by Angie Martin
“Call me when you’re on your way over tonight?” he asked.
“Of course,” Emily said. She let go of his hand and he left her office. After her door shut, she collapsed back into the chair and covered her forehead with her hand. A headache set in and she closed her eyes against the suddenly bright lights in her office.
She regretted not leaving the office with him and not taking him up on his offer to escort her to her mom’s assisted living facility. The only one who could keep her mind clear, Jake protected her from the malevolent entity calling to her from deep inside the darkness. She wouldn’t feel safe again until later that evening, when his arms were wrapped around her.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Crying came in all forms. Whimpering, blubbering, silent tears. Over the years, Lionel had sat through every possible type of cry. As he had a thousand times before, he wished he had ear plugs to protect his damaged ear drums.
As Stephanie Price’s roommate of over three years, Lindsay Alcott had a lot of reasons to cry at the disappearance of her best friend. Lionel did not fault her for that, but the hysterical crying had not stopped since she stepped foot in the police station.
From the way Timmons warned him about her constant crying while he and Aurelio interviewed her at her house, Lionel thought she would have run out of tears by the time Shawn brought her back to the interview room. In the sterile room with the two detectives, though, her tears renewed themselves, first with the concern that she might be in trouble, then with concern for her friend.
They didn’t consider for a second that Lindsay had anything to do with Stephanie’s disappearance, but they needed to pull every bit of information out of her. Having one of them focused on her comfort while the other focused on what she could offer the investigation gave them the best opportunity to learn something new. Because Lindsay appeared more drawn to Shawn, walking closer to him and leaning in his direction, he took over the role of comforter for this interview. He moved his chair over to Lindsay’s side of the table, gave caring pats on her back and arm, and spoke only with a soothing tone.
“I don’t know what more I can tell you that I didn’t already tell the other two detectives,” Lindsay said through her shuddering tears. “I told them everything I know.”
While Timmons and Aurelio had asked a large number of questions during their interview, Lionel wanted to try to get more information from her than just the basic overview she provided them. “Let’s start from the beginning,” Lionel said. “Why did you call missing persons to file a report at four o’clock in the morning? What made you think Stephanie was missing?”
“She never came home last night.”
“Where had she gone?” Lionel asked.
“She went into town to have dinner with her two sisters. They always have dinner on Tuesday night until late.”
“What does ‘late’ mean?”
“The diner closes at eleven and she would head straight home after that. She was never home later than twelve-thirty, even if she stopped for gas on the way.”
“Do you know the name of the diner?” Shawn asked.
Lindsay rolled her squinted eyes toward the ceiling. “I don’t know the name exactly. I mean, I do know it, but I can’t remember. It’s the one by the train tracks in the west side of Wichita. It’s shaped like a train.”
“Burger Station?” Lionel asked. It was a popular greasy spoon diner that he had been to with Barbara several times, despite not living on that side of town.
Lindsay snapped her fingers. “That’s it.”
“How long has Stephanie been going to dinner with her sisters on Tuesdays?” Shawn asked. “Is it always the same place?”
“They love Burger Station and that’s where they always go. They’ve been meeting there on Tuesday nights for a couple years now, ever since their dad passed away. It was the last place they had dinner together with their dad, and it was the Tuesday night before he died. They turned that last dinner into a tradition.”
She turned to Shawn, water spilling over from her eyes. “Their mom died when they were little, so all they had left was their dad. Now they...only have...each...other.” Large heaves divided her last words, and her tears overcame her.
“It’s okay, Lindsay,” Shawn said, rubbing her forearm. “We’re going to do everything we can to find her and we’ve already fast-tracked the process. But it’s very important you tell us everything you can. Even the smallest, most insignificant details can help.”
“When was the last time you spoke to her?” Lionel asked. He already knew the answer to this, and many other questions, but wanted to test her to see if there were any lies or missed information in her earlier stories. Though he had no reason to doubt her story, he had listened to people lie about far less with no apparent motive.
“We spoke last night on her way home. She always calls me after she leaves the diner. We never finished our conversation because the call dropped. There’s a place in her drive home where she has no service. I tell her all the time to find a different way home, in case her car breaks down in the dead zone, but she hasn’t gotten around to it yet.”
“That’s very smart thinking,” Shawn said.
“Did you try to reach her after she dropped the call?” Lionel asked.
“I didn’t try for about ten minutes. It’s a big dead zone, and she usually calls me once she’s through it. Last night she didn’t call me back, so I tried to call her and it went straight to voicemail.”
“Did that seem unusual to you?” Lionel asked.
“No,” Lindsay said. “She always forgets her phone charger at home, so I figured the phone just died.”
“What were you talking about last night?” Shawn asked.
“This guy she met at work. He asked her out, and she told him yes, but she really doesn’t like him that much, at least not like that. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so she said yes. She was worried that after they went out, she would have a hard time telling him she didn’t want a second date, and she wanted my advice.”
Lionel and Shawn exchanged a look. Someone so nice would assume the best in everyone and be extremely trusting. She probably wouldn’t turn down help from a stranger, even from a man on a deserted road in the middle of the night.
