Eva Rae Thomas Mystery Box Set Page 14

  "And a good morning to you too," I said and put my laptop down. I sat on my chair.

  He came closer and leaned in over me. "You punched Phillip Anderson last night?"

  "Oh, that, well…yes."

  He shook his head and threw out his arms. "Are you crazy?"

  "You already asked me that once," I said. "But to answer, no."

  "He was in here earlier, blabbing on about how you came to his house in the middle of the night and punched him in the nose. The chief was furious. Why, Eva Rae? Why would you do that?"

  "He deserved it."

  A furrow appeared between his eyebrows. "I don't get you. He was threatening to press charges and everything. You're lucky you have me. I managed to talk him out of it."

  "Let him," I said.

  "What?"

  "Let him press charges. I'll show the judge the pictures of the woman that he beat senseless last night."

  Matt pulled out his own chair and sat down. "What are you talking about? Phillip? He would never do anything like that."

  "Oh, I have the pictures to prove otherwise," I said and grabbed my phone. I found a series of pictures I had taken of Dawn while she was sleeping, just in case we needed them for prosecution later. I was still hoping she would change her mind and press charges against this guy.

  Matt grabbed my phone and looked through them, swiping with small light gasps emerging from between his lips.

  "In case you can't tell, that’s Dawn. What’s left of her."

  "Phillip did this?"

  I nodded.

  "Oh, the bastard, I have never…" He looked up, and our eyes met. "He’s such a nice guy?"

  "They're usually the worst," I said, thinking about Chad and how wonderful he had been when we first met. He had never laid a hand on me; that wasn't his style, but he had turned around completely and showed a side to himself I didn't know existed. I could never have imagined he would abandon his children like that and not want to be with them anymore. Just like that. Had anyone told me six months ago, I would have laughed. Those kids were his entire life. I thought I knew him, but apparently, I had no clue.

  "Wow, I must say, I am…baffled."

  "Yeah, well…I have more," I said. "I’ve been looking into our little friend Phillip a little and guess what I found?"

  "I have a feeling I’m not going to like this," he said.

  I pulled out a print of the article and pushed it toward him. Matt looked at it, then back at me.

  "So?"

  "His ex-wife is Michaela Strong," I said. "And there's more. He was there. At the camp on the day Sophie disappeared."

  "Okay, just as you were about to make sense, you go full-blown crazy on me again," Matt said. "What are you suggesting? He was there in the afternoon, yes, to talk about fire safety. His wife had asked him to. He does that all the time. He talks at the school every year too."

  "But he was there on the day she disappeared. He stayed the night too. At the camp."

  "With his wife and daughter, who was also part of the Girl Scout camp," he said. "It's perfectly normal. We were actually very happy he was there, so he could help with the search from the beginning and take charge of the situation. It could have ended in terrible chaos. He and his wife stayed on top of it from the beginning."

  "Okay, but there’s more," I said.

  "Of course, there is," Matt said. He looked at me with a sly smile, like he was enjoying this. I ignored him and slid another piece of paper toward him.

  "Have you been up all night or something?" he asked.

  "Something like that," I said. "Read."

  "What am I looking at here?" he asked. "Can't you just tell me and save some time?"

  "Okay,” I said. "I did a little search on Phillip in the newspaper's database, and this came up. This is a picture of Phillip with the senator's son from last year’s Christmas parade."

  "I can see what it is," Matt said, "but why is it important?"

  "They knew each other," I said.

  "This is Cocoa Beach; everyone knows each other."

  "Okay, but there is one last thing that I found," I said.

  "I can't wait to hear what it is," he said. He was starting to annoy me, but I did my best to ignore him.

  "Maddie Jones," I said.

  "Let me guess, he knew her too?" Matt asked.

  "I called her mother this morning after driving the kids to school because Alex missed the bus again. She went to high school with Phillip up in Daytona. Before she was divorced, they lived not far from one another, and their girls used to play together when they were younger."

  I looked at Matt. He shrugged. "So what?"

  "Don't you see? He's connected to all three children?" I asked.

  "So what? It's Cocoa Beach. We're all connected in one way or another. That doesn’t prove anything."

  "I know it doesn't, but it creates a connection. And that's all I need to get suspicious. The guy fits the profile like a glove. I’m sure if I dig a little deeper, I'll find more, something we can actually use against him."

  Matt leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest with a sigh.

  "What?"

  "Listen, I get it. You want to nail this guy for what he did to Dawn; heck I want him punished for that too, but that doesn’t mean he's our killer."

  I nodded, knowing he was right. I couldn't let myself be blinded by my desire to get justice for Dawn.

  "True," I said. "But it doesn’t mean he didn't do it either. Besides, right now he's our only lead so far, so I say we go with it."

  Matt sighed, then rose to his feet. "I'll get us some coffee."

  Chapter 55

  THEN

  After the court had given their dad full custody, they moved to another part of town. The boy liked it there. His father built a playhouse in the treetop, and the boy spent many afternoons up there in that place that he had all to himself because his sister was busy swinging on the new swing set that their dad had put up for them.

