Heart of Cole

by Micheal Maxwell

  “I said I was sorry,” Lindsey snapped.

  “Look, I know I’m not like your mother. I am just the lady helping you out of a mess. However, I think I am due some respect, and a tiny bit of courtesy. What is the matter with you?”

  “I don’t like to be told what to do. I really don’t like to be shouted at! And you’re right; you’re not my mother, so stop acting like it. I’m going to bed.”

  “Stop right there, young lady!”

  “Lindsey turned and glared. “What?” she demanded.

  “You don’t have to stay here, you know. I am trying to do my best, but if you would be happier somewhere else…” Hanna lowered her voice.

  “I don’t have to stay anywhere!” Lindsey interrupted, then spun around and stomped to her room and slammed the door.

  Hanna threw her hands up to her burning cheeks and sobbed.

  “Hello.”

  “Cole, its Hanna.”

  “What time is it?” Cole said groggily.

  “A little after eleven. Did I wake you?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Is something wrong?”

  Hanna knew what she wanted, and needed to say, but she was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. “Oh, Cole I think I’ve made a big mistake. There’s a reason I’m not a mother. I don’t have the temperament to deal with a teenager. I have lived alone far too long. I hate defiance, and I am starting to hate Lindsey.”

  “What’s happened now?” Cole was now fully awake.

  “She didn’t get home until after nine o’clock. I was worried sick. I went from mad, to worried, to resentful, to fed up.” Hanna blew her nose into the tenth tissue of the night. “Sorry, I don’t want to do this anymore. There’s a nasty side to this kid. You’ve never seen it, but she is like a little Miss Jekyll and Hyde.”

  “So what are you saying? You want to turn her over to CPS?”

  “Could you talk to her before I do anything final?

  “Sure, I can talk to her, but my daughter came to me full grown, married, and with a daughter of her own. I don’t think I’m the best resource for child counseling.” Cole was trying to wrap his head around this sudden turn of events. “So, how long has this been going on? I mean she’s only been with you, what, ten or twelve days?”

  “She nearly bit my head off at breakfast. All I did was ask her about a call I got from the school. It seems she ditched half way through the day. I don’t even know if she went to school today. I am so upset. I don’t know what to do.”

  “I tell you what: try to get some sleep, tread lightly in the morning, and I’ll talk to Lindsey after school tomorrow.” Cole tried to put a positive spin on a bad situation. “How’s that sound?”

  “Like two-thirty can’t come soon enough.”

  “How many glasses of wine have you had?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Hanna snapped.

  “Come on…”

  “One,” Hanna lied.

  “Well, have another and go to bed. See you in the morning.”

  “OK. Thank you. Really, Cole, thank you.”

  “It’s gonna be alright. Good night.”

  Cole shook his head trying to clear the cobwebs. Why must the day always start with morning? he thought. He showered, dressed, and made his way to the kitchen. After popping the last bagel into the toaster, and hitting the start button on the coffee maker, Cole went to the front porch to get the paper.

  The plastic screeched as he attempted to free the paper from its cocoon. Cole flopped the paper open on the kitchen table. He froze when he saw the face of another woman above the fold. He quickly read the caption and then the story. “Found in her car, stabbed in the back of the head, one more in a rash of unexplained ice pick murders,” Cole scanned the article frantically. Then he saw it, and at first it didn’t register: Claire Muir.

  “Why do I know that name?” Cole said, aloud. Claire! That’s the name of Kelly’s not-so-secret-any-longer admirer, that’s why, Cole smiled at the irony of him not knowing where he heard the name.

  As he rushed around the kitchen cleaning up, Cole made a mental note to call Leonard Chin when he got to the office. He folded the paper, tucked it under his arm, and made his way to the door. Just as he closed the door behind him, he heard the phone ring. For a moment he thought, let the machine get it, but something told him to answer it.

  “Cole! Have you seen the paper? Claire is dead! Murdered! I can’t believe it!” Kelly was frantic.

  “Yeah, I saw it. That’s your Claire?” Cole asked.

