While You Were Sweeping

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While You Were Sweeping Page 2

by Christy Barritt


  With a grim expression, his dad finally nodded and raised his hand in a gesture of peace. “I’ll call the police for you. We can put this all to rest.”

  “I . . . I have proof.” Riley remembered, excitement zinging through him.

  “What kind of proof?” His mom wrung her hands together.

  Riley found the photo on his phone and showed everyone the picture he’d taken.

  “That’s a shoe, Riley,” Sophia said, her voice soft and compassionate.

  He shook his head, fighting frustration. “It fell out of the rug when Mr. Parksley dragged the body from the house.”

  Everyone stared at him like he was losing it.

  Riley sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He sounded crazy. Even he couldn’t deny that. But he wasn’t crazy. How could he make everyone see that?

  “There was blood on the floor inside Mr. Parksley’s home,” he continued, wishing he’d gotten a photo of that. Then maybe everyone would believe him.

  “Did you go inside?” His dad’s words sounded overly careful, and he appeared apprehensive as he stared at Riley. He sat in a kitchen chair that had been pulled close to the couch, leaning toward him and watching his every move carefully.

  This home used to be comforting with its vanilla scent that lingered in the air and warm family pictures spread across the walls. Not anymore. He felt like a foreigner in a strange land being up here in Northern Virginia again.

  Riley had to convince everyone that he wasn’t being irrational. “No, I looked in the window.”

  “You were looking into our neighbor’s house?” His mom’s face went pale as she wrung her hands together again. “You can’t do that, Riley. Someone’s going to call the police on you.”

  Riley held up his phone again, aggravated—an emotion that was becoming all too common—at the lack of progress. “I’ll call the police myself.”

  His dad raised his hand in that overly calm manner he was known for. “No, no. I’ll do it. Everyone just needs to relax. We’ll get this taken care of.”

  Riley watched as his father dialed the number, put the phone to his ear, and then wandered out of the room. Riley knew he’d gone out of earshot so he could explain to the dispatcher that his son had a brain injury and could be delusional.

  Heat washed through Riley at the realization. He hated feeling weak and incapable. Even worse, he hated feeling sorry for himself.

  They’ll see that I’m not losing my mind. Riley couldn’t wait to prove to them that he was more adept than they assumed.

  CHAPTER 5

  At eleven that night, someone knocked at the door. By then, Riley had drunk some water, eaten a turkey sandwich, and remained under everyone’s watchful eye. It was like his family was afraid he might fly off the handle or do something irrational at any minute. Nothing would make him feel better except people realizing his claims were valid.

  A wrinkled detective with bushy white hair and circles under his eyes stepped inside the house and introduced himself as Detective Gray. He took a seat on the couch while the family gathered around him.

  This was the moment when Riley’s family would realize he was telling the truth. Maybe he’d be able to regain some sense of his dignity. Maybe the feeling of unease would dissipate from his gut, from his tortured thoughts.

  “I wanted to give you an update on your call,” the detective said, his eyes volleying around the room until he connected gazes with each person. “We paid a visit to your neighbor, Wayne Parksley.”

  Riley held his breath, waiting for what he’d say next.

  The detective’s eyes fell on Riley. “I think you’ll all be happy to know that things are well at the house, and there was no sign of foul play.”

  Riley stood up, alarm charging through him. “I know what I saw!”

  His dad pulled him back down. “Just listen.”

  “We searched the house—Mr. Parksley was very open to helping us,” Detective Gray continued. “There was no blood or any other signs that a crime happened there. I also searched our records and discovered Mr. Parksley is not a registered gun owner.”

  “But I heard a gun!” Riley said. He could feel the blood pumping through him, feel the urgency in each heartbeat.

  The detective shrugged slowly. “Perhaps the sound was a car backfiring. You wouldn’t be the first one to get the two sounds confused. It happens quite often.”

  Riley pushed away his aggravation and glanced at the detective. “Did you ask about the rug?”

