Infatuations

by Barbara Winkes

  “We are trying to understand what happened.”

  “Yeah, well, let me know if you find out. I need to go. Is that all?”

  “Yes, thank you. We’ll be in touch.”

  Back in the car, Jordan saw she had a text from Dr. Adams. “I’m working on my report right now,” it said, “but don’t expect too much. No proof of outside influence.”

  “Does that make you feel better or worse?” Derek asked when she told him.

  “I’m not sure. I need coffee. I can’t think.”

  “Stayed up past your bedtime last night?”

  “None of your business. Over there,” she pointed at the coffee shop sign. “We can brainstorm meanwhile.”

  “Looks like it’s over. What’s to talk about?”

  Jordan wasn’t sure. Something still didn’t sit right with her. At the same time, she was afraid the CEO might have told the truth about Mrs. Kenning.

  “That’s why they call it brainstorming. If there’s something to find, we’ll find it.”

  * * * *

  By the time she watched Ellie getting ready for the evening at the Cranes’, Ariel’s aunt and uncle that had taken her in, Jordan still wasn’t sure what to think of the case. It stayed at the back of her mind. She found it hard to switch to off-time…though Ellie sitting in front of the mirror, putting on make-up with a sure hand, helped.

  “We’re not late, are we?” she asked, aware of Jordan’s scrutiny.

  “No. I just like watching you.”

  In the mirror, Ellie gave her a smile. “You want me to do you?”

  Jordan coughed, even as Ellie held up the small tube of mascara.

  “Oh. Okay. I was talking about this. I don’t think we’d have the time for what you’re implying.”

  “Yeah…That’s okay. I’ll wait for you downstairs,” Jordan said, quickly making her retreat. Ellie was still laughing.

  Chapter Five

  Seeing Ariel always came with many mixed emotions. Most importantly, Ellie was grateful that the girl had found a family that gave her a safe place to thrive. For a brief moment, she and Jordan had thought they could offer her that space. Then along came Becca Crane, a surgeon who had been out of the country to help in poorer places in the world. She had a husband, and a daughter who was a couple years younger than Ariel, all of them excited about the new addition to the family. A perfect happy ending.

  Sitting at the table with the Crane family was still a tad awkward, but of course it was up to the adults to keep the big picture in mind, to give some peace to a girl who had grown up in a highly abusive environment and was still grieving her mother. At the same time, the Cranes had to give their younger daughter the context she needed, in a way that was appropriate for her age.

  “So how’s school?” Jordan asked. It was a fairly safe question—they knew from Rebecca Crane that Ariel was doing well. Studying seemed to be a welcome distraction, and while girls’ education hadn’t been a priority for the cult, her mother Deborah had made sure she was up to date for her grade level.

  Ariel shrugged. “It’s okay. I wish people would stop asking me what it was like. They think it’s like some movie.” She straightened. “It’s all right though. Confusing. We didn’t have a lot of music and stuff…back then.”

  She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt now, her hair in a ponytail. When they’d found her, she’d been wearing the same shapeless dress and the braided hairstyle that was customary for women living with the Prophets of Better Days.

  “Mariah is helping me catch up,” she added, making the younger girl blush. “I’ve seen some of my siblings—my other siblings—as well, and Dad’s other wives. Many of them are doing better now.”

  “I’m glad. I’m sure it was good to talk to them.”

  “Oh yes. I want to write a book, to warn others. Rebecca promised to help me.”

  “That’s great,” Jordan said, but Ellie had caught the hint of alarm in her voice. There was something she needed to clear up.

  * * * *

  Ariel bonding with her new family was a good thing. A book, much like the one that had prompted the cult founder to order Jennifer Beaumont killed, wasn’t, in Jordan’s opinion. Not that the Prophets of Better Days had much reach these days, but she didn’t think Ariel was ready to tackle such a project. She finally had the time and space to be a teenager, free of the worry that she would have to become a wife any day.

