Transience (9 page)

He dialed Laura's number.
 
The phone rang several times, but no answer and no machine.
 
Jack hung up and reached for his coat.
 

He walked down the hall to the Captain's office.
 
Jack knew he'd gone to the well one too many times, but he had to try.
 
He knocked before he entered.
 
Captain Lafave looked up from his paperwork; Jack was about to ask for something he wasn't going to say yes to, and by the defensive way Lafave leaned back in his chair, folding his arms in front of him, he was thinking the same thing.

"No," Lafave started, shaking his head.
   

"I want to do another sweep.
 
Different area this time, down by the river.
 
Near the tracks."

Lafave blinked.
 
"Based on what?"

Shit.
 
Think fast.
"…Just a gut feeling."
 
Harrington entered, not expecting to see Jack.
 

"I'm sorry, I'm not authorizing any more goose chases.
 
As it is, they're cutting back on overtime, reducing shifts."

Harrington stood mute, not taking sides.

"What about outside volunteers, the community?" Jack said.
 

"Tough to rally the troops for these types," Harrington said. "They only come out for blondes."

Jack rolled his eyes, he knew Harrington didn't mean it and was just trying to lighten the mood.
 
He turned back to Lafave, "Captain-"

"I'm sorry, Jack.
 
Unless you have credible evidence to go on?
 
Other than just your gut?"

Harrington made a hand gesture that simulated football uprights, waiting.

"No." Jack said.
 
Harrington imitated the kick sailing wide of the uprights, the sound of a crowd groaning.
 

"Hey, do you work here?" Lafave shouted at Harrington.
 

"You wanted the report by three P.M., it's 2:59." Harrington placed a folder on Lafave's desk, tapped it with his index finger and exited the room.
 

Jack stared at Lafave until he was sure he'd conveyed his frustration, then followed Harrington out the door.

"Look, Jack, I have a lot of respect for you; you've earned it.
 
If you really feel that strongly about this, I'll sign off on it.
 
But it's the last time I'm putting my neck out for you."

Jack nodded his appreciation and closed the door quickly.
 
He didn't want to give the captain any time to reconsider.

CHAPTER 14

Rebecca sat on the lawn, her bike upside down, examining the pedals.
 
Sabotage for sure, she thought.
 
She used a wrench to try and bend the chain guard back into shape, inserting it with precision between the wheel and the metal.
 
Satisfied, she tightened the nut that holds the wheel in place, her nose wrinkled as her cheeks turned red from the effort.
 

She righted the bike onto its wheels and climbed on.
 
She pedaled only a few feet before the chain popped from its gear.
 
Off she went, face first.

She rolled onto her side and slowly got up, wiping at a grass stain on the knee of her jeans.
 
She crouched next to the bike to examine the flaw in her repair.

"You'll hurt yourself," Jack said behind her.
 
She turned to see him walking up the sidewalk.
 

"Remember me?
 
We spoke at school?"
 

"Of course.
 
I'm nine, not ninety."
 
She wiped her cheek with her hand, leaving behind a dark streak of grease and turned back to her work.
 
She banged on the chain guard a few times with the wrench.
 

"What's wrong with it?"

"I think the chain got stretched."
 

Jack knelt down. "Here, let me see."
 
He spun the wheel, poking and prodding.
 
"I had one like this when I was a kid."
 

"Is it that old?"
 

Jack laughed through his nose. "When I was a kid, your bike was everything.
 
I loved to ride."

"Me too, it helps me think.
 
Or sometimes not to think."

Jack looked up at her tiny frame standing over him, the sunlight made her hair glow.
 
Something about her sorrowful eyes made him want to place his arm around her, comfort her.
 
Rebecca was a complex little girl.
 
An old soul.
 

"I can fix this," Jack said.
 
He held out his hand. "Wrench?"
 
Rebecca gave it to him.
 
He saw the freewheel was crooked and tried to straighten it. "Looks like someone was messing around with this."

"I know, the rear derailleur is bent." Jack’s eyebrows went up.
 
He could see why Leonard held this child in such high regard.
 

He plied the metal backwards and started threading the chain. "There we go."
 
He turned the wrench, tightening the screws. "So, how's school going?" The words bounced off Rebecca like a rubber ball hitting a brick wall. "Tough being the new kid, huh?"
 

Rebecca shrugged and looked away. "They all think I'm crazy."
 

"I was the new kid once.
 
My dad was in the army so we traveled a lot.
 
I was small, prime target." Jack spoke absently, his attention on the bike. Rebecca softened her stance a little.
 
"They teased me, called me names.
 
One day I just decided I wasn't going to let it get to me anymore."

"What did you do?" Rebecca crouched down beside him.
 
He stopped twisting the wrench a moment, giving her his full attention.
 

"I just ignored them."
 

"What happened?"
 

"They pulled my underwear over my head and tossed me in a trash can."
 
Rebecca frowned, not the ending she was hoping for.
 
"But after a while they gave up.
 
The trick is, no matter how bad it makes you feel inside, always stay strong on the outside.
 
And if that doesn't work, there's always option number two.”

"Option number two?"

"Yeah; hit 'em where it hurts, then run."

Rebecca smiled. "I like that option better."

Jack continued tightening, his wrist beginning to ache from being wedged in such a tight spot, the spokes of the wheel jabbing him.
 
He threaded the chain and stood up slowly, grimacing.
 

He righted the bike, straining from the effort.
 