  Detective Gray nodded, and Riley saw that look in his eyes. Pity. Riley had seen it a lot lately. “Mr. Parksley was taking a load of items to a local thrift store. One of those items was a rug. There was also a bag of shoes. One of them must have fallen out.”

  Riley shook his head, which now pounded like a hammer. “No . . . “

  The detective pulled his lips in a thin line before saying, “I appreciate your vigilance, but it looks like this was all a misunderstanding. Mr. Parksley is an upstanding member of this community.”

  “Let me guess: He even supports the local fraternity of police,” Riley muttered.

  “Riley!” His mom gasped, her hand rushing over her heart.

  As Riley saw the astonishment in everyone’s gaze, he backed off. He needed to sleep, to really think things through. Until he got his emotions in check, he’d never get anywhere.

  But he knew what he’d seen and heard, even if no one else believed him.

  CHAPTER 6

  Even after a week had passed, the incident at Mr. Parksley’s house kept replaying in Riley’s head. Something had happened at his neighbor’s that day. Riley didn’t know what exactly that was, or how the crime had been covered up so quickly, or where the gun had come from, but something went down.

  No one believed Riley. In fact, everyone looked at him like he was losing it. He saw the sympathy in their eyes. Even worse was when he saw the fear in people’s gazes, especially his mom. She feared that something was seriously wrong with her son—that he’d never go back to being the way he used to be. Riley had been through a lot, but so had everyone who loved him. They’d all been victims in their own way.

  “You okay, cuz?” Sophia asked.

  Riley snapped his gaze toward her and nodded. He’d gone to church this morning with her instead of his parents. His folks had too many friends who knew what happened, which meant there were too many people at their church who patted him on the back and looked at him with that somber expression in their eyes. He couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Yeah, I’m just taking everything in,” he said, casting one last glance around the sanctuary as people filed out. The place was still decorated for Christmas, which had taken place two weeks ago. Nothing about Riley had felt festive, though. Not being up here without Gabby.

  At least he’d been able to hang out with Sophia today, despite his melancholy thoughts. She always cheered him up with her sunny disposition. She was gentle, sweet, and one of the most nonjudgmental people he knew. They were only four months apart, and growing up, Sophia and her younger sister Olivia had felt like sisters. Sophia currently lived in an apartment only ten minutes from Riley’s parents. It had been good to reconnect with her since he’d been back.

  “How’d you like the service?” Sophia asked as they stepped into the lobby area.

  “I have to say, it was refreshing.” The sermon had been on the sanctity of life and how people need to treasure each day. He’d learned a lot about that himself. He had to admit that there were days when he didn’t want to go on. He tried to pray himself through it, but he wondered if he needed something beyond prayer. Maybe his whole problem was that now that his faith was being tested, he was failing big time. Perhaps he’d been a fair weather Christian all along.

  Whenever he went to church, it also made him miss Gabby. A highlight of his week had always been attending services with her and discussing the sermons afterward. Gabby always had a unique, honest perspective on things that he’d come to appreciate. She’
d been more than his fiancé; she’d been his best friend.

  “Riley Thomas?” someone called.

  Riley paused before stepping outside and turned toward the voice. A figure from his past stood a few feet away. “Todd Andrews?”

  His old high school friend grinned and stepped closer. The man had bulked up since their teen years, but otherwise he still looked the same. He had light brown hair cut close, a square jaw that seemed superhero worthy, and a wide-open expression that screamed “extrovert.”

  He grabbed Riley’s hand and offered a hardy shake. “Good to see you, man. What a surprise.”

  “Yeah, what’s it been? Ten years?”

  “Since graduation, I’d say. You back in town?” His gaze flickered over Riley’s shoulder and remained there a moment.

  Riley shrugged. “For a little while, at least.”

  His gaze came back to Riley. “Last I heard you were practicing law. Are you still?”

