Fade to the Edge

by Kathryn J Bain

  If Daniel thought he would get away with not paying the mortgage, he was wrong. She would not allow him to put her and her child out on the streets.

  Once done, the teller replaced the box. Tracy felt everyone’s eyes on her as she rushed from the bank holding her purse tight against her.

  “Everything go okay?” the police officer asked as he held the car door open for her.

  “Fine, thank you.” She climbed in.

  He didn’t ask any questions on their ride home. She was sure he wondered what she’d been doing.

  In front of her house, police cars lined the street along with a large white truck with the emblem for the Pinebrook County Sheriff’s Department. Two men sat inside. Officers were searching trash cans that lined the street waiting for the trash pickup. Why?

  Tracy’s stomach bounced. Don’t go there.

  Her phone rang as she got out of the car. A quick glance at her screen told her it was her sister.

  “Hey.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  “Where are you?” Jenny asked. “I called the police, but they said you left a while ago.”

  “We just arrived. DJ’s still not been found. I’m afraid Daniel’s got him somewhere.”

  “Have the police checked his office? What better place to hide him than a closed business.”

  “I didn’t think of that.”

  “Did the police hold you longer than they told me?”

  “I don’t think so.” Tracy walked off a few feet from everyone and lowered her voice. “I stopped at the bank to get the stocks from the safe deposit box.”

  “Why?”

  “To keep Daniel from getting them.”

  “How can you care more about money than your child right now?” An exacerbated breath came over the line. “Your top priority should be DJ.”

  “It is,” Tracy argued. “And if Daniel is planning to take off with him, he’ll need the shares to live off of.”

  “He’d have income from the insurance company. Why would he need the stocks?”

  “Here in Belmont, he has money, but what if he leaves the country? He’d lose all of his clients if they found out he kidnapped his son. There would go his business and income.”

  “And there’s no savings?”

  “No. And he’d eventually remember the bonds.”

  “It looks funny heading to the bank when your son is missing. You should’ve told the police about them.” Silence held over the line for a moment. “I was planning on coming over.”

  “The police are still hanging around. I’m not sure they’ll let you.” While she would love to have her sister there, Jenny appeared to be in one of her sanctimonious moods. Tracy didn’t need her sister telling her how stupid she was with everything else going on.

  “Let me know when.”

  “I will.” Tracy slid her finger over the phone.

  She didn’t care what anyone said. If Daniel planned to sneak away, he’d not do so without money.

  Inside the house, several officers wandered about. No one seemed to notice her, so she rushed to her bedroom where she slid the shares in her junk drawer in the walk-in closet. Who would suspect there was a fortune hiding among all her extra buttons along with other odds and ends?

  Eventually, Daniel would realize she had the stocks, and she’d be more than happy to give them up. As long as he gave her full custody of DJ.

  Chapter 15

  Jenny shoved her phone back on the charger. How irresponsible could her sister get? She paced in front of the large picture window. What will happen when the authorities find out she’d been the one to take care of DJ when he was born? Her poor little sister lying around in a fetal position all day while Jenny fed him, rocked him, and changed him. Even Daniel didn’t take time with the boy.

  But fathers got away with more than mothers. The police would surely point a finger at Tracy if they thought someone harmed DJ. Going to the bank only proved Tracy cared more about winning than her own son. Something else Daniel would use against her for custody.

  Didn’t that girl think?

  “Postpartum depression, my eye,” she muttered. Just Tracy being Tracy.” Her priorities were so skewed. “Fool.”

  Jenny stomped to the kitchen and flipped on the one-cup coffee maker. “Now they do nothing but put DJ in the middle of their issues,” she muttered. If it weren’t for her getting him out of that house, he’d never have had any peace. And then the marks on Tracy’s arms. It was only a matter of time until DJ had the same bruises.

  The phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and paused.

  “What’s going on?”

