Child of Mine: a psychological thriller

by Chambers, V. J.

  The camera was empty of files. She knew that. But if Simon had copies of any of the photographs anywhere, that could be trouble.

  “Calm down, Lorelei,” said the voice of Isaac over the phone. “Did you talk to him, like I asked you to?”

  “I did,” she said. “At first he lied to me about the pictures, though. And then when I finally got him to tell me about them, he said he just took the pictures and then left the girls. He says he doesn’t know what happened. But he also said that the night that he took photos of Brittany is the night she went missing. It’s bad, Isaac, it looks bad.”

  Mia appeared next to her. “Who are you talking to?”

  Lorelei shook her head at her friend, turning her back and curling around the phone, as if this would somehow make her conversation private.

  Mia poked her on the shoulder. “You need a lawyer, Lorelei. Do you want me to call someone?”

  “It might look bad, but you know he’s innocent, don’t you?” said Isaac. “He’s a good kid.”

  Lorelei licked her lips. “I always thought he was.”

  “You can’t doubt him, Lorelei,” said Isaac. “You can’t doubt our son.”

  “Oh, Jesus, Isaac, for fuck’s sake, I’ve told you a million times—”

  “So, you found some picture that from that angle made Simon kind of look like him. You did it to keep me away.”

  “I don’t want you away. I’m calling because I want your help. I want you to get in touch with Temperance. Ask her to come. Bring her here. We need someone like her.”

  Mia furrowed her brow. “Who are you calling?”

  “Bring her? You want me there?” said Isaac.

  “Please,” Lorelei said. “I feel out of my depth. You have ties in the Bureau still. Maybe that can help. I need help.”

  Mia leaned forward. “Is it someone from the FBI?”

  Jeremy slammed the door shut on Simon, trapping him in the police car.

  Lorelei flinched.

  “All right, Lor,” said Isaac. “I’ll be there. I’ll bring Temperance. You hold on, okay? Hold on.”

  “Thank you,” she said into the phone. “Thank you.”

  They said their goodbyes, and then she hung up. The police cars were leaving now. She hurried over to her own car.

  But Mia stopped her. “Oh, no. You’re not driving. I’ll take you. And you need to tell me everything.”

  Lorelei debated fighting it, but she was actually glad of Mia’s help. She could use someone right now.

  “Come on,” said Mia, gesturing at Jordan, who was standing at the edge of the road, staring off in the wake of the police cars. She looked shell shocked. Mia turned back to Lorelei. “Who did you call? You don’t have anyone. You always tell me that you have no one, and so I’ve always been there for you. And now, this, you call—”

  “I don’t have anyone. I mean, I’ve cut ties with him, but he still works for the FBI, and he may be able to help in some way, even if he can just get information that I can’t, you know? For Simon, I have to try everything. Call anyone.”

  “Of course.” Mia put her arm around her. “For our children, we do anything.”

  Lorelei nodded.

  “Jordan!” Mia bellowed.

  Jordan’s head snapped up and then she scurried over, like a frightened squirrel.

  “Go get the car,” said Mia. “We’re taking Lorelei to the police station.”

  “What’s going to happen to Simon?” said Jordan.

  “I don’t know,” said Lorelei. “I don’t know.”

  * * *

  “You dated him?” said Mia. “You were engaged to him?”

  “Well, practically,” said Lorelei. “But then things happened, and it didn’t work out between us. I met Simon’s father, and I started seeing him behind Isaac’s back. But I couldn’t bear to tell Isaac that, so I just broke things off and left. We weren’t much for talking about things that weren’t work related, you know.”

  “So, you and Isaac worked cases together?”

  “Occasionally,” said Lorelei. “We put together a few profiles together. It wasn’t always the two of us together on a case, but it could be. Even if we weren’t working on the same killer, we’d sometimes talk about what we were doing together on our off hours, bounce ideas off each other, that kind of thing. We were very close in that way. He and I had a lot in common. We were both driven and cerebral and totally focused on our work.”

