LITMIR.BIZ

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      Chapter Four

      The air in the living room grew still and I found it hard to breathe.

      Detective Garrett read the note and placed it in a clear plastic bag—he seemed to have an evidence kit in his pocket. His expression never changed, although he did glance at me to see how I was doing. I tried hard to mimic his poker face. Next, he examined the figure. “Lucie, did you know about this compartment?”

      Lucie shook her head.

      “Jason,” he said, “I have to ask you a big favor.” Jason stopped using Hermione as a launching pad for his Spider-Man and turned his attention to the detective.

      “Favor?” he said.

      “He wants you to do something for him, something special,” Lucie explained. “That’s what a favor is.”

      “You want me to find Mom? You can’t find her?”

      Detective Garrett looked unhappy.

      “It’s all right,” I said. “Lucie understands, and we’ve been telling Jason his mother is not coming back.”

      “She is too coming back. She’s hurt. When she’s better she’ll come home.”

      “She died,” Lucie said quietly. “Like your turtle Oscar died, remember? Your turtle didn’t come back.”

      Jason ran from the room zooming his Spider-Man and Superman ahead of him. “No, no, no! She is coming back! Mommy is coming back!”

      We followed him into the spare bedroom. Jason lay on the bed, his action figures held tightly in one hand while he twisted a corner of the bedspread with the other. “I want my mommy,” he sobbed as I knelt down beside him. Lucie stood beside me and patted his head.

      Detective Garrett sat on a chair near the bed and looked into Jason’s eyes. “I’m sorry about your mom. Really sorry. Do you want to help us find out who hurt her?”

      Jason stopped crying and nodded.

      “Then I need to borrow your Transformer for a while. I’ll take good care of it and I’ll bring it back to you.”

      “Okay,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “My Transformer will help. He’s strong like me.”

      “Thank you.” Garrett left the room to get the figure before Jason changed his mind. I turned on the TV to Dora the Explorer. Jason curled up on the bed with a thumb in his mouth.

      “We’ll be back,” I said and kissed him. I motioned to Lucie to follow me into the living room. She wrapped part of the bedspread around Jason and walked slowly out to the living room behind me.

      “I don’t think Jason can handle much more about his mother right now,” I said to Garrett.

      “Can you, Lucie?” he asked.

      Her eyes got large and she started pulling on a strand of her white-blond hair. “Yes,” she said after a slight pause.

      “I need to know where Jason got this action figure. Where he really got it. Was it from your dad, the way he said?”

      Lucie shook her head slowly. “From some man I didn’t know. Mom knew a lot of men. I didn’t like this man. He pretended to be nice to us. He brought me a doll. He didn’t know I was too old for dolls. And he gave Jason his Transformer. He told Jason to take it with him when he went to day care at Sandler’s. He never cared about my doll, but he always asked to see Jason’s Transformer when he stopped by. He’d say there was something wrong with it that he needed to fix. He’d take the Transformer into another room and then bring it back. Jason thought it was a game—fix the Transformer. My mom said it was a game.”

      “Can you tell me what the man looked like?”

      “He was big and he was mean to our mom. He made Mom cry once. He twisted her arm.”

      Garrett nodded. “Do you know his name?”

      Lucie was quiet for a moment. She twisted another strand of hair. “Mom called him William. She said, ‘Stop, William, you’re hurting me.’ But she told me to go back to the bedroom when I tried to help. I heard him shout at my mother and then he left. He said, ‘If you don’t get it for me, you’ll be very sorry.’” Lucie teared up. “Do you think he’s the one who killed my mom?”

      “I don’t know,” Garrett said. “When did he threaten her?”

      “A few times. The last time was a week ago.” Tears rolled down Lucie’s cheeks. “I should have done something to make him stay away from her.”

      I hugged Lucie. “There was nothing you could do, Luce. He would have hurt you too.”

      “Would you recognize the man if you saw him again?” Garrett asked.

      Lucie nodded. “He had a scar on his forehead.” She moved her hand along her temple. “He tried to hide it with his hair, but anyone could see it.”

      Garrett looked at me. “I might need her to look through some pictures at the station tomorrow. Can you bring her after school?”

      I nodded. “Of course. Can you do that, Luce?”

      “I want to find out who hurt my mom,” Lucie said.

      “I think that’s enough for now,” Garrett said.

      “Thank you, Detective Garrett,” I said and shook his hand.

      “I think we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.” He smiled. “Better call me Mason.”

      “Like Perry Mason,” I said.

      “Perry Mason? You watch old TV shows?”

      “Old TV shows, old movies. It’s one of my favorite pastimes.”

      “Mine too.” He smiled again and his gray eyes took on an intensity that made me catch my breath.

      “You can call me Ditie,” I said.

      “Ditie,” he said. “An unusual name. I like it. Makes me think of Aphrodite.”

      I blushed. “My father gave me that nickname. And it was for Aphrodite—funny you’d make that association.”

      Now it seemed to me Mason blushed a little. “Not so funny.”

      “Can you stay for some cake and ice cream?” I asked. “I know it would mean a lot to Jason.”

      “Of course,” Mason said. “I wouldn’t miss out on cake and ice cream.”

      At that moment Lurleen burst into the living room. “I thought you all would never finish. And where is the birthday boy?” She pretended to look under the couch and in Hermione’s ear. “He must be here somewhere.”

      Lucie giggled. “Oh, Miss du Trois, he’s in the bedroom.”

      “Chérie,” she said to Lucie. “You must call me Lurleen. Everyone does. Now let’s go get that brother of yours. I’ve set up all the games outside.”

      They skipped off to the bedroom, leaving Mason and me alone in the living room. We could hear squeals of delight coming from Jason as they tickled him. We both smiled. There was something about that smile of Mason’s. Something wonderful.

      I caught myself. Mason had kids, which meant he probably had a wife, ring or no ring. I wasn’t in any position to take an interest in him. A childhood friend had died and I had two small children to protect. Here was a smart, kind man, who just might keep the children safe. Nothing more.

      I sighed. Mason looked over at me, but he didn’t say anything.

      I’d had the occasional boyfriend but nothing serious in my thirty-five years—with one exception. Phil Brockton. Some men couldn’t overlook the fact that I had a well-rounded figure or the fact that I didn’t need to depend on them for my livelihood or much else. It was a fault of mine,

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