by Jon Mills
“Sure thing.” He winked and smiled and bolted up the stairs. Kara heard Lisa giving him the third degree at the top before the door closed. In the silence of the basement she turned back toward the wall of crazy and sighed. It was one thing to know her mother had been digging into the disappearance of her brother, another to hear that she had been pestering the local sheriff department and locals in town.
Within an hour, everyone had left except for Rob and Janice. Her father Matthew was slumped in a chair in the sunroom with a glass of bourbon. He hadn’t moved from that spot since returning from the funeral.
“Now you listen,” Janice said. “We are only a phone call away. If there is anything you need, I expect to get a call, okay?” She gave her a hug and Rob cast a glance towards her father.
“I want you to know, Kara, that after you head home, I will personally keep an eye on him and check in every day. We don’t want you to worry about anything.”
“I appreciate that.”
“And a word of advice. I would probably sneak that bottle away from him. His drinking was heavy before she died, he’s liable to drink himself into an early grave if he continues the way he’s going,” he said.
“Noted,” she said giving him a hug.
They were just about to head out when she said, “When did you last speak to my mother?”
Rob turned. “Saturday. We dropped by, Janice brought some of her apple pie for the evening.”
“Good apple pie too,” she added.
That was three days after Kara had spoken with her.
“And did you notice anything about her that was different?”
“What, like depressed?” Rob asked.
“Yes.”
He shrugged. “Nothing. She was her perky self. In fact she seemed—”
“Optimistic?” she interjected cutting him off.
He took a step back. “That’s a good way to put it. Very upbeat, and that’s saying a lot. Your mother went through some dark times over the past twenty-five years and I think what she was working on gave her some focus, meaning and purpose for each day. Whether she was on to something or not, I don’t think it matters. I mean I didn’t agree with her questioning people after that monster was put in jail but she just couldn’t seem to bring herself to believe that he was responsible. I guess she held out hope that Charlie was still out there, or when they found the man responsible he would confess.”
“And Kyle didn’t,” Kara added.
“No. All these years and he’s stuck to the same story of being innocent.”
Rob shook his head, she could see the revulsion in his expression.
“Did she ever go see him?” Kara asked.
“I hope not,” Rob said. “He deserved what he got. The police might have made some mistakes on that case but I think they eventually got the right man.”
“And yet she didn’t believe that.”
“Nope.” He inhaled deeply. “She hassled the department. Questioned the evidence. And got a lot of people’s backs up in this town.” He frowned. ”I would have thought you knew this? Didn’t she ever tell you?”
“No. The few times we spoke she was just curious about how I was getting on. She was very-tight lipped after the sentencing.”
He sighed. “Probably didn’t want to upset you. Bring old memories and whatnot.”
She nodded.
“Listen, losing Charlie broke her heart. It broke all of us. But I think all the years of trying to find someone else led her down a path to nowhere. At least that’s what I have to tell myself or I would go mad.”
Kara looked despondently at a photo of the family on the counter. “I just wish she’d let me in.”
“I think there was a lot that she kept from all of us, Kara. So don’t be hard on yourself.”
Kara ran a hand over her tired face. “At the time of her suicide, do you know who was the first officer on scene?”
“Someone from Blackmore Police Department. Not sure,” Rob said. Rob looked at Janice as if looking for support.
Janice touched Kara’s arm. “Hon, Anna loved you. Focus on that.”
They hugged again and exited. She was quite aware that they were protecting her as much as her mother had been. That had been their role. They were like second parents to her through the time of the abduction until she left for college. Back then she hadn’t told them of her aspirations to join the police, only that she was going away to study law. Kara leaned back against the door and stared at her father down the hallway. She walked into the kitchen feeling strangely unraveled. At the sink she filled a glass of water and downed it and tried to comprehend her mother’s death and secrecy. Hoping to clear her mind she headed out to her SUV to get her laptop. She wanted to bring up the Blackmore News site and find the first article that was released about her death. That would usually give the name of the officer who had attended the scene. She could have called the department but at this stage she just wanted to get a better understanding of what was said as her father likely wouldn’t say, and she didn’t want to add to his grief.
She brought in one suitcase and a laptop bag. Kara lugged it up the steps and paused at the top, casting a glance at Charlie’s room. Kara placed everything down, and entered his room.
It had remained untouched for twenty-five years. Even after Harris’s incarceration, her mother wouldn’t let her father touch it. It was like stepping back to 1991. Everything was frozen in time. The bedspread was that of a twelve-year-old. The duvet cover had football players, the walls were covered in film posters from the late ’80s, and a Washington State Cougars T-shirt was pinned above his bed. There was an acoustic guitar leaned up against the wall, bookshelves filled with little trinkets, music cassettes and a vintage camera, and it smelled like old gym socks.
A faint smile formed as Charlie’s voice came back to her, telling her to get out of his room, and the times he’d borrow her boombox to record his favorite rock tapes.
She was about to walk out, when she saw a framed photo of her and Charlie. She picked it up and blew away a thin layer of surface dust. The shot had been taken at a school track meet where Charlie had come in first place in a two hundred meter race. He had a medal in hand, and Kara had her arm around him. Their mother had taken the shot. She remembered the scent of fresh-cut grass, and the cheers of spectators. It had stuck with her as her father couldn’t make it because he was working.
