“Two. They are both looking for someone who might be revisiting the crime scene one last time,” Johnson said, pulling out his keys. “You ready to go and visit some very unfortunate parents?”
“No,” Nicola answered, rolling his eyes. “But we have to.”
“What a fucking Saturday, eh?” Johnson said, wiping his eyes. “You want to follow me over in your truck? I know you don’t like cigarette smoke, and after this I plan on chaining like a motherfucker for a few days.”
“Yeah, I’ll drive,” Nicola said, scratching his neck. “This shit has to end, man.”
“Sooner than later,” Johnson said, as he watched the coroner’s truck pull off.
***
The rain seemed to come down harder as Nicola pulled into the driveway of Dr. and Mrs. Naples. He put his truck in park right behind Johnson’s unmarked squad car and gazed out of the window grimly.
The house had been newly built, and reminded him of the bricked homes on Chicago’s east side with a quaint little swing and pots of flowers on the closed-in porch. There was a University of Tennessee orange flag waving in the wind and two Volvo station wagons in the curved drive.
Everything about the place screamed normal, middle-class family. It would be a shame to have to shatter their dreams today with the news that nothing would ever be the same for them again.
Johnson was the first to jump out of his car. Throwing down his cigarette on the well-kept lawn, he looked back at Nicola and motioned for him to join him. Nicola did so quickly, stepping back out into the miserable weather.
“You do the honors,” Nicola said, as they hiked up the sidewalk to the front door.
“That’s what I brought you for,” Johnson said, pulling his badge from under his shirt. “I’m horrible at this shit.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be the homicide detective?” Nicola asked.
“I don’t do the kid thing well,” Johnson mumbled. He looked over at Nicola and frowned. “But then again, who does?”
Nicola shrugged.
“Well let’s see who they warm up to first. Whoever they like gets the job,” Johnson said with a huff. “Agreed?”
“Yeah, yeah. Sure thing,” Nicola said, sucking his teeth.
The knock on the wooden door was hard and foreboding. Standing side-by-side, the two men waited as a petite white woman in a ponytail came peering out of the door. Her eyes had dark, black circles under them, and her face was white as a sheet.
Nicola knew that she had been worrying herself to death, just like Ivy would have.
“Yes,” she said, voice quivering.
“Mrs. Naples,” Johnson said, void of emotion. “I’m with the Memphis Police Department. Do you mind if we come in?” He held his badge up where she could see it.
She looked at the badge and then back up at Johnson. “Did you find them?” she asked, opening the door a little wider.
“It’s best if we talk inside,” Nicola chimed in. He looked over at Johnson and stepped forward.
Moving out of the way hesitantly, she allowed them inside of the house.
Nicola looked around at all the tables covered in MISSING flyers with pictures of their sons on them and walls that were papered in maps and post-it notes. Evidently, they had teams of people helping them search.
No matter how trained a cop was in doing this, there was no way to describe being the messenger of such horrid news.
Dr. Naples entered out of the kitchen quickly looking as tired as his wife. As soon as he made eye contact with Nicola, his shoulders sank. He went to his wife and put his hands around her. “Officers,” he said gloomily.
“Why don’t we all have a seat,” Johnson offered as he motioned towards the sofas in the living room.
“I prefer to stand,” Mrs. Naples said, tears flowing.
Johnson reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a Ziploc bag with a photo inside. “I’m very sorry, but I need to make a positive ID.” He couldn’t wait a second longer. This was killing him. He just wanted it over already.
Nicola looked over at him with a what-the-hell glare in his face.
Mrs. Naples nearly fainted. Her husband caught her in his arms, but could not push back the grieving moans that pushed up from his aching diaphragm. “Oh Lord, no,” he said, tearing up.
Nicola took the photo and walked over to Dr. Naples. Moving around the woman, he lowered the picture where only the doctor could see.
