Kristin grabbed her around the waist and desperately looked for a chair. “Take a deep breath. You’re going to be fine, baby.” She had to be fine. “You were great. Just great. Now breathe.”
The employee rolled a chair to them. “Is she getting sick?”
Kristin beamed. “Because of your unintended insult, she’s never been better. I owe you. Thank you very much.”
This incident was another step forward. Definitely worthy of a journal entry.
Even better, she’d share it with Rick.
TEN MINUTES LATER, Kristin rented a practice room. After watching her daughter greedily study the musical scores, reading the mess of black dots as eagerly as Kristin would read a great novel, she plunked down twenty dollars for a half hour of rental time. Not that Ashley had asked her to. She hadn’t. But, aside from those brief moments in the library with the dog books, Ash had not been deeply absorbed in anything for two months. Kris thought the time for phantom playing might be over. Maybe it was time for a real keyboard. Twenty bucks might be the best investment she could make for her daughter’s sake.
Ashley didn’t comment on Kris’s decision. She just kept studying the notation while automatically following her mother to the private room in an alcove at the back of the store.
“This is the part, Mom,” said Ash, after placing the sheet music on the piano and sitting down. “See? Right here is where I always screw up.” She pointed at the Beethoven.
Kristin nodded. “It looks tough.” Of course, it all looked tough to a woman whose sole musical contribution to the family was the ability to carry a tune—barely.
She sat on the bench next to her daughter, watching and waiting, and holding her breath. Ashley placed her right hand on the keyboard, and…did nothing. Slowly, her left hand went to her chest and she leaned against Kristin.
“Mommy, I can’t,” she barely whispered. “I’m scared. He hurt me. In here.” She tapped the area near her heart. Her eyes darkened, the pupils getting larger, almost filling her face.
Kristin’s skin prickled. She embraced her daughter, held her close, not knowing whether “in here” referred to body or soul.
“I know, baby. I know. But you’re safe now. You’re very safe. I’m with you. Every minute. No one can hurt you, precious girl.”
Ashley’s gaze became more unfocused. She stared past Kristin to the side wall. “No. Not safe. He’ll get us.” Her tone was wooden. Flat. A robot’s voice. Now she turned forward again and stared unblinkingly ahead. But what did she see?
“It’s movie time,” said Ashley. “No talking allowed.”
Movie time? What did she mean?
Ash closed her eyes and tilted her head as if she were listening hard, then carefully placed her hands on the keyboard and gazed down. Suddenly, she made the piano sing. Ten fingers moved rapidly in a sprightly dance, the music happy, lighthearted…like children skipping. The piece was totally unfamiliar to Kristin. Her child was engaged in her own world. Normal for Ash when she played.
After a minute, however, the music changed and became slower, quieter. “Shh. It’s dark now. No talking allowed,” whispered Ashley.
“I wasn’t…”
But Ash was deep into her playing, repeating the tranquil theme, which was also unfamiliar to Kristin. When the music changed again, however, Kristin recognized it immediately as the delightful opening number from Hairspray, an upbeat song called “Good Morning, Baltimore.”
And all the pieces fell into place.
Hairspray had been playing that horrible afternoon. Ash had put herself back in the theater, telling her mother what had happened through music.
“Baltimore” evolved into a quiet march for about eight bars. Enough time to walk to the restroom? Suddenly, thunder crashed, lightning sizzled. Treble and bass warred with each other before colliding in a cacophony of harsh sound. Ashley’s arms stretched from one end of the keyboard to the other, her mouth a grimace, her fingers never stopping. She worked it, she lived it, and now she shared it with Kristin.
Including a dirge at the end. Unconsciousness. Perhaps her own death.
When the last note faded, absolute silence filled the room and pounded against Kristin’s ears. Her gaze held Ashley’s, and she reached for her daughter.
“Thank you, Ash. I think I understand. Thank you so much for telling me.”
Ashley wrapped herself around Kristin and rested. “You’re welcome. I had to tell you now, but I don’t know why,” she murmured. “Mom, you’re crying!” She brushed at a tear with her finger.