  She jumped at the sound of Dad’s voice behind her. Usually, she heard him shuffling into the room. She allowed the call to go to voicemail.

  “There’s nothing going on,” she said. “Just a bit miffed at Tracy. She’s doing some silly things right now when it comes to the divorce.”

  “And DJ?”

  “What about him?”

  “Don’t play coy with me. It’s all over the news. Why didn’t you tell me he was missing?”

  She swallowed back her trepidation. “I didn’t want to worry you.” Could this day get any worse? “I’m sure he’s fine and will be home before dinner.”

  “I need to get over there.”

  His “I” always meant “we” since he no longer drove.

  “I spoke to her a few minutes ago, and the police won’t let anyone near yet.” She patted his shoulder. “I’ll see if Gary can put pressure on someone.”

  Dad stared at her for a split second and then nodded.

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure DJ’s fine. Just wandered off somewhere and will be home soon.” She smiled trying to reassure him so he’d stay calm. The last thing she need was for him to suffer another stroke. But then, if anything happened to DJ, she’d likely not fare much better.

  Chapter 16

  DJ had been missing almost six hours now, and the police didn’t seem any closer to finding him than when they’d first started. Tracy sucked down a sob as she looked around her bedroom. Drawer’s in the dresser were askew and inside clothes were no longer folded. The police had gone out and gotten a warrant, not that it was needed. She had nothing to hide.

  It appeared they searched through everything, including her underwear. They’d even searched her bathroom cabinets. Her skin crawled from the violation.

  She walked over to the window. A man in a wetsuit skimmed across the top of the water in the back. Wet leaves surrounded the man-made pond. A handful of police officers looked into the water from the bridge. Two deputies stood on the edge, doing nothing. One turned fast and slipped on the wet leaves. Tracy jerked, wanting to reach out and grabbed him. Another cop caught him by the arm before he fell in.

  The murky water stirred her insides into a terrible pot of ugly emotions. Lately, life seemed to be kicking her in the teeth.

  Swenson walked in holding a travel mug and joined Tracy at the window. Coffee came off her breath more potent than the cinnamon gum from earlier.

  “DJ’s not in the pond.” Tracy put as much conviction behind the words to make them true. “He learned to swim last year.”

  The detective kept her focus out the window. “He might’ve gone over there anyway. It’s pretty slick, he might have slipped in.”

  The image of the blood in the suitcase bounced into Tracy’s mind like a subliminal message used in the movies.

  “Or if someone tossed him in after...” She sensed Swenson’s gaze on her, watching for any hint that might prove she’d harmed her son. But she had no reason to hurt DJ. Tracy turned on the detective. “Not someone. Daniel. You all think he hurt DJ for the insurance money, don’t you? If so, why don’t you arrest him?”

  “We have no idea at this point what’s happened to DJ.” Swenson kept her voice low. “Like I said before, the blood’s not DJ’s. Anything I said would only be speculation.”

  “Then speculate.”

  Swenson stared out the window, her eye
s narrow. “Let’s go with the friend cut himself angle. DJ tried to help clean it up in the pond. Boys do stuff like that.” A hint of a smile came over the detective’s face.

  “You have a son?” The harshness of Tracy’s tone disappeared.

  “Yeah.” Swenson’s grin softened her features. “Unlike my daughter, he’d never quit playing even if he got hurt. He’d try to fix it himself.”

  That sounded like DJ.

  “We’re hoping if something bad happened, he’s just scared to come home.”

  If something bad happened. Tracy repeated the detective’s words. Like what? She cringed and turned back to the pond. Could he have tried to help a friend and fallen into that cold, murky water?

  Tracy pictured DJ struggling to get out, then falling back in, under the darkness coughing, and yelling for help. Going under again and again, and all the while she slept comfortably in her nice, warm bed.

  A fist of trepidation lodged itself in her gut. She swallowed back the sour taste of bile so she wouldn’t throw up.

  Shoes tapped up the staircase. Tracy glanced over her shoulder as her best friend walked through the door.

