Weeds in the Garden of Love (28 page)

“
Joyce Myers and Melinda Davis are lucky,” Ellen said, as they drove along the parkway bordering the lush green fairways of Parkview Golf and Country Club. “Davis is probably a batterer. If the complaints filed with the SOE by those women are accurate, he appears to exhibit the telltale signs. It usually starts with mental abuse which eventually escalates to physical violence.”

“
So you obviously believe he’s capable of murder,” Palmer said.

“
That’s one of the ways the cycle ends.”

They parked outside Lorne’s apartment building. “Let’s be careful,” Palmer said. “Davis is under a lot of pressure. His world is crashing down around him. If he picks up even the slightest hint we’re looking at him for his wife’s disappearance, he may snap.”

The building superintendent buzzed them in. They didn’t want to ring Davis’ apartment. Sometimes, the guilty bolt when a cop comes their way. The interview didn’t last long. Palmer and Landry stood outside his apartment door because Davis refused to allow them in. He opened the door but left the security chain attached. Lorne glared at them. “Got a warrant?”

“
No, we just want to talk to you, Mr. Davis,” Palmer said. “We’re trying to locate your ex-wife.”

“
I have no idea where the b— ... uh, where she is. You don’t think I’m guilty of anything, do you? Don’t forget she tried to kill me!”

“
We know that, sir,” Palmer said. “But we still have to ask if you know anything about her whereabouts.”

“
Don’t know, don’t care. I only care about my kids.” Lorne paused before he shut the door. “If you find her, let me know.” The detectives heard the dead bolt.

Palmer didn’t move. “Thank you, sir. We’ll be in touch.” He looked at Ellen and raised his eyebrows. “I told you he was a nice guy.”

Waiting in the alcove for the elevator, the detectives heard the sound of an apartment door closing. They glanced down the hallway but couldn’t see anyone. Palmer shrugged his shoulders. “Probably nosy neighbors. What do you think about Mr. Davis, Ell?”

“
He’s a jerk, but he’s also a smart jerk. I have the feeling he knows a lot more than he’s letting on.”

“
Absolutely. Do you think he killed her?” Palmer asked.

“
If she’s dead, I like him for it.”

Palmer agreed. “And we’re gonna bust him for it.”

Unbeknownst to them, paranoia had motivated Lorne Davis to slip out of his apartment. He hid around the corner next to the elevators. He heard every word.

* * *

Malarkey’s was busy on Saturday afternoon. The big game was on television, and the college football crowd was in. From the doorway, Craig spotted Garth waving from a booth. A huge cheer erupted as Craig walked over. Craig couldn’t resist. The timing was perfect. “Happens everyplace I go lately. I suppose I’ll just have to get used to it.”

“
Hey, Craiger. Good to see your ego is still intact.” Craig laughed and sat down. A large draft was waiting for him on the table.

“
Thanks, buddy,” Craig said. Garth’s smile seemed wider than usual. “You’re grinning like a Cheshire cat. What’s up?”

“
Well, Loretta is expecting another baby and—”

“
That damn neighbor,” Craig said. “Listen, if you want a hand to—”

“
Very funny. Actually, it’s gonna be great to be a dad again.”

Craig raised his glass in a salute. “You bet, buddy! Congratulations! That’s wonderful.”

Switching topics, Garth asked Craig if he’d heard the latest about Lorne Davis: his D.U.I., how the SOE were using his own rotten tactics against him and how his ex-wife disappeared after she tried to kill him.

“
Didn’t they have a couple of kids?” Craig asked.

“
Gone too. It’s spooky. The house is deserted and up for sale.”

Craig shook his head. “Can’t blame her. Davis is a psycho. He was probably planning to kill them. You see that kind of stuff on the news. You know, guys going back and murdering their ex-wives and kids.”

Garth agreed. “Cops think he might have already done it. And hey, listen to this. I heard someone has been following Charles Talbot’s wife. It’s really freaking her out.”

“
Where do you hear all this stuff? What are you now, the official nosey-parker of Botsford Downs?”