  “She’s not my Claire, but yes, that is the one I know. It’s horrible. Hours after she, I mean while we, ate dinner. The article says a security guard found her at 7:30. Oh my heavens, Cole, that poor girl.” Kelly sounded breathless. “I just can’t believe it. Who would want to hurt her?”

  “I don’t know, Kelly. I’m really sorry,” Cole offered.

  “She had no one, she was adopted, she ran away at sixteen—seems like she never had a chance.”

  “Claire had the same chances we all do, Kelly. These murders are random. Don’t go there.” Cole sighed. “Look, I know this hits really close to home. I’m sorry the woman is dead. It is horrible, no question, but it has nothing to do with you rejecting her. It has nothing to do with you knowing her. It is a senseless act of violence. Please don’t make any more of it than that. Please.”

  “How can you be so cold?”

  “I’m not being cold. This is like the seventh of these puncture murders. Look at yesterday’s paper, the day before, the week before, the month before—people are killed every day, Kelly, in meaningless, senseless acts of brutality. It’s a fact. Innocent, guilty—violence is no respecter of age, sex, race, or anything else. Violence makes no sense because it makes no sense. I have been reporting the news for a long time and it is just the cold, hard truth. I hate it, but that is just the way it is.”

  “I need to go.”

  “Kelly. Kelly!”

  The line was as dead as Claire Muir.

  “Good morning.” Cole said, as he approached Hanna’s desk.

  “Says who?”

  “Yikes, you look like I feel. You alright?”

  “Apart from not sleeping, getting the silent treatment and dirty looks all the way through breakfast and the drive to school, my morning is unicorns, butterflies and daisies.” Hanna gave Cole a wide, sarcastic, very forced grin.

  “I managed to get in my first fight with Kelly!” Cle announced. “She hung up on me!”

  “Why?”

  “You haven’t seen the morning edition yet.”

  “Not yet.” Hanna flipped over the paper on her desk. “Oh, my God! It’s Claire, the woman at… What happened?”

  “Another victim of these puncture killings, stabbed on the way to her car.” Cole shrugged. “I tried to tell Kelly, people are killed every day and this is just another senseless act of brutality…”

  “That is really harsh, Cole!” Hanna interrupted. “Claire was her friend.”

  “You don’t know the half of it” Cole interjected. “Hold my calls, I’m phoning Chin.” Cole shook his head and went to his office.

  Cole got a recording and left a short call-me-back message. In less than a minute his phone rang.

  “Sorry. I was in the john.” Chin spoke before Cole was able to say “Hello.”

  “Since yesterday?” Cole quipped.

  “Some of us actually work for a living.”

  “Aren’t we touchy today?”

  “What’s up?” Chin ignored Cole remark.

  “These puncture murders.”

  “Ice pick. We figure the killer is using The Iceman’s old trick. Handle deep, with a twist!”

  “That’s rough.”

  “The woman last night was lucky number seven. This is crazy. It’s like every other day. No connections, no relationships, different neighborhoods, from poor to pretty well-off. We have absolutely nothing linking any of the victims. Black, white, male, female—it is totally random, murder for
sport.”

  “I have to tell you. Kelly knew Claire Muir. They went to the same gym. Friends of sorts, until she hit on Kelly that is.”

  “Kelly? Geez, she must have freaked.”

  “Even worse was when I said the same thing you did, about it being just random acts of violence, and they happen every day.”

  “That’s pretty rough. The victim was her friend. You are really a jerk sometimes, Sage.”

  “Gimme a break. So, what’s next?”

  “You better apologize right away,” Chin offered.

  “No, not with Kelly, with the murders.”

  “For print? But we got nothin’. This is a tough one. We keep waiting for a slip up of some kind, but it is all so random.

  “All to the head?”

  “No. Two were to the chest, square in the heart.”

  “That is really in-your-face killing. That takes a special kind of hate…”

  “Or training,” Chin cut in.

  “So you’re thinking military, then?”

