Maddie Ann s Playground

by Mackenzie Drew

  “Has anyone seen Baker?” he hollered as he wandered the hall.

  “I just saw him go into his office, Detective,” an officer said.

  Sergeant Baker had the phone to his ear while sitting in his leather chair. Waving Tom into his office, he hung up the phone. “So, what can I do you for, Detective Brown?” he asked.

  “I want to know why you went ahead and gave Carter the okay to dig up the ground out there, when you were fully aware that we haven’t finished the investigation?” he shouted. “I need to be there. How much are they tearing up?”

  Sergeant Baker, head of the uniformed officer squad, got to his feet defensively. “Hold your shorts, Bud. They had orders to start digging on the west end, that’s all. They're moving coffins today. The demolition is not anywhere near the part you’re investigating,” he explained, trying to cover his ass.

  “It better not be, because your blunder could destroy my evidence. I guarantee it, you’d better hope like hell my crime scene remains intact or else you'll have one pissed off guy on your hands. Trust me; I'll have your damned job.” Tom stormed out of Sergeant Baker's office, slamming the door.

  His crew never thoroughly covered the scene because of darkness last night, and if by some chance there might have been some clue they missed to discover the fate of the teenagers, well...it was gone now. He knew they had to tear down those gates first, and the area surrounding the gates was of prime importance in this case. He’d found Jennifer there, and where Claire had met her fate. If they ruined his case, there'd be hell to pay.

  Turning to leave, he spotted Jake out in the hall. “They started demolition on the cemetery already. I’m going out there to look around. They had better not tear up my crime scene or there will be repercussions from higher up than me. The balls of that guy,” Tom complained. “The lieutenant is not gonna like this one bit. Sheesh.”

  “Good Lord, boss. I'm sorry,” Jake said. “Want me to go with you?”

  “Naw, I can handle it. Hey, did you make it out to the school yet?” Tom asked, thoroughly ticked off and feeling the steam escape from his ears.

  “I went out there, but they want me to come back an hour before school gets out. They agreed to have some of Claire and Jennifer's school chums in the principal's office and will have more free time to talk, so they say,” Jake replied, shrugging his shoulders. “They didn't want me 'disrupting' school. Like a bunch of murders isn't disruptive?” Jake snorted.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” Tom did not want to hear this. From his observation, no one took this case seriously.

  “No, I'm dead serious; that’s what they said. So now I’m wasting time running back out there when I need to be keeping surveillance on Mrs. Barton,” he explained.

  “She isn’t going anywhere. I’m sure you'll run into her somewhere around town,” Tom said. “I'll touch base with you in a couple of hours when I get back. Radio me if you find out anything at the high school.”

  Grabbing up a few items he needed, he walked out and got in his car.

  ***

  It was such a lovely evening, no clouds in the sky, with a cool autumn wind that blew across their faces. The sun already started to set behind the ridge west of town. The only thing missing was Jennifer to complete the family outing. Getting into the car, she happened to notice the Catholic Church a half block away from McDonald’s, which reminded her of something she needed to do.

  “Hey, take me over to see Father Donovan at St. Theresa's,” she said.

  “Why on earth would you want to go see him?” he asked.

  “Well, the other night, he came to our house in the wee hours of the morning. He told me Jennifer had been to see him after she left the hospital. I need to talk to him some more.”

  Pulling out of the restaurant parking lot, he headed toward the cathedral with a distant look on his face. “When were you going to include me in this, Cindy?” he asked staring at the road. “She's my daughter, too.”

  “I meant to tell you. We’ve been fighting so much, it slipped my mind until now.” As soon as he parked, she got out; assuring him, she wouldn’t be too long.

  “Hey, I'm coming, too,” he said. “You should've awakened me when Father Donovan showed up in the middle of the night.”

  “Well, come on then. I didn’t wake you because it didn't seem important at the time and you needed your sleep. Quit your complaining and don't start in on me again,” she warned, giving him a dirty look.

  Approaching the front doors, Father Donovan greeted them as they entered the wide double doors, like he expected them. “Well, Mr. and Mrs. Cravens, it’s a pleasure seeing you at St. Theresa's. What can I help you with?” he asked.

  “Can we talk to you for a minute, Father?” Cindy asked.

  “Of course, come into my office.”

  Walking down the isle through the chapel, Cindy realized it had been awhile since they went to church. With their lives in such turmoil, there had been no time for anything. Cindy stopped to light a candle for Jennifer. Taking the back hallway to his study, they stood in the entryway looking in.

  “Won’t you come in?” He motioned them to sit down.

  “The reason I’m here is to talk to you about Jennifer. Now I know you said you’d get back with me, but it’s been four days and the police haven’t found her. I’m desperate, Father. We’ve got to find her,” she cried.

  “I have no news for you. I haven't seen Jennifer since the day she showed up here with her absurd hallucinations. As I have said before, this is not a police matter. You know it’s not going to do them any good, and you know what I mean,” he replied, sounding rather sinister.

