Day of Atonement

by Yolonda Tonette Sanders

  He shook it. “Thanks, son. You will never know how much our time together has meant to me.”

  Once his dad got out of the car, Troy backed out of the driveway and headed to his mom’s. Though he and his father had broken bread, there were still many feelings that Troy needed to work through. One afternoon of intense conversation wasn’t going to immediately repair the full extent of their damaged relationship, but as Troy had said to his father earlier, it was a start. That should at least mean something and appease his mom and Natalie. It also helped him because his anger toward his dad had been distracting him from his current mission. Troy still had yet to go over information that B.K. had given him. At least now he could do so without increasing resentment for his father clouding his mind.

  For the first time ever, Troy had actually felt sorry for his dad. That in and of itself was a miracle, considering how angry he’d been after seeing the items in his trash can. Troy did not waste any time laying into him either. They hadn’t even made it down the street when Troy started about how horrible of a father, a person, he had been while giving plenty of examples to make his case.

  “Tell me something I don’t know!” Reed shouted back before breaking down, an act that stunned Troy into silence. “Son, have you ever made a mistake so bad that you feel there’s nothing you can do to recover from it? I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to tell you except that I am really sorry for everything and everyone I have hurt.”

  Anyone crying made Troy uncomfortable, but he was especially so when it was another man and that man happened to be his father. He couldn’t exactly wrap his arm around him and console him the way he had done to Natalie last night and with his mom this morning. He’d felt bad for them because he’d felt responsible for their tears. However, Troy did not take any responsibility for the outpouring of emotion displayed by his father. His sympathy came from wondering what it would be like to be in his shoes, to have his son hate him so much that nothing he said or did would make a difference. Troy, who was definitely not a crier, could only imagine the depth of such pain. That, combined with the words spoken by both his mother and his wife, caused him to be slow to speak and simply listen as his dad spoke of his remorse. It’s difficult to verbally beat a person up when they are doing it to themselves. When all was said and done, the men had found what seemed like a happy medium. His father would not try and force the two of them to build a relationship and Troy would not aggressively resist any efforts to do so. They would let it happen gradually and naturally over time.

  Troy never did get around to asking the burning question of “why” as he had planned. It was pointless. No answer would be satisfactory. If they were going to move forward, Troy knew he had to bury the past and let forgiveness work itself into his heart one day at a time.

  Troy got back to his mom’s shortly after 2:00. The house, smelling quite pleasant, was quieter than he’d expected. Natalie and his mom had been baking when he’d left. Troy followed the smell into the kitchen to get a sneak peek, and perhaps even a taste, of what they had been whipping up. He was surprised to find his mom sitting at the table, starting into space. “What did I do now?”

  She smiled. “Nothin’. Thanks for makin’ an effort to talk to your dad. He told me that y’all worked out your relationship issues.”

  Troy would not have exactly worded it that way, but he let it roll. “So why are you sitting here looking like you lost your best friend? Where are Natalie and Nate?”

  “They’re upstairs. Natalie’s mad at me and Nate probably thinks I’m crazy.”

  She filled him in on the broom incident and got mad when he started laughing at her. “It’s not funny! It’s bad luck to get your feet swept.”

  “Why? What supposedly happens?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But you know that spitting on the broom cancels the curse? Humph…yeah, that makes sense.”

  “I’m not crazy, I’m cautious. Bad things happen in life, you know? We don’t have to invite them into our lives. Superstitions have some truth to them, otherwise they would not have told us about them.”

  “I don’t know who they are, but all of y’all are crazy,” he said, grabbing a sugar cookie off the tray. “Is it okay for me to walk and eat this at the same time or will I have bad luck?”

  She tried swatting a kitchen towel at him but he dodged out the way, laughing as he headed out and went upstairs to check on his wife and son.