Sobs escaped his tired eyes. “That’s them. Those are our boys,” Dr. Naples said, pulling off his glasses. He grab and held his wife tight. They both cried in the middle of the floor, nearly collapsed on top of each other.
Both Johnson and Nicola were forced to just stand there and watch. Suddenly a small dog came running past their feet. He stopped in the living room and looked back like he could sense the anguish.
Nicola looked at Johnson and raised his brow as if to insinuate that he should get on with the news.
Johnson cleared his throat and shifted his weight on his left side. “We found them about an hour ago in a dumpster in Overton Park.” He gritted his teeth. “I’m so sorry. I promise you that the Memphis Police Department is doing everything in their power to find the person responsible for this.”
“My children make four babies dead,” Mrs. Naples sobbed, visibly trembling. “What are you going to do to stop this instead of just picking up after this bastard?”
Johnson wished that he had the words to comfort her, but he knew that she was right. All the leads had gone nowhere, and it did feel like he was just the cleanup guy. Looking over at Nicola, he shook his head, begging him to help him explain this.
“I have twin boys the same age,” Nicola said, out of character and definitely unprofessionally. “Your kids were abducted only a few steps from my door. Even if they hadn’t been, this case would still be a priority, but I want you to know that we will find the person or persons responsible for this, and we will bring them to justice. Your children will not be forgotten.”
Nicola’s words seemed to calm her just a little, though not much. She wiped her eyes and nodded. Letting go of her husband, she went to the sofa table and picked up a silver frame of the boys recently taken at a family event and gave it to Nicola. “That picture barely looks like my boys. I want you to take this so you can remember that they were once living, breathing children. Find who is responsible for this, please.”
“I swear it,” Nicola promised, taking the framed photo.
Johnson’s eye twitched. Swearing was a no-no, but he wouldn’t tell Nicola that now. The look on Nicola’s face was as rife with anger as Johnson ever seen a man. Now was not the time to trifle with protocol.
“Thank you,” Mrs. Naples said, touching his hand as she began to cry again.
Nicola nodded and looked over at Dr. Naples. “We’ll need you to come down to 201 Poplar for follow up, but for now, I would seek grief counseling for yourself and your wife. This process is not going to be easy. If you have family, now would be the time to lean on them, and if you have a faith, I would call on your parishioners for spiritual support.”
Dr. Naples’s voice would barely carry. “We do. We will.” He looked down at the floor, broken and numb.
Mrs. Naples found her way to the sofa, where she sat holding a pillow in front of her chest, rocking and crying.
Nicola stood in the middle of the floor watching her in a total state of sympathy. His feet were locked, unable to move; he simply took it all in…the sounds of mourning, the pain, the weariness. He looked around the house, a place once filled with love and felt the emptiness as it seeped in like a foul odor. This family had been robbed of life’s most precious gift, and the only consolation that he could give them was that they were “working it.” It was hardly enough.
“Agosto,” Johnson said, pulling Nicola out of his daze. “Yo, man. We gotta go,” he whispered.
Nicola nodded and turned away from the woman. Looking at Dr. Naples, he passed him a card. “If you need anyth
ing...”
The doctor took the card and nodded.
Drained and depressed, Nicola and Johnson made their exit back out into the rain. As soon as the door closed behind them, Johnson spoke up. “You swear it? Really?” he asked as they stood on the top step of the porch.
Nicola turned and looked at him with a stone face. “I don’t break a promise, Johnson. I haven’t in many years.”
“Look, dude. You can’t make this personal. Every man I’ve ever known who took this shit home with them ended up without a home,” Johnson warned.
“Babies are being slaughtered, if you haven’t noticed. In my opinion, that makes it okay to make a fucking exception on what you take home,” Nicola said, stalking back to his car.
“Look, I know that this must get to you, but…”
Nicola cut him off. “I’ll see you at the precinct.”
