by E. M. Parker
“But you heard what her mother said. Olivia has been with her father for the past week.”
“And you believe that?” Fiona asked incredulously.
“Frankly, we don’t know what to believe, Ms. Graves. So far nothing we’ve heard is adding up.”
“It doesn’t add up to me either. But I know what I heard. Olivia’s voice was as clear to me as yours is now. I didn’t just make it up in my head.”
“No one’s saying you did,” Greer insisted.
“Then what are you going to do about it?”
“Without knowing for sure where Olivia is, we only have her mother’s word to go on.”
“How do you even know there is a father? For all you know she could have been making the whole thing up.”
Sullivan nodded. “Anything is possible, but it’s not like we can force her to reveal Olivia’s whereabouts. She hasn’t been reported missing, nor do we have cause to believe that her welfare is in danger.”
“You haven’t heard what I have.”
“But are you certain of what you heard, Ms. Graves?” Greer asked. “Olivia wasn’t in the apartment.”
“Like I told you, I wasn’t imagining things.”
“Perhaps you weren’t. But it’s going to take more than your word to justify pressing Ms. Shelby. It’s going to take us hearing from Olivia herself.”
“So that’s the end of it?”
“No, that’s not the end of it,” Sullivan said. “We don’t want to doubt your story. We just need to hear from her.”
Fiona nodded and began the walk back to her apartment. She felt thoroughly defeated.
“Is there anything else we can do for you?” Greer’s offer felt forced.
“No,” Fiona said as she opened the door. Before she could enter the apartment, Sullivan called out to her.
“Ms. Graves?”
“Yes?”
“Do you still have my card?”
“It’s sitting right on top of my kitchen counter.”
“Good. Call me if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk.”
Fiona didn’t think much of the offer, until she looked in Detective Sullivan’s eyes. They communicated an understanding that couldn’t be stated with words. In Sullivan’s eyes, she saw validation, she saw belief, and she saw proof that she wasn’t crazy after all. In an instant, she knew exactly why Sullivan had made the offer. She also knew that there was no other option but to take her up on it.
“Thank you, Detective Sullivan. I’m glad you understand.”
“I absolutely do, Ms. Graves.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
FIONA HAD BARELY SETTLED BACK INTO HER apartment when she heard a knock on the door. It was a gentle knock, one that said I come in peace, which meant it was likely not Natalie, but she was still nervous as she approached.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Iris.”
Fiona looked through the peephole and saw Iris standing there in her housecoat and slippers. It was as calming a sight as she could have hoped for.
As soon as she opened the door, Iris hugged her.
“I heard all that nonsense with Natalie. Are you okay?”
The gesture initially shocked Fiona, but she quickly settled into it. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“I heard it all, from the moment those detectives knocked on Natalie’s door, until that foul-mouthed brat slammed it. I wanted to come out and give her a piece of my mind, especially after I heard the way she was talking to you. But I knew my presence would only make things worse.”
Fiona agreed, but she took comfort in the fact that Iris had her back.
“Is it okay if I come in? I’m not too keen on the idea of stirring up that tornado of a woman again.”
“Of course, please do.” Fiona let Iris in and promptly closed the door.
“Cozy little place you have here. Nice to see you’re not a hoarder like me.”
Fiona felt a twinge of embarrassment as Iris surveyed the apartment. “Sorry, it’s not much.”
“It’s home, and for now that’s all you need.”
Fiona didn’t agree, but nodded anyway. “Can I offer you anything? Coffee, water?”
“Water would be nice.”
Fiona went into the kitchen to retrieve two bottles. When she came back into the living room, Iris had taken a seat on the futon.
“Thank you dear,” she said as she opened the bottle and took a sip. “Feels like déjà vu all over again, doesn’t it?”
Fiona joined her on the futon. “It sure does. No offense to your wonderful company, but one late night meeting was more than enough for me.”
“Me too. I’m not sure how much more of this excitement I can take.”
The amulet around Fiona’s neck suddenly felt warm. When she touched it, Iris smiled.
“Oh good, I see you’re still wearing it. Is it everything it’s cracked up to be?”
“I can’t lie, there’s something to it. I find myself reaching for it all the time. The warmth is comforting.”
“It’s supposed to be. It’s similar to a mood stone in that it responds to the energy it receives from you. If it gets warmth, it gives warmth back. Obviously, you’re the right person to wear it. Scares me to think of how it would respond to that poor, lost soul next door.”
Fiona’s thoughts shifted back to the confrontation.
“I’ve been through a lot of stuff, Iris. I’ve encountered some tough customers, especially in my rehab days. But I’ve never experienced anything quite like that. She’s completely unhinged.”
“You’re certainly right about that.”
“With the way she was carrying on, I honestly thought she was going to get herself arrested.”
“They should have arrested her. I think everyone in this building has had enough of that family.”
“Don’t you mean Natalie and Noah?”
Iris looked at her with blank eyes.
“Olivia hasn’t done anything,” Fiona explained. “It’s not her fault that her mother is such a witch. If anything, the people here should rally around that little girl.”
