by Jo Crow
The salt shaker met the table with a click. Detective Elkins narrowed his eyes slightly, just enough I could read the hostility he’d kept carefully concealed. “As it should, but that’s life, isn’t it? Your son will never know all of the things you did in the past, will he?”
The nod to my history tightened my lips and sobered my attitude. I looked him in the eye, and he looked back with unflinching aplomb. There was no hiding the things I’d done, and I knew it. But I’d also grown in the years I’d been away. I’d left the darkness of my past behind me, and I’d come back a woman who knew what she wanted from life and how to get it.
“No.” I glanced up, hoping the waitress would stop by. The restaurant had quieted down, and I imagined the lunchtime rush had passed. “I hope he won’t.”
“And it’s the same for all of us. We all have masks we wear. The big question is, who are we hiding behind them?” Detective Elkins turned his head to look where I was looking. “Now where’s that damn waitress? My lunch break doesn’t last forever.”
The flame beneath the grill no longer sparked and popped. There was no sizzling fat. The DJ introduced the next song, and I heard the notes more clearly than before.
The restaurant was empty.
“What is it?” I looked to Detective Elkins, seeking answers, but his face was drawn and stern. Eyes narrowed slightly, body tense, he stood and gestured for me to do the same. I listened, no longer caring what harm he’d done me in the past.
Something was going on, and whatever it was it had Detective Elkins on guard.
“What is it?” I repeated in a whisper.
“Here’s what we’re going to do.” Detective Elkins kept his expression stoic. Not a hint of doubt shone through in his voice. “You’re going to leave the restaurant with me, and we’re going to get you into my car. You can ride in the front seat if you want—you’re not under arrest. But if the grills have stopped and everyone—even the waitress—is gone, then there’s something going on here we need to get figured out before I’ll feel safe letting you go.”
He nodded with his chin toward the front door. “Now, let’s walk nice and slow toward the entrance. Casual. There isn’t anything unusual going on.”
Saying it was a hell of a lot different than living it. As my fear escalated exponentially and my heart raced, I wasn’t sure I could respect his wishes. How was I supposed to act calm when the entire restaurant had quietly emptied out? When even the cooks had left?
Something was going to happen here; something bad.
“Detective?” I couldn’t hold back on the panic in my voice. It shook my words and rattled my resolve. I’d come back to end a nightmare, not live a new one. “This isn’t as bad as I think it is, right? This something I have to be nervous about?”
“As long as I’m here, you’re going to be fine. Should the law find you guilty, you’ll be dealt justice as it is warranted. I will not have you brought to justice here, no matter what anyone else in town believes.”
It felt like my heart skipped a beat only to take off flying. The weightless, uneasy feeling left me without anything to hold on to, like I’d stepped into an anti-gravity chamber. Maybe Blake hadn’t been acting on his own. Was it possible he had banded together with the town to do me in?
The thought made me sick.
“Let’s go, Clara.” Detective Elkins said. “We need to get you out.”
Casually, as though there was nothing wrong, Detective Elkins left the table to head for the door. I followed him, each step I took a small miracle in its own right. My knees felt like they’d buckle, and the way my muscles had tensed left them so solid they may as well have been made of stone. I fell behind Detective Elkins, walking at his right shoulder so he could follow me from the corner of his eye.
We crossed the eerily empty lobby and approached the front door together.
The jingle of the bell as Detective Elkins opened the door was ominous instead of cheerful. From what I could see, the parking lot had cleared out. Detective Elkins’s cruiser and my car remained.
“Let’s go.” He held the door for me; I noticed how he kept a watchful eye on what was going on.
I stepped into the heat. The sun beat down on my shoulders, oppressive. It hadn’t bothered me all that much before, but now I was on guard, every detail was so much crisper. Loose dirt swirled around my foot, pushed around by a breeze too gentle for me to detect. The smell of bacon leached from the kitchen, mixing with the scent of freshly cut grass and exhaust fumes.