On that note, Johnson threw his hands up and left the guy alone, because in his mind, it was never okay to take work home - no matter what. Everyone who he ever came into contact with in this line of work was a victim or a perp; everyone deserved the same amount of attention, and he couldn’t move them all in with him. So, his motto in life was you lose some, you win some. This situation - no matter how grotesque - was no different. But Nicola acted as if someone had lit a fire under his ass. More power to him. As long as he solved the case and made him look good, why did he care if the guy was over zealous?
3
A little after midnight, Nicola pulled back up to his home, exhausted and a little nervous. He had missed the boys’ entire birthday party and left Ivy alone with a house full of guests and wild children on the day that she needed him most. Words couldn’t express how sorry he was about the entire situation. What was worst was that he had not told her yet that he was taking the Baby Boys case.
Normally, they discussed their career moves with each other first. Every promotion she had taken, every big client she had gone after, she had discussed with him preemptively. In the same manner, he had discussed his caseloads with her, remained transparent about his course of action regarding this ascension and dissension in the department and never kept her out of his work life. It was how they stayed grounded, and how they stayed together. Both of their jobs were demanding. Both of their lives were full; so juggling was something that they did to help each other.
Only in order to juggle, both parties had to be aware that there were balls in the air, and Nicola knew that he was about to hit Ivy in the head with one of the biggest dropped balls of yet.
In between running around like a chicken with his head cut off that day, he had managed to text her quite a few times, but each time the tone of her texts became more and more frustrated. As a peace offering, he had promised to be home to tuck the kids in by ten, but that got blown out of the water when the medical examiner had called him and Johnson back down to her office.
Getting out of his SUV, he slammed the door shut, hit the alarm and threw his jacket over his shoulder. Crickets chirped loudly out in the lawn, drawing his attention back out into the street. It had finally stopped raining and now the muggy fog was back, thick enough to cut through and stick to the skin. Low visibility made him nervous. He sloshed through the puddles in the driveway up to the front door and stuck his key into the lock. As he turned the knob, he felt the door pull away from him.
In gray jogging pants and a purple college alumni shirt, Ivy opened the door for him and stepped to the side.
“Come on in,” she said, eyebrow cocked.
Now, I need permission to come into my own house? He thought to himself. He must have been in deeper shit than he first thought.
The house was spotless and quiet. There were no signs that a mob of people had been there only hours before. He looked around and felt even worse. So she had worked her ass off all day with the kids and then worked all night to clean up after them. Great. Just wonderful.
Nicola stepped passed her meekly and threw his jacket on the black iron coat rack in the corner. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, waiting for her to blow up on him like he deserved. His heart thudded in his chest cavity awaiting World War III.
Ivy crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at the wooden floor. Her fuzzy pink socks played with a spot that she had missed with the Swiffer. Her voice was low. “So, what’s this about?” she asked, running her tongue over her bottom teeth. “Are you cheating on us again?” Her voice was weary, like she had spent hours waiting to ask, thinking about it, mulling over the right way to broach the subject.
Nicola’s heart skipped a beat. “No, I’m not cheating on you guys again,” he said, walking up to her. He lifted her chin and made her look at him. “I’m not,” he said sincerely.
She looked at his wall of a chest protruding out and the 3-D muscles pushing up against the soft cotton fabric and huffed. How could she stay mad at a man who looked so good. “Your job is a pretty hard mistress to compete with, Nicky,” she said, biting her bottom lip. “And every time you get too involved with her, we suffer.” Sometimes, Ivy wished that she only had to contend with another woman like most wives, but not here. Nicky was known for spending inappropriate amounts of time chasing perps. The Memphis Police Department and all of her trappings was his mistress, tempting and lustful, promising glory and distinction that no woman could. He was ensnared in a career-based love affair that she hated almost as much as she hated the idea of what could happen to him as a result of it.
Nicola eyed her pouty mouth and realized what he hadn’t done today. Rubbing her back with the flat palm of his hand, he let out his gigantic secret. “I took a big case, Ivy, but I can handle it.”
