Loved by Darkness

by Autumn Jordon

  The neighbors who normally checked on the old man had gone away on vacation for a week. The medical examiner was removing the body from the home when they’d arrived. It was a heartbreaking scene—so yeah, Jolene was right. It was better to know now, especially since the forecast predicted temperatures in the mid-nineties all week.

  Norris heard the lock click. The woman inside opened the door for them. He introduced himself and Jolene and then explained why they were there. Betty Morgan was the manager of the daycare so she knew all forty-five children who attended it.

  Jolene had peeled off her sunglasses. With her free hand, she held her cell phone. She pulled up a picture of Lia and held it out for Ms. Morgan to view. “Is this child one of your charges?”

  It was a different photo than the one she’d sent to him yesterday. In this one Lia was sitting on top of the slide in Martina’s backyard, laughing as if she were on top of the world.

  “Is she the daughter of Greg and Cheryl Hittler?” Norris asked.

  Ms. Morgan’s gaze jumped from the picture to him. “The answer to both of your questions is no. Greg and Cheryl’s daughter does attend school here, but that’s not her. Their daughter Skye is in our toddler class. She’s having lunch right now.” Morgan’s hand covered her heart. “Is everything okay with Gary and Cheryl? They haven’t been in an accident, have they?”

  Jolene looked at Norris.

  Norris looked back to the woman. “No. I’m sure they’re fine. Their employers were worried. Neither of them were at work today or yesterday and they didn’t answer any calls.” He hated white lies, but Lia’s case apparently had nothing to do with the Hittlers and he didn’t want Ms. Morgan to draw unfounded conclusions.

  “Oh.” Ms. Morgan sighed her relief and smiled. “That’s because a good friend of Cheryl’s passed away. She lives in Maryland. Or lived in Maryland. Skye is staying with Greg’s sister for a few days while they’re away for the services.”

  “Do you know Greg and Cheryl personally?” Jolene asked, while she slipped her phone into her purse.

  “I do. Ever since we were in elementary school together. They’re a nice couple. Great parents.” She pointed at Jolene’s phone. “Why would you need to speak to them about her? Is she the girl that was found floating on the ocean? I read about it in the papers. Just heart-breaking.”

  “Thank you for your time,” Norris said.

  “But is she the one?”

  “Sorry. We’re not at liberty to say,” Norris responded. “Again, thank you.”

  He held the door open for Jolene. She quickly skirted her way past him. Her soft scent momentarily brought back last night when she’d pulled him to her for another kiss.

  “I assure you, Cheryl and Greg are good people,” Ms. Morgan was saying behind his back. “I’m sure they have nothing to do with whatever happened to that girl.”

  “Thank you for your help.” Norris dipped his head again and then pushed the door closed.

  Once they reached the main sidewalk, Jolene settled her sunglasses back on her nose and turned to him. “Why do people always assume they know someone when they can’t possibly? No one ever knows what goes on behind closed doors or in someone’s mind?”

  Norris didn’t say anything, instead he studied Jolene and wondered who’d hurt her.

  “What’s next?” she asked, seemingly uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

  His phone buzzed and he looked at the scene. “The Hittler’s address is 87 Seaweed Lane. I’ll tell Larry to forget about meeting at their house and then we’ll keep searching.”

  He reached for the mike on his shoulder and Jolene stopped him by stroking her warm fingertips across his wrist.

  “Doesn’t it strike you funny that neither Greg’s nor Cheryl’s boss mentioned a friend’s death? Your deputy did say they simply hadn’t shown up for work, right?”

  “Yeah, he did.”

  “Maybe there really wasn’t a death. Maybe they left town for another reason.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit embarrassed. Jolene was sharp. He was so focused on this case he’d closed his eyes to part of the world around him. Something he always warned his staff not to do. His mentor had once advised him that a good cop stayed alive because he remained aware of his surroundings at all times.

