“He lost his wife to cancer about two years ago. Hasn’t been the same since.” He used his index fingers to wipe under his eyes. Because Lt. Sullivan had lost his own wife just a few years ago, Grace imagined the topic drummed up some of his own feelings. “His wife was a doll too. Always active in the community. She used to make meals for high school students. She was the mom that had all her kids’ friends over for pool parties and gatherings.”
“He has kids too?”
“Yeah, boy and a girl. I think one of them still lives around here.” He used his fingers to massage his forehead as if to pull a memory to the surface. “Yeah, it’s the daughter…she works over at one of those salons down in the town center. It’s hard not to recognize her…she looks just like Michael, minus the added weight and red face.”
“And the slur?”
“Yeah, that too. Good-lookin’ girl. She’s at the salon that has those painted rocks in front of it.”
How could Grace forget the painted rocks? Every time she walked by those rocks she felt a sense of peace. Words of inspiration were scrawled across the brightly colored rocks painted by a few locals. Love. Dream big. Be Kind. It was like a rainbow reminder of how to behave. Unfortunately, not everyone followed those rules.
“Pinard should be bringing Michael in to sober up for a bit,” Grace said as she smoothed the counter top with her hands, her bracelet charm hitting the surface and making a light tapping noise. Mark gave it to her last Christmas, just a couple of weeks after they had been dating. Grace wasn’t much of a jewelry girl, but this specific piece managed to find a place in her heart, much in the same way that Mark did. The bracelet was simple, made of a thin braided brown leather band. The word “brave” was engraved on the silver rectangle that sat in the middle. After Mark had learned about Grace’s ‘gift’ of being able to see into the eyes of criminals, he didn’t laugh at her or accuse her of lying. Instead, he had listened intently, and always called her brave for using her gift to help others. “I’m going to head over to the school for a quick meeting.”
“Okay, girl,” Lt. Sullivan went back to focusing on the Bridgeton Press splayed out on the desk in front of him.
Normally Grace wouldn’t be partial to someone calling her “girl,” but Lt. Sullivan was different. He was the exception to the rule, kind of like the father she never had.
Like most things in the town of Bridgeton, the police department was walking distance from the elementary school where the fundraiser meeting was being held, so Grace decided to get some steps in and walk. For early June, the sun was exceptionally hot, and she could feel the heat on her fingertips when she adjusted the sunglasses on her head. She walked past the middle school and took note of some underage smokers hanging out on the side of the building. A few moms pushed strollers by her in a single line while maintaining their conversation about a yoga class they had taken in town. Grace couldn’t imagine herself being a mother, but she still envied those mothers who had an instant bond with one another because they had done the unfathomable with their bodies and created another human being. It was no surprise that mothers joined together like they were in a secret club. She was afraid it was a club she would never be a part of and that always tugged at her heart strings. As she approached the parking lot to the elementary school, she could see a few stragglers entering the building carrying oversized cardboard signs. She held the door for one woman balancing an overstuffed box of decorations. Various rolls of different-colored crepe paper sat on top, looking like they were on the verge of unraveling in a matter of seconds.
“You need some help with that?” Grace asked.
“Oh, I think I got it,” the woman managed to take her eyes off the box and greet Grace with a smile. “Thank you though. This is perfect timing.” She gestured to the door that Grace was holding open for her.
“You’re welcome. I assume you are going to the parade meeting?”
“Yes, I am.” The woman stopped for a minute, taking Grace in with her sparkling, brown eyes. “Hey, you’re that girl detective. Is it McKenna?”
“That’s me,” Grace said, used to being defined by her gender. She got it; it was a rarity in the police world.
“My older daughter went to school with Mackenzie… Waterford,” she said as if they were simply discussing their favorite type of music. Grace was used to people bringing up the Waterford case. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, and considering Grace was the only female cop in the town until just a month prior, she stuck out like a sore thumb. People remembered the cases she covered and the Waterford one was memorable.
“So, you have a younger one at the elementary school too?” Grace diverted the conversation as she let the woman unknowingly lead her to the meeting room.
“Yeah, Mason is my younger one…we had him several years after the girls. A bit of a ‘whoops’ moment but you didn’t hear that from me,” she said.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?” Grace leaned in to shake the woman’s hand but stopped herself when she remembered her hands were full with the overstuffed box.
“I’m Dina. Dina Woodward,” the woman said, just seconds before she was surrounded by a gaggle of other moms her age. They all started to remove the box’s content like seagulls pecking away at snacks left over on the beach. The women immediately engaged in witty banter amongst themselves as an older man hammered away at a wooden rowboat in the corner of the room, accompanied by a group of older ladies telling him what to do. As soon as Grace saw Miriam, she was overcome with a feeling of accomplishment and fear at the same time. Accomplishment for tracking her down so quickly and fear for knowing what no one else knew—that this woman, who appeared innocent on the outside, was quite possibly the murderer of some man whose identity Grace needed to figure out. Miriam was in a deep conversation with a middle-aged woman, her hands resting easily on her hips and her head nodding along. She looked at her watch and suddenly transformed into a different person.
