by Reid, Terri
She shook her head. “No, he doesn’t,” she argued, her stomach tightening as she argued. “He just wanted a mother for me, so he married her. Just like in Cinderella.”
Maggie stopped her swing and turned to Clarissa. “No, he wanted to marry her even before he knew about you.”
“Well, now he loves me better,” she said angrily. “And since I’m just a little girl and she’s a grown up, he needs to take care of me, not her.”
“Why can’t he take care of both of you?”
Clarissa stopped her swung, jumped out of it and faced her friend. “Don’t you get it?” she asked. “If they get divorced, then Bradley will need me. He won’t have any other children. He won’t have a wife. It will just be me and my dad.”
“That’s never going to work,” Maggie said.
“Sure it will,” Clarissa argued. “Last night I made him stay in my room and read to me until he fell asleep in the chair. He left Mary sitting downstairs waiting for him. She was going to make a special dinner and everything and instead, he was with me.”
“So, that’s only one time.”
“And then, this morning, I waited outside their door until I heard them talking,” she said. “Then I went back to my room and screamed for him, like I was having a bad dream. He came running in right away and I made him stay with me until it was time to get ready to go to school.”
“That was mean,” Maggie said. “Mary’s not being mean to you, but you’re being mean to her.”
Clarissa folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. “I’m not being mean,” she said. “I’m working out a plan. My plan.”
Maggie slipped from the swing and walked over to her friend. “I think it’s a bad plan. I think it’s a mean plan. Mary helped find you, Mary helped your mother. The bad man would have you if Mary hadn’t done everything she did,” Maggie yelled.
“I don’t believe you,” Clarissa said.
“You know I’m right,” Maggie insisted. “You know Mary is trying hard to be a good mother.”
Clarissa pressed her lips close together and shook her head. “You don’t understand,” she finally said.
“Understand what?”
“If Mary and Bradley stay married, then they have each other,” she explained. “They don’t need me.”
“Course they don’t need you,” Maggie said. “They want you.”
“No,” Clarissa replied, tears filling her eyes. “Maybe your family wants you. But only my ’doptive parents wanted me. I’m just an obligation.”
“No, Clarissa, you have it all wrong,” Maggie said, “Mary and Bradley want you.”
“Until they have kids of their own,” she argued. “Then they won’t need me anymore. So, I’m not going to let that happen.”
She started to turn, but Maggie stopped her by putting a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t help you hurt Mary. She’s my friend.”
“That’s fine,” Clarissa snapped back. “I’ll just do it on my own.”
Chapter Thirty
A light tap on her office door had Mary glancing up from her computer screen and looking over to see Celia entering the room. “Hi,” Mary said with a hesitant smile. “How are you doing?”
Celia sat down across from Mary and took a deep breath. “I had a pretty bad night,” she confessed. “But I finally realized that it was far better to know than it was to only guess.”
Mary sat back and looked at her new friend. Her face was still pale and there were dark shadows beneath her eyes. Although she was bravely trying to smile, Mary could see the tremor on her lips and the tight grasp she had on the handle of her briefcase. She was definitely a woman close to the edge.
“You know, you don’t have to be brave,” Mary finally said. “There is nothing wrong with showing your emotions. As a matter of fact, it’s healthier to let them out.”
Shaking her head, Celia gripped her briefcase tighter. “I’m afraid,” she said softly. “I’m afraid that if I start to cry, I will never be able to stop.”
“I really do understand that feeling,” Mary said, as an idea came to her.
Glancing at her watch, she stood up and smiled at Celia. “Bradley and I didn’t have a chance to talk about the case last night, so we have a meeting scheduled here in about an hour. But, in the meantime, I have an idea that might help you feel better. Let’s go visit an old friend of mine.”
After locking up the office, Mary guided Celia down the street and around the block to an old abandoned building on Spring Street. The building was a large brownstone with a heavy front door made of glass.
“Where are we?” Celia asked. “It looks like it’s closed down.”
Mary smiled. “Well, normally it is,” she said. “But I have a feeling that my good friend Ernie will open up for us.”
She walked to the entrance, wiping away the dirt on the window.
Celia followed close behind her and peered over her shoulder to read the faded white letters on the door: Ernie’s Gymnasium and Pugilism Training.
“Can I just ask what we’re doing?”
Mary looked over her shoulder to Celia. “We’re going the distance.”
Turning back to the door, Mary knocked lightly. “Hey Ernie, I have a friend who could use a round or two,” she said.
“Really, Mary, I don’t think we should be drinking this early in the morning,” Celia inserted.
Mary listened for the lock on the other side to click and pushed the door open before she looked over her shoulder. “The only thing we’ll be drinking in here is water,” she said, entering the dark building.
Celia followed closely behind her. “I’m beginning to agree with some of those not-so-nice comments about you on the Internet,” she said quietly, as she peered into the darkness.
“No, you don’t,” Mary replied confidently. “Because if you really thought I was nuts, you’d be really nice to me. And that last comment was nearly rude.”
In spite of herself, Celia smiled as she held on to the back of Mary’s coat.