  “If they left town,” he said, moving toward his car.

  Jolene walked beside him.

  Drugs were a problem year round, but during the summer a small-time supplier in this area could acquire a huge bankroll catering to the party crowd. Could the couple be on a drug run?

  “I’ll have Larry poke around a little at the Hittlers’ house and ask the neighbors about Cheryl and Greg. I don’t think they’re involved with Lia but I’ll have Larry show Lia’s picture around the neighborhood too. In the meantime, we’ll finish checking the daycares. If we don’t find anything, four o’clock is the deadline for the local evening news broadcast. We’ll release Lia’s picture to the public then. I have a local station and the local papers meeting us at the station at three-thirty.”

  “Your station will be swamped with calls for at least twenty-four hours once her picture is released.” Jolene reached to open the passenger door of his sedan but he grabbed the latch first and held it open for her.

  “I’ve made arrangements to have a few part-time officers from neighboring districts help out with phone calls for the next forty-eight hours.” He watched Jolene lift her legs into the vehicle then blinked to refocus. “Their forces are also strapped with the influx of summer tourists but a few officers were willing to forgo a second day off to help us out. Hopefully they never have a scenario where we’ll need to return the favor, but if they do, we’ll be there.”

  “I hear you.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I lift my face to the sun and expand my lungs with the sea breeze. I love bike riding. Even more than walking. I think it’s the most refreshing form of travel. And in a seaside town I’m invisible among the many.

  Chi-ching sounds behind me and I move to the right and allow a family of five to ride by. I laugh at the father who tries to impress his following by riding without holding on to the bike handles. The boardwalk is too uneven for the trick, however. He nearly loses his balance and awkwardly gains control before he tumbles.

  I shake my head at his stupidity but I laugh just the same and slow down, watching the children lift their hands from their bike handles for a quick second. They tried to accomplish what their father hadn’t been able to do.

  What is it about the sea air that brings out the child in everyone? It seems everyone rents bikes when they stay in Cape James. It isn’t a cheap pastime but for twenty dollars an hour they relive part of their childhood. They love it and I love that they do. I can cruise any street while riding my vintage 1970 Schwinn five-speed without turning heads. No one notices me and that’s so freeing.

  I peddle faster and zoom by the family of five.

  A minute later, a gust carrying an icy chill and particles of sand pelts my uncovered arms and I slow my pace.

  Placing the girl on the water, the way Jochebed, Moses’ mother, had done with him, had been the right thing to do. The child was saved from serving a demon for a lifetime, as I had hoped.

  Even if she had died she’d be better off.

  Lightening flashes over the gray sea off to my right.

  I draw another long, deep breath and inhale the storm heading toward shore.

  It’s time to head home. There is still work to be done. I need to deal with the one who kidnapped the child in the first place.

  Only then will I truly be free.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  A weather front headed out to sea ran up the eastern seaboard instead, hit a low-pressure area at two p.m. and shifted suddenly, taking an easterly turn. By three-thirty p.m. it was directly over Cape James and swept onto shore with wild gusts and driving rain. The news conference planned for on the courthouse steps was now a washout. Norris had no choice
but to move it down the block into the police station. The small lobby of the Cape James Police Station quickly became a zoo gone mad.

  Standing in the den with Jolene by his side, Norris watched Ted try to control the situation while local television, radio and newspaper personnel shook off their rain-soaked slickers and battled for floor space. The mayor and city council had suspended their decision on Ted’s disciplinary actions until next week because of the shortage of manpower.

  Today the mayor and some council members stood behind the railing off to the side watching the scene unfold.

  Sandy and Pickett scrambled to roll up every industrial carpet they had in the place and laid them out in the lobby to prevent people from slipping on the slick wood floor. They even borrowed a couple of mats from the pizza shop across the street. Meanwhile a borrowed 911 operator from Newport helped with incoming calls.

