Damaged Amazon

by Kim Pritekel

  “Shannon,” she murmured, lovingly stroking the smooth plastic cover of Phantom of the Opera.

  Replacing everything exactly how she found it, she walked over to the bed, her heart heavy and emotions rising. She plopped down on the sagging mattress, hands in her lap as she looked around the bedroom. She couldn’t help but think that what she was looking at was what Shannon saw every morning when she woke up.

  Reaching behind her, she grabbed one of Shannon’s pillows and placed it in her lap. She rested her hand on its soft fullness before she lifted it to her face, closing her eyes as she inhaled the scent that was a combination of her sister’s shampoo and the smell of the other products she used in her gorgeous auburn hair. She was the only one in the family whose hair wasn’t some shade—natural shade—of brown. The tears came swiftly as she hugged the pillow to her chest.

  “Where are you?” she whispered.

  As though her question had been answered, Nora froze. She heard a key being inserted into the deadbolt and then the doorknob. Tossing the pillow aside, she ran into the living room.

  “Shannon?” she called out desperately as the door was being pushed open.

  Briefly, she saw a male figure dressed in jeans and a black hoodie, but then he turned around and ran.

  “Hey!”

  Nora ran to the door and swung it open the rest of the way, eyes wide as she scoured the walkway and stairs. She saw a flash of dark clothing jump over the last five stairs of the first floor, nearly losing his footing as he continued running.

  Pushing off the doorframe, Nora ran down the walkway and almost lost her own footing as she took the stairs as quickly as she dared. She barely felt the scrape to her hand grazing the brick of the building as she rounded the corner where she’d seen the man flee. The building backed up to a dense copse of trees, and there was no way she’d be able to follow or see him.

  Out of breath, she turned around and headed back to the third-floor apartment, the key still in the door that had been used to unlock it. Nora’s heart froze in her throat when she saw the keychain dangling from it. It was a little clay heart that Bella had painted for her mother in daycare for the previous Mother’s Day. She knew better than to touch it in case there would be fingerprints on it.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Nora whipped around to see Sarah taking the last couple stairs up to the third floor, her eyes locked on her.

  “Nora, you can’t be here.” Sarah walked up to her, dressed similarly to how she’d been on their first encounter in Interview Room 2. “You can’t.”

  “Someone tried to get into her apartment,” Nora said, ignoring Sarah’s admonishment.

  “What?”

  Nora pointed at the key, though she now noticed Shannon’s car key was missing. “I was in the bedroom and I heard someone coming in. I hurried to the living room and it was some guy.”

  Sarah’s expression instantly transformed from irritation to the professional she was. “Come with me.” Nora followed Sarah into the apartment where she was told to sit down. Nora did and watched as Sarah pulled an evidence bag out of the pocket of her blazer and a pen. She used the pen to hook the loop of the keychain and gently tugged the key loose from the lock where it dangled. Sealing it up, Sarah closed the door and walked over to Nora, sitting beside her. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and made a quick call for a CSI unit to fingerprint. Turning her attention back to Nora, she asked, “Who would have a key to Shannon’s apartment? Besides obviously you.”

  “Nobody, that I know of,” Nora said, hugging herself. She felt sick. “The key I have came from the neighbor who initially called me.”

  “Can I have that key, please, Nora?” Sarah asked softly, holding out her hand.

  Nora placed it in her palm, noting the long, beautiful fingers she had once known very well. She looked away. Clearing her throat, she returned her gaze to Sarah in time to see her tuck the key into her pocket and pull out the same notepad she had used when taking notes that first day.

  “Tell me everything,” Sarah said, pen poised above the page, an expectant look on her face.

  Forty-five minutes later, Nora was almost to her car, the duffel bag she’d packed when she’d gotten there in hand. She reached into her pocket and removed her keys, pressing the button to unlock the doors.

  “Hey.”

  She turned to see Sarah walking up to her. Nora pulled open the back driver’s side door and tossed the duffel bag inside before turning toward Sarah.

