The River's Secret

by Peggy Dulle

  “Why?” I asked, even though I knew the real reason. No parent would approve of her attire.

  “I didn't do my hair. I don't like my picture taken when I didn't spend time with my hair.”

  “This is just for your parents,” I insisted as I held the camera further out the window toward her.

  She took another step back. “Actually, it's a little chilly tonight. I think I'll change into some pants.”

  I shrugged. “Okay, I'll wait until you get back to take the picture.”

  She gave me a forced smile, turned too quickly and almost fell on her butt. I gave her credit; she recovered nicely and stomped into the house.

  Jay stifled a laugh and I turned and said, “Hookers get arrested with more clothes and less make-up on.”

  “I'm sure, Connie. But changing her clothes won't alter the fact that she's a fifteen-year-old adolescent with the body of a twenty-year old woman.”

  “I know. But I can't take her out like that,” I said pointing toward the house.

  “I agree,” he said. “Although sometimes people can wear a different mask on the outside, like their clothing or job but inside they can’t change who they are. Let's just see if new clothes make any difference.”

  A few minutes later Samantha returned. The only thing unchanged was the ludicrously high-heeled sandals. Everything else was gone. She discarded the crop top for a short sleeved red peasant top. The mini skirt was replaced with a pair of tight black boot-cut jeans. She toned down the makeup from clownish to alluring. It was actually worse. Before, she looked like a kid made-up to look older, now she actually looked older.

  Jay let out a long breath. “Oh yeah, that's better.”

  I leaned out the window with my phone, Samantha struck a pose and I clicked the camera. She gave a finger wave to Jay, who leaned forward so that he could see around me.

  Samantha opened the side door and between giggles said, “Hi, Jay.”

  “Good evening, Samantha. You look lovely.”

  Her smile broadened and she winked at him. “Thanks, you look fab, too.”

  She slammed the door, put on her seat belt, and leaned back. As soon as we left her driveway, she started complaining about my music selection. I pushed the scan button and we listened to a snippet of each station. I vetoed rap and she vetoed everything I liked. We finally agreed on an alternative rock station that we both could live with.

  “Who else are we picking up?” I asked

  “Jonathan's my date, so we should get him next. Doug, Alicia, Georgiana, and Thomas are going with us too.” Samantha flipped open her cell phone, pushed a few buttons, and glued the thing to her ear. Why did I have to compromise on my music if she talked on the phone the entire way?

  Jonathan lived with his mother in a trailer park on the south end of town, so it took us a few minutes to get there. As we came down the street, Jonathan pushed off from the lamppost he leaned against and walked to the curb. His clothes never changed: baggy blue jeans held up by a belt low around his hips, t-shirt, and baseball cap turned backwards. Tonight he added a heavy silver chain that hung from his back belt loop to a front jean pocket. Formal wear for teenagers.

  Before we stopped, Samantha undid her seatbelt, threw open the side door, and jumped out into Jonathan's arms. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close and they kissed.

  When he started to slide his hands under her top, I rolled down my window. As soon as Jonathan saw me, he extricated himself from Samantha's arms and switched his baseball cap around. “Evening, Chief,” he said.

  “Good evening, Jonathan.”

  Samantha frowned at him, then glared at me. It wasn't my fault that Jonathan would be eighteen in two months, making him of legal age and her jailbait. The pitfalls and legal issues of dating a younger woman was one of the few talks I enjoyed giving at the high school. Jonathan and his crew had sat in the back row, but they all got the message. It didn't matter if the girl was willing, it was still statutory rape.

  “Did you ever find out who trashed my house?” I asked Jonathan as he climbed in after Samantha.

  Jonathan shook his head. “I’ve talked to every kid, even the band geeks and the chess club nerds. Nobody is copping to going into your house. They’re all too scared of you.”

  “Thanks for checking for me,” I told him. Now what? If he talked to all the kids, who did that leave?

  Jay looked at me, his brows knitted together.

  “I guess you missed that part of the Arroyo Gossip Line. You must have been in your writing mode. Somebody came into my house and made a mess.”