  The noise level was almost deafening and didn’t help ease the tension building in his forehead. Norris turned his back to the scene and drew a deep breath. He hated being in front of the cameras. This part of the job he’d gladly hand off to Ted who seemed to enjoy acting as the delegate for the Cape James force. But Ted wasn’t the one in charge of this case and he wasn’t the one the news people wanted information from. They wanted him, the chief.

  He exhaled slowly.

  “You look very”—Jolene leaned against the kitchen counter, holding a warm cup of tea and flashed him a smile—“official.”

  He’d seen her nervous swallow and wondered if “official” was the word she had intended to say. Had she meant to say something more personal? For a second, thinking she admired what she saw took his mind off the sea of vultures pounding the walls of his gut.

  “You can say it. I look as if I’m about to face a firing squad.”

  She laughed. “You’ll do fine.”

  “You must be used to this kind of thing?” He lifted his chin, stretching his neck, trying to get some air past the fastened button and tie circling his neck like a noose. He stared down at her. “I don’t have a lot of details to give them.”

  The reporters who could see them watched Norris and Jolene with speculative glances.

  Mark Branka, wearing an expensive looking raincoat over his business suit, slipped in through the front door on the tail of yet another cameraman. He wore a stylish pair of the L sneakers that he sold as part of the cycling enthusiasts’ line. Probably afraid to get his Italian loafers wet.

  Norris watched the man make a beeline toward the mayor and council members. Everyone wanted to know firsthand what Norris was about to share.

  “You’re not providing them with answers.” Jolene drew his attention again. “You’re stating the facts as you know them and are asking the public for help in gathering further leads.”

  “We haven’t had any leads yet.” He frowned.

  “We’ve had possibilities and checked them out.”

  She was right, but... “True enough. Still, that won’t stop them from asking questions I don’t have answers for.”

  “Give them the normal lines.”

  “What are those?” He’d never had to do this before.

  Laying a hand on his arm, she smiled. “Tell them, because this is an on-going investigation, you cannot share details of the case. At this time, you’re asking for help in pinpointing where the child might’ve been sighted in the area and with whom.”

  Ted rushed into the den. “They’re ready for you, Chief.”

  He nodded to Ted and then inhaled again. “The sooner I get this over, the sooner I can get back to work.”

  “It’s part of the job,” Ted reminded him.

  “You’ll do fine.” Jolene’s eyes shifted to the lobby.

  He turned and saw that Carter had entered the lobby—the last person he wanted to witness his on-camera interview debut. “What’s he doing here? I thought he left this morning after the results came in.”

  Jolene shrugged. “I did too.”

  Carter kept a low profile, skirted the media and swiftly made his way to the den.

  “SA Carter.” Jolene set her cup down and took the lead. “We thought you headed home this morning.”

  He pulled a handkerchief from inside his breast pocket and dabbed the rain from his face and then smoothed the cloth back over his hair. “I decided to stay a day or two in case you needed some help.”

  Norris didn’t like the way the Fed’s eyes lingered on Jolene as he spoke.

  “We’ll be fine,” Norris stated flatly. “Shouldn’t you be working the Burgess case?”

  “I can work from anywhere.” He slipped out of his coat and hung it over the back of a plastic chair edging the wall. “Man, the skies opened up as if someone unzipped the clouds.”

  “Would you like some hot coffee?” Jolene offered.

  “Yeah, help yourself. To coffee,” Norris added.

  “Thanks, I will.”

  Jolene shot Norris a warning glance before she turned.

  Norris didn’t care for the way the Fed watched Jolene pour his drink.

  “Chief,” Ted interrupted him, touching his shoulder and bobbing his head toward the media. “We’ve got to do this now if they’re going to meet their deadlines.”

  “All right.”

