Back to Blue

by Dillon Watson

  Looking into his dark brown eyes, Summer almost believed him. She took a drink to soothe her dry throat. “Is there some sort of procedure for this? This is the second time. Should I be read my rights or something?”

  Vincent’s lips twitched as if he wanted to smile. “You’re not under suspicion. First, I’d like you to look at this photo.”

  Summer concentrated on the little girl’s face. There was no big smile, no joy in the girl’s eyes. “Is this her? Is this Corey?”

  “Yes. Anything?”

  “I’m sorry. I…I don’t recognize her.”

  “No need to apologize. Next we’d like to give you the item we received from the girl’s mother. If that’s okay with you.”

  She chewed on her lip. “Okay.” She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans.

  Juan handed her a plastic bag with a stuffed bear that had seen better days. “She sleeps with this bear every night, her mother said. Can’t sleep without him.” She reached in to touch it and—

  she was at an unfamiliar park, sitting under a tree and trying to ignore the pain between her legs. Her mama said she had to let him do it. That she was being a good girl. She didn’t think so. Letting him touch her down there was being a bad girl. Her teacher said so.

  She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands and wished she could make herself disappear like the girl in her favorite book. Go to that special place where everything was good. The place where mamas loved their little girls all the time.

  Closing her eyes, she prayed. The man with the Bible in front of the beer store said if you prayed hard enough God would answer. She didn’t really believe him ’cause hadn’t she prayed hard enough to get the man to stop? But what else could she do? God was her only hope. The police wouldn’t help. They’d think she wanted that man to do that to her. That she’d asked him do it. She would be the one to go to jail.

  “Corey, are you okay?”

  She opened her eyes and looked in Benjy’s scared face. At first she’d been afraid of Benjy. Now she knew he would never hurt her because he was the nicest person ever. “I’m okay,” she said.

  “Don’t look that way to me.” He settled his bulk beside her and held out a candy bar. “Maybe this’ll help,” he said in that deep, slow way of his and patted her shoulder. His touch never hurt even though his hands were huge like the rest of him.

  She sniffed. It was her favorite kind. Just like Benjy to remember that. “Thanks.” She took a big bite and she did feel better. Benjy was her best friend in the whole world. Some of the other kids called him names like “retard” behind his back. But only when she wasn’t around. She didn’t let them talk about her friend like that. But Benjy, he didn’t care what they said. He just kept smiling and being nice.

  “You wanna do something? What you wanna do?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t wanna go back home. I don’t want that man to touch me again. It hurts and he slaps me if I scream.”

  “He shouldn’t ought to be doing that.” Benjy shook his head. “That ain’t right. We’ll go to the police, Corey. They’ll stop him. The police help you when you’re in trouble. That’s what they’re supposed to do.”

  “No, Benjy. Mama would kill me if I went to the police. Besides she said they’d blame me and lock me up. I don’t want to go to prison.”

  He scratched his head. “That can’t be right, Corey. I don’t think your mama’s right. They’ll lock that man up. That’s what they do on TV. I seen them do it.”

  “Benjy, that’s just make-believe stuff. In the real world the cops don’t care nothing about poor people. Mama says that they want to put all of us in jail so the rich people don’t have to see us.”

  “Then you can’t go back there. That ain’t right.”

  “Maybe I could go home with you again. Stay a little while until I feel better. I won’t be no trouble.”

  “Okay. You can lay down on my bed and I’ll sit in the chair and watch over you. Then I can walk home with you and tell that man to leave you alone.”

  She frowned. Benjy was big enough and he could probably beat up that man her mama called a friend, but her mama would pitch a fit. Probably call the police and make them arrest Benjy. “That’s not so good, Benjy. My mama would get both of us in trouble.”

  “Okay. Let’s go to my place. I could fix you some food. I went to the grocery store. Do you like macaroni and cheese? I can make it good.” He stood, then held out a hand and helped her up.

