Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Of course. I appreciate it, whatever it is.”
“Well, the other day there was a young man on the Merricks’ old porch. I saw him peering in the windows and then glancing back over his shoulder. Sort of suspicious. I figured he was looking for the Merricks, but he was acting odd, and so I watched him, and he went around the house and looked in a few side windows. I finally did go outside, and when I called out to him, he turned in the other direction and walked away. It was like he was purposely avoiding me. I didn’t call the police. He didn’t commit a crime, but it was just strange.”
“Can you describe this man?”
“Tall, dark hair, he kept his face turned from me, mostly, but there was something familiar about him. I just couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe someone who had visited the Merricks before. I’m sure that was it; it’s just that he was acting cagey.”
Josie glanced around the pretty house as Zach asked a few more questions. She loved these older homes that had been updated but still retained their vintage charm. She’d glanced at what she knew was the Merricks’ old family home as they’d approached Mrs. Parsons’s door, and a small frisson of guilt had trembled in her stomach. That house was where Professor Merrick’s wife and daughters had sat eating dinner or watching TV as she’d had sex with their husband and father. Regret still shook her. But now she knew just how many women he’d slept with over the years. Had he once thought of his wife and girls as he’d recited Wordsworth to yet another gullible coed?
There was a photo gallery of the Parsons family hanging on the wall next to Josie and her eyes moved over it, taking in the happy smiles. Dawn Parsons and her husband had obviously adopted. They stood with two beautiful young black women in what looked like the most recent photo. There were other pictures of the family as a group and the two girls from babyhood to present. One photo in particular snagged her gaze, and she frowned, standing so she could see it better. Josie stared at the photo, her blood turning to ice in her veins. “Who is this?” she asked hoarsely.
Both Mrs. Parsons and Zach stopped speaking and walked to where she stood looking at a photo of five children sitting at a picnic table in a backyard, plates of food in front of them. Josie’s eyes moved slowly from Dawn’s two daughters, to the Merrick girls, and to the beautiful little boy—older than all four girls—sitting at the end, a large smile on his face, a slice of watermelon in his hands.
“Oh, that’s Charlie.”
“Charlie?” Josie asked. She felt slightly out of her body.
“Yes. Many years ago, Vaughn and Alicia fostered a little boy named Charlie.” She seemed lost in thought for a moment. “Sorry. I have to admit; I pushed the idea. My husband and I had a wonderful experience with the foster-to-adopt program. Our girls completed our family. I sang its praises. They took in a boy, oh, he was about ten or eleven at the time, I suppose. Their…well, he wasn’t a great fit for their family, and they weren’t able to keep him.”
Josie’s heart had started beating triple time.
“Do you know Charlie’s last name?” Zach asked.
Dawn wrinkled her forehead in thought. “No. You’d have to ask Alicia.”
“What about another picture?” Josie asked, her voice thin, reedy.
Dawn cast her eyes away in thought for a moment before she turned abruptly. “Hmm…let me see.” She went to a bookshelf and pulled a photo album down, leafing through it for a moment.
“Mom?” They turned as one of Dawn’s daughters stopped in the open doorway. “Did I hear you say Charlie’s name?”
“Yes, honey. Ah, this is my daughter, Nia,” she said, glancing at Zach and Josie. “Nia’s a junior studying graphic design at the Art Academy.” She turned back to Nia. “Why do you ask about Charlie?”
Nia looked from her mother to Zach and Josie. “I saw him a few years ago. I don’t think I ever mentioned it. You were out of town, and I just forgot. He recognized me and said hello. I don’t think I would have recognized him otherwise. I was so young when he lived next door.” She shrugged. “Anyway, he said he was doing great. He asked after the Merricks, and I told him about the woman who’d been yelling on their lawn about Mr. Merrick and gotten arrested by the police.” Her eyes skittered away, and she seemed momentarily embarrassed. “I probably shouldn’t have. It was gossipy. But he just laughed, said, ‘same old Vaughn.’ I don’t know if it’s important or not, but I know you’re trying to solve those cases, and I heard you mention his name, and that memory came to me.”