by Becky Durfee
She looked up an article which featured photographs of the three young women, taken at happier times in their lives. Angela Velasquez was featured in her cheerleading outfit, posed on one knee with pom poms raised in the air. Her smile could have brightened any room. Jenny stared at the picture, looking at this beautiful young girl who had made the simple mistake of choosing the wrong boy. She probably started doing the drugs in an attempt to be accepted by him. Jenny thought about all of the concessions she personally had made when she was younger in order to impress Greg. Similar mistakes, very different outcomes. There but for the grace of God go I, Jenny thought as she felt an ache in her stomach.
Paris’s picture showed her holding her baby daughter. She looked happy, like a proud new mother. Perhaps the monotony of motherhood hadn’t sunk in at the time this picture was taken. At that point she was still okay with making the sacrifices that young mothers make. Jenny’s eyes focused on the baby, who was now growing up without a mother. She hoped that the father had gotten remarried to a nice woman who would raise this little girl as her own. The baby deserved that—the baby hadn’t done anything wrong.
Jenny closed her eyes for a moment to pay homage to these two victims—privileged girls who held the world in their hands but let it slip through their fingers.
Unlike the others, the photograph of Renee Podgewaite was distant and fuzzy; it may have been the only picture they could find of her. That notion made Jenny even sadder. This woman truly hadn’t mattered. She wasn’t like the other girls who paid too hefty of a price for some bad choices; this woman never stood a chance. From the moment she was born, her heartbreaking fate had been sealed.
A flood of tears consumed Jenny. The emotion that she’d been suppressing flowed freely, giving her a huge feeling of release. All of her pent-up sorrow about the victims, her own failed marriage, and Jeremy Stotler’s wrongful arrest found its way to the surface as she sobbed relentlessly into her pillow. After several moments she began to calm down, feeling a renewed sense of peace. Despite her overwhelming desire to always stay strong, she had to admit that sometimes there was nothing better than a good, healthy cry.
As the tears dried and her mood returned to normal, a distant memory popped into her head. She recalled men in suits coming to the door of her childhood home back in Kentucky to ask about a neighbor who worked in law enforcement. The questions had been routine and basic, rather unremarkable, except they asked about any extended periods of unaccounted for time. Maybe, just maybe, she could claim to work for the government and pull off a similar interview of Orlowski’s relative in New Jersey. If only she knew who he was.
Step brother. He had said it was a step brother…from marriage number four. If Hawkins was six…Jenny used her phone to call up the real estate records of the Hawkins property, noting that two husbands before had been MacMahon. She needed to find a MacMahon from Edmonton New Jersey. A white pages search revealed several MacMahons in Edmonton. Somehow she’d have to determine his first name. Suddenly she knew what her next conversation with Orlowski was going to be about.
She flipped over onto her side, feeling relaxed, when she heard a banging sound. Once again she raised her head, listening intently, but the noise didn’t return. Orlowski’s at work, she reasoned, a half an hour away from here. He doesn’t know your real name. He doesn’t know where you live. Relax. Despite the voice of reason echoing in her head, she remained spooked. Too spooked to sleep.
“The DVDs,” she remarked, hopping out of bed. She retrieved her laptop and a movie, setting up a makeshift entertainment center in her desolate bedroom. The distraction proved to be enough to allow her to drift off into sleep.
Chapter 16
As Jenny locked up her apartment on her way to meet up with Zack, she noticed an extra key on her key ring. She remembered this was her mailbox key, and she hadn’t checked her mail since she had moved in. Instead of heading to her car in the parking lot, she walked to the mailboxes next to her building. She found the rectangular metal box designated for her apartment, inserting her key to discover she only had one piece of mail, a copy of her rental contract from The Grove apartments. “Oh yeah,” she remarked. “I haven’t changed my address yet. Gotta do that.”
She looked up to see an older woman standing very close to her. Realizing she’d been caught talking to herself, Jenny smiled as she threw the envelope into her purse and walked to her car. If Jenny gave a shit, that would have really been embarrassing. It was a good thing she didn’t care anymore. She hopped in her car with a giggle and drove off.
Soon Jenny was at Zack’s apartment, ready to head together to Billy’s. “Wow, you look hot,” Zack remarked as she walked through his door.
Jenny smiled. “Thanks, but I’m not dressed up for you. I’m trying to keep the interest of a serial killer. The other two times I’ve met up with him, I didn’t realize I was going until I was already there, and I kind of looked like shit.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Well, I made no attempt to make myself look good, let me put it that way,” Jenny remarked. “But this time I know I’m going, so I figured I’d at least try to appear attractive.”
“Well, it worked, but that scares me,” Zack said. “I hope he doesn’t try anything with you.”
“We’re going to be in a public place, and you’ll be right out there in the parking lot.” Jenny held up a finger. “And, if Orlowski does show up, we’ll let Johnson know, and he’ll come too. I really don’t think I’m in any danger.”
“I still feel like we’re using you as bait,” Zack countered.
“I’m not bait.”
“I wish I could be as sure about that as you are,” Zack commented as they walked together out the door.
