by Mike Omer
“Okay,” Zoe said. “So what do you want to do?”
“We’re investigating in the wrong place,” Mitchell said. “We should be looking in Boston, talking to people who knew his wife and him.”
“Bernard and Hannah already did that.”
“They never finished,” Mitchell pointed out. “They got called back.”
Zoe thought for a moment, licking crumbs off her finger. Mitchell stared at her mouth, transfixed. Finally, she leaned back and wiped her fingers on a napkin. “Okay,” she said. “But if we’re going to Boston, it’s not because of all of what you just said. It’s because when he killed his wife, that’s when something truly woke up in him. That first murder was just a fluke. The second murder created his compulsion.”
“Sure,” Mitchell grinned. “Whatever rocks your boat.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mitchell called Meredith Johnson, who had reported her sister Wanda missing when she disappeared two years earlier. Meredith said she could actually meet them that very evening. Zoe said they would take her car. They’d been using Mitchell’s car in Glenmore Park, but Boston was Zoe’s city and Mitchell didn’t want to argue. He had a feeling that if he argued, Zoe would say he just didn’t want to let a woman drive. And she’d probably back it up with psychology. No, it was probably better to take Zoe’s car.
She switched on the radio, turning it to WJMN. Mitchell was about to say something condescending, but caught himself just in time.
Traffic was relatively sparse, and Mitchell realized he was slowly relaxing. Zoe was lost in thought, half smiling as she drove, her face distant. Mitchell watched her for a few seconds, surprised at how sweet she seemed when she wasn’t staring at him with her eagle eyes. Her lips were pink and soft, and he caught himself wondering what it would feel like to kiss them.
“Oh, I love this song!” she suddenly said, and turned the volume up.
“What… It’s Gonna Be Forever?” Mitchell asked, bemused.
“It’s actually called Blank Space,” Zoe said.
“Are you—”
“Shhhhh.”
“Seriously? I mean—”
She turned the volume up a bit more. “Shut up!” she said, grinning, her head bobbing with the beat. She began to sing along, her features softening as she lost herself in the music.
As she got to the middle of the chorus, Mitchell burst out laughing.
“What?” she said playfully. “Do you have a problem with my voice?”
“Did you just sing ‘Got a list of Starbucks lovers’?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Awesome.”
“What? Those are the words.”
“Oh, definitely,” Mitchell nodded, his face suddenly serious. “Starbucks lovers.”
“Yeah! They’re like… y’know. Cheap lovers. Like the coffee you get in Starbucks. A guilty pleasure.”
“U-huh.”
“You didn’t even know the name of the song!” Zoe said.
“No, no, you’re definitely right. You know what I think? I think you should go to a karaoke bar and sing this song. In front of a large crowd. You sing it really well.”
“Are you messing with me?”
“Absolutely not! Just make sure you sing the line with the Starbucks lovers.”
“Those are the words!”
Mitchell burst out laughing again.
They fell silent, listening to the music for a bit.
“So… How’d you end up a cop?” she asked.
“Well… my father was a defense attorney,” Mitchell said. “So I guess I was exposed to a lot of really depressing stories when I was young. Criminals who never got a second chance, cops who abused their role, and a crappy system that didn’t really work. When Richard and I—”
“Who’s Richard?”
“My twin brother,” Mitchell answered. “When Richard and I grew up, we both kind of wanted to fix things. So I became a cop, and he became a defense attorney, like Dad was.”
“Are you guys close?”
“Richard and I? Yeah. He also lives in Glenmore Park. He’s kind of pissed off at me right now.”
“Why?”
“Because Tanessa got hurt.”
“How is that your fault?”
“It is.”
“Your brother sounds just as dumb as you are.”
“I’m usually considered to be the dumbest of the siblings,” Mitchell said cheerfully. “What about you? How did you become a Fed?”
“I’m not really a Fed; I’m just a consultant for the bureau.”
“Whatever. You’re still a suit. How did you become an FBI consultant?”