A hand met my lower back, and I jumped. Detective Elkins came up behind me, a tall, unyielding wall of strength. With his hand to guide me, we crossed the parking lot to his cruiser. He unlocked the door for me and saw me in. As soon as I sank down onto the leather seat, I closed my eyes and thanked God.
The pop of gravel beneath heavy tires stole my relief, and I opened my eyes to find two monstrous trucks turn into the parking lot and creep by. Each held two men, burly and unruly. They glared at me as they passed, and I was sure I felt their eyes on me even after they’d come to park all the way at the other end of the parking lot.
Right next to my car.
Detective Elkins opened the driver’s door and lowered himself into the seat. He fitted the key into the ignition and turned on the car. The air conditioning was a welcome reprieve from the heat, and I leaned toward the cool jet of air and let it chill me. After what I’d been through, I felt like I needed it.
If Detective Elkins hadn’t alerted me to what was going on and so graciously offered me refuge in his car, I’d still be in the restaurant, blissfully unaware the place had emptied out, and four beefy men were on their way in to see me. I didn’t want to think about what would have happened.
“Aren’t you going to talk to them?” I asked.
Detective Elkins shook his head. “No. I’m going to take you to the station; then I’m going to go back there and find out what the hell is going on. I don’t take too kindly to men who think they can give justice with their own hands.”
Detective Elkins pulled out of the parking lot. As we picked up speed and continued down the street, I watched the men in the trucks in the wing mirror. None of them had moved. Every set of eyes was on me, gleaming with unchecked rage.
There was no doubt in my mind those men had meant me harm.
“Eyes on the road, face forward,” Detective Elkins said. “Don’t zone out on me now. I need you alert. I’m going to call in to see if some of the good old boys on the force can’t deploy to Chow’s while we’re on our way to the station. Once we get back, you’re going to need to report everything that happened exactly as you remember it. Cling to the details—they count.”
I snapped out of my stupor and looked forward. I’d dodged trouble, but I couldn’t foresee what other harrowing situations awaited me hours from now. Days? Weeks? The people of Hickory Hills had made it crystal clear what they thought of me and how far they were willing to go to get me to leave town. I was trapped between what I needed to do for James and what I needed to do for myself. And when it came down to it, reduced down to a single, simple statement, I knew what I needed to do.
No matter how terrified I was, I needed to see my time out in Hickory Hills. If I left the documentary, there was no realistic way I’d earn the money I needed.
Lay low, Gino had told me, and lay low I would—but I wasn’t giving up. They couldn’t strong-arm me into leaving. I owed it to James, but I also owed it to myself.
I was done with running.
16
The smooth gray brickwork of Hickory Hills Police Department was understated and formal. The station stood on a corner lot on the outskirts of downtown, positioned perfectly to access the main streets and the narrow, residential roads. Detective Elkins pulled into the parking lot—there was no garage—and parked. As he took the keys from the ignition, he turned to look at me. His dark eyes assessed, not cruelly, but hinting at curiosity. He’d made the call in to the station on the way there.
&nb
sp; “Are you going to be okay, McNair?”
Clara was gone, but I hadn’t expected it to last.
“I’m going to be okay. I’m tougher than that. But I need to know when I can get back my car.” I hadn’t seen James in well over twenty-four hours, and I needed to get his medication. And I knew Amanda was on a tight schedule. I didn’t want to make her late for whatever she had going on that night. “Am I able to wait in the station until one of the officers is available to drive me back to it? I don’t exactly feel safe walking the streets alone.”
Not anymore.
“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Detective Elkins unclipped his seatbelt and opened the door. “Let’s get you situated. Come on. I’ll find out from the front desk what’s happening.”
It was a short walk from the cruiser to the front doors of the police department, but it was long enough that I felt uncomfortable. The few pedestrians that passed by looked at me. I felt their eyes bore through my back as though to remind me I was supposed to have suffered a different fate. Was everyone in town in on the scheme? Word traveled fast in such a tightly knit community.
