Rick was leaning over his dad's file. "It says here that my dad begged the guys to take him instead. They laughed at him and beat him up, telling him he could be next." He looked up at Freesia. "No wonder he lost it when he came back. He was never the same, you know? They forced retirement on him and a few other guys retired shortly after he did."
Freesia nodded, scanning over the other files. "Yeah. It says in Bob's, Barry's and Len's files that they were all offered retirement too. Detective Cuaco was the only one who made a fuss, so they helped him get his detective position. Only he still needed to be cleared for PTSD in order to be allowed to accept his position. The last date in Bob's and Len's files is Saturday, September 12, 2009. What's the last date in your dad's?"
Rick flipped through to the end of the file. "Uh, same date. September 12. Your mom wrote that she still needed to see him for at least another month of sessions. He seemed to be improving, but was still having nightmares and displaying signs of paranoia and severe anxiety. I don't remember that well. But if I think about it, he did seem to be doing a bit better at this time."
"Okay," Freesia said. "I think that must be the exact weekend she disappeared."
She went from nausea to excitement with the realization she was getting closer to an answer. "Len told me that my mom closed his file the last time he saw her and that's true, see?"
She pointed to her mom's last entry in Len's file. "This patient is coping well and seems to be functioning normally in his everyday activities without the need of medication, which we took him off gradually over the previous six weeks. My diagnosis of mild PTSD is reversed. I have advised the patient that I intend to move forward with closing his file. He has been advised if he shows signs of regression, he is to contact me to have his file reopened."
She closed Len's file and put it back into the metal box. Next she took Bob's and saw there was a similar entry dated Thursday, August 6, 2009.
"This means he was telling the truth when he said he didn't see my mom the weekend she disappeared," she said. "And it also means he told the truth about her closing his file." She put Bob's file back in the box with Len's.
Rick closed his dad's file, rubbed it a few times with his palm and put it in the box with the other two.
Freesia flipped to the end of Detective Cuaco's file and was surprised to see a final entry also dated September 12. "Here's another one."
She took a deep breath. "This patient seems to have overcome several of his reported complaints of sleep disturbances, flashbacks and mild anxiety. He has done very well in both group and individual therapy and has been an active participant in his healing process. At this time, however, I do not feel he is ready for the stressful position of Detective until he has completed the anger management workshops I recommended several months ago. To date, he still has not taken my advice to enroll in these workshops. Therefore, I am not able to clear his PTSD diagnosis, nor close his file until he has agreed to take the steps to complete the workshops. I recommended another month of individual therapy sessions, along with the workshops, and advised that I would reevaluate him at that time."
She frowned and flipped to his information sheet. The file was opened for mandatory evaluation for his vulnerability for PTSD, but after the horrible mission, one of the issues her mom listed as "most concerned with" was his anger issue.
"You look confused," Rick said. "What is it?"
"I'm not sure. Something about all the dates is bugging me. I just can't put my finger on it right now." She put Cuaco's file back into the file box and reached for the last item, the mini tape recorder.
"I have to go." Mizu pulled her sweatshirt hood over her head. "Looks like you guys have things covered here. Let me know what you find out. I still have a stop I gotta make before heading back home."
The door slammed and the rain started falling harder.
"I'm going to have to head upstairs soon too." Freesia zipped her jacket back up. "Let's see what's on this thing and then put the box back together. I really don't want to deal with Gran coming to look for me."
She pressed Play and all they heard was dead air. She pushed the Rewind button, counting to three, and hit Play again. Her mother's voice filled the room. Freesia felt like someone squeezed her heart. Tears pooled in her lower lids and she swallowed to get through it. Rick reached across the table and held her hand.
Her mother was basically dictating what she'd written in the files. Freesia still listened. It didn't matter what her mother was talking about, it was nice just to hear her voice. She decided it was enough and moved her thumb over the Stop button when a loud bang came from the speaker, startling them both.
"I just heard," a man's voice boomed. "I thought you said I was fine enough to clear."
"No," her mother said, her voice shaking. "I said you needed some more sessions before I could—"
"You bitch!" The man screamed so loudly that the recorder's audio was distorted for a few seconds.
Freesia heard her mother telling whoever it was to calm down. There was a few seconds of muffled arguing before the tape moved to the dead air. She stared at the machine in her hand, still playing.
"I think we just heard what happened to my mom, Rick." She looked in his eyes, trying to hold back her tears. "I have to ask you something, but I don't want you to be mad at me for asking."
Rick squeezed her hand and shook his head. "That wasn't my dad. I don't even recognize the voice."
"That means your dad didn't see her twice that night," she whispered. "Someone came in after your dad met with my mom. But it could have been any of them. Except Bob, I guess."
A crack of thunder rumbled in the distance, signaling the teens to clean up and get back home. She put her dad's report back in the file box, but put the tape recorder in her jacket pocket. She decided she was going to talk to her grandparents and give them the hat, the sunglasses and the metal box. She'd let them decide whether to give them to Cuaco. Now she knew almost everything and she knew it first.
They put all the screws into the back of the file box, Freesia took the face towel with the sunglasses and hat wrapped inside of it and put it in the metal box. After that, the two teens got ready to leave.
