Transience (18 page)

He hurried past, not allowing her time to ask if he was okay.

A few moments later, Harrington entered Jack's office.
 
"Jack?"
 
He scanned the empty room, gradually making his way over to where Jack hid his pills.
 
A glance over his shoulder, then he moved the book.
 
But the pills were gone.
 

Harrington turned to leave when he noticed the old tape player on the desk, half buried beneath a mess of paper.
 
Jack had scribbled some notes on a pad next to it.
 

The Fruits of Our Labors.
 
Find Jesus on the Hill.
 
Church Bells,
 
diary, dresser.
 
Rebecca, Carmen, Santa Maria - Madre de Dios.

Harrington pressed play, Leonard's voice audible:
 

"I find the evidence before me incontrovertible.
 
More and more my conclusions not only seem plausible, they seem the only logical explanation.
 
There are so many levels of human consciousness that have yet to be explored.
 
The same must be true of the different levels of existence, quantum theories, allowance for the human soul.
 
My belief system has been challenged on every level, but I find my conclusions becoming more and more supportive for accommodating the theory of transmigration of the soul from one incarnation to the next.
 
Perhaps even time is not how we perceive it.
 
Perhaps we are the observer, and our bodies the vessel.
 
Is it any more delusional than the concept of sending files wirelessly through the air from one electronic device to another would be to a man in 1850?
 
We accept that we can transmit documents and information invisibly through space, why then not our essence too?
 
Because we are organic?
 
I think Rebecca might represent the greatest advancement to human evolution.
 
Spiritual evolution-"

Harrington stopped the tape, a queer look on his face.
 
He checked over his shoulder a second time, then sat down and pressed play again.

CHAPTER 33

Laura stood at the back door, watching Rebecca on the same old rusty swing set she used to play on as a little girl.
 
Its antique frame ached loudly with each movement.
 
Jack stood behind her in the kitchen, small pad and pencil in hand.
 

"He actually said that?" Laura asked.

"He's convinced himself."
 

"That's why he wouldn't leave us alone.
 
He needs his own head examined."

"I've known Leonard a long time; he's always been a very rational person."

"He had no right discussing my daughter's condition with you."

"He confided in me because he trusts me.
 
He knew I would keep things confidential.
 
He knew about my case and made the connection.
 
He was right."

"But he never ok'd it with me."

"He didn't tell me the whole truth either.
 
Pieced most of it together myself.
 
I had to back him into a corner before he spilled his guts."

"And what do you think?"
 

Jack took a moment.
 
It was the first time she'd seen him under bright fluorescent lighting.
 
She noticed how gaunt and pale he looked, how brittle.
 
"…I don't know.
 
What I do know is whoever murdered Carmen went to great lengths to make sure she was never found.
 
Without Rebecca, she wouldn't have been.
 
She gave precise details about where the body would be discovered, how Carmen was murdered."

"That's why he involved you?
 
To prove it?" Laura said.

"Yes.
 
But he also knew based on my current investigation that whoever killed Carmen was probably still at large.
 
The information was mutually beneficial."

"You believe it too," Laura said disappointedly.

"I believe the same person that killed Carmen took Angelina Rosa, yes.
 
Based on the killer's M.O., I think there's a remote chance she could still be alive.
 
But there's no time.
 
I need you to tell me everything."

"That's not what I meant."
   

Jack took a few steps towards her.
 
"Laura, I saw a picture… of you and Carmen.
 
You knew her, you were friends.
 
So either there is something to all of this… or you're not telling me the whole truth."

Jack's sort-of accusation brought about an awkward silence.
 
Laura turned away and looked out at Rebecca again, snapping the cohesion of their conversation.
 
Rebecca had stopped swinging, her legs dangling listlessly.
 
Laura sat down at the kitchen table and sighed.
 

Jack took her place at the door, watching Rebecca.
 
Rebecca looked up at that very moment, staring back at him as if some psychic connection existed between them.
 
Her dark, sunken eyes seemed to beg pleadingly:
help me, because no one else will
.
 
In that instant there was a unique bonding between the two.
 

"We were best friends in high school," Laura said finally.
 
Her words activated Jack's hands, he quickly jotted them down on his notepad.
 
"I left home when I got pregnant.
 
Never graduated.
 
I remember, I got the news about Carmen while I was in the hospital.
 
Her mother called, said Carmen had run away, asked if I knew where she might have gone since we were thick as thieves.
 
But after I moved away, I'd lost touch with Carmen.
 
She was very religious, she was upset with me because —
you know
…"
 

Jack noticed a small framed picture of Laura and Rebecca in autumn, Rebecca dumping leaves on her mother, both smiling.
 
"Have you ever spoken to Rebecca about Carmen?"

"No."

"Maybe she overheard something.
 
Kids can have incredible imaginations.
 
Especially bright ones like her."

"Never."
 

"You say this all started when you moved back to Monroe?”
 
Laura reached for her cigarettes, then remembered Jack's cough.
 
He had been suffering another spell while standing outside her front door.
 
He'd waited for it to pass before ringing the bell.
 
She pretended not to know he'd been standing there.
 