  Corey put her arms around one of his thick legs and squeezed hard. Maybe she could stay with Benjy forever. “I love you, Benjy.”

  The smile stretched his wide face. “I love you, Corey. You stay at my place as long as you want. I’ll take good care of you. Promise…”

  Summer blinked as the scene faded and the throbbing in her head began. She was back at the cop station again and being watched closely by Juan and Vincent. “It’s not the same,” she said and pressed her fingers against her temples. “It’s not the same.”

  “Can you give us anything?” Vincent Chapman handed her a tissue.

  It was then that she felt the wetness on her cheeks, noticed the wet spot on her shirt. “She’s somewhere near a small park. The park is near her home and she goes there a lot. She’s hiding out with a tall white man with scars on his face.” She wiped her face even as more tears fell. “She’s getting abused by her mother’s friend.” Summer blew out a sharp breath that did nothing to subdue the anger building inside her. “The mother knows, tells Corey she has to go along.”

  “Tell us more about the guy she’s with now. Are you sure he didn’t molest her?”

  “His name is Benjy and all he wants to do is protect her. Oh, God.” Summer pressed the tissue hard against her eyes and took a deep breath. “He’s a little slow. You know, mentally challenged. He wanted to call the police, but Corey wouldn’t let him. Her mother’s convinced her she’ll be the one put in jail. You should go back to her friends. They’ll know who Benjy is. Can probably tell you where he lives.”

  “Thank you,” Juan said gently. “You’ve been a great help.”

  Summer handed Vincent the teddy bear, suddenly drained of energy. “You’ll understand if I don’t say ‘Anytime.’”

  “Understood,” Vincent said. “I’d like to echo Officer Griego’s thanks and add that you saved us a lot of manpower better used finding Georgia Zackery. I’ll have the officers escort you back home.”

  “If I could have a minute in the restroom…?” Summer cleared her throat as her voice broke.

  “Take all the time you need. Juan will show you the way.”

  In the restroom Summer gave in to tears. What kind of world did she live in where mothers let their kids be abused? Where men stalked girls to use, then discard? Maybe she’d been better off when she didn’t know anything. When she lived in the cocoon that was her parents’ house. The need to call her mother was very strong.

  A knock on the door had her scrambling to her feet.

  “Ms. Baxby? Summer, are you all right?”

  She recognized Juan’s voice. “I’ll just be a minute.”

  “Take your time. As long as you’re okay.”

  Summer sluiced cold water over her face until she felt chilled. It didn’t do much to hide the damage from the crying spell. But she shouldn’t care, she thought, looking into eyes that seemed too big for her face. She’d done them a favor, so if they couldn’t deal with her tears, with her sorrow, then that was on them.

  Juan was standing by the door as if on guard. She could see the compassion and worry etched on his face and wondered how long he’d last in law enforcement. Wondered whether he would toughen up or move on. “I’m ready,” she said.

  In the back of the squad car, Summer tried to balance her heartache over Corey’s abuse with the hope Georgia was still alive. The scales weren’t level when the officers escorted her to the lobby and waited until she was on the elevator. They weren’t level when she unlocked the door to her condo, stepped inside and
felt some of the unease smooth away. Maybe she’d never get there. Maybe she wasn’t meant to get there.

  Knowing she was too wired to sleep, Summer searched the guest room for the pad and the set of charcoal pencils with her name engraved on them that her father had given her when she was released from the hospital. His gentle reminder of what she’d been before. She’d used them a couple of times before putting them away, frustrated by her sophomoric efforts.

  She found them in the trunk along with other pieces of her former life and vowed she’d eventually go through each item and find them a new home in the open. But now she wanted to see if she could draw something that wasn’t steeped in darkness. Wanted to assure herself she was in control of her talent.

  After settling on the sofa, she quickly flipped past her previous efforts to a clean sheet. At first the whiteness of the page seemed to mock her. Gradually she remembered Corey and the simple love she and Benjy shared. The pencil flew across the page as she tried to capture what might have been the expression on Corey’s face when Benjy offered her the candy bar. When Corey realized there was someone who paid attention to her.