  “So, you were happy with him?” said Mia. “And Simon’s father? You never talk about him.”

  Lorelei shrugged. “You’re not a font of information about Jordan’s father either.”

  Mia glanced in the rearview mirror at her daughter and then gave Lorelei a reproachful look.

  Lorelei shrugged and looked out the window.

  “Jordan, your father was a very nice man,” said Mia. “But, as you know, he was called into active duty in Afghanistan right after I found out I was pregnant. He was killed saving civilians from an enemy bomb. He died a hero.”

  Lorelei turned back to Mia, gaping. She knew all of that was an absolute fabrication. Mia said she’d gone through a phase right before Jordan’s birth, a series of one night stands. Mia’s therapist theorized that Mia was angry about the fact that her life was all planned out for her, that she had no choice but to take over the family business and do what all Dawsons had done for generations. Mia had wanted adventure in her life, and sexual adventure had fit the bill.

  At any rate, Mia had narrowed down Jordan’s father to one of two or three men, none of whom had showed any interest when she’d informed them that she might be pregnant. Since she wasn’t hurting financially and had no need of child support, Mia had let the entire matter drop and not pursued it.

  Lorelei couldn’t believe that Mia had lied to Jordan about her father.

  Of course, Lorelei had lied to Simon too, but that was different.

  Mia stared straight ahead, at the road. “Well, perhaps this isn’t something we should be talking about in front of the children.”

  The child, thought Lorelei. Because there weren’t two children back there. Simon was down at the station without her. She only hoped he had the sense to keep quiet until she got there. As long as Simon refused to be interrogated without her presence, they’d be okay, because the minute she got there, she was going to refuse to allow him to talk until they had a lawyer.

  Temperance Anderson was the best. She and her husband Dexter had been friends of hers when she was together with Isaac. The four of them went on long weekends together occasionally. Skiing or to the lake or the ocean. They had dinner and drinks together twice a month or so. Temperance would always talk about her cases, about the people she had to defend. She was tough as nails in the courtroom. She hated to lose.

  Lorelei wasn’t sure how she was going to pay her, but that was something she’d work out later.

  When they got to the station, Lorelei was taken in to see Simon immediately, considering he’d been adamant that he couldn’t talk to anyone unless his mom was there.

  When she got to the interrogation room, Jeremy was leaning over the table where Simon was huddled up, with his head in his hands. He was crying.

  She wanted to wring Jeremy Walsh’s neck. That jackass. “You’re not supposed to be interrogating him without me present,” she said to him.

  A camera was set up behind Jeremy’s head. It didn’t look on. No lights were blinking. Still, Lorelei didn’t trust that.

  Jeremy just smiled. “I haven’t been interrogating him. We’re just chatting.”

  Simon sniffled, wiping at his eyes.

  She put her arm around him. “What did you say to him?”

  “Nothing,” said Jeremy. “He just started crying. Probably regrets what he’s done.”

  She stuck out her chin. “We’ve called a lawyer. We don’t have anything to say until we confer with her.”

  “Lawyering up, huh?” said Jeremy. “That’s a sure sign of guilt.”

  She
tightened her grip on her son’s shoulders. She wasn’t going to let him badger her into saying something she’d regret. And Simon needed to stay quiet too. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she whispered to Simon. “Don’t listen to him.”

  Jeremy sat down opposite them, leaning back. “So, how you convincing these girls to take off their clothes for you, Simon? Most guys your age probably want to know that trick.”

  “I’m not,” said Simon, sitting straight up. His voice was wavering from the tears.

  “Simon,” she said.

  “When I take the pictures, they’re dressed,” said Simon. “I don’t even understand that stuff.”

  “That stuff?” said Jeremy.

  Simon wiped at his eye with the heel of his hand. “Naked stuff. I just don’t get why it makes people act so weird.”

  “Simon.” She shook her head at him. “Don’t say anything to him.”

  “So, you did take pictures of Brittany Lewis?” said Jeremy. “And others too? Who else have you taken pictures of?”