“I said she should have just told him she didn’t want to go out with him in the first place,” Lindsay continued, “but she was too worried about his feelings. I think when they go out on their date Friday night she’ll tell him she just wants to be friends.”
“And would she be?” Lionel asked. “Friends, that is.”
Lindsay bobbed her head up and down. “Oh, yeah. She won’t lie to him about being friends just to get him off her back. She really will become friends with him.”
“She sounds like a very sweet, trusting girl,” Shawn said.
“The nicest person,” Lindsay said.
“I take it she’s pretty trusting of everyone she meets?” Lionel asked.
“Absolutely, and sometimes to a fault.” She looked at Shawn again, as if they had some sort of bond and she could confide in him. “People aren’t always so nice, and she gets hurt from time to time, but she never gives up on people. If someone hurts her, she tries to take the high road and befriend them. She believes in second chances for everyone.” Lindsay giggled and shook her head. “Sometimes third chances, too.”
“You said that you were worried her car might break down in the dead zone,” Lionel said. “Did she have AAA where she could call them if she had car trouble?”
“Yes, but if she was in the dead zone, it wouldn’t do her any good.”
“Hypothetically,” Lionel said, “if her car died in the dead zone and she couldn’t call you or AAA, would she be the type of person to accept help from a stranger?”
“I would advise against it,” Lindsay said, “but yes. She wouldn’t think twice about it.”
Lionel stood up, prompting Shawn and Lindsay to do the same. He held out his business card to Lind
say. “I really appreciate you coming in today.”
Shawn also handed her his business card. “If you think of anything else that might help, please call us and let us know.”
“I will,” Lindsay said, reading Shawn’s card. “Will you let me know if you find anything?”
“Of course we will,” Lionel said. “Sergeant Brandt will show you out.”
After Shawn led Lindsay out of the interview room, Lionel slumped down into the chair and looked at his notes. He had no doubt that the killer had Stephanie Price. He had found the perfect victim in her. None of the other women would have fallen for this type of ruse, but she would have trusted anyone who came by to help. If the killer could con her into getting in his car in the middle of the night on a deserted road, he was more of a deadly chameleon than they ever expected.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Emily never found the assisted living facility to have a pleasant odor. The hallways carried the distinct odors of ammonia mixed with death, floating among decaying residents who came there to live out their final years.
Though she couldn’t afford much more than this facility, she rested easy knowing the smells inside did not reflect the care her mom received. The nurses assigned to her mom were kind and gentle, and her doctor always took the time to explain everything in great detail.
Emily signed into the visitor’s log and pressed a nametag on her blouse. Simon, her mom’s favorite nurse, rushed over to her and wrapped his arms around her. Simon was the first nurse she met when she checked her mom into the facility six years earlier. As the only nurse who placated her delusional tantrums without cracking under her insults, her mom took to him.
Easily the most difficult patient in the facility, her mom directed her infamous tantrums not only at Emily, but also at the nursing and orderly staff. Not even the janitor who attended to her room could catch a break. She rarely left her room and insisted her meals be delivered to her there, ready to attack anyone who dared to come through her door. Simon did not let her affect him, but broke down her arrogant walls and played her game. Even in her most forgetful states, she always remembered Simon.
“How is Mom?” Emily asked.
Simon released her from his bear hug and they started walking toward her room. “She’s dreadful, as always,” Simon said, rolling his eyes. “I was off work the past two days, and she refused to take her medication. Earlier this morning, she threw water in Jenny’s face and claimed she wanted her executed for trying to poison her.”
“So, she’s back in medieval times.” She gave him a sad smile. “Good to know.”
Several years earlier, her mom was diagnosed with frontotemporal dementia, even before the Alzheimer’s set in. Her brash behavior became increasingly erratic, and her already sour personality changed for the worse. She had been caught several times running around the facility half-naked, and had overeaten to the point of gaining more than fifty pounds during the first six months of her diagnosis.
Her inappropriateness was offset by periods of time when she would stare out the window with nothing to say. She made up for the holes the Alzheimer’s left in her memory by creating new worlds in which she lived. Sometimes she was a duchess, other times a queen, or a wealthy socialite. No matter the story, at all times she was rich and privileged, and she always hated her burdensome daughter.
“Tell Jenny I’m so sorry,” Emily said. She hated any of the nurses being on the receiving end of her mom’s bad behavior.
“We all know how your mom is and how sorry you are about it, although you shouldn’t be. You didn’t make her like this. We just don’t understand why you still come around so often. I wouldn’t if she were my kin.”
Emily questioned that as well, but locked up her thoughts before she shared them. “I have a meeting with Doctor Luxor next week to see about changing her meds again. If we can just find the right combination and dosage of pills, maybe we can get her back to somewhat normal and she’ll stop terrorizing everyone.”
He huffed. “Honey, anything would be better than this. I’m tired of my co-workers being sent off for beheadings.”
“You and me both,” Emily said.