  New Mommy got a big bump on her stomach, and soon they were blessed with another sister, one who cried a lot at night, but otherwise brought much joy to the family.

  As the years passed, the boy almost forgot about his mother, even though he sometimes sat in his tree house and cried about her. But he never told that to anyone. That was his little secret and the treehouse his hideout, where he could think about her and cry if he needed to without anyone seeing it.

  He was angry with his mother for choosing the life she had and for not wanting him like his dad said she didn't. Instead, she had chosen a life of drugs and drinking and being a stripper. Hearing him talk about The Thing and how she lived her life made the boy feel ugly and dirty. His mother didn't even call on birthdays and, by the time the boy was a teenager, he resented his mother and he decided she was dead to him. He decided he might as well pretend like she didn't exist.

  One day, as they were crossing the street and he was holding his sister's hand on their way home from school, there was a sudden yelling of his name. He recognized the voice, and the boy knew very well that it was her.

  He didn't turn and look, but pulled his sister's arm to cross the street, but hesitated for just a second as his mother yelled their names once again. As he paused, the light changed, and he could no longer cross. This meant their mother could catch up to them.

  "Hi, baby; hi, sweetie," she said, panting from running.

  The boy didn't even look at her. He kept his eyes focused on the light and kept himself ready to rush across the street as soon as it changed. He held his sister close.

  "Oh, my God," his mother said, clasping her face with her hands. "You've both grown so much."

  She reached out her hands and felt his face. The boy pulled away, still without looking straight at her.

  "Oh, my babies," his mother said, sobbing loudly now. "I can't believe it. Do you live nearby? I know your dad moved you. Is it close to here? Oh, it's so wonderful…I am so happy to see you both."

  As she spoke, t
he light changed, and the boy pulled his sister's arm forcefully, saying:

  "We're not happy to see you."

  With those words he walked away, pulling his sister hard, still maintaining his posture and not letting even one tear escape the corner of his eyes. He wasn't going to give her the pleasure of seeing that.

  Chapter 56

  Ever since the break-in, Mary hadn't been sleeping well. It had happened three weeks ago but still gave her the chills, especially at night when everything was so quiet. It was on nights like these that she wished Don was still there with her. He had left her when the kids were one and three years old. Right when it got really tough, he had simply left and not looked back. Mary knew she too played her part in him leaving. She didn't fool herself and say she was the innocent one. She hadn't been herself since the birth of their second child. A depression her doctor had later told her it was. Postpartum. But at first, she didn't know what it was. It had knocked her out completely. For months, it was like she walked in a haze like she couldn't cope with anything in life, especially not a young child crying all night. And that was when she started taking it out on Don. He was the one who had worked all day to support them and, as soon as he came home, she couldn't help herself. She had to unload. At first, it was because she wanted him to feel sorry for her, to know that she too had a rough day, that she felt inadequate and guilty for not feeling all oozy and happy at the arrival of a new child. But when he hadn't been understanding the way she wanted him to, when he hadn't said the right things, and instead told her she was lucky that she got to stay at home, that was when she started to resent him. Mostly, she probably resented herself for not enjoying staying at home with the children like her mother had when she was a child. It was all Mary had ever dreamt of when growing up. Like her friends, she didn't dream of some big career. She just simply wanted to be a mother. But once the kids, Rylan and Faith, arrived, it had been nothing like what she wanted, what she thought it would be. Instead of feeling fulfilled, she had felt inadequate. She had this constant feeling of not being enough nagging inside of her, and this voice in her mind telling her she was doing it all wrong, that she was not cut out to be a mother, that she would end up destroying her children.

  The yelling was bad, but it wasn't what drove him away. It was when the yelling stopped. Realizing it did her no good, that nothing in this world could make her feel better, Mary simply gave up. She dragged herself out of bed in the mornings and only did what was most necessary until she could crawl back into bed. Soon, she didn't even leave the bed at all.

  Don begged her to talk to someone, to go to a doctor, but she didn't want to. She couldn't deal with the guilt that would ram her if she explained to someone from the outside that she couldn't even cope with her children, if she had to tell him how she had neglected her own children. She simply couldn't face that conversation.

  So, she stayed in bed, and one day, Don didn't come home from work. He stayed out all night, and after three days, he finally came home…drunk. He told her he couldn't take anymore, that he had taken a job in Louisiana and he and a buddy were going up there the very next day.

  Mary hadn't even asked him to stay. She had barely looked at him, and Don had left crying, slamming the door behind him. The divorce papers came with the mail a few days later when Mary had finally managed to get up and take care of her children. She realized she was all alone down here in Florida since all of her family lived up in North Carolina. It was after a phone call from her mother that she finally got herself to a doctor, who gave her the diagnosis and some medicine. Now she was doing a lot better and so were the kids. She didn't even miss Don, to be honest. Or all the fighting. It was actually better now that she was all alone. Don sent a check every month for them, and they lived decently.

