Regina Bluefield, still dressed from work in a tight-fitting gray suit and fake python-skin pumps, sat in the police station, staring numbly ahead, sipping on the can of diet soda which had been bought for her from the lunchroom machine. They had returned twenty minutes earlier from the morgue, where Regina had identified the body of her mother after nearly collapsing at the sight.
‘How’re ya doin’ there?’ Heath Van Brunt asked solicitously. ‘Any better?’
Tears ran down Regina’s carefully made-up face and dripped off her jaw. She didn’t seem to notice them. She shook her head. ‘Not really. Oh, God, what am I gonna do?’
‘Is there somebody we can call for you, Mrs Bluefield?’
Regina shook her head. ‘No. I’m on my own now.’
Van Brunt reflected, as he waited for her to collect herself, that it was never easy to lose your mother, no matter how old you were. This woman seated beside his desk was in the process of discovering that harsh fact of life.
Nonetheless, there were questions to be answered and no time to waste. His men had discovered something very odd. The trunk of Mrs Kelly’s car was wet. The guys from the lab were examining the fabric which lined the trunk to try and find out how it got that way, but Van Brunt already had his theories. He just wished he had someone experienced on whom to try out his theories. He almost wished the chief were here.
Almost, but not quite. He liked being in charge.
‘Mrs Bluefield, I need to ask you a couple of questions. Just to clear up a few things.’
‘Sure,’ she said dully. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘Do you know what your mother was doing here in Monroe?
Regina looked around the police station with a dazed expression, as if she could not remember what she herself was doing in Monroe. Then, she looked back at the captain and seemed to remember. ‘Mom … she used to live here. She had an apartment in a house on Bigelow Street.’
‘Was she in the habit of coming back to visit?’
Regina shook her head and reached in her pocketbook. ‘She didn’t have time. She looked after my kids for me. Do you mind if I smoke?’ she asked.
Van Brunt shook his head. ‘I’d prefer you didn’t. We found a receipt in her car for the Endicott Hotel where she spent the night. Did she have a … romantic interest here perhaps?’
Regina had to laugh. ‘My mother? No,’ she said flatly.
‘Well, why would she spend the night here when you live half an hour away?’
‘She wouldn’t have driven home at night. She had cataracts, so her night vision was bad. She was afraid to drive on the highway at night.’
Van Brunt nodded. ‘They remembered seeing your mother at the hotel, but she didn’t speak to anyone. Did she tell you she was coming down here?’
Regina shook her head wearily and wiped away the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. ‘She didn’t tell me anything. I was at work. She brought my kids over to my husband’s … my ex, and she told him she had to go out of town for some reason. That’s all I know.’
‘Did she have a job here? Friends?’
‘She had some friends. Some women in her church group. She used to … to baby-sit for the guy who lived in the same house she did. He was a widower. Had a couple of kids.’
‘Name?’ asked the captain.
‘I forget. Wait a minute.’ Regina rummaged in her purse and pulled out an address book. She looked up a number and then pointed it out to the captain. ‘That’s him. Peter Ward. She might have stopped by to see the kids. She loved those kids. She was always talking about them …’
Van Brunt jotted down the number and then hailed Ken McCarthy, who was passing. He handed him the number, instructing him to call Peter Ward at that number. He turned back to Regina. ‘So, you had no idea she was planning to come down here?’
‘No,’ Regina wailed. ‘She wasn’t planning it. I’m telling you.’
‘Could she swim?’ Van Brunt asked.
‘Swim? No way. She never went into the water. Even at the shore in the summer when we were kids. She stayed under the umbrella. She was deathly afraid of water. That’s probably why she drowned. If my mother fell into a canal she’d be terrified.’
Van Brunt suspected it wasn’t quite that simple, but he didn’t say so. ‘Would she be likely to have been taking a walk along that towpath?’
‘I don’t know,’ Regina cried. ‘I guess so. If she had nothing else to do. I never saw her with nothing to do. I guess she might take a walk. What else could have happened? There wasn’t anybody who would deliberately …’ Regina stopped and stared at the captain. ‘She wasn’t … you know, it wasn’t a sexual thing, was it?’
