Of Things Unseen

by L. Jaye Morgan

  Barrington gestured toward a set of black and yellow pompoms resting in the corner. “Was she a cheerleader?”

  “She was. She used to love watching those cheerleading competitions on the sports channel, you know the ones where they do routines and the judges score them?”

  “I’m not familiar.”

  “Well, it was her dream to become a cheerleader and compete in one of those competitions. She was too young to cheer at school. Back then they didn’t start until junior high around here, so I got her signed up at the Booker T. Washington rec center.”

  “Oh yeah, I know it. Right up there on Fairston Road.”

  “That’s the one. Oh, she loved cheering for them little knucklehead boys on the basketball team. When I think back on it, she was on a path. She had a goal and she set herself on the path to achieving it.”

  “Yes indeed.”

  “She was smart, too. As and Bs.” Ms. Glenda gazed around the room, in a trance-like state, it seemed. “She would have done well in life. I truly believe that.”

  Barrington nodded. “Sounds like she was a special little girl.”

  Ms. Glenda smiled. “Would you like to go sit on the porch? I have a pitcher of ice tea ready to go.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She led him back through the house and out the back door. The porch was fairly small, only large enough to house a bench, two wicker chairs, and a small table. Sure enough, there was a glass pitcher of iced tea beading with sweat on the table, right next to a plate of chocolate chip cookies. Ms. Glenda gestured for him to sit down.

  She set down two tall glasses and poured. “I had this sitting out all day yesterday so it’s good and strong.”

  “Just the way I like it. My mother always made sun tea for me. It’s my favorite.” He took a long swig and savored the sweetness. It was perfect.

  “This is delicious, thank you.”

  “Mm-hm. Grab some of those cookies, too.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Now, can you tell me about the day Leah disappeared? I read the case file but it didn’t tell me a whole lot. I would like to hear from you. Spare me no details.”

  “Well let’s see. It was so long ago. She was outside with some other kids from the neighborhood.” She took a deep breath. “Things were different back then. You could let your babies take off on their bikes as long as they were back home when the streetlights came on. You didn’t worry really, you just let them be independent. Everybody’s kids were out there. All day, every day, especially when it got warm out.”

  Barrington realized she was preemptively defending herself. “Oh, I know what you mean. I was always outside. I would leave in the morning and come back at night. My mother never knew where I was.”

  “Exactly. But I guess it only takes one split second. Your babies are safe until they aren’t. And on that particular day, somebody came and snatched my baby from me. I always think about the randomness of it all. Why that day? Why that time? Why her? Why not one of the other kids? I feel terrible for thinking like that but...that’s how I honestly felt.”

  “That’s completely normal, Ms. Glenda.”

  “That’s what they say.” She took a long swig of tea. “This is too sweet,” she said, making a face. “Anyway, I let her go outside to play that day like I always did. Her older brothers were out there, not really with her but they were around. Their friends were older, but they still usually kept one eye on her. I don’t know how but some kind of way they all got separated, and the next time my boys saw her friends, she wasn’t there.”

  “What did her friends have to say about it?”

  “Not much. One minute she was there, the next she was gone. You know how kids are, they don’t have an eye for particulars. One of them said Leah mentioned walking up to the clubhouse to find her brother but that didn’t make any sense to me. Still doesn’t.” She sighed, then closed her eyes. She was starting to struggle.

  “I was cooking dinner. It was fried whiting, I remember. You can’t leave the grease alone. I sent my oldest out to call Leah in because I wanted her to wash up before dinner. He said didn’t see her. After I got dinner on the table I went to look for her myself.” She opened her eyes. “It’s funny too, because the whole time, I was running around hot. I mean I was mad because this girl done made me come outside in my scarf and house dress. I was dreaming up all kinds of punishments. Can you imagine?” she asked, chuckling quietly.

  Barrington laughed with her. He understood. “The case file mentioned that you called the police at about 9 o’clock. Can you tell me about that?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Detective. Now, I mean no disrespect to your fine profession, but the police were no help to my family. From the beginning, they treated it like Leah ran away from home. Then when they finally accepted that she was actually missing, which was almost a week later, they treated us like we were the damn criminals!”

  Barrington couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “I have to give you credit. You have treated me with respect and dignity. You’ve only been here 20 minutes and you’ve already shown me more kindness than those officers did in 20 years. I’m thankful.”

  “I appreciate you saying that.”

  Her eyes welled up with tears. “I wish you had been around back then. They acted like Leah was some fast tail teenager who ran off to be with her boyfriend. The girl still slept with a night-light on! She was a baby. She was innocent.” She turned her head as the tears spilled over her cheeks and she swiped them away in short, jerky motions. “They don’t see our babies as innocent. Never have. I had to spend more time defending my child than looking for her. Eleven years old. Still sleeping with a damn cabbage patch doll.”

  She stared off past the porch into the trees. “You remember the child murders?”

  Barrington nodded.

  “Leah wasn’t one of those project kids who ran the streets all day every day. She had a family who loved her and cared for her.”

  Barrington grimaced. He was no stranger to that point of view but that didn’t make it any less offensive to him. He kept his thoughts to himself.