“Too much TV, I guess,” Zoe said. “I always thought it would be really awesome, working for the FBI.”
“And isn’t it?”
“Sometimes. I don’t know. I definitely like this case.”
They became silent. Mitchell preferred not to talk about the case, enjoying the intimacy of their conversation. He didn’t want Jovan Stokes to ruin it.
“Why did you and Pauline break up?” Zoe asked, and quickly added, “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. Just tell me to shut up.”
“No, it’s okay,” Mitchell said. “I have no idea. Apparently she thought we’ve been drifting apart for a while.”
“And you didn’t?”
“I was about to propose to her. I bought the ring and everything.”
“Aw, crap. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.”
Zoe put her right hand on his knee and smiled at him. “She sounds stupid.”
“Yeah?” Mitchell said, his leg tingling at the touch. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
She took her hand off his knee and put it back on the steering wheel. The rest of the drive was quiet, and Mitchell found himself glancing at her every few minutes, just to look at her again.
When they reached Meredith Johnson’s home, it was almost nine in the evening. Mitchell felt a pang of regret when the car stopped. He had enjoyed the calm ride, the complete release, his endless spinning thoughts slowing down to a casual pace. Now, as they looked at the red brick row house in which Meredith lived, he felt his mind accelerate again, a jumble of racing feelings and images screaming in his mind. Jovan Stokes attacking Tanessa, the police failing to protect her, guilt over his own failure—they all started whirring again. Looming above all this was a constant cloud of longing for Pauline.
“Shall we?” Zoe asked. She was frowning, looking at him, and he wondered if his feelings were so obviously written on his face.
“Yeah, sure,” he said, and they got out of the car.
Meredith opened the door for them and led them to a small, cozy living room. It reminded Mitchell of his grandmother’s home, which he’d visited almost every Christmas as a kid. Meredith herself was about fifty, with salt-and-pepper hair. Her face was plain and covered with pale makeup; her mascara and lipstick fought one another for dominance. Her eyes were large and blue, and it wasn’t clear why she covered her face with so many colors that would attract attention away from them. They sat down, Meredith on a rocking chair, Mitchell and Zoe on the scarlet couch. For a moment they both tried to sit on the left edge of the couch, closer to Meredith. Then Mitchell shot Zoe a look, and she relented, letting him sit closer.
“Meredith, we wanted to ask you a few questions about your sister, and about Jovan Stokes,” Mitchell said.
“Sure,” she said. “The police suddenly took interest lately, after ignoring me for two years. They already asked me everything.”
“Who did?” Mitchell asked.
“Two detectives came here a few days ago. A black guy and a skinny woman. They asked a lot of questions about Jovan,” Meredith said.
Mitchell nodded, ignoring the stereotypes in which Meredith placed Bernard and Hannah. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll just—”
“Sometimes it helps to talk about things a second time,” Zoe interrupted. “It might jog your memory a bit.”
Mitchell curs
ed himself for not discussing their interview strategy with Zoe beforehand. They’d be tripping over each other again.
“Anything that would help to find Wanda,” Meredith said.
“When did you realize that your sister had disappeared?” Mitchell asked.
“Well, she didn’t reply to my phone calls,” Meredith said. “We used to talk almost every day. And then I found out that she’d missed a shift at work, and they couldn’t get a hold of her. She was a doctor, you know.”
Mitchell nodded.
“I called Jovan, but he didn’t answer either, so I went to their house and there was no one there.”
“Did you have a key?” Mitchell asked.
“Yes. I let myself in. There was no one in the house.”
Mitchell knew from the police report that they’d found most of Jovan and Wanda’s clothes missing, along with some toiletries, their wallets, and their car keys. Both cars were missing as well. It all seemed to indicate that the couple had decided to leave in a hurry, though it wasn’t clear why.
“So you called the police,” Mitchell said.
