by H K Christie
“That’s so cool.” She said with a gleam in her eyes. Claire opted for a wave, and a brief, “hello, how are you,” before she ushered Zoey out of the room and left.
Now that we were alone, I approached Martina’s bedside. Her head was bandaged in gauze, but her face was mostly untouched. “How are you feeling?”
Martina shrugged. “I have a wicked headache. I’m pretty tired and feeling banged up. The jerk kicked me in the ribs - same place he got me before.”
“What does the doctor say?”
“It’s just your run-of-the-mill concussion. I’ll be fine.”
“When will they let you out of here?”
“They want to keep me overnight, but I’m trying to negotiate an earlier release.”
“Maybe you should stay, just in case.”
“Well, the doctor should be back in an hour. We’ll see what she says.”
There was an awkward pause between the two of us. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was happy to see me. Maybe we were becoming friends. Before I could say anything, she started up again. “How was the memorial? Did you find out anything that would indicate somebody other than this Alonso character murdered Theodore Gilmore?”
I adjusted my stance, preparing to give her the full report. “I couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. From what I could tell, he’d never had any extramarital affairs. There were no dirty business deals gone wrong, and the records show a healthy financial status. No obvious reasons that anybody would want to kill him, other than his wife’s murky past. I still don’t know what the motive could be.”
“Have you found anything about who this Alonso person really is?”
“I talked to the arresting officer. Apparently his first name is Alonso, but he goes by Lonnie, last name, Ricci. He hasn’t been in the system for quite some time, but he did some petty stuff in his late teens and early 20s. After that, he seemed to clean up his act.”
“Is his DNA in the system?”
“Not yet, there’s a warrant for it now. He’ll have to give us a swab.”
“Good. I had a gun to his head, and he still wouldn’t give anything up about the Henleys.” She adjusted her bed to prop herself up. “Any updates on the remains found at Beth’s Pond?”
“Not yet, but it’s the weekend. I’m hoping to get dental records on Monday, then the ME can do a comparison.”
Martina deflated into her hospital bed.
“I’m sorry, this isn’t looking like it will have a happy ending.”
“I knew this was the most probable outcome. But…” Martina didn’t finish her thought.
I finished it for her. “But there was always a little hope that we would find her alive.”
“Exactly,” Martina said before she asked, “Anything new on the Henleys?”
“No, but I called my buddy at the FBI, who is working in Pennsylvania. He hasn’t gotten back to me yet, which isn’t really like him. He’s usually pretty responsive, I’ll follow up.”
I leaned back against the window sill and contemplated Martina’s situation. Her life was full.
“Is your life always like this?”
Martina cracked a smile. “Not all the time. You?”
“It’s not usually so complicated.”
“I’d say after all this is over, I’ll owe you a beer.”
Martina’s smile faded. “Not a beer. Maybe a coffee?”
“Not a drinker?”
She stiffened. “Actually, I’m an alcoholic. A recovering alcoholic. I’m nine months sober. Nine months ago I got into a car accident after drinking too much, and I almost died and almost lost my daughter and my job.”
The puzzle pieces were falling into place. Now it made sense why her boss was on her case about every little thing. “You have a sponsor?”
“Yep, Rocco. I don’t know what I would do without him.”
“It’s pretty brave. From what I’ve heard, it’s not easy to get sober.”
She shrugged. “It’s difficult, but I have a lot to fight for.”
I looked straight ahead at an unknown visitor approaching. There was something familiar about her, but I don’t think we’d ever met. She was tall and husky, with a lot of lines on her face. “Can I help you?”
“I’m just here to see my daughter.” I glanced over at Martina, who seemed surprised by the visit.
“Mom, what are you doing here?”
“I called the house and Zoey told me you were in the hospital. I wanted to see you, Martina.”
Martina eyed me, and something told me she wasn’t happy to see her mother. My phone buzzed inside my blazer, and I pulled it out. I glanced back up at Martina. “I gotta take this.” She waved me on, and I hurried out of the hospital room. “Hirsch.”
