The Fifth Reflection

by Ellen Kirschman

  Brenda pushes out of her chair, sending it squeaking and squealing across the room. “Motherfucker. You want to send me to jail so you can keep your fucking job. I came here to help you and you’re going to send me to jail.” She twists in a rage, screaming and banging her head against the wall. Her forehead splits open, spraying blood everywhere. She claws at her face. Manny reaches to stop her and backs away. An addict’s blood can be deadly. Pence charges out of the observation room, yelling for help. By the time the medics arrive in their protective gear, Brenda has battered herself into unconsciousness.

  Pence has his raincoat on and is ready to leave the building by the time Manny gets back from the psych ward at the county hospital. He looks exhausted. The both of them have been working for almost fifteen hours straight. “The ER doc put Brenda on a seventy-two-hour hold.”

  Pence puts his briefcase down. Rain is hammering against his office window, car lights moving like fingerpainting over the glass. “Did the doc check you out?”

  “She gave me a shot and some pills. I’ll know in six weeks if I picked anything up.”

  “I should never have left you alone with her.”

  “You didn’t have a choice. She wasn’t going to talk with you in the room.”

  “Do you believe Brenda?” I say to Manny. “Is Kathryn behind Chrissy’s death?”

  The chief steps in front of me. “Brenda is a stone-cold addict. I don’t believe anything she says. Neither will a jury.”

  “Why would she lie about her and Buzz kidnapping Chrissy if it wasn’t true?”

  “You’re the psychologist,” Pence says. “I don’t know why addicts do what they do. I just know you can’t trust them. Brenda’s looking to pin the blame on someone. Kathryn’s an easy mark.”

  Manny moves forward. “Supposing it is true, Doc. Why would Kathryn get mixed up with these two ass-hat tweakers? What does she have to gain by getting them to kidnap Chrissy? And why kill her?”

  “I have a theory,” I say, “but you’ll need to give me a minute.”

  “Take your time,” says Pence sweeping his arm in a circle, making a big show of looking at his watch. “Sixty seconds and counting.”

  There’s something I want to say, but how can I say it without laying myself bare? Do I want Pence and Manny to know how I know what it’s like to lose your husband to a younger woman? Do I want them to know that I understand how two people can pretend to be content not having children, can convince themselves that they are enough for each other? How do I describe the pain I felt when the man I married, who swore he didn’t want children, didn’t have time for children, started a family with someone else?

  “Your sixty seconds are up.” Pence puts his hand on my shoulder. “You okay? You got quiet all of a sudden.” He and Manny flash eyes at each other, unwitting companions traveling in the emotionally volatile world of women.

  I take a deep breath. “Bucky’s a man who’s used to getting what he wants. What he wants is JJ and Chrissy. JJ’s self-sufficiency is an elixir. The more she pulls away, the more he wants her. Kathryn has tried hard to convince everyone that Bucky’s love for Chrissy, his affair with JJ, and the fact that she and Bucky have no children of their own doesn’t matter and doesn’t threaten their marriage. She’s been good at lying to us, especially me, but I guarantee that if you put her in a room with her husband, face-to-face, she’s going to find it much harder to lie to herself.”

  For whatever reason, Pence has included me in the meeting with Kathryn and Bucky. Maybe he’s merely taking advantage of the fact that I’m the only female in the department old enough to empathize with Kathryn Blazek’s state of infertility.

  We’re sitting in Bucky Stewart’s living room. Coming here was Pence’s idea of a suitable and comfortable environment for a face-to-face meeting. The entry hall and the living room are filled with oversized furniture, gleaming metals, and enormous abstract paintings by famous artists. Hand-blown glass fixtures the size of small helicopters descend from twelve-foot-high ceilings. Kathryn is seated on an Italian-made red leather sectional sofa. A modern silver tea service sits in front of her on a chrome and glass coffee table big enough to stage a ping-pong tournament. She’s wearing a cashmere sweater set, tailored slacks, and a bracelet of thick gold links. Bucky, dressed for business in a pinstriped suit and silk tie, is seated on the shorter section, his face and hers at right angles. Pence, Manny, and I are in separate chairs covered in glove-soft off-white leather.

