by Becky Durfee
“I do realize in hindsight how unfair that was to her. She wanted a husband. She deserved a husband, but I couldn’t offer her that. I mean, I was always faithful to her, and I always loved her, but I didn’t even come close to providing her with what she needed.”
“Do I sound too wishy-washy if I say I can relate to that, too?” Jenny posed with a smile.
“Can you?”
“Sure. The psychic mind doesn’t come with an off switch. I’ve had some very poorly timed contacts along the way. I missed appointments with Greg; I broke promises to him. But I truly have no control over when the spirits decide to make their presence known, so I couldn’t help it. I just wished he would have understood that.”
“Exactly,” Elijah said. “So did I. It wasn’t as if I was ignoring her on purpose. Lives were at stake. I think logically she knew that, and she recognized why I had to be so unavailable. But after a while I’m pretty sure she started to regret marrying me. If she had known in advance what her life was going to be like married to a homicide detective, I think she would have married someone else.” He snorted again. “Who am I kidding? She is marrying someone else. Her wedding is scheduled for June.”
Jenny pulled her hair back into a ponytail, fastening it with the band she perpetually kept around her wrist. “The story of your divorce is a little bit sad, really. It’s not like there’s a bad guy. You both had really good intentions, and you both had really clear visions of what you wanted your lives to be like. It just seems like your visions couldn’t coexist.”
“No, they really couldn’t. But when we were young and in college, we just loved each other. That was all that mattered. We really didn’t give much consideration to the logistics. I was going to be a homicide detective, she was going to be a stay-at-home mom, and somehow, it was just going to work.”
“It’s funny how we romanticize our futures sometimes, isn’t it?” Jenny confessed. “I just did it recently. My husband had suggested we move from Kentucky to Georgia to renovate an old house. I figured it would be exciting to get up and move on a whim…you know, kind of like me and Greg against the world. I thought fixing up an old house would be rewarding, too. I didn’t count on the fourteen hour days of backbreaking work that went into a renovation.”
“Sometimes we don’t think things through, do we?”
“We sure don’t.” Jenny said emphatically. She rested her chin on her knee, softened her tone and posed, “So do you regret becoming a homicide detective? I mean, if you knew the toll it was going to take on your personal life, would you still have done it?”
Elijah nodded slightly. “Yeah. I would. Honestly, I’ve known that this is what I’ve wanted to do ever since Lena was killed.”
“Wow. She was really your inspiration, wasn’t she?”
Elijah looked distant. “She really was.” A look of genuine sadness appeared on his face. “It was just so tragic. So senseless. She was such a beautiful young girl, hunted down in the prime of her life.” He looked over at Jenny. “It’s haunted me. It did then and it does now. I’ve seen a lot of horrors on this job, but this is still the one that stings the most. I think it’s because I knew her personally. I used to see her in the halls at high school, and then one day she was gone. It was the first brush with death I’d ever experienced, and it was violent. It left a lasting impact on me.”
Sensing Elijah’s pain, Jenny said, “You know, I think it would mean a lot to her to know that you’ve been trying so hard to get her case solved.”
“But it hasn’t gotten me anywhere,” Elijah protested.
“I’m not sure that would matter,” Jenny reasoned. “From what you’ve said, she most likely felt friendless here. She probably believed that nobody would have missed her if she died. But look at those stacks of paper over there.” Jenny gestured to the huge file on the coffee table. “That’s a lot of work that you’ve put in. Clearly, she mattered to you. And I know she’s aware of it, because she’s trying to get a message to you.”
Elijah remained silent.
“You look like you feel guilty,” Jenny surmised.
“I do.”
“About what? You don’t have anything to feel guilty about. You didn’t do this.” Jenny paused before adding with a smile, “Did you?”
“No, I didn’t kill her,” Elijah said with faint laugh, which faded very quickly. “I just regret the way I treated her when she was alive. If I could go back in time I would have introduced myself to her and tried to make her feel at home…not because she was pretty, but because she was a human being. But because she was so striking, every guy was intimidated by her, and every girl was threatened by her. The end result was that nobody gave her the time of day.
“As an adult, though, I can’t help but focus on the fact that she was somebody’s daughter. Now that I have a daughter of my own, I can’t imagine her being treated that way. Did Lena used to go home and cry because nobody would talk to her? Did her father have to try to explain to her that it was us and not her that was the problem?” Elijah closed his eyes and shook his head. “I just feel so bad for her.”
“Hey,” Jenny said, nudging him with her foot. “If you’re not careful, I’m going to write I am weak on your forehead. But I’m not as nice as you are. I’ll use a Sharpie.”
Elijah managed a laugh. “Yeah, sorry. I guess I am getting a little sappy.”
“It’s all good,” Jenny replied. “I just don’t want you, at thirty-three, to be harboring guilt over something a stupid eighteen-year-old boy did. You can’t apply your current maturity and principles to a high school kid. That isn’t fair.” She continued, “But, I’m totally a hypocrite right now because I would probably be doing the same thing if I were in your shoes. It’s just easier to see how unproductive it is when someone else is doing it.”
“I guess it is pretty unproductive, huh?”
