The next morning, there was a loud knock at the door.
Sylvie snapped awake. Next to her, Sebastian lay sprawled, still sleeping. Who’s at the door, she wondered. Only one way to find out.
Sylvie snuck out of the bed, tiptoeing not to wake Sebastian. Her bones ached from lack of sleep and being cramped in Sebastian’s twin bed. She’d barely slept, squished with Sebastian as he’d tossed and turned. Not to mention her own racing thoughts. All she kept thinking about was that it wasn’t just June who’d died, but her baby, too.
Sylvie went down the stairs as another knock pounded on the door with urgency.
“Sylvie,” Mom said in a hushed, panicked voice, appearing from the kitchen doorway. Sylvie jumped, startled by Mom’s presence. Mom was still in her pink terry robe, her makeup half rubbed off. She looked like she hadn’t slept much, either. “Someone’s at the door.”
“Shouldn’t we answer it?” Sylvie asked, pointing out the obvious. Her stomach growled.
“I don’t want any more company. I just want to be left alone.” Mom said. Sylvie could hear the worry hiding in the depths of Mom’s voice.
“We have to answer it, Mom.” Sylvie said, walking past her into the living room. “I’ll try to see who it is.”
Sylvie tried not to trip as she walked into the dark room. The blinds were drawn. She went closer to the front window and stood to the side, trying to peek through the cracks of the blind without lifting it up.
“Don’t let anyone see you,” Mom said. “Who is it?”
Before Sylvie could answer, there was another loud, demanding knock.
“Mrs. Mitchell, it’s the police,” Sylvie recognized Officer Lopez’s voice from behind the door.
Mom leaned on the couch as if she needed the support to stand. “You’ve got to answer it, Sylvie. I can’t take any more bad news,” she said in a loud whisper.
“Mom, if we don’t answer, they’ll think we’re hurt. It’ll be okay.” Sylvie sympathized with Mom because her heart was racing, too. Why were the cops here? Had they found Dad?
“Ok.” Mom said. “I’ll get it.” She wrapped her robe tighter around her body, tying it with its sash, then fluffed her hair with her fingers. After taking a deep breath, she placed her hand on the doorknob and straightened her posture. She opened the door just as another knock began to pound.
“Mrs. Mitchell,” Officer Lopez said, holding his fist midair, caught in the midst of knocking once more. He stood next to another cop Sylvie didn’t recognize.
“Where’s Joe?” Mom asked, looking at the new cop.
“He’s been taken off the case,” Officer Lopez said. “Being related and all… It was a conflict.”
“We may be related by blood,” Mom said, “but we’re not close.”
“I understand, but the chief pulled him. This is Officer Brian; he’ll be assisting me going forward.” Lopez motioned to Officer Brian, the short cop with spikey hair and a muscular build.
Officer Brian flashed a smile, exposing the dimple on his left cheek. Sylvie couldn’t help but notice his baby soft skin. He looked like he’d just graduated high school, never mind the Police Academy.
“Can we come in?” Officer Lopez asked.
Mom stepped to the side, motioning her hands to the invisible path that led to the living room.
Both officers trudged in, their radios making random beeps and other various sounds as they entered.
Officer Lopez turned the volume on his radio down. “Has Mr. Mitchell come home?” He asked, scanning the living room.
Mom fixed the toss pillows on the couch from where she’d slept. “If he was here, Officer, I’d have let you know—seeing as how there’s a missing report filed on him and all.” She fixed the last pillow. “Would you like coffee?”
The officers exchanged glances.
“That would be great,” Officer Lopez said.
Mom led them into the kitchen. It was still a mess from the funeral reception. The garbage was overflowing with paper plates and plastic cups. There were crumbs on the counter and a sink full of empty, dirty casserole dishes.
“Excuse the mess,” Mom said. “I just haven’t had, I just—” She stopped talking as her eyes darted from the officers to the messy counter.
“We understand, Mrs. Mitchell. No worries.” Officer Lopez pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table. Officer Brian sat next to him.
Mom took out three mugs, one for each of them, except Sylvie. Mom never let her drink coffee. She always told her it would stunt her growth.