“Yes,” Meredith said, nodding. “And they came and looked around. And then they said it looked like they’d gone on vacation and had forgotten to mention it.” She shook her head angrily. “I told them that Wanda would never have left with Jovan. She was in the process of divorcing him. The police just said that maybe they were patching things up. They were very impatient with me.”
“I’m sorry,” Mitchell said.
“After a week, when no one heard from Wanda, they looked a bit deeper,” Meredith said. “They asked some questions, checked around a bit, and said they’d call if there was any progress in the case. But they never did.”
A case like that, of a missing couple, would be very low on the police’s priority list.
“I never heard from Wanda again,” Meredith said. She said it calmly, her voice practiced, but underneath Mitchell heard a current of sorrow and longing. His fingers moved forward, about to touch Meredith’s hand in compassion, when Zoe said, “Why did Wanda want to divorce Jovan?”
“He was… not a good man,” Meredith said. “At first, Wanda was happy with their relationship. She was very focused on her career, and a life partner who didn’t really stand in the way was just the thing she felt she needed. But later on things began to bother her. She caught him lying to her several times. And he could sometimes lose his temper, become quite aggressive—”
“I’m sorry,” Mitchell said. “You said she caught him lying. Lying about what?”
“About all sorts of stuff. It seemed like he was lying for the hell of it. She once discovered that the names of half his co-workers were different from the names he told her. Or he’d make up a story about a patient that she later found out never existed. Just the weirdest lies.”
“Did she think he was hiding something?”
“Well… yes. But most of the lies he told weren’t covering for anything. They were just… lies.”
“You said that he was violent sometimes,” Zoe said.
“No, not violent. Aggressive. He was never really violent, but he would scream at her the most horrible things. Most of the times, he was simply cold, never demonstrating any affection. Eventually she wanted more.” She became silent.
“Eventually she wanted more,” Zoe repeated.
“That’s right,” Wanda said, but did not elaborate.
“Ms. Johnson, anything you can add will be a great help to our investigation,” Zoe said.
“I’m not sure what you—”
“Did Wanda have a lover?”
Meredith drew back.
Mitchell wanted to strangle Zoe. He’d been so close to making a connection. Now the woman would become cold and distant. Another dead end.
He was about to try and salvage the situation, when Meredith said, “Yes.”
“I see,” Zoe said. “For how long?”
“A few months. It was another doctor at the hospital. A really lovely man. She wasn’t proud of it, and she was about to tell Jovan.”
“We’ll need the doctor’s name,” Zoe said.
“Of course. His name is Barry Rose. I think I have his phone number written down. I’ll go get it.”
“In a minute,” Mitchell said hurriedly. “We’d like to ask just a couple of additional questions.”
“Sure,” she nodded.
He prayed Zoe would shut up, and pushed forward. “Are you sure Wanda didn’t simply run away with Jovan? Decide to start a new life with him?” he asked, trying to touch that raw nerve yet again.
“Of course I’m sure.”
“Why are you so sure, Ms. Johnson? People move all the time.”
“Wanda would never have left her job without telling anyone,” Meredith said angrily, looking at the floor. “She was so responsible. And she’d never… she would have let me know. I’m sure she would have let me know. She would have called me…” Her voice cracked, just a bit. Mitchell leaned forward and touched her wrist lightly. She raised her eyes and met his compassionate stare.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Of course you’re right. It isn’t likely that she just left.”
Her face crumpled, the words she’d wanted to hear for so long finally spoken. As tears ran down her cheeks, she told Mitchell about how close she and her sister had always been. How she was Wanda’s bridesmaid. How Wanda had always protected her when their mother complained that Meredith never aimed high, that she couldn’t find a nice guy, or a good job, or be more like her sister.
Zoe remained silent.
“I kept some of her things,” she said, sniffling. “Once in a while I like to look through them.”
Mitchell didn’t recall Bernard and Hannah mentioning this. “Can we see them?”
“They’re in a storage facility, with some of my stuff,” Meredith said. “Not far away from here. I can call the man at the reception tomorrow, ask him to let you in to take a look.”