‘No, apparently not.’
‘Thank God,’ said Regina. ‘Then it must have been an accident, right? She wasn’t robbed. She had all her stuff …’
‘Did you and your mother get along well?’
Regina sighed. ‘She was always on me. She drove me crazy. Didn’t think I should get divorced. Didn’t think I spent enough time with the kids. Didn’t want me going out after work. I’m still young. I just can’t sit home with the kids,’ she complained.
Van Brunt looked at her with raised eyebrows.
‘Wait a minute,’ said Regina. ‘Just because we didn’t always get along … Don’t look at me like that.’
Officer McCarthy returned, leaned over and spoke in a low voice to the captain. ‘OK, thanks,’ said Van Brunt. ‘No one answered Mr Ward’s phone. So my officer went to the apartment to check and apparently they have moved away.’
‘I don’t think she knew,’ said Regina dully.
‘Anyone else she might have visited?’
‘I don’t know,’ Regina cried. ‘Like I said, she had a couple of friends. She hardly ever talked to them.’
‘OK, Mrs Bluefield. Can you give us a list?’
‘I can look in her address book.’
‘All right. I’m going to send you home for right now. I’ll probably need to talk to you again, soon.’
Regina Bluefield looked at him vacantly. ‘What do I do now, Captain? What do I do?’
‘About what?’ the captain asked.
Her abrupt dismissal seemed to fluster her. ‘What will happen to her? To Mom?’
‘Well, we will keep the body for a post-mortem. We’ll know a lot more after that. And we are examining her car. We have some questions …’
‘About what. She drowned, right?’
Captain Van Brunt stood up. ‘After the post-mortem, the funeral home that you contact will make arrangements to come and get it … to come and pick up your mother’s body.’
Regina sighed a shaky sigh. ‘OK.’
‘As for yourself, I really think,’ said Van Brunt, glancing from her tear-streaked face to her trembling hands, ‘that you should call a friend to drive you home.’
‘I’m all right,’ she said.
‘I’m not sure that’s true, Mrs Bluefield. I think you should call someone. People are usually pretty good about helping out at a time like this. If there’s no one to call, one of my men can drive you.’
Not wanting to admit that without Bill Bluefield or her mother, there was no one who would care, Regina began trying to think of someone, neighbor or co-worker, she might impose on, to come and carry her home, just this one time.
Moonlight made a shimmering path across the surface of the lake. Dena stood beside Tory on the dock as the child threw little stones into the ladder-like reflection.
‘Look,’ Dena exclaimed. ‘The stars are out.’
‘Oh, I’m going to make a wish,’ Tory cried. Then she looked solemnly up at Dena. ‘I can’t tell you what it is though.’
‘No, of course not,’ said Dena.
The child screwed up her face, her eyes squeezed shut, and communed with the stars while Dena looked around at the peaceful scene. Theirs were the only lights in the chain of cabins along the lakefront. She could see a few lights winking on the other side, but it seemed as if they had this side all to themselves. There was something undeniably pleasant about it. She looked forward to spending the next day with the children, here in this isolated, forest-like setting. There was something so appealing about being here where no one could find you, and no one knew where you were. Without wanting to, she thought of Brian. Perhaps he came back, searching for her, again today. She could not help but feel a certain satisfaction, imagining how frustrated and baffled he would be to find her gone. This trip to Chicago might have its drawbacks, but she felt no doubt that she had been right to leave. Right to take this baby far away from a father who couldn’t control his jealousy and possessiveness. She would worry about Brian’s legal rights later, when they were far removed from his everyday intrusions. They could discuss it at a distance.
‘I did it. I made a wish,’ said Tory. ‘Do you want me to tell you what it was?’
‘No, you can’t,’ said Dena. ‘That would spoil it.’
‘Do you want me to give you a hint?’
‘Come on,’ said Dena with a laugh. ‘Let’s go back inside. You need to get to bed.’
‘Let me give you just one hint. It’s about you.’
Dena put her hands over her ears and Tory laughed. ‘Now scoot,’ Dena said.
