by Alisha Basso
Gerome could still hear the rattling of the walls when he thought about those words.
Only Gerome didn't have the same prejudice. And he didn't think much of not doing a proper job of things. More than that, someone might be getting away with something they shouldn't be.
He added the new sheet to Todd's file, and made a notation in his notebook to bring it up with the sheriff. The investigator said the airbags had deployed and deflated properly.
There'd been blood on the airbag. There'd been blood everywhere. As much as he wanted to get it tested for DNA, the county's budget didn't extend to supporting suppositions like this one. This wasn't a murder. This was an accident brought on by the victim himself. Supposedly.
Cassie had filled him on Todd's cell phone, explaining that one call she made was answered by an older woman, proving the cell phone hadn't been destroyed in the fire. So how had the woman gotten hold of it?
He turned the information over and over in his head, searching out and destroying different scenarios. It still came back to who answered Todd Spence's cell, and how had the cell phone come into their possession? And did any of it matter? Todd was still dead.
***
Todd sat in the deputy's spare chair and wondered how to tell him to keep looking. How to tell the deputy to believe in him. To believe that Todd hadn't been drinking and driving. The deputy appeared to be honest. He was Maggie's dad. Maggie was pretty cool, even though her dad was in law enforcement.
How did Maggie communicate with someone like that? Not that Todd could use the same methods. He tried to move a piece of paper that sat on the deputy's file. It wouldn't budge. He tried to blow on the paper. Nothing.
"Hello? Can you hear me?"
The deputy groaned.
Todd leaned forward in amazement. "Hello? Hello?"
The deputy shut the file and leaned back on his chair. "Drinking and driving huh? Stupid."
"What's stupid?"
"The sheriff's not happy. To ask for more man-hours to keep looking would just piss him off more. The case is closed, Gerome."
His mimic made Todd grin. He liked this guy. Now if only he'd keep working on Todd's case.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Cassie walked in the direction of the main street. Living in a small town meant not a lot went on, and there weren't many things to do or see – particularly after school, like now. On the other hand, it made it easier to go to places without her parents.
The only way she'd stop in and talk to this doctor was if no one was around. And that meant no one, including Todd. If he wanted her to check out this woman, then he wasn't allowed to listen in either.
The small door of the brick brownstone was surprisingly cozy looking, instead of intimidating and clinical as she'd expected. Cassie hesitated briefly. Opening the door, she stepped inside. She hoped the doctor was still there and available, although the sign on the door said the clinic would be closing any minute.
The waiting room had the appearance of a living room, not an office. Couches, coffee tables – even a television. Not a wealthy, cold interior or a sparsely furnished room like she'd expected. The front reception was empty. She leaned over, searching for a bell. There didn't appear to be one.
"Hello?"
She frowned, waited a long moment, not sure what to do. Could everyone have left for the day and forgotten to lock the door?
"Cassie. How nice to see you." Dr. Sanchez strolled into the reception room, a gentle smile on her face.
Glancing at the door behind her, Cassie wished she'd bolted when she had the chance. She didn't know what to say.
"Uh, thanks. I'm not exactly sure why I'm here, to be honest."
Dr. Sanchez walked to the office chair and sat down, smiling up at her.
"Well, I'm glad you came." She busied herself pulling out a schedule and searching for a pencil. "Did you want to talk today or make an appointment for another time?"
With a light groan, Cassie said, "It needs to be now or I may talk myself out of returning."
That startled a laugh out of Dr. Sanchez. Offering Cassie an understanding smile, she said, "By all means, let's talk now."
"Uhm?" Cassie hated this next question. "Do I have to pay you or something? I don't know how this works." Shoving her hands in her pocket, she stood uncertainly in place.
Laughing lightly, Dr. Sanchez stood, motioning to a side door. "Don't worry about that. I've set it up with your parents already. Come on through to my office."
Cassie halted. She looked around the small cozy-looking room. "Would you mind if we talked here instead?"
