By Any Means (34 page)

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Authors: Chris Culver

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Julie nodded and opened the tabbed manila folder she was holding.

“An officer brought her in at approximately six this evening. She's six years old and weighs fifty-three pounds. We don't have her medical records yet, but we ran her through Riley Children's Hospital. The attending physician said she looked healthy and couldn't find any signs of abuse or malnutrition. Lisa said she's not on any medication, but we'll check to make sure.”

Ash nodded. It was nice to hear that she was healthy, but the rest was background information he already knew.

“What do you have on her mom?”

Julie's lips moved as she scanned the form. “My information says she died in a car accident, but IMPD had her house on a regular rotation. She was thirty-two years old at the time of her death, and according to our files, she had a history of mental illness. I have a report from a patrol officer requesting we send somebody by the house to check on things because he suspected Cassandra was manic and posed a threat to her daughter. I don't think we had time to follow up yet.”

Ash narrowed his eyes and dropped his chin. “Are you sure you have the right file?”

Julie nodded.

“Unfortunately, yes. It looks like Lisa's mom hit the trifecta. Drug use, mania, and probable prostitution while her daughter was at school. If we had the manpower, we would have pulled her out of the house months ago.”

Ash straightened and crossed his arms. “How old is this information?”

Julie skimmed the file and then shook her head before looking at him again. “There's no date listed.”

“Something's not right,” said Ash, turning his attention to Lisa again. “Cassandra was a good mother. She wasn't a drug user, and she sure as hell wasn't a prostitute. You might want to double-check to see that you have the right file.” He paused. “Has anyone told Lisa what's going on?”

“Not yet.”

Ash considered his options. Lisa was surrounded by strangers and probably scared out of her mind. It wasn't just unfair; it was cruel. He didn't know what the county's policy was in that situation, but he knew what it felt like to be scared and alone. He looked at Julie.

“Give me five minutes. I'm going to tell her what's going on. I'll be right back.”

“Hold on just a second,” said Julie, putting her hand on his chest. “We have a counselor on staff who will talk to her in the morning. That's how we do things when a parent isn't around.”

“And by
counselor
you mean a stranger, right?”

“By
counselor
I mean someone with the training to deal with a traumatized child.”

“With all due respect, Julie, I've known Lisa for almost half her life. She calls me Uncle Ash and my wife Aunt Hannah. She doesn't need to talk to a stranger with a degree in psychology; she needs someone who will give her a hug and tell her that everything will be okay.”

“And what happens if everything isn't okay? We need to prepare her for what's going to happen next in her life. Besides, we haven't even talked to her father yet. Don't you think he might want to tell his daughter what happened?”

“He's serving a life sentence in the Wabash Valley Correctional Facility for killing an off-duty police officer at a nightclub. After losing his last appeal, your department petitioned for and won termination of his parental rights. I was Lisa's advocate during the hearing. She's never met him, and God willing, she never will. If that's not in your file, it should be.”

“I forgot you were a lawyer,” she said, taking a step back and flipping through the contents of her folder. When she looked up again, her gaze wasn't quite as sharp. As much as he cared about Lisa, though, Julie was probably right. It wasn't his place to tell her that her mom had just died. That should come from a real family member.

“Lisa has a grandma on the West Coast. She flies in whenever she can afford the airfare. If anyone should tell Lisa about her mom, I think it should be her,” said Ash. “They're a close family, so she'll probably be the one who gets custody anyway.”

Julie stared at Lisa through the two-way mirror. “Where on the West Coast is she?”

“Seattle. I'll fly her in if I have to.”

Julie's nostrils flared. “That should be fine. We can let her do it.”

It may not have been what Ash wanted, but it was still a victory of sorts. He breathed a little easier.

“Do you have housing lined up for her for the next few days yet?”

“We'll put her in a girls' home until her grandma arrives.”

“How about you let me take her home?” Julie started to protest immediately, but Ash spoke over her. “Hannah and I are registered foster parents, so we're already in your system. We take kids on an emergency basis, and this sounds like an emergency.”

At first, Ash thought Julie would fight, but she gave in. While she filled out the paperwork, he called his wife to arrange things at home. Hannah didn't even miss a beat in offering to put Lisa up for as long as needed. Ash went into the playroom and told Lisa that she would be staying with Megan for a few days. Since Lisa didn't know about her mom, she thought it was a rare Thursday-night sleepover at a friend's house. It almost broke Ash's heart to see how excited she was. After twenty minutes of paperwork, he buckled her into the back of his cruiser and drove home. Megan met them at the door, and the girls immediately ran to the living room where Hannah had set up a cartoon about a princess and a frog. The girls would probably fall asleep in the middle, but it would keep them occupied until they did. Hannah stayed in the kitchen.