  Steve’s face turned red. He couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. “Wait a damn minute here, Donovan. What do you mean not a police matter? They had better find my little girl. And you better tell me what you’re talking about,” Steve roared. “What hallucinations? Do you know where she is?”

  “Calm down, Honey, I’ll explain it to you at home,” Cindy insisted, embarrassment turning her cheeks red.

  “No, I won't calm down. I sense some collusion between the two of you, and neither of you will explain it. I can’t believe you’re acting so calm about this, when our daughter is out there somewhere with God knows who,” he shouted.

  The louder Steve became, his voice began to carry throughout the halls of the church. As Jennifer huddled there in the dark, her father’s voice carried. “Daddy!” she whispered. Her heart began to sing, urging her toward the sound. With only her left hand usable, she struggled to loosen the rope the priest had tied around her ankles.

  She fell to the floor, banging her sore rib cage against the concrete surface. Biting on her bottom lip, she wiggled her way to the door, finally kicking the ropes aside, and managed to pry it open a crack. Thinking quickly, Jennifer put her back toward the wall, and pushed, sliding her way up the rough surface, helping her to stand on her feet.

  She stood there a minute as a wave of dizziness passed. As she squeezed through the opening and made her way through the hallway, a glare of light shined off the floor. Voices came from the room with the light. She heard her mother’s voice. She tried to call out but her throat wouldn't work right. Her leg muscles gave out on her, and all she managed was a few pitiful squeaks as she slumped against the wall.

  “Well, Father Donovan, I’m sorry we’ve taken up your time, I guess we’ll go home and wait for your call,” Cindy said.

  “No problem, anytime you need me, you know where to find me,” he replied.

  From out of nowhere, they heard a strange squeaking noise coming from down the hall. Father Donovan jumped out of his seat. “Could you excuse me a moment? I think one of the staff members needs me. If you could stay put for a second, I’ll be right back.”

  Rushing out of the office, he hustled down the hall as fast as his injured body allowed. Coming around the corner, sure enough, there stood Jennifer, slumped against the wall. Father Donovan clapped his hand over her mouth an
d dragged her back to her concrete prison.

  This time, he tied the rope tighter and locked the door, making sure there would be no more escaping. Trussed like a turkey and lying on the bed engulfed in pitch-black silence, Jennifer began weeping.

  “Shhhhh…if you make another sound, I’ll kill you myself,” Donovan said before exiting the room.

  Father Donovan walked back in his office, apologized for the delay, and took a seat as though nothing happened. Steve, on the other hand, got up and walked out into the hallway. The thought of this man deciding his daughter’s fate made him ill. Reclining against the wall, he watched through the doorway as his wife and the priest talked about Jennifer. Laughter rang out during their conversation.

  “The nerve of them,” he raged, “Where the hell is their concern for her?”

  Making small talk for another few minutes, Cindy stood up from the chair, and headed into the hall to join Steve, who tapped his foot with impatience. With laughter on her breath, she put all her faith into this man who supposedly took the Lord as his savior. He'd given up on God when he left the Watsons. She turned to her husband and taking hold of his hand, slowly walked toward the double doors.

  ***

  Father Donovan strolled out into the hallway to see the Cravens off. Once they left, he rushed toward the room to have a word with Jennifer. He removed the lock and placed it to the side. He then turned on the bright overhead light, blinding her.

  “Well, you just about blew my cover, young lady. But thank goodness I heard you coming in time. So you won't get another chance to do it again, I’m taking you away from here, where no one will find you.” Blinking her bruised, exhausted eyes, the tears streamed unheeded down her face. “You'll never see your parents again, so accept it.”

  Subdued and resigned to her fate, Jennifer’s body lifted from the bed as he carried her out the door. The early evening hours had settled in over the town, giving her only a few more hours of daylight before the dreaded ending that awaited her.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Trees smacked the ground as machines ate the earth in huge bites. When the men spotted a coffin, they attached a cable around the box and a pulley system lifted it from the ground. Detective Tom Brown stepped in front of the small crane, waving his arms. “Hey, Mac, turn it off,” he shouted at the driver.

  The driver took his foot off the throttle and the machine ground to a halt, the dirt-encrusted box hanging in midair. “What can I do for you, sir?” he asked, looking irritated at the interruption.

  “This place looks like a dang construction site.”

  “They ordered us to exhume these graves,” he explained.

  “Who approved it?” Brown asked.

  “Captain Carter. He said we have two days before the Feds move in.”

  “Why is the FBI getting involved?”

  “I don't know, sir, except I overheard Captain Carter talking to Sergeant Baker, saying something about interstate transportation of a minor. That's all I know.” The man shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve got to get back to work, buddy.” He started the engine and the roar almost knocked Tom off his feet.

  Ticked off, Tom headed for his car as he reached for his cell phone. Somebody would pay for this. “This is all a bunch of BS,” he snarled dialing the station.