Rebecca noticed, a concerned look.
 

"There, try that," Jack said.
 
Rebecca climbed on.
 
She pedaled cautiously, afraid of face planting again.
 
This time she kept gliding down the sidewalk.
 
Fixed!
 
She looked back and smiled at Jack like he was the coolest person in the whole world.
 
Jack waved her on,
keep going!
 

For a moment he wished he was a kid again, he could ride along next to her and forget the world for a while.
 
He got so caught up in the idea, he hadn't noticed Laura walking across the lawn towards him.
 

"You just saved me a hundred bucks," Laura said — appreciative, but at the same time suspicious of the stranger talking with her child.
 
Jack saw the resemblance in her face, the same blue eyes.
 

"Mrs. Lowell?"
 

Laura was caught off guard.
 
"Ms. …Can I help you?"

"Sorry, Detective Jack Ridge."
 
Jack held up his grease-covered hands as an excuse not to shake hers.
 

"I'm investigating the disappearance of Angelina Rosa."

"I saw something about it on TV." Laura kept one eye on Rebecca, doing circles at the end of the street.

"You recently brought Rebecca to see a Doctor Hellerman?" Laura's friendly demeanor evaporated.
 

"What's this got to do with my daughter?" Jack could sense her guard going up.
 
He hurried right to the point.
 

"He ever discuss his concern that what was troubling Rebecca could be the repressed memory of an actual crime?"

"What?" Laura's eyes opened wide.
 

Jack held up both hands,
hang on
. "Doctor Hellerman used to deal in criminal psychiatry.
 
We worked together on several cases, he provided competency evaluations of defendants we were prosecuting.
 
He's got a lot of experience with witness testimony."

Laura put her hand on her hip, out of sorts.
 
"He never mentioned anything — what right does he have to discuss my daughter's-"

"Anytime there's information that can help prevent or solve a serious crime, disclosure is warranted."
 

"What are you talking about?"
 

"Angelina's been missing over three months now.
 
Hard working, good home, stayed out of trouble.
 
Not the kind to just run away."

"Why would Rebecca know anything about it?"
 

"I don't know."
 
Jack sounded confused himself.
 
Laura shook her head incredulously.

"She never leaves my sight, except to go to school and back."

"You're saying you don't think there's any chance-"

"She would have told me."
 

"Perhaps she was scared to?
 
Or threatened?"

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation…" Laura clasped her hands together in a prayer-like pose, covering her mouth.

Rebecca was now riding towards them, a big smile on her face.
 
Laura missed that smile.
 

"It's working great now!" Rebecca shouted.

"Becca, go inside." The smile drained from Rebecca's face.
 
She considered protesting, but sensed the seriousness of her mother's tone.
 
She got off the bike and walked it inside.
 

"I'll admit, I was skeptical myself," Jack said, stopping shy of revealing just how he came to share in Leonard's conviction.
 
The tape
.
 
He dared not reveal the level of intimacy Leonard had shared with him about Rebecca's therapy sessions.

"This is ridiculous.
 
She's been having nightmares, some trouble at school.
 
We've both been through a lot lately, what with my divorce, new house, new school.
 
It's hard on a child."

"I didn't mean to press.
 
When you get to the point of frustration that I am with this case, you find you'll listen to anything on the slim chance that-"

"He wanted to prescribe all these pills…"

"Is that why you stopped seeing the doctor?"

"There's nothing wrong with her," Laura said defensively.
 
"Nothing we can't work through ourselves."

"I see," Jack sensed his window was closing.
 
He reached into his pocket and handed her his business card.
 
"Well, if you think of anything, please-"
 

A violent cough stopped Jack mid-breath.
 
Laura took a step back.
 
"Don't worry, it's not contagious," Jack said through watery eyes in between hacks.
 

Laura examined his card.
 
"Is this why he was so interested in her?"

Jack took a slow breath, calming.
 
He turned to answer her, "How do you mean?"

"He offered to treat Rebecca for free.
 
Called several times, left messages on my machine, even offered to come here.
 
Don't you think that's strange?"

Jack considered it.
 
"Yes, I do.
 
Please, feel free to call me.
 
Anytime."

Jack turned and hobbled off, clearing his throat.
 
Laura watched him trudge slowly to his car.

"Thanks," Laura called out, "…for fixing the bike."

Jack acknowledged her and kept walking.
 
She turned to see Rebecca peeking out the kitchen window.
 
Her tiny face quickly disappeared from view.

Jack steadied himself on the hood of his car and cleared his throat again.
 
He covered his mouth and coughed hard.
 
Something in his chest felt odd, different.
 
He opened his hand, it was filled with dark blood.

That was a new symptom.

CHAPTER 15

Leonard was in the office working late.
 
The phone rang.
 
Recognizing the number, he allowed the machine to get it.
 

He let Laura vent into voicemail.
 
Again.
 
She'd called several times earlier, he'd instructed his secretary to say he was out of the office.
 
Laura was furious, and he wasn't ready to address this sensitive subject with her just yet.
 
He might never be.
 

Of course not, he was a respected physician, and he wasn't prepared to throw his practice away.
 
Not without evidence.
 
Evidence he hoped Jack might uncover.

Leonard knew that once the cat was out of the bag, there was no going back.
 
But he trusted Jack; most who knew Jack did.
 
He was the right person at the right time.
 
Unfortunately, any hope for discretion was now out the window.