  They were both knocked out with Natalie’s arm wrapped lovingly around Nate’s young body. It was a Kodak moment for sure. Troy snapped a picture with his phone with the intentions of sending it to Natalie later to do whatever she wanted with it. Ever since a serial killer whom Troy was after last summer sent a friend request to Natalie’s daughter after searching his friends’ list to find her, Troy had all but deactivated his Facebook account. Everything was now set to private and no one could post to his page unless they were replying to something he wrote. Though he was not one to regularly post updates, this was a picture he would have shared. Nowadays, he stayed clear of sharing anything personal as not to inadvertently put his family in jeopardy.

  Troy could have stood there staring at Natalie, Nate and the twins until they woke up, but he wanted to take advantage of the few moments he would have to review Elana’s case. He kissed Natalie gently on her cheek and lightly patted Nate’s head before grabbing Elana’s case file and heading into his sister’s old room.

  He stared at several photos that had been taken of Elana’s adult body. Instantly, her birthmark stood out. It was indeed very distinctive. Located immediately below her left collar bone, it was heart-shaped, but not symmetrical by any means. The right half was nearly twice the size of the left. When the two halves met, they fish-tailed to the right with a tiny spiral curl at the end. To Troy’s understanding, pictures of her birthmark had not been circulated in the media per the request of Lilly. Troy understood her desire to keep a piece of Elana private, but Elana’s birthmark was so unique that if anyone had ever seen it, they would have certainly remembered it. Maybe it could help generate some leads. Perhaps he would run it by B.K., he thought, as he glanced through the rest of the autopsy report.

  The autopsy started at 8:30 a.m. on…body presented in a black body bag…victim is wearing a white tank top and navy blue shorts…

  Troy would be the first to remark that December in Texas is nothing like December in Ohio, but still he wondered why Elana wore a tank top and shorts. He continued skimming the report.

  The body is that of a normally developed African American female measuring 67 inches, 165 pounds…Cause of death: craniocerebral trauma due to a gunshot wound to the head…semen found…further examination of the pelvic area indicates that the victim has given birth some time within the last year.

  Troy did a double-take to make sure he’d read that correctly.

  After reading for a third time, there was no denying the information. It was there. Immediately, he pulled out B.K’s business card and dialed him. “Why didn’t you tell me that Elana had a baby?”

  “Ah, Detective Evans, I’ve been awaiting your phone call,” he said cunningly. Troy could imagine the smirk on his face. “That’s a bit of information that investigators do not want to be leaked to the public. I didn’t think it was something I needed to mention at this time in front of Elvin. The family has enough unanswered questions about Elana. The last thing they need right now is to compound those questions with more about a baby who could have been stillborn for all we know. My first step is to help find out what happened to Elana. In the meantime, I do have someone looking into whether any babies mysteriously showed up on doorsteps or at hospitals.”

  As a friend, Troy didn’t like keeping this information from Elvin or Lilly, but as a fellow detective, he fully understood B.K.’s reasoning. “Do you think it’s weird that Elana had on a tank top and shorts?”

  “Not necessarily. Some people wear shorts all year long. I’m more concerned with finding the p
rimary crime scene. We know that Elana’s body was moved after she died. Personally, I believe that whoever took Elana thirty years ago is the same person who placed her body alongside I-Forty-five. He could have easily taken her deeper into the field, but he didn’t. Assuming it was his semen inside of her, I think he wanted her to be found and he is also confident that any DNA on her can’t be linked to him. Maybe he’s finally feeling some remorse about what he’d done to her.”

  “So, do we check out the person who is crying harder than anyone else tomorrow night?”

  “We look at everyone. Her abductor may not even be there. If he is remorseful, I’m guessing it would be hard for him to see all the hearts he’d broken. I could be way off base since I’m not a profiler.”

  “I want to go with you to Hitchcock when you see Herbert. He wasn’t at the wake yesterday and if he’s not there tomorrow, based on what you said, he could be the number one suspect.”

