by Stevan Mena
His manufactured grin cued up as another late guest folded back the broken gate and walked up the path to greet him with a handshake. He ushered him inside.
His expression dimmed as he took one last look. He stepped back inside and closed the door. Patricia could see the disappointment in his face. She walked over and took his hand. "We're what's important today; us, the baby, nothing else." His eyes greeted hers and she pulled him close with an affectionate one armed hug. They rejoined the party as the happy couple.
CHAPTER 58
Jack stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He ran a comb through his hair and splashed a little water on his face. He gently patted the water off his cheeks, staring at his reflection. He wondered, how much longer would he be Jack Ridge? Would he ever look through someone else's eyes? Or was this it — a few months of agonizing pain, then oblivion. No absolution, no summation of his journey.
Judgment? God? He wanted to believe, but doubt and disappointment clung tight. He recalled a case he'd worked on years ago, when he first started. A boy, about 15, had been hailed as a hero for battling — and finally beating - cancer. Surviving a long, arduous battle that many local people donated money to support. There were plastic buckets with his picture beside every cash register in town.
A week after being released from the hospital, he was killed while walking to school, hit by a sanitation truck that had turned a corner too quickly and skidded. It was an accident. Jack was assigned to the case as a patrol officer, this was long before he'd made detective.
It was a gruesome task, the boy's body was mangled beyond recognition. Jack remembered someone making an off-hand comment about the irony of it all. He labeled that particular moment as the moment he stopped believing in God. By the time Sarah met with her fate, he was already a full blown cynic.
Sarah's accident, however, was the pivot that could have turned him in either direction. Had she recovered miraculously, perhaps if God had answered his prayers and pulled her through, his faith might have been challenged and restored. But it just didn't happen that way. The penny landed heads down.
Jack had met many individuals who'd lost their religion upon coming home and finding their loved ones murdered, countless stories of undeserved sorrow that led to an unraveling of faith. But then there were others who'd found religion as they watched their six year old daughter dance in her first ballet recital. A roll of the dice. And only a few chips left to squander, Jack.
He grabbed the card Robert had given him off his dresser and re-read it. Still the same address. Robert's home wasn't far from where Laura lived, a few miles or so.
He returned to the bedroom and opened the closet. He spotted the navy blue suit he'd bought to be buried in. He removed it from its cover for only the second time, the unraveling of the plastic felt like a second chance at a new beginning.
He put it on and shrugged the shoulders, the give was comfortable. It was a good match with his tie, dark blue stripes. He slapped his hands at his sides. "Okay."
Jack got into his car and drove to the end of his street when he realized he was heading to a party without a present.
He pulled into a strip of stores. He entered a small antique place and picked out a very nice centerpiece for a dining room table. It was expensive, but he'd saved a lot of money over the years. Many nights home alone, cooking for himself. He could afford it. He certainly didn't need to hoard for retirement.
It felt good to buy something for someone, especially something expensive. It was a strange time to think about it, but as he factored in his head just how much money he probably did have saved in the bank, he realized he didn't have a will.
The cashier asked him if he wanted it wrapped, snapping him back to attention.
"Yes, please."
He placed the box, wrapped in pink and teal paper with a beautiful ribbon that curled at the ends, in his car. He could have never done that himself; he was glad he spent the extra five bucks.
He closed the trunk and spotted a department store anchored at the end of the strip mall.
He walked the aisles of the large store, searching. He stopped a clerk to ask a question. The clerk held up his hand and told him to wait a minute, then disappeared. Jack decided not to wait. He turned down another aisle, what do you get for a new baby? He found the children's toys, spotted a stuffed teddy bear and tucked it under his arm. He continued walking, passing the large screen TVs, the appliances. He reached the sporting goods aisle and found the other thing he was looking for.
CHAPTER 59
The tiny brown and white rabbit cowered behind the bush. Rebecca strained with a whine as she stretched her arm out to reach him, flicking her fingers to try and coax him out. The rabbit hopped in place, terrified.
"I won't hurt you," she promised. She reached in again and the rabbit bolted over her forearm, leaving scratch marks on her skin.
"Ow! Wait!" She scampered after the rabbit around the back of the house when she heard a car pull up. She turned and saw Jack climb out, immediately noticing his nice suit. As he got closer, she saw his face looked different - he'd shaved.
"Hi," Rebecca said.
"Hi. How are you?"
"Good." Jack noticed her eyes weren't as swollen as he remembered. She seemed spry and colorful, her skin not as pale. Like a child after a fever breaks, pink again. Even her "Hi" wasn't weighed down with anxiety and angst like before. Something had happened.
"Your mom around?"
"She's inside."
"I got something for you." Jack returned to his car and popped the trunk, disappearing underneath. Rebecca watched with anticipation, stretching on her tippy toes to try and get a look.
Jack closed the trunk and came back around the car holding a shiny new bike, pink with white trim and streamers on the handlebars. Rebecca's face lit up.
