Today's Promises

by S. R. Grey

  “Jaynie, what’d you do? Why in the hell would you go back there?”

  “I couldn’t let you go down for us,” she cries. “Keeping Allison in prison wasn’t worth you going to jail, Flynn.”

  Uh-oh, this sounds bad.

  I draw back and say quietly, “We should talk about this inside.”

  We’re all alone, but still, the alley is no place for a conversation like this.

  Back up in our room, Jaynie proceeds to tell me everything. She reiterates how she couldn’t let me go down for planting evidence, and then details how she went to the barn and dug up the towel and the knife.

  She tells me how Detective Silver showed up and caught her red-handed, which leaves me muttering, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” as I scrub a hand down my face.

  “He figured it all out, Flynn,” she says quietly. “Every last bit of it.”

  “I could’ve warned you he was coming,” I mutter, “if you’d picked up before you got there.”

  “I had no cell service,” she replies, which I know is the truth. “And, besides, it’s not like you knew what I was doing.”

  She’s right on that one. Had I known I would’ve stopped her.

  I blow out a breath. “Just thank God you’re okay.” And then it hits me, the full implications of her story. “Wait.” I peer over at her, confused. “How are you even here with me in this apartment? How are you not down at the police station, under arrest? Not that I’m not overjoyed that you are here, but how are you here?”

  “Detective Silver let me go” is Jaynie’s easy-going response. Like this happens every day, the police letting criminals go.

  “He let you go?” To say I’m in a state of disbelief would be an understatement.

  “Yes,” she replies.

  “Even after he admitted that he knew I stole the blood and that he’s aware we created fake evidence?” Before she can reply, I add, “Oh, and let’s not forget you were tampering with that fake evidence, pretty much right in front of his face.”

  “Yes, I was,” she admits.

  “Yet, after all that, he was willing to look away?”

  “Yes, Flynn, that’s pretty much how it all went down.”

  “Why?” I ask. “Why let us off the hook like that?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know, but let’s not question it too much. Let’s just be happy we finally have someone in our corner.”

  Shaking my head, I reply, “That’s fine with me. But I’m still shocked. He always claimed to have our backs, and—”

  “He definitely does,” Jaynie finishes for me.

  Arching a brow, I say, “You do realize there is one bad thing in all of this, right?”

  “That Allison will walk now,” she replies. “Yes, I know. But she would’ve walked anyway, if I’d destroyed the evidence.”

  “Would you have, though?” I eye her intently, searching for the truth of how far she was willing to go. “Or were you planning on planting that shit somewhere else?”

  “I never got that far,” she answers, looking sheepish and guilty as hell. “Detective Silver showed up prior to my deciding.”

  Sighing, I say, “Well, it’s over. And it’s probably for the best all the way around. It’s not like it was real evidence.”

  “True.” Jaynie crosses her arms and shakes her head. “God, though. I hate that there was nothing up there, nothing real, to keep Allison behind bars.”

  Suddenly feeling more optimistic than I have in ages, probably due to the fact we received a huge break today, I say, “Hey, you never know. Maybe Detective Silver will feel compelled to look around one final time. And maybe something will turn up if he does.”

  Jaynie then hands me her cell, and says, “Forget about maybes, Flynn. I think we should call him, beg him if we have to, but let’s make sure he takes one more look before he closes the case.”

  Jaynie

  We call and ask, but Detective Silver makes no promises one way or the other. He does tell us the usual: “If I decide to go back to the Lowry property, you two will be the first to know.”

  “Fair enough,” Flynn replies.

  Exhausted from the day and all that’s happened, Flynn and I decide to go to bed early. We’re asleep within minutes, but I awake hours later with a start.

  Flynn is up in an instant as well. He’s that attuned to my night terrors.

  “Bad dream?” he asks, propping himself up on one elbow.

  “Not this time,” I reply. “There was no dream, actually. None at all. But I still felt…” I search for the right words to explain what exactly has me so uneasy that I woke from a dead sleep.

