Chasing the Monsters: 43

"You didn't do anything wrong, Jack," Jenna said, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes.  She kissed him, and it landed just west of his mouth.

"I just felt like an asshole, you know?  Grandma didn't know anything that Mitch guy did.  It was like, not my business or something, but she sorta acted weird about him."

"Like weird how?"

"She was all into him.  She even painted him.  I'm not even sure she's really done with it.  She seemed, confused."

"I don't know if we're meant to understand that."

"Me neither.  Anyway, she cried and junk.  I felt like shit."

"She cried because she realized what he had done to her baby.  Her son."

He smiled at her.  "How did you get so damn smart?"

"I don't know," she smiled back, and then kissed him again.  Then she took his hand and started walking.  "So, what happened after that?"

"My Dad came in, he was about to apologize to her, and she just sort of did it first, kinda.  She said she didn't want to see Laurence anymore.  Something like that.  Mom was amazing, as usual."

"Your grandma just didn't know.  So what you did, was actually right.  She didn't know, and you told her the truth.  Nothing wrong with that."

"If you look at it like that, no, there's not."

"Okay, then, think of it like that."

"I'll try, thanks."

"Was your Dad okay?"

"I don't know.  I don't get how he ever could be.  Lots of . . . well, bad stuff has happened to him, from when he was a kid."

She didn't answer.  She just nodded and pursed her lips.

He said, "I think I should tell him.  You know, that I'm going to go to college.  Maybe he could use to hear that right now."

"Maybe.  He'll be happy, won't he?"

"Yep."

"Then tell him.  He probably could use it."

"Yeah.  I'll tell him tonight."

"Good."

"Yep, it is.  And so are you," he said, running his hand on her hair.

***

The doorbell rang, and Blair, wiping Jewel's hands off in the kitchen, shouted, "I can't get to it!"

Todd came down the staircase, tablet in hand, and said, "I will.  And I'm working from home today."  He went to the door, still reading on his tablet, and opened it.  "Dad?" he said, peaking Blair's interest as well as his own.

"Son," Timothy said, and his face was twisted with emotion.  "Son, I . . ."

"Dad, what's wrong?"  Todd said, his eyes following Timothy as he shuffled into the foyer.  "Something's up, you made another trip from Chicago in the same week."

Blair came out from the kitchen, leaving Jewel in her high chair.  "Dad, it's good to see you," her voice trailed off, and she looked at Todd who gave her a confused shrug.

Timothy was already in the family room, sitting, staring off in a strange way.   At the same time, Bitsy, holding little Ray's hand, came back inside from a morning walk around the yard.  She said, "Good morning," and then took in the scene, realizing something was off.  "I'm taking the children upstairs," she said, and lifted Jewel out of her chair.

"Thank you, Momma," Blair said, walking into the family room.  Todd followed her.  Both of them stood in front of Timothy, who was deflated, like a crushed balloon, on the couch. 

Todd said, "Dad, what is it?  Are you all right?"

He looked up at both of them, and slowly responded.  "No."

"My God, I'll get a glass of water," Blair said, going to the kitchen.  

Todd, who had been standing, with his arms crossed over his chest, said, "What's up, Old Man?"

"It's . . . Pamela."

"The case?  She remembered something else?  Something in the journals?"

"No," Timothy said, "she's dead."  His voice shattered.

Todd sat down, slowly, across from his adoptive father.  "What?  What do you mean?"

Blair returned with a glass of water, and handed it to Timothy, who drank some of it, and brushed the moisture away from under his eyes.  He said, "She took her life."

"Oh my God," Blair said, covering her mouth, "that's . . . oh my God, no."  

We were just there.  The dinner.  It can't be . . .

"It was . . . a terrible scene.  In some strange way, I am thankful I was the one to find her."  Timothy croaked out, and drank more water.

Todd wasn't saying anything, and Blair said, "When?"

"Yesterday.   At her home."

"I'm sorry," she said.  The room became still.

Todd finally said, "She took her own life?"

"Yes," the Irishman answered, "I went back to see Ribsky, he said he had a meeting and I could wait there for him, hang with Pamela.  When I got there, the door was ajar in the front.  It was too late; she was already dead.  She . . . cut her wrists and bled to death."  He choked up and broke down into his hands.

Todd got up and Blair went to sit beside her father-in-law.  She swallowed, and said, "Oh Dad, how awful."

"It's a sight I won't soon forget, Bridgette."

Todd said, "Why did she do it, Dad?"  Blair knew Todd was already cataloging this in his list of harm done.

