Body of Ash (11 page)

“If you want me to,” he offered shyly. “My parents are already in bed.”

Kicking her sneakers off, she whispered, “I do.”

Rachel could hear his small movements, but couldn’t see him in the blackness. She heard his coat’s zipper being pulled down. Next his shoes made a clunking sound as they bounced somewhere in front of her. Feeling the couch sink with his weight, Jason’s
bare
arms snaked around her and lowered her
down beside him. A little more stretching and he managed to unfold a thick quilt that was kept across the top of the couch.

Snuggling her back into his chest, her head rested perfectly on his arm. With her eyes closed, he smelled of more than just his mother’s soap and the sweet mint Orbit gum he always chewed. Beneath his trembling muscles, Jason’s heart beat loudly as he touched her skin. His scent was powerfully masculine and exuded an eagerness she found unfamiliar, but desirable. 

Never before had the two of them spent a night together, nor had they done much more than kiss. As his mouth sent a trail of heat from her ear to her lower jaw, Rachel’s own heart rate began to quicken. His hand slipped across her belly before pausing at her hip. The intimacy of his fingers moving slowly near her private places left her skin tingling. She knew he was waiting for her to decide how far they would go.

Quivering at his touch, she guided his hand beneath her sweater.

1
7

ANGELA

Friday 12:00 AM

As Angela sat in the dining room, her
longcase
clock chimed midnight.  She wanted the pendulum to sweep everything away, especially her husband’s touch. With one hand firmly on her elbow, Brian’s voice spilled lies across the table.  She gripped the steaming mug of Earl Grey until her fingers grew numb. Each sip of the liquid scorched the roof of her mouth, but she didn’t pause before taking another.  She stared straight ahead, to where the clock sat along the far wall, fearing she might be tempted to throw the tea in Brian’s face.

Officer Barry sat across from Brian. His large body filled their daughter’s seat.  As he jotted down the names of Rachel’s friends, he didn’t seem to notice the pungent smell of garlic from dinner. Despite her hasty clean up, the odor hung in the air.

Brian gave a half-ass story about Rachel. His account made it sound like they were offering
her a
trip to Disney, not sending her to a boarding school he knew she would hate. He
left out the fact that Marge Finch showed up on the doorstep and that their daughter must have heard some of what was said. Sick of his self-righteousness, sick of the room, Angela wanted to scour her home and her husband with bleach. 

It had been two hours since Angela entered the teen’s room to discover an empty bed and open window.  Like a punch to the stomach, the rustling curtains alerted her to what happened. Rachel didn’t leave a note, but in her haste, left clothes hanging from opened drawers.

Brian refused to call the police. He insisted she would come back when she was cold enough. Angela didn’t care what he thought. The two of them made enough mistakes for one evening. She called 911 immediately. 

“So,” the officer’s voice was gentle, “other than talking to her about the possibility of going to a new school, she seemed okay?”  He looked at them both when he spoke, but favored Brian.  

Even now he’s the almighty reverend, impossible of any wrongdoing.

“Yes. Rachel had a wonderful evening,” Brian offered. “She had her young man over for dinner. Perhaps the two had a little falling out.” Her husband shrugged his shoulders. 

Liar.

“She was upset about leaving,” Angela clarified.

Scratching his head, Officer Barry sat back in the chair. His kind eyes poked out from bushy salt and pepper brows.

“It has been my experience that teens, especially girls, get irrational and need a little time to cool off. Their hormones are all out of whack.”  He added a spoon of sugar to his cup. Before drinking, he tested the temperature with a poke of his finger. 

Pursing her lips, Angela watched his big hand bump the mug, leaving a wet ring on the linen.

“What can we do?”  She wondered if Rachel brought a coat. Earlier, the girl had been wearing just a sweater. Almost November, nights were cold. 

How much did she hear? What if she doesn’t come back?

“We don’t file a missing person’s report until someone’s been gone for twenty-four hours, but I’ll have the guys keep an eye out for her while on patrol tonight. If she’s not back, tomorrow we can discuss filing the report.”

“I’m sure she’ll be home soon,” Brian interrupted.  He leaned in towards the officer and gave him a confident smile. “You know George, she’s still young and reputations are important at her age. With all of your experience, I’m sure
you understand why I would like to keep this quiet if possible.”

Angela swallowed back a sob.  She wanted to scream at him to shut up. Even with their daughter out at an ungodly hour, he still only cared about himself. 

We drove her to this. 

“Of course,” the big man acknowledged with a smile. His eyes lit up when Brian used his first name.

