Dry Spell: A Mercy Watts Short by A.W. Hartoin Read Free Book Online Page B

happened?”
    At the mention of my name, the room came alive and they all came forward.  
    “I need Chuck.” I said and the tears welled in my eyes. Janet was buried in that lake. I couldn’t believe she was there. I thought I could scrub my skin for a hundred years and never feel fresh again.
    Greg yelled for someone to find Chuck and handed me tissues. He asked me questions. They buzzed in my ears and I flicked them away. I wanted Chuck. I wanted family and he sort of qualified. Then Chuck was there, kneeling in front of me, and then leading me to the break room. He sat me in a chair and got me a cup of coffee. His long fingers wrapped around the Styrofoam cup. It was a permanent oval when he handed it over. He sat down next to me and began to rub my back in slow circles. I told him and he listened. At the end, he leaned forward and kissed my dirty cheek. For once, there was nothing implied and I was grateful.  
    He said he had to make a call and left. I put my head on the rickety Formica table and I might’ve gone to sleep. I was so relieved to hand Janet off.  
    The smell of Chuck’s cologne mixed with sweat and stale coffee woke me. He put a basin of cloudy water on the table. “I called it in. There’s a crime scene unit on the way. And the local cops are cordoning off the area as we speak.”
    “What in the world did you tell them?”
    “Anonymous tip. Happens all the time.”
    “But they all know.” I gestured to the door.
    “They don’t know anything.”
    I had to think about that, so I went to the bathroom and washed my hands and face. With the blood and dirt gone, I was myself again. The fear went down the drain with dirt. Chuck was right. The guys wouldn’t say anything. If not for me, they’d stay quiet for Dad. I picked out my splinter and went back to the break room. It was filled with cops. They all seemed to know and not know at the same time. No one spoke of why I was there and we lapsed into stories of my dad. Chuck put my hands in the basin. Epsom salts. The warm water eased the pain and the stories of my dad’s exploits became an easier distraction. An hour later, Chuck offered to take me home, but I wanted to stay. What would I do at home anyway? The bathroom was already clean.  
    At one, Chuck got a call. “They recovered a body buried in the lake bed. Looks like a little girl,” he said.  
    The rest of the guys got up and walked out of the room.
    “I guess Janine knew what she was talking about,” I said.
    “Guess so. You alright?”
    “Yeah. How long has she been there?”
    “Probably the whole time. I checked. There was a dry spell in the summer of 1999. After that the lake was full up until this year.”
    “Was everything like Janine said? Pink shirt, bike?”
    “Yeah, she was buried under the bike and wearing the shirt. I’d say it’s definitely Janet Lee Fine, but we’ll have to wait for the coroner to make a positive ID.”
    “Was she molested?”
    “We’ll probably never know for sure.” He looked away from me and rubbed his eyes.
    “But?”
    “But nothing.”
    “It can’t be any worse than the nightmares I’ve already got.”
    “She didn’t have on any pants or underwear.”
    “Oh, God.” I thought I might cry again, but I didn’t. Nothing would change things for Janet. “Will you tell the parents?”  
    “If they want to know. Sometimes they don’t,” said Chuck, looking far away.  
    “Would you want to know?” I asked.  
    “I don’t go there.”  
    “He’s a sick bastard.”
    “Aren’t they all?”
    I took my hands out of the basin and Chuck wrapped them in a soft towel. I didn’t know he could be so gentle.  
    “You know you could’ve looked like a real idiot for sending a unit out to that lake,” I said.  
    “I believed you.”  
    “Why? Isn’t it all about the evidence?”
    Chuck held onto my hands and glanced at the closed door before he answered. “You weren’t that hard to believe. What has your dad told you?”