by Eli Constant
Oh the brilliant childhood of a kid that can commune with the dead.
“How is the man not four hundred pounds?” I laugh, picking up a piece of bacon and tearing at it with my teeth. It’s been fully cooked. And that means it’s crunchy and greasy and delicious instead of being limp-noodle and wet like some diners serve it.
We both laugh because Steve is one of the thinnest men on the planet. I think his lower body could quite literally fit into the leg of one of my jeans.
“Probably because Laurie doesn’t let him eat anything but rabbit food at home. He comes in here, bellyaching about kale and parsnips, and then downs the farmer’s special like there’s no tomorrow coming.”
“I’m going to have to remember that the next time Terrance invites me to a potluck. Roast parsnips and cream kale for the win.”
Shannon grimaces. “Remind me to avoid the next potluck when the time comes.”
We laugh again. “Thanks, Shannon.”
“No problem. And, just F.Y.I., Mr. Barrington just pulled in.” She wipes her hands on her apron and smiles sadly. “He’s the sweetest old man. It’s so sad what happened to his son.”
“It is sad.” I wonder if Shannon knows about Timothy’s particular situation or if Mr. Barrington only introduces Timothy as, well, Timothy to strangers. “After he orders, can you let him know that I’d like to speak with him?”
“Sure, hon.” Shannon walks away. She looks even more pregnant today, her apron barely tied in the back.
It’s a few minutes before Mr. Barrington joins me in my booth. “Morning, Ms. Cage. It’s awfully nice to see you this morning.”
“You too, Mr. Barrington.”
“I told you to call me Allen. Please.”
“And I told you to call me Tori.” We smile at one another. “Thanks so much for coming over to talk to me. I know things haven’t been easy lately.”
He shakes his head. “No, they certainly haven’t been easy. Tess called me yesterday evening in one of her fits. Going on and on about how the police were bothering them over Timothy’s death.” He sighs. “Bothering them. It’s hard to imagine that that woman gave birth to my compassionate and kind boy.”
“They shouldn’t have been surprised really. It was only a matter of time before the police asked them some questions. She is Timothy’s mother after all.”
“Yes,” he bobs his head up and down once, “but, in her warped mind, Timothy’s been dead for a long time. Or, Amanda’s been dead for a long time.”
Shannon comes up then, two warmed scones and a mug of coffee in hand. “Here you go, Allen.”
“Thank you, Shannon. It’s always nice to come in here and see your face before going to see my Timothy.” He smiles at her and pats her hand before it leaves the plate of food.
“You just call out whatever you need, okay? I’ll bring it over in a jiff.” There’s a warmth to Shannon’s face that isn’t normally there. She’s always nice and she’s relatively attractive, but you can tell that she genuinely cares about Allen. She turns away and then back again, “And, Allen, Doug and I have decided on a name for the baby. If you wouldn’t mind us using Timothy.”
Doug? Like... coroner Doug? My mind does flip-flops.
I look from Shannon to Allen. His eyes are filling with tears, quickly and violently, and suddenly he’s crying. “Oh, that’s the nicest thing. I’d be honored. Timothy would be honored. You and Doug,” He lifts a napkin from the dispenser and dabs at his face, “you two have been such a bright light in this awful time. So kind. He doesn’t have to let me see my Timothy every day, but he does.”
Shannon bends down and hugs Allen around the neck. “It’s our honor to use his name, Allen. And if you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate.” She pulls away, crying herself now, and goes back to the counter to serve a ginger-haired woman and toddler who’ve just entered the shop.
“Allen, forgive me if I’m nosey, but I had no idea that Shannon and Doug were married.” I push at my eggs with my fork. They’ve gone cold already and there’s nothing worse than chilly eggs.
“Oh, yes. Not for long, though. The egg came before the chicken so to speak, so they eloped last fall. I think there are still quite a number of people who are unaware that they’re married now.”