Simon stopped in front of her mom’s door. “Best of luck, Em. I’ll be nearby if you need help.” He wandered off toward a patient calling for assistance.
She took a deep breath and turned the doorknob. Though the residents were allowed to decorate however they wanted, her mom’s room was just as sterile as the rest of the facility. After her mom broke the third plant Emily brought her, Emily stopped trying to decorate her room and gave in to her mom’s wishes to leave it a dull beige and grey.
When she first came to the facility, Emily could only afford a semi-private room. It only took a week before the director of the facility called a meeting with Emily and explained her mom had terrorized her roommate. She had to either move her mom to a private room or out of the facility altogether.
Emily explained the financial strain with paying for even the semi-private room, and the director agreed to give her mom a private room at the same cost as a semi-private. Once Emily’s business picked up, she met with the director and offered to pay the normal cost of the private room.
Even with the private room, her mom had been the sole force behind three orderlies and two nurses quitting their jobs during her first year at the facility. It had been a rough road for all involved in her mom’s care, and the extreme burden always weighed on Emily.
This evening, her mom sat beside the window in a reclining reading chair, her grey hair styled in a regal updo, face painted with heavy makeup complete with red slashes of lipstick. She looked ready for a night out on the town, despite her wearing her favorite black cotton bathrobe. Her reading glasses were fixed on her nose, but she didn’t have a book in her hands.
Emily sighed with relief. Maybe her mom had slipped back into a silent state, giving them both some peace during her visit.
She pulled a visitor’s chair in front of her mom’s recliner. Keeping her tone soft so as not to startle her, Emily said, “Hi, Mom. It’s me, Emily. I’ve missed you and I hope you’re having a good day today.”
Her mom didn’t respond. She stared out the window, distance in her eyes and a smile playing on her lips.
“Simon said you had some troubles with your medicine. Doctor Luxor said it’s really important to take your medicine every day, no matter who gives it to you. The medicine will make you feel better, but only if you take it.”
Her mom shifted in her chair and continued looking through the glass without a word.
“I met a man last weekend,” Emily said. She was never sure how much of her life she should share with her mom, but her excitement over Jake didn’t allow her to keep their romance a secret. “His name is Jake Hanley and he’s wonderful. I think you’d like him a lot. He treats me really good, and he might just be the one. He wanted to come meet you tonight, but I thought you and I should have some time alone together. Maybe he can come next time and meet you.”
No response.
Emily followed her mom’s gaze out the window. The night left the view blackened, and she wondered what her mom saw that kept her eyes fixated on the dark courtyard. “Business has been really great,” she said. “Cassie and I are signing a new contract with Heartland Insurance. It’s a lot more business for us, so we’re hiring a couple new people.”
Her mom lowered her eyes to her fingers.
“We’re working on a new case, Mom. It’s really got me spooked, but I don’t know how to tell Cassie or Jake about what’s happening to me, even though I should. I really wish I had you or Aunt Susan around to help.”
Emily pursed her lips at her mom’s silence. Her mom wouldn’t respond to her, at least not tonight. Given how peaceful her mom looked, she didn’t want to stay longer and possibly stir up trouble. It was always nice to leave her mom on a good note, even though it happened only once or twice a year.
She replaced the visitor’s chair in the corner of the r
oom, and then went back to her mom. She leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I love you, Mom. I’ll see you in two weeks.” She turned to leave.
“I used to have a daughter named Emily.”
She whirled around at her voice. “Mom, I’m Emily.”
Her mom looked Emily over with an air of superiority and snubbed her nose up. “You’re not my daughter,” she said. “My good-for-nothing daughter is dead.”
She didn’t let the words affect her. She had heard similar things so often, but she never knew if her mom said them because she didn’t remember Emily or if she wanted to hurt her. “No, Mom. I’m your daughter, Emily. Don’t you remember me?”
Her mom pressed her lips together and sat up straight. She folded her hands on her lap and narrowed her eyes. “When that little brat was two, she started choking on some of my expensive hard candy she stole out of my crystal candy dish. Her worthless father removed the candy from her throat, but he should have let her choke to death. Would have saved me a heap of trouble.”
The story was not part of her mom’s fantasy world. Emily had heard many times from Aunt Susan how her father performed the Heimlich maneuver on his young daughter. It was the last part of her mom’s statement that ripped her heart to shreds.
Emily clamped her hand over her mouth. “Mom, you can’t mean that.” Her muffled voice trembled under the weight of her mom’s words. Her stomach tightened, and without warning the darkness overcame her mind. She clutched her stomach and fought against the nausea brewing deep inside her gut.
“He’s going to get you. I can smell the filth all over you.” Her mom turned toward her, flinging hatred at Emily from her eyes. “You deserve what’s coming.”
Emily raced out of the room and slammed the door shut. She crouched on the ground outside of the door with her tear-streaked face buried in her hands and tried to shut out the sound of her mom’s cruel laughter from the other side of the door. Someone knelt down in front of her and grabbed her shoulders. She lifted her head just enough to see Simon’s kind face.