Dr. Sanchez raised one eyebrow… Cassie didn't think much surprised her anymore.
"Sure." Dr. Sanchez walked out to the reception room and waved her hand wide. "Pick a seat."
Cassie chose the armchair in the corner. She knew there'd be some kind of psychological reasoning behind her choice and Dr. Sanchez would have taken note of it. Still, she'd come this far, she might as well go on.
"How are you doing at school?"
That wasn't what she wanted to talk about, however any opening worked. "School's okay. While it's difficult sometimes, in many ways it's no different from before."
"Does that bother you? That it's no different now?"
"Well, my world has changed so much, why hasn't everyone else's?" Her words, laced with resentment, surprised Cassie. She hadn't realized she'd been holding them in.
"I can see how that might be difficult."
"That's not the real issue. Everyone thinks Todd got what he deserved. Many say good riddance and make comments about how they're happy he's not here anymore."
The doctor had been writing notes. At Cassie's words, she raised her head and studied Cassie's face. "That would be hard for anyone. I wouldn't like to hear things like that about my friends, either."
"And some of those people were his friends. Then Todd had levels of friends."
"Explain what you mean by that, please."
Cassie settled deeper into her chair. "Todd had friends to party with. Friends to play games with. Friends to hang around at school with. And then there was me, his best friend."
"Did you have a problem with those other friends? Did you want to be one of them?" The doctor opened the small notebook Cassie hadn't even noticed she carried.
Cassie grinned. "Oh no. You see, I was the one that mattered all the time. The others only mattered some of the time. Todd and I could talk. About anything, anytime."
"And you don't have the same relationship with anyone else now, correct?"
"Correct." Cassie stared down at her hands folded in her lap like a young schoolgirl. "Before Todd, I had Grams."
"Ahh." Dr. Sanchez pulled a pen out of her pocket and wrote down a couple of things. "Death has taken a lot from you."
"Everything," Cassie cried out softly. "Everyone I cared about has died."
"What about your mother?"
"No."
"No?" Dr. Sanchez shifted backwards slightly. "What does that mean, Cassie?"
A slight frown whispered across Cassie's face despite her best attempts to not let it. She didn't like discussing her mother. She didn't do it willing with her friends and found it more uncomfortable with this doctor.
Grabbing her courage, Cassie opened up the one corner of her life she'd worked hard to forget. "My mother cares about my father and herself. Only. There is no room in their relationship for me. Any more than there was room for Grams."
"You don't feel loved?" The good doctor tilted her head, frowning.
"Yes, they love me. As much as they are capable. The problem, I guess, is that I'm needy. I need more. Grams was the same as me in that she also needed more than my parents could give. When I lost Grams, I effectively lost everything." A harsh laugh escaped. "Sorry, I don't mean to be dramatic. It's just when Grams died, it was obvious my mother didn't care. I couldn't stand to be close to her anymore."
"And does that bother you?"
Cassie tilted her head back
to stare up at the ceiling. "I guess it must."
"Are your friends close to their moms?"
"Penny is super close. Her mom's the best. They can talk about anything. They have spa days, and shopping parties. Penny's dad is pretty cool, too. Cool in that he doesn't feel left out – or doesn't seem to," she added as an afterthought.
Dr. Sanchez grinned. "I'll have to remember that for when my daughter is older."
"Yeah, she'd probably enjoy that."
"So Penny gets to do special things with her mom and you don't do anything with yours?"
"Right."
"Hardly seems fair, does it?"
"My father would say something along the line of 'who said life was supposed to be fair?'" Cassie grinned at the sour look on Dr. Sanchez's face. "Something I'm sure you've heard before."
Dr. Sanchez smiled wryly. "Oh yes. Both my parents still like to remind me of that." Dr. Sanchez wrote down a few more things.
Watching her, Cassie wondered what could be so important.
"Have you ever spoken to your mother about how you feel?"
