Authors: Shelley Bates
“Mom, you just don’t get it. What if I don’t want to be a leader? What if I just want to be a kid and fall out of a stupid
canoe if I feel like it? At least it would be my own decision.”
How could a fourteen-year-old make the kinds of decisions that would set her on the right track for the future? Anna didn’t
have the tools yet. That’s what parents were for, wasn’t it? To guide their children in the way they should go, as the Bible
said.
Frankly, it hurt that Anna could lie here and coldheartedly reject the things that Laurie had been trying to teach her. Leadership
and the ability to get along with others were fine qualities. Necessary qualities. As she’d proven herself.
“Mom? Do you hear what I’m saying?”
“I hear you,” she said around the hurt. “We should talk about this some more.”
“That always means you still want me to agree with you.”
“For heaven’s sake, Anna, what’s wrong with agreeing with me?” she exploded, then lowered her voice. “You’re saying that learning
to be a leader and having everyone like you are bad things.”
“I’m not saying that, Mom,” Anna said with exaggerated patience. “I’m saying that you need to let me decide what I want to
do and how I want to handle things. I’m fourteen.”
And that was it, wasn’t it? Fourteen. No longer a child, and adulthood a long way off.
“You can trust me,” Anna persisted.
“Of course I can,” Laurie said automatically. And she did. But sometimes you needed more than trust to hang on to.
She kissed Anna good night and heard the scratch and swoop of the pen begin again as she closed the door behind her.
Then she went into her bedroom and dropped to her knees next to the bed.
Help me with Anna, Lord. We talked, but I still don’t know what’s bothering her. It can’t be just math. Please give Anna an
open heart and give me the ability to listen. Is she right, Lord? Do I talk and push too much? You’ve helped me to be a good
mother, Lord, and you’ve given me good kids. Help me now that Anna’s getting more independent. Give me wisdom.
And trust, Lord. Give me trust.
To group: Budz
From: JohnnysGrrl
Here comes 5-0. Be EZ. Stay cool.
SUSQUANNY COUNTY SHERIFF’S OFFICE
CASE NUMBER: 07-201
REPORTING OFFICER: N. Tremore, badge #78512
DATE: November 12, 2007
TIME: 21:46
SUMMARY: Investigating officers Tremore and Schwartz followed up on information given by Harim Saur, employee at the Stop-N-Go
convenience store located at the west end of the Susquanny River Bridge. Saur reports that around 10:30 p.m. on Wednesday,
November 7, he saw a “large gang of kids” hanging around the bridge. Because of the time of night and the distance from the
store, he could not see clearly, but he had the impression that “something was going on.”
To rule out or include this activity in the death of Miranda Peizer, officers canvassed the students at Lincoln High School.
Most deny being out on the night of November 7 and can be vouched for by their parents. Some were working at part-time jobs;
these were verified. The individuals who cannot verify their movements or who have given an alibi that was subsequently contradicted
by verbal statements are as follows:
Kate Parsons
Michelle Gibson
Anna Hale
Kelci Platt
Morgan Williams
Kyle Edgar
Brendan O’Day
Rose Silverstein
Jaimi Silverstein
Keisha Jones
ACTION:The above subjects will be interviewed again. Victim’s mother, Tanya Peizer, should also be interviewed but is unavailable
at this time due to her state of mind in bereavement. Report to follow.
N
ick Tremore stood
at the front door of the apartment and checked his notebook. Number 202, the home of the victim’s mother.
This wasn’t going to be easy.
He knocked, and when no one answered after a few seconds, knocked again. Through his boots, he felt a small vibration, as
though something heavy had fallen somewhere at the back of the unit, and his instincts kicked in. He tried the door and to
his surprise, the knob turned under his hand.
“Mrs. Peizer?” he called. “It’s Deputy Tremore from the sheriff’s office. I left a couple of messages on your phone. Can I
come in?”
A sound that might have been a reply came from a bedroom. He stepped in and closed the door behind him.
“Mrs. Peizer? Are you okay?”
A small woman with hair halfway between blonde and red appeared in the hallway, holding what looked to be a rope of some kind
in her hands.