Officer Lopez scanned the kitchen. His eyes moved slow, as if he was taking mental note of every detail. When he noticed Sylvie, he smiled.
Mom poured the coffee. “Milk? Creamer? Sugar?”
“Black is fine,” Officer Lopez said.
“Same. Black for me too,” Officer Brian agreed.
Mom put sugar and cream in her own coffee, then handed the officers their mugs.
“Thank you, Ma’am.” Officer Brian took a sip. “Whew, that’s hot.” He smacked his lips together as he pushed the coffee away from himself. Sylvie wanted to congratulate him for being so observant, but figured that wouldn’t go over well.
“How can I help you this morning, officers? Do you have any new information?” Mom sat down with her coffee at the head of the table. She didn’t take a sip.
Sylvie leaned up against the counter and yawned. The smell of the coffee made her nose tingle. She had to have some. She went to the coffeepot and poured herself a cup.
Mom shot her a disgruntled look but didn’t stop her.
Officer Lopez flipped open his notepad and took his pen out of his pocket. “When was the last time you saw your husband, Mrs. Mitchell?”
“Please, call me April,” Mom said. “The last time I saw Jack was the morning of June’s…” She paused. “The morning before June—”
“It’s okay; take your time,” Officer Lopez took out a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her. “It’s clean,” he said.
She took it and wiped her eyes.
“Did you notice anything unusual about that morning?” Officer Brian prodded.
“No—I mean, I don’t remember anything. Of course, I’d worked a double and had been exhausted. I saw him for a few moments, then went to bed. He always takes care of the kids in the morning.”
Both officers looked at Sylvie.
“Did you notice anything different about your dad that morning, Sylvie?” Officer Lopez asked.
“Not really. Just that he made pancakes.” Sylvie poured her coffee down the sink. It tasted like burnt dirt.
“Pancakes?” Officer Brian asked.
“Yeah, he cooked us pancakes. Which was weird because he usually only did that for special occasions.”
“I see.” Officer Lopez jotted down notes. “And was there a special occasion? Maybe the homecoming dance?”
“No. I mean, Dad didn’t really care about homecoming.” Sylvie said.
“No? Why not?” Officer Lopez pondered.
“What dad does?” Sylvie gave a dramatic eye roll. “I mean, he’s always excited for us, about our school events or things we’re excited for, but he wouldn’t, like, celebrate it.”
“Did he mention anything to either one of you about his plans for the day?” Officer Lopez wrote down more notes.
Sylvie paused. She couldn’t remember. Had he?
“No,” Mom said. “There was no need to. He was headed to the pawnshop, like always.”
“So, there was nothing suspicious? Nothing at all?” Officer Brian looked at them both as if he didn’t believe them.
“Well, actually…” Mom said. “There was one thing.”
“What was that?” Officer Lopez jotted down more notes, then looked up at Mom.
Both officers leaned forward.
“Well, around one in the afternoon, he called me from the pawnshop. He seemed a little off.”
“Off, how?” Officer Brian probed.
“Well,” Mom paused. “He told me he loved me. He doesn’t really say that much. You know, we just… he isn’t typically mushy, you know?” Mom ran her hands through her hair. She took out a pack of Marlborough lights from her robe pocket and lit a cigarette. “You don’t mind, do you?” she asked.
The officers shook their heads. Why is Mom even asking them? Sylvie thought. It’s her house.
Mom lit up the cigarette and took a drag.
Officer Brian cleared his throat. “And what did you think? When he said that? What did you say?”
“Well, of course, I said I loved him back. That was it. Then I said I’d made chicken for dinner and reminded him that the girls had the dance. Oh, and I asked him to bring home a gallon of milk.” She tapped her cigarette on the edge of the crystal ashtray.
Sylvie tried to remember what time she’d called Dad to tell him about Rick. It’d been around noon.
“And how about his relationship with June? Were they close?” Officer Lopez leaned back in his chair.
“What are you getting at, officer?” Mom asked. She took another drag of her cigarette before putting it out. Why bother even lighting it, Sylvie thought.
“I’m not going to lie, Mrs. Mitchell. But it’s suspicious that your husband disappeared the day your daughter was murdered. Especially under these circumstances.” Officer Lopez hit the button of his retractable pen, pushing its tip in and out. The clicking sound hung in the air, taking measure of the silence.