  The questions started the moment Norris walked into the lobby. He ignored the cries for information until he stood behind the podium Pickett had borrowed from the mayor’s office. He waited until the group grew quiet before he started with the short speech he’d mentally prepared. He laid out the facts he knew: where, when and by whom Lia had been found. He conveyed her condition and the fact that so far no one had come forward to claim her. He also quickly revealed the DNA test results which eliminated Lia as the missing child of a northern Virginia family whose child had gone missing over a year ago. When he was through, hands shot up and questions flew from many directions. He put up his hands and quieted the small but hungry crowd. “One question at a time. Jones, you’re first.”

  “Where is the girl now?” the journalist from the Cape James Record asked.

  “In a safe location.” He pointed to the next reporter.

  “Has the FBI been notified?”

  “Special Agent Carter of the FBI was contacted when it was thought the child could be the missing Burgess girl.” There was no need not to use Darren and Bonnie Burgesses’ names. They had already spoken to reporters this morning before leaving Cape James.

  “Is he still working the case?”

  “Since we don’t know if the child has crossed state lines, I remain in charge of the case, but Federal agencies have offered their help.”

  “What are they doing?” Another reporter called out.

  “They’re using their resources to check DNA on all open cases of children abducted in the last two years.”

  “Two. Is that how old the child is?” another reporter asked.

  “We believe so.”

  “You said agencies,” another newsperson shouted. “What agency besides the FBI are involved?”

  He glanced at Jolene. She and Carter had followed him as far as the den’s archway. Now they stood behind Ted who guarded the den’s entry with his feet spread and his arms folded across his burly chest. Norris wasn’t sure Jolene wanted to be identified as part of the team working the case. The reporters had seen her there this morning and now she stood only a few feet away. There was no doubt some had questioned her part in all this. His questioning gaze held hers.

  She dipped her head slightly, giving him permission to acknowledge her involvement.

  “U.S. Marshal Martinez has been immersed with the investigation from the start since she was the one who found and rescued the girl on the ocean.”

  Heads turned toward Jolene and Carter, and a few cameras clicked. Jolene brushed a hand through her hair and leaned back against the wall, using Carter as a shield from the cameras.

  It seemed she didn’t want her picture taken and again he wondered what her job function was with the U.S. M
arshals.

  Norris held up a large picture of Lia and drew everyone’s attention back to him with his next statement. “At this time we’re not certain if the child is missing or if her guardians are the ones who are missing.”

  “Do you think that’s the reason they haven’t come forward?”

  “Are you thinking foul play?” another asked.

  “How did the girl get to be floating on the ocean?”

  The questions came at him like rapid fire. Norris put up his hands, refusing to say anything until the group quieted. “We need to look at all possibilities and that is why we’re asking for the public’s help.”

  He held up Lia’s picture again and told the group: “We need to know if anyone knows this little girl or has seen her in the area this week. If you have, please call this hotline number: 555-757-0000.”

  Five minutes later, the bright lights from the cameras clicked off and Norris stepped down from the makeshift stage. Hopefully they would receive good intel from this circus.

  The local T.V. news station reporters and their cameramen packed up in record time, hoping to edit their video in time for the five o’clock news. In this digital age, they’d make it.

  Norris told Sandy to tell the others to prepare for calls.

  After answering a few more questions for the local paper, he walked back into the den to find Carter helping Jolene into her rain coat. Jolene smiled at him. So did Carter, but his smile was smug.

  “You did great, Chief. You were firm and showed you cared,” Jolene said, slipping her arm into a sleeve.

  She called him “Chief,” not Norris which was a definite sign their relationship had taken a step backward.

  “Where are you going?” He wanted to tell Carter to move away from Jolene but he didn’t have that right.

  “We thought we’d have an early dinner and share war stories.” Carter shrugged into his own overcoat.

  What the hell? They were leaving just when there might be a break in the case? Norris’ molars gnashed together and then he reminded himself Lia’s case wasn’t theirs. Certainly not Carter’s. It was his. And until that moment, he’d thought Jolene considered herself his partner.