Garth tilted his head towards to the bar. “Danny told me. You know bartenders—they hear everything. Oh  and here’s something else Danny told me. He thinks Eric Millard is coming unglued.”

Craig grinned. “I probably hit him too hard. Sometimes, I don’t know my own strength.”

Garth had a serious look on his face. “You gotta be careful, my friend. He could go nutso jealous and come after you and Vikki.”

“
Don’t worry. I’m ready.” As the words came out of his mouth, Craig realized he wasn’t ready. Maybe he had underestimated Millard. He had to find out exactly what kind of threat he posed. “Hang on.” Craig slid out of the booth. “I’ll be right back.”

Garth watched Craig walk over to Danny. Their conversation looked intense. Danny was leaning over the bar so he could speak quietly, and Craig was shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Finally, they shook hands and Craig walked back to the booth.

“
Sounds like you’re right, Garth.” Craig glanced back at the bar. “Danny says Millard is bonkers. Says he was flashing a gun in here a few nights ago. He booted him out and told him to never come back. Then, Danny paid a visit to the cops.”

“
Told ya. You gotta be careful.”

“
Careful?” Craig said. “ Hell, I’m way past careful. I’m going out tomorrow to buy a gun. I’m not taking any chances with a mental midget like Millard. In his tiny pea brain, he thinks he has a motive. I’m going to make sure he doesn’t get the opportunity.”

Garth knew Craig meant every word. He wondered if he and Loretta were in any danger. After all, he was here the night Craig cold-cocked Millard. Garth decided he had nothing to fear. Millard didn’t even know who he was. He was worried about Craig though.

“
You’re a million miles away, Garth. You okay?”

“
Sorry. I was just thinkin’. That Millard is one scary dude. You never know what he could … well, let’s just say—I’ve got a real bad feeling about this.”

Craig had a bad feeling too. That’s normal when fear forces you to buy a gun.

* * *

That Thursday seemed like any other day, but a very special event was planned for the afternoon. Paul and Lauren Beaumont were hosting the official opening of the new Victoria Crossing sales office. The guest list included the who’s who of city government, business and real estate.

The office staff planned the event in an extremely professional manner. Nothing was left to chance. The catering, the decorations and the press kits were flawless. Even the local media was impressed. Chrissie figured they were only covering this because of the free booze.

Paul spoke about his development plan for Victoria Crossing: the new park and green space, the recreation center and the Olympic sized swimming pool. After Paul and Lauren cut the ribbon to officially open the new sales center, the mingling began. Chrissie was so caught up in the event, she lost all track of time and the amount of liquor she had consumed. Charlotte, one of the sales reps, signaled Chrissie she was wanted on the phone.

“
Where are you, Mom?” Robbie asked. “Heather and I have been waiting here forever.”

Rain began to fall from low gray clouds as Chrissie drove across town to the Hillside Recreation Center. She felt horribly guilty about forgetting to pick up her kids. She had never done that before. She could easily justify it, however. She was working long hours. She was on overload, running Towercrest Realty coupled with the added pressure of Victoria Crossing. Paul Beaumont was a tough taskmaster. He expected his project to be her first priority. In addition, she was busy with prospective buyers and contractors. She was also training a new sales staff.

As Chrissie turned into the parking lot, she spotted Robbie and Heather standing inside the front doors of the Recreation Center. She was relieved they were okay.
Now that Vic Crossing is open, I’ll have more time to spend with them. But
I shouldn’t worry so much. My kids are pretty independent.
Besides, it’s not my fault. Their father could have offered to help out. But he’s all wrapped up with his new squeeze.

Robbie pushed Heather out of the way and climbed into the front seat. He claimed dibs on riding up front because he was older. Chrissie promised Heather next time would be her turn.

Chrissie drove home along County Road 31. She often chose this alternate route to avoid rush hour traffic on the main thoroughfares to Botsford Downs. The road was a two-lane blacktop with soft shoulders. It needed resurfacing and no longer drained properly. Water collected in huge puddles in many spots. This county road had no streetlights; so on a rainy night like this, visibility was limited.