Kara felt an ache in her chest and placed the frame back down before backing out of the room.
Chapter 6
The Dug Out was formerly called Terry’s Bar — located just off Main Street, it had been a popular hangout that offered cheap beer and wings until the owner, Terry Manning, got busted for serving dozens of minors. Kara recalled the newspapers the next day after his liquor license was yanked and he was hit with 45 violations including sales to minors, failure to supervise, exceeding the maximum capacity and having locked fire exits. Terry and four of his waiters were arrested and charged with reckless endangerment, unlawful dealings with children, some as young as thirteen, and criminal nuisance. The absurdity of it all was he was still allowed to remain open to serve food, just not booze. It didn’t go well after that. He closed up shop and the last anyone heard he was managing a bar somewhere in the Midwest.
Later that evening, Kara pushed opened the heavy wooden door that fed into the bar. A wall of alcohol and the aroma of home-cooked fries brought her senses to life. It had changed a lot since the ’90s. Gone was the old bar that had locals’ names carved into it, the worn-out dartboard, the tacky foosball table, and the sawdust-covered hardwood floors where folks would drop peanut shells as they drank large pitchers of beer. In its place was a modern sports bar with lots of flat-screen TVs, polished floors, a rooftop deck, a fireplace lounge, two brand-new pool tables, and shuffleboard and old-school arcade games in a casual but bustling space. There were about twenty tables and booths around the exposed-brick, crown-molding interior and down through the middle.
&nbs
p; Bobby spotted her and raised a hand. He was seated on a stool at the bar tucked between a young couple and three old-timers. He’d said he would bring Lisa along, and would arrange to have Sam join them, but by the looks of it he was alone.
She squeezed past a group standing in the aisleway, laughing and drinking, and eventually took a seat beside him. She placed her handbag on the bar and looked across to 12 taps and a brightly lit selection of liquor bottles. She didn’t recognize the busty brown-haired waitress who had the attention of men pretending to watch sports on the overhead TV.
“Looks different, right?”
“Like night and day,” she replied gazing around.
“That flooring. Have a guess where it’s from.”
“It looks brand-new.”
“They stripped it back and polished it up. It comes from the old high school gymnasium.”
“Are you serious?”
He nodded, taking a sip of his beer and raising a finger to get the attention of the bartender. “What can I get you?”
“Beer is fine.”
He smiled. “Lisa always goes for wine. I like a woman who isn’t afraid of a few calories.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s not that far off.”
He didn’t respond as he was giving the gal the order. “Thanks, Shelly.”
“So, is Lisa in the washroom?”
“No, she decided not to come. Kids and whatnot.”
“How many do you have?” she asked.
He took out his wallet and retrieved a few photos of three girls and a baby boy.
“One, four, eleven, and my eldest just turned nineteen. Can you believe that? I mean where does the time go?” He took a swig from his bottle of Budweiser as the barmaid returned and placed a beer mat down, along with a napkin, and set a Corona on it for Kara. Some of the foam from the top dripped down the side creating a circle of condensation around the bottom.
“Can I get you a menu?” Shelly asked.
Bobby looked at Kara and she shook her head. “No, I’m good, thanks.”
“Shelly, I’ll take some fries,” he said as the barmaid ambled away to deal with an unruly crowd down at the far end. “Lisa would kill me. She’s always yakking on about me needing to lose some weight. Meanwhile she barely watches what goes in that mouth of hers.” He glanced at her. “But you, I see you’ve managed to keep it off.”
Kara nearly spat out her beer. “You always were direct.” She set her beer down. “I run a lot.”
“Right, with the police and all. I heard you were working on that Swanson case out in New York. Chasing serial killers. I didn’t figure you were the type.”
“Yeah, go figure.”
“So why New York? I would have thought you’d want to be close to family.”
She scoffed. “I guess I wanted some space.”
Kara had moved to New York when she was twenty and took a law enforcement course at SUNY and majored in criminal justice. She worked a number of part-time jobs in security and by the age of twenty-two took the entrance examination for the New York State Police. The rest was history.
“Well that’s certainly far away.” He sipped his beer. “So did you ever catch the person responsible for that kid’s death?”
“It’s still an open investigation. It’s tied up in litigation right now. Parents are suing and, eh, it’s a mess. I’d rather not talk about it.” She cast her eyes down the bar looking at the faces and wondering if she recognized anyone. “So what line of work are you in?”
“I’m assistant editor for the Peninsula Daily News.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Nice. So you pick and choose what stories run?”
He smiled and took another drink. “Something like that.”
“So did you manage to get hold of Sam?”
“No, he didn’t pick up. I left a message to let him know you were here and trying to get hold of him.” He fished into his jean jacket pocket and pulled out his phone and brought up his number to give it to her. “Try him around noon. He sleeps in a lot, and stays out late.”
“Is he married?”