“So are you.” Kris held her child, cuddled and kissed her. “I’m so proud of you, Ash. You’re amazing. Have I ever told you that you’re a fabulous kid?”
“Yes.”
“It’s the truth,” she said. “Another truth is that I didn’t recognize most of the music you played.”
Ashley started to giggle. “Neither did I.”
More discoveries. “Not bad for a beginning composer,” she teased. “Daddy would be so proud of you, darling. So proud.”
Ashley became silent, then tears pooled again and overflowed. “But do you think he’d still love me?” The question almost choked her.
Stunned, Kristin couldn’t answer immediately, and when she did, she was barely coherent. “Still love you? Are you kidding? He’d adore you. He’d love you till the end of time, Ash, no matter what. In fact, he loves you from heaven right now. Daddy and I—our love is forever, unconditional. No matter what. For always.”
Ash heaved a big sigh and leaned against her. “I just wanted to make sure.”
“Well, now you know…for sure.”
At its best, parenthood was a challenge. At its worst, it was a struggle through quicksand.
Once more, Kristin had hope. The last few minutes together had been filled with honest communication—perhaps of an unusual type, but it didn’t matter. Ashley had shared her story, her fears, and believed Kristin’s responses. Trust was building. Maybe one day the old Ashley, or someone close to her, would be back.
Kristin tapped the sheet music that still rested on the piano. “Are you up to this?”
Ash glanced at her watch. “Do you have enough money for more time?”
“Absolutely. Another half hour is fine.” She’d worry about the bill later.
“Then yes. I’d like to play my real pieces. My real music. I used to know everything by memory.”
“You probably still do. Take some time and enjoy yourself. I’ll wait on the bench just outside the store.”
“But lock the door here, okay? I’ll feel better if no one can get in.”
Kris walked across the room and was barely over the practice room’s threshold when the beautiful opening of “Clair de Lune” filled the air. Ash had entered her own world.
Oddly, Kris found no door to the room, or to the other practice rooms in that corridor. However, they were all tucked away from the selling floor and general customers would have no reason to wander here. Ashley would be fine, and Kristin would check on her every ten minutes.
She spoke with the store manager this time, used her credit card, then made her way outdoors, eager to enjoy the sunshine, the lovely breeze—and the knowledge that Ashley had taken another step. Maybe a giant step.
She leaned back on the bench provided for waiting parents, and allowed her lids to drift down and rest. John filled her mind, the remarkable man himself and the pain of losing him. She’d never want to go through that again. Her solitude lasted two full minutes before she heard a vehicle pull to a stop in front of her, and a familiar voice call her name.
Rick jumped from the Honda, leaving Quincy inside with the window half-down. He walked toward her while scanning the street, then pulled off his sunglasses when he reached her.
“Where’s Ash?”
Kristin glanced at her watch. “I’ll check on her very soon, but she’s got almost twenty-five more minutes to go.”
“For what?”
“I’m renting a practi
ce room. The sign said to ask, so I did.”
“Ahh. And she’s practicing the…?”
“Piano. She plays piano.” Her statement was quiet and deliberate. She tasted the words, loved the flavor, and then felt a grin bloom on her face.
“What happened, Kris?” His voice was quiet, too, but he glanced toward the doorway and at their surroundings as though searching for cause.
Of course he’d pick up on the change in her voice, in her expression.
“You look…I don’t know. Relaxed and happy?” He sounded incredulous, as though he couldn’t imagine Kristin totally at ease.
She stood and stepped toward him, glad for the opportunity to share the hope that had taken root. “Something good happened,” she admitted. “Actually, two things. But first, Ashley was supremely insulted and—”
“Insulted?” Rick headed for the door. “I’m glad I saw you. My dad asked me to pick up a new music stand, but I’ll buy it somewhere else now—after I give them a piece of my mind.”
“No! Wait. I didn’t explain correctly.” She grabbed his wrist, annoyed with herself for delivering the news backward. He might not be a working cop, but man, he was protective.