  Pence begins. “I appreciate your meeting with us without your attorney.”

  “Not my idea.” Bucky crosses his legs.

  “Of course,” Kathryn says. “Anything to help.”

  “As you know, Mr. Stewart, we are holding your half brother, Buzz, in custody. We’ve been unable to interview him because of the damage to his jaw.” Bucky’s face remains static. “On the other hand, we have learned some things from his common-law wife, Brenda Finister.”

  Bucky flicks a thread off the cuff of his jacket. “Never met her.”

  Kathryn’s spine stiffens slightly.

  “Ms. Finister said some things about you, Ms. Blazek, that caused us concern. We’d like to share them with you. Give you the opportunity to comment.”

  “Was she sober?” Kathryn’s voice is dispassionate, scientific. “It’s hard to believe anything she says when she’s under the influence.” Bucky’s eyes cut in her direction and then back to Pence. Kathryn settles against the sofa in studied casualness, barely interested in Pence’s response.

  “That’s why we’re here, Ms. Blazek. She said some things we found hard to believe.”

  Kathryn’s fingers play across her bracelet as though it is a string of worry beads.

  Bucky leans forward. “I don’t understand. I haven’t seen my half brother for years until the other day. I didn’t even know he was married.”

  “I’m curious how you found him, given that you haven’t seen him in years.”

  Bucky looks at Pence as though Pence has just woken up. “I have a staff. They have computers. Their computers have search engines. Should I continue?”

  There’s a tiny twitch under Pence’s right eye.

  “Why is it that you and your half brother are estranged?” I ask. If Pence wants me here, I’m going to participate.

  Bucky releases a loud, impatient sigh, letting us all know that he is not used to suffering fools. “My half brother, by my father, is an unrepentant addict whose only interest in life is his next fix. He lies. He steals. He broke my parents’ hearts.”

  Pence interrupts. “Ms. Finister suggested that you, Ms. Blazek, masterminded Chrissy’s abduction.”

  Kathryn has a small, involuntary spasm in her neck, hardly more than a tick. I wonder if an innocent person, accused of such a terrible crime, would be so calm and composed.

  “You didn’t believe her, did you? She’s an addict. Unstable. Quite a torment. So is Buzz.” She sighs. “Me, masterminding anything? That’s amusing. But hurting my beloved Chrissy? Unthinkable.”

  Pence pauses for dramatic effect. “Ms. Blazek, did you tell Ms. Finister that Chrissy was being abused by her mother and that she and Buzz needed to abduct her to save her?”

  “Wait a fucking minute!” Bucky jerks his arm away from Kathryn. “What are you implying? Do I need my attorney here?” He starts to get up, changes his mind, and swivels to face his wife. “Is this true? Have you been talking to Buzz? He’s dead to me and you know it. I don’t want anything to do with him and I don’t want you to have anything to do with him.”

  She smiles. Something between a hostess-with-the-mostess smile and a hand-caught-in-the-cookie-jar grin.

  “Have you been talking to him? Answer me. Now.”

  “Please don’t be upset. I know he’s been a tribulation to you, but he’s family. You can’t cut family off. I’ve never felt right about that. I’ve kept tabs on him for years. I help out when I can. Sometimes he and Brenda don’t have enough to eat. I can’t live with that.” She look
s at me. “That’s what I was doing at the Dollar Store, Dr. Meyerhoff. Buying them cigarettes and food. I’m sorry I lied to you.”

  “He’s a junkie. He’s been to every rehab in California. Nothing works.” Bucky’s face is flush.

  “I had hoped that one day he would go into recovery and we could welcome him back into the family.”

  “You’re a fool. A goddamn fool.” Bucky bats her hand away and sits heavily, head in hands.

  Kathryn turns to Pence. “Amphetamine produces paranoia. I’m sure you know that. How can you possibly believe anything that Brenda says? She’s delusional and paranoid. And easily intimidated. She would tell you anything to help Buzz.”

  She turns back to Bucky. “I’m so sorry. I was just trying to help. I can’t stand seeing people suffer.” She crumples forward until her head covers her knees. She appears to be crying. I can’t see her face, but I can see that she needs a touch-up to cover the gray roots in her burnished auburn hair.

