by Willow Rose
“That’s not true. I’ve seen him in his classes. You should read the papers he writes,” Daniel continues.
“That he writes? Are you even listening to yourself?” his brother says. “Peter has CP. He can’t control his body. How is he supposed to write a paper?”
“Daniel. We no longer believe that he is writing them,” his sister takes over.
“What?”
“We believe she might be assisting him a little too much,” she continues, glancing at the other siblings, looking for backup. They’re all nodding.
Daniel can’t believe them. Yes, he knows it has all gone a little too far, and maybe the woman is taking over a little too much of Peter’s life, but he still believes that Peter is communicating, that what he writes on that keyboard comes from him.
“The latest development is that she has told me Peter wants to move out. Apparently, he wants to move into an apartment on his own,” their mother says. “There is no way he can do that. I refuse to let it happen.”
Chapter Fifty
January 2016
We search the area around the Spanish House all afternoon, but with no luck. Marcia is nowhere to be found. Not on the beach, not in the park across the street, not in the inlet or around the pier. We talk to all the surfers and fishermen that we meet, but no one has seen her.
By nightfall, we are ready to give up.
“She could be anywhere,” Chloe says, as we walk back towards the car. “There is no way we can find her once it gets dark.”
The sun is setting over the land on the horizon and paints the sky pink. It is gorgeous. I stare at it for a little while, wondering if Marcia is all right. I keep seeing her face and those frightened eyes that I had seen earlier. I am afraid for her. Afraid of what she might do in her state of desperation. I know she is carrying a gun. I worry a police patrol will find her. That will never end well. She’ll refuse to even talk to them, and then pull the gun. I just know she will.
“We can’t give up,” I say. “The police are looking for her for shooting Mark. If they find her before we do, there is no saying what will happen to her. I don’t think she’ll survive it.”
Jess puts a hand on my shoulder. “Not everything in this world is your responsibility, Mary. Yes, Marcia is sick and a possible danger to both herself and others, but you can’t help her if she doesn’t want you to.”
I look at her and think that it’s a load of crap, probably the kind that psychologists tell themselves all the time, but this is not my patient we’re talking about. This is my friend. I don’t say anything, though. I am exhausted. And starving.
We get back in the car and drive home in silence. I can’t believe we couldn’t find Marcia. How hard can it be to find one person? I keep wondering where she could have gone to after she left me on the beach. She ran through the bushes, but where to? Where could she go? The sky is dark out now, and I have heard on the radio that a front is pushing through tonight. It is expected to cause heavy thunderstorms. The National Weather Service has issued a severe thunderstorm warning for our county from tonight until the morning, and there’s a tornado watch. It’s not as bad as a tornado warning, but still. It’s not a night to be outdoors.
Will Marcia be able to find shelter?
I drop off Jess at the parking lot in front of her condominium in Cocoa Beach, and thank her for her help. “Anytime,” she says with a smile and closes the door.
“You wanna grab a bite to eat?” I ask Chloe as we drive off.
“I can’t. Gotta take care of my mom. I’ve been away almost all day. Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” I say, and drive up in front of her old house on 7th Street. “By the way, did you get anything out of that tip from Arizona?” I ask, as she is about to leave the car. She nods. “It started to sound plausible. I checked with the newspapers and the police department. There’s a couple up there that robbed a small liquor store recently, and they match the description. Could be them.”
“Let me know if you find out more,” I say with a yawn. I am so tired I can hardly see anything.
“Sure thing.”
She slams the door to the car shut, and I drive off towards Joey’s house. As I approach it, I am filled with an overwhelming sadness. I park outside in the driveway as it starts to rain. There is light coming from inside the house and I can see Joey in there walking into the kitchen. I am guessing he and Salter are watching a movie. I hope they have brought my dad into the living room with them. He needs the company. I sigh as I spot Salter and my dad in the living room. They seem engaged in some deep talk. Now they’re laughing. They seem happy. Joey is joining them, holding a bowl of popcorn. I feel my eyes water. This is my family and I don’t want to go in. I don’t want to have to face Joey. I don’t want to argue and ruin the atmosphere. They seem to be doing so well without me.
