by Dana Donovan
“Not sure,” I said, “but something is beginning to stink around here. Amanda Brewbaker told us she hadn’t seen her daughter since last weekend, when clearly she saw her just this past Thursday night. Why would she lie to us?”
“Why would Lionel lie to us? He had to know that Amanda picked Kelly up at the dance studio.”
“This whole thing is beginning to stink. I feel like we’re being sent on a wild goose chase.”
“No, not entirely. The goose we’ve been chasing has given us Hector’s name.”
“Yes Hector. What’s his part in all this? Why does his name keep coming up at every turn?”
Carlos pulled his phone out and handed it to me. “You want to call Dominic, have him check it out?”
“Good idea. Listen. On the way back to the precinct, swing by my place so I can get the charger for my phone. I feel naked without it.”
I took Carlos’ phone and called Spinelli. I knew he had a lot on his plate, but I asked him to see what he could dig up on this man, Hector. I couldn’t give him a last name, but I knew that wouldn’t hold him back. The man has a sort of sixth sense about things.
Next, I called Detective Olson at the Brewbaker house. I didn’t expect she’d have anything new to report, or she would have called us first. But I wanted to get a feel for the atmosphere there. She told me Lionel Brewbaker was beside himself for pissing off the kidnappers. He was worried he might have made matters worse for Kelly. In my opinion, he probably did, but we couldn’t do anything about that. We could only hope for the best.
When asked about Amanda Brewbaker, Olson said she seemed remarkably placid about things; smoking cigarettes, drinking brandy and reading the evening’s newspaper as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
“Where are they now?”
“He’s in the study, looking over a photo album of Kelly and her riding pictures. I hear him sobbing sometimes, but mostly he tries to hold it in.”
“And her?”
“Pathetic.”
“Come again?”
“She’s in there with him, like I said, reading as though she hadn’t a worry at all.”
“Has she used the phone?”
“Not the house phone, but she has slipped out of the room a few times. She could have used her cell without me knowing.”
“Has either of them mentioned the name, Hector?”
“Hector?”
“Yes. That name keeps coming up.”
“I haven’t heard it here.”
“All right, keep me posted, will you?”
“Of course.”
I hung up and told Carlos what Olson said about Amanda. Told him she seemed unnaturally calm for a woman who has a kidnapped daughter. He said he thought we should haul her in for a serious ass-kicking interrogation.
“What?” I said. “Suddenly we’re the Gestapo?”
“No, but she’s all liquored up now. She’ll be easy to break.”
“Or she might just as easily call her lawyer and refuse all questions.”
“I don’t know.”
“I do. For now, I think we should just let her stay there at the house. If she continues drinking, she may loosen up and say something she doesn’t mean to say.”
“You mean like who this Hector is.”
“Exactly. Olson’s a good cop. She knows what to listen for.”
“Yes, she is. Always was. You know I’m surprised you two never worked it out.”
“Worked what out?”
“A relationship.”
“I know. It just wasn’t right between us.”
“Why not? Wasn’t she pretty enough for you?”
“No, it wasn’t that. She’s obviously attractive.”
“What was it then?”
“I don’t know. Back when we dated, I certainly found her charming enough, smart and beautiful. I just couldn’t picture us together. Crazy, huh? I mean she’s got this air of mystery that surrounds her; a certain je ne sais quoi that I never could quite put my finger on. I guess that maybe she scared me. It’s something I’d never seen in a woman before, at least not before I met Lilith. Even though they’re not alike, the two do share more in common than any two women I’ve ever known. How I could shy away from one and fall head-over-heels in love with the other is a mystery to me.”
“That’s too bad, because I think she still likes you.”
“That is too bad, and completely irrelevant now because I’m married.”
“Uh-uh, it’s not official until you consummate.”
“Lilith and I have consummated plenty of times.”
“Yes, but you never––”
“Drop it, Carlos.”
“I’m just saying. I’d date her if I had the chance.”
“Listen to you! You’re already dating someone. Speaking of which, don’t you need to call your girlfriend and tell her you’re not going to make it tonight?”
“What, Lauri? No, I don’t have to call. We have a sixth sense about stuff like that. She knows I’m not going to make it. It’s just one of the many things that make her such a great catch.”
“You’re a pig. You do know that, right? You should call. It’s common courtesy. No wonder you’re still single.”
“Me? May I remind you that you’re ten years my senior and you just got married three months ago?”
“I’m not ten years your senior. I’m thirty years your junior.”
“Oh sure, now, but not then.”
“My point is if Lauri Shullit is such a great catch, you should show her how much you care and call her if you’re going to cancel on her.”
“And you should show me how much you care and stay the hell out of my business.”
“Okay. I will.”
“Fine.”
“Fine!”
The conversation all but died after that. Ten minutes went by before Carlos tried warming things up again by commenting on the slow pace of construction on Route 1. I agreed. Another five minutes of silence followed. I said something about the price of gas going up. He seemed especially annoyed over that; blamed fat-cat oil executives for lining their pockets at the expense of the little guy, apparently forgetting he was no longer one of them.
