Back to Blue

by Dillon Watson

  “I don’t know if I could enjoy having to be on all the time. Must be exhausting.” Summer looked at her empty plate in surprise. She didn’t remember eating the spinach and egg croissant or the home fries. Good company obviously had a positive effect on her appetite. “What do you miss the most?”

  “The family I had on the show. The people. When we were shooting I saw more of them than I did of Eve. I don’t miss having to be on constantly, however. As you guessed, it’s exhausting. Everywhere I went, everything I did, someone was watching, ready to capture it on film. Being a writer suits me better. I get a lot of solitary time and I get the book tours to meet fans.” She crumpled her napkin and dropped it onto the plate. “I told myself I wasn’t going to bring this up. I lied. It’s obvious something happened to you and maybe if I knew I wouldn’t insert foot into mouth all the time.”

  Summer traced the pattern on the wooden tabletop with her finger. “It’s…complicated.”

  “I don’t know how much research you did on me, but I’m betting you stumbled over a story or two about my addictions. I understand complicated. There are some years I don’t remember very clearly. They’re a blur of parties, booze, drugs and sex.” Renny shook her coffee cup as though checking to see if it was empty. “From the way you talk I thought you might have the same kind of issues. Despite my behavior so far, I can listen without judging if you need to talk.”

  At least she doesn’t think I’m crazy was the first thing to come to Summer’s mind. “Issues, but not the same,” she admitted. “I was in a bad car wreck. When I came out of the coma two years ago I didn’t remember anything. With the exception of Keile, my memory dates back to then. I know I sometimes come off as stupid. It’s more that I don’t know what I’m expected to say or how I’m expected to act.”

  Renny reached for Summer’s hand. “Then can I say how impressed I am? I know how hard it is losing track of hours. Okay, maybe a day, but that much? Wow. And scary.”

  “Very scary. I owe a lot to my mother. She basically put her life on hold to help me. She still does somewhat.”

  “That makes you very lucky to have a seriously rich hippie mom who steps up when needed.”

  Summer heard the bitterness beneath Renny’s easy words. Not for the first time she wondered about the nature of Renny’s relationship with her mother. “I didn’t think so at first. She pushed, prodded and begged me to get out of bed, rejoin the world. Then she recruited the rest of my family to do their own brand of pushing, prodding, begging. I had to do something out of self-defense. Getting nagged by your mother and four older sisters is torture.”

  “What about your father? Was he around?”

  “Different style. More likely to bring a movie and pizza, tell me to put my feet up because he knows I’ve been worked to death. I realized later the movies, the conversations were his way of helping me learn.”

  “The yin to your mother’s yang.”

  “Exactly. That’s why you’re the writer. I would have never thought to put it that way.”

  “I have my moments.” Renny glanced at her watch. “Sorry to say I need to get back. Have to rescue Chazz and get back to the grind. I had a good time. I hope we could do this again?”

  “It would have to be next month, right? You’ve used up your quota for March.”

  Renny sighed. “Don’t remind me. Okay, lunch or dinner. I can always have salad with low calorie dressing.”

  “I’d like that.” Summer pulled out her cell phone. “I can give you my number.”

  * * *

  “Anything more on the girl? What did she look like?” Dani Knight pressed.

  Summer shook her head and exhaled. “I didn’t see much of her. Like I already told you, it was like I was looking through her eyes. No mirror in the park, so I can’t tell you what she looks like. Since she could see her hands on the puppy and her ponytail, I could too.”

  Closing her eyes, she resisted reciting the multiplication table. It was beginning to feel like a crutch and Dr. Veraat had warned her against them. But not giving in wasn’t an option right now. Not after Keile’s friend had been grilling her for what felt like hours.

  “I know it’s hard, Summer, but the cops will push you harder.” Dani patted Summer’s thigh. “I want you to take a look at a photo. Tell me what you think.”