  Heaviness pressed on Riley’s shoulders. Answering these questions never seemed to get easier.

  “Taking a little break right now.” Riley left it at that, not wanting to go into too many details. “How about you? What are you up to?”

  Todd pulled his gaze from over Riley’s shoulder again. “I was in the Navy for eight years. Now I own my own mixed martial arts studio. It’s probably about twenty minutes from here. You should come check it out.”

  Riley nodded. “Maybe I will.”

  “Seriously, there’s no better stress relief. We could all use that, right?”

  Riley wondered if his doctor would approve. Maybe he would find out. The idea had its merits.

  Sophia cleared her throat beside him, and Riley snapped back to reality. He was being rude.

  “Oh, by the way, this is my cousin Sophia. Sophia, this is my old friend Todd.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” he told her with a warm smile.

  Sophia’s eyes glowed in return. “Same here.”

  “You should both come check out the place. First week’s on me.” He pulled out two cards and handed one to each of them. “I mean it. Plus, it would be nice to catch up.”

  Riley glanced at the card. The studio was less than a half a mile from his parents’ place. That might actually be doable.

  They said goodbye and Riley glanced at Sophia. Her gaze lingered on Todd as he flipped his keys in the air and stepped outside.

  “He seems interesting,” she said.

  “Yeah, he is. He seems like he’s doing well. I’m happy for him.”

  Todd had been a wrestling champ in high school and seemed like an all-around nice guy. He’d come from a rough background, but he’d risen above the low expectations other people had for him. It would be nice to catch up with him sometime.

  “Want to grab some lunch?” Sophia asked, pulling her gaze away from Todd.

  Riley nodded. “I do. But there’s somewhere I want to stop first, if you don’t mind.”

  ***

  “The thrift store? Really, Riley?” Sophia sighed.

  Riley nodded. “I’m not working right now. I need to be frugal.”

  She stared at him like she didn’t believe him. And for good reason. He had come here with ulterior motives.

  The thrift store was only ten minutes from his house. If Mr. Parksley really had taken a load of items to be donated, this was the only location close enough to work within the time frame.

  That meant that Mr. Parksley’s items should be here. Better yet was the fact that this thrift store was independent, run by a local women’s shelter. Other stores might send donations to a central processing location to be divvied up among various stores. Everything donated here should stay here.

  “Oh, look at that purse!” Sophia’s eyes widened with delight. “Is that a Coach bag?”

  She wandered away, which gave Riley a moment to ask some questions without scrutiny.

  Perfect.

  He took a step and paused as the song playing on the overhead switched from something unrecognizable to “We’re Not Going to Take It.” His heart twisted with bittersweet memories. The song instantly made him think of Gabby and he could clearly hear her singing it in his mind.

  So many things made him think of Gabby. Zany T-shirts, flip-flops, musicals . . . crimes. When would this ever get easier?

  He shoved aside those thoughts as he paced to the front desk and offered his brightest smile to the employee standing there. “Excuse me. I’m looking for a rug. A good sized one for my bedroom. Maybe eight by ten. Do you have any of those?”

  The older woman at the counter pushed her bright pink glasses up higher on her nose and studied Riley a moment. Finally, she shook her head. “Nope, sure don’t.”

  “Are you sure?” Her answer seemed too quick, too easy.

  “Yep, I’m sure. We keep all of the furniture and other items like that in the far left corner. If you don’t believe me, you can go check for yourself.”

  Riley had a feeling that this woman knew everything that went on at this store. “Do you have rugs donated often?”

  “Nope, can’t say we do. Can’t remember the last time we had one in here, for that matter.”

  “Have you worked here long?”

  She nodded. “Yep. Eight years. Every day. That shelter saved my life. I’ve worked here ever since then. I’ve been looking for a rug myself, so I would have noticed if one came in.”

  “Certainly you don’t work every shift, though. Someone else could have been here when it came in and sold maybe?”

  “Welp, I suppose Robin could have been working.”