  “Fuck.” Bucky slaps himself on the leg.

  Kathryn sits up. Her cheeks are dry. “I know what you think. All of you. Stepmothers are evil. Everyone has read Cinderella and Snow White. We’re practically iconic.” She crosses her hands over her heart, defending herself against our as yet unspoken accusations. “If I’m guilty of anything, it’s being naive. Brenda and Buzz like to tease me. Say they are going to kidnap Chrissy. They would play at guessing how much money Bucky would pay to get her back. One million. Two million. A billion. And then they would talk about how they were going to spend the money. Open a restaurant. Go to Kathmandu. Stay high for a year. They were joking. I never thought they were serious.”

  She looks to Bucky for confirmation, some visual evidence that he believes her. He remains still as a stone, staring at the wall.

  “But now that I think of it, sometimes they joked about kidnapping in front of their friends. They’re all addicts. Maybe one of them got the idea and took Chrissy. Oh, God. Bucky, what have I done?” She reaches for him and he swings hard. His wedding ring catches her cheek. Blood zigzags down her face. She sinks back, covering her head with her arms. He dives at her and they struggle, flailing at each other until Manny pulls Bucky away and pushes him into a chair. He sits, arms wrapped around his middle, shaking his head and spraying tears.

  “Why didn’t you contact us?” Manny turns to Kathryn. “Tell us about Buzz and Brenda.”

  She’s whimpering. Patting her cheek. “They’re addicts. They lie about everything. They belong in a hospital. I thought they were just making some sick joke to upset me. I never thought they would go through with it. Take me to see them. They’ll tell you I thought they were only joking.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us about them after Chrissy went missing?”

  The front of Kathryn’s cashmere sweater is muddy with blood and mascara. A huge bruise is starting to show on her face. She wheels back around toward Bucky. “This is not my fault, Bucky. I asked you to put a security guard on Chrissy. Repeatedly. Don’t you remember? But you refused because JJ thought it was unnecessary. And oppressive.”

  Bucky struggles to his feet as though he were hefting a thousand-pound weight.

  “Why did you listen to her and not to me?”

  Bucky starts for the door.

  “Don’t you dare walk out on me. I’m your wife.”

  Bucky turns around. He has aged twenty years in less than twenty minutes.

  “Chrissy’s dead. Nothing else matters.”

  “I matter. Me. I matter,” Kathryn howls at Bucky’s back. A long, doleful caterwaul that bounces off the ceiling and the walls.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  BUZZ IS GROANING as we walk into his hospital room. His face is a mass of bruises.

  “Milking it for everything it’s worth,” Manny says under his breath. “Trying to get the nurse to bring him more dope.” He smiles. “Hey, Buzz. How you doing? Thought I’d come by to congratulate you on getting unwired.”

  “Where’s Brenda?”

  “Not to worry, man. She’s getting good care at the county psych ward.”

  “County? What’d the bitch do now?”

  “Nice to know you’re so concerned about her welfare. She took a bunch of pills. Had to have her stomach pumped before she got 5150’d. The doc took some X-rays. Told me he found a couple of old broken ribs and a broken nose. Know anything about that?”

  “Clumsy skank. Gets loaded. Falls a lot.” He looks at me. “Who’s this?”

  “My name’s Dr. Dot Meyerhoff. I’m the department psychologist. I’m just here to observe.”

  “Him or me?” He laughs. His teeth are a jumble of blackened stubs.

  “And I’m Jay Pence. Chief of Police.”

  “Whoa. The police chief and a psychologist? I must be one badass crazy motherfucker.”

  “I got somebody else with me who wants to say hello.” Manny opens the door for Kathryn. She’s still dressed in her blood-spattered sweater set. Her face, bare of foundation and blushers, is lined and blotchy with age spots.

  “What the fuck? Look who’s here. Mother of the year.” Buzz starts to clap, slowly, one clap after another in mock applause.

  “Hello, Buzz,” Kathryn says, her voice coated with maternal honey. “How are you doing? I feel terrible about what Bucky’s done to you. So does he. I hope you can understand. He’s been out of his mind with grief.”

  Buzz laughs. More like a cackle.