“Under what circumstances?” Mom sat straight up and eyed each of the officers as if she were investigating them, not the other way around.
“Under, because—” Officer Lopez glanced at Sylvie, then back to Mom. “There have been whispers, which based on some circumstantial evidence we’ve found in June’s backpack, we believe to be true.”
“You mean because June was pregnant?” Sylvie blurted. She wondered what evidence the police found in June’s backpack. A diary? A letter to Rick? Something else? She was sure the pregnancy was what the cops were talking about.
Both officers and Mom looked at Sylvie, surprised.
“You knew she was pregnant?” Officer Brian asked.
“Yes, I did. I do. I know now she was pregnant.” Sylvie stumbled over her words.
Mom stared at her. “What? What are you talking about, Sylvie?”
“I found out last night.”
“Can you elaborate?” Officer Lopez asked.
“I couldn’t sleep. So, I went into June’s room and looked around. I thought maybe I could find a clue. I found a pregnancy test, and it was positive. That’s it.” Sylvie shrugged as if it were no big deal. She left out the part about the bracelet. She wasn’t sure if it had any relevance, considering she didn’t know how June got it.
“Did you know about the pregnancy?” Officer Brian raised his eyebrows as he turned to Mom.
“No. Of course not. At least not until now.” Mom pushed back her chair. “I had no idea.” Mom looked off into space, avoiding both the officers and Sylvie’s gaze.
“Do you think your husband knew?” Officer Lopez asked, his eyes glued to Mom. Sylvie hated the way he asked, as if he suspected Dad was the killer, the pregnancy his motive.
“I mean,” Mom’s voice trailed off. She looked back at the officers. “No, I mean, he’d surely have told me something like that. I just—what evidence did you find of this? I mean, you are sure about this?” Mom furrowed her eyebrows as she stumbled over her words.
“There was a letter to Rick in the backpack, letting him know.” Officer Brian spoke sternly and to the point.
“A letter?” Mom asked. “To Rick?”
“It was Rick Greene’s baby,” Sylvie interrupted. Who did these cops think they were? They hadn’t found the killer or Dad. All they seemed to do was put new cops on the case and show up here with questions.
“What are you talking about, Sylvie? Rick Greene? The real estate agent? The one that sold Nonna’s house? That’s ridiculous,” Mom let out a nervous laugh. Still, Sylvie could see the muscles in Mom’s jaw tighten.
“Tell me what you know about Rick Greene.” Officer Lopez looked Sylvie straight in the eye. Sylvie fidgeted.
“Well, I know June was seeing him. She told me. She said it was a secret. She’d broken up with Bruce Martin. In fact, I think you should go to Rick Greene’s house and question him instead of questioning us about my dad.”
There was an awkward silence.
“We’re not accusing your father,” Officer Lopez finally said. “We just—”
“It sure sounds like you are,” Sylvie snapped
“Rick Greene has an alibi,” Officer Brian interrupted.
“Excuse me,” Mom cleared her throat. “Am I the only person here who didn’t know a thing about Rick Greene? I mean if, and I mean if, June was pregnant, she was dating Bruce Martin. I never heard anything about the two of them breaking up. And what do you mean Rick has an alibi? Why on earth would you investigate him in the first place? And why am I just hearing about all this now?”
Officer Lopez paused, then said, “As I said, we found evidence in June’s backpack, a letter. We’ve also confirmed these facts with our investigation, with mostly circumstantial evidence of—”
“What circumstantial evidence? What other evidence besides this letter?” Mom shot them both an angry look.
“We’re not at liberty to discuss, Ms. Mitchell, all the evidence just yet,” Officer Lopez said.
“When you say evidence,” Mom said. “Are you talking about actual hard evidence or whispers around town? Which translates to gossip? Your circumstantial evidence is town gossip?” Mom stared intently at both officers as if she could shoot laser beams out of her eyes.
“Listen, Mrs. Mitchell, we understand how difficult this all is. We haven’t wanted to reveal too many details about the case just yet. There are some things we need to keep private to avoid the information getting out there, hurting the investigation.” Officer Lopez spoke sternly and to the point.