  Summer studied the pretty girl with the shoulder-length blonde hair, the blue eyes and big smile that showed missing front teeth. “It’s not her,” she finally said, disappointment so sharp she could almost taste it. “Not her.”

  “What do you mean it’s not her?” Keile asked. “I thought you didn’t see her face.”

  “The hair’s wrong. The girl had ash-blonde hair and it was longer. When she bent down the ponytail came down to the middle of her chest. The skin on her hands was lighter. More like mine.”

  “You’re sure?” Dani asked. “One hundred percent sure?”

  “Positive.” Summer bit her lip as anger started to swirl. She wasn’t stupid enough to think Dani believed her, so this must be some kind of test. Some way to try and trick the crazy woman. “I gotta go.” She pushed off the sofa and shot Keile a glance. “Told you this was a bad idea.”

  “Wait.” Dani strode after Summer, her long-legged stride helping to close the distance. “This photo was taken a couple of months before Ashley Caruthers went missing ten years ago. If you’re telling me this isn’t the same girl you saw, then we may have a situation.” She ran her fingers through her own long blonde hair, sighing. “I hate to think there are two of them.”

  Summer hugged herself. “There are two. The hair is wrong. You should check, see if Ashley had a baby brother. If she lived within walking distance of Central Park.”

  “She didn’t,” Keile said. “They searched for her near campus because she lived in an apartment complex that used to be near there. It would be at least an hour and a half walk for an adult from there to the park.”

  “Damn,” Dani said softly. “No way a kid would do that, and for a swing?” She scanned the information she’d been able to pull together. “Says here she frequented the playground at the elementary school on Royal. Also the woods next to the college. Sorry, Summer, I should have checked that.”

  “That’s okay. What now? How do we find my missing girl?”

  Keile slung an arm around Summer’s shoulders. “We talk to Carla. Being a cop she has better access to information. I could sound her out first, see what she thinks.”

  “It’d be better coming from me,” Dani said. “I’ve had to consult with the police about a couple of jobs. I’d like to think she’ll give me a chance to lay it out, get her to buy in.”

  “But will she believe you when you don’t really believe me?” Summer asked. “Heck, I’m not even sure I believe me anymore.” She rubbed her eyes, surprised to find them wet. “Maybe it was one big hallucination. Maybe I do need to check into the loony bin.”

  “Don’t,” Dani said firmly, her blue eyes fierce. “Don’t let my doubts sway you. I’m the suspicious kind until I’m proven wrong. You held up. Your story didn’t change. I say we don’t know the endgame so we dig. I’m damn good at digging.”

  “Summer, why don’t you stay here tonight?” Keile suggested. “You can take the guest room. It’s late. Too late to be out on your bike.”

  “I don’t want to impose.”

  “It’s a good idea,” Dani said. “I can see you’re tired. I can make a few calls tonight. Might have some info for you tomorrow.”

  Summer let herself be led to the bedroom with the queen-sized sleigh bed, matching vanity dresser and a welcoming feel. She needed it more than she knew. “What will Haydn say?”

  “That she’s glad you’re not out on your bike this late,” Keile responded immediately. “The bathroom’s kind of small, but you’ll find stuff in there to use. You need pajamas?”

  “I’ll be okay. Keile, do you still believe me?”

  “More than ever.” She pulled Summer close for a hug. “D
ani’s right. You never wavered. We’ll find something to make the others believe. Hopefully get some closure for the girl, for her parents.”

  “Thanks.” Summer leaned her head against Keile’s shoulder and let herself be soothed for a moment.

  Keile closed the door softly on her way out, then rejoined Dani in the family room. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know. I was sure it was going to be Ashley and now we have to consider there could be another girl who was snatched. I called Hank. He hasn’t heard anything recently about a missing girl fitting Summer’s vague description. And that’s statewide. I’ll wait a couple of hours and try Duvaughn. He keeps a database of missing kids, but he doesn’t get moving until after midnight.”

  “You have such unusual friends.”

  “I wouldn’t call them friends.”