The child scampered along the dock and up the slight incline of the shore to the path which led to the cabin. Reaching the door, Tory pulled it open and went inside. Dena followed slowly behind her, conscious of her great weight, of the heaviness in her belly. The door to the cabin stood open, and the glow from inside seemed to beckon. She stopped on the path and looked up at the stars.
I wish for you, Dena thought, addressing her unborn baby, I wish that you arrive safely, and are healthy, and that you have a happy life. It was a lot to pack into one wish. Somehow she knew that this would be her wish from now on in her life. She would wish for the happiness of her child. She sighed and began to walk toward the glowing door. She’d wished on a million stars in her life, and usually she had wished for love and romance. Not any more, she thought. She was bad at that kind of love, she decided.
Besides, there would be no room in her life now for romance. Now she would have her child to wish for, and that would be plenty.
A dark silhouette appeared in the doorway, blocking much of the light. Peter looked around and then spotted her, coming up the path. ‘Hey, what are you doing out there? It’s dark. You could fall and hurt yourself.’
Dena smiled at his fretting. Now that they were settled in, and had eaten supper, he seemed more like himself. Concerned and caring. A good man. She came up to the door and waited for him to get out of the doorway. Then she went inside. The girls were already in their pajamas, and Tory was digging through her little duffel bag for a book.
Dena lowered herself into one of the chairs, under a paper lampshade strewn with ferns that topped a maple standing lamp. She felt comfortably relaxed and sleepy. She had a book to read, but she felt too tired to concentrate on it.
Peter took the book from Tory, examined it and then nodded. ‘We’re going to read in their room,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you join us?’
‘I don’t think I can get out of this chair,’ she said smiling. ‘You girls have a good night’s sleep.’
Tory rushed over to Dena and gave her an awkward hug. Dena hugged her back.
Megan peeked out from behind Peter’s legs, her eyes wide and anxious-looking. ‘Good night sweetie,’ Dena said to her. Megan did not reply.
Dena could hear the soothing sound of their voices from the other room as she sat resting. She wished she had something to do. She glanced at the television which was on a little stand next to the fireplace. Why not, she thought? I’ll keep the sound low. She knew that Peter did not want the girls to watch it, but they would soon be asleep.
Besides, it wasn’t as if it were something immoral to watch TV. She picked up the remote control from the table beside her and switched it on, keeping the sound on mute and switched desultorily between channels. The reception was grainy at best, even on the few channels that were available. What was I expecting? she thought. Digital cable? She smiled and flipped past the game shows to the news programs. She stopped, by habit, at the local news that she and Brian used to watch, and gazed with detachment at the various snowy images on the screen. A fire, a picket line, some political thing that had residents lining up at a microphone to protest. She did not bother to turn on the sound for any of it.
All of a sudden, an image caught her eye that made her lean forward. Police and ambulances were clustered at the canal. It could have been anywhere along the canal, but the spot looked vaguely familiar. They were lifting a body bag and carrying it up the bank. Dena pushed the mute button and the sound blared forth.
‘… found drowned today near the canal bridge in Monroe. The dead woman was identified as Brenda Kelly of Riverside. The police found her car a short distance from where the body was found.’ At that, the image on the screen changed to a little purple Geo, parked near the water, the police looking it over carefully. ‘A police spokesman said that Mrs Kelly, who could not swim, may have fallen into the canal while taking a walk. But acting Chief Van Brunt said they had not ruled out the possibility of—’
At that moment, Peter walked in front of her and turned off the television. Sound and picture disappeared in an instant.
Dena sat up as if he had slapped her. ‘Hey, put that back on,’ she demanded. ‘I was watching that.’
Peter turned and held out his hand for the remote. ‘You know perfectly well that we don’t watch television.’
‘Peter, if I want to watch it, I will,’ she said.
‘There can’t be one rule for the children, and another for the adults,’ he said patiently.
‘That’s ridiculous,’ said Dena. ‘Adults drink alcohol and children don’t. What kind of a rule is that?’