  It took five pages for Summer to be satisfied. As she studied the drawing a memory surfaced. Her mother holding back her hair while she blew out seven candles on a cake in the shape of Wonder Woman. Her family had clapped and cheered. After cake, she got to open her presents. She grabbed the big box first, ripping off paper in abandon. The child’s easel on the front of the box sent her into a frenzy. She knew it was going to be the best present ever.

  Smiling in wonder, Summer set the pad aside and leaned back. A memory. One that she recalled all by herself. And what a wonderful memory to have now when she was feeling so down. She hugged herself and brought back the feelings—the love she felt from having her mother protect her hair from getting burned, the enthusiasm shown her by the rest of her family because she blew out all the candles. She’d been loved then as she was loved now. How lucky was that? She snuggled into the thickness of the sofa and replayed the memory again and again—

  The dream started with rain. She was standing at the window watching drops roll down the windowpane and disappear. The rain was good. The rain meant he’d come home late.

  “Dinner’s ready, sweetie.”

  Summer turned to see a woman smiling at her. Somehow she knew this woman, who looked nothing like her real mother, was her dream mother. She approached her slowly, taking in the tired eyes, the bruise on her cheek, the black eye and she was afraid. But she didn’t fear this woman, rather she was afraid for her.

  “Have a seat. I made your favorite.”

  Summer sat in the chair to the right of the head of the table and wondered when beanie-weenies had become her favorite. Since the mother had gone to the trouble to fix the food, she forked some into her mouth. The force of the front door hitting the wall stopped her heart. She dropped the fork and ran to the mother, who looked as terrified as she felt. The monster was back early.

  “You’re right on time for dinner,” the mother said.

  The man stalked to the table and swept the pot of beanie-weenies onto the floor. “You call this food?”

  Summer put her hands to her ears, but couldn’t block out the sound of his hard voice.

  “It’s all we have left,” the mother said softly, wringing her hands. “There’s an opening at the diner. Earl said he could use me. It would give us extra money.”

  “You trying to say I can’t support my family?” He smiled when she shrank from his raised fist. “That’s what I thought. You’re the problem. Probably spent my money on that sniveling brat. Come here, boy.”

  Boy? She wasn’t a boy. Trembling, Summer tried to press herself into the woman’s back, make herself invisible. She didn’t like the man. Didn’t like how mean he sounded. But she especially didn’t want to look at him with his red eyes and big teeth that might bite your arm off.

  “Don’t you hear your daddy talking to you?” The man grabbed Summer’s arm and pulled her to stand in front of him. “Look at you, you little sissy. Acting like a scaredy-cat and hiding behind a woman when you should be standing up to me like a man. You’re worthless.”

  “Leave him be, Stan.” The mother raised her chin when Stan glared at her, meeting him eye to eye. “Richard’s not at fault here.”

  Summer watched in horror as the backhand seemed to come from nowhere, sending the mother to the floor. “No!” She twisted from the man’s grip and ran to the mother. She didn’t know what she was going to do, but she had to do something to stop the man before he made the mother go away forever…

  Once again, the insistent ringing of the phone interrupted Summer’s sleep. And once again she was grateful for the reprieve. She rubbed her gritty eyes, reached for the bedside table and came up empty. For a second she was afraid she was still in the other house, still on the floor with her mother. “No!” When she reopened her eyes, she realized she’d fallen asleep on the sofa. It had only been a dream. Before she gave in to relief, Summer grabbed the cell phone off of the coffee table in front of her and answered on the fourth ring. “Hello.”

  “I woke you,” Sandra said. “I’m sorry.”

  She squinted at the clock on the mantel. Six thirty! She’d overslept two days in a row. “Don’t worry about it. I seem to be running late. Again.”

  “I hate to sound like a broken record, but are you sure you’re okay? It’s not like you to sleep late during the week.”

  “I got called down to the police station around two. Another girl went missing.”