“No, you listen. Private?” Mom laughed. “Private? My daughter is dead, officers, and my husband is missing. You’re in my house drinking my coffee, questioning me about my husband as if he’s the killer you’re looking for, while the real killer is on the loose. And you’re doing this in front of my daughter. I have a right to know these ‘private’ details, don’t you think?”
Officer Brian tapped his fingers on the table.
Officer Lopez sighed. “Along with the letter in June’s backpack, we also found some evidence tying Rick Greene to June at the scene,” he finally said. “We found his business card in the dirt, along with… along with a photo.”
“A photo?” Mom asked.
“Yes, it was a Polaroid of Rick and June. They were—how do I say this—they were in an…” He stopped as he searched for the right words. “…in an embrace. A loving embrace.” Officer Lopez avoided looking at Mom.
Mom looked away. She stared at the kitchen cabinets as if she was trying to decide what color to paint them and not that she’d just learned not only that her deceased daughter was pregnant, but that there was a picture of her fooling around with an older man. Sylvie could see the blood draining from Mom’s skin as it turned from a normal shade of peach to a pale sallow yellow.
“So, naturally, we questioned Rick,” Officer Lopez continued. “Rick said he was supposed to meet June by the tree but got caught up at a showing. He gave us the name and number of the client, as well as his broker’s info. We checked both out and confirmed he was telling the truth.”
“Confirmed he was telling the truth…” Mom mocked. “How do you confirm someone is telling the truth?”
“The client and his broker corroborated his story,” Officer Brian said.
“Not only did they corroborate his story, but there were other witnesses, as well, that we found, who saw him around the time of June’s murder with his client at the showing,” Officer Lopez added. “It would have been impossible for him to have done it. He wouldn’t have had the time.”
“And,” Officer Brian added, “the fact that his business card and the photo of the, er, embrace was there—that’s suspicious. It means someone took that photo, which leads us to believe that the killer is someone who was upset by their relationship.”
“So, naturally, given that Mr. Mitchell disappeared the day of June’s murder, it’s not too far of a stretch to think that maybe an overprotective father…” Officer Lopez’s voice faded.
“Well, well. You two just have it all figured out, don’t you?” Mom stood up. “I think it’s time for you to both go.”
“What about Bruce?” Sylvie said. “Have you questioned him?”
Officer Lopez glanced at Sylvie. “Bruce Martin?” he asked. “The football player? No, we haven’t. Is there a reason we should?” He wrote Bruce’s name down in his notes.
“Well, for one thing, like I’ve already told you, he was June’s ex-boyfriend. She broke up with him a few days before. And, another thing, he wasn’t at the dance. When they called his and June’s names for homecoming king and queen, he wasn’t there.” Sylvie crossed her arms over her chest, feeling the cool rush of air over her skin. A gnawing sensation seemed to be eating away her insides. Sylvie sucked in her breath.
“Go on,” Officer Brian said.
“Well, when I was in June’s room, I noticed her answering machine. We have our own line, and, well, her answering machine…” Sylvie took another deep breath as her hurried speech made her gasp for air. “It had an awful message from Bruce. Like, threatening.” Sylvie went on to the explain the details of the message she’d heard. As she spoke, she could feel the muscles in her body stiffen.
“Can we take a copy of that answering machine tape?” Officer Lopez asked when Sylvie was done explaining. He looked over at Mom. “Technically, we need a search warrant, but if you offer us the tape as evidence…”
Mom nodded and motioned for Sylvie to go grab it.
Sylvie didn’t move. She wanted to hear the rest of what the officers had to say.
“We’ll question Bruce.” Officer Lopez stood up. “We’ll question his family and friends, too. But, at some point, we may need to search June’s room or the pawnshop. I’m telling you as a courtesy, so it’s not a surprise if we show back up with a warrant. If this lead, or no other leads, result in anything, Mrs. Mitchell—I mean, April,” Officer Lopez corrected, “we’ll have no choice but to further investigate your husband.”
“I understand.” Mom nodded as she stood up, too. Then, she turned to Sylvie and said, “Now, go get that tape.”