  “I was only speculating and we both know that speculation is not fact. From what I understand Mr. Greenfield is not in good health. Why don’t you finish looking through everything I gave you and we’ll touch base after your meeting with Shauna.”

  “When are you going to Hitchcock?” Troy was determined to get a straight answer from B.K. “I’m not trying to get in your way, but this case is personal to me.”

  “All the more reason why you need to step back. I appreciate your desire to help, but you’re too close. You’re going to miss something.”

  “Then it’s a good thing that we are working this case together. I’m sure you’ll find whatever it is I overlook. Now, when are we going to visit Herbert?”

  Chapter 16: Running Scared

  After his phone call with B.K. and establishing a time they would hook up, Troy continued looking through the file and B.K.’s notes. Elana had been shot with a .22 revolver. With the lax gun registration laws in Texas, it would not be easy to determine which of the suspicious characters owned one.

  The case file did not yield much in terms of evidence. With the exception of learning that Elana had given birth, nothing else stood out. Everything else was consistent with what he’d already been told—red fibers that were found on her, angle of the gunshot wound, position and location of the body. With such little information, finding who kidnapped Elana would be like searching for a needle in a haystack, but Troy had closed cases with fewer leads before. He would not return home until this mystery was solved.

  The ringing of his cell phone startled him. It was Natalie. “Hey, sorry to bother you, I figured you’d be back by now. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, everything is fine.”

  “How’d things go with your dad?’

  Troy gave her a quick synopsis of his conversation with his father while gathering all of his stuff together, still not letting on that he was down the hall. “He’s coming back tonight and he will be with us for Christmas, so all is right in Mama’s world now.”

  As soon as he walked into the bedroom, Nate ran and jumped in his arms. “Daa-dee!”

  “Hey, what’s up, lil’ man?”

  “Did you just get here?” asked Natalie.

  “Naw. I’ve been here for a minute. You guys were asleep so I went in Tracy’s room to do some work. Mama told me what happened.”

  “Gigi spit on ‘da broom,” blurted Nate.

  “I know. Gigi is a little cuckoo like that, but she did not mean to scare you, okay? What about you?” He looked at Natalie.

  “She didn’t scare me.” Her tone indicated that she still had an obvious attitude about the incident. “She’s tripping me out with all of her superstitions.”

  “What are super-titions?”

  Natalie looked at Troy. “I’m going to let you handle this one since it has to do with your mother. Plus, I need to pee.”

  After giving him a quick peck on the cheek, she left.

  “Daa-dee, what are super-titions?” Nate repeated impatiently.

  Troy looked at his son and chuckled, wondering how best to explain the concept.

  • • •

  On Christmas Eve, the church was packed with relatives and friends from near and far who came to show Elana her last respects. There were even more people today than there were on Saturday. Troy was certain that the building’s maximum capacity limit had been exceeded. There were news crews present, but they were not allowed to come inside. Elana’s case had started generating some buzz as pictures of her as a child had started circulating. People seemed more intrigued with the mystery surrounding her disappearance and resurfacing three decades later than the emotional turmoil this had on Elvin and Lilly. Still, any media attention given to the case meant the possibility that a witness would come forth. Someone had to know something.

  Troy and his family sat behind Lilly and her blonde wig, Jeff, Elvin, Nicole, and their boys. It was him, Natalie, Nate, and his mom. Tracy had decided not to come after all, telling their mom that she had to finish Christmas shopping. It was a pretty lame excuse in Troy’s opinion, but in Tracy’s defense, she wasn’t as close to Elvin and his family as he was. She was only four when Elana went missing, and other than the first few months after Elana disappeared when their mom was at Lilly’s consoling her, Tracy did not spend much time there. Troy wondered if shopping was an excuse she’d made up simply not to go. Either that or she and Al had gotten into it and she was maybe a little too bruised to make an appearance. That had been known to happen before. Troy did not let his mind linger too long on that possibility as not to get himself worked up.

