good sign,” he said.

  “Sometimes these little hole-in-the-wall places fool you.” She unfastened her seat belt and opened her door. “Let’s take a look.”

  Charlie followed her into the restaurant. A tinny bell rang when the door opened, and a thin woman with dyed strawberry-blond hair peered out from the kitchen.

  “Be with you in a minute, hon,” she called to Mallory. “Go ahead and sit anywhere you like.”

  There were only three empty tables out of twenty-five occupied, so Mallory walked to the table in the corner.

  “This okay with you?” she asked, and Charlie nodded.

  The thin woman emerged from the kitchen with a tray that she delivered to a table of three men, then handed menus to Charlie and Mallory.

  “I’m a little shorthanded tonight, hons, so bear with me.” The pin over her left breast spelled out CHARLENA in green sequins. “Specials are on the board right behind you. I’ll be right back with water.”

  Mallory turned to read them. “The chicken salad looks good. I think I’ll go with that.”

  Charlie studied the board for a moment, closed the menu, and said, “I’d like to take you out for a real dinner one of these nights.”

  “You don’t have to take me to dinner. This is fine.”

  “Adequate under the circumstances, but not fine. And I meant I want to take you out. As in a date. Dinner is merely the vehicle. And I bring it up only to let you know that I know the difference between grabbing a sandwich from someplace—anyplace—and dinner with a capital D.”

  “I never date anyone I work with.” Mallory looked away as she spoke. “Messy.”

  “Good policy. Stick with that. I agree completely. So I’m really glad we’re not working together.”

  “What do you call this?” She leaned forward. “What we’re doing on this case?”

  “Oh, this?” He grinned. “This is collaborating.”

  Before she could respond, the waitress came over to take their menus and explain the specials.

  “I think I’ll go with my first choice.” Mallory handed back the menu. “I’ll have the chicken salad and a Diet Pepsi.”

  “I’ll go with the burger. Medium rare. Fries. Large Coke,” Charlie told her.

  “Got only one cola.” The waitress pointed to the sign that was neither Coke nor Pepsi. “That okay?”

  Charlie and Mallory nodded.

  “I’ll be right back with those.” The waitress hustled back to the kitchen.

  Mallory sat with her right elbow on the table, her chin in her hand.

  “Okay, how’s this sound: Courtney gets some type of communication from Regina back in the winter, late January, maybe, or early February. She wants to find a place to hide so that Regina can’t find her. What does she do? She tries to find her father, and does.

  “She’s thinking if she can hold on till graduation, she’ll go to live with Daddy and Regina won’t be able to find her.”

  “Why didn’t she just go to the police?” Charlie wondered aloud.

  “Probably because she saw the shitty way the case was investigated in the beginning, and figured her father would be a better bet.”

  “That reminds me, I did talk to Callie Henderson this morning. She said that she’d spoken to Courtney on the phone for about three minutes the night of the shooting, and it was an hour earlier than Courtney had told the police. She said no one ever asked her about it, so she figured it wasn’t important.”

  “Swell.” Mallory grimaced and fell into silence for a while.

  “Charlie, maybe it’s not a place special to Courtney. Maybe it’s someplace of Ryan’s,” she said thoughtfully. “You know, we’ve been so caught up with all this business with Courtney and Regina that we’ve lost sight of Ryan.”

  Charlie looked up with interest.

  “The place where they’re hiding,” she continued. “Maybe it’s someplace special to him. And yes, we’re going to assume they are hiding.”

  She took her phone from her bag and entered a number, then placed the phone to her ear.

  “Mary, it’s Mallory Russo…”

  The reception inside the restaurant was poor, so she walked outside, talking as she went. She paced on the sidewalk and asked the same question in as many ways as she could think to: Yes, I know you’ve been asked before, but have you been able to think of someplace that’s special to Ryan, someplace that he might think of as a sort of sanctuary?

  “Please give it some more thought,” Mallory said when her questions all brought the same response: no place special Mary knew of. “Maybe something will come to mind.”

  “Mary can’t think of anyplace offhand,” she told Charlie when she went back inside. “I’m thinking I should talk to Father Burch. Maybe someone at school, maybe one of his friends might have an idea. Maybe Ryan mentioned something to someone…” She tapped her fingers impatiently on the tabletop. “There has to be something.”

  “You’re that sure they’re alive?”

  “Aren’t you?” She appeared surprised by the question.

  “Pretty sure, but I don’t like to…”

  “Yeah, I know, to assume.” She smiled. “I feel them alive, Charlie. I feel them still part of this world.”

  “You got a little woo-woo thing going on there?” he asked, his eyebrows slightly raised.

  “A little. Nothing weird. Just feelings I get sometimes.”

  “And you feel these kids are still alive.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I do.”

  “Then I guess if they’re going to stay that way, we’re going to have to find them before Regina Girard does.”