“That would be very helpful,” Mitchell said, and Meredith smiled at him with a tear-stained face.
Mitchell realized the problem as soon as they left Meredith’s home. He was mentally preparing himself for the ride back to Glenmore Park when Zoe said her apartment wasn’t very far. Of course, she lived here, it was only natural she’d want to go and sleep in her own bed. Except they’d driven to Boston in her car. He was about to ask if he could take her car to drive home, when she said she had a really comfortable spare bed in the living room.
“Uh, I didn’t really pack…” he began, thinking of all the things he needed. A toothbrush was definitely at the top of the list.
“It’s just one night, Mitchell,” she smiled at him. “I swear, my cousin sleeps at my place all the time, and she says the spare bed is better than the real bed in her home.”
“Yeah, okay,” he said after a second. He could always brush his teeth with his finger. God knew he’d done that more than once when he was in college. They stopped on the way to pick up some Thai food, and then drove to Zoe’s home.
Zoe’s apartment was a small, three-roomed space, sparsely decorated. The air felt a bit dusty, as apartments were bound to be after being left empty for a while. The living room was mostly a couch, a TV, and a small coffee table on which several books were lying.
“I have a fish,” she said, unfolding the couch in the living room into a medium-sized bed. “And some plants. But I took them all to my friend’s apartment when I joined the investigation. I didn’t want to drive to and from Glenmore Park every day.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he said.
She got him some sheets from her bedroom, and then managed to locate an unopened toothbrush in her bathroom.
“I always buy a few,” she said. “I usually throw away my toothbrush after a few months. I don’t like it when it gets worn. It grosses me out.”
They ate the Thai food in silence. Mitchell felt slightly uncomfortable while Zoe seemed completely at ease, chewing as she stared at a random sp
ot on the wall. She ate her noodles with chopsticks, but Mitchell asked for a fork, thinking he should really try to get the hang of chopsticks some day. He felt like a caveman, pushing his fork into the cardboard box like a shovel, noodles constantly dropping from his fork back into the box. Arguably, cavemen didn’t have Thai food, but they probably ate their takeout mammoths the same way. In contrast, Zoe distractedly picked up the noodles with the two thin sticks, opening her mouth delicately to eat, her mind elsewhere.
He went to brush his teeth. He wanted to shower, but didn’t want to step into his worn clothes afterward, so he washed his face and his hair a bit in the sink instead. He had been told several times that his body odor was nice, and he supposed it was time to put that theory to the test yet again.
He lay down on the spare bed, and Zoe went to shower. He tried to close his eyes, feeling exhausted and sleep deprived, but his mind kept churning. It brought up images of Pauline, as it always did in the evening. He wondered for the hundredth time if she’d have stayed with him if he had proposed straight after he bought the ring. Probably not, but a small part of him believed she would have, and he kicked himself repeatedly for not doing so.
The sound of running water stopped, and in the darkness he saw Zoe, wrapped in a bathrobe, come out of the bathroom. The same familiar smell of Pauline’s shampoo lingered behind her as she entered her bedroom. He breathed slowly and tried to relax, hoping sleep would come.
Thoughts about Jovan resurfaced. Would they find anything the following day? Perhaps Wanda’s lover could shed new light on the case, or maybe there was a clue in Wanda’s possessions?
The image of Tanessa lying there in the hospital popped into his mind again. She had tried to act brave, dismissing the entire thing, but he’d seen the pain in her eyes, and the fear. During the day Mitchell felt furious at Captain Marrow for calling off Tanessa’s protection, but at night he would become consumed with guilt, certain it was all his fault for arresting the wrong couple, for creating a distraction. If George hadn’t saved Tanessa, if she had been even slightly slower, she would have been dead. And it was all his fault.
Zoe’s bedroom door opened and she walked into the living room. She was dressed in a long blue shirt that reached the middle of her thighs. She walked closer to him, her bare feet soundless against the floor.