  “I’m sure the police let their kids ride their bikes outside without sitting and watching them every second. You know what one of the officers said to me? ‘What were you doing that you didn’t have time to check on your child?’ Do you believe that? Like it was my fault. I made her check in. I did. She had to come in every couple of hours just so that we knew she was okay. Nobody had any cell phones back then. You just had to trust that...” she trailed off and sniffled. “You can’t lock your child up in their room. That doesn’t make them safe, it makes them fragile. Scared of the world.”

  Barrington wanted to say something but he didn’t have any words. She was obviously very bitter about the way things went down but he was there to collect information about the case, not to soothe her hurt feelings. Still, it bothered him. He wouldn’t allow himself to think about it at that moment, but he felt something. Anger. On her behalf. Because he had been a witness to the handling of countless missing persons cases and had never seen a victim’s family treated with such contempt.

  “Anyway, it doesn’t matter now.” Just like that, the tears were gone. For the first time, Barrington actually took note of her appearance. She had likely been very attractive when she was younger. Like most black women, she looked a lot younger than her age, and her full head of silver hair was the only indicator that she was a senior citizen. Still, despite the smoothness of her skin, there was a hardness to her face. She was a dignified lady, with the posture to match, but she still seemed weighed down. The world-weariness was palpable.

  “My neighbor found my baby in the woods. Mr. Miller. And he hasn’t been the same since. That kind of thing changes you. But I’m sure you know about that.”

  He nodded.

  “I didn’t go back in there because I knew I would never be able to get over it. My husband identified her. They said she probably died within six hours of her disappearance.”r />
  “How is your husband doing?”

  “He’s doing. He’s been ill.” She paused. “Do you believe in God, Detective?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He wondered where she was going with this.

  “Well, I believe too. And I think Leah’s death and everything that went down with it, I believe it cast a spirit over this community and everybody in it. It changed us. Now, I’m a God-fearing woman, even after all of this. But I think something evil, something demonic, came into this place and snatched my baby from me. And whatever it is, it’s still on the loose.”

  “Do you have any idea who might have done it?”

  She sighed and looked into the trees again. “I do not.”

  Barrington studied her. She was holding back. “I know the police interviewed all of the neighborhood kids and focused on a few of the teenage boys in the area. Do you have any thoughts about that?”

  “Mm-hm. I think they really wanted to pin it on one of those boys. That probably would have made it easier for them to close the case. But I never really put much stock into any of the kids.”

  “What about Andre Bernard?”

  “I didn’t know Andre well but he didn’t seem like the type to me. None of the boys did, Detective, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. I have two boys of my own and I just can’t see it. I think they just wanted to harass some black boys. You know how they do. Our boys don’t really do things like this.”

  “So who do you think it was, then? Someone from outside the community?”

  “Whoever it was had to be somewhat familiar with the area to know about that path through the woods. So I think it was somebody from around here. A grown man though, not one of the kids.”

  “And you have no suspicions about anyone in particular?”

  “I don’t. I wish I could give you a name but I just can’t think of anyone. I knew everybody around here.”

  “It’s okay.” He didn’t have the heart to tell her it probably was somebody she knew, because most people are killed by persons known to them. And whether they’re from the projects or the suburbs, little kids can be taken quite easily. Poor little Leah probably walked off with her killer.

  Barrington stared out into the trees. It was peaceful. “How far is the trail from here?”

  “I’d say about three-quarters of a mile.”

  “That’s close.”

  “Mm-hm. You thinking of going in there?”

  “Do you think I should?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “That’s up to you, Detective. If you do, you’re on your own. I haven’t been in over 20 years.”

  “Of course, I don’t blame you one bit.”

  “Even before Leah was killed, I forbid my kids from walking back there. It felt sinister. Eerie. Like someone was...watching.” She shuddered as if trying to shake the memory off. “They liked to walk through there because it was a shortcut to the school. The police said the kids probably passed by Leah’s body on the way to and from school and didn’t even know it.”

  She smoothed her hands down the front of her pants, brushing away imaginary crumbs. Barrington didn’t want to ask the next question but he had to.

  “Ms. Glenda, I read in the case file that police were very hard on your husband. Did they have any reason to be?”

  “None at all. Sam was a good man. I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that he was Leah’s stepfather. See that was back when men weren’t afraid to take responsibility for another man’s child. Men don’t do that anymore.”

  Yes, we do.

  “He wasn’t their real father but he adopted Leah and my two boys and treated them like his own. He loved Leah and she loved him back. There was nothing untoward going on. I know that happens sometimes but not in this house.”

  “Understood. How did that affect him?”

  Ms. Glenda looked pained. “He didn’t handle it all that well. Depression. Drinking. Then he got sick in his liver. Sometimes I think he was glad to be sick so he could die in peace and leave all the suspicion behind. But he’s just been lingering.”

  “And what about you? How are you doing?”

  She smiled, the outer corners of her tear-filled eyes crinkling. “Nobody ever asks me that.” She sniffed. “I suppose I’ve just been taking it one day at a time. I’ll never get over it but I had to be strong for my boys. If not for them I would have crawled in that casket with her and died.”