  “There’s a sobering thought,” she said. “Everything we’ve heard about that woman has been scary. She sounds like your classic psychopathic personality. No conscience, no rules—and no line that she won’t cross.”

  “Frank tells me that the customer who ducked down to hide in Hazel’s when the shooting started disappeared after he ID’ed Regina from a police lineup.”

  “As in just…poof?”

  “As in gone for good without leaving a forwarding address and never heard from again.”

  The waitress served their food, and they ate in silence for a while.

  “Maybe there’s a way to flush her out,” Mallory said thoughtfully. “Maybe we could lure her somehow…”

  “We can’t keep her on anything right now. We could bring her in to question her, but I don’t want to tip our hand yet. I’m afraid if she knows we suspect her, she’ll disappear and we’ll never find her. The chief wants to pull in the guy she’s been staying with, see what he can get from him.”

  “Won’t that make her suspicious?”

  “Depends on what they bring him in to talk about. Chief said I’d get a chance to talk to him once they have him. We’ll see if he has anything to say about his current live-in.”

  “You know, you might want to—”

  Her thought was interrupted by his ringing cell phone.

  “Excuse me,” he said to her as he answered the call. “What? Where are you?”

  He got out of his seat and started walking toward the door. Bad reception, Mallory thought as she watched him disappear outside. By the time he returned, she’d almost finished her meal.

  “We’re going to have to get on the road,” he told her. He withdrew his wallet from his back pocket and too
k out two twenty-dollar bills.

  She looked up at him, surprised. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yeah. Something’s wrong.”

  “Aren’t you going to finish eating?”

  “I lost my appetite,” he said, his face unreadable.

  “Okay. You go start the car.” Mallory pushed her chair back from the table. “I’ll settle up here.”

  “I took care of it.”

  “You left entirely too much. Go. Start the car. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  She picked up the twenties and walked to the counter.

  “Something wrong with your food?” Charlena asked with apparent concern.

  “No. My friend just got called back to work. The chicken salad was fine,” Mallory assured her. “But I’m wondering if we could wrap his burger and fries…”

  “I got just what you need.” Charlena pulled a Styrofoam container from under the counter and handed it to Mallory. “Let me get you folks some travel cups for those drinks I’ll bet you barely touched.”

  Within minutes, Mallory was at the car. She approached the driver’s side with the brown paper bag from the restaurant in her hands.

  “How about if I drive for a while so you can eat,” she suggested when he rolled down the window.

  “I’m okay. Get in,” he said brusquely.

  She walked around to the passenger side and opened the door. She had not yet fastened her seat belt when he began to back out of the parking space, then hit the gas to beat the red light at the entrance to the shopping center.

  She waited until they’d gotten onto the turnpike before opening the lid of the white Styrofoam container.

  “I’m assuming you can eat and drive at the same time.” She passed him the burger.

  “Thanks.”

  “I have your fries, too,” she told him. “I’ll leave the container on the console, if you like.”

  “That would be great. Thanks, Mallory.”

  “And your drink is in the cup holder.” She placed it there.

  “You’re a lifesaver. Thanks for being so understanding.”

  “Well, I’m not, not really, since I have no idea what’s going on. I didn’t have much of a choice. Seems to me it came down to being left behind in Beaver Creek or packing it up and taking it with us.”

  “I’m sorry. I owe you an apology.”

  “Hey, no apology necessary. I know how work can be sometimes.”

  “This has nothing to do with work. This is personal.”

  “Oh.”

  She debated with herself whether or not to ask. In the end, pride won out over curiosity, and she opted out of asking about his personal life.

  “So you think he was telling the truth? About not hearing from Courtney?” she asked.

  “I don’t think he expected anyone to come around, so he didn’t have a story cooked up. At least that’s how I read it. You?”

  “I thought he was being straight with us—but I don’t know. I’d have expected him to be a little more upset about her disappearance. Did he seem upset to you?”

  “Not really. Then again, he’s only seen this kid a few times since she was born,” Charlie said. “Which is sad, when you think about it, but the fact that he hardly knows her could account for the lack of emotion.”

  “Still, he’s her father. Wouldn’t you expect to see a little more emotion?”

  “Frankly, I think he showed more emotion over his ex finding out where he is.”

  “You’re going to let the court know, aren’t you?” she asked. “Linda and Misty have a right to know.”

  “I’ll take care of that first thing in the morning.”

  He passed a tractor trailer on a curve, and Mallory held her breath. They traveled another five minutes without speaking, and it was clear to her that he was miles away. Finally, she said, “Anything you want to talk about?”

  He took his time answering.

  “That call…that was from my mother. She called to let me know she was out for the evening, so I should get home right away because my sister was alone.” He accelerated and passed another truck. Traffic was light on this part of the interstate, and he was obviously taking advantage of the fact.

  “How old is your sister?”

  “She’s twenty.”

  “Old enough to spend some time alone, I’d think. You’re not one of those superprotective older brothers, are you?”