  “I know what you want to say,” Becca Crane said when they were standing in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee to brew. “I was worried too, but we talked with the therapist, and she said it might actually help her. We’ll take it slow, nothing that will interfere with her homework or Mariah’s pop culture lessons, I promise.”

  “Ariel was and is in a unique position, because her mother helped her see through the lies and smokescreens. She feels responsible, but someone has to show her that there are boundaries. She is not an adult. She’s not the one who has to fix what the adults in her life messed up—and with her testimony, she already went above and beyond.”

  “I completely agree, Jordan,” Becca said patiently, and it occurred to Jordan that she might have crossed a line.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I am not. I’m happy that you feel protective of her, and that we can talk about these things. We want the same thing.”

  “Yes, we do. And contrary to what it might look like, I didn’t come here to question your choices. In fact, Ellie and I are going to get married next month, and we’d like you to come.”

  Up until a few weeks ago, they had been strangers. Why was this so easy, and so much more complicated when it came to her own birthparents?

  “That’s great, congratulations. We’d love to, and I’m sure Ariel will be excited.”

  At first, they had thought getting married would be helpful when trying to adopt Ariel, but now that it wasn’t going to happen, they had realized that this was what they wanted, still.

  “Good. You’ll keep us up to date on how it’s going with the book? There might be some legal ramifications as well.”

  “Yes, of course. We’ll make sure everything is taken care of. Ariel is safe with us.”

  “Thank you.”

  * * * *

  The next morning, Jordan didn’t have any more time to hover, as she sat across from Mrs. Kenning in her living room, telling her that she could claim her husband’s body now that the autopsy was done.

  “I am so sorry,” she said. “There was nothing to suggest any outside influence.”

  “No!” There were tears in her eyes, but she wiped her face angrily. “You weren’t listening to me. Those people had a hand in it.”

  Paranoia?

  “I know it’s a lot to deal with.”

  “First of all, you need to deal with the people who got him killed!”

  “I spoke to his employer. They said his work performance had suffered lately, and that there were other things on his mind.”

  She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You don’t have to be so polite about it. Andrews wants to blame the crazy wife? I figured. I’ll tell you the truth. I had some problems, years ago, and it was hard on our marriage. I found a therapist, got the right medication, and I’ve been doing much better since. It’s bullshit. None of this ever influenced his work performance.”

  “I can have my colleagues in another division look into the firm, but I’m really sorry. I agree that it’s wrong for them to talk about you and your husband like that, but unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about it. You could probably sue for libel.”

  “What if I show you evidence?”

  “Can you?”

  “No,” she said as the tears started falling faster. “Please. He was a good man. Don’t give up yet.”

  “If you can think of anything, call me,” Jordan said, wondering if she might regret that promise.

  * * * *

  “You have to admit it’s a strange coincidence,” Derek said when they were sitting in the
break room over a coffee, musing about the ending of the case.

  “I talked to the ME in Benton County. No evidence of foul play either. Sometimes, people want to end it.”

  “That some fatalistic talk for a woman about to get married.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m in a good place now. I wasn’t always, and I remember what it was like to have no hope…” Jordan held up a hand when she saw the alarm on her partner’s face. “That was a long time ago. All I’m saying is people don’t always see it, not even the ones close to you. The world closes in on you.”

  “Wow. I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything…but you might want to go a little easier on Bethany the next time you see her.”

  This wasn’t the time and place. Jordan wasn’t sure there would ever be a time and place to bring up this subject with him, but she’d known the moment would come when they first caught the Kenning case.

  “Like I said, it was a long time ago. I’m getting married. Life is pretty amazing.”

  “Yeah. And you don’t have to invite anyone you don’t want there.” Derek had caught on quickly.

  “Fortunately. I guess I’ll go finish my report now. That poor woman will be left with many questions—and I don’t think she has the means or the energy to sue Andrews for libel.”