  The break-in had happened a few weeks ago. It wasn't so much the fact that there had been someone in her apartment; that was bad, yes, but the worst part was that it happened in the middle of the night, while Mary and the kids were asleep.

  When they woke up the next day, the window facing the street was open, and there were dirty footprints on the carpet. Luckily, nothing had been taken, and the police told Mary that it was probably just some homeless person looking for shelter, thinking there was no one home, and then when he realized they were there, he had left.

  Mary had believed them but still felt uneasy in her own bedroom. So it was again this evening when she had put the children to bed, and she lay in her bed, waiting for sleep to overpower her. She couldn't help hearing all these sounds, and it kept making her open her eyes and look toward the window. She thought she heard something again, then opened her eyes and thought she saw a shadow walk past her window. The shadow continued on, and she knew it was probably just someone walking on the sidewalk outside of her building, then she closed her eyes again.

  Sleep, come on, wondrous sleep.

  Finally, Mary dozed off, and soon she was snoring lightly. She didn't even hear the window being pulled open from the outside, nor did she hear it when a pair of very dirty shoes landed on her carpet. She did, however, hear her own name being whispered very close to her ear, and she opened her eyes with a gasp, just in time to feel the fingers as they tightened their grip around her neck.

  Chapter 57

  "FIRE!"

  I had barely set foot inside the house before Alex jumped out in front of me, screaming the word. I grabbed my chest.

  "Alex! You scared me!"

  The boy swung his ax in the air, making noises like he was smashing a window, then ran off.

  "Oh, good, you're home," Christine said as I entered the kitchen and put down my computer. She was eating cereal and handed me the empty milk jug. "We're out of milk. Again."

  "Awesome," I said and threw the jug in the recycle bin.

  "And we're out of clean underwear too. All of us."

  I nodded and sat down on a stool next to her by the counter. "I see. And how was your day?"

  She shrugged. "Normal."

  "And school?"

  She shrugged again and looked at her phone. "Usual."

  I nodded, then looked at my watch. I could still make it to Publix before dinner and put in a load of laundry.

  "Dad called today," she said like it was the most natural thing in the world. My eyes grew wide.

  "Excuse me?"

  "He called me. From Greece. Said he was coming home in two days. He wants to see us when he comes back. Can we go up there next weekend?"

  "He wants to see you?" I asked, startled.

  "That's what I just said," she said, annoyed.

  "Well, I just…" I stopped myself. I couldn't really tell her that I had thought he didn't want to see them, but that was silly. I could see that now. Of course, he wanted to see them on weekends and vacations from time to time. He was, after all, their father. They had once been his entire life. What he didn't want anymore was the workload, all the trouble it was to take care of them.

  "So, can we go?"

  "Sure," I said.

  She smiled. "Good. I can't wait to see him and hear about his trip. You think he bought us something?"

  I nodded. "I’m sure he did."

  She smiled again. "He better."

  Christine finished her cereal, then left the kitchen, still playing some game on her phone. I chuckled, then decided to make the trip to Publix when my phone rang. It was from Alex's school. That was never a good sign. I picked it up.

  "Eva Rae Thomas."

  It was Alex's teacher, Miss Melanie. She sounded serious, and I braced myself for what Alex had gotten himself into now.

  "We need to talk," she said. "Can you come in tomorrow? Say, around eleven o'clock?"

  I swallowed and felt my hands go clammy. I knew Alex wasn't easy and wondered what he had been up to now.

  "Sure," I said. "May I ask what this is about?"

  "I prefer we talk about it when you come. See you tomorrow."

  I put the phone down, feeling like I had just been called to the pri
ncipal's office. I sighed, then walked up to Christine and told her to look after her baby brother while I went to Publix. On my way out the door, I texted Olivia and asked her what she was doing, why she hadn't come home from school yet, then received the answer that she had volleyball practice and that I really should know these things by now.

  Chapter 58

  Maddie stared at the letters scratched into the wall.

  Sydney.

  She couldn't stop wondering about this girl and who she was. Where was she now? Had she gone home to her mom? Was she back with her friends, back in school again, and was everything back to normal again? Maddie would give anything for normal right now. She would love to be able to go to school again, even to be faced with Gareth and his bullies. Even they would be better than what she was facing now.

  The person inside the box had grown quiet, and there hadn't been a sound coming from in there all day. She wondered if this person was still in there at all. She had scratched on the outside of the box several times, but there had been no response. It felt devastating to Maddie because she felt like she had just found this person, she had just realized she wasn't alone in this, and yet now she somehow was again.

  I miss my mommy. Why can't I just go home to her?

  Maddie wondered if this was all her own fault. Maybe it was some sort of punishment? But for what? Could it be for breaking her mother's watch and not telling her about it? Could it be for the bad grades she had on her last report card and because she had signed it for her mommy because she didn't come home in time? And maybe because she didn't want her to see it because she'd only get mad at her because she wanted so badly for her to do better in life than she had?

  Or was it because it was all her fault that her dad had left and that her mother had to work as a hooker? That's what Gareth and his friends had told her it was called. A dirty hooker. Did that mean Maddie was dirty too?