“Nicky…” she said, shaking her head. She tried to pull away but Nicola’s strategically placed hand held her there, unable to bolt on him without hearing him out first.
“The Baby Boys case,” he explained further, narrowing his eyes. “And I know that we normally talk about these things…”
Determined not to just stand there and be forced to digest his bullshit, Ivy wiggled out of his embrace. She knew that he would not grip her, hold her too tight. Turning on her heels, she headed out of the foyer toward the kitchen. “I can’t believe you! You are cheating.” She threw her hands up in disgust.
Nicola followed a few feet behind her. His large boots echoed throughout the house. “Baby,” he said, calling after her. “Baby, wait.”
“Nicky, why would you do that? Why would you except the biggest case in Memphis since the Lester Street murders?” she asked, going to the refrigerator. Her long fingers grasped the stainless still handle and with unnecessary force, she yanked it open. The condiments on the top shelf jingled together against the pressure.
“Why?” Nicola shrugged. “I didn’t have a choice. This case is a big deal to Memphis and to Memphis families. We’re losing kids left and right and…”
“No…uh-uh, don’t pitch me,” she said, whipping around to face him. The door to the refrigerator hit her on the hip. “I’m a publicist, okay. I know all about the sell.”
“I’m not pitching you,” Nicola said, voice high. He was. “I’m telling you that this time I honestly did not have a choice. Director Amway called me into his office three nights ago and practically begged me to head this case.” He thought the news might soften things for him, explaining that his orders had come straight from the top.
He was sorely mistaken.
“Three nights ago?” She could literally feel a blood vessel about to pop in her head. “You’ve been holding on to this for 72 whole hours?”
Never had Nicola heard 3 days sound so long. He stuttered. “When I first found out you were in the middle of the CD release party for that guy, remember? Then the kids’ birthday party preparation.” He sighed. “I was looking for the right time to tell you.”
“Do you mean when they mentioned your name on the television as the lead on the case or when you’re standing in front of reporters answering questions with the Director of the Memphis Police Depar
tment?” she asked, turning back around. She pulled a wrapped up plate out of the refrigerator and walked it over to the microwave.
“The news conference isn’t until the day after tomorrow.” He might as well let it all hang out now.
She huffed, hating that she was always right.
“You know that I was going to tell you,” Nicola said, scratching his brow. He watched her carefully as she moved around at the counter. “I was just looking for the right time.”
“And did you find it?” she asked snidely. “This right time, I mean?”
“No, I didn’t,” Nicola said, sitting down at the kitchen table.
“Nicky, this case is huge. It’s nationwide already. The pressure surrounding it will be stupendous. Then there is the issue of what if the case doesn’t get solved. They’ll persecute you. Parents everywhere will blame you for not saving their children. You don’t want to live with that.”
“I’ll solve it. I always do,” he snapped.
“And if you don’t? This is a PR nightmare for the city. They are not going to handle this without rolling some heads. Citizens are demanding blood. The mayor has had over four press conferences or town hall meetings about this already. Families aren’t letting their children go out to play.”
“I know that!” His voice boomed like a drum from his diaphragm.
Ivy was unmoved. “And you’re willing to offer your head and your career?”
“I’ll solve it. If it’s the last thing I do…I’m going to solve this damn case,” he promised.
“The last thing you do?” She sounded exasperated. “Do you realize how morbid that sounds?”
“Well, I’ll tell you one thing. I know how morbid this case is. Children are dead. They have been brutally murdered and there is no end in sight unless someone stops it. No one is safe-not even our own kids.”
Ivy felt an urgent possession over him now. “Then don’t take this case, so you can be there for them…for our children.”
“I’ve already taken this case. I thought I made that clear.” He held on tightly to the end of the table, gripping it until he thought that it would break.
The World in Reverse Page 3