  “It’s sad, but there’s nothing else we can do for her,” Derek reminded her.

  “That’s what I told her, and it felt pretty crappy. All right. Let’s get to work.”

  * * * *

  Even though Waters had agreed they should interview the park employees, Ellie couldn’t help thinking he wasn’t going to change his mind about Raynor. On the bright side, his barely concealed disinterest allowed her to take the lead.

  “Yeah, I’ve seen him before,” the young park employee said when Ellie showed her Marco Raynor’s picture. “He’s been around…A couple of times, I had to ask him to leave, but he was always nice about it. Not that it helped much. I didn’t know the woman who died.”

  “Willie Potter? Does that name ring a bell?”

  She shook her head when Ellie swiped to another photo on her cell. “No, I don’t think I’ve seen him before. The older ones usually stay under the radar, don’t get into fights like Mr. Raynor.”

  “He was picking fights?”

  Ellie could have sworn there was a smug tone to Waters’ voice. He overestimated how much she wanted to be right. She wanted to find Lea’s killer, and make sure they hadn’t made a mistake with Potter.

  “Not with me,” the woman said. “As I said, he was always polite to us, but he got into it with this dude a couple of times. Big guy, always going on about how the police don’t do enough to protect the neighborhood from crime—sorry.”

  “That’s all right. Go on.”

  “Anyway, he was carrying, and I was afraid the situation might escalate, but when I asked them both to leave, they did.”

  “You said it happened a couple of times? Was it that man?”

  “Oh yes, definitely. He wasn’t happy, called me a few names too.”

  “So it was him who started the fight?”

  The woman looked uncomfortable.

  “Look, I can’t be everywhere at every moment. I know this guy here came by every once in a while. He told Raynor to get a job. I mean…it doesn’t look good when they beg the tourists, but on the other hand, it’s not that easy.”

  “Did you ever hear Mr. Raynor threaten the other man?” Waters asked.

  “Not directly, but it got pretty heated between them.”

  “Okay. Thank you for your time,” he said and turned to leave the office. Ellie didn’t have much of a choice other than to follow him.

  “Stanton didn’t tell us the whole truth,” she said when they walked back to the car.

  “Neither did Raynor.”

  “Yes, but…Raynor had no reason to kill Lea. Or Potter. He’s clearly afraid. Stanton on the other hand…He has a history of violence, and he’s carrying.”

  “The woman wasn’t shot. Someone stabbed her and bashed her skull in.”

  Ellie winced at the graphic imagery. “Stanton does seem to have a problem with the homeless people in the park.”

  “To which he has a right. Harding, you’re prejudiced about this guy.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Ellie said instead of what was really on her mind—that a rap sheet was hardly a preconceived notion. She couldn’t ignore the fact that Lea had been stabbed, though, and in Potter’s case, they didn’t even have proof that he’d been murdered.

  She wondered if Waters would be livid if she saw Stanton one more time. It was probably fair to give him a heads up first.

  “I’d just like to confirm with Stanton what the employee said.”

  To her surprise, he simply shrugged. “Let’s see if we can cross that off the list right now.”

  They found Stanton taking a cigarette break outside the hardware store where he worked.

  “You bring good news, I assume,” he said, tossing the cigarette to the ground and putting it out with his shoe. “I hear that bum got arrested…Finally someone’s doing their job.”

  “About that…We hoped you could help us with something. The park employee said you and Mr. Raynor got into a fight more than once. Could you tell us what they were about?”

  He frowned at her, anger simmering so close to the surface she almost took a step backwards.

  “I’ll tell you what it was about all right!” He was in her personal space.

  “Easy, buddy,” Waters said in a warning tone. “You heard her. Just a few follow-up questions.”

  “You got your killer. What do you want from me?”

  “Some employees of the park office were concerned about those altercations,” Ellie said. “Did Mr. Raynor threaten you or anyone else?”