“Hey man, sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you. It’s been crazy with crime around here.”
“No worries. What did you find?”
“Well, it’s interesting that you called. I’m curious, why are you looking into the Henleys?”
“Did you find something?”
“I ran it up the chain and have been told I can’t discuss any potential investigations over the phone. Tell me, what’s the case you’re working, and how does it connect to Henley?”
I glanced around the hall. And mouthed a ‘yes.’ He had to have something. “It’s a doozy.” I explained to Callahan the web of connections between Alonso and the Henleys and Theodore Gilmore.
“If you can make it here to Pennsylvania, we could meet, and a friend of mine might be able to help you with some background. I’ll give you his number. Just give me a couple hours to let him know you’ll be calling.”
Callahan was too evasive to have come up empty-handed. “Thanks man, I totally owe you one.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
I stepped back toward Martina’s hospital room. She seemed to be having a somewhat-heated conversation with her mother. I figured I’d give them a moment or two.
My stomach growled, and I gave them some space by heading to the cafeteria. I made my way down the hall toward the elevator. After it dinged and the doors opened, I stepped into the elevator with a couple of nurses wearing blue scrubs and a doctor wearing a white coat. I nodded and pressed the floor to the cafeteria.
Arriving on the first floor, I spotted Zoey and Claire right away. Zoey was munching on French fries. I wondered how Martina would feel about that. Zoey spotted me, and ran toward me. “Hi, Detective. Can I ask you some questions?”
“Sure, I was just going to grab a bite to eat.”
“I highly recommend the fries. They’re great.” She said emphatically.
I’d been working with Martina for nearly two weeks. When she had spoken of Zoey, I had pictured a miniature version of Martina, but what stood before me was a ball of sunshine wrapped in glitter. Not exactly Martina’s clone. For that, the girl would need to be dressed in head-to-toe black and wearing sensible shoes. “What questions do you have?”
“Well, first of all, I’d like to know more about the case. Mommy hasn’t told me a whole bunch, but I know that it’s something big.”
I glanced over at Claire, who shrugged, as if to explain - this is Zoey. “Well, your mom’s been helping me to investigate some crimes that a bad person did.”
“Are you helping find the baby in the picture?”
“Sort of. That is mostly your mom’s investigation.”
“Do you have any kids?”
“I don’t.”
“Any pets? Like a snake or a rat.”
“Nope.” Never.
“Not even a goldfish?”
“Not even a goldfish.”
Zoey frowned. “You must be really lonely.”
They say children are brutally honest. Zoey Monroe was no different. “I work a lot.”
“Oh, one of those.”
Zoey was something else. Claire tried to wave the girl over. “Zoey, why don’t you let the detective get something to eat, and you come ove
r here and finish your snack.”
“Okay. See you later, Detective.” She said with a smile, before running back over to the table to join her nanny.
I couldn’t imagine coming home from a day like I’ve had and a day like Martina has had, to all the energy of an eight-year-old girl. I don’t know how Martina did it.
33
Martina
“What are you doing here?” I hadn’t meant for it to come out as harsh as it sounded, but it was what it was. My mother walked around to the other side of my bed, where Hirsch had been standing. She folded her arms across her chest. “Look, I know I wasn’t an excellent mother, Martina. I was a lousy drunk, and so was your dad. I don’t blame you for being gone all these years. I don’t. But I’m clean now. I’ve been sober, one year. I just got my chip.” She fished the disc out of her pocket and held it up with a proud smile.
It was becoming increasingly more difficult to be righteous when Betty had been sober longer than I had. I supposed, though, she’d done a lot more damage than I had, or was I just trying to make myself feel better?
I swallowed my pride. “Congratulations. I know that’s not an easy thing to do.” I said, as I tried on my newfound humility. It fit okay. There were worse things.