“She’s fine, Rick. Absolutely fine. Would I be out here if she wasn’t?”
She saw him take a deep breath. “Start from the beginning,” he said.
But a woman exited the store just then, her salt-and-pepper hair pulled high. Her excited gaze landed on Kristin. “Are you the mother of that gifted young pianist? They told me you’d be outside.”
“Yes, I am. But—is something wrong?” She’d assured Ashley that no one would bother her. Kristin lurched forward and grabbed the doorknob. “I’d better check on my daughter now. Be right back.” She disappeared inside.
Rick followed Kris, the gray-haired woman right behind him. He heard the piano music when he was halfway across the room and saw a silent group of people gathered near the back of the store, which seemed unusual. When Kris made a beeline for the crowd, he slowed his step and listened more closely. Could that really be coming from little Ashley? Did children play Beethoven with that kind of emotion and technique?
He watched Kristin as she stood in the doorway, staring inside, an awed smile on her face. He had his answer. Her child was, indeed, exceptional.
“Who teaches her?” the other woman whispered to him.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re not the father?”
“I’m—I’m a friend. Their closest friend in town.” A friend who kept learning more and more about his intriguing neighbors.
Kris tiptoed toward them, her wallet open. “I’m going to pay for another half hour,” she whispered. “I just can’t pull her away when she’s finally acting like her real self.”
Rick covered her hand with his. “My treat. Put your money back.”
“I can’t let you—”
“Yes, you can. I want to.” Just like he wanted to keep her hand in his and pull her close. The money was such a little gesture to make life easier for Kristin.
He went to the cash register, leaving the two women alone. Forty dollars an hour for a practice room was out of sight. A kid like Ashley would probably want to play for hours every day. Kristin could never afford that. His thoughts went into over-drive. He had connections at the clubs…knew musicians he could call….
The piano went silent. The small crowd was buzzing. He saw Kristin rush forward, worry on her face. In two leaps, he was there with her—ahead of her—and through the group of listeners, who were murmuring while they dispersed.
Ash was alone inside.
“What’s the—”
The child ran to him before he could finish the sentence. She wrapped her skinny arms tightly around him, and he could feel her quivering like autumn leaves in the wind. He made soothing noises and hugged her close, his glance darting around the small room, bouncing from the walls to ceiling to corners, looking for reasons. But as he’d immediately seen, the place was empty except for the piano and the bench.
“The people, the people.” Her voice broke. “They were listening. So many people. Who are they? I didn’t know them. I was alone.”
“Aww, Ashley. You were never alone,” Rick said. “Your mom would never leave you, and I was right here all the time, too. Listening to your beautiful music. And I’m guessing that’s what everyone else was doing.”
“But I wanted privacy….”
“I’m sorry, honey,” said Kristin.
Ashley wriggled out of Rick’s arms and went to her mother, then turned back to him.
“Where’s Quincy?” she asked in a trembling voice.
Just as she asked that question, Rick heard a store-wide announcement. “There’s a dog going nuts in the Honda Pilot outside. Anyone know him?”
“That’s Quincy,” exclaimed Ash. “He’s upset. He needs me now.” And she took off, calling over her shoulder, “Mom, could you buy the music, please?”
“It’s always two steps forward and one step back,” Kristin said, picking up the sheet music. “There was a moment today when I thought we’d have no more reversals, but I guess that’s not realistic.”
“She’s coming alive, Kris. That’s what I see. And birth is painful.”
“We came here for a quiet life,” said Kristin.
“Quiet is boring.”
“So says a cop.”
He eyed her steadily. “Ex-cop.” He grinned at her. “Hmm…maybe I’ll take piano lessons. How’s that for a new career?”
Kristin laughed, just the way he liked to see her.
“Your daughter can really kick butt on that keyboard,” he said. “She’s fabulous.”
“Her dad predicted this. Ash is quite the musician. Multiple instruments. So be nice to her, and she might show you a thing or two.”