  “I wanted to check in on you earlier, but the investigation into Chrissy’s death has me so upset. The police have been talking to Brenda. She’s made some horrific accusations against you and me. I was hoping we could straighten this out.”

  Buzz’s mouth is half hidden in shadows cast by his sharply angled cheekbones.

  “Really? How you gonna do that?”

  “I’ve told the police that you and Brenda couldn’t have done this terrible thing. That it was probably one of your friends who knew that you had a rich relative who had a little daughter. Please tell them who that might be so they can investigate.”

  “I don’t have any friends. Brenda and me. We don’t socialize much.”

  Kathryn looks panicked. She’s handed Buzz an out, and he’s thrown it back in her face.

  “Of course you have friends. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  Buzz counts on his fingers. “I got suppliers, customers, and tweaker buddies who want to steal my shit and fuck everything in sight.”

  “Is it possible that maybe one of those people wanted to, you know, have sex with Chrissy?” She looks as if she can barely stand to say the words.

  “Yeah. Probably. They’d have sex with the refrigerator if the door was open. Problem is they’re so busy fucking and tweaking, they couldn’t sit still long enough to kidnap anyone who wasn’t sitting on their lap.”

  Manny steps closer to Buzz’s bed. “So who did it? You? Brenda? The two of you?”

  “Brenda’s not well. She’s delusional, you know how she can be, don’t you, Buzz? What she says is not reliable.” Kathryn’s breathing through her nose, her nostrils moving in and out like tiny bellows.

  Buzz shrugs. “Sometimes she is, sometimes she isn’t.”

  “I’m listening,” Manny says. “Talk to me and things will go better for you. The DA likes a cooperative witness.”

  “You shitting me? I ain’t no witness. I’m a suspect.”

  “Buzzy.” Kathryn steps to the side of his bed and gingerly lays her hand on the pillow next to his scabby face. “It’s the dope that makes you do things. Don’t say anything. Anything you do or say under the influence doesn’t count. I suggest you be quiet until I get you a lawyer.”

  “That ship has sailed, baby. We’re all screwed.”

  “I’m going to help you. Just give me a little time. In the meantime, the less said, the better for everyone.” She puts her finger to her lips like a mother hushing her child.

  “Fuck that.” Buzz sweeps the sheets back. His body barely more than a scarred skeleton. He re
aches for Kathryn. She skitters away, grabs my arm, and wedges herself behind me as though I could protect her. Manny pushes Buzz back onto the bed. He rolls on his side. “I’m done with you, bitch. I’m done with my whole fucking life. They can take me to jail, I don’t give a shit. I have a crap life. And it’s going to get worse. Why prolong the misery?”

  Kathryn brings her face close to my ear. “He’s irrational. You can see that, right? Probably high on some drugs as we speak.”

  “I’m not going to wait for you to set me and Brenda up. Let you tell everyone you had nothing to do with it.”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with it, you have to believe me.”

  “Bullshit.” Buzz cups his hands around his mouth like he’s holding a megaphone. “Hey. Who wants to hear what I got to say?”

  “At your service,” Manny says stepping to the side of the bed. “I’m all ears. But first, just to be on the safe side . . .” He pulls a card out of his pocket and reads Buzz his rights.

  “Don’t listen to him.” Kathryn pitches into a shriek. “He’s crazy. He’d say anything. Remember what Bucky said about him? He lies, he steals.”

  Pence moves to her side. “Perhaps it’s time for you to take a break. Let Manny do his work. We can straighten all this out later.” He places his hand on Kathryn’s back and propels her toward the door. I can hear her arguing with him, her voice getting louder and louder as he pushes her down the hall.

  “My brother been saying shit behind my back? Que sorpresa. He’s hated me all my life. I’m scum to him, and he don’t even know the half of it.” Buzz struggles to sit up again, pulling his hospital gown down to his waist as he twists in the sheets. “First the bitch gives us a pile of dough and tells us to snatch Bucky’s kid out of her bed and keep her for twenty-four hours. What the fuck did she think we were going to do with all that money? Put it in the bank? Sign up for rehab?”

  “What did you do?” Manny asks.

  “What’d you think? We got glassed on some quality ice. Fucking amazing run.”

  “Why did Kathryn want you to take Chrissy?”