Her amber eyes twinkled. “Thank you. My sponsor finally convinced me to reach out to you. I was scared, ashamed, and frankly, I was weak. I know I did you wrong, for so long. I see that now. It’s all clear and fuzzy at the same time. It’s like I know it was bad, but I can’t always recall the details.”
The haziness was likely due to the booze, I would know. “I get it.”
“I’m not sure if you can forgive me, and I guess I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.” She looked down at the tile floor, took a breath, and then refocused her watery gaze on me. “I came here because I was afraid it might be my last chance to say what I need to say. You seem to have a dangerous job, and from what I’ve heard, trouble seems to find you.”
I smirked. “Or you came here because you knew I couldn’t run away.”
She shrugged. “I suppose that might be true too.” She unfolded her arms and stepped closer to my bed. “Martina, I came here to apologize and make amends. I should’ve been a better mother. I should’ve protected you and taken care of you and your brothers. I have a job now, and I volunteer at the homeless shelter. I’m doing my best to make my life right, after it had been wrong for so long.” Tears rolled down her cheeks.
It was strange to see my mother breaking down. She was never one to be anything but angry or passed out. There was something different about her. She seemed to be stronger and maybe even stood taller, too. I didn’t need to be a jerk and wreck that. “I forgive you.”
Betty choked out a, “Thank you, Martina.” She buried her face into her hands and sobbed briefly before she glanced down at her purse, seemingly searching for something inside. She pulled out of a small package of tissues and appeared to calm herself, and then wiped her tears.
“I appreciate that, Martina. It’s been a hard year, but I feel good.”
Darn it. This is the part where Rocco and God would advise me to have a little grace. “I understand. I’m actually in AA myself.”
Betty’s face softened. “I thought Zoey had said that. Something like - like mother, like daughter. I wasn’t sure if it meant you were in the program, too. I guess I’m happy to hear you’re sober, yet sad to hear that you got the gene. How long have you been sober?”
“Nine - going on ten months,” I said, with as much pride as I could muster - which wasn’t much.
“Good for you. I know how hard it can be. What was your bottom?”
“Car accident, I was drunk, and I almost lost everything.”
“That’s usually how it works.”
Betty relaxed. “How do you like your sponsor?”
I nodded. “He’s perfect, and I feel like I owe him everything. He’s tough when I need it, but also compassionate, when I need that too.”
“That’s great,” Betty continued, “Now that I hit my one year, I decided I was ready to be a sponsor.”
“That’s amazing. I’m proud of you.” I never thought my mother and I would have anything in common other than our eye color. This life was turning out to be pretty strange.
“It’s been a few years since we’ve seen each other. Zoey must be what, eight now?”
“She’ll be eight next month.”
Betty nodded. “I’ve missed so much.”
“She’s talked about you practically non-stop since you called. She’s actually down in the cafeteria right now.” As I finished the last syllable, I heard small footsteps running toward the room, followed by heavier footsteps. “Mommy, Mommy, guess what? I talked to Detective Hirsch, and I told him he should try the French fries and he took my advice and got the French fries. I like him.” She nodded and smiled. But before I could say a word, Zoey froze in her tracks as she studied my mother. She then glanced over at me with questioning eyes.
I supposed it was as good a time as any to reintroduce her to her grandmother. “Zoey, honey, this is Grandma Betty. Do you remember her?”
Zoey tilted her head. “Your face looks familiar, but maybe it’s because I saw a picture recently.”
My mother covered her mouth with her hand and then moved toward Zoey. “Zoey, it’s so good to see you. Aren’t you a vision? I sure do like your shirt. I love sparkles too.”
Zoey bit her lower lip and glanced up at me. It wasn’t like her to be shy. Was she looking for my approval? “Zoey, isn’t that something? You and Grandma Betty both love sparkles. You should tell her about your collection.”
Zoey’s eyes lit up, and she returned her focus to my mother. “I have more than twenty tubes of glitter! All different colors! Claire and I, that’s my nanny. We do art projects almost every day. Maybe you can do a project with us? What’s your favorite color of glitter?”