Iris was quiet.
“Don’t you agree?”
“I have to be honest, I’m sick of the entire lot. They’ve been a constant source of trouble around here for years. It’s certainly no reflection on Olivia. I understand that she’s just a child and shouldn’t be judged by her parent’s actions, but Natalie’s incessant, overbearing need to protect her contributes to a lot of the problems.”
“Throw the baby out with the bathwater. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Well, when you put it in those terms, it sounds rather harsh.
“It is harsh.”
Iris smiled. “Touché. I’ve always had an issue framing my arguments properly. I’m not nearly as heartless as I sound right now, believe me.”
Fiona wanted to.
“Speaking of Olivia,” Iris continued, “What was that strange business about her not being in the apartment?”
Fiona visibly shook as she thought about it. “Did you not hear the part that led up to that?”
“I didn’t. And based on the way you’re shaking right now, I have to assume it wasn’t good.”
“No, it wasn’t good at all.”
Iris edged forward on the couch, taking Fiona’s hands in her own. “Tell me.”
“I talked to Olivia again.”
“You did? When?”
“Earlier today, same circumstances as before.”
“Through your bedroom wall.”
Fiona nodded. “She told me, among other things, that she knew who killed Donald Tisdale.”
Shock caused Iris to release her grip on Fiona’s hands. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m afraid I am. She wanted to tell me who, but said she was afraid that someone would hear her, so we eventually agreed to meet outside.”
“And did you?”
“No. Olivia thought the only way she would be able to go would be to sne
ak out. I wasn’t comfortable with the idea. When I told her that, she completely shut down. It was like she didn’t want anything else to do with me. Then something else happened.”
“What?”
“Before she went away, she asked me if I still wanted to know who killed him. Of course, I said yes. Suddenly she starts pounding on the walls. I told her to stop, but she wouldn’t. It got louder and louder until I could hardly hear anything else. Then just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. When I asked her why she did it, she said it was because she wanted me to know what I was dealing with. She said she didn’t want the same thing that happened to Tisdale to happen to me. She said that she wanted me to know what that danger sounded like, so the next time I heard it, I would know to run.”
Iris sat back on the couch. “Wow.”
“It gets worse. A little while later, I was on my way out of the apartment when I hear breaking glass in my bedroom. When I go in there, I see that every single picture that I’d hung on the wall had fallen to the ground. The frames of each one of them were shattered to pieces.”
“How does that happen on a carpeted floor?” a wide-eyed Iris asked.
“Exactly.”
“My God, what did you do then?”
“I calmly cleaned up the mess, continued my errands outside, then came back here and tried to forget the whole damn thing ever happened.”
“How on earth could you possibly do that? I’d be scared silly.”
“Believe me, I was. I still am. But what am I supposed to do? I can’t move out. I can’t afford to stay in a hotel.”
“You can stay with me,” Iris offered. “At least until you sort things out.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose on you like that. Besides, I don’t know what there is to sort out. I don’t even know if what I’m experiencing is real or not anyway. For all I know, my sleep-deprived mind conjured up the entire episode.”
“Of course it’s real. Why would you think otherwise?”
Fiona hesitated, thinking hard about whether she should say what was really on her mind. She had only just now come to terms with it, and giving it audible voice threatened to send her over the edge. “Everything I’ve experienced with Olivia, all the conversation, her pounding on the walls, I’m not sure if any of it even happened.”
“Because?”
“Because, apparently, there is no Olivia.”
“I don’t understand. Where is this coming from?”
“It’s the answer to your question about the strange business with Olivia not being in her apartment. Before I went out into the hallway, I overheard the detectives asking Natalie about an incident with Noah and Donald Tisdale that involved Olivia. They wanted to speak to Noah about it, but Natalie claimed he wasn’t there. The conversation got my attention because of my run-in with him earlier today.”
“What run-in?”
“A conversation for another time. Anyway, when I went out there and saw how crazy Natalie was acting, my first concern was for Olivia’s safety, especially given what she had already told me. When I mentioned this, Detective Sullivan asked Natalie to bring her out, which she flat-out refused to do. When the detective pressed, Natalie said that Olivia had been away at her father’s house for the past week. I knew that wasn’t true because I had just talked to her. So, Detective Sullivan went into the apartment to check, and Olivia was nowhere to be found.”
“She checked everywhere?”
“Apparently so. She said that it looked as if no one had been in her room for quite some time.”
“What did you think when she said that?”
“First I thought that Natalie was lying, that she was hiding Olivia somewhere. But the more I thought about that, the less sense it made.”
“So, the next logical conclusion was that you imagined everything?”
“I never said there was anything logical about my conclusion.”
“Good, because frankly, it sounds ridiculous.”
Fiona hadn’t heard Iris speak in such blunt terms before, and it stung.
“Tell me how you really feel.”
“I’m sorry to be so direct. I only say that because I know that you aren’t imagining things. Those conversations happened. I’m as sure about that as I am that the two of us are talking right now.”
