The Bridge (Para-Earth Series) (13 page)

             
Roy insisted they take his patrol car and headed for the door followed by Alex.  Cassandra stood up to go with them, but Veronica stepped in front of her saying, “I’d like to talk to you.”

             
Before she could respond, Cassie saw the door close leaving the two of them alone.  Obviously, she was not needed and was stuck with her now ‘former’ rival.  Folding her arms she said in a brisk tone, “I didn’t make any passes at your boyfriend while we were alone.  And I’m not going to ever again.  Okay?”

             
“Good,” the older woman nodded and leaned up against her desk.  “But, what I really wanted to ask was if you’re all right?”

             
That took Cassie off guard.  “What?”

             
“I heard you through the door,” Veronica continued, “and I made sure no one walked in on you until you were finished.  Once you stopped I headed back to the table.”

             
For a moment Cassie said nothing.  Now she was really upset about earlier, but from what her psychic powers were picking up Veronica was genuinely concerned for her.  However, her wounded pride wasn’t about to be assuaged so easily.  “What do you care?” she asked finally.

             
“Alex considers you one of his best friends,” the red-head told her honestly. “He’d hate to see you do anything stupid, and so would I.”

             
Now Cassie was even more puzzled, “Why?”

             
“As you’ve pointed out more than once, I’ve been a cop almost as long as you’ve been alive,” Ronnie began and started walking back and forth.  “And I’ve seen a lot of things in that time, including people who were having trouble accepting who they really were and tried to keep it a secret.  And they did that because they were afraid others might not approve and may even try to hurt them.”

             
Damn the woman!  She was really sincere, Cassie could feel it.

             
Just then the door to the office opened and a young man popped his head in saying, “Sarge?  We got a disturbance over on Essex, family argument.”

             
“Again?” Ronnie sighed, “Can’t Danson and Brooks handle it?”

             
“They’re investigating a break in on the other side of town,” the young man replied.  “And you know how to talk to the wife over at Essex.  She listens to you.”

             
Before Veronica could respond, Cassie took advantage of the moment to announce she needed to leave and quickly gathered her stuff up.  Much to her relief, Ronnie did not try to stop her. 

             
As soon as she was out of the station Cassie started looking for her driver then remembered she’d given him the afternoon off.  And she wasn’t about to drag him away from whatever he was doing.  Looking around she saw a bus stop and headed over to it.  Glancing over the posted schedule, she saw it would take her directly into town. 

             
She barely sat down when the bus came into sight and a few moments later she climbed aboard.  After paying her fare, she looked for a place to sit and froze.  The waitress from the restaurant was on board a few rows away. 

             
Immediately she took the seat right behind the driver and stared straight forward.  She spent the entire ride telling herself over and over, ‘Ronnie’s wrong, I’m not like that.  I’m not!’ 

.

Cloudfoot

             
“Some place ain’t it?” Chief Peterson remarked looking over the grounds of the estate.

             
Alex nodded, “Have you ever been inside?”

             
“Only when old Graham suffered his heart attack sixteen years ago,” Roy sighed.  “We had to search the place. We were looking for a teenage girl who lived and worked here.  She was supposedly here that night.”

             
“Did you ever find her?” asked Alex, suspecting what the answer would be.

             
“No, she and most of her stuff were gone,” replied the older man with a sigh. “Ronnie was pretty broken up by it.”

             
“Really?  Any idea why?”

             
Roy nodded, “Rachel was one of the first at-risk teens Ronnie worked with.  See the girl came from a broken home.  You know domestic violence, physical abuse and… other things.  Ronnie pulled her out of there and got her the job here.  She really had hopes for that girl.”

             
Alex already knew his lady had worked with the town’s teen population, but he’d had no idea just how long she’d been doing it.  “Any idea of what happened to her?” he asked.

             
“No,” said Roy shook his head, “By the time we got here, along with the paramedics, Graham was already in a coma.  And he never came out of it.  We searched the entire place but couldn’t find any sign of the girl aside from the fact that she must’ve left in a hurry.  She didn’t bother to grab her coat, and it was raining pretty hard that night, so there were no footprints to track and none of the cars were missing from the garage.  In the end we had to assume she must’ve panicked when Graham collapsed and took off.  Probably got picked up by somebody on the road who took her God knows where.”