“What happened?”

Hannah had been able to hold back most of her emotion when Megan and Lisa were around, but her eyes were growing red now.

“I don't know yet. I still don't have any confirmation of anything, so I'm going to go back to work and see what else I can find out.”

The girls giggled loud enough that he could hear them all the way from the back door.

“Come back as soon as you can.”

“I will.”

Ash kissed her before stepping out. Rather than drive to his office, he drove to Cassandra and Lisa's house. The windows were dark, and the front door was locked. He knocked hard and rang the doorbell, but as expected, no one answered. He was alone but for the crickets. On his way back to the car, he pulled out his cell phone and found the number for the coroner's office. That's when he got his first break; the morgue didn't have a Cassandra Johnson, but they did have a Jane Doe who matched her description. The victim of a purported hit-and-run, she had significant trauma to her chest, shoulders, and head. It fit the story Bukoholov and Julie Sims had told him.

He drove over. The coroner's office was housed in a two-story brick building south of downtown near the White River. As soon as he went inside, Ash covered his nose. No matter how many deaths he investigated, he could never get used to the smell. Dr. Hector Rodriguez met him in the lobby and gave Ash a moment to throw on a surgical smock before leading him to the refrigerated vault where the bodies were stored.

Ash could see the outline of a petite woman's body beneath a sheet on an exam table at the far end of the room. As soon as Dr. Rodriguez pulled the sheet from her face, Ash recognized Cassandra. The blood had already begun pooling beneath her, leaving her face pale, but it was definitely her. According to Indiana law, only an immediate family member could provide an official visual identification, but Dr. Rodriguez wrote Cassandra's name down anyway as a provisional ID.

Cassandra's mother or sister would have to come in and do the official identification later. On television, that was a relatively easy process. A victim's spouse or immediate family member would stand at a window while a technician pulled back a sheet covering the deceased person's face. On TV, a simple nod of the head sufficed. In real life, it was harder, more invasive than that. Cassandra's mother would have to give details. She'd have to identify tattoos, scars, birthmarks, and other unique marks that Cassandra might have had. She'd have to stick around the morgue for a while and possibly identify her clothing as well as fill out copious amounts of paperwork. It was a lot more than a casual glance, and it caused a lot more pain than anyone deserved.

When he got back to his car, Ash stayed in the parking lot and allowed the reality of the situation to set in. Cassandra and Lisa were as close to his family as they could be without being related. This was going to be hard. Instead of driving home immediately, he put the car in gear and drove until he found an open liquor store. Practical concerns didn't hamper him anymore, so he bought a pint of bourbon and drove to a small city park about a mile from his house. He started with a small sip, but that turned into a mouthful and then a second in short order. After that, he rested the bottle in his lap and closed his eyes, praying that the world would be different when he opened them but knowing it wouldn't.

Ten minutes after parking, he screwed the cap back on the bottle and drove home. The girls were in pajamas now, but they were still up and watching TV. Hannah had her arm around both of them. Ash must have been wearing his emotions because she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as soon as she saw him.

“Hi,
Baba
,” said Megan, looking at him for the first time since he came in. “You look funny.”

“I'm tired, honey,” he said. “It's late.”

“Why don't you girls brush your teeth?” said Hannah. “It's time to get ready for bed.”

Lisa and Megan dutifully slipped off the pullout sofa and made their way to the bathroom in the hallway. Hannah stared at him, her eyes growing glassy.

“She's gone?”

Ash swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.”

She inhaled deeply as a tear slid down her face.

“We're out of toothpaste,
Ummi
.”

Hannah stayed seated for a moment, but she eventually got up to help the girls. Ash took the opportunity to slip into his bedroom's en suite bathroom to brush his teeth and cover the smell of bourbon on his breath. When he finished, Hannah was in the bedroom, crying softly. Ash didn't say anything, but he held her and she cried on his shoulder until the girls went back to the living room.

Hannah went to bed a little after midnight, but Ash stayed up. For some reason, Megan and Lisa both liked professional wrestling and were watching a match with rapt attention when he got back to the living room. Thankfully, they weren't boys or they'd be reenacting everything the wrestlers did; as it was, Ash had his hands full telling them not to repeat the more inappropriate phrases the wrestlers used. He probably should have turned it off, but he didn't have the heart. Lisa had enough rough days ahead of her; she deserved another carefree night with a friend.

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Chris Culver
Cover design by Brigid Pearson. Cover copyright © 2014 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author's intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author's rights.

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First ebook edition: May 2014

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ISBN 978-1-4555-2599-7

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