He was clearly very ill, making a poor attempt to hide it.
 
She placed the cigarettes back, she could wait. If things got too heavy she could use them to chase him out
.

"At first, Rebecca seemed to be handling the divorce okay.
 
I thought this place could be a new start for her.
 
For us."
 
Jack was staring at her expectantly.
 
Laura brushed her bangs from her eyes and continued, "This was my father's place.
 
Promised myself I'd never set foot in here again."

Laura rubbed her forehead, she felt a migraine coming on.
 
The door opened, Rebecca walked in.
 
Jack took note of her sullen, exhausted face, even the muscles in her jaw looked tired and limp.
 

"Hello," she said to Jack.
 

"Hi, Rebecca."

Rebecca turned to her mother.
 
"Can I have some ice cream?"

"Later."
 
Laura motioned with her head for Rebecca to leave the room, this was adult time.
 
Rebecca took another look at Jack, then gave her mother a devilish smirk.
 
Laura knew what that look insinuated, and hoped that Jack didn't put two and two together.
 
The conversation was already awkward enough.

Rebecca trod upstairs, stomping loudly in protest.
 
Laura listened to the footsteps.
 
She knew if she didn't hear the bedroom door click that meant Rebecca would be at the top of the staircase, eavesdropping.
 

But the door clicked, satisfying her.
 
She didn't bother to check, so she wasn't aware that Rebecca had actually perched herself along the railing, straining to hear.
 

"Have you ever observed any behavior like the kind Leonard described?" Jack asked.
 
Laura tilted her head, thinking.
 

"The other day we took a different road to school.
 
We passed by a small church.
 
Becca asked what had happened to the statue.
 
The one where children would pose for photos after first communions.
 
She was so insistent."

Jack sat down across from her.
 
"I didn't think much of it at the time, but later it occurred to me — it was Carmen's church we passed.
 
Rebecca had such a frightening look on her face, like she was someone else for a moment.
 
But that doesn't prove anything."

"Maybe your coming back here is what set Rebecca off, triggered a memory?"

"Rebecca has nightmares.
 
She's upset."

"Yes, but-"

"Look, there's nothing you can say to make me believe she witnessed Carmen's murder.
 
Or was Carmen.
 
Or whatever that lunatic told you."

"Then how do you explain what happened at the hospital?"
 

Laura's eyes opened wide.
 
"You
do
believe it."
 

Jack leaned back.
 
He placed his notepad and pencil on the table.
 
"My job gives me plenty of reasons to assume life has no meaning.
 
So I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intrigued."
 
Laura shook her head defiantly.
 
"Laura,
you
called
me
, remember?"

Laura bit her bottom lip.
 
She wanted so desperately to unload everything on someone.
 
It had been so long since she'd had a normal, adult conversation.
 
She'd experienced enough negativity in human beings to be able to recognize when someone was genuine.
 
And something about Jack felt real and true.
 
She couldn't ever remember a time when her ex-husband sat across from her and truly listened.
 
Had they shared even one night of coherent discussion, they might still be together.
 

"Why'd you call me?" Jack asked.

"Last night, I went in to check on her.
 
She looked at me as if I was a stranger.
 
My own daughter.
 
I got scared."

"I think whatever power granted Rebecca this window into the past did it for a reason."

"It has to stop.
 
I can't go on like this."
 
Laura
 
hung her head.
 
Jack studied her, trying to envision what Laura was like during happier times.
 
He felt for her.

"Maybe there's a way we can help each other."

"How?"

"The type of criminal I'm hunting often has a pattern to the way he operates.
 
Comfort zones, familiar places, the type of victim he chooses.
 
Every other girl was unceremoniously dumped in plain view.
 
But Carmen was different.
 
He buried her body.
 
He was more careful.
 
I think he knew her.
 
Maybe she was his first.
 
Like I said, without Rebecca we'd have never-"

"If you think I'm going to let that doctor-"

"No.
 
No, I just want you to take a ride with me.
 
I want to bring her somewhere, see if something happens.
 
Maybe jar more memories like the church."

"What good will that do?
 
She doesn't understand what's happening to her.
 
How can she help you?"

"All I know is I've made more progress with this case in the three days since I've met her than I have in the last three months.
 
Maybe she knows more than she realizes, it just needs something to…stimulate it to the surface."

"She's been through so much already."
 

"Maybe facing this problem is what she needs."
 
Laura rubbed her eyes, then clasped her hands around her nose and mouth, resting her elbows on the table.

"Think it could help?"
 

"I think there's a voice inside her crying out.
 
She's suffering.
 
If she can help solve this case, if her ordeal can help save another life, it will all mean something.
 
Maybe we can right a few wrongs."

She looked Jack straight in the eye.
 
"I just want my daughter back.
 
She's all I have left, I don't want to lose her too."
 

"Then you'll bring her?"

Laura drew a deep breath.
 
She looked up towards the staircase behind her, then back at Jack with uncertainty.
 
"I don't know.
 
I'll think about it."

Just then a loud crash jolted them upright.
 
Laura leapt from her chair and ran out of the kitchen.
 
Jack followed.