“Yes. I gotta look up this Finn.”
The heat was lowered. Kerri scooped in fatfree sour cream and medium dry sherry and stirred it all. Alex groaned that itlooked so good his brain just quit, he couldn’t think on an empty stomach, sothey opened the wine and sat and dug in, amid more groaning from Alex mimickinga porn movie over how good it was. “Healthy and luscious, oh God, ohGod, I’m in heaven - make this often, bring it in to work?”
Kerri laughed and said yes.
But soon enough they got back to it, wentthrough it all again, with Alex following the dots that Kerri had made. “So…LiddyBarron’s water nightmares led to her husband who led to Carl Finn. Curious how thingssometimes come together.”
“Liddy came in because of yesterday’s TVconference.”
“Oh, right.” He was in his phone checkingout Carl Finn online, in his Facebook pictures, then switching back to photosKerri had shown him of Finn and Liddy Baron’s husband at their sciencegathering. Kerri had her phone out too, showing the photo of Allen, Barron, andCarl Finn before Barron’s boat.
Alex pointed to Paul Barron. “He isn’t anM.D.?”
“No, just Allen and Finn, though for sure Allen’sbeen extra careful doling out prescriptions knowing he’s being watched, andSasha would have been wary of street dealers, online drugs. Who wouldn’t be ifyou had a friendly doctor?”
Kerri watched Alex frown at Carl Finn inclose up. “Liddy Barron also claimed she sketched Sasha without ever having seenher. I saw the sketch, it was eerie - a match.”
“How could she not know who it was?”
Kerri told him about Liddy’s accident, herhospital stay coinciding with the news coverage of Sasha’s disappearance, andsomeone telling her maybe she saw the girl’s picture on the hospital TV,identified and remembered her sub-consciously.
“Got any room left?” she said. “I’ve got dessert.”
They moved to the couch where she wasscooping vanilla ice cream onto apple pie when her phone buzzed.
She checked the readout with surprise. “What’sthis?”
21
There was one lamp onin the bedroom. She wanted it that way because that’s how she felt: sad, fullof dark shadows, lonely. This wasn’t healthy, going through old stuff, tryingto figure what to throw out, what to pack, but Paul was working and it was onher list. Finish sorting, finish filling those Bekins boxes. What stays? Whatgoes? Surely not this beat-up old sweatshirt – ha – the one she’d wanted to getand couldn’t that time Carl was trysting down in the berth and Paul didn’t wantto disturb him.
No, that stayed, went into this box on theright because it was a reminder of an angry day. A wearable symbol of theresentment she felt for Carl and the hold he always had over Paul. It wasstupid and passive, really: when she wore the damned sweatshirt Paul had noidea it was her way of silent protest, weak and mute but somehow a comfort. Whatdifference would it make anyway if she complained? She had tried; Paul hadthrown up his hands as if she wasn’t being fair; it had come to nothing. Funnyhow some old clothes can make you feel better.
Enough.
She started tossing things. Jeans reallytoo far torn - out, into the box on the left. Ditto the ragged old Reeboks, thewhite T-shirt with the wine stain, the blue T-shirt with the VILLAGE DRUNK logoon it - why had she ever thought that was funny? The red T-shirt…
She stopped and stared at it. Blinked, heldit up. In the shadowy end of the bed, it looked darker than she knew it was. Shebrought it to the head of the bed, sat again and touched its old fabric underthe light. The stitching was frayed along the neckline, but the color was stillas red as the day it was new. Red…red…she stared at it, remembering the redteddy bear of her dream. The soaking red teddy bear, swept away in thecurrent with Sasha clinging to it.
Sasha. Her ear stud.
“Was I right about the teddy bear?” she had asked Kerri Blasco.
“Close. Very close,” the detective had smiled and said.
Liddy’s frustration returned over not beingable to describe it. She had seen it and sketched it! Surely, somewhere in therecesses of her overburdened mind the stud was still there. She wanted toremember, really push to prove to herself that, despite everything, her mindstill worked.
Small ball on top, bigger one below…kindalike a snowman. Right, stupid, a snowman in a red T-shirt.
Liddy raised her head; blinked. Somethingwas coming. She stared at the closed curtain on the window as if it were amovie screen, and saw, focusing, not a snowman in a red T-shirt but… It focusedfurther, and suddenly her heart took off because she had it, and jumped for herpurse, found what she was looking for, then came back to the bed by the lamp andstarted punching her phone.
The other end picked right up. “Blasco.”
“Winnie the Pooh!” Liddy cried. Thenhalf-stammered identifying herself and said it again. “It just came to me. Theear stud of the blond girl who passed us that day was Winnie the Pooh.”
“You’re sure?” Kerri said cautiously.
“Yes, yes, I had one as a kid, have been seeinghis little red T-shirt without realizing, obsessing about red in all sorts ofcrazy ways.” Pause to gulp air. “I don’t know if it helps, it’s just nice toknow I haven’t totally lost my mind. I just…wanted to tell you.”
“You nailed it,” Kerri said quietly. Alexwas by her on the couch. He’d been leaning on her but he straightened; got outhis notebook.
Liddy sat hunched on the bed. Hersurroundings had disappeared and her months of torment were now maybeexplainable in the phone. “Why did I see her, can you tell me that? Thenews says no one else has, and out of the blue she comes to me? Why?”
“I wish I knew, Liddy. You did see her ontelevision.” It was a still-cautious, trick comment.
“Not close enough to see any ear stud whichshe wasn’t wearing anyway! You said it wasn’t in any photos released.”
She’d nailed it again. Kerri glanced
