Dean got them lemonades and she sipped the lukewarm, too-tart concoction, trying not to pucker up. Dean was telling her more about boot camp and that he was nervous about going to Vietnam.
They sipped their drinks for a bit, standing in silence, but it didn’t feel awkward to her.
“I don’t ship out for two weeks. Would you like to see a movie next Saturday?”
“I’d like that.”
“Can I call you?” he said.
She noticed that he’d flushed a bit, and she felt relieved; she wasn’t the only one whose nerves were lit like a sparkler. “Sure. Let me find something to write my number down with.”
“Mary,” she heard her father say. He was standing just outside the picnic shelter.
“Dad, this is Dean.”
“Nice to meet you sir,” Dean said, offering his hand.
Dad shook his hand and muttered something. “Have you seen your sisters?”
“They’re probably playing in the woods.”
“Go find them please. Take soldier boy here with you.”
Dean said, “We’ll find them sir.”
Dad gave him a salute, something Mary didn’t care for, but Dean didn’t seem to take offense.
Six
Maria stood at the edge of the mansion’s driveway, where two town patrol cars were parked almost nose-to-nose. Three more patrol cars were circling the surrounding roads, and a half-dozen more officers were searching the woods on the property. Tim Berry had brought Trooper, the department’s K-9, but the dog had whined, refusing to enter the woods. Tim had looked mortified. He could only shake his head while he walked Trooper back to the K-9 SUV.
Someone had spotted a guy in a long coat in the woods and called 9-1-1, so they were here taking a look.
Martz said, “Where the hell did he go?”
“We’ll find him eventually,” Maria said. “He couldn’t have gone far.”
“Maybe we should call for Air One,” Jenna said.
“A county chopper? Nah. We don’t even know if this is the guy.”
She wanted to get home and curl up next to Tim in bed. There were still miles to go before she could rest, or so it seemed.
The search lasted until just after two in the morning, when the chief showed up and finally called it; their mystery man had evaded capture. The chief made a show of pounding his fist on the hood of a patrol car and swearing they’d catch the guy. Showing his dedication. In reality, he’d been roused out of bed by Maria at quarter of two and drove over to the scene.
One of the uniformed guys was strapping crime scene tape over the front door of the mansion. There’d technically been no crime here, but they wanted nosy kids staying out. The house had become a favorite for urban explorers. They could have the place as far as Maria was concerned. It hadn’t been torn down because supposedly the home had housed a speakeasy back in the Roaring Twenties. Al Capone had reportedly drank there on his way through Buffalo. Someone claimed it had historic value. Her ass.
Maria dropped Martz off and took the unmarked home, where she parked it in the driveway. She went up the walkway to her house, making a mental note to weed the front garden.
Tim was sacked out on the couch. His head was back, a massive snore coming out of him, and Cheetos crumbs littered his chest. An episode of The Big Bang Theory played on the television. As usual, Sheldon was being an insufferable douche. She picked up the remote and turned off the television.
Tim snapped awake, looking at Maria like she was a stranger. He maintained the puzzled look for another moment.
“Tim, it’s your girlfriend. Hello?”
“Oh, sorry. Deep sleep.”
“Go to bed. Sheldon and the gang will be back tomorrow.”
Tim said, “Can’t wait to watch Game of Thrones with you.”
“Sorry. Duty calls. Killer on the loose.”
“Shit, sorry. Westeros will still be there. You okay?”
“I’m okay. Hey, tomorrow call your sister and tell her to keep an eye on the kids. Not out after dark or anything.”
“I’ll let her know,” he said, taking notice of the crumbs and brushing them off. “You want something to eat?”
“I’ll make something,” Maria said. “Get to bed. You’ve got work tomorrow.”
Tim came over and kissed her, his lips still salty from the snack. He took his empty bowl and a glass to the sink and rinsed them. “Coming to bed soon?”
“In a bit,” Maria said. “Going to heat up a Healthy Choice in the microwave.”
“G’night,” he said, and headed for the bedroom.
Maria removed her jacket and draped it over the back of the recliner in the living room. She removed her gun belt, went to the room that functioned as their office, and put it in the safe. After closing up the safe, she went back to the kitchen.
In the freezer were a few French bread pizzas, which is what she really wanted. The gastrointestinal nightmare she’d have wasn’t worth it, however. The stomach and bowels weren’t the same at forty as they were at twenty or thirty. She settled on a Health Choice noodle bowl concoction. She heated it in the microwave.
She thought about the murder at the park. Who the hell cut someone’s head off? And they didn’t find the rest of the body. Tomorrow they’d stop by the halfway house and shake the place, see what came loose.
She didn’t want to think about the dead kids.
The microwave beeped and she removed her meal. Took it to the kitchen table and sat down. She looked out the double hung window. The moon was pale and the sky was clear. Full moon. The weirdos had definitely been out tonight if the moon had anything to say about it.
What about the