  The worker shook his head, and resumed plowing through the earth.

  “Stacy speaking.”

  “Stacy, this is Detective Brown. Where the hell is Sergeant Baker?” From the level in his voice, the entire police department must have heard him.

  Nonplussed, she replied, “I don’t know sir, let me check. Hey, did you try his office?”

  “I’ve tried his lousy office, and he’s not in. Find him,” he demanded.

  Waiting for someone to pick up the receiver, another tree fell to the ground.

  “Hey, that missed my car by a hair! Watch what the hell you’re doing there, Jack, or get off the damn thing.” The man couldn't even hear him over the rumble of the bulldozer's engine.

  He got in his car and shut out the noise when he slammed the heavy sedan's door. Growing impatient, he started to hang up the phone when he heard a clicking noise on the other end.

  “Yeah, whaddya want?” Baker asked.

  “What the hell are you thinking, Sergeant? There's a systematic demolition going on down here. Trucks and bulldozers are destroying my crime scene, like a three-ring circus.” Tom scrubbed his head, at his wit's end. Nothing was going his way, no matter how hard he tried.

  “A circus, is that what you said? Let me tell you something, you clown, I also have a job to do, and I’m not going to sit on my butt waiting for you to dink around and finish your job. I'm not going to put mine on hold while you’re out there goofing around looking for a bloody blade of grass,” he scolded.

  “If I could come through the phone, you wouldn’t have to worry about your butt, because I’d mow it down. You have managed to screw up my entire investigation, not to mention all or what’s left of the evidence we needed.” He hung up the phone in Baker's ear, determined to get the last word.

  Tom sank into the leather seat, heartsick. Everything he’d tried to do, Baker destroyed. Why would he try to continue, when nothing could help now? He couldn’t figure out the purpose of tearing up the grounds. It turned out all wrong. Being a detective to him meant finding out what happened to the remains of those girls and give the parents some closure. It did not mean to destroy crucial evidence. While tossing his phone onto the seat, a loud boom shook the ground. The workers scattered from the site, and the 'dozer operator leaped off his seat. Running to see what had happened; Tom witnessed an enormous crack swallowing much of the area, including the bulldozer. It leaned precariously, and then slid into a huge hole in the earth.

  “Hurry, everyone out!” yelled the supervisor.

  Frozen in awe as the ground rolled and shook beneath his feet, Tom removed his hat and watched as a huge hole sucked the ground in. Holy crap, what's next? he thought, scratching his head.

  After the quake passed, the place looked like a cyclone hit it. The tall oaks and the remaining headstones lay in the pit in the ground. The rusty wrought iron gates and fencing that secured the cemetery tumbled like Lincoln logs. Coffins unearthed and their contents scattered about on the ground. Tom never witnessed such a disaster in his life or on the job. The earth disgorged piles of soil and rocks then sucked them down again. He’d have to explain this to the lieutenant, and worse, to Chief Garcia? But he realized he didn’t authorize this screw-up, so Baker and Carter would have to take the fall.

  After he came out of the fascinated trance that held him captive, the safety of the men rang an urgent call in his brain. Jumping over the debris of the crumpled gates, he ran to help a man trapped under a pile of rubble.

  “Hey, can you hear me?” he shouted. No response. Digging into the pile with his bare hands, he lifted rocks and parts of trees off his limp body. “Someone, help me!” he cried.

  The supervisor ran over to help Tom as he tried to pull the man out. “Sid,” he yelled, scrambling to uncover more of the man's body. “I don’t think he made it, sir,” the supervisor said, shaking his head.

  “Damn it,” Tom shouted, “This is bullshit. Get on the radio and call for help. Hurry.” Tom stomped the ground in a circle, squeezing his head between both hands.

  If Baker had used his head instead of his butt, none of this would have happened. But as usual, this was the norm when Baker had control of major investigations. Like a bull in a china shop, he never planned anything, just dove in, with no concern for anyone else’s investigation or, in this case, safety. Tom stood dumbfounded, trying to grasp what had happened.

  Ten minutes later, sirens screamed down the dirt road. Two aid cars arrived and the men scrambled their equipment, trying to get to the victims in dire need of medical help. As Tom walked toward the ambulances arriving, Jake ran toward him. Arms in the air, he appeared in total shock.

  “What the hell happened
?” he asked, puzzled.

  “Man, you wouldn’t believe it if you saw it yourself,” uttered Tom. “An earthquake swallowed the whole graveyard and then puked it up again.”

  “Well, somebody just told the lieutenant about all of this. And Chief Garcia is pissed. I've never seen him so angry. Anyway, they reported the disaster to the department of geology. So brace yourself, they're on their way out here,” Jake told him.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me, right? What the hell did they go and do that for?” Tom hollered. “That's all I need, a bunch of geeks out here trampling whatever evidence that might remain. Well, that’s just great.” He crept toward his car, defeated.