             
“I see,” Alex nodded, “So there’s a chance she could still be alive somewhere?”

             
“Maybe,” Roy agreed without much enthusiasm, “I know that’s what your other half is always hoping for.  In the end, she went back to working with other troubled kids and managed to turn some of their lives around.  Her partner Ryan was one of them.”

             
Spotting an opening to change the mood Alex remarked, “So she’s turned some of them into Constables has she?”

             
“We prefer the term Police Officers, here in the states.”

             
“You mean here in the New ENGLAND states?” Alex asked innocently.

             
Peterson groaned, “Any more of that crap and I’m calling Immigration on you.”

             
Alex gave him a hurt look, “What would you tell the Missus?  She loves her Ballroom classes.”

             
“I’d tell her to take up bowling.  It’s just as noisy as you, but at least the pins don’t talk back,” Roy growled.  “Now where did you notice that odor?”

             
Alex showed him the spot, “We were standing right here, and there was a breeze coming from that direction,” he pointed toward the slope leading down to the bridge. 

             
It was an ancient looking structure, made of stone and mortar.  According to the background information the lawyers had provided him, it had stood there for three centuries exposed to the elements.   Yet it looked almost new.  No hint of ivy or moss could be found anywhere along its great length.

             
As they stood there, Alex noted the railing was elaborately carved with thin openings to permit wind to pass through.   The span of the bridge was just over 300 feet.  It was wide enough to allow two cars to pass, though it probably was meant to accommodate two carriages back when it was built.  Three great archways supported the entire structure from below, raising it some twenty feet above the wide stream, to compensate for rising waters when the snowpack melted in the Spring he suspected. 

             
“So when are you going to make an honest woman of my Second-in-Command?” asked Roy as they headed towards it.

             
“I’ve tried,” Alex complained, putting his hands in his pockets and kicking at the ground like a little kid. “She keeps turning me down.  She almost stopped seeing me because I kept asking.  Luckily I managed to get her to agree to a compromise. I’m allowed to ask once a month and an extra one on my birthday and New Year’s.”

             
“You two sound like Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane,” remarked his friend. “What about Christmas?”

             
“If I ask on Christmas, I don’t get my special Yuletide treat,” Alex replied with heavenly look on his face.

             
“Do I want to know?” asked Roy.

             
“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

             
“Is there one of those around here?” Peterson asked, looking around. “I’ve never seen one before.”

             
“Not even in your own mirror?”

             
“Knock that shit off,” Peterson snarled, “Every time you talk like that in front of the wife, she starts getting ideas.” 

             
Alex smiled but kept silent.  He knew that in spite of his friend’s gruffness, the man was laughing down inside.

             
The two of them had been going back and forth like this since they’d met back in New York.  They’d become good friends rather quickly and had spent a fair amount of time together.  It had been from Roy that he’d learned that his late grandmother had been one of the town’s more respected and cherished citizens. 

             
Constance Hill had been a strong voice in favor of good relations between the public and law enforcement.  And every year she would throw open the doors of her private Ballroom to hold a “Policeman’s Ball”.  He remembered attending one of them back when he was fourteen.  Veronica had not been able to attend that one, from what he was told.  But it had been after one of these gala affairs that she had started taking dance lessons from his grandmother.

             
But alas, time had slowed his grandmother down and the lessons and the parties came to an end about ten years ago.  However, the police had never forgotten her kindness.  A patrol car always stopped in to check on her to make sure she was all right and if she needed anything. 

             
And now, he was planning to restart the tradition.  The ballroom had been seriously neglected during the last few years of his grandmother’s life and it had taken time for him to get it back in shape.  But now all was ready, and the entire town was eagerly looking forward to the event which was to take place in two months.

             
He and Roy had just reached the stream when they spotted a figure carrying flowers walking onto the bridge from the other side.  It was a tall man with extremely long iron-gray hair, high-cheekbones and reddish skin tone. 

             
‘Native American?’ wondered Alex, as they watched the stranger reach the middle of the bridge.  Once there the man leaned over the railing and began dropping the flowers, one by one, into the water below. 

             
Just then Roy called out, “Afternoon Jason.”

             
The man looked up in surprise and greeted them warmly.  “Chief Peterson.  Good to see you.  Is this a social call or police business?”