“They had runs in them,” she said, and looked down at what he now realized were a pair of stockings. “I sent her to school
with runs in her hose.”
Aw, man.
Nick had plenty of experience with women—the kind he was related to and the kind he chose for himself—but he’d never gone
one-on-one with a grieving mother before.
“Maybe she put holes in them on purpose,” he offered. “Like the kids do with their jeans.”
The tears that had been swimming in her eyes overflowed and streaked her cheeks. “Not Randi.” She made a gulping sound. “They
were a statement for her. These were her favorites.”
“Uh, maybe I should come back another time.” He glanced around the tiny apartment. “Isn’t there supposed to be someone with
you?” Hadn’t Laurie said that she and her church ladies were watching out for her?
Tanya twisted the black hose between her fingers, and Nick had a sudden flash of what exactly a person in despair could do
with something like that. He resisted the urge to pull them out of her hands and put them somewhere safe.
“Cammie left a while ago.” Thin shoulders drooped. “She told me not to think about cleaning up Randi’s room yet, but I had
to.” She looked up at him as though he were about to haul her in for it.
Inside him, something twisted, hard.
“Mrs. Peizer, please, sit down.”
She let him lead her over to the couch, where she sat and wrung the hose between her hands, over and over. “Not Mrs.,” she
finally said. “I never married Randi’s dad.” A quick glance sideways at him. “That was before I became a Christian.”
He didn’t want to hear about ex-husbands or Christians. He was surrounded by them—Christians, not ex-husbands. His mother
and aunts never lost an opportunity to parade yet another prospective wife in front of him, and she was invariably a member
of some church or another. His brothers had done the right thing and married fine, upstanding girls, producing fine, upstanding
families. He supposed he was the black sheep, although going into law enforcement like his uncle probably wasn’t the best
rebellion he could have come up with.
And now here was another one. How was her faith going to get her through this?
“Ms. Peizer—”
“My name is Tanya.”
At least the tears had stopped trickling down her cheeks.
“I’d like to ask you some questions about Randi,” he said gently, grateful for small mercies. “If you feel up to it.”
“I took those pills Patty gave me, but they just made me sick. Reality is hard to face right now, but it’s better than turning
into a zombie.” She touched her scalp. “I hurt my head.”
Too bad he couldn’t arrest this Patty person for loaning out her pharmaceuticals. “Let me look.”
She leaned away from his attempt to part her hair. “I’m okay. It was yesterday. Janice looked at it.”
To cover the unwanted gesture, which had been as automatic as picking up Tim after a tumble from his bike, Nick pulled out
his notebook.
“We’re interested in Randi’s movements during the last week of—last week,” he amended. “But especially Wednesday.”
“Why? Nothing is going to change.” Her eyes were bleak. “God gave her to me and he must not have thought I was doing a very
good job, because he took her back.”
No way was he going to get into that kind of theological quagmire. “We’re not sure it was an accident,” he said. “Are you
sure you’re up for this?”
With the sleeve of her shirt, she wiped her face. “I don’t have much choice, do I?”
“Yes, you do. You can tell me to go away. But the sooner we act, the sooner we can find out the truth.”
“I wish you
would
go away.”
He closed the notebook and shifted his weight to his feet. He should send Gil to do this. Gil had a better bedside manner.
“I wish it would all go away,” Tanya went on as if he hadn’t moved, “but it won’t, so I have to get on with it. Please tell
me why you don’t think it was an accident.”
He sank back onto the couch, and a spring gouged him in the hip. He moved over a little.
“The clerk at the convenience store said there were a bunch of kids on the bridge, and it looked like something was going
on. Then Randi turned up on the sandbar the next day. The one event may have nothing to do with the other, but in case they
do, I need to have a picture of her movements leading up to Wednesday night. Maybe something will tell me what could have
happened.”
Tanya shrugged. “She did what she always does. She went to school. She went to the mall. She hung out with her friends.”
According to Anna Hale, nobody much liked her. Who were these friends? “Do you know their names?”
