Stevan Mena - Transience

“I hope so.”

The priest stared at Jack as if sizing up his ability to make good on it. He nodded, as if to say, I believe you will. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Jack tucked his pad and pencil away inside his front coat pocket and shook his head. “Thank you for your time.”

As Jack walked towards the exit he noticed a white statue of St. Mary on a pedestal. He hadn’t noticed it on his way in. He turned to the priest. “Actually, there is one more thing. The statue outside, where is it?”

The priest stared at Jack blankly. “Statue?”

“By the side entrance, near the street?”

The priest scratched his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

Jack waited a moment, then shrugged his shoulders. “My mistake.” Jack moved to the door.

“Detective,” the Priest called out, “there was a statue — The Sacred Heart. Some vandals defaced it, we had to take it down. But that was years ago.”

Jack was silent. He opened his mouth to say thank you when a sudden cough burst from his lungs, nearly doubling him over. It caught him by surprise; he quickly fished for his handkerchief. He found it — covered his mouth — and just let it out. Five long, wet hacks that echoed through the rafters of the church’s high ceilings.

The priest took a few steps towards him, but Jack waved him off, signaling that it would pass. It finally did. Jack straightened up, inhaling slowly, making sure it was safe to breathe again. He wiped his mouth with the handkerchief and opened the door. “Sorry, excuse me.”

“Detective,” the priest called out, “have you found Jesus?”

Jack paused, “I’m still looking.”

Jack exited the building and turned his phone back on. There was a text waiting for him. It was from Laura, just two words:

We’re ready.

“Does your car have a siren?” Rebecca asked. Jack looked at Laura, sitting in the passenger seat, then into his rearview mirror at Rebecca in back. She was sitting slouched over, her elbow on the door, chin resting on her fist. She seemed disinterested, maybe just making conversation. But Jack played along.

“It’s not that type of police car. But I have this—” Jack flipped a switch and his blue spinning lamp came to life. It got a tiny smile from Rebecca. He turned it back off and returned his focus to driving.

“Rebecca, the dreams you keep having… about the girl. What can you tell me about them?” Jack didn’t want to sound like another doctor, probing. He wanted to sound like a friend — which he was, his tone very conversational.

Rebecca glanced in her mother’s direction.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Laura said.

“It’s like I’m dreaming, but when it’s over, the feelings — they’re so real.”

“How do they make you feel?”

“Sad. Afraid.”

Jack turned a corner and headed into an urban neighborhood. The streets seemed to narrow, houses got smaller, closer together. Laura looked around, familiar with the area.

“The man in your dreams, does he have a name?” Rebecca’s shoulders tensed as she drew inward. “If you saw his face would you recognize him?”

Jack could feel Laura’s eyeballs on him. He turned his attention back to the road, withdrawing the question.

“They’re just dreams. They’re not real,” Rebecca said. Jack knew it wasn’t her talking, she was repeating something her mother had said — probably repeated — over and over, hoping to make it true.

Jack checked his mirror and was surprised to find Rebecca staring back at him, as if to say you’re right, I don’t agree with what she says. They are real. Maybe you’ll believe me. More and more, Jack felt a bond growing between him and Rebecca — kindred spirits.

“Where are we going?” Rebecca asked. Jack looked at Laura . You didn’t tell her?

“Rebecca, how would you like to be my deputy for the day?” Rebecca sat up with a smile, as if he’d said how would you like some ice cream.

“Okay. How?”

Laura was interested in his answer too.

“We’re going to stop at a few places, and I want you to tell me anything that comes into your mind.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, anything. Doesn’t matter.”

“Doctor Hellerman asked me to do that too. Said some words, then asked me to tell him the first thing that came into my mind.”

Jack nodded. He stopped at a red light adjacent to a park. It had swing sets, benches, a basketball court. There were a lot of tough looking teens hanging out.

“I know this area,” Laura said, “we used to come here a lot after school.” Some of the teens started cursing, pushing and shoving each other. Fists started flying. “Not much has changed.”

Jack drove another half mile and pulled into a parking lot adjacent to the railroad station and a motel. Laura looked back at Rebecca. A folder on Jack’s back seat was spilling its contents — several 8x10 gruesome crime scene photographs had slid out onto the seat. Rebecca was peeking through them.

“Oh dear God,” Laura said with a gasp. Jack spun around.

“Sorry.” Jack swiped the folder off the seat and shoved it back into his briefcase, snapping it tight. Laura opened her car door angrily and got out, slamming it. She opened Rebecca’s door and collected her. Jack hung his head, feeling awful.

He got out and caught up to them, Laura had opted to walk a good 20 feet from the car, not knowing which direction they were headed, she just needed to put space between them at that moment.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—” Jack said.

“Let’s just get on with it,” Laura said, not angry with him, just shaken by what she had seen. Jack motioned for them to follow him.

“This was one of the last places Angelina was seen,” Jack said, as he led them towards the motel. Laura held Rebecca’s hand tightly. “Angelina answered an ad for a job at this motel. I’ve already interviewed the owner and his employees, they claim they never spoke to her. So there’s a possibility this was just a pre-arranged meeting place for something else.”

“Why bring Rebecca here?” Laura asked Jack discreetly.

“I thought maybe… if there’s some kind of connection.”

“What do you mean?”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, really. Maybe both victims might have disappeared the same way, you know? Maybe there’s a common link, perhaps this spot. It’s the kind of place where a lot of people come and go without questions asked. A lot of drug dealing, prostitution.”

“Carmen? Not on your life.”

“Maybe she was lured here somehow. Look, all of this is a shot in the dark.” Jack knew he sounded like he was grasping at straws, and he was. He had no idea where to begin, he was just after something that might trigger a reaction from Rebecca. Something like he’d heard on the tapes. Rebecca looked bored and tired, dragging her heels.

“Is this where I’m supposed to tell you what I’m thinking?”

“Yes.”

Rebecca put her hands on her hips, as if concentrating real hard. “Okay.” Her innocence lightened the mood.

They entered the motel. All three stood at the entrance. It was dark inside, a thin ream of smoke escaped from behind the counter. A man poked his head out, he recognized Jack and frowned.

“Anything?” Jack asked Rebecca. She looked around, a bit confused as to what she was supposed to be doing.

“No,” she said, disappointed.

This was a stupid idea. Jack panicked, not wanting Laura to think this was the best he had and pull the plug. He didn’t drag her out here just for this. He needed a better idea, fast. “Okay, come on,” Jack hurried them out.