“That’s wonderful. I mean, I heard Doug saying that his wife wasn’t pleased he’d had to work on a Sunday, but I never once thought to ask who his wife was. You’d think in a small town, I’d just know these things.”
“Oh, that’s the thing about small towns, even with wide open walls and loose lips, people still tend to have secrets.” Allen breaks off a piece of scone and dips it in his coffee. The tip of it dissolves, leaving behind a doughy residue in the black liquid.
I take a nibble of sausage, also cold, and then I think of what to say to move the conversation back to the case. I’m not sure what information I’m looking for, but there has to be some piece of the puzzle that will let us get a warrant for the Sherwin’s home. And I don’t know who to turn to, not if Allen has nothing that will get us through the door.
“Allen, has Terrance spoken with you about the case lately?” I try to sound casual, speaking around a rubbery bit of meat. “I mean, has he asked you anymore questions about Timothy, about his friends, what he did with his time, anything like that.”
“He’s asked me to come in on Monday, while Tess and her husband are there. I’m not sure why though. Having Tess and I in the room... it’s not always a good formula for civility.” He dips another piece of scone in his coffee.
I could tell him why Terrance wanted him there. He wants to knock Tess off her game, have her delusion about her dead daughter shaken. And it wouldn’t hurt to see how Doctor Sherwin reacted to Allen’s presence either.
“You should have seen us during Timothy’s appointments at their office.” Allen sighs.
But his words punch me in the gut.
“His appointments?”
“Yes, I told you that I often had to take Timothy to Doctor Sherwin’s medical practice. It was all I could do to let Tess’s vicious jabs roll off my back. We were there for Timothy, not for anything else. If Doctor Sherwin hadn’t been the best in the state, I would never have agreed to let Timothy see him. Thankfully, Mitchell is a wonderful doctor. How he can be married to my ex-shrew of a wife...” Allen’s voice is harsher than I’ve ever heard it as he talks about his ex-wife this morning.
“Allen, I don’t understand. Why would you be taking Timothy to see Doctor Sherwin?” It makes no sense—with what had happened between Timothy and his mother, between Allen and his ex-wife, why in the hell would he let his son see Mitchell Sherwin?
“He’s the best reconstructive surgeon in the state, Tori. I tried to convince Timothy to let me take him across state lines to Georgia, but he said that was silly, especially since Tess ignored him most of the visits. She would even make the point of commenting to someone else in front of him that her daughter Amanda died some time ago and the ‘boy’ sitting in the waiting room bore a likeness.” Allen pushes his plate and coffee away from him, toward the middle of the table. It clinks against my own mug, which sloshes amber liquid over the lip. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Tori. I just get so frustrated thinking back to how she treated him.”
“It’s fine, Allen. Please don’t worry.” I grab a wad of napkins and wipe up the coffee. When the mess is sopped up, I pile it on top of my half-eaten food and I push my own plate away also. It seems we’ve both lost our appetites. “Allen, why was Timothy seeing Doctor Sherwin?”
“He was going to perform his breast reduction surgery and, eventually, the following procedures for Timothy to become male... if he decided he wanted that. Darnell loved him just the way he was, without a single surgery. The last visit before Timothy disappeared, he voiced his doubts about having any procedures done.” Allen gets a strange look on his face then, thinking back. “It’s odd though, thinking about it. Doctor Sherwin was really trying to talk him out of changing his mind. I didn
’t think anything of it at the time, just a doctor doing his due diligence to make sure the patient thinks through his options thoroughly.”
“And that was how long before Timothy went missing?”
Allen raises his face, looks me in the eyes, and there’s a sliver of fear in his expression. Fear and disbelief. “A week. He disappeared a week later.”
I try to smile, to disarm Allen and dispel whatever he’s thinking, because there’s no sense in him worrying about how he was actively taking his son to see the man who would murder him. Of course, that’s what was running through my head.
And I wanted to be wrong. Really, really badly.