“What do you care?” I said. “You’re worth millions now.”
“Not the point. I still pay for gas.”
“But you don’t have to worry about it.”
“So because I don’t have to worry about it, it means I should like it?”
“No. It’s not that. I’m just saying. The price of gas isn’t going to break you. You can focus your worries on other things.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, like what to do with all your money. Have you thought about investing it?”
“Sure I have. I thought about buying a gas station so I don’t have to worry about the price of gas. I could get it free.”
“Are you serious?”
He laughed. “Come on, what do you think?”
I thought he was. Another ten minutes of silence brought us to within a stone’s throw of the house. I asked him if he wanted to come in, thinking if Lilith was dressed for sex, or not dressed as the case may be, that she’d let me in and out of the house without making a scene in front of him.
“Nah, you go on,” he said. “You’re just grabbing your cell charger, right? I’ll wait here.”
“You sure? I can get you a cold drink.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course. It’s no trouble.”
“Okay. That sounds good. Bring one out. But I think I’ll still wait here.”
He let me out at the curb. On the walk up the drive, I could see Lilith peeking out the window between the blinds. Something was up. I knew it. I came through the door ready to shut down any advances she might make toward me. I mean it. She could lunge naked into my arms and I wouldn’t cave in to her seductive ruse. She could shred the clothes off my back and I would stand my ground. All I needed to do was cross the room, grab my charger an
d get out.
So I thought.
“There you are,” she said, as I closed the door, her worried voice more practiced than sincere. “I’ve been calling you, leaving messages.” She grabbed me by the lapels. “I thought something happened to you. Come. Sit.” She led me to the kitchen table and sat me in a chair. “Did you eat? I made you dinner.”
“Actually, Lilith, Carlos and I stopped at––”
“I made lasagna just the way you like it. Cooked.” I started to get up. She palmed my shoulders and pushed me back into my seat. “Oh, and salad and bread sticks, too.”
“Lilith, please. I only came by to get my charger. That’s the reason my phone was out. I would have––”
“Ambiance!”
“What?”
“That’s what’s missing.” She lit a pair of stubby candles on the table with just a snap of her fingers. Then she clapped her hands twice. The house lights went down and soft music came up on the stereo. “Better?”
“That’s nice,” I said, “But if I––”
“You just sit right there.” She skirted behind me, laced her arms around my neck and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll have your dinner ready in no time.”
I felt her hands sweep across my chest and off my shoulders as she headed for the stove. “Lilith, I appreciate everything, but really I just––”
“I kept it warm for you. I hope it didn’t burn.” She cut a square of lasagna from the heat-n-serve tray and slid it onto a plate. “I read on the internet it’s better to do that…than to reheat it I mean.” She crossed the room and set the plate down in front of me. “Of course, if you called to let me know what time you’d be coming home, I wouldn’t have had to worry about it. Would I?”
“Lilith.”
“I’m just saying. A little courtesy, that’s all.”
“Right, see that’s the thing. I’ve been trying to tell you. My phone died. I came home to get the charger and then I have to––”
“Oh, let’s not argue.”
She retrieved a bowl of salad from the fridge and plopped it on the table beside my plate. I could tell the Suzie Homemaker routine was wearing thin on her already. “It’s not worth the energy.”
She came around me again and hugged my neck. “Besides, I think we’ll both need our energy later tonight after I strip you naked and….” She whispered something in my ear that I’d rather not repeat. Then she nibbled my earlobe, slid her hand down my chest, across my stomach and below my beltline.
“Lilith!” I pushed my chair back and stood. She came around to face me, her hands on her hips; her brows gathered and her lips thinned.
“What?”
I smiled weakly. “I’m sorry. I’ll have to take a rain check. I only came home to get the charger for my phone. Carlos is waiting out in the car.”
“A rain check?”
“Yes.”
She made a smooth sweep of her hands down the length of her body. “You think THIS comes with a rain check?”
“Well…I don’t––”
“Listen, Buster. I didn’t pop a frozen lasagna in the oven, tear open a bag of ready-mix salad and bake fresh baked breadsticks just so you could collect a rain check.”
“No, of course not. I wouldn’t.… Wait. You made fresh baked breadsticks?”
She threw her glance away, regrouped and fired back. “No, I forgot, but don’t change the subject.” She pointed a rigid finger and poked me in the chest with it. “Ursula told me the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Aren’t you a man?”
“Ursula? You’re taking man advice from Ursula?”
“Why not? She got Dominic to consummate their marriage on their first night together. She must know something about men.”
“Yes. She knows enough to marry a virgin. Besides, we consummated on the first night.”
“No. We fucked on the first night. Then we fucked on the second night, the third, fourth, fifth and nearly every night since. But we did not perform the ritual.”
“We don’t need to perform a ritual, Lilith. You know I love you. I know you love me. It’s all good.”
“All good? Let’s see how good it is when you’re making love to yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“It means that THIS,” she reached up and ripped her blouse open, sending buttons flying across the room in a blur, “is off limits. You and little Tony don’t get to touch any of it until the ritual is complete”
I stood there staring at her breasts, speechless, wide-eyed and openmouthed. “Lilith, you don’t mean that.”