  She shook her head at Simon, squeezing his shoulder.

  Simon shrugged her hand off.

  She took a deep breath and removed her arm from his shoulders. She knew that touch sometimes upset him. He was too sensitive. He couldn’t handle it. She clasped her hands together.

  Simon started to rock.

  “Simon?” said Jeremy. “Who else?”

  “We’re waiting for our lawyer,” said Lorelei said evenly.

  Jeremy leaned back in his chair, stretching. He cradled his head with his hands, looking relaxed. “Well, how long’s that going to take, huh? Might as well have a little bit of chatter to pass the time, right? And we already know he takes pictures of girls.”

  Simon rocked harder.

  “Stop that,” said Jeremy.

  “He can’t,” said Lorelei.

  “Oh, what the hell ever, he can’t.” Jeremy scoffed. “He’s doing that to piss me off.”

  “Jeremy, he’s anxious.”

  “When we left, they were fine,” Simon said. “They were fine.”

  “What?” said Jeremy. “When who left? Who’s ‘we’? And who was fine? Who’s ‘they’?”

  Simon kept rocking. “I think they were drunk, though. Maybe they went walking in the back of the building, down the bank over to the river. Maybe they fell in.”

  “What are you telling me? You telling me that you dumped bodies in the river? Where?”

  “Stop talking, Simon,” said Lorelei, and she grabbed his shoulder again.

  “Mom!” Simon turned on her, baring his teeth.

  She recoiled, instinctively trying to get away from the feral expression on his face.

  Jeremy sat up straight. “Give me names, Simon. Tell me who’s in the river.”

  There was a knock at the door of the interrogation room.

  Oh, God. Temperance must be here. That was quick. Lorelei had thought it might be hours longer.

  Jeremy made an annoyed face and went to the door. He opened it a crack. He peered at the person outside. “What?”

  “You might want to come out here for a minute,” said a disembodied voice.

  Jeremy sighed. And then he left the room.

  Wait. What the hell was that all about?

  Lorelei picked at her fingernails. Maybe it wasn’t Temperance.

  Simon hugged himself. “I want to go home, Mom.”

  She reached out for him. “I know, honey.”

  He ducked away from her touch.

  She retracted her hand. “We can’t leave, though. They have the right to hold you for questioning for a certain period of time.” She wished she could remember this. It was twenty-four hours. Or maybe seventy-two. She didn’t know.

  “But why?” Simon’s voice cracked. “I didn’t do anything.”

  Her heart went out to him. She felt so helpless. For Simon’s entire life, she’d done whatever she could to keep him safe, and now, at the moment when he needed her most, she couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t even take him home. It was maddening.

  “Why don’t you want me to tell him about the pictures?”

  “There aren’t any pictures, Simon.” She glared at him. “They’re probably recording us.” She gestured at the camera.

  “It’s not on yet, Mom,” said Simon. “Jeremy said he wasn’t going to turn it on yet. Then he started all this stuff to me about naked girls and… and…” Simon’s face twisted. He looked disgusted.

  “What did he say?”

  Simon studied his hands, looking embarrassed. “I don’t want to tell you.”

  She drew in a shaky breath. “If you don’t want to tell me, then I don’t think he should have said it.”

  “Well, he did say it,” said Simon. “And if I just show him the pictures—”

  “You can’t,” she said. “They’re gone.”

  “Someone has copies,” said Simon.

  “What?” She felt as if she’d been suddenly hit by a speeding train. “Someone?” Who was Simon sharing these pictures with? “What do you mean?”

  “The guy I take the pictures with,” said Simon. “My friend.”

  “You take pictures with someone else?”

  Simon nodded. “He helps me. He has copies.”

  “Who is this friend?”

  Simon shook his head. “You don’t know him.”

  “Well, tell me his name. Maybe he’s killing the girls.”

  Simon gave her a horrified look. “No. He would never…” But then Simon swallowed hard and looked confused. “He was with me the whole time.”