“Beating yourself up usually is.” Jenny stretched while letting out a big yawn. “But do you know what isn’t unproductive? Sleep. Which I desperately need.”
“That’s right. You’ve had a very long day, haven’t you?”
“Perhaps one of the longest in my life.” Jenny stood up. “I’ve got about a twenty minute drive to the hotel. I think I can make it. And then I’m going to sleep for about sixteen hours.”
“Are you going to be able to drive safely? If you’re really that tired, you can sleep here if you want.”
Jenny wasn’t sure exactly what she was being invited to do, and that confusion must have been apparent on her face.
Biting his lip to keep from laughing, Elijah added, “We have a guest room. It’s where my mom sleeps when I have to work late and she’s here watching Samantha.”
Once again Jenny found herself laughing at her own misconception. “I’m sorry. I think our mothers and their bold assumptions have gotten to me.”
“That’s okay,” Elijah said. “I probably should have mentioned the guest room when I extended the invitation. To be honest with you, I hadn’t even considered the other implication. I’ve kind of shut off that part of my life. I haven’t gone on a date since Amanda left.”
“Really?” Jenny asked. “Why is that?”
“I just know that with my profession, I can’t be the man that most women are looking for. I learned that the hard way with Amanda, and everyone just got hurt by it. I figure I’m better off not even going there.”
“That’s actually very admirable of you.”
“Thanks. But it’s also the reason my mother flew out of here like a bat out of hell when she saw you. She’s been after me to start dating again for over a year now. She doesn’t understand why I’m not out there, trying to find another woman. She thinks I’m still hung up on Amanda, but that isn’t it. I just know my profession doesn’t lend itself to being a good partner.” Elijah hung his head. “I’m also afraid it doesn’t lend itself to being a good father.”
“Are you kidding?” Jenny demanded. “You were just amazing with Samantha.”
&nb
sp; “Thanks. I do try to make the most of the time that I’m with her. The problem is that I can’t always be with her, even when it’s my time to have her. Sometimes on my nights I’m not even home at all; she’s here with my mom. If my beeper goes off in the middle of her school play, I have to leave. I’m just afraid that eventually she’s going to start feeling like Amanda did—like she’s second best. That’s the last thing I want for my daughter.”
“Well, hopefully she’ll understand.”
“I think maybe as an adult she will. But I have the feeling that before that, she’s going to go through a phase where she doesn’t.”
Jenny patted Elijah on his shoulder. “Just keep being the best dad you can when you’re with her. That’s all you can do.”
“Thanks,” Elijah replied. “Now, about that guest room…”
Jenny laughed. “Thanks for the offer. Really. But all my stuff’s at the hotel, so I think I’d rather just tough it out for another half an hour and be where my stuff is.”
“Okay. Please drive safe. I of all people know how someone’s life can take an unexpected turn in a split second.”
Jenny looked at Elijah. “You and me both.”
Jenny rolled over and looked at the alarm clock. Eleven. She’d slept right through the continental breakfast. With a stretch she nestled under the covers feeling remarkably comfortable.
Then her brain started.
Elijah’s words echoed through her head. Was it really fair to be a spouse and a parent when your job called you away at any given moment? If Jenny did have those children she so desperately wanted, would she have to leave in the middle of the school plays? And the soccer games? And the dance recitals? Would she miss the baby’s first steps because she was in another city solving a case? Would her beloved children grow up believing their mother didn’t care?
Suddenly everything Jenny knew to be fact was becoming cloudy. Three days ago she was positive she wanted to leave Greg, and she was equally as certain she wanted children. Now she wasn’t sure if she was being too rash with her decision to leave her husband, and she was questioning her ability to be a suitable parent. Frustrated with her own inability to turn her brain off, she threw the covers off of her and put her feet on the floor. She reached for her cell phone, which had been on silent, and she noticed she had a text from Zack.
Please call me. Kyle Buchanan has found your father.
Chapter 7
“Hey,” Jenny said when Zack picked up. “He found my…he found Roddan?”
“He sure did. Do you want the information?”
“Sure,” Jenny said. “Let me just get something to write with.”
“Okay…How’s it going up there?” Zack posed as he waited. “Are you getting anywhere with the case?”
“Actually, yes. We may have it narrowed down to three. Lena started screaming at a restaurant last night, and three guys she went to high school with were there. Looking back through the notes, Elijah noticed their alibis were a bit sketchy. He plans to contact them again this morning.”
“Cool. Well done.”
“Thanks. I have a pen now. What is Roddan’s information?”
“Well, his full name is Roddan Andi Epperly. That’s Andi with an i.”
“That sounds girly,” Jenny noted.
“Hey, I didn’t name the guy. He apparently lives in Orting, Washington.” He gave Jenny the specific address and phone number.
Jenny looked at the piece of paper in front of her. There he was—her birth father—a man completely unaware that she even existed. Since this was now much more real, she suddenly became nervous about the reaction he would have when she called him and sprung the news. Perhaps she would have to rehearse what she was going to say before she called him.
Returning to the present, she said, “Thanks, Zack. So how are things back in Georgia?”