As she stood up, Rick gave Freesia a quick kiss. "Here," Rick said. "Let's get you upstairs before your Gran's sixth sense kicks in and starts looking for us."
Freesia turned off the lamp, pushed the button on the door handle that locked the door and slammed it shut. The rain started coming down harder as the two carefully rushed up the Stairs of Doom.
As they reached the top of the stairs and said a hurried goodbye, it dawned on Freesia that Mizu hadn't been wearing her usual oversized blue hooded sweatshirt.
Rats. I wanted to ask her about that.
We're almost there, Mama. Hold on just a little longer.
Chapter Nineteen
Mizu moved through the bushes between the Freisens' cabin and the Oakleys' like a cougar on a hunt. She moved among the trees, winding through them silently as rain poured down on her.
She sneaked up to the cabin and climbed the short staircase to the porch, remembering to avoid all the squeaky boards that would give away her presence.
She walked around the side of the cabin to the main bedroom window that had a perfect view into the living room where she knew he'd be lying on the couch sleeping.
Soon. Soon you won't need to escape this way. Soon enough, it will all be over.
Mizu crept back over to the front of the cabin, reaching into the rim of the porch light and pulling out a key.
A half smile curled up the side of her mouth as she slipped into the cabin so easily. She sneaked at a snail's pace through the kitchen into the living room and up to the couch where Frank slept. He was curled up into the fetal position on one end of the couch, a light blanket pulled over him. She tilted her head at him.
Don't give in. Don't you let it win.
She pulled something out from under her shirt and shoved it under the couch, accide
ntally knocking one of the empty beer bottles. She froze.
He whimpered and rolled over, facing the back of the couch. Mizu reached up, pulled the blanket back up over his ear and stood.
She grabbed a shirt from the floor and walked backward, cleaning her wet, muddy footprints up as she went. When she opened the door, stepped on the threshold, tossed the soiled shirt into the sink then slipped out as quietly as she went in.
She reached up and put the key back in the lamp, pulled her hood up and walked down the stairs. The rain came down in sheets, a clap of thunder grumbling through the woods with a thin streak of lightning following a few seconds after.
The final nail in the coffin has been placed. I pray you're strong enough to handle it.
Chapter Twenty
Freesia didn't get the opportunity to chat with her grandparents about everything she'd found out because Detective Cuaco showed up at their place just after breakfast the next morning. Freesia reluctantly handed over the metal file box and gave a brief explanation of the other items she'd put inside of it. He didn't ask how she found those things or if she'd looked through it, which was just fine with her.
"Well, it's great that you found all of this for us, Freesia," he said. "I know this will help us sort everything out." After a short round of idle chitchat, the detective took everything they'd given him to the forensics team in the city.
Patience didn't seem to be anyone's virtue, especially since it was nearing mid-August and their time for finding all the answers was rapidly coming to an end. Plus by that time, it had been raining for almost two weeks, creating an entirely new reason for tension.
Freesia knew she should have talked with her grandparents about what she, Rick and Mizu had found out, but she decided in the end to hold off on it until she saw how Cuaco treated it all. And to see what else, if anything, he found out.
The awful weather meant more time indoors and everyone knows that kids stuck inside for too long tend to get restless and cranky. And grown-ups who have to be stuck inside with them tend to be even crankier. Granddad, who was finally on the mend, but still using his crutches, kicked the girls out in the rain more times than they appreciated to walk the dog. He'd also given them the task of drying her off afterwards.
"Well, with all of that arguing, I thought you were hinting about needing some things to do," Granddad had said. "Besides, it's just a little rain. You aren't made of sugar."
Freesia was really starting to hate that expression.
While she rubbed Rudy's fur dry for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, her mind drifted to what Rick was doing.
Because of the rain, the Tiki Snack Bar and the boat launch had been closed almost every day. Who wanted to go to the beach or out on the water in the pouring rain? There'd been a couple of days where the clouds allowed the sun to come out, but it had only been for a few hours. There wasn't enough nice weather to draw customers to the Tiki, so it closed early. Except for those precious moments, the rain switched between a misty spray to an all-out downpour the rest of the time.
All of that meant no shifts for Rick and less money for his goal. Even worse, Freesia knew he'd been spending more forced time with his dad. He'd been understandably grouchy too.
"You've been drying the same spot for the last five minutes, Freesy," Gran said. "I think you can move on to another area so the poor dog can come back into the living room."
Freesia shifted her hands to the dog's belly. "Sorry, girl." She received a loving lick on the nose in reply. "Rick was supposed to come over yesterday and today, but he hasn't shown up. I'm worried."
Sage peeked over Rudy's back and grabbed her keyboard from the kitchen counter. 'I saw him in his backyard the last time we were out with Rudy,' she typed. 'It looked like he was loading bags into Frank's car.'
Freesia's brow creased. "You mean, like suitcases?"
'No. Garbage bags.'
Freesia guessed that Frank was taking a trip into town to do laundry since he would never let Rick drive his car. "Maybe I'll sneak over and see how Rick is doing when we're done with Rudy. Thanks."