  “I don’t know, Flynn,” I whisper. “I just suddenly felt like you weren’t lying here next to me. Like”—my voice trembles—“like you had left and I was all alone again.”

  I touch his cheek, his nose, his chin, just to verify he’s really here.

  “Babe…” He leans in and presses his lips to mine. “I’m here. And I’ll always be here. We’ll never again be apart.”

  “Yeah, but we could’ve been,” I say, sighing. “If Detective Silver wasn’t so kind, we would’ve both been arrested.”

  “But he is kind,” Flynn assures me as he rolls on top of me, a little breathless. “And neither of us is in any kind of trouble.”

  He then smothers me in kisses, a successful attempt to distract me from my unnecessary worries.

  “Yes,” I breathe out, my pulse racing as Flynn deposits feathery kisses along my neck. “We may not be in that bad kind of trouble,” I say. “But you’re going to find yourself in a really good kind of trouble”—I gasp—“if you keep kissing me like this.”

  “Duly noted,” he murmurs.

  The intensity of those kisses is amped up, each one hotter than the kiss before. But then it’s too much…all the damn clothes, that is. I need Flynn, and I need him now.

  Tugging at the hem of his tee, I murmur, “Take this off.”

  He complies and then, nodding to his boxer-clad lower body, asks in a teasing tone, “You want me to leave these on, though, right?”

  “Are you kidding me?” I scoff.

  I slide my hand inside his boxers and that pretty much puts an end to any additional silly talk of leaving on clothes that clearly need to come off.

  A minute later Flynn is back on me…and then he’s in me. A few minutes more and I am crying out his name, along with declarations of my undying love.

  This is good. This is better than we’ve been in a long time. This joining of our bodies doesn’t feel rushed. It’s not what it’s been these past couple months—frenzied, desperate.

  Our joining this night speaks of one thing only—love.

  Detective Silver

  As I drive up the steep hill that leads to the Lowry property, the shovel I stowed in the trunk before I left the precinct clinking away, I have to ask myself one question: Why am I so hell-bent on helping Flynn and Jaynie? It’s not like I know them, not really. But here I am, at the Lowry property once more.

  Really, what the hell?

  I’ve already jeopardized my career by letting those two get away with planting fake evidence. I even went so far as to cover up what they did. Yet I’m back on this property at their request to search one final time before the Debbie Canfield case has to be closed for good.

  As I make my way to the pole barn Jaynie and Flynn refer to as the ‘work barn’—that damn clanking shovel finally silenced since it now rests in my grasp—I think back to my own reckless youth.

  Ah, therein I know I’ll find the answer as to why I am so committed to helping these kids.

  I never had a bad home life, but I was a rebel at heart. I butted heads with my parents almost constantly. Caught up in the early ’90s grunge rock movement, I fancied myself at the time the next Kurt Cobain, or maybe even an Eddie Vedder.

  Only problem was I had no band.

  But I sure was determined to find one.

  One day, after having no luck in my Podunk West Virginia tow
n, I took off, hitching rides across the country until I ended up in Seattle.

  Where it all began, I thought.

  Being the naïve seventeen-year-old that I was at that time, I was sure I’d find my future bandmates on the streets of the Emerald City. It was like I’d found my way to a grunge rock Oz.

  What a fool I was, I think, shaking my head.

  Three days of hanging out in Pioneer Square with all the homeless was all it took for me to open my eyes. I realized then that the kids who were there weren’t looking to make music; they were looking to survive. I saw things no kid should ever see. And by day number four, I was calling my mom, crying and begging to come home.

  My understanding mom, just happy I was alive and well, sent me a bus ticket back to West Virginia. The whole ride home I kept counting my blessings for what I had been so stupid to ever take for granted. Things like a roof over my head, plenty to eat, and parents who, though we fought, loved me.