  “Their presence is threatening to families and tourists, and you’re just sitting on your asses.”

  “Hey. That’s enough!”

  Stanton wasn’t happy with Waters’ assessment, but he backed down.

  “I’m trying to protect our neighborhood, that’s all. Who knows, at some point they might not stop at killing one another. In any case, I’m glad you got him. That’s all I have to say.”

  “Thanks for helping us out here. Detective Harding?”

  Ellie followed Waters back to the car. Something was unfinished here, but she understood she had no more talking room.

  Earlier that day, she had asked Casey and Potts to look at shelters closest to the park and see if any threats had been made, but there was no news from them yet.

  “So what do we do now?” she asked.

  “Have lunch. Come on. They will get back to us as soon as they have something.”

  “Yeah.” Ellie sighed.

  “Remember, just because someone looks good as a subject, doesn’t mean he did it. Stanton had an alibi.”

  She was disconcerted for other reasons. Stanton might not be their guy, but there was no doubt he had threatened people in the past, including his ex-wife. He exuded an air of self-righteousness, mostly towards women. That, plus the fact that he was carrying a gun, worried her.

  What was even worse, if Stanton wasn’t the killer, and Raynor wasn’t either, they had to start over.

  Ellie’s mood improved slightly when they entered the diner across from the station to find Jordan and Derek had chosen it for their break as well. They were sitting at a table with Maria Doss. Derek waved them over, and Ellie pulled herself a chair, leaving the remaining seat in the booth to Waters.

  “Hey. You’re lucky, we just learned they changed the cook. The burgers are pretty good now.”

  “I’m not sure if I can get her to sit down for five minutes, but it’s worth a try,” Waters joked.

  For the time being, Ellie enjoyed being a part of this exclusive group, marveling at how much had changed in her life, and how quickly. This was where she’d wanted to be. She had earned her place at the table—and she’
d make sure she’d keep her promise to Marco Raynor.

  Ellie wasn’t surprised when she returned from the bathroom to find Jordan standing outside the door.

  “Hey. I know what you’re going to ask, but I’m fine. I’m sure it would be nicer to work with either of you, but it’s not so bad. You don’t have to worry.”

  “Actually, I wanted to ask you if you haven’t changed your mind about dinner at Kathryn’s.”

  “No, why would I? Why don’t we see how the evening goes, and decide about inviting her later? Jordan?”

  “Okay.” She looked apologetic. “I admit it’s not all about Kathryn. I saw Valerie earlier. She was quite frank about Waters’ antics.”

  “Yeah, small world, but I told you the truth. I’ll be fine. Lieutenant Carroll even agreed with me.” Ellie decided it was not necessary to share the content of her conversation with Waters that had followed. “I’m not a fan either, but Waters has closed a lot of cases. I respect that.”

  “All right. Thanks for putting up with me.”

  “It’s not that hard,” Ellie said and leaned forward to kiss her. “I have to go back to work now.”

  “Yeah, me too. I’ll see you later.”

  * * * *

  Jordan read over her report once more. It contained all the pieces. Nothing more to add. If she was still feeling restless, it didn’t have anything to do with this case, did it? Ellie was holding her own. Mrs. Kenning would work through her grief with the support of her family and friends, and…the nightmares would stop. They had before. This was the part of her subconscious having trouble believing that good times could last, and eventually, it would shut up and let her be. After she’d made a decision.

  For a moment, she let herself imagine what could happen if she invited Kathryn, maybe Jim. Jack and Pauline had no reason to doubt their place in Jordan’s life, and they wouldn’t should she decide to have her birthmother and her husband at the wedding.

  Jim, however, had been a rare presence in her childhood. Kathryn had been around more often, but it was hard to remember times when she wasn’t drunk or stoned. Apart from that one slap she remembered, they hadn’t been physically abusive, just…not available. They should understand that this day of all days was reserved for the people who had shown up for Jordan, and Ellie.