Jenny sat alone at the counter at Billy’s, watching the television that hung behind the stacks of bottles behind the bar. She’d been there for about twenty five minutes, so far to no avail. Suddenly she started to get the same funny feeling she’d had at Morgan’s funeral. She knew without looking that Orlowski was on his way.
“Hey,” Olrowski’s voice called a few moments later. Jenny turned toward him with a smile. “Well, don’t you look nice?” he commented.
With a bat of her eyelashes she replied, “Thank you. I was hoping you’d show up.”
“And I was hoping you’d be here.” He placed his hand on Jenny’s back as he sat next to her, causing searing pain and a clatter inside Jenny’s brain. She managed a smile anyway.
“Oh,” Jenny said, shaking her head. “I just remembered something. Hang on a second.” She pulled out her phone and texted Zack. I fed the dog. She turned back to Orlowski. “So how was work last night? Did anything exciting happen?”
“Not really. A drunken brawl, that’s about it. It was a pretty quiet night.”
Jenny made a face. “You know, I was thinking about something last night.”
“Oh yeah?” Orlowski ordered a chicken dinner and a soda from the bartender.
“Yeah. You said something about moving in with a step brother in New Jersey. You also said your mother was married, like, a million times.”
“Well, six, but that’s close to a million.”
“I rounded up,” Jenny declared. “I’m just curious how many step brothers and sisters you ended up having.”
Orlowski let out a laugh. “God, I don’t even know. I’d have to think about that for a minute.”
“That many, huh?”
“It was a lot, that’s for sure. And I don’t even count the ones that happened after I moved out the first time. Scott and Hawk both have kids, but I don’t consider them step brothers and sisters. At all.”
“Hawk?” Jenny asked.
“My mom’s current husband. His name is Earl Hawkins, but everyone calls him Hawk. He’s got a few kids—two sons and a daughter—but I do not consider myself related to them. They’re a bunch of redneck fuck-ups.”
Jenny winced.
“Unfortunately, this has been my mom’s l
ongest marriage. She’s been with him for about ten years now. I guess she’s getting a little too old to play the field these days, so she’s finally settled down.”
Jenny curled her nose. “I’m getting a nasty visual.”
“Oh, God,” Orlowski said, covering his eyes. “Don’t even go there.”
Jenny laughed. “Okay, so was this Scott character the husband before?”
“Yeah.” The wheels were turning in Orlowski’s head. “Let me see, I think he lasted five or six years, maybe? I guess I was about twenty one when they got married, so that seems right.”
“Did he have kids?”
“Two girls, but they were older than me. I only met them a handful of times. They didn’t live close by.”
“Were they redneck fuck-ups too?”
“No, I don’t think so. But their father was. All of my mother’s husbands were.”
“Including your father?”
“My mother never married my father.”
Jenny’s eyes grew wide. “She had six husbands and none of them were your father?”
“Nope,” Orlowski said. “She got pregnant with me when she was young. My father never married her. I think he wanted her to get an abortion, truthfully, but she refused.”
“That’s terrible,” Jenny said, although she couldn’t help but think how much better the world would have been if his mother had gone through with it.
“It is what it is,” Orlowski replied. His soda arrived, and he took a drink through his straw. Jenny felt the urge to grab the straw and run out the door, but she sat patiently.
“So how many different step-fathers did you live with?” Jenny posed.
“Four. But I barely remember the first one. He and my mom divorced when I was about five. I have seen pictures of him and his kids, but I don’t really have any memories of them.”
“It still must have been traumatic for you to have your father figure and your siblings leave when you were so young. You must not have known what was going on.”
“I can’t say,” Orlowski surmised. “I don’t remember it at all.”
“Okay, so who was number two, and how long did he last?”
“God, you ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m just fascinated by this, that’s all. I grew up with one mom and one dad in one house. My life was boring compared to yours.”
“I’m not sure if boring is the word I would use,” Orlowski said. “Okay, let me see.” He looked up at the ceiling. “His name was Paul, and I think he lasted from about second grade to maybe fifth grade? He had older kids, too. Teenagers, I think. They didn’t really have too much to do with me. I was probably a pain in the ass to them.”
“I don’t know about that,” Jenny surmised.
“I do. I was in middle school when husband number three arrived with his twin kindergarteners. God, they were a nightmare.”
“Were they girls or boys?”
“Boys. Fortunately they weren’t around that much. I think they spent most of their time with their mother. But then my step-father died in a car accident, so they went to live with their mother permanently. I never saw them again after that.”
“Wow. I’m sorry to hear that. Were you devastated when he died?”
“Not at all,” Orlowski said. “I know this sounds terrible, but I was happy to see him go. He used to hit my mom sometimes, and he’d swear at me a lot. I couldn’t help but think he got what he deserved when he died.”
How incredibly ironic, Jenny thought. “Yikes. But I guess that leads to husband number four…the one with the cool step brother?”
“Yup. Mike.”
“Was Mike the husband or the son?”