I was a person, too. No matter what crimes they accused me of or how much they wished I would leave town, I had thoughts, and feelings, and dreams. I lived and breathed and ate just as they did. Yet they wanted the worst for me. No one here was going to give me the benefit of the doubt.
Detective Elkins pulled open the door and held it for me as I stepped into the police department. Rows of chairs, unoccupied, took up the front of the reception area. A middle-aged woman sat behind the desk immediately across from the door, a phone pinched to her ear with her shoulder, her hand lifted up as she examined her acrylic nails. When she noticed Detective Elkins enter, she hung up the phone and sat a little straighter. Her eyes never wandered from him.
“Detective! I wasn’t sure you’d be coming back so soon. I was just talking with the boys I dispatched to Chow’s.”
“What did they say?” I asked.
The woman’s gaze turned to me. She narrowed her eyes and set her ruby lips.
“She’s fine, Frankie.” Detective Elkins waved her off. He strolled to the desk, brushing by me. “This is the young woman who was at the scene of the disturbance. She can document what happened, and I’ll corroborate her story if it matches up with what I witnessed.”
“Well, according to the boys, the men you saw are already gone. We can run vehicle details and plate numbers, if you have them, but there’s not much we can do. They didn’t actually cause any harm.”
“So my car’s okay?” Without it, I wouldn’t have a way out of town if things got bad. There wasn’t exactly a taxi service in a town so small, and Uber didn’t exist out in remote areas. I didn’t want to get into a car with any of the townsfolk, anyway. “It was on the lot at Chow’s; the only one there.”
“Oh.” The woman’s lips twitched. She looked between Detective Elkins and me, nervous. “Well. Maybe not, then. The boys we dispatched reported there was nothing there but a beat-up old junker. Windows bashed in, hood dented badly, tires flat…”
My stomach sank. I opened my mouth to speak, but Detective Elkins beat me to it. “Can you get them to phone in a description of the vehicle? Plate numbers? Even if it had been left there, it will need to be moved. Procedure is procedure.”
“I’ll get on it.” The dispatcher’s nose twitched, and she picked up the phone again and fixed me with a bored, muted look like the tedium in her life was all my fault.
In a way, I supposed it was—but, right at that moment, it didn’t matter. I needed a dependable vehicle so I could get around. Gino had advised me to ditch my own car for something else, and I wished I’d taken his advice. If the men who’d pulled in just as we were leaving had smashed my windshields and dented my hood, my car wouldn’t be operable for days—maybe weeks—until it was fixed.
“While she’s making the call, come sit down. I’m going to see if there’s anyone out back who can take your statement.”
“There isn’t,” the dispatcher said plainly as she held the phone to her ear. “Everyone is out on call dealing with this mess at Chow’s or making rounds.”
“Shit.” Detective Elkins met my eye. “We’re going to have to keep you a little longer, then. We’ll have you out the door as soon as we can.”
“I understand.” The police department was the one place I would be safe, ironically, after all Detective Elkins had done to get me to confess my alleged guilt. If it wasn’t that James was waiting for me at Amanda’s, I would have stayed there. “Thank you for stepping in when I needed it the most, detective. I know you’re not very fond of me.”
“Being fond of you is a personal matter. Protecting you as I would any citizen is my job. I like to think I can separate the two when it most matters.” Detective Elkins’s face was hard, but it wasn’t unkind. “Go take a seat, McNair. It won’t be much longer now.”
The dispatcher’s withering look followed me to one of the plastic chairs. Detective Elkins disappeared into the back rooms as I sat and, for a little while, I was alone. Without heart-hammering adrenaline to keep me wired, my emotions collapsed in on themselves, and tears began to bead in the corners of my eyes.
I’d almost been hurt. I could have died.
The town I’d grown up in—the one I’d called home until I was eighteen—had turned its back on me.
Worse, it wished me ill.