‘When we drink alcohol, it doesn’t affect them. When you put the television on, they hear it, they see it, it seeps into their minds. And, let me remind you, that you don’t drink alcohol right now for that very reason. That it would affect the child you are carrying.’
Dena stubbornly stuffed the remote into the chair beside her. She stood up, because she did not like the feeling of him looking down on her. ‘Look Peter, I appreciate that you have these rules for the children and you want to stick to them. Heaven knows, I can go a few days without the TV. But …’
‘But?’ he asked.
‘But I am an adult, Peter. You cannot tell me what to do. Even on this short trip, it’s unacceptable.’
‘I don’t want to argue, Dena. It’s not good for you. For your blood pressure.’
‘That’s what I mean, Peter. You’re telling me what to do again. I’ll decide what’s good for me. Look, you’ve been on your own for a long time,’ she said, trying to muster some understanding for his position. ‘You’ve gotten out of the habit of having another adult to make decisions with. I’m sure you and your wife didn’t agree on everything …’
‘You are not my wife …’ he said coldly.
‘No, but as long as we’re traveling together, we have to be able to make certain compromises.’
‘No TV,’ he said. ‘That’s final.’ He turned away from her and rummaged around in his small bag until he found what he was looking for. She watched him, amazed at the way he had simply cut off the discussion. He seated himself at the card table with a sheaf of papers in his hand and began to study them.
‘What are you doing?’ she said.
‘Just collecting the papers for the car, so I’ll be prepared for tomorrow. Title, registration, all that.’ He looked up at her. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.
Dena shook her head. He clearly didn’t feel troubled by the truncated conversation. And she was too exhausted to argue the point. Just ignore it, she told herself. It’s only for a few days. ‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘I think I will go to bed too.’
‘Sleep well, Dena. I’ll try not to disturb you when I come in the room.’
Dena frowned. He was calm as if they had never argued. She did not bother to thank him for his consideration. She turned her back on him and walked into the room they were sharing. Switching on the bedside lamp, she glanced at her book and thought she might read a while once she was under the covers. She turned back the bedspread and sheets, and began to search in her bag for her toothbrush.
All of a sudden, as she was changing into her nightclothes, a thought came to her.
She put on her slippers and walked out to where he was, still seated at the table. ‘Peter,’ she said. ‘On the news, before you turned it off, they had a story about some woman who drowned in the canal. It said in the article that she had a purple Geo and that’s what made me think of it.’
‘Think of what?’
‘Some woman came to see you the other night, and I forgot to tell you.’
‘Came to see me?’ Peter asked. He sat very still, and his face was pale beneath his beard.
‘It was just before Brian broke in. I was so upset that it slipped my mind. What reminded me was that thing about the purple Geo. This woman had a purple Geo too.’
‘I don’t know anybody like that,’ said Peter curtly.
Dena thought about it, remembering what the woman had said. ‘She seemed to know you. She knew about the restaurant. She knew the kids. She said she’d come back.’
‘Well, obviously, she didn’t.’
Dena looked over at the blank screen. ‘I wonder …’ she said.
‘What?’ he asked, his gaze remaining on the papers in front of him.
‘Well, I’m wondering if it was the same woman. Maybe that’s why she didn’t come back. Because she fell in the canal before she could come back.’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ he said irritably.
‘Her name was Kelly. Brenda Kelly.’
‘I don’t know who that is,’ he said, in a tone that indicated that he wanted no more of this discussion.
‘I know that name,’ she said.
‘I can’t help you,’ he said. He bundled up all the papers and put a rubber band around them. ‘I’m going to put these out in the car,’ he said. ‘This way I’ll be all ready to make a trade tomorrow. I’m really thinking about a van. Don’t you think that would be more comfortable?’
‘A van is practical,’ she murmured, frowning at the feeling of something elusive, floating around at the edge of her memory.
‘Well, I think that’s what I’m going to do,’ he said. ‘See if I can get some kind of van for us.’
‘That’s good,’ she said absently. She knew she had seen that name somewhere.
Brenda Kelly. She could picture it in her mind’s eye, printed on a piece of paper. Somewhere, she thought. But where?