Another victim of Brian Jones’s flattery
…

“My Christy is twelve. I never know what will set her off these days.” With two big swallows, his mug was empty.  He glanced at the tea pot, but Angela pretended not to notice.

George wasn’t a help if he couldn’t see beyond Brian’s sideshow.

Overwhelmed and frustrated, Angela couldn’t stand her growing sense of claustrophobia. Just the inaction in the room left her damp with perspiration and on edge. If the men were too pitiful to help, she wouldn’t waste a moment longer listening to them blather on. There had to be someone who knew where Rachel was and Angela wouldn’t rest until she found her. Grateful to have direction, she rose to a stand and
steadied her legs beneath her. Free from his silencing reach, her husband watched her with skeptical concentration.

“I don’t think my daughter will be returning home tonight. So, if you would be so kind as to update your patrolmen, I would be grateful.”  Straightening her spine, she placed the empty mugs onto a platter, and headed for the kitchen. Pausing in the doorway, she tilted her chin over her shoulder.

“And if you do find Rachel, please let her know we aren’t sending her away… I want her home.” 

1
8

BRIAN

Friday 12:30 AM

Opening the door for Officer Barry, Brian stepped out into the cold. A quick glance at the street, and his worries that his neighbors were alerted to the night’s events were put at
ease. With their lights still off and the officer having the sense to refrain from the use of his strobe lights when he pulled up, the only sound of movement was the autumn leaves scraping against the walkway in the wind. 

Shoving his hands into his trousers, he followed George to the cruiser.

“Listen, I hope you weren’t off put by wife’s rudeness,” he began. “Angie has just been going through a lot lately. With Rachel going off to school, and me being invested in the church, she gets pretty emotional.”

Officer Barry stopped at the car. Scratching his neck just under the collar, he nodded. “No need to apologize. Teens are stressful.”

With a keen eye, Brian sized up the cop. The man was tall, at least six feet. His build was massive, weighing in somewhere around three hundred pounds. Brian knew the type. A high school career in football left the guy with a lot of muscle that turned to fat with age.  Barry probably thought a job as a cop would keep him fit, but grew obese sitting behind a desk or in his car filling up on drive thru and donuts. 

Just like my brothers. Fit in high school, but now they’re disgusting.

Wondering if Barry would keep quiet for the time being, Brian pressed on. “She just needs to give Rachel a chance to be a teen, but she hovers. Interferes too much, you know? I’m not a woman, and thank the good Lord I’m not, but – she needs to back off sometimes.”

With a sympathetic frown, the cop shook his head. “If there is one thing I have learned after being married to Kimberly for fifteen years, is that women are dramatic. She’ll call me in the middle of a shift, hell bent on one cause or another, demanding I get involved.” Opening the squad car door, he tossed in his notebook and hat. “Most of the time, she exaggerates half of the story, embarrassing us both. Women should learn from men. They would be a lot happier if they minded their own business – but damn they would cut off our nuts if we told them that.”  Covering his mouth, he offered Brian an apologetic look. “Sorry Reverend, I shouldn’t have spoken so vulgar.”

Patting the officer’s shoulder, Brian shook his head. “We’re all sinners my friend. No need to apologize to me. I’m just thankful you understand.”

“Oh, I do,” he agreed with a vigorous nod of his head. “I can only imagine what my wife would be putting me through if one of our kids was out past curfew. If I see Rachel, I’ll send her on home and tell her to apologize to her mother.
Maybe, if it’s okay with you, I’ll even give her a scare and pretend I might drag her down to the station.”

Brian smiled. The policeman was a lot like the deacons that served the church. A little praise and an act of gratitude and they would do anything. “Well, hopefully the conversation tonight can be kept between us.”

“Yes, sir.”
With a huff, George Barry fought to slide his body into the driver’s seat.

Noticing the officer’s physical struggle, Brian cringed at how the man’s bulging gut pressed itself against the wheel. Again, George’s size reminded him of Ethan and Jonah. How his brothers managed to move their fat asses around the dairy barns in ninety degree heat without dropping dead was a mystery.

That would be too easy of a death for them.

With a quick wave to George, Brian headed back up the walkway.  Needing a strong drink, the last thing he wanted was to think of his damn family.

1
9

MARGE

Friday 1:30 AM

Rolling onto her left side, Marge awoke long enough for her mind to register the swish of her bedroom door closing. The clock radio flashed it was only one thirty. Grabbing hold of the tequila, Marge took a reassuring swig before placing it back on the bedside stand. In the stillness of her room, she tried focusing on the familiar sounds and movements of her apartment. After listening for a while, she relaxed with the realization that it must have been her daughter checking in on her again.