Instead, I take off.
Chapter Fifty-One
January 2016
Knowing I won’t be able to rest or even stay still till I am sure I have been everywhere, I decide to drive around for a little, checking Marcia’s usual places in Cocoa Beach. I go to the Sportsbar, the Beach Shack, and Coconuts on the Beach, even Sandbar. I check all the local places she might be, but no one has seen her for days. I walk the beach with my flashlight and look through the dunes. I talk to every drunk and homeless person I can find, but no one has seen her since Saturday.
Frustrated, I drive back. When I pass Marcia’s place, I hit the brakes. The Seaview Suites is a row of small townhouses by 8th Street, across the street from the beach. It’s a place where my parents never wanted me to go as a child. The rent is the cheapest on the beach, and therefore it attracts a lot of scum. There is almost always loud music coming from one of the houses and the sound of people partying.
There’s light coming from Marcia’s windows.
I park in front of her door and walk up. Someone is fighting loudly behind an open window somewhere. A dog is barking aggressively. I knock.
Harry smiles when he opens the door. “Mary?”
“She’s not come home by any chance, has she?” I ask, thinking it’s a long shot, but if she is as sick as I suspect her to be, she might as well be here as anywhere else.
He shakes his head. “I am sorry, no.”
“I didn’t think so. Just had to check,” I say, and start to walk away.
“Wait. Don’t you want to come in?”
“No. No, I couldn’t.”
“Please?” he asks. His eyes are pleading with me. “It’s way too quiet in here without the kids.”
I chuckle. “Don’t tell me you miss them?”
He shrugs. “Guess I got used to the craziness around here, huh?” He looks at me. Our eyes lock. He is so handsome it almost hurts. I have to admit, I am tempted. I really want to go in. I want to be in his company.
“I just made a batch of chili. Do you want some? I have more than enough. I’ve gotten used to cooking for a lot of people, so I think I made way too much. You look like you could use a meal.”
Really? Have you seen the extra chin I am growing?
I laugh. He is sweet. “Well, I am starving, and I have to say it smells heavenly.”
He smiles again. “Come on in, then.”
He rushes to the kitchen and finds a bowl for me. I sit at the table and let him serve me. I can sense that he is trying his best to make it good for me and it makes me laugh. I look at the huge pot of chili he has made.
“That is a lot of food,” I say, as he pours some in my bowl.
“I know. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along. I really don’t like eating alone. Guess coming from a big family damaged me somehow.”
“You come from a big family?” I ask, and taste the food. The chili is amazing. I feel the hunger now biting at me.
“Yes. Lots of brothers and sisters.”
“Sounds nice,” I say, and think about my own family. I shudder when thinking about my younger brother and who he turned out to b
e.
Talk about a dysfunctional family.
“And you?” Harry asks.
“I, well, it’s a long story. I only have one brother, but I don’t know him very well. He’s a lot younger than me. As it turns out, I don’t know him at all. I only really have my dad left, and he is paralyzed. That’s a long story too. But back to you. Did you grow up around here?”
“Palm Beach Gardens.”
“Ah, the rich area.”
“It has its poor side too,” he says.
“Of course. Is that where you’re from? You don’t look like the poor boy from the wrong side of the tracks.”
“Guilty as charged. I guess you could say I was one of the rich kids. Seconds?”
I nod eagerly. I look around the room while he serves me another portion. I have never seen Marcia’s house so neat, so tidy. Not that I have been there much since she moved in.
“So, what is a guy like you doing in a place like this?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Trying something new.”
“Yeah, but come on. Why rent a room in this cheap place if you’re rich? Why move to Cocoa Beach? Why is a guy like you not married with a bunch of children with your gorgeous athletic wife?”