“Alright everyone, let’s get started, no dilly-dallying today.” Miriam clapped her hands and everyone slid into the folding chairs that were lined up in rows. Grace slipped to the back of the room, hoping to go unnoticed.
“So, does everyone have what they are supposed to have today?” Miriam took command of the room like she was a dictator. Everyone looked at her eagerly as they held up their designated supplies, showing them off like they were eager students trying to please their teacher.
For a moment, Grace was afraid she had entered the wrong room. Surely this wasn’t the same woman she had just talked to in the town center. It was as if Miriam went from a hunched-over question mark to a bold exclamation point in a matter of minutes. After she laid out the meeting agenda, she was bombarded by questions at the front of the room. Everyone seemed to pine for Miriam’s approval. Her minions went to work setting up various stations geared toward creating the float, and the room instantly transformed into a workshop of little elves taping, gluing, and coloring various pieces of cardboard, connecting pieces together by way of crafty strings. Grace’s interest was piqued, so she waltzed over to Dina and a cluster of women busy taking out the decorations one by one.
“I found these at the dollar store and I couldn’t pass them up,” said a woman with cropped blonde hair as she pulled a few crowns out of her oversized purse. “You know the girls will love these, and maybe we can attach little sea life creatures or something on them.”
Grace inserted herself into the gaggle of women. They were so consumed with building the perfect float that they failed to even notice she was there.
“So, what exactly are you guys making?” she asked, trying to sound like she was one of them, when she was so clearly not. As if she just gave them the most shocking news, they all suddenly looked up, tearing their eyes off the decorations, and stared at her for much too long, like they had just realized there was an outsider in the room and were threatened that news about their float would leak to the rest of the town.
“Hey, ladies, this is
Grace, the girl detective in town.” Dina stepped in, her introduction acting as an approval for the other ladies to have permission to talk to her. And just like that, they all shared wide grins and appeared to relax, falling back into what they were doing. “We are doing an ‘Under the Sea’ theme, so we are gonna have everyone dressed as different sea creatures, present company included,” Dina said proudly as the rest of the moms broke out in a fit of laughter. Grace wondered if there was a secret language that only moms knew, because she was lost on the joke.
“Check this out; these are going to look so cute.” Dina pulled out a fishing line with several seashells and starfish decorations hanging from them.
“So, who is in your group?”
“Well, it will be my two little ones, Jessie’s three girls, Beth’s twins, and of course Miriam’s granddaughter. We couldn’t do this without Miriam; she’s like the force behind the float and the fundraiser. The woman is a godsend.”
“How do you guys know her? I mean… is she on the activity board or something?” Grace tried to sound casual.
“Oh gosh, no… she is Christie’s mother-in-law. Christie!?” Dina shouted, and suddenly a woman on the other side of the room flipped a long, brown mane and shot a wide grin in their direction. She walked toward them, her hair bouncing in all the right places and settling in a perfect frame around her face when she stopped in front of them.
“Hey ladies.” Deep brown eyes brightened in friendly recognition. “What can I help you with?”
“Oh, we don’t need your help, you just relax, mama,” Dina said, eyeing the small bump protruding from Christie’s belly. “I was just bragging about Miriam to Detective…”
“McKenna,” Grace smiled, trying hard to not look at Christie’s belly. She always struggled with the appropriate things to say to pregnant women.
“Nice to meet you, Detective,” Christie flashed another wide grin in Grace’s direction. This time Grace noticed her perfectly colored lips and wondered if that was lipstick or the natural shade. “And I’m gonna take you up on your offer to relax, I feel like I’m hefting a full-grown toddler around in this big belly. I’m a cow! This baby is gonna be a beast.” She guided herself backward into one of the folding chairs, let out a deep breath and extended her legs in front of her, revealing ten pink polished toenails. Grace instantly felt insecure in front of her, as her toenails alone made Grace look like she just slapped herself together in two seconds, which was partially true. She made a mental note to start putting more effort into her appearance or Mark might leave her for one of these well-manicured moms.
While Grace didn’t know a whole lot about babies and pregnancy, she did know that this woman looked like anything but a cow. She was either extremely humble or she was in complete denial that she was drop-dead gorgeous. Her little bump, perfectly round, protruded just enough to make it clear that a baby was growing in there; however, the rest of her body looked like it could be on the cover of a fashion magazine.
“Grammy!” The screeching voice of a little girl made several sets of eyes look up and away from the projects they were focused on. A pint-sized girl with shiny, dark brown hair pulled back into two French braids came bounding into the room darting for Miriam, who had yet to realize that Grace was in the room. She held her hands out as the little girl barreled into her arms, her unicorn backpack fixed to her like a colorful shell on a tortoise.
“Kloe!” Miriam’s face remained lit up from the moment the little girl entered the room until she reached her arms. “How was school today, my love?”
“I made a sun out of watercolor and Miss Stacey read my favorite book to the class…”
Suddenly a man approached Christie from behind and rested his hands on the back of her chair while leaning down to kiss the top of her forehead.
