Chapter 9: Chapter 9

Detective Jefferson, the lead investigator on Keila’s case, dashes out of the room filled with high-ranking police officials. He nearly rams into Detective Russo, who deftly steps aside to avoid a collision.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you.”

“No need to apologize. I was waiting for you.”

“Oh. That said,” Jefferson breaks into a brisk walk, “with me.”

Russo follows at his side.

“What do you want? I knew I smelled something rotten in the air. Something stained with desperation.”

“Are you sure it isn’t just the stench of your own failure?”

Jefferson’s face twists into a horrid scowl, skewering him with a glower.

“How’s the case going?”

He throws a glance over his shoulder. The Chief bursts out of the room, lashing out orders to anyone in range.

“Besides how I assume it’s going.”

Jefferson massages his forehead, harried, fingertips kneading into his temple.

“Your assumption is likely on par. This tragedy is unsettling the town and disrupting tourism. Another disappearance of a kid within a decade, replicating what happened to Erin. It’s disconcerting.”

His brows leap. “Right, you don’t know about that. Before your time.”

“By a year.” Russo feels the need to add, “I was transferred here twelve months after they declared her a missing person. I even requested to take her case, but I was denied.”

Jefferson scoffs, pushing the door to his office wide open. “Everyone in this district knows why.”

He hurries inside to park himself behind his cluttered desk. “You don’t function right when kids are involved. You’re lucky the Ivory Tower didn’t strip you of your badge after what you did.”

Anger latches onto Russo, but he resists it.

“Has there been any progress?”

Jefferson frees an explosive sigh, his shaggy mane untamed.

“We had the family provide forensic samples that will be turned over to the NMPVS. Forensic examiners will search and compare long-term missing persons against unidentified human remains.”

The insult is both blatant and obvious, all to imply his ineptitude.

“I’ve been on the job for twenty years. You think I don’t know what protocol requires? How about next time, you just say you have nothing. At the rate you’re going, Erin will never be found.”

Russo leaves the room with a cold, cavalier air, returning to his own office.

When arrives, he slows his march, noticing the door is ajar. He creeps forward, nudging it open and peering inside to see a familiar form poking around his desk and browsing through his short collection of framed pictures.

The detective whips around. His eyes dart to Russo’s hand.

Russo glances at his hand stilled on his service weapon.

“Why are you snooping?”

“Sort of in the job description.” Detective Mason Taylor raises his hands in mock surrender. “You gonna shoot me?”

“I should.”

Russo drops his hand.

Mason frowns, but maintains his smile. “You’re the one that told me to gather further intel on the Erin Lockwood case. Even though it is out of your jurisdiction.”

“Everyone will forget all about that once I find the kid.”

Mason loops his thumb around his suspenders, shaking his head at him. “All you city cops are all the same. Arrogant.”

Russo makes his way to his desk. “At least we solve our cases.”

Mason stamps his hand on his heart, feigning hurt. “~Ouch~.”

Russo settles down on the leather chair, rolling forward to see the case file with threadbare information pertaining to the people of interest.

Light-weight profiles with basic information about them that he could’ve Googled himself, nothing of use inside.

He flips through the file with growing frustration. “Is this it?”

“Insufficient clearance level, detective.” Mason shrugs exaggeratedly. “Though I believe even if you had everything, it still would not be enough.”

“Psych evaluations?”

“Do you have a warrant to compel them from the psychiatrist?”

Russo grunts, dropping back into his seat, elbows on the arms, tenting his fingers in thought.

“~Keila ~is missing,” Mason says with irksome emphasis. “Why are you looking into Erin? That case was closed.”

“It’s never closed until it’s solved.”

“Well, you don’t have authorization to solve it. All efforts must be localized around finding Keila.”

“Only way to find Keila is to find Erin.”

“What?”

Russo leans forward to plant a large hand on the file. “You were there when it happened. Do not tell me you cannot see that there is a relation between the two disappearances.”

Irritation wears Mason thin. He sighs heavily.

“There is no ~distinct~ relation. Erin and Keila disappeared in the middle of the night, yes. But the other five victims—witnesses— involved confirmed that they were in the woods together.

“All they were able to extract from the distraught children is that she was there one moment and gone the next.”

“How is that even possible?”

Mason shifts, suddenly uncomfortable.