He stares at me intensely. It makes me uncomfortable, but also warm inside. “Don’t you just like to stick your nose in everything, huh?”
“Sorry.”
His face eases up. “No, it’s okay. I can’t blame you for wondering; I just don’t like to talk much about myself.”
“Lots of baggage, huh?” I ask.
“You could say that.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
January 2016
“So, what are your plans for your stay here in Cocoa Beach? How long are you planning on staying?” I ask, after a couple of minutes of silence. I am still eating. I can’t stop. It’s just that good.
“I don’t really know yet,” Harry says. He stopped eating long ago, and now it’s just me. He is leaning in over the table, looking at me with a wide smile. “You really like it, don’t you?”
I finish chewing and swallow. “I do,” I say. I get embarrassed. I have eaten three portions now, and still I could eat more. “I am sorry.”
“No. No. By all means. I like to watch you eat. It’s so refreshing. So many women are scared of eating. I like it when they’re alive, you know? When they don’t hold back. I mean, if they’re willing to indulge in a wonderful meal, what else would they be willing to indulge in, right? Women who don’t hold back are often the most passionate.”
I blush. Seriously blush at his words. “Then you won’t mind if I take a little more?”
“Not at all,” he says.
I scoop up another portion and eat it while he stares at me. I can’t help laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“You are. You’re just staring at me. It’s kind of creepy,” I say.
“I can’t help myself. I enjoy watching you.”
I finish my plate and push it to the center of the table. It’s a habit I have always had. I don’t know where it comes from. I like sitting here with Harry. He makes me feel good about myself. Joey is always on my case, teasing me about how much I eat. Here’s a man who actually enjoys it. But, at the same time, I can’t quite figure this guy out. Everything about him is a little strange. Why isn’t he married? Why is he living here with Marcia? I haven’t even been able to get out of him what he does for a living. It annoys me that he keeps avoiding my questions, but at the same time, I like him to stay a little mysterious. It’s kind of sexy. It’s been a long time since I have felt like this.
With Joey, it’s different. We have known each other all of our lives, so there was never any mystery. There was no excitement or tickling sensation in my stomach, because—well, it was Joey. I loved him. I still love him, but I am starting to wonder if there needs to be more in a relationship, in a marriage? Were we just good friends who were married?
“You have to excuse me,” Harry says, and leaves the table. He walks up the stairs to the restroom. I hear him lock the door. I sit at the table for a little while, but it’s hard for me to stay still. I want to find out more about this guy so badly. Leaned up against the wall, I see a briefcase. I am guessing it’s his and walk to it. I open it and look at the content. It’s all news clippings. Pictures and articles. I pick it up and look at it.
What is this? It’s all about that woman who was killed, the one they pulled out of the river!
So, Marcia was right when she told me he had pictures of her in his room? She told me she had seen them.
I pick up one of the photographs. I can see it’s the same woman from the pictures in the newspaper, but in this picture, she is younger. Way younger. It looks like a school picture.
Why does he have this?
I look at one of the articles and notice that he has highlighted some of the names of witnesses that the police have talked to in the case. Why has he highlighted their names? The name of the woman was Shannon Ferguson. She was a third-grade teacher at Roosevelt Elementary School. I had no idea that she was one of the teachers at Salter’s school.
I hear the door open, and hurry up and close the briefcase before Harry gets down the stairs. “So, do you think you’ll have room for dessert?” he asks, smiling. My eyes glance quickly at the briefcase, while I wonder if I placed it the right way so he won’t see I have opened it. Harry notices my glance and looks at the briefcase as well, then back at me.
“I have ice cream.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
January 2016
I eat the ice cream silently, wondering who this guy really is sitting across from me. Why is he so into the murder of this woman?
“You’re so quiet all of a sudden?” he asks.
“Just enjoying the ice cream,” I say. “And I’m really tired now. Been quite a long day.”