  “We’re thinking everything. The mayor is threatening heads will roll, again, if we don’t catch him quick.”

  “What if it were a woman? You said ‘him’. What if it isn’t a man? Maybe a ‘she’ could gain the target’s confidence easier,” Cole pined, more out loud to himself than to his friend, the detective.

  “Yeah, could be…but it would be very unusual for a woman to commit this kind of killing.”

  “But not unheard of. Four of the seven victims have been women,” Cole suggested.

  “I hate to swell your head up, but you might just be on to something. We hit on that idea at first, but it was dismissed pretty quickly. I’ll run it through again. Many more of these and we’ll start seeing empty streets. Anyway, what was it you needed?” Chin asked.

  “Yesterday I was looking into filing a complaint on someone taking a person’s photo in the shower at a gym and emailing it to them.”

  “Kelly?”

  “No need now. It was Claire who was stalking Kelly, leaving creepy poems in her windshield, a rose in her locker. The topper was a full length shot in the shower, from behind. She e-mailed it to Kelly.”

  “She won’t send any more,” Chin quipped.

  “Now who’s cold?”

  “Claire.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The weekend turned out to be just what Hanna needed. She and Lindsey talked, baked cookies, laughed and joked, did their nails, and ate tons of junk food. They binge watched the Gilmore Girls on Netflix and went to bed around twelve.

  It seemed Lindsey turned a corner. She and Jake got along fine, by Sunday night they were joking and teasing each other, and at one point when the movie got to be too scary, Lindsey actually snuggled up next to him on the couch.

  The tough love Hanna applied when Lindsey showed up at nine o’clock after standing her up after school seemed to have really fired Lindsey up. Around midnight she came out of her room. Hanna felt Lindsey’s embarrassment was a good sign. After a late snack of milk and cookies, Lindsey seemed to “normalize.” Hanna really felt she was making headway. They both went to bed with apologies and promises to do better.

  Wednesday morning, Hanna felt better than she had in days when the alarm went off. She showered and dressed, woke Lindsey, and was in the kitchen ahead of schedule.

  “Hello?” Hanna said, answering the phone with a glance at the Felix-the-Cat wall clock. Seven o’clock! Who would be calling at this hour, she thought.

  “Ms. Day?”

  “Yes?”

  “Good morning! Penny Crawford, from Wallenberg.”

  “Good morning,” Hanna said hesitantly.

  “Good news!” the counselor nearly squealed with excitement.” We got Lindsey’s test scores!”

  “Wonderful.” Hanna’s stomach flipped over.

  “It’s kind of a good news-bad news report. Her math and science scores weren’t the best. No matter…her writing and verbal skills scores were off the chart. Wellsburg Academy is offering her a “disadvantaged student scholarship” set up by a wealthy alumnus. She’s in!”

  Hanna laughed. “I can’t believe it!” Her problems with Lindsey all seemed to disappear. She felt a tinge of guilt, but was thrilled with the idea of her not being responsible for Lindsey much longer. “Have you told her? When would she start?”

  “I was leaving that honor to you. I think it’s only fair. As far as the time frame goes, she could start as early as the Summer Session. That would help her get caught up a bit by fall. That said, Lindsey really must pass all of her classes this semester. Wellsburg Academy is willing to bend, but if she gets further behind, I don’t think they will be willing to gamble.”

  “I understand.”

  “I’m here to help or encourage any way I can. Lindsey’s a tricky case. I’m never quite sure how she will react to things,” the counselor said.

  “You and me both,” Hanna agreed.

  “We’ll just stay positive and get her through.”

  “Yes we will.”

  “Have a wonderful day!” With that the counselor was gone.

  “Good Morning,” Hanna said cheerfully as Lindsey came into the kitchen. “Hungry?”

  “Kinda.”

  “There’s yogurt and some blueberries in the fridge. There are bagels and I got some amazing strawberry cream cheese. I can cook up some eggs if you want.”

  “A bagel sounds good.” Lindsey opened the bag on the counter and put a bagel in the toaster.