  “Did they take anything?” he asked.

  “No,” I shook my head. “I think they were looking for something to take and when they didn’t find anything, they threw a tantrum and made a mess.”

  We picked up the other kids and by unanimous vote, including Jay and me, we had Mongolian BBQ in a new place in Larksen for dinner. It was only a fifteen minute drive from Arroyo so we were there in no time. Watching the chef twirl his knives before cutting the meat was entertaining and the food was delicious. The kids all insisted upon using chopsticks. They dropped more food on the table and floor then they actually got into their mouths. Jay, however, was quite proficient with chopsticks and could even twirl a knife. I opted for a fork.

  “I worked in a Mongolian BBQ place in college,” he explained, then winked at me. “It’s fun and you get to impress all the girls with your fast hands.”

  Samantha and the other girls giggled. I rolled my eyes and went back to eating.

  The sun was low and surrounded by a bright orange sky when we came out of the restaurant. The streetlights were coming on and the cool breeze had ceased, giving the evening a warm, pleasant feel. It was more like the usual late autumn weather for Arroyo, rather than the torrents of rain we had a few days ago.

  We piled back into Jay's Suburban and drove to the Arroyo movie theater. It was a small theater showing only two movies: a slasher movie and a science fiction flick. Originally I figured the kids could go to any movie they wanted and so could Jay and I because the movies started and stopped within a few minutes of each other. But the way Samantha hung all over Jonathan, I didn't want her out of my sight if I was responsible for her virtue tonight. Maybe I should have given a talk to the high school girls, too?

  The kids wanted to see the slasher movie, Jay didn’t care and I was outvoted. A psychopathic killer stalking and killing a sequence of victims in a graphically violent manner just hit too close to home. They all thoroughly enjoyed it, although I found it childish and mostly stupid. Afterward we went out and had huge sundaes at Myrna's Shop, the local ice cream parlor. Myrna had put mixings like fruit and cookies into ice cream for decades, long before it became popular with other places.

  It didn't take us long to deposit the young people at their doors and then wait to make sure they actually went inside. I let Samantha walk Jonathan from the car to his trailer. How much trouble could she get into with us waiting? She returned within a minute with a huge frown on her face. Guess the evening didn't end quite the way she'd hoped? Thank God!

  Samantha didn't say one word on the way back to her house. When we got there, I opened my door and glanced back at Jay. “I'll just be a minute.”

  He turned off his car. “I'll wait.”

  Samantha stormed toward the front door. I caught up with her on the porch. I grabbed her arm to stop her.

  She glared at me. “What?”

  “I want to talk to you for a minute.”

  “Why?” Samantha sighed loudly. “You already ruined my date and now you want to give me a lecture. Forget it.” She tried to pull her arm out of my grip, but I hung on.

  “Just a minute or two. Have a seat,” I said, as I let go of her arm and pointed at the porch swing.

  She stomped over and sat down so hard that the swing started up, then crossed her arms across her chest and glared at me.

  I might as well get right to it. “Jonathan has a birthday coming,
right?”

  “Yes, he's going to be eighteen in exactly six weeks.”

  “But right now, he's seventeen and you're fifteen. What does that mean to you?”

  “That I actually have only six weeks to have sex with him before I become jailbait and my parents have him thrown into one of your jail cells,” she said nonchalantly, with a bit of challenge in her voice.

  Samantha knew exactly what she was doing and what she wanted.

  “That's true.” I patted her on the leg. “Make sure you use some protection and try not to break Jonathan's heart, will you?”

  She nodded and I walked off the porch. Chaperoned group dates were probably the best thing for Samantha, but that wouldn't stop her from doing what she wanted to do. She did seem much more mature than her chronological age. So hopefully, she will be prepared for the event and any consequences.

  When I got into the Suburban, Jay had turned the music back to a country western station, an obvious move, but I smiled at him and put my seatbelt back on.

  “Everything okay?” he asked as he pulled out from Samantha's driveway.