Her husband. Kris hadn’t spoken much about him before. “Or maybe,” Rick said slowly, “she could be my partner again?”
Kristin cocked her head, her nose wrinkled. “What do you mean?”
He whistled the beginning of “Where or When” and watched her eyes light up.
“Oh. My. God.” She laughed with delight. “Truly? You? This is so cool. Wait until Ash finds out. She’s going to love you.”
Outside again, they saw Ashley, with Quincy at her side, talking to the woman who’d approached them earlier.
“She’s so brave, as long as Quincy’s with her,” murmured Kris, picking up her pace.
“She’s showing wisdom.”
Ashley made the introductions. “Mrs. Shilling is a piano teacher. She—she wants to work with me.”
The woman stepped forward, her hand extended to Kris. “Can we talk?”
Rick looked from Ash to the teacher and back to Ash again. The child was clutching the dog. Nope. Not ready.
Kristin put her arm around her daughter. “Ashley needs to be part of the conversation, too.”
The kid jumped in. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Shilling. I’m on vacation now.”
Vacation? Rick had to laugh to himself. The kid did schoolwork all day. And now she was doing some fancy talking. By the teacher’s expression, Rick could tell she thought so, too.
“I see,” said the woman, reaching into her purse. “But if you change your mind, or get bored on your vacation, playing the same music the same way without improving, just give me a call.” She gave a card to both Ashley and Kristin, then shook Kristin’s hand and said something to her privately.
Rick watched the lady as she went to her car. Even Ashley tracked her. Smart woman, he thought. She’d planted some seeds.
“What did she say to you?” he asked, standing close to Kristin after the teacher was gone. Kris’s mouth was hanging open.
“No charge,” she whispered. “She said she’d teach Ashley for free.” She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her as naturally as if he’d held her a thousand times before.
“Suck it up, partner,” he gently chided. She took a deep breath. He was g
etting used to some emotional displays, not that he could blame her. However, he was used to seeing her control them, too. The lioness was quite a woman.
He’d hunt down a piano for them immediately and pay for the tuning, too. Ashley needed a quality sound.
His cell rang. He connected with one hand while keeping the other arm around Kristin. Dave Evans, returning his earlier call. Great. His pals were coming through. He’d be happy to pass any news on to Kristin—good or bad. But hopefully good.
“I SUPPOSE IF NO NEWS IS good news, then we have good news,” said Kristin the next afternoon. Rick and the dog had stopped by with an update, and now the adults were enjoying a cold drink on the back porch while Ashley and Quincy were outside playing.
“But Kris, we have had news,” he replied patiently. “I’ve been assured by two extremely reliable sources that the case is still wide open. It hasn’t been pushed aside. No one on your local force has forgotten about Ashley.”
“I’m grateful for that, but I guess I was hoping for a catch…you know, what do you call it when the cops get the guy?”
“A collar.”
“Yeah. That’s it. With the DNA they have, I was hoping, even though I know they would have called me if that had happened.”
Unexpectedly, he reached for her hands and enclosed them in his own. “Kris, the DNA doesn’t match any registered sex offender in the area….”
She liked his touch, how he pressed her fingers, communicating with her. A tender message of comfort. It had been so long…She refocused on the conversation.
“So maybe a new guy came to town. Maybe he’s living there.”
“Or maybe he’s come and already gone,” Rick said. “But whatever the case, Ashley has to move forward—even if the perp is never caught. You know that, Kris.”
Now, he was stroking her bare arm. She shivered, then felt hot. Pathetic.
She nodded. “That’s my goal. And we’re trying.”
“And that is exactly what I admire about you,” he said. “No one is a fiercer mother than a lioness, and when I see you with Ashley, I also hear you roar.”
“Oh, my goodness. You’re making me emotional again, but I’m sucking it up!” She extracted one of her hands and clasped it over his. “I haven’t thanked you yet, Rick, for your time. Your interest. You’ve been great. I really appreciate all you’ve done.”
Linda Barrett - Count on a Cop Page 7