“They were ordered not to press the kids too hard back then. But it was believed that Erin was being…groomed by someone who her friends must’ve known.

“How else would they have gotten a child from her bed and into the woods without a sound?”

Intrigue lifts Russo’s brow. “Any proof of that?”

“Yes, there is,” Mason says with grim certainty. “Erin’s mother reported that she often played in the woods with her friends, very often.

“She tried to ban her from going into the woods in fear for her safety, but Erin never listened. I suppose Mrs. Lockwood had no actionable reason to enforce this rule more severely; before her, Braidwood was a perfectly safe town.”

“Until it wasn’t.”

***

“Chief.”

The head of the Braidwood police flicks his wrist, motioning for Russo to take a seat. The detective eases down into the chair across from him.

“You better make your pitch fast and clear, I have another press conference this afternoon. The media is feeding on the public’s fear. Everyone’s scared that their kid is going to be snatched up by the boogieman, too.”

Russo releases an amused snort.

Chief Anderson cocks a thick salt-and-pepper brow at him. “Something funny to you, Russo?”

“Yes,” he says, undaunted. “I can assure you that whoever’s behind it is just a person.”

“You don’t say.”

“A person who can be found,” Russo continues in a persuasive tone, “if you let me try to find them.”

Chief Anderson shakes his head stiffly.

“No, the last thing I need is a deranged detective on the loose. You know how you can get with these types of cases. Everyone has a strength that, ill-managed, can become a weakness.”

“I disagree,” Russo says through gritted teeth. “My pain fuels my power. And as for the past years, I have sought counseling and have gained better control over my faculties.

“For years I’ve been benched, robbing your department of a good detective. No one has a higher close rate than me.”

“I don’t have time to listen to your gloating, so don’t throw stats at me.”

Russo draws in an exasperated breath.

“I’m saying I can help if you just let me,” he says, struggling to keep his voice calm. “I’m not saying I want to take the lead. Let me conduct my own peripheral investigation.

“You lose nothing by having more eyes on this case, Chief.”

The detective raises a valid point that Anderson cannot deny, despite his reservations. He nods slowly, surrendering to the idea.

“Okay, Russo, I’ll give you this one chance.” He jabs a sausage-like finger at his subordinate. “But if you get reported for even ~one~ incident of misconduct, ~you’re out~.”

Russo gets to his feet with a grateful nod.

“You report to Jefferson. He’s the lead on this.”

“No,” Russo blurts. He adopts a professional tone. “This has become a high-profile case. Can’t I rather report to you instead, Chief? ~I beg of you~.”

Anderson smiles briefly, drawing amusement from the detective’s obvious discontent.

“You have your orders.”

“Yes, Chief.” Russo pivots to leave.

“Russo.”

Russo pauses and glances back at him.

“Are you sure you can handle this?”

“I’m not of concern, Keila is. And I’m determined to find her.”

***

~How foolish I was. Mason was right. I was every shade of self-righteous and pompous. Even though I had every right to be.~

~How was it that I could save everyone else’s kid except for my own? I failed the victim—my son—the time he needed me most.~

~Doing my job and pledging to the badge was like pouring water into a bottomless pit. Finding Keila was my next obsession and everyone around me knew it would consume me from the inside out.~

~But first, I had to find out what happened to Erin Lockwood.~

~That was a question I never knew then that I did not want the answer to.~

^INTERLUDE: Making History^

^10 YEARS AGO^

“I’m just happy to see that she’s happy. And safe.”

Irene and Savio watched Mia and the others from the open sliding door, overlooking the fenced backyard. The field was Elysium-green.

Bees were still murmuring in that strange cult hum exclusive to them. They flitted from flower to flower, surfing the short spaces as they went.

Mia, Opal, Keila, and Akin played soccer, the ball bouncing among the four of them as they waited for the other two to arrive. Under the trellis of the wooden patio, a table was overloaded with snacks and drinks that awaited them.

“She’s safe,” Savio whispered absentmindedly.

Irene stole her gaze from them to look at her husband. “And she will stay safe.”

He fastened her gaze to his. “Not as long as I am here.”

“You know why you are here,” she said harshly. “She will need you during her Chrysalis.”

A knock sounded in the entryway, alerting them to more visitors.