  Troy scanned the crowd of others coming in, looking for anyone who seemed suspicious. B.K. had his theory that Elana’s abductor might not show up, but Troy didn’t want to put too much stock into that possibility. Why wouldn’t the guy show up? He hadn’t been suspected of anything for the last thirty years. Why feel bad now?

  Why now? That was the burning question in Troy’s mind. Why, after all this time, did he kill Elana? If she had access to the gun, why didn’t she shoot her abductor? There were so many aspects of this case that did not make sense.

  During the service, Troy’s emotions toggled between guilt and anger. Both vied equally for attention and surprisingly, Troy held it together. He didn’t exactly anticipate crying a river, but he would not have been embarrassed if he had shed a tear or two. The man in him wanted to cry, but the cop in him was on duty.

  Lilly handled the service very well. She did cry, but nothing like the breakdown she’d had Saturday. While Elvin and Jeff consoled her, Troy found himself sitting in the middle of his own mother and Natalie, holding Nate, and also patting their backs as tears trickled down both of their faces. His mother he expected, but Natalie? Then again he should have known she would empathize with Lilly. Natalie could be soft-hearted, especially when it came to a parent who lost a child.

  Bill eventually took the podium and Troy watched warily as he began his speech. “The family and I want to thank all of you fuh-fuh-fuhor coming out today. My sister and nephew nuh-nuh-need your prayers. W-w-w-we all do. This is a tuh-tuh-tuh-tough time for our family.” He loosened the jacket to his lime-green tux, an outfit that Troy found disturbing on so many levels. “S-s-s-s-s-s-someone else bears the re-re-re-responsibility for my niece lying in this c-c-c-casket.”

  Shouts of “amen” were hurled his way from the crowd. This was the wrong thing to do if people ever wanted to go home because it only fired Bill up. He went on and on about how God was going to bring all things to “frutation,” rather “fru-fru-fru-tation,” which Troy was beginning to think was his favorite word, and how whoever dumped Elana on the side of the road off of the back of his truck like she was garbage would eventually pay.

  Bill talked so much that the pastor giving the eulogy came and politely stood beside him, subtly encouraging him to wrap things up. At one point the pastor even placed his hand on top of Bill’s around the mic. That was when Bill finally got the message and apologized for being “lequocious.”

  “What does t
hat mean?” Natalie leaned and whispered.

  “I have no clue.” Troy was simply glad Bill was able to get the word out on the first try. Chances are, he had mispronounced it.

  The rest of the service continued without a hitch. Other family members expressed much shorter words of thanks and memories of Elana. As they were proceeding out, Troy noticed that several strands of Nicole’s hair had come out of place and revealed the shiny half-dollar-like bald spot in her head. Natalie must have seen it, too, because she nudged him for staring. Unlike him who didn’t know the proper protocol for such a scenario, Natalie tapped Nicole on the shoulder and whispered something in her ear. Nicole’s hand immediately shot up to her head to correct the error and then she looked back at Natalie for assurance.

  Instead of following the family to the cemetery, Troy stayed behind to help set up tables at the church since this was where the family would come back for dinner. More than Bill’s ridiculously long speech, or Herbert Greenfield’s still not making an appearance, Troy was disturbed by the absence of Elana and Elvin’s biological father. Troy did not notice Mr. Campbell wasn’t there until he overheard some of Elvin’s relatives who had also stayed behind talk about how odd it was for Mr. Campbell not to be there. “If she was my daughter, there is nothing that could keep me away,” one older lady said.

  “I know that’s right. I think it was so tacky that his wife came without him,” another woman with a gray wig that sat a little too crooked chimed in. “I heard her tell someone that Edgar was having a hard time handling this. That man probably ain’t spoken to Lilly since that chile went missing and now all of a sudden, he’s too broken up to come to the service. Sumthin’ don’t sound right to me.”