The Trophy Exchange (22 page)

Read The Trophy Exchange Online

Authors: Diane Fanning

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General


Good morning, Lieutenant,

he said.

Charley, you go on up to your room. The officer here and I need to talk.


But, Dad
. . .”


No buts. Go up to your room, now.

Charley sighed and stomped out of the kitchen, down the hall and up the stairs making as much noise as possible as she ascended the steps.


Tough on her,

Lucinda said.


You know that first-hand, Lieutenant?


Yes,

she said.

He looked at her waiting for elaboration
.
Lucinda felt an urge to tell him about her experience, but remembered he was a suspect and said no more.


Have a seat at the kitchen table. I

ll fix you a cup of coffee but I

m really busy. If you don

t mind, I

ll keep working while we talk.

He slid a mug in front of her.

Cream? Sugar?


Black is fine.

Piles of frames and a stack of newspapers buried a length of the kitchen counter. He wrapped a sheet of newspaper around a frame, sealed it with a strip of masking tape and put it in a box on the floor at his feet.

What can I do for you, Lieutenant?


Are those pictures of your wife?


Yes.


Are you packing them all away?


Yes.


Why is that, Dr Spencer?


As you said, Lieutenant, it

s tough on the girls. They don

t need these memories around. They need to forget.


Forget their mother?


Yes.

Lucinda arched one eyebrow.

He saw the look and said,

You don

t have any children, do you?


No.


So don

t pass judgment on my parenting.

He picked up another frame and wrapped it.

Why are you here?


I

ve got a few questions.


Fine. Ask them.

She pulled out her notepad and flipped the cover.

Where were you on Sunday, March 27, of last year?


You

re kidding, right?


No, Dr Spencer. I am very serious.


That was more than a year and a half ago. You expect me to remember where I was?


Do you have any idea about what you would have been doing that afternoon or have you conveniently forgotten, Dr Spencer?


Conveniently? You

re out of your mind, Lieutenant.


You have no idea what you were doing that Sunday?


If it was a Sunday, I was either here or out doing something with my wife and the girls. Wait. That

s my mother

s birthday. I believe we went over to her house and took her out to dinner.


What about earlier that day?


I don

t know. It was just another Sunday. Why?


Do you recall where you were on Friday, October 7, of last year?


That was a year ago, Lieutenant.

He glared at her.

She stared back.


If it was a Friday, most likely I was at work,

Evan said.


How about Saturday, February 25, of this year?


I think I may have been in Bangladesh.

Lucinda flipped through her notes.

No, Doctor. You returned from Bangladesh the Tuesday before that.


If it was a Saturday, then I suppose I was at home. I doubt I left the house. I

m always beat after one of those trips.


What about Thursday, August 27? Where were you then?


If I was in town, I

m sure I was working.

“Monday
,
September 25
?


Working
,
I guess. Why, Lieutenant? What do these dates mean?


Can you recall your activities on Wednesday,
September 27
?


Th
ese dates are
just a few days ago
?”


So
,
can you be specific,
Dr.
Spencer? Times, places, et cetera.


Certainly, Lieutenant. I got Charley ready for school. I drove Ruby to preschool and went into the office. I saw my first patient at
nine thirty
. At
twelve thirty
, I went to lunch.


Alone?

Lucinda asked.


Yes, alone. I do that often, Lieutenant
.”


Where?


I stopped by Mom

s Deli and got a sandwich and cream soda to go. I walked over to the park on Ressler Street ate my lunch there.


O
kay
. Did anyone in the park see you

anyone who could verify that you were there?


I didn

t talk to anybody in the park. I have no idea if anyone saw me.


And then?


By two, I was back in the office seeing patients.


Then?


I picked up Ruby at preschool, got home at
five minutes past five
, sent Kara home and fixed dinner for the girls.


Who

s Kara?


My babysitter. She stays with Charley weekdays after school and stays with both the girls when I need her on evenings and weekends.


Kara who?


I really don

t want you harassing her. Her husband is already questioning the wisdom of her coming over here in the first place. You bother her
, and I might end up without a
sitter.


I need her last name, Dr Spencer.


Lieutenant, you

ve given me every indication that you care about my daughters. If that

s true, why would you want to risk taking another important woman out of their lives?


You know, when you dodge my questions, you sound like a man who doesn

t want his wife

s killer found. I wonder why that would be?

He slammed the frame in his hand down on the counter. The loud cracking noise of breaking glass surprised them both.

I

m sorry. I can

t deal with this right now. Would you please leave, Lieutenant.


Sure, no problem.

She pushed up out of the chair.

But I will be back, Dr Spencer. You can count on that.

