by A. S. French
‘It must have been terrible for you.’
Grace let go of the wheel and rubbed her fingers across her knuckles. There was something in her eyes, a glimpse of a shadow, which Astrid recognised from her own past: a trauma not fully addressed.
‘After the first few hours, it wasn’t so bad.’ She raised one finger to her lips and bit on the nail. ‘I think it did me good.’
Astrid stared at her. ‘Falling down the well did you some good?’
‘I was average sized when I fell, but I started shooting up in height the following year. Gran was an evolutionary biologist, and she always joked I only grew so tall because my brain was telling me if I fell down another large hole, I’d be able to climb my way out of it.’
Astrid enjoyed seeing Grace happy, even though she wasn’t sure how forced it was. The car’s digital clock hit eight, and Burns stepped out of the station on time. He glanced around as if aware someone was watching him before turning towards the beaten-up truck in the parking lot.
‘Shall we follow him?’ Grace said.
Astrid had considered what her options were on this second day of a new partnership, the places she needed to be and the people she had to talk to. Following Burns was a long shot to finding Alex, but there was something about Katie Spencer’s death that nagged at the back of her head. She was about to reply when there was a loud rap of knuckles on the car.
Grace opened the window and spoke to the teenager staring at them. ‘What do you want, Heath?’
The kid pulled at the top of his shirt. ‘The Senator sent this for you.’ He handed her an envelope. ‘He said there’s no need for a reply.’
With that, he scuttled off down the street. Grace handed it to Astrid.
‘It’s addressed to you.’
She ripped it open and removed the card. ‘I’ve been invited to a fundraising gathering at Brady’s mansion tomorrow night; me and a plus one. Do you have a party dress?’
‘You want to go?’ Grace twisted her face in surprise.
‘Why not?’ Astrid ran her fingers across the card’s gloss and examined the golden ink that spelt her name. ‘It’ll give me a chance to slip away and poke around inside that place. It’s better than having to break in.’
Grace squashed her lips together and shook her head. ‘He’ll be up to something; there’s always an ulterior motive with Brady.’
‘Great; we’ll be able to turn his arrogance against him.’
Grace watched Manny drive away. ‘What now?’
Astrid stared at the truck, wondering if trailing the old man was the priority, quickly deciding it wasn’t. ‘We’ll speak to Burns later. Where’s the Coroner’s office?’
‘It’s inside our biggest hospital. I’ll text Dr Jones to let her know we’re coming.’
Grace started the engine and turned the car in the opposite direction.
Astrid stared at the invitation to Brady’s party as they drove. This was one of the few places she’d been to across the world where the streets didn’t feature the homeless and the destitute.
‘Angel Springs appears not to suffer from the social ills most towns do. I know I haven’t been here long, but I’ve seen little of drug addiction or beggars.’
But don’t forget the missing kids.
‘We have several charities who supply food and shelter for those who can’t afford it, most of which are funded by various churches.’
‘If a society can’t provide the fundamentals of life to all of its population, regardless of circumstances, then it doesn’t deserve to call itself civilised.’
‘Did you read that somewhere?’
Astrid shook her head. ‘Just something I learnt from being homeless.’
She gave a summary of her time as a dispossessed runaway. Grace parked the car outside the hospital, and they got out.
‘It must have been hard for you, living like that.’
‘It was less dangerous than where I’d spent the first fourteen years of my life.’
She left those words hanging in the air and climbed up the steps. The sign for the Coroner’s office pointed around the corner, past the ambulance bay and the section for paediatrics. Grace’s phone vibrated with a new message.
‘Dr Jones is in the morgue.’
They marched inside together. The hallway was spacious and modern; everything which could shine did. Astrid took deep breaths as they strode through the corridor. As a young girl, she’d spent too many hours in such places, holding her pain inside as she watched her father convince nurses and doctors his younger daughter was the most accident-prone child in the world.
They followed the signs down a long corridor. A bored security guard sat outside the entrance to the morgue. He lifted his sunken eyes and nodded to Grace as they approached and went through the door.
There was a space with coolers for storing bodies and the autopsy suite for examinations. At the far end, Briana Jones was stuffing her mouth with a bacon sandwich as she stood over a fresh corpse. As they got closer, the smell of exposed brains and congealed blood drifted over them.
‘Hit and run victim,’ the Coroner said as she wiped her fingers on her coat and shook Astrid’s hand. Behind her was a board where she’d written notes.
‘Did you manage to complete Katie Spencer’s autopsy?’ Grace said.
Jones raised her eyebrows. ‘Of course I did. Do you want to see her?’ Astrid nodded. ‘Well, follow me, ladies.’ She led them to the coolers, stopping two rows in and pulling the first drawer towards her. The girl’s face looked less traumatic than the last time Astrid had seen it. ‘As I said at the scene, Ms Spencer died from a massive inhalation of water. The blow to her head would have rendered her unconscious when she hit the surface. There are no signs of foul play.’
Astrid’s gaze lingered on the teenager’s pale features. ‘Have the police checked to see where Katie’s point of entry into the river was?’