“Good. I’m starting to pack. It seems like for every one thing I pack, I discover there are four more things that need packing. This is going to take a long time.”
“Any word on when we’ll be moving?”
“Not yet, but I should pack now anyway. You never know when we’re going to become very busy.”
“True.” Zack and Jenny continued to talk for another twenty minutes until Jenny announced she was dying for breakfast. “Or lunch,” she added. “I may have bypassed breakfast.”
After quick goodbyes with Zack, she took a hot shower and headed out to a local deli for a sandwich. She decided to bring it back to her hotel room where she could relax and watch some mindless television as she ate. After the last three days, she needed to just take it easy for a while.
When she was almost finished with her lunch, her phone rang. “Why, hello Elijah,” she said as she answered. “How are you today?”
“Doing well, thanks. How are you?”
“Much better than yesterday at this time,” she confessed. “What’s up?”
“I just got through re-interviewing Mark Smalls. He had quite an interesting tale to tell.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes indeed. I was wondering if you could come in and watch the tape of the interview. I don’t want to tell you about it; I want you to watch it yourself in case Lena has any comments to make.”
“I can do that,” Jenny said. Elijah gave her the address of the police station, and after she finished her sandwich she headed straight there. She found her way back to Elijah’s desk, and he guided her to a private viewing room.
“You ready for this?” he asked as he put his finger on the play button.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Jenny saw the image of Elijah sitting across a desk from one of the men she’d seen at the bar the night before. The man looked distraught, rocking back and forth in his chair, resting his head in his hands. “Can you state your name, please?”
“Mark Smalls,” the man said.
“Okay, Mark, I want to ask you a few questions about the night Lena Christova was killed. Do you remember that night, Mark?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me where you were on the night in question?”
“I was at Jacob Crawley’s party.”
“And who did you go there with?” Elijah posed.
“Adam DeWalt and Nick Bruccato.”
“And what did you do once you got to the party?”
“We played cards at first. Adam got really drunk. And then after that we just circulated for a while. You know, hung out.”
“Were you drinking that night?”
“No,” Mark said. “I drove.”
“Did you have any contact with Lena that night?”
Mark let out a sigh. “Yeah,” he said with a subtle nod. “And I didn’t tell you about it before.”
“So what happened between you and Lena?”
Mark placed his hands over his face, wiping them down to his chin. “It was on our way home. I was driving, Nick was in the passenger seat, and Adam was in the back.”
“And what kind of car were you driving?”
“A Geo Metro.”
“What color was that car?”
“Silver,” Mark replied.
Jenny felt a tingle within her, but she was under the impression those were her own nerves she was feeling, not Lena’s.
“Okay, so what happened when you were driving home?”
“I was on my way to bring Adam home, and we saw Lena walking by herself on the side of the road.”
“What road were you on?”
“Eastgate. Lena was walking in the same direction we were driving, so I pulled over and Nick asked her if she wanted a ride. She thought about it for a minute, and then she agreed. She got in the back of the car with Adam, and we kept driving.”
“Did you take her home?”
Mark pinched the bridge of his nose. “No.”
“Where did you take her?”
“We just started driving around. She didn’t seem too upset at first, but then Adam started making moves on her. He was
so drunk he wasn’t even subtle about it. He was, like, pawing at her. She kept telling him to stop, and he wouldn’t. Even Nick and I were telling him to cool it, but he was drunk beyond reason. Eventually Lena got so upset she started banging on my headrest telling me to stop. I assumed she wanted me to stop the car, so I did, and she got out.”
“Do you remember where that was?”
“Mathison Road.” Mark said. “Near Bartlett.”
“And what happened then?”
Mark’s voice became shaky. “I drove off. I left her there. All alone on the side of the road in the middle of the night.” He covered his face with his hands again; this time he began to cry.
“So you’re saying she was alive when you left her?”
Mark nodded. “Yes.”
“Did you see her after that?”
“No.”
On the video, Elijah stroked his goatee. “Okay, so if all you did was give her a ride, why did you lie about that when we interviewed you originally?”
“Because we were scared. As soon as we found out she had been killed, we got together and agreed we weren’t going to mention that we saw her. We were just going to tell everyone that we’d gone straight home.”
“What were you scared of?”
“Being accused,” Mark confessed. “Looking like assholes for leaving her there. Making Adam look like a complete jerk for treating her so badly. Take your pick. We figured we’d be better off just denying everything.”
Elijah leaned forward. “Do you realize you’ve impeded this investigation for fifteen years?”
Mark cried freely. “Yes.”
“And if you lied to me back then, why should I believe you are telling me the truth now when you say you left her alive?”
“You shouldn’t,” he replied through sobs. “You have no reason to. I know that. But I swear I’m telling the truth this time. I have two daughters now, and so help me God—if ten years from now some piece-of-shit teenage asshole dropped one of them off on the side of the road after midnight because she wouldn’t put out in the back seat of a car, I’d fucking kill the bastard myself. And I did that. I did that to somebody’s daughter. And she was killed. KILLED.” Mark put his head on the desk and cried mercilessly. “I should have taken her home,” he said through sobs. “What the fuck was I thinking?”