  “Are you okay?” Sarah asked, leaning a shoulder against the side of the vehicle.

  Nora considered how she felt as she glanced back at the building before returning her gaze to the woman standing on the other side of her open door. “I suppose so. I don’t think I’ve fully processed this all yet. I mean, the bastard who I chased down may be responsible for why my sister is missing. As you said, how else would he have her keys?”

  Sarah nodded. “I know and I’m sorry. I mean”—she blew out, bringing up a hand to brush long strands of her dark hair out of her face that the slight breeze had picked up—“though I don’t want you or anyone else in Shannon’s place right now, I guess it turned out good that you were.” She gave her a small smile. “You may have given us a lead and no doubt at least something to chew on.”

  Nora nodded, shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “Well,” she said softly, troubled by how comfortable she felt around Sarah, “I’d better go. I need to pick Bella up from Jill’s place. I didn’t expect to be here so long.”

  “I understand.” Sarah backed away from her car. “I’ll be in touch if I need anything or learn anything, okay?”

  Again, Nora nodded. “Okay. Thanks, Sarah.”

  Sarah gave her a quick smile and a wave before she turned and headed back to the building.

  Nora watched her go before she tore her eyes away.

  Chapter Nine

  “Grab my hand!” he roared, hoping to be heard over the rage of the inferno below, the flames licking their way up the ruined elevator shaft, turning the square metal tube into an Easy-Bake Oven. Sweat beaded on his forehead, plastering dark bangs to his skin. “Take it!”

  She looked down then back up at him, panic in her eyes. “I can’t.”

  “You have to.” He looked beyond her, reaching up to swipe at the sweat puddling above his upper lip. “You can do this, Amanda.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “Hold on tight!”

  Without even finding out if he’d been heard, he grunted as he climbed down as far as he dared. He reached both hands down and snagged the terrified woman’s wrists. The heat was unbearable and the noise, noise like he’d never heard before. It sounded like a freight train and it was gaining speed.

  “Hold on!” he yelled. Again, he glanced behind him. “I got her! Pull! I said pull, goddamn it!”

  He gritted his teeth as slowly, oh so slowly, he was pulled back to the open maw of the elevator door. Amanda inched up with him.

  “We’re going to die!” Amanda sobbed, the tears pale trails in the soot on her exquisite face.

  For that moment, everything disappeared for him except her. He smiled at her, holding onto her even tighter.

  “No we won’t,” LJ said, fingers racing across the keypad of his laptop. “In that moment,” he said, typing as he spoke, “Jack knew he’d never leave her again. The end.”

  He grinned, sitting back in his black leather captain’s chair in his home office. He reread the last few paragraphs and dialogue and, thrilled with what he read, he grinned, punching himself in the arm for a job well done. He clicked on the Save feature in time for Kristie to burst into the office.

  Annoyed, he quickly slammed down the top of his laptop, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

  “Looking at porn again, huh?” the teen smirked, throwing herself sideways into one of the two chairs on the opposite side of the desk.

  He was irritated with himself as he blushed. As innocent as what he’d been do
ing was, he felt ashamed. “What do you want, punk?” he asked instead, his tone light and friendly.

  “Well,” she drawled, swinging the leg that was tossed over the arm of the leather high-back chair she was sprawled in. “I was wondering if I could borrow the Volvo.” Her gaze fell to her grape-purple-painted nails. “Me and Julia want to go see a movie.”

  He leaned forward, moving the laptop aside as he laced his elbows in its place. “Did you ask your mom?”

  Kristie blew out a sarcastic breath, bringing her hand up to swipe black bangs out of her eyes. “Would you?”

  “Touché,” he chuckled. He studied his daughter for a moment. “What’s the occasion?” he asked.

  “Nothing, God!” Kristie growled. “Can’t I go out with my friend?”

  He smirked. “I suppose so.” He reached into his pants pocket and removed the key to the spare car, which the couple intended to give to Kristie upon graduation. He tossed it to her, Kristie catching it in midair.

  “Thanks!” she gushed, popping up from the chair.