Jones shrugged. ‘The river is five miles long. I don’t think they’ll bother now they know it was an accident.’
‘Or someone made it look like an accident,’ said Astrid. She addressed the Doctor. ‘What did you determine about her wounds?’
‘Self-inflicted over a few years, I’d say.’ Dr Jones seemed confident in her opinion. Astrid turned to Grace. ‘You said Katie ran away from her home two months ago.’
‘That’s what they told social services,’ Grace replied.
‘So where has she been all this time?’
Astrid moved from the kid’s body and Dr Jones closed the drawer. Grace caught up with her as she headed for the door.
‘Maybe she’s been living in the woods, camping or in one of the caves.’
‘There are caves?’
‘This was a mining town a long time ago, and some of the entrances are still there, even though they’ve been condemned, and we’ve warned people not to go near them. That doesn’t stop some.’
‘Thanks for your help, Doc,’ Astrid shouted before they left.
‘Do you think someone was keeping Katie against her will, maybe out in the woods?’
They were nearly out of the hospital when Astrid stopped and faced her partner. ‘Why were those two Detectives there if it was only an accident?’
Grace pondered the question. ‘It might have been reported as a homicide at first, so they would have gone straight there until they knew better.’
‘Yes, but Jones knew immediately, and she would have told them it wasn’t murder. They were already at the scene before we got there. I saw them speaking to Burns as we made our way up.’
They left the building and headed for the car.
‘So why do you think they were there?’
Astrid considered the question. ‘I don’t know, but we should find out.’
12 Kids in America
She got Grace to stop at the convenience store after they left the hospital. There was something she needed before they arrived at the place Katie Spencer had run from. Astrid ignored the stares from red
-faced blokes and women who looked half-awake, stepping into the store while Grace waited in the car. A soundless TV played on the wall, beaming out Bob Brady’s face. She thought of the party invite and considered buying something to take for him. She grabbed a packet of Twinkies as she searched for the main reason she was there, spotting them behind the counter. She paid with the last of her change before slipping everything into her jacket.
‘You didn’t get me a present?’
‘Why, Officer, we hardly know each other.’ They set off for the home. ‘Do you know this place?’
Crowley shook her head. ‘I’d guess it’s no better or worse than most of the care homes in town.’
They arrived just before ten o’clock. As Astrid got out of the car, groups of kids loitered around the building, appearing half-bored and suspicious of any adults. They narrowed their eyes and peered at Astrid and Grace as if they were alien invaders.
Astrid stared at them and tried not to remember what she was doing at their age. ‘Why aren’t they at school?’
Grace pursed her lips. ‘Too disruptive, I guess. Most of the schools in Angel Springs take a hard line with students who misbehave, and if the kids are sent home, they’re supposed to stay off the streets during school hours.’
Most of them continued their activities and ignored the adults. As Astrid strode up the stairs, she noticed the girl with the black-rimmed eyes wearing a t-shirt she recognised. They stared straight through each other, Astrid feeling as if she’d stepped back in time. She shook her mother’s voice from her head as invisible scars returned to irritate her.
The kid turned away as they went inside the building.
It was a cheerless place, even though someone had tried their best to brighten everything up, scattering random coloured posters over the walls. Dotted in between were displays showing the rules and regulations of the establishment.
Do not steal.
Do not lie.
Do not swear.
Do not fight.
Do not back talk to adults.
Do not enter other people’s bedrooms without permission.
Always knock on the bathroom door before entering, wash hands after using, flush toilet, and put toilet seat down.
Always pick up your toys or anything you were using and put them back.
Do not eat in your bedroom or any other room other than the kitchen and dining room area without permission. Always put your dishes away.
No cell phone or computers in the bedroom after bedtime.
* * *
Astrid read through them in her head, the echo of them returning her to the family home and her father’s words.
‘You’ll do as you’re told, child. Listen to me and follow the rules. If you don’t, you know what will happen.’
But even when she followed the rules, the inevitable still arrived. A new voice dragged her into the present.
‘Can I help?’
The receptionist was as perky as the walls, teeth glittering through a set of braces. Grace placed her badge on the desk.
‘Can we speak to the person in charge?’
The playful smile dissolved in an instant. The receptionist reached for a phone, pressed one number, and then whispered down the line. ‘Miss Conway will be out to see you soon, if you’d take a seat.’ She pointed over Grace’s shoulder.
Astrid followed the direction and sat down. Kids sauntered in and out of the building with barely a smile between them. There were times during her childhood, before running away for the last time, when she’d longed to live in a place like this; wished for anywhere but the family home. She wondered how much her life would have changed if someone had spotted the abuse she suffered. All it would have taken was a teacher, or nurse, or doctor, or any adult to recognise what was happening and to believe her, and the whole of her existence would have been different.
And what would have happened to those I’ve helped since then? I saved children and adults while working for the Agency. Would someone else have been there for them, or would they have suffered or died because I wasn’t there? Would my trauma have been transferred to others? My past informs my present, for better or worse.