She hesitated, then gave his arm a comforting squeeze before hurrying to the entrance.

“Coming!”

She opened the front door with a boisterous grin met with equal delight. Katherine’s willowy figure stood behind Erin, holding onto her shoulders with a luminous smile.

Katherine had hair like star flame, blending with her golden-tan complexion, and her bright moon-shaped eyes were kind.

Irene gave Erin a double fist pump in greeting.

She dipped her head to the side. “Everyone’s out back.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Drakos.” Erin zoomed inside without giving her mother even one glance back. “Bye, Mom!”

Irene and Katherine did an air kiss and quick hug in both a greeting and farewell.

“Are you sure this isn’t any trouble?”

“By now I think we’re all used to hosting these big sleepovers.”

Katherine laughed and nodded. “True. Do you need me to get anything, more snacks or something?”

Irene shook her head. “We have snacks to last a month, let alone a day. And Savio is making a traditional Greek dinner tonight.”

Katherine’s lips parted. “Yum, save me some.”

“Got it.”

She swiveled around and stepped down the front porch.

“Kathy, the others and I were thinking about having a girls’ night soon.”

She glanced back at her with an award-winning smile, still walking on. “Sounds fun. I’ll ask Leonard.”

Irene frowned at this.

Erin had raced inside and dropped her clothing bag with the others. The group engulfed her in an all-encompassing embrace, then resumed their game of free play.

At least an hour later, Aries arrived on the back of his grandfather’s Harley Davidson. Aries climbed off, helmetless, fixing the collar of his black motorcycle jacket.

“When do you need me to pick you up?”

Aries’s grandfather’s all-white beard was tainted with blotches of ebony, tied into a short plait that hung from his chin. Aries was a pebble cast down from the mountain of a man that was his granddad.

“I’ll ask Mia’s mom to call.”

The old man snapped a nod, then fixed Aries with a hard stare. “You behave, boy.”

Aries smiled mischievously. “Don’t I always?”

A smirk cracked the old man’s stony face. Without warning, he took off, nothing but a black-and-white blur.

Aries went over to the house, excitement building within that hid behind a neutral expression. He knocked on the door. Irene answered, dramatically outstretching her arm toward the inside.

“Thanks, Mrs. D.”

“Everyone’s on the deck. You can put your bag in the living room.”

Aries strolled into the living room and dumped his bag next to the pile. He breezed out of the sliding door that was connected to the patio.

To his left, the outdoor table was decorated with a candy store of sweets and treats. All his friends stood around the table, grasping at chips and sweets while they laughed and chatted loudly.

“Feasting without the guest of honor?”

They all looked at Aries and erupted into a cheer, all rising from their seats to gift Aries with the same warm reception Erin had received. Aries darted back, trying to evade their hugs. Alas, he was outnumbered.

“That was too adorable. I need a picture of that to send to your parents,” Irene squealed. “Babe,” she called out to her husband, “get the camera, please.”

Aries released a tortured groan.

Irene instructed them to get in a posing position, away from the scrumptious snacks, to stand in front of the wooden railing of the patio—the open yard their backdrop.

Savio soon came out with the camera in hand. Irene took it and leaned in to peck his cheek, then blinked into photographer mode.

She evaluated them through the lenses. “Okay, get closer.”

They all inched toward each other, embarrassed and awkward.

“Closer,” Irene encouraged, making urgent hand gestures.

“Mom,” Mia moaned.

“Closer,” she snapped.

They all stood shoulder to shoulder.

“Can you guys at least look like you are fond of each other? It seems as if I’m holding you hostage.”

“Because you are,” Aries said.

A burst of laughter from the rest of them.

“If I get a good shot, I’ll take you all out for breakfast tomorrow. And we can get Belgian waffles.”

Everyone snapped into position, lighting up superstar smiles.

“Thought so.”

All of them were huddled together. Akin his one arm wrapped around Opal’s neck, his other arm around Aries’s shoulder; Aries held Akin by the waist.

Opal lifted a forearm, crossing her chest and curling her fingers around Akin’s wrist. Mia sidled her flank so Opal draped her other arm over her.

Keila and Erin were at the forefront, entwined, low enough not to obstruct the four behind them.

“That is ~perfect~.” Irene blinded them with a barrage of shots. “This is one for the history books.”