Cassie choked. "No. I find it hard to talk to her at all."
"Is that how you want the relationship to continue?"
Moving her feet up and down in front of her, Cassie stared at them moodily. "I don't know. If I could have a relationship like Penny has with her mom, maybe I'd change it. But it's too late now." Her breath puffed out of her mouth in a small burst. "So yeah, it might as well continue the way it is."
"And if it does, with Grams and Todd gone, you're going to be lonely. Lonely in a way you'll find quite difficult."
Pursing her lips, Cassie nodded. "True, but no matter what, my mother isn't going to replace Todd or my grandmother, so what choice do I have? Relationships like this are not formed overnight. I might turn more to Penny, or her mom even."
"Won't that cause trouble between Penny and you?"
She hadn't thought of that. "Possibly. I don't know. I'll have to see. Todd isn't replaceable, any more than Grams was."
A warm smile crossed the doctor's face. She pondered a moment, looking at Cassie, then put down her pencil and tilted her fingers under her chin.
"Why did you come here today?"
What to say? Cassie blinked several times, thinking. "I knew this scenario wouldn't end after walking out Saturday, and…"
"And," the doctor prompted.
Cassie sighed heavily. "It's what Grams and Todd would have wanted."
"Ahh." With one eyebrow raised, Dr. Sanchez, in a soft, so gentle voice, asked a much harder question, "Yes, but what does Cassie want?"
***
Jessie wandered throughout the house, lost.
"Are you alright, Jessie?" His mom had come up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Are you hungry?"
He groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. "No, Mom. Food won't fix everything."
"I know that. I'm sorry." She lifted her hand as if to touch him.
He stepped back. "I'm fine."
"No. You're not. I don't know what's wrong, but I'd like to." She chewed on her bottom lip. "Honey, I know this has been tough. I might be able to help, if you'd let me."
"I don't think there's anything anyone can do."
"Please don't say that." Her hand clenched on her blouse, and barely held her tears back. She looked for the world like a beaten puppy.
Jessie sighed. He didn't want to bring this up. Only he couldn't stand not knowing any longer. "Mom, why didn't you have anything to do with Todd?"
Her eyebrows raised in surprise. She sniffled once. "Well, I did. At least I tried to, but I'd left it too long. He was too hurt and didn't want anything to do with me."
"Why would you split us up the way you did? One child – one parent?"
His mother crossed her arms over her chest, gazing blindly out the window. "At the time, it seemed to be the best way to handle things. I was closer to you and Todd had become a handful. I thought he needed a stronger hand than I could give."
That made sense. Kind of. "Why not just move both of us back and forth between the two homes like everyone else did?"
"There was supposed to more interaction. Sundays together, Mom days and Dad days, only the divorce was so bitter. The arguing so bad, those special times days didn't happen."
"Ya think?"
"I'm sorry for my part in not keeping us together. At the time I was hurting, too. It was easier to leave everything alone. By the time I realized how distant everyone had become, it was too late to change."
Jessie listened, trying to understand, knowing that there was no way he could do what they'd done. He'd want to love both sons equally. Wouldn't everyone? Instead, when Todd had become a problem, along with Dad's increased drinking and violent behavior, his mom had been so relieved to put some distance between them, she'd smothered the child she had left and abandoned the other.
She'd been scared, misguided and wrong.
And his father's excuse? Who knew? It's not like anyone could talk to him anymore. He was committing suicide the hard way. "Was he always a drunk?"
"No," she whispered. "Not like this. Not until after the divorce." She turned to face him. "That was another reason to avoid working to keep the family close. He'd started drinking heavily. We couldn't count on him being sober when we visited or what he'd say while we were there."
"And yet you left Todd with him?"
"By that time Todd hated me and it was already too late. He refused to move back and I couldn't get your dad to quit drinking." She sniffled slightly. "I should have tried harder to get closer to him. But I didn't and now it's too late."