  Riley’s hopes soared again. “Do you know when she’ll be working again?”

  “Nope. She’s been out sick all week.” The woman stared at him, not offering any other help.

  Spontaneously, Riley grabbed a pen and business card from the counter and jotted down his cell phone number. “When she comes back in, could you ask her to call me? It’s important.”

  “This is all about a rug for your bedroom?” The woman was obviously on to him, and for good reason. This was a strange way to shop for a used rug, especially when there were plenty of other thrift stores around.

  He shifted. “Someone I know said they dropped off a rug here, and this particular piece of carpet actually means a great deal to me. I know it sounds sentimental, but I’d really like to purchase the rug. I’ve got to locate it first.”

  The woman stared again and finally nodded. “Alrighty then. I’ll have her call you.”

  Riley tapped the counter with his knuckles and nodded. “Thank you for your help.”

  As far as he was concerned, Riley had just proven that Mr. Parksley was lying. Sure, he needed to confirm the information with Robin, but the chances that his neighbor had dropped off the rug and someone had immediately purchased it were slim.

  But what exactly had happened to that rug?

  CHAPTER 7

  After the visit to the thrift store, Riley and Sophia went to a deli just down the street to grab some lunch. Sophia, who probably weighed less than a hundred pounds, considered herself a foodie and often insisted on going to strange and unique restaurants. This one was fairly normal, if you excluded the Elvis Presley decorations that practically wallpapered the place.

  They sat at a table by the window, and Riley stared outside at the gray sky for a moment. Sometimes he felt like he’d blinked and life had changed. Being up here near D.C. felt surreal, like he’d been transported into a different life.

  “So, tell me about this Todd guy we ran into at church,” Sophia said as she popped a chip into her mouth.

  Riley looked away from the window, her question surprising him. “I went to high school with him. He always seemed like a good guy. He never did wrong by me, at least.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Did the two of you hang out in the same circles?”

  Riley shrugged. “I don’t know if I’d say that. I was more into cross country and academics.”

  She let out a soft hmm.


  “What?” Riley asked.

  She shook her head. “You weren’t the nerd you proclaim to be. As I remember, you were the golden boy without an enemy in the world, the one who could do no wrong.”

  “I don’t know about that. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in this life. More than I’d like to admit.”

  “We all have. That’s what makes life life.”

  He stared at Sophia another moment, deciding to change the subject. “Why are you asking about Todd?”

  She shrugged and took a sip from her bottle of vitamin water. “I was thinking about that martial arts class. It could be a good idea.”

  “Maybe we should check it out.”

  “My work schedule is crazy for the next couple of days. But maybe after that.” Sophia paused and frowned. Her expression easily gave away her thoughts.

  Riley knew the conversation wasn’t going to be pleasant. He’d known her since they were kids, and she always shifted uncomfortably before saying things she’d rather not say.

  “So, we haven’t talked about what happened at your neighbor’s house last week,” she started, using her napkin to wipe crumbs from her toasted tuna sandwich off her lips.

  Riley shrugged, his meatball sub not looking very appetizing anymore. “What’s there to say?”

  “It’s not uncommon for people with TBI to have episodes like that.”

  He’d come to hate the term TBI. He hated all of the labels people put on him. His therapist, Dr. Perkins, went especially overboard with her designations. He’d come to dread each time he had to meet with her. Somehow he always managed to feel worse afterward.

  “It wasn’t an episode,” he started, knowing his argument would be useless.

  Sophia frowned again, shoving the rest of her sandwich aside. “People are really worried about you, Riley. I even heard your parents talking about admitting you into the psych ward for a few days. I’m only telling you this because I don’t want to see that happen. I really don’t think you should push this.”

  He swallowed hard, getting her message loud and clear. If he wanted to continue with his recovery and receive favorable reports, he had to pretend he hadn’t heard that gunshot. People thought he was going crazy, and he wasn’t doing himself any favors by harping on it.

 

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