Grace’s voice brought her out of the internal dialogue. ‘Do you believe Katie Spencer’s death is connected to Alex’s disappearance?’
It had been a constant question since the discovery of Katie’s body. ‘In towns like this, there’s always going to be links between missing kids.’
Grace nodded, but Astrid didn’t think she looked too convinced. In truth, there were no further leads for Alex beyond her ordeal at Bob Brady’s youth compound.
A young woman with permed hair and a glittering smile bounced towards them. ‘Hi there, I’m Bella Conway. What can I do for you today?’
Grace stood and shook her hand. ‘Do you have somewhere private to talk?’
Conway grimaced. ‘Oh no, we don’t do anything behind closed doors here; everything is out in the open.’
Adults and kids wandered around them, shooting cursory glances at the intruders in their midst.
Grace stepped in closer. ‘This is about Katie Spencer, Miss Conway.’
Conway’s shoulders slumped. ‘Ah, Katie; everyone here knows of her unfortunate accident.’ She glanced at her staff and the children. ‘We’ve encouraged people to speak up and not hide their feelings.’ She was a walking, talking advert for positivity, regardless of the situation. ‘We can’t allow negativity to invade our community.’
‘Did Katie have many friends here?’ Astrid said.
Conway beamed at them and answered the question by not answering it. ‘We never interfere in the private lives of our residents.’ She spoke as if talking about hotel guests. ‘The residential programme we provide is live-in out-of-home care placement. Our staff are trained to work with children and young people whose specific needs are best addressed in a highly structured environment. These placements are time-limited and offer a higher level of structure and supervision than those provided in the home. We offer guidance and organisation which they can’t often get anywhere else, even in school.’
She grinned like a maniacal cat. ‘And everyone gets along famously.’ It was like listening to the speaking clock. ‘We provide activities and events which contribute to cementing the links between residents and staff.’ Pride filled her eyes as she spoke. ‘Like most places, there is the odd teething problem, but I can confidently say we are the best-run facility of this kind in the area, and perhaps across the whole of the United States.’
‘So why did she run away?’ Grace said.
Astrid watched Conway’s hackles rise above her head. ‘Some children are beyond help, no matter what you try and do for them.’
Astrid peered at her, hearing the words, but they came from her mother’s mouth. ‘You’re saying Katie ran away because she was unhappy?’
Isn’t that why all kids run away?
Conway glanced at the ceiling, a slight tremble in her lips not interfering with her constant smile.
‘I guess she must have been, but I don’t know why. She never displayed any signs of unhappiness and, as far as I’m aware, never spoke to anyone here about any problems she might have had.’ She regained her composure. ‘Katie had her own room and possessions with everything she needed here.’
‘You reported her missing to the police?’
Conway stuck out her shoulders and chest. ‘No, we report any prolonged absences to social services first, and then they pass it on to the police.’ She glanced at Grace. ‘I’m sure Officer Crowley is aware of this.’
Astrid moved towards her. ‘Can we see where she stayed, look at her possessions?’ She wanted to examine the place the girl was supposedly happy in.
‘I’m sorry, no; not without official clearance. We have a duty of care to uphold for all our residents.’
Astrid brushed past Conway as Grace was about to speak.
‘It’s a shame you didn’t think about that when Katie was alive.’ She st
ormed out of the door with her hackles rising, scratching at her palm as a trickle of blood appeared on her skin.
Grace followed her outside. ‘Well, that was a waste of time.’
‘Perhaps, perhaps not.’ Astrid strode towards the kid with the dark eyes she’d noticed earlier; she guessed her age to be about fourteen.
The girl turned from her phone and glared at Astrid. ‘What?’ She chewed gum and blew a giant pink bubble at the adults. Then she sucked it back into her mouth and the air smelt of strawberries. Astrid extinguished the negativity she’d acquired from Conway and spoke to the teenager.
‘You call yourself Polly, even though it’s not your given name. All you think about is leaving here when you’re sixteen, but you don’t need to wait until then. You can start your new life anytime you want, and I’ll tell you how to do it.’
She reached into her jacket, finding what she’d bought from the store and throwing it at the startled girl. The kid caught it without blinking an eye, still chewing as if it was about to go out of fashion.
‘I don’t talk to cops.’
Astrid pointed to the building opposite. ‘We’re going there if you’d like to eat. I’ll buy you whatever you want.’ She stepped down and turned to the girl before she left. ‘And I’m the farthest thing from a copper you’re ever likely to meet. I hate them as much as you do.’
She crossed the road with Grace scampering in her wake. Astrid was inside the waffle house before her friend caught up with her. She smiled at the waitress and grabbed the menu as Grace scowled. They took the largest booth available. Grace grimaced as she twisted her hips.
‘You can’t give that kid a packet of cigarettes.’
‘Apparently, I can.’
‘I can arrest you for that.’
Astrid held out her wrists in supplication. ‘You can cuff me anytime, Officer Crowley.’
Grace scratched at her throat and coughed. ‘And what’s this about hating the police?’