Reaching inside her pocket, Mary pulled out a small flashlight. The scent of dried wood, aging leather and dust was as strong as it had been the first time she’s been there. Dust motes floated all around her, highlighted in the beams of morning light that slipped through the planking on the tall side windows. But this time, she knew where she was going. Walking over to a large gray box in another corner of the room, Mary wiped the spider webs off the front and pulled the metal switch down. The fluorescent bulbs in the hanging ceiling fixtures slowly fluttered to life. They started at the far end of the room and slowly each area of the gym was filled with light.
“Hey, sister, how’ve you been?” Ernie asked, appearing in the middle of the boxing ring situated in the middle of the room. “And who’s the doll you’ve get with you?”
Mary grinned as the ghost materialized before her. She hadn’t seen him since Linda’s wedding, but she had hoped he was still around. His greying hair was still styled in a crew cut and the face below was wide, with a strong and stubborn jaw. His nose looked like it had been broken a number of times and his broad grin advertised the wide gap between his upper teeth. She winked slyly at him, not letting Celia know there was someone else in the room with them.
“Celia, my friend Ernie owns this place,” Mary explained. “He helped me through the tough times by training me. I thought it might do you some good to punch something, really hard.”
“You ain’t gonna tell her I’m here,” Ernie teased. “Are you?”
“Not yet,” Mary whispered.
“What did you say?” Celia asked.
“I said, not yet,” she repeated. “You can’t punch anything until you put the gloves on.”
She led Celia to a corner of the room where a large, brown, leather punching bag hung from a beam. Next to it, a series of smaller bags were suspended at head level. The leather was old and worn, but the bag was still intact. Celia ran a hand over it. “Will it hold up to a good punch?” she asked.
Erni
e laughed. “Tell her to give it all she’s got.”
Mary picked up a pair of old boxing gloves and handed them to Celia. “Give it all you’ve got,” she repeated.
Slipping the gloves on, Celia hesitantly punched the bag.
“She throws a punch like a girl,” Ernie complained. “Show her how to do it right.”
Mary picked up a pair of gloves for herself and stood next to Celia. “Okay, let me show you the right way to throw a punch,” she said. “And then I’m going to stand back and let you give it hell.”
Nearly an hour later, the bag still gently swaying in the air, Celia stepped back, pushed her hair back in place with her gloved hands and turned back to Mary. “I do feel much better,” she panted.
“She’s got some potential,” Ernie added, walking around her slowly. “She’s got looks and she’s tough. She ought to consider roller-derby.”
Biting back a snort, Mary helped Celia unlace her gloves. “Just let me know if you want to come back,” she said. “I have a feeling Ernie wouldn’t mind in the least.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Mary and Celia arrived back at the office just as Bradley was pulling his cruiser into the parking spot out front next to the Roadster. “Field trip?” he asked, as he met them at the door.
“I introduced Celia to Ernie’s place,” Mary explained. “It was…therapeutic.”
Raising an eyebrow, Bradley leaned over and whispered into Mary’s ear. “Did she meet Ernie?”
Laughing, Mary shook her head. “No,” she said in a normal voice. “Ernie and Celia didn’t get the chance to meet.”
“No, although, from what Mary told me about him, he seems like a very nice man,” Celia said. “I’d like to meet him someday.”
“He’s a great guy,” Bradley agreed. “And he taught Mary a couple things about throwing a punch.”
“That’s what she said,” Celia said. “Although I don’t understand what she meant about being the hit of a wedding.”
Chuckling, Bradley smiled down at his wife. “Someday, when you’ve gotten to know each other a little better, I’m sure she’ll tell you the whole story,” he explained.
“Yes,” Mary agreed, “later, when you won’t think I’m crazy.”
Smiling sadly, Celia placed her hand on Mary’s arm. “After our experience yesterday afternoon, I promise, I won’t ever think you’re crazy.”
“Thank you,” Mary said. “I really appreciate that.”
Nodding, Celia stepped back. “Well, I’m going to get out of your way so you can meet,” she said. “If you need anything, please call me.”
“I will,” Mary said, “Thanks again.”
Bradley opened the door for Mary and they both entered the office.
“She’s a very nice lady,” Bradley said.
“Yes, she is,” Mary agreed. “And I’m sure she was a wonderful mother. It’s not fair.”
Following her over to her desk, he sat down across from her. “You’re right, it’s not,” he agreed. “And all we can do at this point is try and bring her some closure.”
Bradley watched the determination form on Mary’s face as she pulled her notepad across her desk. “You’re absolutely right,” she said. “So, what do you have?”
After sharing the highlights of the meeting, Bradley gave her copies of all the reports he had. “So, now you know what I know,” he said.
“No one stands out?” she asked. “No gut feelings?”
“Well, the superintendent is a jerk,” he said. “But that doesn’t make him a murderer.”
“It doesn’t make him not a murderer either,” Mary added.
“So, what did you learn from Courtney?” he asked.
Sitting back in her chair, she paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “I saw her walking away from the softball diamond, waving at friends,” she said.