             
“The second one I’m afraid,” Roy replied walking over to join him on the bridge.  Automatically Alex fell into step behind him.  There was something different about the man that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

             
“I’m looking into the deaths of a couple of teenagers,” his companion was saying.

             
“The ones who died in the accident?” nodded the gray-haired man sadly.  “I was very sorry to hear about it.  They seemed so happy when I saw them that night…”

             
“You saw them?” interrupted Roy in surprise.

             
“They were here on the bridge, looking into the waters seeking answers,” Jason nodded, “Many young people come here at night for privacy you see.  And since Mr. Graham always permitted this, I saw no reason to stop it after the heart attack put him in the hospital.”

             
“Why didn’t you come and tell us about seeing them?” Roy demanded, pulling out a notepad and pencil.  “I put a notice in the newspaper that we were looking for witnesses!”

             
“I only returned from visiting my son in California this morning.  I didn’t know about the accident or the notice until I read the paper a little while ago,” Jason explained.

             
“I see,” Roy nodded.  “So why the flowers, if you don’t mind me asking?”

             
“I brought them to drop into the water as a memorial for them,” the older man replied.  “They seemed so happy together when I left them here that night.”

             
“Are you sure they were standing right here?” asked Roy.

             
“Of course,” Jason nodded and looked down.

             
Alex followed his gaze and saw they were standing near the large slab that marked the center of the bridge.  It was elaborately decorated with strange signs and symbols that struck a chord inside him.

             
“Ah I see,” said Roy making a note, “Do you remember what time that was?”

             
“Around 9:00 o’clock.  We spoke until 9:30 when my ride came to take me to the airport.  I got the impression that they intended to stick around a little longer.” 

             
“I see,” Roy nodded and then asked, “Has anyone told you about Mr. Graham?”

             
“Yes, the lawyers contacted me while I was in California, which is why I cut my visit short and came back so soon.  In fact I just got home about an hour ago,” Jason sighed.  “They told me the estate was going to be put up for sale.  I’ve tended these grounds since I was a young boy, with my father.  I would like to stay and continue my work here.”  Here he paused and turned to Alex, “Do you think that would be possible, Mr. Hill?”

             
Alex felt his eyebrows migrate to his hairline.  Roy had not introduced him.  So how did this man know his name and that he was the one handling the sale?  “I’m sorry, have we met before?”

             
“No, but your grandmother was a close friend.  She spoke of you and your work quite often and loved to show photos of you,” Jason smiled. “So when the lawyers gave me your name, I knew exactly who you were.”

             
“Ah,” Alex nodded pleased to have the mystery solved.  Then holding out a hand he added, “It’s a pleasure to meet you mister…?

             
“Cloudfoot, Jason Cloudfoot,” the fellow smiled and warmly took him by the wrist.  Alex quickly returned the gesture. “Your grandmother was a wonderful woman and a good friend.  She’d come and have tea with me and then we’d walk among the flower gardens.  Perhaps you would like to take some to her and your grandfather before you leave.  I know which ones were her favorites.”

             
“Thank you, I would,” Alex replied warmly.  He was pleased to see that in spite of his many years of working the grounds, the man did not have the bent spine that was typical of many a gardener.  Nor did he... 

             
Roy suddenly cleared his throat in a very meaningful way. 

             
Taking the hint, Alex excused himself and wandered over to the other side of the bridge to be out of the way.  His eyes travelled from one side of the stream the other.  The scene was picturesque and tranquil. So why was he feeling that same kind of
wrongness
that accompanied the chill he’d encountered at the Morgue? 

             
Looking down at the water below, he saw the flowers Jason had dropped over the side.  They were roses and lilies. ‘A beautiful gesture,’ he thought and turned to look at his grandmother’s friend.  The man wore an air of peace and calm, but something wasn’t right.  ‘Why am I picking up
on a sense of worry, beneath that relaxed demeanor?’ he wondered when a loud splash caught his attention.  Peering back over the side of the bridge he immediately noticed there were ripples in the water and that some of the flowers were gone. 

             
Roy joined him.  “Was that a fish making that racket?  I didn’t know there were any around here.”

             
“They’re fond of the insects that settle on the flowers I drop into the water,” Jason told them.