  “Fine,” I said. “She's a very mature girl for her age.”

  “They all are,” Jay scoffed. “We guys have no hope around you girls.”

  I put my hand on my chest, batted my eyes and teased him, “We girls know exactly what we're doing, too.”

  He laughed, it was rich and full. I joined him.

  When we got back to my house, Jay walked me to my front door. I had a nice time, even with the added companions. At my door, he pulled me to him and kissed me. God, he was a great kisser. But damn, it didn't do a thing for me.

  I moved away from him. “Thanks for a great evening, Jay. And thanks for letting the kids tag along.”

  “You're welcome, Connie.” He stepped toward me.

  I backed against my front door. He came toward me again, slipped his hands around my waist, pulled me to him, and kissed me again. I let him, hoping that some spark would ignite, but nothing did. Maybe it was just too soon. It would be fun, I was sure of that. But I wasn't ready to start another relationship for the wrong reasons again. I put my hands on his chest and slowly pushed us apart.

  He didn't resist. When he was a few inches from me, he tilted his head up and looked into my eyes. In his, I saw desire. It burned bright and hot. It would be easy to step forward and let that fire consume me. I had done it before. And that time I had been married. Now I wasn't. But what did he see in my eyes? Certainly not desire. I just didn't feel that way about him.

  “Are you sure, Connie?” Jay asked, interrupting my thoughts.

  William's words came back to me, his face, the hurt in his eyes when I asked him to leave. Why did everyone keep asking me if I was sure? It was getting annoying. “Thanks for dinner and the movie, Jay.”

  “You're welcome, Connie.” He stepped away from me. “Can we do it again?”

  “Sure.” It wasn't like I had a bad time.

  He turned to leave, then glanced back. “You can bring your teenage entourage, if you want.”

  I smiled, waved, and opened my front door.

  On my kitchen table was an envelope. It had to be the preliminary sketches from Dr. Radcliff. I opened the envelope, took out two pictures, and held one in each hand. A sense of familiarity came over me. I had seen these girls before.

  Then the world went black.

  Chapter 29

  When I came to, my mind was fogged over. The cool tile of my kitchen floor felt good against my skin. What had happened? Was I now having blackouts without the anxiety attack first? My head throbbed. I stood up, went to my bedroom, took a couple of aspirins, and lay down on my bed, closed my eyes, and waited for the pain in my head to subside. Slowly the pain eased and I opened my eyes. My alarm clock said eleven-thirty. What time had we gotten back from the ice cream parlor? Around ten. I was out for an hour and a half? What the hell happened?

  I was afraid to get up too quickly, afraid that the headache would come back, so I lay there in the dark a few more minutes. Finally, I slid my legs off the bed, let my feet touch the floor, and sat up. A wave of nausea came over me and my head throbbed. I put my hands on my sides to steady myself and took deep, slow breaths until my head eased again.

  I reached over to the nightstand and turned on the lamp. That's when I felt something trickling down my neck. When I touched the back of my head, it felt sticky. I brought my hand to the light - blood. Had I hit my head on the table when I passed out? No. If that was it, the blood would be on the front of my head and not the back. Someone had hit me. The vandals who had trashed my house? I reached into the drawer of the nightstand, unlocked my gun box, took out my gun, and went to search the rooms in my house. Chances were the perps were gone, but I had better make sure.

  I checked each room, no one was there. Then I remembered the pictures of the two girls. They seemed familiar and I wanted to see them again. But when I got into the kitchen, the pictures and envelope were gone. On the table sat a note and a ring. A blue sapphire ring.

  Your turn to save him.

  Shit! The Jackal had William. He hadn't left my house and gone back to D.C. Somewhere between the two places, the Jackal had grabbed him. But where? And when had the Jackal gotten into my house? What the hell was going on?

  I found my cell phone and made some calls.

  First to John. I told him about the note at my house.

  “Where do we start looking for William?” John asked. “There are thousands of miles between Arroyo and D.C.”

  “Get your people to check airlines and see which one William took out of Arroyo.”