“Then how do you explain the fact that Olivia wasn’t in the apartment?”
Iris didn’t have the immediate answer that Fiona had hoped she would. “I guess I can’t. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
“What does it mean?”
“It means that we have to figure out what’s going on.”
“And how do we do that?”
“We go over there and demand answers.”
“Forget it. I’m stirring up that hornet’s nest again.”
“You don’t have to. I can handle her myself.”
Iris stood up from the couch but Fiona grabbed her arm before she could get further. “Please, just let it go.”
“Fine,” Iris said before sitting back down on the couch. “What do you propose we do then?”
“Nothing. It’s out of my hands. Detective Sullivan told Natalie that she planned to follow up with Noah about his confrontation with Donald Tisdale. Maybe something will come from that.”
“I seriously doubt it.”
“Why?”
“Because it wasn’t much of a confrontation.”
“You know what happened?”
“I wasn’t here at the time, but the building talks, so…”
“I only got bits and pieces of the story, but I did hear the detectives say that it involved Natalie’s daughter. What was Olivia’s role?”
“It wasn’t Olivia.”
“Who was it?”
“Natalie’s other daughter.”
Fiona gasped. “She has another daughter?”
“Yes. I believe her name is Eva. Apparently, she was never around much. Lived with her father most of the time. Anyway, she was eight or nine when it happened. She had befriended Donald over their mutual love of drawing. He invited her over to see some of his work. Perfectly innocent. But Natalie and Noah turned it into something sick and twisted. Noah told him to leave her alone, or else. He complied because he didn’t want any trouble. Less than a month later, she went to live with her father and thankfully never came back. I heard that he got full custody of her.”
“Is this the same father that Natalie claims Olivia is with?”
Iris shook her head. “From what I understand, Olivia’s father died before she was born.”
Fiona’s face dropped with sadness. “That’s terrible.”
“Yeah, that poor girl hasn’t caught many breaks in her young life.”
“So Natalie was lying.”
“Of course she was. That’s why we need to go call her out on it.”
“Like I said, that’s something the police need to handle. I’m not insensitive to what’s going on; far from it. But I have my own issues to deal with. I can’t take on anyone else’s.”
Iris’s tension immediately subsided. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You’re right. Your son is the only thing you should be focused on. I should have been much more sensitive to that.”
“It’s okay, Iris. I understand your urgency, and I do want to help Olivia. I’m just not sure how much I have to give her right now.”
“You’re right, it is best to leave it to the police. Noah certainly has issues, but they may be barking up the wrong tree when it comes to him and Donald. But now that they’re digging, let’s hope they find something else.”
Let’s hope so. Speaking of Noah–” Fiona’s sentence was suddenly interrupted by a high-pitched ringtone.
“I’m sorry dear, that’s me,” Iris said as she fumbled in her pocket before pulling out a small flip phone. “I’ve been expecting an important call from my Quinn. Hopefully this is him.” She flipped open the phone, saying “Hello?” a few octaves higher than her normal speaking voice. “Hello? Quinn, are you there?
I don’t hear anything. Let me call you back.” She disconnected the call and redialed. After a few seconds, she spoke into the phone. “Quinn, can you hear— yes I know it’s a terrible connection. Where are you? Honey, you keep cutting out. I can’t hear a word your saying.” She frowned at Fiona. “It went dead again.”
Fiona thought back to the earlier issue with her own cell phone. “How many service bars do you have?”
Iris looked at her phone. “None.”
“That happened to me earlier. I had to go outside to finish my call.”
“Oh Jesus, I’m not doing that. I’ll just have to keep trying. Maybe I’ll have better luck in my own apartment.” She stood up. “I’ll feel a lot better leaving here knowing that you’re okay.”
Fiona forced a smile. “I am.”
“Good. I’m off then. Thank you for accommodating my intrusion. I promise that our next meeting will be under much better circumstances. Perhaps we should plan a trip out, maybe grab some lunch.”
“I’d like that.”
“Me too. You take care.”
“You too, Iris. And thank you.”
After a warm hug, Iris left. Fiona stood by the door until she heard the three lock clicks that assured her Iris was safely inside her apartment.
When she closed the door, she walked into the kitchen to retrieve her own cell phone from the kitchen counter. She had no bars either. On a whim, she dialed Kirk’s cell phone number, beginning with the 206 area code that she assumed he still used. She held her breath as she pushed the last digit. It was beyond stupid and she knew it. But what did it matter? The phone didn’t work anyway.
When the call rang through, she gasped and promptly hung up.
Damn it, that wasn’t supposed to happen.
Thoroughly disgusted with herself and her chronically reckless decision-making, Fiona put the phone back on the counter and began the trip to her bedroom for what promised to be another restless night. Halfway there, her cell phone rang. She raced back to the kitchen and picked up the phone. Kirk’s number.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Her thumb hovered over the answer button for four long rings. On the fifth, she slid the button right. Her voice trembled as she answered. “Hello?”
She heard the low hum of distant static before the line went dead.