“Sam?” He stifled a laugh. “Shit no, that guy enjoys the single life too much. Though he has got out of his mother’s house now. His father Tom passed away a few years back. Cancer. Sad really. Sam will deny it but I don’t think he ever recovered from that night. He acts like it doesn’t affect him, but it’s hard not to, right?”
Sam Young had been Charlie’s best friend. They were like two peas in a pod. It was very rare not to see them together. They would have sleepovers at each other’s houses, go to the movies together and were even in the same class at school. On the night of the abduction, Charlie was supposed to stay over at their house after they’d gone trick or treating.
“We were only kids,” she said gripping the cold beer bottle.
He nodded staring off into space. “I was fifteen. You’d think it wouldn’t have affected me as much.”
“It’s still young.”
On that night, Kara had stolen a packet of cigarettes from her father with the intention of meeting Bobby. He was a year older than her. She was trying to impress him, act all grown up and everything.
He nodded. “Do you ever wonder if we hadn’t chosen to meet up, how things would have been different? Like, do you think you would have stayed in Blackmore?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “I think more about what would have happened if I hadn’t run than if we hadn’t gone to those damn woods.”
“Well I can tell you for sure, if we’d stayed he would have killed us.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Of course I do. You saw the knife. He threatened to kill Charlie in front of us and kill us if we didn’t run.”
Another flash of memory came crashing in. The terror she felt. The look of disbelief and shock on Charlie’s face. His final words ringing in her ears. “Kara, don’t go.” The guilt had eaten away at her like the salty ocean boring into a cliff face and changing its shape.
Kara took another sip of her drink as the barmaid returned with a bowl of fries, and some condiments. He offered her some but she declined.
“Everything changed after that night. I hated the way it made me feel.” He took a fry and paused with it a few inches away from his mouth, his mind deep in thought. “There were moments it felt unreal like it wasn’t happening to me. You know. It just seemed like a movie playing out on TV, or being part of a nightmare you can’t wake up from. I remember how pissed my father would get at the media for camping outside our house just so they could get a soundbite… or the time they took a snapshot of me in the morning in my pajamas and an hour later it showed up on the news. They were savages. No one cared about what we were going through. Everyone had opinions. I so badly wanted to talk to someone about it but both of you were going through the same thing and I didn’t feel comfortable chatting with anyone else. I remember being forced to go back to school when I wasn’t ready. You weren’t there, and Sam, he just stayed away from me. I’m sure somewhere in his mind he blamed me.” He looked at Kara. “Do you… Blame me, I mean?”
Her brow furrowed. “No. God, no. We had no idea what would happen.”
“But if we hadn’t decided to meet…”
“You can’t keep thinking like that, Bobby.”
“I know but it still haunts me.” He nodded taking a bite of his fry and looking ahead. “All the what-ifs.” He shook his head and was about to say something else when a female voice from behind them interrupted.
“Well lookie here. I thought it was you. Another Walker staining our streets.”
They twisted to face a guy, and two women. All three of them looked to be in their mid forties. Rough. The kind of folks who had hard lines, drank heavily and would slur karaoke lyrics every night of the week. The guy was carrying two pitchers of beer. The one doing all the talking was a beefy gal. It wasn’t fat as much as it was her bone structure that made her look more man than woman. She had dark, curly shoulder-length hair
, a deep red V-neck T-shirt, stonewashed jeans, and colorful tattoos that extended to her elbow on both arms.
“Excuse me? Do I know you?” Kara asked.
“Do you know me?” She smirked at her blond friend. “No, probably not. You Walkers were never too good at remembering faces. That’s why my brother is still locked up doing time.”
“Mary, this is not the time or place,” Bobby said slipping forward off his stool.
She eyed him with a look of disgust. “Why don’t you shut the fuck up? You’re not much better than her. Besides, shouldn’t you be at home with Lisa? Does she know about this?”
“She’s a friend.”
“I bet she is, just like that gal last week. You were looking real friendly with her.”
Bobby went red in the face.
“Lady, I don’t know what issue you have with me but I don’t know you.”
Kara turned away but kept her eyes fixed on the woman’s reflection in the mirror behind the bar. She took another sip of her beer and shot Bobby a sideways glance. Sensing discord the barmaid approached tossing a rag over her shoulder.
“Mary, if you cause trouble, I’m gonna call the police.”
“Stay out of it, Shelly,” Mary replied. “I’m having a polite conversation with Walker here.” The barmaid shook her head and wandered over to the phone to place the call. Kara figured the woman had a history of outbursts and this wasn’t going to end any different than those before.
“Let me guess, you returned for your mother’s funeral.” She chuckled. “Now that was one crazy bitch.”
Kara balled her right hand and clenched her jaw. She was used to having abuse heaped on her as a cop and was trained to remain composed and professional, and not get riled up. Years had taught her to bite her tongue and know that justice would deal with things, however, that was then. She twisted on the stool and Mary took a step back.
“That’s it. A little backbone. C’mon. Take a swing.”
She knew the game she was playing. Many suspects tried their luck. If they could get a reaction out of the police they could file a civil lawsuit, or at bare minimum get an officer in trouble with their superior and possibly suspended. But that was if she was on duty. She wasn’t and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let that remark slide. It all came down to who attacked first.