Sage nodded, shoving her keyboard beside her leg. The girls rubbed the rest of Rudy in silence. A few minutes later, Freesia put on her raingear and headed over to see Rick while the rest of her family played yet another round of Monopoly. They had four different versions of Monopoly and were setting up The Beatles one as she said her goodbyes.
Just as she opened the door and started opening her umbrella, Gran ran up to her. "Freesia, if Frank comes back, you excuse yourself and come home," she said in a hushed tone. "We aren't sure what he knows and what he doesn't, but if the results from forensics come back with a nod toward him, he'll panic. You can bring Rick back here too, if he can get away. But you can't be around him without one of us nearby. Clear?"
Freesia swallowed hard and nodded. Gran gave her a hug and went back to her game.
The rain had slowed to a light drizzle. Freesia stood in the rain, staring over at the Oakleys' cabin, while drops pelted the top of her umbrella, sounding a lot like someone drumming their fingers.
Great. I wasn't nervous enough about going over there. Now I'm scared.
She knew that Rick would never let anything happen to her, but Gran was right. She didn't know for sure what Frank did or didn't know or how he'd react once he found out what they'd been doing.
She took a deep breath and walked down the driveway to the main road.
I wonder how Mizu is doing.
She made the turn up the Oakleys' driveway.
I haven't seen her since it started raining.
She hoped the grass hut Mizu was staying in could withstand such weather.
Noting that his dad's car was still gone, she felt a huge sense of relief. At least she wouldn't have to deal with that discomfort. She walked up to the front door, put her face up to the window and cupped her hand over her eyes. Between the mist clinging to the glass and her breath fogging it up further, she couldn't see clearly. But she did see a figure by the sink and figured it had to be Rick. She knocked on the door.
Rick peeked out the window and his face lit up with a smile. He flung the door open, folded her into a hug and kissed her cheek. "I am so happy to see you. Come on in."
"Oh, look. I made you all wet." She giggled, seeing the body mark on his gray t-shirt.
Rick was bare foot and wore loose jeans. His hair was messy, but in a cool kind of way.
He can even make bedhead look awesome.
He laughed, rubbing at the wet spot. "No worries. I was doing the dishes, anyway. Come keep me company while I finish up. We can watch a movie or something later. You want a drink?"
"No, thanks. I'm good."
He went back to the sink. "Look, I'm sorry I haven't come over much. I thought it would be better to stick around here. You know, keep an eye on things." He threw a pile of cutlery on the edge of the dish rack and then grabbed a pot from the stove.
"It's okay. I figured it was something like that. Hear anything from Detective Cuaco?"
"No. But I think he'd have gone to see you first, anyway." Rick scrubbed the pot, his hair flopping back and forth.
"I guess. So, uh, where's your dad?"
"He went to town to do laundry. Since he won't let me drive his car, he actually went himself. It was kind of cool to see that he left the sanctity of the cabin."
"That's awesome. Has he stayed inside most of the summer?"
"Yeah. He hasn't even left to go fishing, which isn't like him. I guess he just feels safer in here. I'm a bit worried though. I think he'll have to go into Falcon since there are only two washers and two dryers in town, right?"
"Right."
"Well, in a way it's good." He finished up the last pan and drained the sink. "We'll have more time alone."
She smiled as he dried his hands on a tea towel and then held them out to her. She put her hands in his palms and they stepped into the living room.
Freesia hadn't been inside their cabin in
years. And from what she saw a few weeks ago from the kitchen doorway, it looked like it had been cleaned up a bit. There weren't any newspapers or beer cans around and the place didn't smell like rotten food and BO anymore.
They sat in the middle of the couch, his arm around her shoulder and her hand on his thigh. He grabbed the TV remote. "Anything special you want to watch?"
"Honestly, I have no idea what's even on. We don't have a TV up here. Gran refuses to get one. She says we come up here to get back to nature or whatever so having one would defeat the purpose. We're not even allowed to have our laptops."
"It's not a bad thing. It's actually a great idea, when the weather is good."
He flipped through stations to get to the listings. They decided on a thriller movie. Rick popped some microwave popcorn and then they cuddled on the couch under a quilt. They watched wide-eyed as a psycho serial killer stalked some poor woman. Halfway through, she didn't know he was hiding in her house, waiting for her. When she went around a corner, he was there and grabbed her.
Both Rick and Freesia jumped, tossing the bowl of popcorn face down on the floor.
"I guess this wasn't the best choice of movies to watch right now." Rick stood up and shook off the quilt. "I'm going to get the broom."
Freesia laughed and bent down on her hands and knees to pick up what she could by hand. She flipped the bowl over and started tossing dusty popcorn back into it. Ugh. It's amazing how much dirt sticks to buttery popcorn. She wiped her fingers on her thighs.
Something caught her eye. A blue piece of cloth peeked out from under the couch skirt. She gave it a tug and realized it was clothing of some kind.
"How often do you guys vacuum around here?" she said over her shoulder.
Rick reappeared with the broom. "I don't know. My dad and I tried doing it once a week before my mom left. But it hasn't been done for a while. Why?"
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