Richard Hale - Frozen Past

“What do you think we should do?” John asked. “Do you think it’s time to tell someone what we know?”

Ellie was nodding her head, but Luke was still not so sure. “I don’t think so,” he said. “He’s left us alone this long because we’ve been quiet. I think we should keep it to ourselves.”

“What about the other kids? Maybe we should tell them to watch out,” Ellie said.

“Like who?” Luke said. “I don’t trust any of them to keep it quiet.”

“But we said we would warn them if it got bad,” Ellie said.

“It’s not bad yet.”

“I think five dead animals buried in my backyard’s pretty bad.”

Luke saw her face flush and he could tell she was getting angry. They had never had a fight and he didn’t like where this talk was leading. Still, he didn’t want to endanger her life by breaking their silence.

“It’s just animals. He hasn’t killed anybody else yet.” He knew as soon as he said it he had stepped over the line.

“But that doesn’t mean he won’t!” Ellie shouted. “What if someone else dies and we could have stopped it? I can’t live with that. Can you?”

“El, don’t get mad at me. I don’t like it either, but if we start talking, he may come after you and I can’t let that happen.”

“That’s not up to you to decide!” she yelled. “I won’t let him hurt anybody else.”

“I don’t want him to hurt anyone else either,” he said, “but he’s already threatened us. If we start talking and something happened to you, I couldn’t live with myself. I can’t lose you! I love you!”

She stared at him.

“What did you say?” she whispered, the anger gone now, a look of wonder on her face as she took it all in.

“I said, I love you.”

She searched his face, a single tear trickling down her cheek, then she reached for him and pulled him to her. “I love you too,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“This is awkward,” Jimmy said, smiling.

“I think I’m gonna barf,” John said.

Luke and Ellie ignored them. She pulled back and looked into his eyes and he smiled at her.

“How long have you felt this way?” she said.

“I already told you that.”

“You did?”

“You don’t remember?”

She shook her head, then stopped and smiled. “Oh-you did tell me.”

“You had me at goofy goober.”

She laughed. “I did, huh? You’re easy.”

“We’re still here,” John said. “And I’m getting more nauseous.”

Jimmy said, “Should we leave you two alone?”

Luke and Ellie let each other go, but she grabbed his hand and held tight.

“Alright,” Luke said. “I don’t want to be the one making all the decisions so let’s vote. Do we tell the neighborhood kids?”

“Yes,” John said.

“Yep,” Jimmy said.

“I think we need to,” Ellie said. “Don’t you?”

“You guys are probably right. Ok, we tell everybody we hang out with. Let them know what’s going on. Let’s call a kick the can game tonight and spread the word.”

Ellie smiled and leaned against him. He hoped they weren’t making a huge mistake.

Jaxon and Sally arrived at June Littleton’s house in Reston late that afternoon. She was expecting them. Sally had called and asked if they could come by and talk to her about her son’s case. Sally said she seemed somewhat distant, but agreed to see them.

Knocking on the door, Jaxon said, “You got this, right?”

Sally nodded.

The door opened and a woman in her late fifties scowled at them from behind a screened door. She wore a cheap flower print dress with a mismatched belt cinched around her waist, tight, so that her belly hung over it. Her feet were bare and she held a dishrag in her right hand.

“You the police officers?” she said.

“Yes ma’am,” Sally said. “I’m Detective Winston and this is Detective Jennings. May we come in?”

“I’d rather you didn’t. My Mister is napping and I don’t want you wakin’ him. What do you want?”

“Is your ‘Mister,’ Stewart’s Father?”

She seemed to flinch a little at the mention of her son’s name. She wrung her hands in the dishrag and said, “No. That man is long gone. Hell, he wasn’t around much anyway when he was here. Why?”

Sally nodded. “Things like this are never easy, ma’am and I know you’ve been waiting a long time for something to surface in regards to your son. I think we’ve found him, but we need you to come with us and identify him. Could you do that?”

Her face did not change, but her hands stopped the constant wringing of the rag and she sagged against the doorframe. “Is he…?”

Sally nodded. “I’m sorry Mrs. Littleton. I know you must be upset, but it is very important you identify him for us. To be sure. Can you do that?”

She nodded her head slowly, eyes transfixed on some distant object. Then, she seemed to remember they were there. “I’ll get my things,” she whispered, and disappeared back inside. She returned a moment later with her purse and a pair of flat white shoes that clashed with the off-white patterned dress. She shuffled along next to them as they escorted her to the car.

At the morgue, Boris alerted Dr. Barstow and he got Stewart ready for them as they helped her back to Bay C. Before they entered she said, “Will I be able to tell it’s him?”

“I believe so, Mrs. Littleton,” Sally said.

“June. Call me June.”

Sally smiled. “Yes, June. I think you’ll be able to tell us if he’s your son or not.”

She nodded and seemed to shrink a little as they pushed through the door. Dr. Barstow waited for them next to the sliding tray and introduced himself to her before pulling back the plastic sheet.

She gasped.

She reached out to touch his face and then recoiled ever so slightly at the feel of him. Then, she began softly crying. Jaxon felt that was as good a confirmation as anyone could give.

“He’s still so young,” she said. “Have you had him here this whole time?”

“No ma’am,” Sally said. “He was found in a neighborhood swimming pool five months ago. We weren’t able to identify him until today.”

“But how can he look the same? Shouldn’t he have…uh…”

“We think his murderer kept him frozen all this time,” Jaxon said, and she flinched at his voice. It was the first time he had spoken since they met.

“Frozen?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Why would anyone do that?”

“I don’t know, June,” Sally said. “Whoever did this to your son is a very demented individual.”

“You don’t know who did this?”

“Not yet,” Sally said, “but we’ve made some progress and we will catch him.”

June turned back to her son. “Twenty seven years. He would be thirty nine now.” A single tear tracked down her face and then she began to sob. Sally went to her and put an arm around her. Jaxon knew exactly how she felt.

That evening, everyone was there, even Patrick. Luke wasn’t sure if Patrick was still sore at them and he guessed it didn’t matter. This was more important than any petty differences they may have had.

All the kids knew about most of the stuff, but the Facebook friend William Smith, and the text messages and phone calls Luke and Ellie had gotten were all new to them. ‘George,’ the pool dummy, drew a few laughs but most were shocked at how the dummy had been traded for a real dead boy.

“That must have been a shocker for you guys,” Ralph said.

“I about crapped my pants,” John said.

Luke’s older sister, Deana, looked mad. “I think you guys are stupid,” she said. “The police need to know about this and you idiots are keeping it from them.”