  “I expect it to be full of gas when you return by ten thirty.”

  “Ten thirty? Dad…” she whined.

  “Kristie…” he mocked her. “It’s a school night.”

  She sighed dramatically. “Fine.” She pocketed the key. “Thanks, Dad.” She turned to leave.

  “Wait.” LJ grabbed his ring of keys again and found the small brass one that fit the bottom drawer of his desk. He quickly inserted it and pulled it open. Inside was a small lockbox filled with cash. He pulled out two twenties and closed the box then relocked the drawer. Getting to his feet, he walked over to her, holding the money out. “Here,” he said quietly, glancing over his daughter’s shoulder to make sure his wife wasn’t anywhere around. “You girls have a fun night on me.”

  Kristie looked down at the bills as she took them before she looked up into his sad gaze. “Dad, I can’t take this,” she said just as quietly. “I know how it works, and I know that’s all you’ve got to spend.”

  LJ cleared his throat and looked away, embarrassed.

  “Come on, I know that’s why you always want scratch tickets for your birthday.” She grinned up at him and gave him a quick but tight hug. “I love you, Dad.”

  He smiled as he hugged her back. “I love you, too, Bug.” He gave her a noisy kiss on her cheek. “Tell Julia I said hi.”

  “’Kay. Love you!” she called as she hurried from the room, grabbing her leather jacket from the coat closet near the front door before she nearly jogged out of the house.

  He stood where he was for a long moment, shaking his head. He loved that kid more than he ever knew it would be possible. After he and Adrienne were married and decided to try to get pregnant, he made up his mind then and there that he’d do his damndest to be the kind of father he always wished he’d had. The truth was, he was terrified. He was terrified he was a Junior for a reason and he’d be exactly like him.

  Deciding to call it a night, LJ opened his laptop and logged off before shutting it down. He cut the light in the office and headed to the kitchen. It was only 7:40 p.m., but he was in the mood for a snack.

  Padding across the wood floor in sock-clad feet, he opened the fridge, scanning the shelves for anything that looked good. His gaze fell on the chocolate cake Adrienne had brought home with groceries the day before. Pulling the confection out of the fridge in its clear plastic container, he butted the fridge door closed and set the cake on the island countertop.

  He reached into the cabinet next to the fridge to grab himself a plate.

  “Grab me one, too?”

  He glanced over his shoulder and was shocked to see Adrienne standing on the opposite side of the island. Without a word, he grabbed a second plate, closing the cabinet before returning his focus to the cake.

  After an awkward silence, the District 70 Superintendent spoke. “How’s practice going at P-Dub for the Pigskin Classic against County High?” she asked, P-Dub the nickname adopted for Pueblo West High School.

  He nodded. “Good. I mean, it’s not like County is that hard to beat.” He gave her a quick smile.

  “That’s wonderful. It’s so important for us to have a winning team and, well you know, a winning coach.”

  LJ said nothing but felt his stomach begin to roil.

  “Martin Murphy called today.”

  “Oh?” LJ responded, placing a piece on a plate and sliding it across the granite to his wife. “How are things in Cherry Creek?”

  “Good,” she said taking the fork he offered her. “He said George is definitely going to retire next year and wants me to go ahead and send in my resume.”

  He sighed, annoyed as he placed his own slice on the plate before replacing the plastic cover onto the plastic tray and returning the cake to the fridge.

  “LJ,” Adrienne said, “it’s the best district in the entire state. He’s already told me the money would be near double what I’m making here.”

  LJ held his fork in tanned fingers that matched extremely tanned features from so many hours outside training his players. “Adrienne, it’s never been about the money for us.”

  She cocked her head slightly to the side, long, naturally curly brown hair falling over her shoulder, and studied him with a hard, dark look. “No, for you it’s always been about what Daddy wanted. What about what I want, Larry? What Kristie wants?”

  “What Kristie wants?” LJ said, his tone incredulous. “What Kristie wants is to stay where her friends are. To stay where her family is. She wants to go to school here at CSU – Pueblo, Adrienne. She’s fine with that, and it’s a damn good school.”