"I was gonna fix your old one, but I figured it was ready to be put out of its misery. Hopefully this one will be a little safer, do you like it? They had other colors…" Rebecca climbed onto the retro, banana shaped seat and squeezed the brakes, elated. "Its got 21 speeds. And a chain guard. You like pink? Cause I wasn't sure-"
"You look nice," Rebecca said, catching him off guard.
"Thanks."
Laura exited the house and approached them.
"Give it a spin," Jack urged. Rebecca stood all of her weight on one pedal and put the wheels in motion. Soon she was speeding down the sidewalk.
Laura got a look at Jack in his suit.
"A little loose," she said. Jack looked himself over.
"I'm half the man I used to be." Laura gave a melancholy smile, not allowing the reality of the statement to dampen their spirits. She lifted her hand to block the sun, watching Rebecca go up and down the street, jumping curbs and dodging parked cars.
"They said it was supposed to rain today," Laura said.
"I heard."
They stared at one another. Jack couldn't help but notice that a layer of anxiety and worry seemed to have been peeled away from Laura too, revealing a fresher, healthier person underneath.
"I was watching the news," Laura said, "they won't leave that poor father alone." Jack nodded bitterly.
"Tragedy is entertainment when it's someone else's."
"You did all you could, Jack." Jack nodded, poking his tongue into his lower lip, making it protrude.
Laura saw Rebecca speeding in their direction, her face flush and excited. "You didn't have to do that," Laura said. Jack shrugged.
Rebecca sped by in a blur. "Hi, mom!" Laura looked at Jack and raised her eyebrows victoriously. Mom.
"How is she?"
"Better. We had a little…breakthrough. Slept all night. First time that's happened in I don't know when."
"I'll keep my fingers crossed."
Laura looked him over, his tie didn't match his suit at all. But she didn't have the heart to tell him. "Where you off to?"
"I've decided to give peace a chance."
"Good for you." Laura smiled as Ja
ck adjusted his collar and fiddled with a button on his shirt.
"Go with me," Jack said finally.
"Why?"
"This way, if I decide to leave, it'll give me an excuse, I can say you're-"
"No, Jack. This is something you need to do on your own. Besides, those art professors you showed Rebecca's work to at the university called, they wanna stop by and meet her."
"Might be good for her self esteem."
"Yeah. They said some people will pay a fortune for unique artwork like hers." Laura laughed. "Maybe I'll retire."
Rebecca rode up on the bike, a little too fast. She slammed on the brakes at the last minute, making a screeching sound as the tires skidded to a halt just in front of them.
"Whoa! Take it easy," Laura said, holding up both hands.
"I love it!"
Jack turned to Laura again. "Sure you won't change your mind?"
"Just make sure you don't."
Jack winked at Rebecca, then turned to leave.
"Well, take care," Jack said. He got a few feet away when Laura called out to him.
"Jack?" He turned around. "Don't be a stranger."
"No chance." He continued slowly back to his car. Rebecca rode her bike up next to him.
"Jack?"
Laura watched as Jack leaned down at Rebecca's behest. She whispered something into Jack's ear. Jack listened, looking back at Laura. He smiled at Rebecca's comment, ridiculous, then climbed into his car.
As Jack drove away, he watched them shrink in his rearview mirror. He saw Laura embrace Rebecca, placing a kiss on her forehead. Jack's heart swelled at the sight, pleased he'd decided to stop along the way, even if she did turn him down.
CHAPTER 60
Harrington still stood where Jack left him. He took a bite of an apple, watching divers surface and descend over and over.
He checked his watch.
At that same moment, Jack was sitting in his car, parked down the block from his brother's soon to be former home. Twice he reached for the door handle and stopped. A drop of rain splashed on his windshield, followed by another and another.
"Come on."
He took a deep cleansing breath and climbed out of the car, taking three brave steps towards the house before realizing his arms were empty.
He popped the trunk, grabbed the nicely wrapped gift, and closed it.
He headed for the front door, skidding a bit when his foot slid on the mat before the steps. He made it safely to the top and hesitated, listening. Behind the door was nervous chatter, one person was shouting. It didn't sound like the noise of laughter and partying. It sounded more like the aftermath of an event - something had happened.
He knocked. Patricia's mother, Edith, answered the door.
"Oh my God," Edith said, her mouth left open.
"Hello, Edith."
"Jack. I can't believe my eyes."
"Am I too late?" Jack hunched his back as the rain started to get heavy.
Edith's expression grew serious. "I'm afraid so."
Jack frowned, aware he might not be welcome after all this time. "I see…"
Edith quickly put her hand on his arm. "No, Robert took Trish to the hospital."
"Hospital?"
"Her water broke. Guess the baby got tired of waiting. Must be all this excitement."
"Is that Jack?" a deep male voice said from inside. It might have been Patricia's father, Jack couldn't quite tell.
"He was hoping you'd come, he'll be sorry he missed you."
"Which hospital did they go to?" Jack asked, walking backwards.
"St. Charles."
Jack turned and headed back to his car. He tossed the gift on the passenger seat and sped away.
He had a pretty good idea which was the shortest way to the hospital, but the rain had slowed traffic to a crawl. He shifted in his seat; anxious, frustrated.