  “Sources, then. Any chance there are other cold cases?”

  “Not of missing girls. Not in Seneca. Keile, I know you feel some sort of loyalty to her, but…” Dani shrugged.

  “But nothing. You’re the one who said she held up. There’s another mother missing her daughter and we need to find out all we can. Summer’s having a hard time with this. She’s gone through a lot the last few years. I’d like it if we could clear this up for her.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. If I hear anything, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “That’s fair.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Summer was a bundle of nerves when she entered the lobby of her office building on Monday morning. Yesterday had been spent poised on a precipice, waiting for word on the identity of the missing girl with the long, ash-blonde hair. Word that never came. Although sleep had not been her companion the night before, she decided working was better than pacing around her condo like an animal in heat, drinking too many Cokes. And if she succeeded in making Marcia a little crazy today, that would make up for a lot.

  “Summer! Wait!”

  Recognizing the voice, she turned slowly, prepared for danger. Rich appeared to have come without potential for disaster today, she thought, watching him walk toward her in a nicely fitting pinstriped suit and crisp white shirt. Still, it didn’t pay to let down her guard when he was around.

  He stopped in front of her looking like a puppy begging for forgiveness. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  And I’ve been dodging you, she thought. You and your memories. “And?”

  “I wanted to apologize again for dumping my food on you and ruining your breakfast. I swear, I’m usually more adept on my feet.”

  “Apology accepted.” She settled for a nod, ignoring his outstretched hand. Though neither one of them was upset, there was no way she was going to chance touching him. Her defenses were already low to nonexistent.

  He stepped in front of her when she tried to skirt by him. “So,” he said with a bright smile. “You wanna grab lunch sometime? I’d love to make things up to you, and I do owe you a meal.”

  For a second she thought she was having another out-of-body experience. How else would Rich get the idea she was interested in him? How else could she not have known he was interested in her? She ran through the multiplication table to ten, but he was still there, waiting for an answer, when she finished.

  “You gotta eat, right?”

  “Can’t. Late for work.” Despite her aversion to crowded elevators, she bullied her way onto a full one, seconds before the door shut. More dazed than upset, she spent the slow ride up considering the egos of some men. It made a change, at least, from fearing a mind link.

  After that surprise, she was grateful that Marcia had written her day’s assignment on a sticky note and attached it to her chair. It was a system that worked for Summer. She grimaced. She had yet to exchange more than a head nod with Marcia since Tuesday’s blowup. A blowup followed by a breakdown, which for unknown reasons Marcia had chosen not to broadcast. Hoping she didn’t owe her anything for the unexpected consideration, she picked up one of the three reports that had been left for her to look over for graphic content.

  Summer tried to tap into her creative center—the one which used to allow her to draw, to paint, to know how to arrange graphics for the most impact. It remained largely out of reach, like a carrot dangled in front of a horse. She retained enough to do a decent job with her reviews, she hoped. If she continued to do it long enough, maybe things would come back to her.

  When a gnawing emptiness reminded her that she’d skipped breakfast, she glanced at the plain wall clock and discovered it was close to noon. She stretched her stiff back and decided a brisk walk was needed. She’d go to Jack’s and this time she’d leave enough room for peach cobbler. No. This time she’d start with the peach cobbler.

  Her cell phone buzzed before she made it to the door. Her heartbeat sped up when she saw Dani’s name. Waiting time was over. “What’s the word?” she asked, gripping the phone till her knuckles were white.

  “I’m almost a hundred percent sure I found your girl. Her name was Brandy Jones. Her mother identified a shoe found in the parking lot of what is now Central Park. Twenty years ago, Summer.”

  Bile gurgled in the back of her throat. There was no happiness in being right. At being believed. She sat on the desk, not sure she could feel her legs. Not sure she could feel much of anything besides dread.

  “I’ve spoken with Carla. She’d liked to talk to you. Unofficially for now.”

  “I can’t tell her any more than I told you.”