Jessie sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring back all those bad memories."
A hiccup of a laugh sounded. "Since Todd's death, I've thought of nothing else. Hated myself for letting him go. For not trying harder be a family. Wondering what I could have done differently?" Another laugh escaped, a broken sound of a woman on the edge.
Jessie looked closely at his mom. She'd aged this last week, become fragile. He sensed she was close to a breakdown. He slid an arm around her thin shoulders and tugged her into his arms for a hug. He rested his head on the crown of her head.
"I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to hurt you by bringing up painful topics."
"No, my dear Jessie. You didn't hurt me. I've hurt myself. And your father and Todd. For that I'm very sorry."
"Shhh." Jessie hugged her close. "It's going to be okay."
To his dismay, his mom burst into tears. Giving her slight frame a gentle squeeze, he let her cry for a moment, patting her back. "It's okay, Mom. Please stop."
She pulled away slightly, tears still running down her cheeks. She sniffled several times. "Oh Jessie, how can you say it's going to be okay. Todd is dead. It won't ever be okay again."
"I'm sorry," he said helplessly. "I'm not trying to make light of this, only to tell you it's not your fault."
"I wish I could believe that." She sniffled again, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
Jessie reverted to a technique he'd learned years ago to distract his mother. "Mom, I don't suppose there's anything to eat in the house, is there?"
"What? Oh, are you hungry?" The tears dried up as she looked at him hopefully. "Of course there's something to eat. Let me go see what I can rustle up." With a warming smile, she wiped at her eyes again, and hurried across the room, her back straight and shoulders strong. A changed woman.
Jessie grinned. "A cup of tea would be good, too. Maybe a piece of cake or cookie for dessert?"
She stopped at the doorway and pivoted, brightness lighting up her face. "Oh yes. What a good idea. Give me a few minutes and I'll have something ready." She bustled off, happy.
For her, he would eat whatever she prepared, knowing that preparing the meal for him, helped her.
Now what was the best thing for him? He considered what Cassie was trying to do and why. He had as many reasons, if not more, to find out the truth. Not only had his family lost Todd, but his
mother had allowed guilt over what she believed Todd had become to consume her. Even his dad no longer knew what bottle he drank from or why.
He needed to find the answers to the cause of Todd's death for his family's sake. Maybe then, after some time, they could heal and start again.
***
Cassie whipped through her Facebook stuff, laughing at several of her friends' comments. With the funeral over, the weekend recuperating, followed by the talk with Dr. Sanchez, Cassie actually felt like a heavy weight had fallen off her shoulders. She didn't know what had been the magical cure or if time had been the catalyst, yet she felt more at peace with Todd's death.
Not so much at the concept of him being something like the living dead though. She wanted to believe in reincarnation or heaven or some other happy answer, only it wasn't working out that way.
She'd spent her lunch hour in the school library trying to research life after death. She'd found many different accounts and didn't know what to believe. The librarian had come up behind her, and Cassie had fobbed her questions off by saying she was doing research for a school project. Everyone seemed to keep a wary eye on Cassie these days.
There was one thing she still needed to do and that was to give her condolences to Todd's father – and ask him some questions. She should have said something to him at the funeral. But he'd looked so odd, so unapproachable, she hadn't wanted to bring on more pain. Her parents had spoken to him since and she knew Jessie would have, somewhere along the line. That she hadn't, nudged her conscience. Todd's father had been in her life for years, albeit on the outer edges, and at times he'd been decent. Now, if the man was computer literate, she'd be more than happy just to send him an e-card or an email. Todd's house was only ten minutes away.
She chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. Fine, ten minutes there and ten minutes back.
***
Deputy Magnusson drove up the long twisting driveway to Martha and Peter's house. He'd known the couple since he was in school. They were different folks. Not for everyone, with Martha being a bit touched in the head. Peter was a good sort. Solid. Not that the young folks of today knew what that meant.