  Her strength was admirable. She gave off a church mother vibe. Always on hand to feed, nurture, and nurse. All she needed was a white suit and hat.

  “Ms. Glenda, I appreciate you talking to me.”

  “Of course. I’m curious, though because you didn’t really explain it. What made you take an interest in my daughter’s case?”

  He hadn’t been prepared for that question. “I’m actually working on a different case. I’m not sure if you’ve heard about the missing black women on the east side.”

  “Oh yes, everybody’s heard of that. It’s all over the news.”

  “Right. I’m taking a look at older cases to see if I can find any links. It’s a long shot but we’re working every angle.”

  “I see. Well, I hope you find something.”

  “Yes, ma’am. When I read the file I decided no matter what happens with the recent cases, Leah’s case deserves another look. I can’t promise we’ll solve it but I will look into it. I give you my word.”

  Ms. Glenda grabbed his right hand with both of hers and squeezed. “Thank you. I appreciate you.”

  He was touched by the gesture and even more touched when she insisted on wrapping up some cookies for him to take. She hugged him goodbye and walked him to the door. He was halfway to his car when he remembered.

  “Ms. Glenda, I meant to ask earlier. Why did you say it didn’t make sense for Leah to walk to the clubhouse and find her brother?”

  “I forbid it because it was too far for her to walk alone. She never would have done that. I think the friend must have misheard.”

  HE PARKED ACROSS THE street from the clubhouse. It was a charming older building, made in the style of a log cabin.

  He walked across the street and down the sidewalk as Ms. Glenda had instructed him to do. The sidewalk sloped downward and then weaved around the back of the building. The woods began about ten feet from the end of the sidewalk. He could see why kids took the path, as the sidewalk gave way to a natural trail. It was inviting, and he found himself drawn to it.

  He stepped onto the pathway and followed its lead. About fifty feet in, the trees formed a canopy, grasping Barrington in its clutches. It was an unsettling feeling, but he couldn’t be certain if it was the environment or his knowledge of what had taken place there.

  The cicadas were singing, the crickets were chirping, and the leaves rustled loudly, creating a mellifluous tune that threatened to drown out Barrington’s own thoughts. He was so distracted he almost missed the little makeshift memorial that sat five feet off the path. He saw the bright pink roses in his peripheral vision and walked to his right. Two dirty teddy bears, discolored with age, sat next to the bouquet of fake roses and a small cross stood upright in the middle.

  He knelt down and looked at the items. He didn’t know where it came from, but he had the sudden urge to pray. So he did. He prayed that little Leah was at peace, and he prayed that her mother would also have peace and comfort.

  He imagined what it must have been like for the little girl, being led into these woods by her killer. Who was he, and why had he chosen Leah?

  Why was Tamara Johnston so sure her brother was involved? And what was the connection between Leah’s case and the current cases of the missing women? A thousand questions swirled around in Barrington’s head, and the most frustrating part was that he felt the connection in his gut but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Like a word on the tip of the tongue, the answer was there, and he could feel it, but it was obscured. He shook his head as if to jar something loose, but there was nothing.

  His s
tood to alleviate the pressure on his aching knees. He had been hopeful when he entered the woods, thinking he would find a clue that would spark something. Instead, he just felt beat down.

  He was turning to leave when a wave of heaviness washed over him, pushing him back to the ground. He leaned over, head in his hands, and cried out, not recognizing the sound coming out of him. He wept. He wept for little Leah, the brown girl in the picture with the beads on the end of her braids. Back then she would have played double dutch and drawn hopscotch squares on the sidewalk. She and her friends would have played those silly hand games with the rhymes to match, and then she would have run inside, smelling like outside, because dinner was ready. And later, she would take her bath, and her mother would remind her to put lotion on those knees, and she would say a prayer before falling asleep, a prayer that God would protect her and her family, having no idea that monsters were real, and that she was the prey. She wouldn’t yet know that the world would use and abuse her but never appreciate her, and if something happened to her, only her family would care. She couldn’t have known that this would be her resting place, separated from anyone who could help her, close to home but not close enough to be saved. He had seen the autopsy photos; the monster had not spared her. She was just a baby, just like his Taylor. That fact hit him hard.

  She deserved better. They all did.

  Chapter 24

  THE CEILING FAN SPUN slowly, barely awakening a breeze in the hot room. I stared at it through watery eyes, wishing the pain away. Each blink sent a salty tear down the side of my face until little puddles of misery formed in each ear.

  I had never felt so fragile in my life.

  Each movement felt like a fist straight to the muscle. Five aspirins weren’t helping at all and it was a good thing there were no guns in the house because I was certain I would have blown my brains out right then and there.

  My mother had called the night before to let me know Val found out I reported Andre and as far as she was concerned, I was no longer welcome in their lives. That included the boys. I suppose I had been expecting that but that knowledge did nothing to soften the blow. My mother, bless her heart, claimed she wasn’t taking sides but I knew better. She told me she would pray for me so that I could get past my pain and find forgiveness in my heart for my brother. I hope she was also praying I would find forgiveness for her.