Betty smiled wide. “I like pink.”
Zoey’s eyes got huge. “Me too! I’m glad you’re here, Grandma Betty. Mom, are you glad that Grandma Betty is here?”
I gazed over at my mother, who I hadn’t seen in almost six years. The woman I never wanted to be like. Yet here she was, clean and sober, making amends. Maybe my brain wasn’t the only thing that needed healing. “Yes, I’m glad Grandma Betty is here too.”
Claire stepped forward and waved to my mother. “Hi, I’m Claire, the nanny.”
“Nice to meet you, Claire.”
“Martina, I hate to do this, but I have a major study session tonight, with a lab on Monday. I need to go soon. Do you know if you’ll be discharged tonight?”
“The doctor will be back soon to let me know if I can go home tonight.”
My mother jumped in, “With a concussion? I don’t think they’ll let you go home tonight.”
I watched Claire’s desperation. She’d sacrificed so much for me and my family. I couldn’t let her miss out on studying for her exams. She was so close to becoming a nurse and fulfilling her dream. “Don’t worry, Claire, we’ll figure something out. I don’t want you to miss your study session. Don’t worry about it.”
“Are you sure? I could try to study back at your house with Zoey… If you need me to?”
My mother shook her head back and forth. “Nonsense. Martina, I can watch Zoey, if you’re okay with that.”
Did I trust my mother? Did I trust a woman I hadn’t seen in six years with the love of my life - my daughter?
I looked at Zoey, her eyes wide and hopeful. I know she wanted to know her grandmother. “I suppose if I can’t get out of here tonight, that would be okay. If it’s not an imposition.”
“Nonsense.”
I looked over at Claire. “When do you need to go?”
Claire gritted her teeth. “Fifteen minutes.”
My mother stepped toward Claire. “Why don’t you go. I can take care of Zoey and Martina.”
My heart raced, and I wondered if I was making the right decision. I needed to mak
e sure the doctor let me out tonight. “Claire, it’s fine. Please go, we’ve got it covered.”
Zoey turned to my mother and explained, “Claire is going to become a nurse. She’s really close to graduating and becoming the best nurse ever.”
Claire smiled. “If you guys are really okay with it, I’m going to go. I’m studying with some classmates, but if there’s an emergency, please call me, Martina.”
“Thank you, Claire.”
My phone vibrated on the table.
Zoey ran over to the table. “I’ll get it for you.” She grabbed it and handed it over with a grin on her face.
“Thank you.” I looked at the screen. I didn’t recognize the number, but I recognized that the area code was from Pennsylvania. “Hello, is this Martina Monroe?”
“Yes.”
“This is Amy Driscoll, maiden name Amy Henley. Do you have some time to talk?”
“Give me just one second.” I put the phone down. I waved Zoey over and whispered. “I need to take this call. It’s about the case with the baby in the photo.”
Zoey gave an exaggerated thumbs up and went over to my mother, grabbing her hand and talking softly before leading her out of the room. I never thought I’d see such a thing. I put the phone back up to my ear. “Amy, it’s good to hear from you. What is it I can help you with?” I asked with bated breath.
34
Detective Hirsch
I stepped into the room and caught a whiff of the all-too-familiar combination of dust and body odor in the visiting room of the county jail. I eyed the suspect in front of me. I had a feeling he wouldn’t be easy to crack, but I’d give it my best shot. I owed it to Martina and Theodore Gilmore.
Without a word, I pulled back the plastic chair and sat down, overemphasizing each move. I placed my hands in my lap, opting for a friendly, prim-and-proper approach. I stared ahead as Alonso Ricci sized me up. By the grimace on his face, I could tell he wasn’t impressed with me, and probably not law enforcement, either. I smiled. “Alonso, my name is Detective Hirsch. How are you today?”
He remained stoic. “I’ve been better.”