  Vonnie Applegate never entered a room; she always made an entrance. Her straight black hair brushed against her almond-colored skin. She walked with her shoulders back and chin held high like a model on a runway. They’d been best friends since grade school. Vonnie was still as pretty today as in high school.

  Tracy introduced her to the detective.

  “I’m sorry you’re going through this.” Vonnie took Tracy in her arms.

  Vonnie’s perfume drifted into Tracy’s nostrils. Something sweet she didn’t know the name of, but no doubt was expensive. She fell against her best friend.

  “I’m surprised they let you in with everything going on,” Tracy said.

  “Mark plays golf with one of the officers.”

  “Ready to go?” Mark, Vonnie’s husband, stood in the doorway. He was as handsome as Vonnie was pretty. They would make Ken and Barbie jealous.

  “We made up some flyers from a picture we had,” Vonnie explained. “I stopped by to see how you were and if you wanted to go with us?”

  “I can’t. Not until I discover whether DJ’s in there.” Tracy nodded toward the pond.

  “I’ll wait with you.” She turned to Mark. “Why don’t we join you later?”

  He nodded and disappeared. It was like he knew Tracy needed his wife’s strength to get through this.

  Tracy and Vonnie stood hand in hand for what seemed like hours. Finally, an officer standing next to the pond waved in the window’s direction and shook his head.

  “DJ’s not in the water,” Swenson said.

  Vonnie released a loud breath and gave Tracy’s hand a squeeze, but Tracy felt little relief because if DJ wasn’t there, where was he?

  Chapter 17

  The toe of Myrna’s boot dug into the dirt. Soft. Good a place as any. She glanced over her shoulder at her living room window where she sat to read and watch television. Perfect spot. She shoved the tip of the spade into the dirt.

  An expensive black car came into sight. It slowed as it passed the cabin then turned into the drive.

  Myrna dropped the shovel and ducked.

  Daniel Allen. Great, leave it to him to have a liaison today when she had work to do.

  He pulled to the parking spots Esther had made for her family. He paused then backed out. At the end of the drive, he took a right toward the dead-end, the opposite way he’d come.

  What was he up to?

  Myrna backed behind a large fir tree and waited until he passed. She grabbed the shovel and darted across the street to her home.

  “Ginger, come on you. The body’ll keep for a few minutes longer.”

  “Meow.”

  “Don’t you worry. We’ll get him buried in due time.”

  “Mrrr.”

  She picked the cat up and headed to the shed in her backyard. The cat jumped from her arms and darted inside.

  “Get out you.”

  The smell overwhelmed her. She pulled Ginger out and carried her to the house. Sure the cat was secure, Myrna returned to click the padlock to the shed.

  Inside the house, she took a quick glance at the telephone answering machine. The amber light indicated there were no messages from the bank. Good thing there was enough food for the next couple of days, but her bills would be late.

  They hadn’t always been broke. Unfortunately, medical bills had taken their toll the past year.

  She twisted the knob on the stove to heat the kettle. The weather was getting chilly early this year. At least the cooler weather kept the hurricanes to a minimum. Not that most storms didn’t head to the gulf more than anywhere else.

  While she waited for the water to boil, she flipped on the television. A commercial about a car sale blared. She hit the volume button to mute the noise. The kettle whistled. She dipped the used chamomile tea bag from breakfast into the cup. Once steeped, she walked to her recliner and sat down.

  Daniel Allen had never taken the private drive before. Instead he’d park on the cement driveway when he brought one of his women up. The man definitely had a type. Blonde and young.

  More than once, she’d been tempted to tell Edward Braddock his son-in-law was playing footsy with a strange woman in that house. But Harold made it clear when they first noticed that it was none of their business.

  So, why was he not stopping this time?

  Ginger hopped up on Myrna’s lap, kneading her legs until he found a spot he was happy with.