  “I’m afraid so.” He put his turn signal on and flew past a Jeep that was doing seventy-five. “I have to be. My sister is autistic. She can’t be left alone.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”

  “Of course you didn’t. There’s no reason you would have. She—her name is Jilly—will be all right for a while. She pretty much stays in her room and does her own thing. But if she starts looking for my mother, she’ll leave the house, and she’ll start wandering, and God knows what could happen to her.” In the dark, she could see his jaw set squarely. “On Tuesday, Jilly is going to be admitted as a resident at Riverside.”

  “That’s the school for special-needs kids outside Conroy?”

  “Yes.”

  “I heard there’s a really long waiting list. You were lucky they could take her.”

  “The chief apparently knows someone there. He got the paperwork pushed through.”

  “His sister-in-law is one of the trustees,” she told him.

  “Really? I didn’t ask who he knew. Anyway, she goes there on Tuesday, and she’ll be living there for as long as they feel she needs to be.” He slapped a palm on the steering wheel. “You’d think my mother could have waited another two days to go out partying with her girlfriends.”

  He cleared his throat. “My mother is an alcoholic. She’s supposed to be going into rehab the Saturday after we drop off Jilly.”

  Mallory didn’t have the heart to tell him that she knew very well who and what his mother was. “She must be very frightened” was all she said.

  “Your sympathy is misplaced.” When he turned to look at her, she pointed to the road ahead.

  “Don’t take your eyes off the road when you’re doing eighty-five, please,” Mallory said. “I understand you being upset and worried about your sister, but I do think your mother must be scared to death. Her daughter will be gone, and if she’s in rehab, she’s going to have to face whatever it is that addicts have to deal with on her own.”

  “It isn’t that I’m not sympathetic. I know she’s had a lot to deal with throughout her life. Things haven’t been easy for her.”

  As he drove, he told Mallory about his family history and the issues his mother had dealt with over the years.

  “She’s had a full plate, hasn’t she?” Mallory remarked when he finished. “She lost a home and a lifestyle she clearly loved, her husband died young and left her with three children, one of whom needed special care. And all those miscarriages. Your brother’s death. She’s really had more than her share, Charlie.”

  “I know,” he agreed. “She’s a really good person, Mal. She really is. She was a good mother. She is a good mother, when she isn’t drinking. But she’s lost control of it, and everything good that she is, is overshadowed by it. For her own sake, if not for Jilly’s, she has to stop. Sooner or later, something really bad is going to happen—to her, to my sister…” He shook his head. “I can’t let that happen.”

  “That’s why you quit the job in Philly and came back to Conroy,” she said softly. “To take care of her and your sister.”

  “I had to.” He nodded. “There isn’t anyone else.”

  His words hung between them in the front seat. She picked at the french fries mostly to have something to do with her hands.

  “Not that I mind,” he said. “I just want to clarify that. I should have come home after Danny died. I should have known how hard that was for my mother. If I had, the present situation would have been avoided.”

  “You don’t know that,” Mallory pointed out.

  “I pretty much do
. So now I’m playing catch-up. I need to get Jilly squared away, so that I can get Mom straightened out.”

  “And then what? Do you go back to Philly?”

  “No. That wouldn’t be fair to the chief or to the department.” He shook his head. “Ideally I’d like to convince my mother to sell the house she’s in. She’s always hated it. Maybe if she hadn’t had this drinking problem, she’d have sold it and moved on long ago, but she just hasn’t had the strength to do that. I think she’s been depressed, and when you’re down like that, it’s hard to make big decisions. So I figure if I can get her to move on, it would be really good for her to be in a new place.”

  “How about you?”

  “I have a deposit on a town house out on Ridge Road.”

  “The new complex they’re building? Out by the lake?”

  He nodded. “I figure by the time they’re completed, if all goes well, my family will be settled and I can get back to having a life again. Not that I’m complaining, but I really never saw myself living at home through my thirties,” he said wryly. “I’ve lived alone for years now, and I can’t wait to have my own place again.”

  “Did you have a house in Philly?”

  “Yeah, a great place in a little section called Queen Village. I contacted a Realtor before I left, told her I wanted to put it on the market. Now she tells me she has a buyer and I’ll make a killing on it, so I told her to go ahead and make the deal. I’m hoping the sale will be finalized around the time I’ll be settling on the new one.”

  He slowed as he entered the Conroy city limits.

  “Why don’t you stop at your house and check on your sister before taking me home?” she asked.

  “She might get upset,” he replied. “Strangers make her nervous.”

  “You can just run in and check on her. I can wait in the car.”

  “Would you mind?”

  “Not at all. I know you’re really worried about her.”

  “Thanks. I just need to see if she’s there.”

  “If she wasn’t, where would she be?” Mallory asked as he turned onto Fourth Street.

  “The few times she’s wandered, it’s just been through the backyards here in the neighborhood. At least, that’s all I’ve heard about. But you never know.”