Orlowski smiled. “Both. They were Mike senior and Mike junior. Mike junior was my age, and he was a good kid. We were both in high school, and we’d both had similar shitty upbringings. I think that’s why we could relate to each other. He was the only one of my step siblings I ever hung out with, and I continued to hang out with him even after our parents split up. He ended up marrying a girl from Trenton, and he eventually moved there, which is how I came to be there.”
“How old were you when that divorce happened?”
“We were both seniors in high school, but by that age you’re old enough to hang out with who you want. Even though Mike moved out, we still got together. I don’t think my mom liked that idea very much. She would have preferred a clean break, but I didn’t give a shit what she thought. If she’d given a shit what I thought, she wouldn’t have had a new husband every five years. But apparently she didn’t care, so neither did I.”
Jenny’s phone chirped. She looked at the screen; it was a message from Zack which read a guy is here.
Although she assumed he meant Officer Johnson, she wasn’t sure. She rolled her eyes and said to Orlowski, “Ugh. This is my husband. I guess I should see what this is about.” She grabbed her purse and stood up off the bar stool. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”
Jenny headed out the door and dialed Zack’s number. “What do you mean?” she said as soon as he picked up.
“Johnson. He’s here.”
“Okay, that’s what I thought you meant.”
“I flagged him down in the parking lot,” Zack admitted. “I wanted to talk to you before he went in to see if now is a good time or if he should wait a little while before he goes in.”
“Well, now he should wait a minute, just because it might look funny if I get a call and then he comes in right away.”
“Good thinking.”
“But now I have to come up with some story about what this phone call was about. Orlowski may have seen the message that a guy is here. What guy are we talking about?”
“The ant guy.”
“The ant guy?”
“You know what I mean. What are those guys called? Exterminators. That’s it. The exterminator is here.”
“Why would you call me for that?”
“I’m an idiot,” Zack insisted. “Maybe I am wondering how to pay him, but you already have him on automatic billing.”
Jenny covered her eyes. “That’s just stupid enough it might work.”
“I’m good at being an idiot. So how’s it going in there?”
“Okay,” Jenny said. “I got the name of the relative in Edmonton.”
“Are you being safe?”
“Yes, I’m safe,” Jenny insisted. “Okay, I’m going to head back in. Tell…the exterminator…to wait a few minutes before going in.”
“Will do.”
Jenny hung up her phone and went back into the bar. After her eyes adjusted to the dark, her blood froze at what she saw.
Orlowski was reading her rental agreement.
Chapter 17
Jenny knew she must have looked like a deer in headlights. “How did you get that?” she asked.
“It fell out of your purse when you left,” he explained. “So you got yourself an apartment, huh?”
Think. “I did.”
“Why didn’t you say so?”
A response popped into Jenny’s head. She allowed her demeanor to relax as she flashed her flirty smile. She sat back down on the bar stool as she playfully snatched the rental agreement out of his hand. “I haven’t moved in yet. I just got it in case I needed it.”
“Do you think you’ll use it?”
Jenny shrugged. “Maybe.”
“It seems far from here. Why did you get an apartment so far away? ”
Jenny looked Orlowki in the eye. “Now what good would it do to move out of my husband’s house only to get an apartment close by? If I’m going to leave him, I’m going to leave.”
“Well, I have to admit I’m encouraged by this,” Orlowski added. “I’m looking forward to the day I can call you and take you out on a proper date.”
Every nerve in Jenny’s body tingled. “In due time.”
At that moment Orlowski looked over Jenny’s shoulder to the door. She turned around to see Officer Johnson entering th
e bar. Johnson approached them and extended his hand. “Tom,” he said. “Good to see you.”
“Ed.” Orlowski grabbed Johnson’s elbow and engaged him in a firm handshake. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Well, I had a couple of friends recommend this place, so I figured I’d give it a try.”
“The food is good, and the scenery has improved ever since she’s started coming here.” Orlowski gestured toward Jenny, who blushed modestly.
“Well, I don’t want to horn in on anything. I’ll just have a seat over there. But it was good seeing you.”
“You too.” As Johnson walked away, Orlowski leaned closer to Jenny and said, “That’s Ed Johnson. He’s on the force. To be honest, I’m glad he doesn’t want to sit with us. He has the personality of a park bench.”
Jenny giggled. She actually knew he was speaking the truth.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Orlowski continued. “He’s a nice enough guy. He’s just difficult to talk to.”
“Well, you’re certainly easy enough to talk to.”
“You too,” Orlowski replied with a wink.
After seemingly endless small talk, Orlowski once again excused himself under the pretense of having to go to work. Jenny tried to remain casual, although on the inside she was desperate for the bartender to not clean up his dishes. Fortunately the bartender was in the back, out of sight. Once Orlowski was safely out the door, Jenny looked over her shoulder at Johnson, who made eye contact with her. She glanced toward the straw, looked back at Johnson, and nodded slightly. The message seemed to be received clearly.
Johnson got up and walked toward the bar, sitting where Orlowski had just been sitting. He very quickly pulled latex gloves and an envelope out of his pocket, getting everything situated discretely under the bar. With surprising ease he removed the straw from the glass and slipped it into the envelope. Without a word, he sat back down in his seat and resumed his dinner.