Harry sighs and leans back in his chair. “I know what you mean. I’m beat too. What a night and day. I worry so much about Marcia. And the kids. They didn’t seem very excited by seeing their dad today. I got the feeling it’s not the best for them to live with him. Maybe you know more about that than me?”
I look into Harry’s eyes. Scrutinizing them. I sense such an affection for the children in him. Children he hasn’t known for very long. I have no idea how to read this guy. Is it real? Is he just acting?
“I never met Carl, but I know he used to beat them. That’s why she moved away and took the kids with her. That’s what she told me. But, then again, I don’t know any more what is real and what she has been making up. I keep wondering if I know her at all. It’s a little scary. I kind of went through the same thing with my younger brother. You think you know someone and then…well…” I shrug and finish my ice cream. “I don’t know if you know what I mean.”
Harry grabs my hand across the table. The gesture startles me. His hands are big and warm. Mine almost disappears inside of his.
“I know exactly what you mean.”
Looking into his eyes, I get the feeling he does understand. His thumb is rubbing my hand. I begin to feel like I am cheating on Joey, even though we haven’t done anything.
You’re done with Joey, remember? It’s okay. If he can do it, then you can too.
I pull my hand out of his grip. “I should go.”
He looks disappointed. Then he smiles. “Of course. It’s getting late.”
“My son is waiting for me.”
I get up and walk to the door. I hear him behind me, and seconds later, I feel his hand on my shoulder. It’s heavy and warm. I turn and look directly into his face. He grabs me and pulls me close. His breath is on my face. Our lips are close.
“Why do I get the feeling you want this just as much as I do?” he whispers.
I close my eyes and enjoy his closeness. “Because I do.”
“I thought you were taken. Marcia told me…”
“Shut up,” I say, and place my lips on his.
He grabs my face between his ha
nds while we kiss. I am so close to him I can feel his heartbeat. I look into his eyes as our lips depart from one another. He is moaning. “I want this too,” he whispers. “I have wanted it since the first day I saw you. You’re so beautiful, Mary.”
Beautiful? Me?
He looks into my eyes. He is still holding my face between his hands, lifting it slightly to better study me. His eyes are staring into mine, devouring me.
“Your eyes are so…so deep and full of life,” he says.
I look down and pull his hands away. “I…I hardly know you,” I say.
He is shaking his head. “No. It doesn’t matter, Mary.”
I take a step backwards. I shake my head. “I should go.”
“Please, don’t go. Please stay.”
I stare at his beautiful face. I can’t believe I am about to walk away from this, but it’s too early for me. I am not ready. I reach the door and I can feel the handle behind my back. I stare at him, then storm towards him again and kiss him one last time before I run out of the house.
Chapter Fifty-Four
January 2016
When Marcia wakes up, it’s cold. She can hear loud noises. It sounds like thunder. It’s raining heavily. She can hear it and starts to wonder where she is. She sits up in the complete darkness. She’s lying on the floor, but it doesn’t feel like she is inside. The wind is howling and blowing through something, it sounds like a door. Lightning strikes outside and lights up everything. She sees two cars next to her.
She is in a garage.
But whose garage is it and how did I get here?
Marcia tries to remember what happened the day before. All she can recall is going to Beef O’ Brady’s with the kids.
“Kids eat free on Tuesdays,” she mumbles to herself, as she finds her way to the window and looks outside.
She must have found shelter here last night from the storm, but how did she get in? She doesn’t remember. She looks outside at the storm raging. Puddles of water have gathered in the driveway as more is pouring down. She has got to get out of there, but this is not the time to be outside. Not with all those lightning strikes. It’s too dangerous. She knows she has to wait it out. But how long will this storm last? She can’t risk getting caught in here. People like these, rich people like this, own guns. They protect themselves. Marcia reaches down in the side of her pants and pulls out a gun. She doesn’t remember where she got it, and startled, she drops it to the ground.