  “Last time, you went to Jordan’s and fell asleep,” she said in a rough whisper. And then she stared at the camera. What if it was on?

  “It’s not on, Mom,” said Simon, giving her a withering look. “And… he was with me.”

  “He went with you to Jordan’s house? Jordan knows him?”

  “Just forget I said anything about him,” said Simon.

  “He didn’t go with you there,” said Lorelei. “He wasn’t with you. You don’t know where he was. He’s probably the person who—”

  And then the door opened again and Jeremy came inside. He looked grim. The glee from before had disappeared from his face. He went over to the camera and hit a button. A red light started to blink. Then he sat down heavily in front of them. “Let’s, um, let’s talk about Darla Robinson and Calico Walker,” he said.

  “We’re not talking about anything,” said Lorelei. “I told you, we’re waiting for our lawyer.”

  “Did you know them?” said Jeremy.

  “Not really,” said Simon.

  “Simon!” She was exasperated. “You don’t have to answer his questions.”

  Simon glared at her. “But if I could just show him that they weren’t naked—”

  “You took pictures of those girls, then, too?” said Jeremy. “And you killed them. And who’d you dump in the river? We know that wasn’t Darla and Calico, but we don’t have another missing persons case.”

  “Wait, what?” said Lorelei. “Did they find those girls? Are those girls dead?”

  “Damn it,” muttered Jeremy. He dragged a hand over his face.

  Lorelei rolled her eyes. He probably wasn’t supposed to reveal that to them. He wasn’t very good at interrogation, was he? She leaned forward, putting her palm on the table. “Listen, the fact that Simon even mentioned the river proves it’s not him. He doesn’t know the details of where the girls were found. You just said it wasn’t the river. He’s not giving you anything to connect him to—”

  “He’s smart,” Jeremy growled. “He’s trying to throw me off. You’re helping him.”

  “He didn’t do it,” said Lorelei. “Listen, there’s someone else—”

  “No, there’s not,” Simon yelled.

  “Simon, if we tell him about your friend—”

  “I don’t have a friend.” Simon stood up. “Don’t listen to her. Don’t listen to anything she says.” His voice was growing higher and higher in
pitch.

  Jeremy looked back and forth between them, alarmed. “What’s this?”

  Simon sniffed, squared his shoulders, and seemed to compose himself entirely. He sat back down in his chair and took a deep breath. Calmly, looking Jeremy square in the eye, he said in a low voice, “I’m not saying anything. We’re waiting for the lawyer.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Temperance finally showed up, and she conferred with Lorelei and Simon together briefly before asking Lorelei if she could talk to Simon alone.

  “Why?” said Lorelei. “I’m his mother. I need to know everything.”

  “Yes, of course,” said Temperance. “But he’s a teenager. He might not want to open up to you about everything. I understand there’s something about naked pictures of girls—”

  “No,” said Lorelei.

  “No,” said Simon.

  Temperance shrugged. “I’m on his side, Lorelei. I’m on both of your sides.”

  Lorelei sighed. But she actually thought a few minutes out of the interrogation room might help her calm down. And maybe Simon would find it easier to open up to Temperance. So she agreed. “Get him to tell you about his friend, please,” she said.

  Isaac was out in the front room of the station, sitting on a bench. When he saw her, he got up and came over to her.

  They embraced.

  “Thank you so much for bringing Temperance,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d be doing if she wasn’t going to be here. This is getting so crazy. They found the bodies of the two other girls.”

  “I know,” said Isaac. “I was calling around for information, and I managed to talk to one of the officers who’s been on the scene. He was a little cagey, said they weren’t ready to call in the FBI yet or anything like that, but I got him to give me some details. He wouldn’t give me everything, but I think if I push a little, dig around, I can find out more. What I’m hearing, though, is that the bodies are staged.”

  “Staged?” She rubbed her chin. “How?”

  “Well, I don’t know details,” he said. “But the guy said it was similar to the way they found the first girl, and that when they found her, they had concerns this might be what he called ‘a real wacko.’”