Authors: J.A. Pitts
Before we left, we went to visit Trisha and her crew in the barracks. Nancy, Gary, and Benny were playing cards, while Trisha read stories to Frick and Frack. They were getting bigger and filling out. Soon they’d be the size of two-year-olds. But they loved Trisha, and they loved stories. We hung out, listening to a second reading of
Goodnight Moon
before she could get them into their cribs.
“Gotta do everything twice,” she said, leading us to the end of the barracks where the card game was going on. “They’ll sleep through the noise, but if we’re too close, they think they can whine and we’ll come running.”
We watched the four of them playing euchre and chatted about how things were going out at Chumstick.
“Boring,” Benny said.
“Useless,” Gary added.
“Critical,” Nancy said, giving the other two evil looks. “Boring is good. No action is good. Total surrender is fine, as long as nothing happens you regret.”
“Yeah, like I said,” Benny mouthed around a long pretzel stick. “Total yawn fest.”
“It’s something to do,” Trisha said. “And we’re good at our jobs.”
The others grunted their assent.
“I wish I had these folks at my back when the giants hit our line back in May,” Trisha said, then went quiet, not looking at anything but the emptiness in her memory.
“We held our own,” Gary said. “I helped defend the wounded.”
“I recall,” I said, smiling at him. “You saved lives that night.”
“I was finishing grad school,” Benny said, shrugging. “Sorry I missed it, but glad at the same time, you know?”
“I hear you’ve been seeing someone,” Katie said, all innocent.
Nancy looked worried for a minute, like a trust had been betrayed, but Benny chuckled.
“I’ve been out,” Trisha said, blushing. “He’s like no one I’ve ever dated.”
“Sex ain’t bad, either,” Gary added. “Am I right?”
Trisha didn’t answer, but the smug look on her face was enough for me.
“Good for you,” I said, patting her on the arm. “Must be hard getting out with the twins.”
“Not too bad,” she said. “The crew takes turns babysitting, and we’re flexible on when we go out. Sometimes it’s not until after we get done out at Chumstick.”
“Morning nookie,” Benny said, smirking.
Nancy hit him. “Mind your manners,” she said. “None of your business.”
“It’s okay,” Trisha said, smiling. “He’s just jealous.”
They laughed in a way that spoke of trust and camaraderie. It was good to see.
“We should go,” I said. “I need to get this girl to bed.”
Benny started to say something, but Nancy kicked him under the table.
Trisha walked us out. We paused by the cribs and kissed the twins good night. This place felt safe. Felt like home. We left them to their banter.
“Good folks,” Katie said as we climbed into her Miata. “Glad they’re on our side.”
“Got that right,” I agreed. “I’m just glad to see Trisha getting out, seeing someone. After her wounds, I was worried she’d freeze up, hide herself away.”
“We’re all pretty lucky,” she said, leaning over to kiss me. “Put on some music; I feel like driving fast.”
Fifty
W
e were approaching
B
ellevue when my cell phone rang. It was the Kirkland Police Department. It seemed a young Asian child was spotted walking around down by Juanita Beach. When the girl was picked up, the officers learned the child couldn’t speak as her tongue had been cut out.
What the hell
? “We’ll be right there,” I told the dispatch officer.
“What is it?” Katie asked when I’d hung up. “Someone in trouble?”
“It’s Jai Li,” I said, disbelieving. “That mute girl I told you about. She’s at the Kirkland Police Department.”
“Why’d they call you?”
I thought back to my visits to the house, how Jai Li had followed me around. How the hell had she gotten to Kirkland? “Not sure. Guess we’ll find out.”
She concentrated on the roads, and cut across two lanes of traffic to get us into the turnoff for downtown Kirkland. “Why is she in Kirkland?”
I was stumped. As far as I knew, she’d never set foot out of that house in her life. “Guess we’ll find out shortly.”
We whipped around a couple of corners more quickly than I was comfortable with, but the car handled it like a champ. Within a few minutes we had parked the car and were running into the police station.
No matter the urgency, we managed to be stymied by the bureaucracy. Ended up, we waited in the visitors lounge for almost twenty minutes before a stoic-looking policewoman came out to greet us. “Ms. Beauhall. I’m Officer Simpson. We met a few months back.”
How could I forget? She’s the one Melanie called to report my rape that never really happened.
“What’s this all about?” I asked. “How’d you know to call me?”
Officer Simpson handed me a stack of papers. They were hand-drawn pictures of me. Seven of them altogether. Different aspects of me working on the gate, studying in the library, speaking with a shadowy figure that had to be Nidhogg. These weren’t mere sketches, however. These were lifelike portraits. It was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen.
“I recognized you from when we spoke in the spring. I tracked down my notes and checked your contact information.”
“Wow,” Katie said when I handed her the pictures.
“Can I see her?” I asked.
Officer Simpson had a soft spot. I could see it. “She can’t leave, not until we establish custody,” she said. “But you can visit her. She’s back in interrogation room two. It’s private and quiet. She was pretty upset until we gave her the crayons and paper. Then she’s done nothing but draw pictures of you and point at them and then the phone. It was pretty clear what she wanted. She understands English well enough.”
Dread filled my stomach as we followed Officer Simpson down the long hallway. What the hell had happened? How’d she get out?
Before they opened the door, they let us watch her a moment. She sat on a metal chair with her legs tucked under so she could reach the table in front of her.
“We offered her soda, but she refused,” Officer Simpson said. “She took water though. First kid I ever met that turned down soda.” She smiled at me. “Bright kid. Hangs on every word, picks up more from adult conversations than I’m used to as well. What is she? Four? Five?”