“Allen, I’m sure it’s all coincidence. Doctor Sherwin is a respected doctor and he’s married to Timothy’s mother. To me, those two things put him out of the running for big bad killer.” I try to distract myself by drinking some of my coffee. The mug is sticky from where the liquid sloshed over. And it’s already cooling, which makes it taste awful.
“Yes, yes.” Allen mutters, swiping his hand across his face and removing the glistening sweat that’s beaded along his brow. “I’m sure you’re right.”
I pull out my phone and feign surprise when I see the time. “Oh, Allen, I’m so sorry. I need to run. I’m supposed to meet someone across town.” I push my phone back into my jacket pocket and smile. “Thank you again for having breakfast with me. Are you still staying in town?”
“No, not anymore. Darnell has temporarily moved in with me, taking pity on an old man. He thinks it’s good that I get back to some sort of normal routine. He even makes dinner for me.” Allen laughs, but it’s a small weak sound. “He and Timothy would have been so happy together.”
“I’m sure they would have Allen.” I stand up and so does he. And we hug. We hug like two people who know the horrors of the world and the importance of human contact. Even though, to be totally fair, I’m not completely human.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I head straight to the police station from the coffee shop. And I hope that Terrance is there. It’s Saturday though and I know he tries to spend Saturdays with his wife and kids. As well he should. Because people should have a life outside of crime and death and blood.
People who aren’t me, that is.
“Sorry, the Chief’s not in today and we don’t expect him.” It’s Andrea sitting behind the front desk of the station. And I, in so many words, can’t stand the woman. Her voice is princess-y sharp, her eyes are vacant and blue, and she just rubs me the wrong way. Every. Single. Time.
“Look, Andrea,” I try to sound as nice as possible, “I’m helping the Chief out on an open case and I have full access. Can I get back there or can you go back there,” I point to Terrance’s office, “and find me any folders or papers that might pertain to a Doctor Sherwin.”
“Um... no.” She says it in a ‘duh’ sort of way that makes me want to pull her hair out by the pretty blond tips that don’t match the dark, muddy brown roots.
I close my eyes for a second, take a deep breath, and try to stay ‘zen’. That works for about three seconds. “Andrea, I don’t have time for your little games. You sit behind the desk at a police station, whoop-de-freaking-doo. You are not the President of the United States. So get me what I need, now.” I really didn’t want to have to call Terrance. He was enjoying a day with his family, a well-deserved day, but this bitch was about to not give me a choice.
She stands and I know instantly that I’ve blown this. Her mouth is pressed in a hard line and her eyes look murderous. “You will not talk to me like that. You might be on file as a consultant with the department, but you do not work here and you will not look at any damn files unless the Chief, to my face, tells me that you’re allowed to.”
Fuck, I mentally curse, mad at myself for losing my temper. Andrea is definitely one of those ‘catch more flies with honey’ sort of people and I had definitely not poured out any sweet stuff this interaction. “Andrea, please,” I hate how I almost sound like I’m whining or pleading, “please let me see those files.”
“No.” I see her right leg flinch and I wonder if she’s just stopped herself from stamping her foot in protest. I really, really hate this woman.
The bell attached to the top of the station door rings shrilly and I turn around to see Mei walking in with a huge bag of take out. From what I can see, Andrea’s the only one at the station right now.
“Hey, Mei!” My mood brightens instantly and she breaks out into a grin.
“Hey, Tori.” She walks up to the reception desk, struggling with the bag that’s nearly as big as she is, and she lifts it to land with a heavy flop onto the glossy surface of the counter. “That’ll be forty dollars and thirty-eight cents, Andrea.”
Andrea smiles. “Sure thing, let me go back and get the cash.”
Gee, it’s nice to know that Andrea can be nice to someone. Of course, Mei is about the easiest person to get along with that every lived.
I turn to Mei when Andrea’s out of sight and I nearly leap into her arms for a hug. Of course, I don’t. There’s no way on earth her petite body could support mine. “Where have you been all my life,” I groan into her ear.
“Um, literally right here.” She laughs, hugging me back. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been around for every important event in your life, Tori. Are you okay?”