"Jack, he was despondent.  Somehow, he was not surprised.  She'd been plagued, for weeks, with thoughts and guilt.  And, we didn't know this, but she was dying.  Of cancer.  She couldn't handle what her sister left to the world.  Injustice and a cold world, from where I'm sitting."

"This wasn't her fault,"  Todd said.  "It's not even Connie's."

"I wish she could see it that way, Lad.  But can ya?  Ribsky was inconsolable.  I don't plan to be here long, he needs a friend, and somehow, we've bonded a great deal over these two people in our lives.  I must go back."

"Meaning?"  Todd asked, knowing the answer.  

"Meaning Pamela and you, Todd.  After seeing this, first hand, I just wanted to be close to me family."  Timothy took two tapes out of his pocket and placed them on the coffee table.  "Your 911 calls. I wasn't going to bring them, but then, I realized full disclosure was going to be best.   After these, I realized we may be up against something larger with longer roots than we thought."

Todd looked at the tapes but made no move to touch them.  "What's on those?"  He had to hear it.

"Several emergency calls.  Including one small boy."

He gulped.  "So, I didn't imagine it."

"No."  Timothy agreed.

"Did you listen?" he asked.

"Yes."

Todd looked to his hands and then said, "I don't remember much.  Not first hand."

"Ya said everything ya were supposed to.  The dispatcher was directed to send y'ar call to a specific line.  She never knew who was at the other end of it or why, but she did as she was asked.  According to Ribsky, she's been tormented over it ever since."

"Tormented?"  Todd asked, his voice quiet and restrained.  "She couldn't have been that bad off.  She never came forward until now.  She knew.  Someone knew.  People knew what was happening to us, and someone shoved it under the rug."

"Likely more than one person knew something, maybe not the details, but something.  The director, and the person on the line."

"Cover-up.  For money, likely, if I know Peter.  Probably awarded their silence well."

"She got nothing, that I know.  She was just afraid to cause trouble, I believe.  To lose her job.  The people involved are likely much more powerful.  She followed orders.  Her mistake was not standing up and saying something."

Todd fingered the tapes, but still did not take them off the table.  Timothy continued, "Ribsky is not giving up.  I'll have ya know he wants to get to the bottom of it.  Says it's a symptom of a sick system.  If there's one cover-up, there will be more.  And, he believes that all of it relates to the loss of Connie, and now, in an odd way, Pamela. He's like a man unchained.  This is why I feel I must go back."

"He's right," Blair said, standing and pacing, "it is sick.  How can someone let this happen to a little boy and his mother for money?" she said, her voice splintering.  

Todd put his hand out and she took it, and he gently pulled her to the couch beside him.  She gathered herself together, while Timothy went on.  "Ribsky says it won't end here.  He'll do more digging and get to the bottom of it.  He's more motivated, let's say, from heartbreak and a thirst for revenge himself," Timothy pointed to the tapes.  "I'm concerned, a bit, for him."

Todd leaned forward.  "He knows who it is?  The voice on the tape?"

"Not definitely, and he's not saying right now.  I think he knows enough to keep that quiet.  Can't have Todd Manning going off to try and right things, eh?  When he finds out the truth, he will take care of it, and he will tell us."

"The truth," Todd repeated, studying the tapes.  "Unless he goes and takes care of it himself.  Pamela's dead.  What has he got to lose?"

"This turn of events made him believe.  He no longer doubts y'ar memories and he wants justice.  Feels if that department can cover this, they can cover anything.  And these tapes, they're evidence.  He asked me to hold them, for safe keeping."  He reached for them back.

Before he could get his hands onto them, Todd slapped his strong palm down on top.  "No.  This is a piece of my past, and I need to have them."

"Ya can't.  Ya know that, Todd.  I have to keep them, under lock and key."

"Then why did you bring them?"

"I'm not even sure anymore.  Maybe so ya could listen, if ya insisted.  Which I knew ya would.  No use in trying to fight ya on these things.  I think I might do the same, now that I see what an unclear past brings.  But ya can't keep them, and I'm not even sure ya should hear.  As y'ar father, I wish ya wouldn't listen.  As a man, I understand if ya have to."

Blair was still crying, and she shook her head no as her husband gently picked them up.

Todd said, "Cassettes.  Hmf.  Just starting to be popular then, right?"

"Well, yes, they were pretty common by the mid 70s."

Blair was biting her thumbnail, watching Todd gently hold and turn over the cassettes.  He said, "There are only dates."

"Yes.  There were no other markings on tapes of this kind, Ribsky said.  The contact was told to put them into a file cabinet and lock it."