“Hey, big guy,” Christie said looking up at his towering frame. Without knowing him, Grace felt as if this guy had no trouble commanding a room’s attention. It wasn’t just his height but also the way he walked: with a purpose subtle enough to not be misconstrued as arrogant but direct enough that everyone around knew he had direct intentions of getting something done. Kloe ran over to them and inserted herself between the chair and her dad. The three of them looked like they’d walked into a salon and chose the exact same hair color from one of those color swatches. Dark brown with hints of natural highlights and a thickness that was rare for both men and women. Grace imagined they were the envy of their friends with their powerful good looks. She fancied their Christmas cards as being the photos that are used inside frames in gift shops, giving customers the feeling that they too could look like this perfect family if they bought the frame and displayed it in their house.
“Did you give Grammy the painting you made for her?”
“Oops, I forgot.” Kloe hit her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Grammy!”
Like most girls her age, everything Kloe did and said was with a lot of excitement. The moment that Miriam turned around, Grace could feel her eyes on her. She caught the woman off-guard, in her own element. Grace avoided eye contact and instead kept her focus on the little girl.
“What did you make me?” Miriam knelt down so she was eye level with Kloe.
“Here, it is… somewhere,” Kloe dug through her backpack, retrieving a homemade book bound by yarn. “I wrote you a story. My teachers helped, but they said I’m a neutral storyteller.”
“Natural honey, you’re a natural storyteller.” Christie corrected her with a voice as soothing as a lullaby.
“My smart girl.” Miriam took the book, using a delicate hand to turn the pages filled with childlike scrawl and artwork. Beneath her calm demeanor as a leader and a picture-perfect grandmother, Grace could see just a slight shake of her hand as she continued to flip through the pages.
Before Grace looked too suspicious she decided to slip out of the room, leaving Miriam behind in presence, but not in mind.
Chapter Two
Grace’s phone vibrated in her pocket on her walk back to the station. A picture of Mark and her dog Brody, faces smashed together, peered up at her before she answered.
“Hey,” she said to her boyfriend of six months.
“Hey, yourself,” Mark said between a few deep breaths.
“Are you running right now?” Grace wasn’t surprised by the possibility, as Mark had the rare capability to run and talk and run and read and do nearly anything alongside physical activity. He was a fitness freak of nature.
“I sure am. You look good today. Are you wearing a new pair of black pants?”
Grace looked down at her pants, confused, just as she heard Mark’s voice sneaking up from behind her.
“You creeper!” she said as she turned around to see him approaching her with long, steady strides. His legs were so taut and thin with picturesque curves that they looked like they belonged to a very athletic woman. It didn’t help that he’d recently shaved them on a mission for faster swims in his upcoming triathlon. Not far behind Mark was a line of others, running side-by-side in step with him like groupies.
Grace pressed her body against the brick wall of the convenience store and let them pass as Mark effortlessly turned his body around, still in a backward run, leading his group of runners.
“Don’t forget the big opening tonight,” he said. “You’re still gonna be my hot date, right?”
“Yes, Rocky… I’ll be there,” Grace said. Having been thrown into an upheaval of emotions since she looked into Miriam’s eyes, she completely forgot about any other part of her life. Tonight was the grand opening of Mark’s new fitness center, a project he had worked on since before they had started dating. For years, while Mark worked beside her at the Bridgeton Police Department as a fellow police officer, he had his eye on a space that would be a fitting location for a fitness facility. He loved being a police officer, but even more than that, he loved encouraging others to eat well and treat their body like a temple, cheering for them on their way to being in the best shape of the
ir lives. And while he was a great addition to the department, everyone knew his heart was in fitness and that he was far better at encouraging someone to run that extra mile than he was at ticketing someone for speeding. He had always trained clients on the side and slowly moved toward being a trainer full-time with an ultimate goal of owning his own gym with all the equipment. His brand-new, cutting-edge fitness facility was located right in town center with high ceilings, giving him endless possibilities to construct the space to his liking. Mark literally put blood, sweat and tears into the space as he knocked down walls and raised the ceiling to add a second floor for cardio equipment that gave members the opportunity to look down below at other members lifting weights. The first floor was complete with three group exercise rooms including a yoga studio that had all the latest mats, blocks, beads and music to add to the ambience of the room. On the opposite side of the gym was a kickboxing room filled with so many bags that getting to the front of the room was like walking through an obstacle course. While the demolition and the remodeling of the space took a good chunk of time, Mark actually spent the most time deciding who to hire as the front desk staff. Having been extremely particular about who the members saw when they came in for their workouts, Mark spent countless hours reviewing résumés at all hours of the night. Grace warned him not to expect too much considering the size of the town and the limited amount of potential candidates, but Mark was determined and he managed to find the best of the best.
“I want someone to feel good and safe when they come into my gym, and that all starts with the greeting at the door,” he said one night while he was flipping through résumés with Brody at his feet. “I don’t want a dead fish greeting my members.”
Grace was inspired and even a bit envious of the passion and pride Mark had for his gym. She loved her job as a police officer, which was evident in the number of hours she spent solving cases, but it wasn’t always a ‘feel-good job,’ as she alone bore the brunt of seeing the crimes people committed. It weighed on her heavily and took a toll on her over the years, but, as her mother said, it was her gift and she had to use it to better the world.
Buried Secrets Page 2
