Page 24 of Fragments of the Past

“Fred?”

“Yes, because he bears a striking resemblance to Paul… Don’t you. Don’t you.”I baby-talk, holding Fred up to my nose and wiggle.

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t expect you would. Chalk it up as another one of life’s great mysteries.” I peck Anson on the lips and thank him for the kitten. “Fred makes my heart happy. You make my heart happy,” I say. It’s too soon for I love you, but that’s what I mean.

“You make my heart happy, too, Rae Lee.”

My heart skips a beat and my lips part, startled at his words. Anson’s unabashed grin tells me we’re on the same page about where this relationship is headed.

He leans in to kiss me goodbye and his velvety tongue swipes against mine. I wrap an arm around his neck, cautious not to crush the ball of fur cradled between us. He pulls my lower body flush to his and his arousal presses at my belly. My inner thighs warm.

Anson picks up on my legs shifting. I wiggle, trying to satisfy the ache until we’re in bed together again.

“You have a problem there, Rae?”

“Not one I can’t solve on my own.” I wink.

His eyes shift toward my dresser, then back to mine. A woman doesn’t have to be clairvoyant to know what Anson is thinking. I was a single gal for a while. There are more items in the top drawer than lingerie and a new box of condoms.

“Don’t.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss. “Dare.”

ANSON

The single most part of this job I despise is being responsible for informing a family that they’ve lost a loved one. Though Brighton P.D.’s crime scene investigation unit trucks parked away from prying eyes, a reporter got wind of our presence at the park. So when Chaim brought in the county coroner’s office to assess our findings, and the local news immediately picked up the story and ran with it for the four o’clock news, I felt the ticking time bomb of impending doom.

Despite my hunch being correct and being proud of Rae Lee’s because the new leads she provided panned out, there’s no glory in solving this case. A little girl still died. A mother still grieves.

Using dental records and DNA, the state’s forensic pathologist identified the teeth and skull as belonging to Pearl Tatton. It was a fluke we had any remains at all. Though her assailant wrapped her small body in a tarp, time was unkind and nature ran its course. A few years from now, there’d hardly be a shred of evidence left. The things Pearl showed Rae Lee wouldn’t tie together with what I saw with my own two eyes. The hard proof I need to go on as a cop would be non-existent. As would the confidence I have in my girlfriend’s experiences with the afterlife.

In retrospect, Mrs. Turner’s insistence that we bring Rae Lee in on the case wasn’t a great deal of comfort to her the day I sat Susan down to share the news that we finally found her daughter. I was glad the department had something to return to her at all. However, seeing her child, holding Pearl’s whole healthy and living body is something I regret not being able to do. As was Susan’s ability to have an open casket at Pearl’s memorial, which Rae Lee and I attended.

I was hardly out of the police academy at the time of Pearl’s disappearance. Yet—akin to the days after Angeline’s fatal shooting—the feeling like I hadn’t done enough persists. Not knowing what prompted Pearl to open the door the evening she disappeared haunts me. I hope the answers come soon.

Driving across town, the closer I get to the Turners’ the more obvious it is that I need to get my wits about me. Although the maudlin thoughts have crept in, I’m happy to have left Rae Lee’s on a positive note. Grant was worried about separating the cats, but when he chose the black one my gut trusted the other belonged with Rae Lee.

By naming the kitten Fred, Rae Lee dangled a mystery in front of me. It’s a puzzle I intend to solve. Saint Rita hasn’t led me astray so far.

Susan greets me at the door. She looks happy to see me. My insides churn. The latest update is sure to break apart whatever pieces of her heart she’s mended.

“Do you recognize this man, Susan?” I show her a printout with two pictures of the suspect we’ve identified. Side-by-side, the first image was taken over a decade ago.

Susan’s eyes track to the recent photo. The man’s hair is grayed. His cheeks gaunt. The drab jumpsuit he’s wearing adds years to his age. She’s about to give a clipped nod and say no, when she shifts her gaze and focuses on the suspect as a younger man.

“Alan.” Susan’s face pinches. Tears fill her eyes and her chin wobbles.

It’s evident when it clicks for Pearl’s mother the way it had for me.

What Susan and I heard the day of Rae Lee’s walk-through was Pearl left on a dare. That was even Rae Lee’s initial interpretation.

But Pearl was emphatic and Rae Lee repeated over and overIt was a dare.

The email I hadn’t opened during the excavation at the park was the Town of Brighton Parks and Recreation entire employment records going back to the department’s inception.

At the top of the list was a short-term hire.

AlanAdair.

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