“Kate’s one of them. And Kelci—with an
i
.” She glanced at his notebook, as if to check he had the spelling right. “And let’s not forget the man of the hour, Brendan
O’Day. I wanted to meet him.”
“Why?”
Another sideways glance, wryly. “Not the parent of a teenage girl, huh?”
“Not a parent. Not married.” Not even close, and happy to keep it that way, thanks.
“I think he was her boyfriend. I wanted to do the mom thing, you know? Meet him, get to know him. But it never seemed to happen.
She always had somewhere else to be, and I always had to work.”
Brendan O’Day was the captain of the junior varsity basketball team and was pegged for some Ivy League school in the future,
according to his proud father, who hung out with one of Nick’s brothers. Nick had his doubts that he was going out with Randi
Peizer, who was new in town, lived in subsidized housing, and wasn’t well-liked. But, he supposed, stranger things had happened.
“Why don’t you walk me through the events of Wednesday?” he suggested. “Start with when the two of you woke up.”
“We had scrambled eggs for breakfast, and I dropped her off at school on my way to work.”
“Where do you work?”
“Depends on the day. On Wednesday I have early shift at the university. I drive the shuttle bus around the campus. Then from
two till six I work swing at Susquanny Home Supply. I’m a cashier.”
Which didn’t leave a whole lot of time for meeting her daughter’s friends.
“What did Randi do that day?”
“She gets out of school at three. I called her at four and she was at the mall with Kate and the other girls.”
She might have been at the mall, but Kate had said in their interview the other night that she had dance class until five
and had been there with all the other ballerinas. Randi, it appeared, was as good at spinning yarns as her mother was at believing
them.
Or maybe this slender, hunched-over woman just needed to believe in something good in her life. The picture of Randi at the
mall, having fun with other girls her age, must have been too appealing to resist.
“What about when you got home? Was she there?”
Tanya shook her head. “She called and said she was staying with one of the girls to eat supper and study, and she’d be home
around eight.”
“And was she?”
“I don’t know. I grabbed the extra hours—a mistake, because I wound up not getting home until ten. The store closes at nine,
and then we cash out.”
“And she wasn’t here.” She was on the bridge, doing—what?
“No.”
“What did you do?”
“I called her cell and left a message.”
“She didn’t answer?”
“I thought she was inside somewhere. Sometimes it doesn’t work in certain buildings. So I—” She stopped. “I—” Her breathing
shortened, became a series of gasps. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. Take your time.”
Her breath hitched. “I meant to call over to Kate’s—to see if she was there—but I was so tired—I just shut my eyes for a second
and—and—”
Aw, no.
Nick rubbed a cold hand over his face and wished he’d left while he’d had the chance.
“And the next thing I knew, it was morning and a man who said he was the coroner was on the doorstep—and he said—he—” The
last word ended on a wail and Nick found himself dropping his notebook beside him on the couch and folding Tanya Peizer into
a hug while she cried.
What kind of God lets a girl die while her exhausted mother sleeps?
he asked silently as she shook against his chest.
Of course there was no answer to that question.
There were answers to the mystery of what had happened to Randi Peizer before the river carried her away, though. And he was
going to find them.
To Group: GBFWomensBible
From: [email protected]
Hey girls,
Thanks to Maggie and Cammie, we’ve helped Tanya get through the first couple of days. We need to stick with her through the
funeral and probably afterward. Can you all zip me a note and let me know what evenings you’ll be able to park the kids with
your DH in order to go over to her place for a couple of hours? I want to draw up a roster so no one person has to spend too
much time away from her own family. Also, let me know if you can make dishes for her freezer or throw a few extra groceries
in your cart next time you’re at the market. I know we’re all busy, but our sister needs us.
Thanks, as always!
Laurie
S
unday morning, Laurie
walked into church with to-do lists and schedules and menu plans on a neat list in her tote bag, with enough copies for everyone
in the Bible study group. Cammie, she saw right away, had picked up Tanya and made sure she got to the service. Laurie knew
for a fact that staying in that apartment, alone and grieving, was not going to start her on the road to recovery. Simply
being in the place where others could help her would be a balm to her soul and the best thing she could do for herself.