  And that’s it. That’s why I have a soft spot for Jaynie and Flynn. I see them as two kids, not so different from who I once was. But they’ve not been nearly as fortunate. Sadly, life’s dealt them a bad hand, until recently. Though I don’t think they always see it, they’ve been thriving since escaping the Lowry house.

  But what’ll happen to those kids if Allison gets out of prison?

  She may leave them alone, sure. But then again, she may not.

  Why take a chance?

  That’s why I’m here and ready to search once more for something, anything to keep that wicked girl behind bars.

  Where to start, where to start, I ask myself as I walk into the barn.

  I stop and look around.

  The one thing that’s been bothering me since Flynn called that weekend is the loose cement slab. Why would a section of the flooring in a new structure come loose so soon after construction?

  There’s no good reason, unless it was tampered with.

  That’s where I decide to search, so I start walking again and head straight over to the area Flynn told me about.

  Finding the right area is easy, seeing as Jaynie never moved the piece of cement back in to place.

  Standing there, the hole in the ground that Flynn dug stares back at me, daring me to dig farther, much farther than where he stopped.

  I take a deep breath.

  And then I start to dig.

  I dig and dig, going far beyond where Flynn once hid food. Deeper than where the fake evidence was placed as well.

  I continue to dig and dig, until I finally hit something solid.

  Interesting…

  Dropping to my knees—to hell with my recently dry-cleaned suit—I fish around in the soft earth with my hands. And that’s when I find something.

  I lift the item up.

  “Damn,” I murmur.

  It’s a bone—a human one, from what I can tell.

  I continue to dig, uncovering another, then another…

  Flynn

  On Saturday, Jaynie and I drive up to Morgantown to visit with Mandy and the twins. Josh is working a double, so it’s just the five of us. Like old times.

  Inspired by those old times, we take Cody and Callie to a local park so we can play the kids’ games they love so very much. The games they choose are the ones we used to play up in the fields by the Lowry house, games like Tag and Hide and Seek.

  “Stay within the limits of the park,” Mandy tells the twins before we begin our first game, Hide and Seek.

  “Okay, Mom,” Callie and Cody echo back as they run off in opposite directions.

  I’ve been designated ‘it’ for this first game, so after counting to one hundred, I open my eyes and begin to search.

  I find Jaynie first, hidden behind a swing set. “Lame,” I tell her.

  “Eh.” She shrugs. “Maybe I wanted you to find me first.”

  That earns her a peck on the cheek.

  Next up, with Jaynie’s help, I locate Mandy. She’s curled up in one of those plastic tube slides.

  “These are for kids,” I say to her when she has to crawl out, all awkward-like. “They’re clearly not designed for adults.”

  “Pfft,” she snorts. “Admit it, Flynn. It was a pretty good hiding place.”

  “Not that good,” I say in a teasing tone. “I found you, right?”

  She pushes me away. “Shut up. You only found me with Jaynie’s help.”

  “I’ll ignore that comment,” I say as the three of us share a laugh.

  Next, on my own, I find Cody.

  He’s hidden behind a big tree. It’s not a very good hiding spot, but I tell him otherwise to build his confidence.

  “I pick the best-est hiding place ever,” he says, puffing out his chest. “Don’t I, Flynnie?”

  “You sure do, kiddo,” I reply.

  Cody then promptly gives away his sister.

  Running over to a thick growth of shrubs, he pulls back the branches and informs a crouching Callie, “Did you see where I was hiding, Callie? Flynnie tell me I picked a good spot.”

  “Cody!” Callie yells as she stands up and brushes off her knees. “You just gave me away, you jerk.”

  “Hey, no name-calling,” Mandy chastises.

  Since the kids are all wound up, we adults call for a break before the next game begins.

  “It’ll give the kids some time to cool down,” Mandy says to me and Jaynie in a low voice as she hands the twins money for a nearby ice cream vendor.

  Once they run off, the three of us sit down at a picnic bench, one where we have a good view of them.

  “This day is really turning out to be fun,” Mandy remarks, smiling over at us.