She pulled her blouse closed. “Don’t I?” And she marched off down the hall, shaking her ass in an exaggerated way designed to burn a lasting image in my mind. Even now I can see it, the imprint so strong I could almost swear she used witchcraft to put it there.
I grabbed the phone charger and went back outside. Carlos was still in the Vette, waiting; the radio on, his eyes closed, hands drumming on the wheel, again. I rapped on the window loud enough to get his attention before opening the door and waited for him to turn the volume down before getting in.
“Got it?” he said.
“Yup.”
“Where’s my drink?”
“What?”
“You said you’d get me a cold drink.”
“Carlos, please, I have bigger things to worry about.”
“Lilith?”
“She cut me off.”
“You mean sex?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Geeze, Tony, I thought you just went in to get the charger. You didn’t tell me you wanted to shag her.”
“I didn’t. She’s the one that wanted it.”
“Then why did she cut you off?”
“Because it wasn’t just sex. She wanted us to perform that damn consummation ritual. Now she’s saying that until we do, she’s cutting me off from sex completely.”
“Then why don’t you do it? Make her happy.”
“Carlos, I don’t think you understand. Do you know what’ll happen if we perform that ritual?”
“Sure, you’ll have the wildest sex of your life with the most beautiful woman in the world. Gee, I can see why you might hate that. Must be awful.”
He started the car and we headed out.
“It’s not about the sex,” I said.
“Then what?”
“She wants a baby.”
“Lilith? No way.”
“Yes way. That’s what the ritual’s about. Don’t you see? Dominic and Ursula preformed it on their wedding night, and right away Ursula got pregnant.”
“Yeah, but Ursula wanted to get pregnant. Lilith doesn’t. She hates kids.”
“I think she did hate kids, but that was before Ursula got pregnant, just like she didn’t want to get married until Ursula went and got married.”
“What, you think she’s jealous of Ursula?”
“No, I don’t think so. She’s not the jealous type. It might just be that she’s reevaluating her life now that Ursula is here. She’s getting older and maybe seeing Ursula go through the motions of the traditional housewife, she’s feeling a void in her life that she never expected.”
“I don’t know,” said Carlos, making a tisk sound through his teeth and shaking his head. “You’re painting Lilith in a light I’ve never seen her in, implying she’s vulnerable. That’s not Lilith. I think if Lilith wanted to get pregnant, she would simply go off the pill.”
“She’s not on the pill.”
“So you use protection?”
“No.”
“Then how is it she––”
“Doesn’t get pregnant?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know. It’s a witch thing. We’ve had sex a thousand times and she’s always told me not to worry about it. And now I know why.”
“Why?”
“I’ll tell you. I’ve been looking through the grimoire. It’s hard to decipher without the witch’s key, but there’s a reference there connecti
ng the consummation ritual with having babies. I think that maybe a witch can’t get pregnant without performing the ritual, at least for the first time.”
“Wow.” I saw Carlos’ expression melt into something of disbelief as he grasped the gravity of my situation.
“Wow is right,” I said. “What am I going to do?”
“What can you do? If you ever want sex with Lilith again, you’re gonna have to perform the ritual with her.”
“But I’m not ready for kids. Look at me. I’ve been given a second chance for a full life. There are a million things I want to do before I settle down and raise a family.”
“Yeah, well I hope one of them isn’t having sex again, because that ship has sailed.”
“Gee thanks, Carlos. You’re a big help.”
He nodded approvingly. “No problem.” I think he thought I meant it. “You’re welcome.”
PROOF OF LIFE
Dominic met us at the elevator as we were stepping out on the second floor of the Justice Center. He had gotten himself a cup of coffee from the detective’s lounge. Looked like he needed it, too. His eyes were bloodshot, and the bags under them were twice as big as they were the day before.
“Dominic,” I said. “Are you leaving?”
He looked at me strangely. “No. I was going back to my desk.”
I pointed down the hall. “But…. your desk is that way.”
He turned his head in that direction and I could tell he was just getting it. “Oh, right.” He smiled thinly. “I knew that.”
“Are you okay?”
“Sure. Hey, I have some info for you.”
He started down the hall. I looked at Carlos. He shrugged lightly. “He has info,” he said.
“He has insomnia,” I replied.
We followed Dominic to the conference room. On the table, he had laid out numerous photos and documents. Among them were rap sheets and background checks on several persons of interest in our case. The first name he brought up was a familiar one, someone we had just talked to an hour earlier.
“This is Dmitry Kovalchuk,” he said, “age forty-two.” He slid a photo of Dmitry across the table, more in front of Carlos than me. “I guess you already met him. He owns the Swan Lake dance studio in Danvers.”
Carlos pushed the photo over to me, fell back in his chair, propped his feet up on the desk and laced his fingers behind his head. “Yeah…. we met him. The pervert. You should have seen him, hands all over his thirteen-year-old daughter, feeling her ass.”