“So, it happened right after practice, when there were still people in the park,” Bradley said.
Mary nodded. “Her hair and face began to show signs of rain,” she explained, “And then she started jogging down the road toward the bridge that leads to Demeter Avenue.”
“She lived off of Demeter,” he said. “So she was on her way home.”
“She was on the bridge and then stepped up to the curb,” Mary said.
“A car was coming,” he surmised.
“Yes, I think that’s what happened,” she agreed. “Then she stopped walking and spoke with someone. At first she shook her head and then she laughed. She stepped off the curb, walked to the other side of the bridge and disappeared.”
“She got into a car with someone,” he said. “Someone she knew.”
“Yes, her actions didn’t show any fear or reservation,” she said. “He probably offered her a ride home in the rain.”
Bradley pulled Courtney’s police report out of the file. “Her parents reported her missing at about seven o’clock that night,” he said. “Softball practice ended at five and the storm began at about five fifteen.”
“So, there was nearly two hours of time for the perp to take her somewhere,” Mary said.
“That’s what the initial theory was,” Bradley said. “Someone from out of town had taken her and by the time she was reported, they could have been in Chicago. No one saw anything.”
“Well, everyone was hurrying home to get out of the rain,” Mary said. “It was a perfect opportunity.”
Nodding, Bradley stared at the report again. “So, if we presume that Courtney is another victim of the same person who kidnapped the rest of the girls,” he said slowly. “We need to not only determine the points that are the same about all these crimes, but also what’s different.”
Opening her own file, she nodded and jotted down some notes. “Okay, same, she is a young girl that attends Freeport schools.”
“Different – she did not have a history of skipping school,” Bradley said.
“Different – it didn’t happen during the school day,” she added.
Bradley stopped scanning the report and looked up at Mary. “Okay, that’s a big different,” he said. “Because if our perp had a system of trolling the streets looking for kids who had skipped school, why would he be at the park at the end of the day?”
“You’re right,” Mary agreed, eagerly shaking her head. “The park has too many people and too many adults for him to feel as safe as he felt driving down empty residential streets during the school day.”
“So, if he wasn’t going through the park to find his next victim…” Bradley started.
“He was on his way home,” Mary continued. “He was trying to beat the rain, so he took a shortcut through the park on his way home.”
“And Courtney just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time,” he said.
“This was a crime of opportunity,” Mary agreed. “But now we are two steps closer to finding him because we know Courtney knew him and we know he lived near the park.”
Chapter Thirty-two
The afternoon was dragging, as Friday afternoons generally do. But this was worse. Mary felt stuck at her office. She didn’t want to go home, didn’t want to be waiting at the house when Clarissa got home. Didn’t want to have to deal with all of the drama and confusion. She just felt overwhelmed, tired and emotional.
She reached over to the box of cookies she had purchased at lunch and was surprised to find that all of them were gone. I just ate a dozen double chocolate macadamia nut cookies, she scolded herself. I disgust myself.
Sighing, she pulled Courtney’s file in front of her again, trying to see if there was anything she’d missed. The words swam in front of her eyes. What is wrong with me?
The ringing phone postponed the answer to that question as Mary eagerly answered it. “Mary O’Reilly Alden,” she said.
“Hey, sweetheart, how are you doing?” Bradley asked.
Oh, I’m great, she replied silently. I’m trying to double my clothing size in a week.
“I’m good,” she
actually said out loud. “I’ve just been going over the reports again.”
“Good, so you’re busy?” he asked.
“Yes, really busy,” she lied.
“So you wouldn’t mind if I picked up Clarissa at school?”
A broad grin spread across her face. “No. No, I don’t mind at all,” she said. “And, you know, maybe you need a daddy-daughter date. She really seems to be missing you.”
“I guess I could take her out for ice cream,” he pondered.
“And a movie,” Mary interjected. “You could go out to a movie. Unless, of course, you have to work.”
“No, I’ve actually got to run over to her school and meet with the principal before the end of the day,” he said. “But then I’ve done all I can do. I have my officers still working on the case, but I decided I needed to spend some time with my family.”
“Oh, well, wonderful,” Mary said. “You and Clarissa make an evening of it.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
“I am positive,” she said. “I’ll go home and maybe take a bath and do my nails. Just have a little me time.”
“You deserve a little me time,” Bradley said. “And then, once Clarissa and I get home and she goes to bed, we can have a little us time.”
Mary grinned. “I love us time,” she said, her voice softening into a seductive whisper. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
“I’ll be sure it’s a short movie,” he replied.
She laughed. “Take your time,” she said. “Anticipation always makes things better.”
Chapter Thirty-three
Bradley had to wipe the silly smirk off his face before he left his office. He knew he was stupid-in-love, but he didn’t need to let all of his staff know it too. “Dorothy, I’m heading over to Lincoln Douglas School,” he said. “After that I have a very important daddy-daughter date. But, if you need me…”
“Chief, I think Freeport can let you have one night off,” she said. “Besides, don’t you have a new wife at home?”