 

 

Twenty-Two

 


Psst! Psst!

On the bottom step of the Spencer porch, Lucinda turned toward the sound. Peering around the corner was
the
small face of Charley Spencer. She motioned with one hand.

Come here. Come here.

Lucinda stepped on the grass and Charley disappeared around the corner. When Lucinda reached the spot where Charley last stood, she spotted the girl again by the lattice
-
framed door beneath the porch.


Come here. Come here,

Charley said and ducked inside.

Lucinda followed her to the doorway. She looked in and saw Charley sitting in the dirt, her legs stretched out in front of her. Charley patted the spot on the ground next to her and said,

Sit here. Right here
,
next to me.


In there again?


Yes, please. I need someone to talk to.

I bet you do, little girl.
Lucinda crawled in and sat down beside her. Charley patted on the back of Lucinda

s hand and sat quietly.


What you want to talk about, Charley?

The small dark
-
brown eyes gazed intently at Lucinda.

Can I touch your face?

For a second, Lucinda was stunned. No one had ever asked her that before.


Oh, I

m sorry,

Charley stammered.

I shouldn

ta
. . .”


No
,
n
o. It

s
okay
, Charley. You surprised me. That

s all. Sure, you can touch my face.

Charley got up on her knees. Her small serious face moved so close that Lucinda could smell her sweet, toothpaste breath. With tiny feathery touches, Charley explored the rippled skin.

Does it hurt?


No, Charley. Not anymore.


Good. It had to hurt real bad when it happened.


It sure did.


Do you have an ugly eyeball?


I don

t have an eyeball on that side at all, Charley.


Can I see?

The lump in Lucinda

s throat grew larger.

Sure, Charley.

Gentle fingers flipped up the patch.

Oh
,
poor baby,

Charley cooed.

Lucinda fought back the tears. Charley must

ve heard that phrase from her mother a hundred times.

Charley sat back down in the dirt and wiggled her hand into Lucinda

s and squeezed. Lucinda squeezed back.


Do you need a friend?

Charley asked.


I could always use a friend, Charley.


I need a friend, too. Can we be friends?


We are friends, Charley. I never let anyone but my doctor touch my face before.


Really?


Really.


I can

t talk to my dad.


Have you tried?


Yeah. But he just tells me I have to forget. I can

t forget. I keep seeing Mommy on the floor.

The mental snapshot of her own mother lying dead on the stairs swam through Lucinda

s mind.

Maybe if you talk about it, it would help.


I wanted to talk to my gramma but she and daddy had a fight and she left.


I

m sorry, Charley.


I didn

t understand what they were talking about but my gramma thought I should talk to you.


She did?


Uh huh.

Charley reached into her pocket and pulled out a dirty folded piece of paper.

Look. But don

t tell my dad,
okay
?


O
kay,
I won

t.

Lucinda unfolded the paper. It was a creased photo of Kathleen Spencer holding an infant.


See. That

s me when I was a baby. If Daddy knew I had it, he

d take it away.


He would?


Yes. Daddy put away all of Mommy

s pictures. I hid this one. Daddy says pictures of my mommy are bad for me. But this one makes me feel good.


Why is that, Charley?


Because when I close my eyes, I always see my mommy on the floor all hurt. I look at this,

she said pointing to the picture,
“a
nd it makes that bad picture go away.

Charley
started to
sob.

Lucinda wrapped an arm around the little girl

s shoulder and pulled her to her side.


Ruby

s too little, I can

t talk to her. All my friends ask questions. They want to know what my mommy looked like when I found her. They get mad when I don

t tell them. They don

t know what it

s like.


I do, Charley,

Lucinda said.

Charley pulled back and looked at her.

You do?


Yes, Charley, I do. I really do.


Your mommy

s dead, too?


Yes, Charley, my mommy died when I was a bit older than you.


Did a bad man kill her?

Lucinda almost said it was her father who did the killing but did not want to lay that burden on Charley yet. She simply said,

Yes.


Did you see her dead?


Yes, Charley, I did.

Charley threw her arms around Lucinda

s neck. Lucinda wrapped her arms around Charley. Charley sobbed. Quiet tears ran down one side of Lucinda

s face. After a couple of minutes, Charley sniffled and pulled back. She placed two fingers on the tracks of Lucinda

s tears.

Did they find the man who hurt her?


Yes, they did.


Did they put him in jail?


No. He was dead, too.


Will you kill the bad man who hurt my mommy?


No, Charley, but I will put him in jail for a long time. I promise you I will.

Charley threw her arms back around Lucinda

s neck and hugged. Lucinda returned the hug. She hoped and prayed, for Charley

s sake, that the bad man wasn

t her father.

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