  “Okay, I'll give Sheryl a call.

  “John, can you get the team on a plane right away?”

  “Sure, but where do we go?” John asked.

  “Head toward Arroyo. When Sheryl finds out where William went, you can change your flight plan and I can head your way. It will be quicker. I don’t know what the Jackal’s time frame is going to be and I want you close.”

  “We’re on our way. We’ll find him, Connie.” John hung up.

  Next, I got Bob out of bed. It took him several minutes to fully come awake. I told him what happened.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I've got a bump on my head, but I'm fine.”

  “What do you want me to do, Chief?”

  “Call Dr. Radcliff and get me another copy of those pictures. I'm packing to leave and will be out of here as soon as we know where the Jackal has taken William.”

  “Okay.” He yawned.

  “Get up, Bob,” I shouted. “In fact, drive to Parsonville and pick up the pictures. By the time you get there, she should have them done. Leave now, Bob, and get them back to me before I leave. Sirens and lights, Bob. Do it quick.”

  “Okay, okay.” I heard him get out of bed. “The roads should be empty. If I push it, I can be back in an hour and a half.”

  “Don’t get in an accident, Bob. Just get back as quickly as you can.”

  I hung up the phone and dialed Doc. He wasn't asleep. Mrs. Towers had actually gone into premature labor and he was at the hospital.

  I told him I had blacked out and hit my head. There wasn't any reason to get him involved in the Jackal case. “I'm on my way to the hospital. I want you to take a look at my head.”

  “Okay, but if you need a few stitches, I'll get Glenda to do it. She's working in the ER tonight. That way you won't have a scar up the back of your head.”

  “It would just match the rest of me.”

  “Shut up, Connie. Get your ass over here.”

  I put the ring and the note in my pocket, my gun in my shoulder holster, and grabbed a jacket to cover it. Then I put my suitcase into my squad car and drove over to the hospital.

  Doc took one look at me and refused to stitch the four-inch gash I had across the back of my head, so I ended up in the emergency room. A couple of people sat in the waiting room. Angela Frenz held Virginia, her three month old girl, whose cheeks were br
ight red with fever. And Craig, one of Jonathan's stooges, sat with his mom and cradled his right arm - probably broken doing something stupid. They were all here before me but I needed to find William so I pushed to the front of the line. Being the police chief does come with some privileges.

  As a nurse shaved a section of my hair and cleaned the wound, my cell phone rang. When I answered it, she frowned. “Hold still or I'm going to accidentally give you a Mohawk.”

  I ignored her. A bad hair cut wasn't the worst thing that could happen today. “Hello.”

  “It's Sheryl. I've tracked all the airlines leaving Parsonville. William wasn't on any of them.”

  I inhaled quickly, my pulse spiked. “He's still here someplace?”

  “Are you okay, Chief Davenport?” The nurse asked, interrupting my conversation with Sheryl.

  “Fine.”

  She pointed to the monitor attached to the cuff on my arm. I didn't know how to read it, but the little green lines jumped up and down.

  I ripped the thing off.

  “Do you think he might have rented a car and driven someplace?” I heard Sheryl say.

  “He wouldn't do that,” I told her. “He always prefers his first class seats on an airplane over even a few hours in a car.”

  “Well then, unless he left under an assumed name, he's got to still be there. It was late when he left you. Maybe he decided to spend the night at a local motel?”

  “No way,” I said. “Arroyo doesn't have a hotel good enough for William. It's just a little podunk town.”

  “Well, we’ve been in the air an hour or so already. We should be there by five.”

  Just what I needed, the FBI taking over my town. “I'll send a squad car to bring you from Parsonville to Arroyo.”

  “Thanks, but we'll probably need more than one. Matthew's sending several other agents to help, too.”

  As soon as I hung up, Glenda came into my room. She was in her fifties, white hair, pretty blue eyes. She was a few inches shorter than me, but carried herself like she was over six feet tall. A large personality and a mouth to match.

  "What the hell happened, Connie?" she asked.