  A local crime alert on the television had interrupted Judge Judy. The camera scanned an area with a two-story house and a Pinebrook County Sheriff’s car parked at the side of the road.

  “Why do they always break into the shows, never the commercials?” She patted Ginger’s head and received a low purr. “Most of the time it’s nothing important.”

  She unmuted the sound to the television.

  “… was reported missing earlier this morning,” the newsman was saying. “An anonymous source has informed us that the police found blood at the scene. They refuse to say whether it is the child’s. Earlier both parents were taken to the sheriff’s station and questioned but have since been released.” The man pressed something in his hear. “Please take a good look at this child’s face. If you have any information about this missing boy, contact the number at the bottom of your screen.”

  A young boy’s face popped up. The name DJ ALLEN was typed at the top of the screen along with the word MISSING in deep red. A phone number blinked off and on below his picture.

  Myrna bounced out of the chair, sending Ginger to the ground. Myrna glanced between the television and the window.

  Could that missing boy be why Daniel Allen was up here?

  Chapter 18

  Within an hour, Tracy had taped what felt like a hundred flyers to windows and electric poles. The sun finally broke through the clouds in welcome comfort. Hopefully, it was a sign that DJ would be home soon.

  “We’ve saturated this area,” Vonnie said. Most women were in flats, but Vonnie wore nothing less than three-inch heels. “We might want to head toward Panther Hill.”

  “Okay.” Tracy unbuttoned her coat. The exhaust from a passing truck smothered her.

  Mark left to retrieve a homework assignment from the house for their daughter to save the girl a failing grade.

  “Tracy.”

  She turned and saw Steve Levigne heading her way. Though he was at every Christmas party since she and Daniel had married, she’d never considered him more than an acquaintance. She wasn’t even fond of his television news program.

  “Gotta minute,” he asked.

  “I guess.”

  “You know I’m working with Channel 12 News.” Arrogance dripped from his voice. Did he actually think that was a big deal? It wasn’t like he had an audience the size of Jacksonville. “Do you have a second to talk about DJ?” he said. “The more information we get out,
the better.”

  She’d always hated being in the spotlight. Daniel was the one who loved the attention. But if it got DJ found, bring on the discomfort. She nodded for him to go ahead.

  Levigne pulled a microphone from his pocket. “This is Steve Levigne live from Hermosa in downtown Belmont with the mother of missing DJ Allen.” He turned and shoved the microphone into Tracy’s face. “We understand DJ was missing this morning,” he said. “Most of my viewers are wondering how you weren’t aware your child was gone until his father arrived.”

  “I-I had slept in.”

  “I understand you and your husband are in the middle of a contentious custody battle for little DJ. Are you hiding your son from your husband?”

  “What?” Tracy was aghast.

  “Who do you think you are?” Vonnie grabbed hold of Levigne’s arm, jerking the microphone out of Tracy’s face. “What type of newsman comes along and asks questions like that?”

  “I’m just doing my job.”

  “Only if your job is selling rubbish.”

  Levigne did a cut across his neck to a man seated across the street in a truck.

  Tracy hadn’t noticed the man or his camera before then.

  “You have some nerve coming up to the boy’s mother and treating her this way.” Vonnie stepped closer to him. “I don’t suppose you asked your good friend Daniel Allen those same questions.” When he didn’t respond, she continued. “I thought not. You’re good friends with Daniel. Are you helping him hide his son? When’s the last time you saw them?”

  “I never…” Levigne took a step back. “I had nothing to do with this.”

  “See how fun it is to have accusations tossed your way.” Vonnie stood with her hands on her hips. “Get out of here and leave Tracy alone before I start my own rumors.”

  Levigne stared at her for a moment then darted into traffic to the truck across the street.

  The crowd stood with their mouths open. Tracy didn’t know who stunned her more—Vonnie or Levigne.

  Vonnie looked at Tracy and shrugged. “What can I say? God put me here to tip over a few tables.”