Todd seemed to be in another place.  "And she locked it.  And they've been there, in the drawer, locked away."

"Yes, Son."

Blair still had a firm grasp on his bicep with her free hand.  Her tears fell freely.  She said, "Todd, you don't have to."

He didn't answer her, and just stared at the plastic casings.

Timothy said, "Knowing what it would mean to ya, I brought them.  I just figured y'ad find a way to get y'ar hands on them if I didn't.  I'll wait here while ya listen, or make copies."

Todd didn't move, he just held the tapes in his hand.  Blair repeated, "And you don't have to, at all, Todd."

"Right," Timothy added, "ya can just let it go, if ya like."

Todd paused, and then said, "I can't."

Blair just closed her eyes, and Todd stood up.  "I'll be right back, then.  Babe," he said, touching her arm.  She opened her eyes and looked at him.  He said, "Don't worry about me.  I'll be all right, and it won't take long.  I'm going to make a copy, and listen later."  He disappeared onto the second level.

She fell onto the couch opposite her father-in-law.  Timothy said, "I'm sorry, Bridgette, I just thought . . ."

She spoke over him, "Oh, Dad, He would have probably broken the law to get his hands on those tapes.  He never could have just let it go.  This thing . . . this Hell he's faced since childhood has such a strong hold.  And now, another life.  Snuffed out.  Sometimes I wonder if it will ever let go of his soul," her voice rasped. 

"On the contrary, Dear Heart.  His soul has to let go of it."

A while later, Timothy drove himself back to the penthouse to rest and refresh himself with a good night's sleep before returning to Chicago.  He picked up the phone.  "Creena, I need to hear y'ar voice," Timothy said, calling his sister.

"Oh, Broham, what seems to be getting ya down?"  the nun said.

"The spirit of Thor is surrounding me, Dear One."  

"What?  Come now, Brotha, ya know ya don't even believe in that."

"No, but Todd's headed for painful trouble, and that man, Ribsky, that I mentioned?  He is as well."

"Goodness, no.  How did all this come about?"

"His wife, Pamela, took her own life."

She crossed herself.  "That is just horrible, Broham.  Are ya all right?"

"Yes.  Something was amiss with her.  She couldn't bear the weight of the world around her.  And, there's other news."

"What is it?"

"I hold in my hands two tapes that have a recording of Todd, as a child."

"Oh, that's darling, Dear One.  I must hear."

"No, it's not like that.  They're recordings . . . of him calling for help to the police.  They ignored him, left him to deal with it on his own.  I've listened. It rips y'ar heart out of y'ar body, it does."

She swallowed, and said, "A child.  Seeking help.  Why did they ignore him?"

"We don't know.  It was intentional.  We're speculating money."

"He was just a wee boy."

"Yes, and Dear Heart, I hope I was not wrong for telling him about this.  The detective, from Chicago, that Ribsky fellow?  He wants to help, but now he is driven by his own demons."

"Todd should not be in Chicago again, any time soon."

"No.  He shouldn't.  I'm hoping he won't.  But I am not sure what effect the tapes will have on him.  I feel such guilt, Creena, over the last year.  Sometimes, I . . ."

"Ya what, Brotha?"

"I . . . can't lie to ya.  Right now, I want a drink, Sister.  And I've been tempted, more than once."

"No, Broham.  That won't help matters.  Y'all lose everything.  The drink is no place to dive into, for y'all drown.  And of course, no one can stop ya but ya'rself."

"I realize it, and I promised.  But it calls to me, especially now.  Trying to forget seeing that woman dead . . ."

"I'm sure of that.  Just pray, or if ya can't, I will.  Think of those children, and of Todd, and this new friend ya have.  All will need ya.  And they'll need ya sober."

"I have been.  I suppose I'll muddle through, eh?"

"Yes, I suppose ya will.  Do ya want me to come there?"

"No.  If I need ya, I will come there instead."  He hung up.

Sister Rebecca Katherine went to her little address book and flipped through it.  Finding the number, she dialed.  "Hello, this is Sister Rebecca Katherine.  Yes, I'm fine, and ya?  Well, I have something to ask ya, if y'ar not busy . . .it's about Timothy.  It's . . . well, a very tough time. . .he needs a friend, and I thought ya would want to help.  Yes.  No, he's back in Llanview, for the night, at the penthouse.  It is important, or I wouldn't ask.  Thank ya."

She hung up, and looked out the window.  "Let's see what happens naturally," and she closed her eyes and prayed.

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