There were few things worse than knowing people hated me in such an extreme way. In that moment, if I hadn’t needed the documentary work so badly, I would have left and never returned. But I was stuck; I had to do what needed to be done. I couldn’t back out.
“Ma’am?” the dispatcher crowed.
I looked up to find her peering down at me from her desk. “Yes?”
“What’s your license plate number?”
“K0W 5GA.”
“Your car has been vandalized. You’ll need to tow it to a shop to get it fixed—it can’t stay in the parking lot.”
I winced. It was an expected outcome, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting. That was money I definitely didn’t have, and an inconvenience I definitely didn’t need.
“I’ve got it, McNair.” Detective Elkins emerged from the back, a coffee in hand. “Do you have someone you can call to collect you while we get your car in to the shop?”
“I…” I took a breath. “Yes.”
“You got a phone?”
“Yes.” Luckily, I’d taken it from the car before going inside to eat. “I’ll give someone a call and have them collect me.”
Detective Elkins nodded. For a moment, he looked thoughtfully off to the side, then his gaze flicked back to meet mine. He reached into his inside pocket and handed me his card. “And if you ever feel threatened, you’re to call in to the station. Do you understand? We’ll take care of it, whatever it is, no matter how small. As long as you’re in Hickory Hills, you have the same rights as any other resident. No matter public perception, and no matter if you’re being investigated for murder, our job is to uphold the law.”
“Thank you.” I didn’t know how to express my gratitude anymore profoundly than that. Detective Elkins was my enemy, but this was a side to him I hadn’t expected. There was compassion in his soul—a devotion to justice I found admirable.
“Don’t worry about it.” He lifted his mug in parting, then left me to return to the back rooms of the station.
I watched him until he disappeared through a doorway. There were few people I could rely on in town; I needed them all. I sat back in my chair and started to plan my next course of action.
A pair of police officers arrived half an hour later, and I was able to give my statement. Jerry Appleton and his wife, who I’d called while waiting for the officers to arrive, dropped off their second car for me to use while I was waiting for repairs. Francine had recently developed cataracts and wasn’t able to drive anymore, anyway, and Jerry insisted he was relieved someone was putting the vehicle to goo
d use.
It was just before two o’clock when I showed up at Amanda’s door. In the short time it took to remove my finger from the doorbell, she’d already thrown the door open, all smiles.
“Clara!”
“I didn’t forget you.” I smiled even though I knew the gesture was weak. “Sorry I’m cutting it so close. I had a hell of a day.”
“You’re fine, you’re fine. It turns out I’ve actually got another hour before I need to be out the door, so you’re here just in time. I’m a little surprised, though. It’s a long time to be away from a sick child. James has been missing you.”
As if on cue, James burst out from behind Amanda and latched onto my leg. He buried his face and held me tight, and I couldn’t help but laugh. After everything I’d been through, it was good to be loved. A single look at him reminded me why I was putting us through this ordeal. I couldn’t see my bright, loving little boy wither away.
“Come in.” Amanda stepped onto the porch and gestured for me to follow. “I want to hear all about what happened.”
“I… you probably don’t, actually.” I bent down to pick James up, and he cried with delight as I lifted him high into the air. If he kept growing like this, it wouldn’t be long before I couldn’t pick him up anymore. He was starting to get heavy. “It was a nightmare.”
“Then tell me; get it off your chest.” Amanda led me into the living room across old carpet that was frayed at the edges and threadbare in high-traffic areas. The furniture in the room was mismatched but, unlike Mrs. Hendricks’s place, it clearly wasn’t from age but limited funds. Amanda settled on the old, sagging couch and patted the seat beside her. “If you keep everything bottled up, you’re going to explode one day. You don’t have to go into detail if you don’t want to, but I think it’d be good for you if you shared.”
I wasn’t sure if it would hurt or help me, but the temptation was certainly there. I sat beside her and made sure James was settled, then contemplated what I could say without risk of frightening my son.