  “It is,” I agree. “And it’s really good for the twins, a reminder of the old times, but only the good ones.”

  Jaynie interjects, “Hey, that reminds me of something. I have something for you, Mandy.”

  Mandy appears curious right away. “What is it?” she asks.

  Jaynie leans forward and fishes out a folded piece of parchment from the back pocket of her jeans. It’s the card the twins made for Mandy last summer.

  “I meant to give this to you a long time ago,” she says, holding out the card. “I originally found it back in the fall, hidden away in the work barn.”

  Mandy takes the card and reads it. From the tears gathering in her eyes, it’s clear she’s touched by the sweet sentiments the twins wrote long ago.

  “Thank you for saving it for me,” she says softly when she’s done reading.

  “I knew you would want it,” Jaynie says. “I’d forgotten about it back in the fall, but, luckily, I came across it last weekend when we were up at the work barn…”

  Jaynie trails off, and we all fall silent. No one wants to bring up the subject of our failure to find evidence against Allison. It means there will never be justice for Debbie. Plus, Allison will be out of prison soon, free to do as she chooses.

  I’m about to say something to lighten the rapidly growing somber mood, but just then my cell phone rings. We don’t get many calls, so it’s no surprise when Jaynie turns to me and asks, “Who the heck could that be?”

  Peering down at the screen, I murmur, “It’s Detective Silver.”

  “Answer it,” she says excitedly. “Hurry, Flynn, before it goes to voice mail.”

  I do as Jaynie asks, and Detective Silver starts speaking right away. I listen, expecting the worst—that he found no evidence at the Lowry place and that it’s all over.

  But then, as he goes on and on, his words paint a picture of a different outcome, one that’s making me smile like a lunatic.

  “What is it?” Jaynie grabs my arm. “What’s he saying that’s making you so ridiculously happy, Flynn?”

  Mandy chimes in, “Yeah, what’s going on?”

  “Good news,” I mouth to the girls.

  And it is. It’s the kind of news that leaves me feeling that, for the first time in a long time, the world just might be on our side.

  Jaynie

 
; Allison Lowry remains in prison.

  Detective Silver’s call, informing us that Debbie Canfield’s skeleton was found in the work barn, right where Flynn and I planted evidence, makes sure of that.

  Wow, it was there all along, everything we needed. We just hadn’t dug deeply enough.

  No matter, the case is solved.

  The coroner determines that Debbie was strangled, and the early clues point to Allison. And then, to everyone’s surprise, some very damning evidence is discovered.

  A diary was apparently buried with Debbie, far below where her bones were. The book doesn’t belong to the missing girl, however. It belongs to Allison, and it contains her own detailed account of how she planned to get rid of Debbie.

  The find is as good as a confession, and our former tormentor is charged with murder. A trial date is set, but by the end of the summer Allison confesses, eliminating the need for a trial. She’s sentenced to life in prison, with no possibility for parole.

  A few weeks later, the Lowry house and both barns are condemned. The property itself is slated to become a nature preserve and park. Flynn and I are happy with those developments, especially the idea of a park. From that point on, we closely monitor all progress to make sure it really happens.

  And it does. The barns are torn down immediately, just not the house.

  “It’s supposed to be demolished by October first,” Flynn informs me.

  Curious as to how things look up there now, I suggest we drive over to Forsaken to see for ourselves.

  We’re in a good mood on the way over, both of us happy that soon all the reminders of our suffering will be gone.

  “This feels good,” I say to Flynn after we arrive at the Lowry property.

  “It does,” he agrees with a smile.

  We walk up the driveway and stop once we reach the house where we were once held captive.

  “Knowing everything up here is about to be obliterated feels so right,” I murmur.

  He hands me a rock. “Let’s make it feel even better.”

  We proceed to throw rocks at the house, just like Jenny did in the movie Forrest Gump. And also like in the movie, sometimes there are just not enough rocks.