Stevens Chevy - Never Knowing

The next morning Ally was singing into her cereal and blowing bubbles in her juice like nothing had happened. She even drew me a picture of some flowers with her crayons and gave me a hug, saying, “I love you, Mommy.” Usually I go over things with her when we’ve had a conflict. After growing up in a house where one parent yelled while the other stayed in the bedroom, I swore I was going to talk things out with my children. But this time I was just happy the bad night had passed.

After I dropped her off at school, I came home to stain the headboard I was still struggling to finish, but I kept waiting for my cell to go off at any minute. Finally I gave up and took a coffee break. I was just pouring a cup when I heard a knock.

Moose rushed barking and snorting to the front door. My stomach jumped into my throat. I walked down the hallway, my body hugging the wall. I grabbed the baseball bat Evan had left behind the door and peeked through the blinds at the side window, but I couldn’t see a vehicle.

I yelled, “Who is it?”

“Damn, woman, you trying out for the Marines?” Billy.

I opened the door and Moose was out like a rocket, a compact mass of wiggling snorts and snuffles. Billy laughed and picked him up.

“Hey, squirt.”

“What’s going on, Billy? Why are you here? Did he kill someone?”

“Not unless you know something we don’t. I was just coming over to see how you were doing after that last call.”

“Come on in. Where’s Sandy?”

“Coordinating with some of the other departments involved in the investigation.”

“And you’re in charge of me?”

He grinned. “Something like that.” He followed me to the kitchen, sniffing the air. “Is that coffee?”

“Can I pour you one?”

“Sit, I’ll get it.”

I collapsed at the kitchen table. Billy tossed his suit jacket over the back of a chair, then made himself at home in my kitchen, getting a mug out of the cupboard, opening the fridge for milk. He stopped and stared.

“What?”

“Your fridge is as bad as mine. Don’t you have anything to eat?”

“Are you raiding my refrigerator?”

“Trying to, but I think I just saw a tumbleweed go by. You need to go shopping ASAP.”

“I’ve had a few things on my mind.”

Billy closed the fridge and started making peanut butter sandwiches. He glanced over his shoulder. “Want one?”

I shook my head, but he took out two more slices of bread.

I said, “What do you mean, as bad as yours? Aren’t you married?”

“No sirree, Bob. I’m divorced. My ex is still back in Halifax.” That explained the East Coast accent I caught in his voice.

He let Moose outside, then sat at the table. He handed me a sandwich as he took a huge bite of his. His eyes rolled back.

“Man, that hits the spot.” He took a swill of his coffee and watched me as I nibbled my sandwich. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks a lot.”

He grinned, then his face turned serious.

“How you holding up? This is some heavy stuff you’ve got going on here.”

“I’m doing all right. But I’m putting in some serious couch time with my psychiatrist. Can I send the RCMP my receipts?” I smiled.

“There are resources you can apply for through the Victims of Crime Act. I’ll get you the forms. But I’m glad you’re talking to someone, Sara. This is a lot to deal with.”

“I just feel like it’s all on me, you know? I want to help, but most of all I just want this all to go away — I want my life back.”

“The sooner we catch him, the sooner that will happen. You did great last night.”

“I don’t know, Billy, I thought maybe I pushed too hard.”

“You backed off at the right time. ‘To a surrounded enemy, you must leave an escape.’”

“Huh?”

“It’s from The Art of War by Sun Tzu.”

I started to laugh. “Isn’t that from that movie with Michael Douglas?”

He shook his head. “ Wall Street . I know, I know, I’m a cop cliché.” He smiled. “Sandy gives me a hard time about it too. In my defense, it’s the most successful book on military strategy ever written.”

“I’m not in the military!”

He laughed. “You don’t have to be. It’s just about strategy and applies to lots of things in life. I don’t go anywhere without a copy. You should check it out. It’ll help you deal with John.”

“It’s just so weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“Talking to him. In that one conversation he asked me more about my work than my real dad ever has.” I caught myself. “I guess he’ s my real dad — I meant my adopted dad.”

Billy set his sandwich down and leaned forward, his eyes intense.

“Most killers don’t seem like killers, Sara. That’s what makes them so dangerous. You have to be careful not to—”

A tap on the sliding glass door sent our bodies jerking back in their seats. I spun around. Melanie was standing at the door with Moose in her arms. She must’ve come through the side gate. Billy was on his feet, his hand hovering near his sidearm.

“It’s my sister.”

His hand dropped. Melanie slid open the door and strolled in.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Her smirk said it all. I knew my face was red, but I shot her an as-if look.

“Melanie, this is Billy. He’s…”

Billy jumped in. “Sara’s going to restore some furniture for me.”

“I see.” She leaned against the counter and reached for the jar of peanut butter. She stuck her finger into the jar and brought it to her mouth. As she licked the peanut butter off, she said, “What’s with the gun, Billy?”

Billy just grinned. “I’m an RCMP officer, so you better be nice to me.”

Melanie’s face said she’d love to be very nice to him.

I said, “We were just wrapping up. I’ll walk you out, Billy. Melanie, grab a cup of coffee.” She nodded, but her eyes were on Billy.

Outside, I said, “Sorry about that, my sister…” I shook my head. “We don’t get along — like at all.”

He grinned and shrugged. “No biggie. Just stick with the cover and it should be fine.” His face turned serious. “When John calls again, remember he doesn’t really care about you, Sara. This is a man who takes what he wants, and he thinks you belong to him.”

Melanie was waiting by the front door. “Evan know you’re hanging out with hot cops?”

“He knows about all my client s. What are you doing here, Melanie?”

“I’m not allowed to come visit my big sister?”

She sauntered into the living room and sprawled on the couch. Moose hurled himself on top of her and licked her face as she scratched his head. Traitor.

“I have to get back to work. What’s up?” I remembered my cell was on the kitchen table. Please don’t let John call .

“Dad wants us to talk before Brandon’s birthday party on Saturday. He said we have to get along. Mom’s not feeling well.” Her chin jutted out at an angry slant. With everything happening I forgot Lauren was having a party for Brandon, and I hated to hear Mom was sick again, but I wasn’t about to share either fact.

I waited her out.

She said, “I never told that Web site your real father’s a serial killer, you know.”

“I didn’t really think you did — I was just upset.”

“Yeah, right.”

I sighed. “I didn’t, Melanie.” Her face was stony and I knew there was no way I could ask if she’d told her boyfriend — she’d take my head off. “Just tell Dad we worked everything out.”

“Sure. If that’s how you want to play it.”

“I’m not playin g.” I wanted her out of the house fast. “I believe you. I do, okay? I’m sorry I overreacted.”