“Just a shit day and I,” I push away from her body and flick a thumb in the direction of where Andrea’s gone, “absolutely cannot stand that woman.”
“Oh, Andrea’s not that bad. She’s got a little chip on her shoulders sometimes, but you just have to know how to talk to her.” She gives me a ‘knowing’ look and then speaks again, “And, I’d bet good money, that you don’t always talk to her nicely.”
“Hey, that’s not fair. I always try to be nice.” I grimace, contorting my mouth in a way that feels odd. “Most of the time.”
“Right, sure you do.”
“Well, it’s her fault this time. I just needed to see some files, files that it’s more than okay for me to see because I’m helping Terrance with the case, but will she let me see them. No.” I drag out the ‘no’ until it’s passed just into ‘comedy’ land.
“Have you ever thought that maybe Andrea’s doing her job? That it’s really not okay for her to let a civilian look through open case files?”
“But I’m helping Terrance out—”
She raises a hand, “Yes, you’re helping Terrance out on a case. I get it. But if he hasn’t made it expressly clear that you have full access, then she is doing the only thing she can do. Her job.” Mei smiles, trying to soften the truth to me so I don’t get too pissed with her.
I groan and now I’m the one fighting the urge to stamp my foot. “Fine. I get your point.”
Andrea comes back then, cash in hand. “Here you go. The guys are going to be starving when they get back from the Moody’s farm. I swear, anytime we get a call from them, it’s always an hours-long affair just to find out that, no, the neighbors did not abscond with their chickens.”
Mei laughs. “You know, I had to deliver to them last week and Mr. Moody showed up at the front door wearing nothing. Absolutely naked. And let me tell you, that is not a sight I’ll soon forget.”
The two women grimace and I’m suddenly feeling very much like the third wheel. And I don’t like that. Not one bit.
“Yeah, they’re a super weird family.” As soon as I speak, trying to interject myself into the conversation, Andrea gives me a cold look and all the niceness drains out of her face.
“The Moodys have lived here for eight generations. They may be a little different, but when you have ‘actual weird’,” she looks me up and down pointedly, “as a comparison, then they look perfectly normal.”
My mouth drops open. What. A. Bitch.
“Well, that would be my cue to leave. I’m sure the orders are piling up and I need my college pocket money.” Mei turns to me. “Hey, are we still on for next week? Dean and I are excited to double
with you and Kyle.”
Andrea looks from me to Mei, surprise in her eyes. I’d think it would be pretty common knowledge by now that Mei and I have been palling around lately, and even knew one another in high school. I mean, gossip doesn’t sleep in this town. Of course, I have no idea what Mei’s talking about. We’ve set up no such double date thing, but then I realize what she’s doing—she’s passive aggressively siding herself with me so that Andrea understands where her loyalty lies. I compose myself and respond, carrying forward the ruse.
“Sure, I’m looking forward to it and so is Kyle.”
“You don’t mean Kyle, Jim’s son, do you?” The surprise in Andrea’s voice matches the surprise on her face at learning that Mei and I are friends.
I look at her, wanting to bite her head off or say something equally as nasty as she had moments ago, but I don’t. Rising above and all that. I’m so good about that sort of thing (sure I am). “Yes, Jim’s son. He took over the bar.”
“Oh, I know,” she bites her lip and suddenly looks like a nervous teenager, “So... you two are dating?”
“Yes, have been for over six months now.”
“Oh, well, that’s nice.” Her voice was small now, with a salty edge.
I could tell that she didn’t think it was nice though. Andrea, little bitch front desk Andrea, had the hots for my beau. Well, if that’s not vindication, I don’t know what is.
“Well, thanks for your help, Andrea. I’ll be sure to tell Terrance how nice you were today.”
She stammers something behind me, but I walk out with Mei by my side—the best friend who, in one breath, could admonish me for not being kind to Andrea, but also take my side in the war of the worlds. Yeah, I’d take one of her over a whole gaggle of faux friends any day.