  “I have some wonderful news,” Hanna began. “Your test scores came back.”

  Lindsey didn’t respond.

  “You did really well. Matter of fact, they said you were ‘off the chart’ in English and verbal skills.”

  Still no response.

  “The area you didn’t do so well in was math and science. Surprised?”

  “No. I hate math,” Lindsey finally replied.

  “Here’s the best part: Wellsburg Academy has offered you a full scholarship: room, food, tuition, everything!” Hanna said excitedly.

  Lindsey didn’t make a sound. She opened the refrigerator and stood a moment looking for the cream cheese. Finding it, she closed the door and went to the counter.

  “The thing is—and this is important. Are you listening?” Hanna turned around and Lindsey’s back was to her.

  “Yeah, I’m listening.”

  “You have to pass all your high school classes this semester. And no matter what, you cannot miss any more school,” Hanna said firmly. “If you screw up, you’ll lose the greatest opportunity of your life. Sometimes I don’t think you realize how cool this is. It’s an unbelievable opportunity.” Hanna turned back to her cup of tea.

  “An opportunity for you to get rid of me,” Lindsey snapped, not turning.

  “That’s not true. I just want you to have an amazing future, a brilliant career as a writer. This school will open new doors for you. From there you can get into any college you want. I never had a chance at anything like this. You’ve won the lottery, kid!” Hanna was almost pleading with the girl.

  “I have to leave San Francisco? I love this city. It’s my life. Everything I know is here.”

  “You can come back and stay all summer. I’ll come and visit you. Maybe we can arrange for you to come home at Christmas and Spring break.”

  The bagel popped up out of the toaster. Lindsey looked at the brown mass and pushed it down again.

  “Lindsey, there are people who really care about you, like Mrs. Crawford, the counselor. Pam in the attendance office really likes you, and worries when you’re not in school. Cole has done something very special for you that I haven’t even told you about. And I’m behind you all the way.” Hanna steeled herself, knowing she was entering difficult territory. “I know your life so far has been crap. I understand how much you love San Francisco. Truly I do. You are a very talented girl. But you have to learn some discipline. You really need to allow people who are older and have more experience in the world to
help guide you. Otherwise, where are you going to end up?”

  “Like my mom again! Is that all what you want to say? A whore, a druggie, an old lady beater? That it?” Lindsey voice rose with anger.

  “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

  “Yes, it is! You’re just like my mom. My way or no way. All or nothing. Always giving orders. I have choices in life! I am a writer and a good one. Cole said so! Yeah, yeah. Who are you to tell me what to do?”

  Hanna clinched her teeth. She was determined to stay calm and choose her words wisely. “Let’s have a nice breakfast and talk this out. We don’t have to fight and argue. Please Lindsey. Let’s go back to being friends. I’m not like your mom. I need you to understand that. I have not had a happy life either. My mother was abusive and an alcoholic. Believe me, I get it. I don’t want you hurt anymore.”

  “But you want me to leave San Francisco.” Lindsey’s tone softened.

  “Yes, for a while. Once you get your education you can live here the rest of your life if you want. In fact, you can come back here for college. We’re just talking about a couple of years.”

  Lindsey didn’t answer. The bagel popped up again, and she opened the drawer to get a knife to spread the cream cheese. Laying along the edge of the drawer was a wooden handled ice pick.

  “And what happens if I refuse to go to this fancy school in Virginia?” Lindsey slowly reached out and picked up the ice pick.

  Hanna felt a chill of panic come over her. She knew what she needed to say, but was terrified at what Lindsey’s response might be. “Then, you wouldn’t be able to live with me anymore.”

  Hanna took a sip of her tea and waited for Lindsey to respond.

  “You are my mom.” Lindsey’s voice took on a strange, almost tender tone. “I understand what you are saying. You help me best by getting rid of me. It’s for my own good. You’ll be much happier. I’ve heard it all before. She sold me off to all kinds of whores, junkies, and even strangers. I was in the way. I’m in the way now. Well, no more.”