away.
He’d let her down just as he had his team two years prior to that.
His work as an Equalizer now allowed him to do what he couldn’t do over five years ago for his team, what he couldn’t do for Melissa three years back. Make a wrong right.
Maybe if he could in some way make this tragic wrong right, he could forgive himself for hurting Melissa with such nonchalance.
He had to try.
The screen door opened and Melissa leaned out. “You can come in now.”
Jonathan pressed the soles of his boots against the porch floor, stopping the swing and simultaneously pushing himself up.
“Just one thing.” Melissa looked embarrassed. “Presley has a serious hangover. She’s a little cranky so tread lightly.”
“Yeah.” Jonathan forced something as close to a smile as he could produce. “I got that part.”
He immediately regretted the words. Melissa’s look of weary exasperation had him rethinking his lack of tact. When she turned and went inside, he followed.
The interior of the house was as humble as the exterior, and equally in need of attention. Toys lay scattered about, but the glaring theme was disorderliness. Under the circumstances it was expected, but Jonathan sensed the house had always been untidy. Clearly, living up to “Suzy Homemaker” standards was not on Presley’s agenda.
Presley Shepherd, twenty-three according to her DMV record, currently had auburn hair. Her DMV photo showed her as a blonde with a brazen blue streak down one side. She was dangerously thin and quite happy to show off as much of her slight frame as possible. The shorts and tank top were two sizes too small even for her.
“Presley,” Melissa said, “this is my friend Jonathan.”
The missing child’s mother peered up from her perch on the sofa, her gaunt cheeks making her eyes appear inordinately large. “Let’s just get this over with. I have stuff to do.”
William indicated the end of the sectional sofa farthest away from where his wife lounged. “Please, have a seat, sir.”
Jonathan waited for Melissa to settle first, then lowered onto the upholstered sofa beside her. The brush of his arm against hers made him flinch. Thankfully she didn’t seem to notice.
“What do you wanna know?” Presley demanded. She combed her fingers through her hair and looked him up and down as if she’d only just realized he was male.
“Why don’t you walk me through the night Polly went missing,” Jonathan suggested.
Presley rolled her eyes.
“I know this is hard,” Melissa said softly, “but we have to try every avenue.”
Jonathan was amazed by her patience. He wasn’t so sure Presley deserved so much slack. He didn’t need a shrink to analyze this woman. Her indifference and self-absorption were glaringly evident and, based on what he’d read of her background when he’d looked into the characters related to this drama, likely related to her neglected childhood.
“William and I had a big fight.” Presley glanced at her husband, who looked as miserable as he no doubt felt. “Polly was asleep. I didn’t want her waking up with us fighting again so he went to his folks’ house for the night. No big mystery.” She threw her hands up. “Same old, same old.” She made eye contact with Jonathan only once and only briefly as she spoke.
“Again?” he asked.
Her pale face scrunched into a frown. “What?”
“You said,” Jonathan clarified, “that you didn’t want Polly to wake up with you fighting ‘again.’ Have you been fighting frequently?” He glanced from Presley to William and back. “Since he returned home on leave?”
Her thin, pointy shoulders hunched. “I don’t know. Yeah, I guess. We always fight.” She looked to her husband. “It’s just the way we are.”
William said nothing.
Jonathan moved in a different direction. “According to the police report, there was no sign of forced entry. Did you ensure the door was locked after he left?”
She twirled the fingers of her right hand in her hair. “Course. I’d be stupid not to.”
William cut a look at her but quickly glanced away.
Jonathan let several seconds lapse before broaching the next question. He wanted both of them to squirm a moment. William’s posture and outward expression never changed. Presley’s, on the other hand, became more agitated. She changed positions on the sofa twice and tugged at her skimpy blouse.
“Besides yourself and William who has a key to your house?”
William looked to Melissa. “You have one.”
Melissa nodded. “I keep it in the key box at home.” To Jonathan she added, “It’s on the wall by the back door. That’s where we hang the keys.”
“No one else.” William turned to Presley. “Right?”
“You’d know better than me,” she said, incensed. “You got the locks changed the last time you were home.”
Jonathan considered her statement a moment as she and her husband discussed the issue of keys. “Why did you have the locks changed?” he asked, the question directed to William.
“Presley was being harassed by this jerk,” William said, “and I was about to be deployed for six months.” He shrugged. “I was trying to protect my family.”
“Worked out real good, didn’t it?” Presley snapped.
A new layer of agony settled deep into William’s features.
“Blaming William or yourself won’t help right now,” Melissa said in that same gentle tone. “Is there any possibility someone else had a key? One of your friends maybe?”
Presley shot up from the sofa. “I knew this was the way it would be.” She planted her hands on her narrow hips. “I’ve been through this crap with the cops already. I don’t need to go through it with you. Everybody knows that retard Stevie took Polly.” She glared at Melissa. “He probably got the key from your house. You let him hang around all the time like he’s family or something.”
Melissa flinched. “The key is right where it has always been. And you know Stevie wouldn’t do that. He’s family. We’re the only family he has.”
Presley’s eyebrows reared up in skepticism. “You sure about that, Miss Goodie-Two-Shoes? They won’t let him play with the kids at the day care center no more cause of what he did. Maybe you’d better get your facts straight.”
Jonathan exchanged a look with Melissa. Had he missed something?
Melissa shook her head, weariness and worry heavy in her eyes. “That was a misunderstanding. Stevie was a volunteer. The kids loved him. That one little girl was new. She didn’t understand Stevie was