  Sandra’s gasp came through loud and clear. “Maybe it’s time for you to come back home. At least until they catch this madman. Maybe then the police will decide to do their own work.”

  Though the same thought had run through her mind earlier, coming from her mother it sounded cowardly. “It wasn’t the same guy. And the police can find me there too.”

  “If that was supposed to make me feel better you failed miserably. If you were here I could be with you when the police decide they want to talk to you. I don’t like the idea of you going through something like that alone.”

  “Mom.” Summer closed her eyes and sighed. “I was called because it was important. With what I told them a little girl will be better off. That has to count for something.”

  “Which one of us are you trying to convince?”

  “You. Maybe me too. I must be tired.”

  “Take the day off. Do something frivolous, something fun.”

  “I don’t know what that is yet.” Now she knew she was tired. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Work’s not so bad. It gets me out of the condo and I enjoy what I’m doing now. But you can’t tell Uncle Kevin I said that. He might gloat.”

  “Your secret’s safe with me. Promise me you’ll be careful going to work. People seem to forget how to drive when it rains.”

  How lucky was she to have someone who watched out for her, who did the right thing. “I will. I promise. I probably don’t say this enough, but I really do love you.”

  “You say it plenty.”

  Summer decided if she hurried, she could squeeze in a thirty-minute run and still get to work on time. On the treadmill she woke up enough to worry about the dream. The way she figured it should be enough she picked up on Rich’s childhood traumas when she was in his presence. But, no. Now she was letting him invade her dreams, making up stories of what his life might have been like. This could not go on.

  She ramped up the speed, channeling her frustration with every footstep that slapped against the pad. But she couldn’t outrun her thoughts. Couldn’t knock down the niggling fear that by reaching out to Rich on the elevator she’d created the connection. Why else would she be dreaming about him? He wasn’t involved with the missing girls or Corey and yet…She blew out a sharp breath. “No ‘yet,’” she said firmly. It was only a dream, her interpretation of something that could have happened. “But didn’t. Didn’t happen.”

  Chapter Nineteen<
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  By the time she reached the reception area at work, she’d convinced herself the dream was a fluke. That it wouldn’t happen again. She took the absence of Fiona and Marcia at the front desk as an affirmation of her theory.

  The box on her chair drove all thoughts of flukes out of her head. Christmas in March, she thought as she opened the box to find the graphics software she’d requested. Exactly what she needed, something fun to immerse herself in. After installing the program on her computer, she got lost in exploring it.

  “Your pay form is late.”

  “Huh?” Marcia didn’t warrant a glance.

  “Your pay form was due to me by twelve. It’s officially late.”

  And you’re getting such pleasure in letting me know that, Summer thought and looked at the clock on the bottom of her screen. Twelve thirty! Already? “I’ll do it right now.”

  “Too late. I’ve already sent them to Gar for approval. You’ll have to wait for the next pay period. Of course I’m sure your mommy will be happy to advance you your allowance. Just like she was happy to come to work yesterday and rescue you.”

  “Shut up already.” Summer waved her hand around her head as if swatting a pesky fly. “Find someone else’s shit to eat.”

  “Aren’t we brave now that Mommy’s not here to protect you. I’m surprised she didn’t come in with you today.”

  Summer, who had as yet to turn around, did so then. “I don’t know about you, but I have work to do. Why don’t you run along and freshen that goop you call makeup. I’m sure there’s some clown out there waiting to make you his soul mate.” She crossed her arms and leaned back. “FYI, my mommy doesn’t give me an allowance. I have two big old trust funds to take care of my needs.” She laughed as, with a shake of her head, Marcia flounced off.

  Still in a good mood, she pulled her sketchpad from her bike bag and drew a caricature of Marcia. She squinted, turning the finished project right, then left. Color. It needed color. She knew just the place to get color pencils, and since it was the noon hour, now would be the perfect time to go there. “You won’t think I need my mommy to fight my battles much longer,” she told the sketch and grabbed her wallet.