  Adrienne cut a bite of cake with her fork. “You can be so selfish, Larry,” she said, shaking her head. “Absolutely selfish and have absolutely no vision for a good future for us.”

  “In Cherry Hills,” he said, palms resting on the cool stone of the counter. “I’ve lived there, I think you forget that. As much as you want all the status and stature, your ‘doubled’ salary”—he used air quotes—“won’t matter. This house”—he indicated the structure around them—“this place would be two to three times the cost.” He snorted. “On second thought, that price and not near this much house” Munchies vanished, he shoved his plate away. “How does that make sense? And, forget helping Kristie with school.”

  “I’m done with this conversation,” Adrienne said sharply, gathering her plate and fork and heading to the stairs.

  He watched her go and leaned back against the counter behind him, arms crossed over his chest.

  ****

  Colorado Springs, Colorado – 1994

  “This is a bad idea, Nora,” LJ said, glancing over at his sister who was expertly maneuvering her Honda through evening traffic as they entered the city at last. “I mean it.”

  “Nah, you can do this, LJ,” the eighteen-year-old responded, glancing over at her brother. “Nobody will know you and you’re really good.”

  LJ felt like he was about to throw up as he scrubbed his sweaty palms on the thighs of his jeans. He looked around, not recognizing where they were. “Nora, where are you taking me?”

  She grinned at him. “Don’t worry about it. You said you didn’t want to be recognized. You won’t be recognized.”

  Twenty minutes later, Nora pulled the small car into a packed parking lot. The building at the end was painted in dark colors with a bright rainbow neon sign announcing, Aqua Splash. He glanced over at his sister.

  “Why do I feel like I’m going to be slightly out of place here?”

  Nora pulled the parking brake and killed the engine. “Come on, stud,” she said with a chuckle.

  As they neared the building, LJ noticed the marquee said OPEN MIC NIGHT. “Oh God,” he whispered.

  She paid their three-dollar entry fee, and they both received a stamp on the back of their hands denoting they were underage so couldn’t be sold alcohol. LJ lamented that fact, as right then, he would have done anything for a shot.

  The clu
b looked like any other club, save for the smattering of very tall women, who after a closer look, LJ realized were men. He turned on Nora, eyes wide and panic in his voice.

  “You’ve brought me to a gay bar?”

  Nora laughed. “Hey, if anyone knows you here, somehow I think they’ve got the bigger problem.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen! Fags, hags, and beautiful boys.” The voice boomed over the club, and out of nowhere, a spotlight was on the flamboyant man on the stage, his glittery gold blazer nearly blinding. He held a microphone in one hand, the other resting on a hip. “It is my great pleasure to MC our open mic night tonight. So, all you singers, dancers, criers, and buyers, it’s your night!”

  LJ swallowed audibly. He allowed Nora to take his hand and lead him through the crowded club to a table in a corner. He felt nauseous, nervous, and overall, like he essentially wanted to die. The letterman jacket he wore suddenly felt hot and tight.

  He looked at his sister. “You are going to get me raped!” he hissed, noting a lot of men in leather who were checking him out a bit too affectionately.

  “Stop being such a pussy,” Nora hissed back.

  “First off, we have Jezebel!” the MC announced with a flourish, the crowd cheering.

  LJ watched, wide-eyed as “talent” after talent went up on stage.

  “And now, a super-duper special treat for you beautiful boys out there,” the MC spoke into the microphone, his ice-blue gaze aimed at LJ. “Our very own poet laureate, LJ Schaeffer!”

  LJ’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He looked at Nora, ready to throttle her.

  “Come on, LJ,” she said, her voice barely heard above the roar of the crowd. “Nobody knows you here.” She shoved at his bulk. “Go do your thing!”

  Nearly growling, LJ pushed to his feet and walked to the stage, taking the three stairs up as though he were walking to the gallows. He walked over to Mr. Flashy and took the microphone as well as the once-over the MC gave him.