  “She’d like to hear it from the source. Cops are like that. The police file on Brandy has gone astray. Anything you give them is more than they have.”

  “How do they know about the shoe?”

  “They don’t. I got that from an outside source who followed that case.”

  “Only that one?”

  “It got nasty real quick when they questioned and released a black guy about her disappearance. He almost got beat to death. That guy was my source’s cousin, so naturally he took an interest in the case. He swears there was nothing in the file about the van or the puppy. I doubt it was known until you mentioned it.”

  “All the more reason for them not to believe me.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “I know I was hard on you, but you got through it. Remember that.”

  “So she’s going to believe me because you found the girl?”

  “She’s willing to listen. Can you meet us in the bar next to the Marriot at seven? It’s called Juice. I can’t get away any earlier than that.”

  Can I? She began to shake. It was all so real now and it wasn’t going to go away. Not now that some door in her mind had opened and let in the unthinkable.

  “You still there?”

  The light teasing in Dani’s voice did little to help her mood. But ignoring the situation wasn’t going to help either. “I’ll be there,” she said softly. She ended the call without giving Dani a chance to offer more empty platitudes.

  Her wallet went back in the bag, thoughts of food buried under an onslaught of queasiness coated with dread. Wishing she’d never gone to the damn park, never touched the damn swings, never let that damn door in her mind open, she sank into her chair and grabbed her head. There would be no going back. Not after she talked to the police, bared her soul for some woman who would have checked her background. Who would know about the coma, the memory loss, and no doubt have pegged her as flaky at best.

  She tried to run through the multiplication table, but even that couldn’t keep out dark thoughts of being dragged to the station to be interrogated by the police in one of those rooms with the two-way mirrors. Of being forced to tell her story over and over again until she slipped and said something they could pounce on and use to declare her a fraud.

  And how could she blame them? Didn’t she feel like a fraud deep inside? Like these visions could be hallucinations resulting from the head trauma? Or worse, her first step toward insanity?

  Summer blew out a sharp breath. There, she thought. She�
�d acknowledged the thought that had been flying around her brain like an elusive ghost only much scarier. She could be losing her mind and without her shrink to talk it through she would never know. Maybe it was time to make an appointment with Dr. Veraat’s replacement. Pouring her heart out to a sympathetic stranger couldn’t be worse than talking to a skeptical cop.

  She jerked upright in her chair when a stack of files hit her desk. She stared stupidly at Marcia, putting a hand to her beating heart. How out of it had she been not to hear the sound of Marcia’s heels hitting against the floor?

  “These need to be done before you leave,” Marcia said curtly. “Seeing as you have time to sit around and daydream, that shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”

  Anger, hot and strong, erupted so swiftly it nearly knocked her over. Summer pushed out of the chair, sending it careening back against the wall. She did not deserve to be treated this way.

  “Why didn’t I get the memo?” she demanded, her hands fisted. “If spending my lunch hour at my desk with my eyes shut is no longer allowed, I should have fucking well been told. It seems to me as my supervisor that would have been your responsibility. So until you show me that memo, I suggest you pull that fucking stick out of your fucking ass and get off of mine. How hard would it be to simply give me a stack of fucking files and tell me to work on them? But no, you have to make an issue out of it. Are you that fucking starved for attention? What’s the matter? No one at home to lie and tell you how good you look in those ridiculous outfits you come to work in?” She slammed her hand down on the desk. “Of course there isn’t. No friend would let you leave for work looking like you’re trolling for a good fuck.”

  “You!” Marcia’s face flooded with color. “You, shut up now! No one talks to me that way. No one.”

  Summer crossed her arms, getting a charge out of the tremble in Marcia’s voice. “I think I just did. And if you ask me, which you didn’t, someone should have said something sooner.”

  “Don’t think I won’t go to Mr. Tathum with this.”

  “You think I give a fuck?” she asked, tapping a finger against Marcia’s chest. “I have a hell of lot more problems than you and your ridiculous outfits and misplaced superiority complex.”