Broken Lullaby. Pamela Tracy
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piece by piece. Where was Alma? Why hadn’t they found her? According to Eric, the search had been hot, hot, hot and fruitless.
Justin was worried about Alma, too, Eric had told her. He had dropped her son off at his house to meet his cousin Megan and stay with Eric’s mother-in-law until Mary was finished. Mary rubbed her eyes wearily. She hoped that would be soon.
Mitch sat beside Ruth, carefully reading her notes and making hushed, lengthy phone calls. Once, he glanced over at Mary and she felt something electric pass between them again. She shook it off, focusing on the question Rico had just asked her. Rico, who was leaning forward, hands on the table, just like a cop in a movie.
If Rico was uncomfortable interrogating not only a Santellis, but the sister-in-law of one of Gila City’s own, he didn’t show it. All he saw, Mary figured, was the woman who’d let their only lead escape into the desert. Mary wondered if Ruth thought the same.
Rico said stiffly, “Mrs. Graham, do you have a history of violence?”
“One time. I took care of my son. That’s what I did.” Mary fought to control her temper. This officer was dealing with a missing nephew. She understood that. But three years ago, Justin had overdosed and it was all Eddie’s fault. When she’d realized just what Justin had gotten into, what Eddie had in the back of his car, she’d lost it.
“You gave your husband a black eye.”
“We were separated. I didn’t think of him as my husband. And he deserved more than a black eye. He put our son in danger, in the hospital, because of his illegal dealings.”
Ruth, Mitch and Eric sat down in front of Ruth’s desk and began quietly conferring while Mary said, “Eric thinks the judge will waive the warrant, and yes, I know I face a felony. I came back willingly. You have the name of the investigator—”
Eric looked over as if willing to be involved in the conversation. Rico ignored him.
“—assigned to my case. He is aware that I’ve returned to Arizona. I already have an appointment to meet with him next week.” She didn’t provide more details. They didn’t apply to the search for Alma or the missing baby. Mary had plenty of hope on her side. During the last three years she’d been reading up on just what she might be charged with.
Bad: Her husband dealt in drugs, and she knew it.
Good: Eddie didn’t live with them, hadn’t since Justin was two. Yes, they were still married—Mary didn’t believe in divorce—but except for expenses, they shared nothing.
Good: The letter of the law, when it came to the child endangerment charge, had more to do with long-term exposure to places like methamphetamine laboratories. She didn’t even allow drugs in her home; she didn’t allow drugs on the person of anyone entering her home; and she hadn’t known Eddie was so stupid. It wasn’t that Eddie was so stupid as to stash drugs in the backset of his car. No. He had lollipops and baby pacifiers back there, which of course caught Justin’s interest. And, in the search for just the right flavored lollypop, Justin found a single pill, which he thought was candy.
That’s all it took.
A single Ecstasy pill.
A few hours later, Justin wound up in the hospital.
“Ma’am?”
Mary started. It was late; she was tired; the memories were starting to suffocate her.
Officer Santos continued. “The investigator assigned to your case would probably look favorably on the fact that you’ve cooperated with local authorities concerning Alma…what did you say her last name was?”
“I didn’t say because I don’t know.”
Finally, Rico seemed satisfied that he had gotten all he could out of her. He joined Ruth, Eric and Mitch as they analyzed and rehashed the case. Rico’s brothers arrived and joined them, too.
Mary looked at Mitch. He was back to being all business. Cop business. Maybe she’d imagined the earlier smile. He was impressive when working a case. During questioning, Mitch politely let Ruth take the lead, then when she wound down, he’d start up. He asked questions about the babies taken, where they were taken from, their ages, their gender, their ethnicity and who’d been questioned. He took them back to the beginning and, judging by the looks on the Santos boys’ faces, he’d taken them to a beginning they didn’t know enough about.
He was nothing if not thorough, and Mary grudgingly respected him for that. He asked more questions than anyone else. He also brought everyone back to the solid evidence.
As the alpha males postured—Mitch, Eric and the Santos brothers—Ruth put every word in that notebook of hers. Soon it was midnight. Ruth finally shut her notebook, closed down her computer and stood. “Anything else we need, Rico, we can get in the morning. We’ve scheduled the search to begin again at six. The sheriff’s posse is bringing in men and horses. Mary will be staying at my house. I take full responsibility.”
A few minutes later, Mary sat beside Eric in his truck. He looked at her and said, “Not quite the homecoming you expected, huh?”
Her thoughts tumbled as she leaned her head tiredly against the window and yawned. “Not quite the homecoming I expected, little brother. In fact, it’s exactly the kind I was hoping to avoid.”
“I know you feel like things are out of your control, Sis, but I can promise you that God is in control. Giving my life to Him turned my life around, and I know He has a plan for you,” Eric advised.
Mary didn’t respond. She would like to believe that, she really would. It’s just that it didn’t seem like God had been on her side for a very long time now.
Or maybe the problem was that she hadn’t been on His.
Mary woke the next morning when the bright Arizona sun cast an unwelcome beacon into the bedroom. Stretching, she felt a moment’s surprise when her toes hit the twin bed footboard. She was sleeping in Megan’s room at Eric and Ruth’s house, Megan was in her parents’ room and Justin had the couch.
For a brief moment, Mary almost felt safe. She felt good, which made her want to cry. Because almost wasn’t good enough, not for her and certainly not for her son.
She rolled from the bed and stretched before jogging in place. A few toy horses on the floor collapsed from the vibrations—or was it laughter? Mary got down on her hands and knees and righted the horses. Their tangled multicolored manes and crayoned sides proved that they were more than just props; they were loved. Megan must have more than a hundred. If they kept reproducing, her brother would need a bigger house or at least a bigger bedroom.
When they got to Eric’s house last night, she could see the warmth and love in this house. Family pictures lined the walls, two cats arched a welcome just inside the door and a wildly-colored crocheted afghan was thrown over Justin on the couch.
It was nothing like the home they’d grown up in.
Mary loved it.
Once the horses on the floor returned to an upright position, she grabbed her clothes from on top of a white dresser and managed to knock over six of the horses that made a home there. She left them on the floor. At the rate she was going, it would be noon before she could get the corral back in place. On top of everything else, putting on the same clothes as yesterday made her cranky.
Yuck, she’d spent hours in the car in these clothes, explored both a dusty business and a dusty cabin and sat for hours in a police station. Maybe she’d burn the clothes when she finally got back home.
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