“Six,” I said. “She’s small for her age.”
“We need to call someone,” she said, quietly. “Either we get her back to her parents—”
I shook my head.
“—Guardians then. Or we have to call Child Protective Services.”
“I can make a call,” I said. “But I want to see her first, see if I can see why she was wandering around in Kirkland.”
“Yes,” Simpson said. “We’d like to know that as well.”
There were pictures covering the table and most of the floor between her and the two-way mirror. Made me think of Skella and Gletts and how they’d watched us in secret.
“I need to go in there,” I said. Katie took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “She needs me.”
Officer Simpson nodded.
I opened the door and stepped in. Apparently other folks had come and gone, because she didn’t even look up, just kept frantically drawing. As I stood there, she shoved aside a stunning picture of me holding a hammer and snatched another piece of paper from a stack on the table.
“Jai Li?” I said.
She looked up, surprised, and a smile exploded across her face. She pushed the chair away from the table and scrambled to me. I knelt, and she threw herself into my arms, sobbing. I sat on the floor and rocked her while she cried. Katie watched us with the strangest look on her face.
When she’d cried herself out, we coaxed Jai Li back to the table. Katie offered to color with her while I talked with the officer. At first she was hesitant, but when I explained that I loved Katie, she got a grin on her face and bent to it, drawing like a fiend.
I made a few phone calls, first to Nidhogg’s place, where I got Zi Xiu. She practically begged me to keep the girl, said that Nidhogg was furious at her absence and that she was afraid for Jai Li’s safety if she returned.
Next I called one of Nidhogg’s cadre of lawyers. Zi Xiu had given me the number. She said that there were times when Qindra had needed a lawyer to make things work properly.
I was not fond of lawyers in general. Anyone who thought themselves that important worried me.
In this case I was not disappointed. The woman who got on the phone asked me exactly three questions and hung up, not even waiting for me to ask anything.
“Is anyone dead?
“Do you need bail?
“Where are you?”
I stared at the phone as the dial tone blared out at me. “They don’t mince words,” I told Katie when I walked back in. “There’s a lawyer on the way. Everything should be okay.”
Jai Li sat in my lap as she and Katie drew. I asked quiet questions, which she ignored, so I stopped. I watched the pictures, fantasies now, rainbows and ponies, kittens and a cow jumping over a moon.
“You are very talented,” Katie said, looking at her own sketch of a dog. “Very, very talented.”
Jai Li smiled and took another sheet of paper. She studied the white page for several minutes, then looked up at me. She set her mouth like she’d made a tough decision. She tapped me on the chin, pointed to the paper, and began to draw.
First she drew a picture of her watching me study. Then she drew Nidhogg watching in the shadows, red lines coming off her head.
“Angry?” I asked. She nodded.
Then she showed a delivery truck arriving to drop off supplies for the house. She drew boxes of vegetables, meat, wheels of cheese, and sacks of rice.
Next, she drew three quick pictures of a little girl hiding, then climbing into the back of the truck, then snuggling down in a pile of burlap bags.
“You?” I asked, knowing the answer. She smiled and nodded. This was a game to her, and she was delighted.
She drew a picture of the truck stopping at a restaurant in Kirkland and her climbing out of the back and running toward the lake.
“You are very clever.”
She smiled, but took another sheet of paper. I was shocked by the speed at which she drew and the clarity of her pictures. It was like Katie singing, only with lines on a page.
The next one was Nidhogg sitting in her chair, head bowed and weeping. She very specifically set this picture to her right, in front of Katie.
“Is Nidhogg getting worse?” I asked.
She nodded once and took another sheet of paper.
She drew another girl, like her, only sleeping.
“Is this you, honey?” Katie asked.
Jai Li looked at me, expectantly.
“No,” I said. “It’s her twin, Mei Hau.” I looked around, hoping no one was listening. “She’s gone.”
Jai Li nodded, her eyes swimming with tears.
“And now Qindra is gone,” I said, understanding.
Jai Li lowered her head, wiping the tears with the back of her hand.
Katie looked up at me, bewildered. “She loves Qindra?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
I stroked Jai Li’s hair. “She’s always been kind to the children, even when things were bad.”
Jai Li bobbed her head, peeling the paper off a yellow crayon. She was so tiny, so vulnerable it made my heart hurt.
“Did you run away to find me?” I asked.
Jai Li looked embarrassed, but slowly nodded yes, then shook her head no. She took another sheet of paper and drew a picture of herself, only larger than she was, big like me, with a hammer in her hand, breaking the bonds that kept Qindra trapped.
“That’s pretty clear,” I said, looking from her to Katie. “She was going to rescue Qindra.”
Jai Li shook her head vigorously, tapping the paper in front of her.
“You are very brave,” I said, giving her a squeeze.
Talk about a kick in the gut. This little girl had escaped the only place she’d ever known and left a mistress that had literally eaten her twin, all to rescue a woman she loved like a mother.
I felt about the size of a pill bug. I needed to get off the dime and find a way to bring Qindra home. This little girl deserved nothing less.
Fifty-one
T
he lawyer arrived, a woman of middle years, severe and professional. I debated whether or not she had a personality under that no-nonsense exterior.
She demanded a private meeting with me, away from two-way mirrors and eavesdropping. Officer Simpson didn’t like her tone, that much was pretty obvious, but she let us use a different room to talk.
Katie stayed with Jai Li, who was cool with it once I explained I’d be right back.
The lawyer, Anne Rokhlin, sat across from me with a legal pad and several pens. She looked me up and down, made a face that spoke of disappointment and judgment.