"Shit!" He slammed his fist on the steering wheel and reached into his inside pocket to pull out a piece of paper with a number written on it. He opened his cell phone and dialed, exchanging glances with the stop and go traffic, trying not to crash into the car in front of him.
Robert stood beside Patricia's hospital bed, patting her forehead with a damp cloth. The hospital was teaming with people. Robert frantically searched the faces of doctors and nurses, coming and going, hopeful that one of them would finally be Martha, their obstetrician.
Patricia winced in pain. "Where is she?" Robert squeezed her hand.
"She'll be here, any second now. Just stay calm. Breathe." Robert stepped forward into the stream of traffic and grabbed the arm of one of the passing nurses.
He recognized her, she helped admit them when they arrived. "Is our doctor here yet?"
"She called, she's on her way." Robert nodded. He dragged his hand across his face, squeezing his mouth, exhaling hard and loud.
His cell phone rang. "Hello?"
Before Robert could hear who was on the line, a threatening look from a passing nurse made him pull the phone away from his ear.
"You can't use cell phones in here," she said.
"Robert? Robert?" Jack yelled Robert's name into the phone, but he never heard it. Robert gave the nurse a whatever nod and turned off his phone.
Jack heard the line go dead. "Robert? Robert? Shit."
The traffic snarled, a total log jam. Fuck it. He switched on his spinning blue police light and pulled out onto the shoulder. His tires kicked up mud and rocks as he sped past two jammed lanes of cars, taking the exit ramp.
"Where the hell…" He didn't know if he should turn right or left, so he took a chance, turning right and tearing down a side street.
He looked at his watch, Bishop would be going in front of the judge right about now.
CHAPTER 61
Down at the courthouse, spectators were packed in thick, waiting for the entrance of the accused killer. The main hallway, an expansive area with 30 foot ceilings and handcrafted marble pillars, was filled to capacity with onlookers.
One of them was Carl Rosa, who clenched every muscle in his small frame when he spotted officers leading Bishop in. Carl stood up, regretting his decision not to bring a gun once he realized they were going to walk the bastard right past him.
Bishop kept his face hidden as they approached, denying Carl the opportunity to stare his daughter's murderer in the eyes. Bishop seemed limp, almost as if the guards were dragging him. Suddenly, Bishop looked up — right at Carl. Carl caught a glimpse of the killer's surprisingly meek and timid face, so thin and ugly. He shuddered at the thought that this hideous psychopath was the last thing his beloved daughter saw. It took every ounce of strength to restrain himself from leaping through the entourage of officers and squeezing Bishop's neck until he was dead. The moment Bishop passed and disappeared through the courtroom doors, he regretted it. Any punishment would have been worth the retribution.
Laura was at home on the couch, watching the arraignment on TV. A reporter was at the scene. She grabbed the remote to raise the volume.
"Edward Bishop has confessed to killing at least four women, including the rape and murder of Angelina Rosa, whose remains have still not been recovered, and most recently, the abduction and murder of Teresa Mason, who managed to give police a positive ID of her attacker before she died. Bishop's arraignment is scheduled for 1:30 - Oh, wait, I think they're bringing him in now-" The reporter spun around as the camera tracked Bishop's entrance. It followed as they marched him in front of the judge, the entire affair now deteriorating into a circus, flashes going off on all sides.
Laura poked her head up and caught a glimpse of Rebecca riding her bike past the house. She wasn't thrilled about letting her ride around in the rain, but her daughter seemed so happy, she didn't want to spoil it. Long may it last. She turned her attention back to the TV when the doorbell rang. Laura shot up expectantly.
She peeked through the front curtain and saw a man holding a briefcase, getting soaking wet. She opened the door as fast as she could.
"Hello. Ms. Lowell? Michael Ketcher, from the University? We spoke on the phone…about Rebecca?"
"Yes, of course, won't you come in?"
"Thanks." Michael stomped the mud and rain off his boots and stepped inside.
"Can I take your coat?"
"Thanks." He turned as she helped him off with it. "My colleague, Helen, apologizes for not being able to make it, but she'd like to stop by tomorrow if that's okay with you?"
"Yeah, sure."
Michael found a painting of Rebecca's leaning up against the wall, several more stacked behind it.
"May I?"
"Yes, I put them out for you to take a look at. There's more inside on the table."
Michael flipped through them, his eyes danced with excitement. He paused to admire a portrait of a woman holding a baby. "Oh jeez, remarkable, just incredible. Is she here?"
"She's out riding. A friend bought her a new bike. She should have come in by now." Laura turned to look out the front door impatiently.
Michael caught a glimpse of Rebecca in a school photo, hanging in a frame on the wall.
"Well, I can't wait to meet her. I've been a teacher in the arts for over 20 years, I've never seen talent like hers at such a young age. How old is she now?"
"She just turned nine."
"Unbelievable. I'll be honest, I'm a little skeptical."
"Some of her other work is in here. Would you like to have a look while we wait?"
"Sure." Laura guided him into the living room. She'd laid out more of Rebecca's artwork across a fine red linen tablecloth on the dining room table.
"Tell me again about the kind of money people will pay for artwork like hers?"
