Page 21 of Fragments of the Past

I get out of bed in search of my clothes. Rae Lee gets up too, boiling water and pouring us steamy cups of tea. I bob the tea infuser in and out of my cup, making the water darker and sip, grateful it’s not decaf. I’ll pick up an Americano and a cinnamon bun—scratch that, I want two chocolate croissants—at Baked Beans in transit to the park.

This morning has the propensity to go south for someone. Even if a fraction of the pieces come together, it’ll be a long one, that’s for sure.

Dressed, I slip my phone in my pocket and pat myself down for my keys. “I swear for the amount of tedious things I lose, it has gotta be paranormal,” I joke.

“No. She doesn’t move anything,” Rae Lee says with a straight face over her porcelain teacup.

“Who?” I can’t tell if she’s joking.

“No one.” Her eyes dart away as if her wall of craft supplies owns her interest, though she’s been gawking at my ass while I got dressed.

No offense taken. I’d watched her slip a silk robe over her body. My fingers are itching to take it off of her before she showers.

“Is there a…” Ghost? At my place? Following me around?

“I didn’t say that,” she balks.

She didn’tnotsay that either. I sit on the edge of the bed with my shoulders slumped. “Tell me the truth.”

“You were there when she died. She’s given me the impression you’re unhappy and it makes her sad.”

Angeline.Her divorce was finalized. She and Grant had moved in with Angeline’s mother. She’d finally trusted me with everything that had gone wrong in her marriage. All of the mistakes she felt like she’d made. All of the domestic abuse cases she investigated, giving advice to the survivors that made her feel like a hypocrite. She feared something as simple as seeing a business card would set her ex-husband off, and she memorized the hotline numbers in case one day she needed to call.

The closer we got, the more she shared how guilty she felt pretending she wasn’t a victim. And the remorse she had the day things went past the point of no return and Grant’s father intentionally struck their child to make her bend to his will.

We stopped hiding that our friendship changed into a relationship. We were going to see where things led. She’d found stability. I was ready, willing, and able to step up and be the one to leave Brighton P.D. so that Angeline didn’t find herself having to start over again, this time in her career.

“He shot her. Point blank. In the street.” I shake my head, reliving the unfairness of it all in slow motion.

Along with several units, we’d responded to an emergency. Unbeknownst to anyone, Angeline’s ex had tailed us. She got out of the car and so did he. Then he took aim three times, focusing on where ballistic vests don’t cover, intending to do the most damage. Tale as old as time, it didn’t matter what the courts said, her abuser had no intention of letting go. I can still feel Angeline’s blood pouring through my fingers as I tried to put pressure on her neck wound.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Rae Lee touches my arm.

My vision blurs. I blink the misty eye away. “What Angeline went through wasn’t hers either. She didn’t deserve to die… Neither did Pearl.”

I’m a good man. A good cop. But the thoughts about what I’d do to the guyif onlycreep in. Adrenaline amps me up. It makes my skull pound.

I rest my head in my hands. Rae Lee’s body encircles mine. Talking about how amazing Angeline was is one thing. However, discussing her death slices at old wounds. Rae Lee holds me, whispering things I’ve wondered about. Repeating advice and words of forgiveness I’ve given to others that I’ve needed to heed myself. I haven’t felt connected to anyone since Angeline. Not that I’ve gone out of my way to do anything about that. Perhaps that’s what Angeline is trying to do for me; making me get my head out of my ass. I don’t know any reason why Rae Lee and I would’ve crossed paths otherwise.

I turn and catch Rae Lee’s lips. “Thank you for giving me closure.”

Grief is funny. It sneaks around the corner when you least expect it. Though, I have a sense of peace I haven’t felt in quite a while. Relief from the angst and ambiguity surrounding her daughter’s disappearance is exactly the feeling I intend to get for Pearl Tatton’s mother.

A short while later, Rae Lee walks me down the stairs. I skim my fingers over the sleeves of her soft robe and we say goodbye. I get home with enough time to shower and don fresh clothes and am fortunate enough that the line at Baked Beans moves fast.

Pulling into the park’s parking lot, I pass Chaim. He’s talking to the Parks and Rec Administrator. They’re standing outside of an eight-foot fence draped with a standard blue canvas tarp for privacy that surrounds the well and extends out to include several feet of the walkway into the park.

When I reach them to say hello, Chaim’s got his hands in his pockets, completely nonchalant. Friendly when shaking my hand, the administrator’s return to a folded position across his chest. Considering that the crew has to dig slowly—and that we haven’t been upfront with him about what evidence we used to petition the court for the search warrant—I don’t blame the guy for wanting to be here.

It feels like a cliché to stand around drinking coffee and eating pastry while waiting for the backhoe operator to start the engine. But cops have got to eat sometime. If any evidence turns up, Chaim and I have no idea when our next meal might be.

“Tried that new beer at Mark-39,” I say around a mouthful of sweet.

Chaim swallows a swig of coffee. “Figures. I’ll take the wife this week.”

“Rain check, remember. Choose a night and dinner’s on me.” I’ll ask Rae Lee to come too.

The rest of the town maintenance crew arrives. They start with jackhammers, efficiently demolishing the well. Chunks of debris fall, clattering and breaking into smaller pieces.

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