As she drove, Chrissie apologized to Robbie and Heather for being late. She explained she had to speak at the opening of the new office. Afterwards, the media interviewed her, and then the president of the real estate association asked for a quick meeting with her.

Robbie felt the car weaving. “You okay, Mom?”

Chrissie reached over to brush Robbie’s hair off his forehead. “I’m fine. I’m just tired and—”

“
Mom!” Robbie screamed. It was too late.

Their car had crossed the centerline into the oncoming traffic. Her judgment and reflexes impaired by alcohol, Chrissie was slow to react. She had to swerve hard to avoid a head-on collision with a delivery van. Sliding on the wet pavement, the left rear of her vehicle slammed into the front of the oncoming van. As her car careened down the road, she cranked the steering wheel over in an attempt to straighten out but overcorrected. The car leaned heavily, and both right wheels dug into the gravel shoulder. The forward momentum propelled the car into the air. Landing in the ditch, the car rolled violently until it finally came to rest on its roof—in a cornfield.

Several drivers locked their brakes and managed to stop safely only to be rear-ended by others. Some veered off into the ditch to avoid a collision. Then—everything was eerily quiet.

Except for the hissing of a leaking radiator.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Scenes

Craig was still at work that Thursday when Mercy Hospital called. He was listed as Chrissie’s next of kin. She had no one else. They told him his wife and children had been in an accident. They could supply no further details.

Craig raced to the hospital. His heart was in his mouth as he sped through rain soaked streets. He arrived at the emergency room around seven p.m. He was directed to the nurse’s station in the intensive care unit. He was frantic. “I’m Craig Andrews. You called me about an accident. My kids—my kids were in a car accident.”

A doctor walked around to the front of the counter. “I’m Dr. Cody. I’m a surgical resident here. Actually, Dr. Gorham, our chief trauma surgeon, is—”

“
How are my kids? How are Robbie and Heather?”

“
I’m trying to tell you,” Dr. Cody said. “Heather is okay, but your wife Christine is in serious condition. She has head trauma and a suspected concussion.”

“
Ex-wife. What about my son Robbie?”

“
Your son is in surgery. He didn’t fair as well as the other two. He’s in critical condition. I don’t have a prognosis right now.”

“
What do you mean? You have no idea if he’s going to make it? What kind of a place— “ Craig stopped. He was angry, but his anger was directed at the wrong person. He should be yelling at Chrissie. “Sorry, Doc.”

“
We’re doing everything we can, Mr. Andrews. We’ll let you know as soon as we know anything.”

“
Thanks. Can I see Heather?”

“
She’s still in recovery. She has internal injuries and a broken right femur. You’ll have to wait awhile.” A nurse signaled the doctor. “Oh, excuse me, Mr. Andrews.”

Craig felt sick. Whenever they said: “we’re doing everything we can”, it wasn’t good. If Robbie was in surgery, it was bad. He didn’t know what to do. Craig sat helplessly in the waiting room. He stared blankly at a Red Cross blood donor poster. He was numb. He bowed his head and thanked God Heather was okay. He begged Him for his son’s life.

A nurse walked over and told Craig that Heather was out of recovery. She took him down the hallway to Heather’s room. She warned him his daughter was still feeling the effects of the anesthesia.

The rain was beating against the windows in Heather’s room. Craig’s heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was lying unconscious in that big hospital bed. She looked so small and vulnerable. He took her little hand in his. Her leg was in a cast and elevated by ropes and pulleys. She was hooked up to an I.V. drip and a heart monitor.

The reality hit Craig like a brick. This wasn’t some stranger’s little girl, some kid he didn’t know. This was Heather, his Heather. Those blips on the screen were her heartbeats, Heather’s heartbeats—his little angel. When she came into the world, he held her in his arms in the first minutes of her life. And now, he had come so close to losing her. Craig shuddered at the thought. He lowered his head to the edge of the bed and wept. He couldn’t help it. This trauma coupled with all the heartache of the past few years fueled those tears. He couldn’t stop crying. He didn’t want Heather to wake up and see him like that. He walked out into the hallway.