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MAGGIE KENNEDY-O’KEEFE
Wednesday, June 17, 2020
Despite all my bravado I get little sleep. Every time I close my eyes I see orange flames behind my lids, I can feel the heat and hear the growl of the fire as it tears through the barn, can smell the acrid scent of burning wood. In my dream, I’m not pregnant anymore and I’m desperate to find my baby. I run from the barn, the blaze close at my heels and I find myself at Ransom Caves. When I step inside, the cavern is pitch-black but the air is blissfully cool. In the distance, the cry of an infant echoes off the rocky walls. My baby. I flounder through the dark trying to find the source of the crying that morphs into the high-pitched trill of a telephone.
At six, when the alarm goes off, it’s a relief to slide out of bed. My muscles are sore and my throat still aches so I decide to compromise with Shaun and spend the morning taking it easy.
While Shaun is off cleaning up the mess from the fire, I sit in a rocking chair in the baby’s bedroom. I stare at the crib that I assembled and buttery yellow walls that Shaun painted. I doze, my hands cradling my belly and I can’t believe how soon I’ll be able to hold her in my arms.
I also can’t believe how close the baby and I came to being seriously injured in the fire. Just the thought of it brings tears to my eyes. As a police officer I know that danger lurks around every corner. I know that there is no way that I will be able to protect my baby from all the bad in the world. But I have to try. That’s what cops do. What moms do.
At eleven thirty, I heave myself out of the rocking chair, get into my car and make the drive to the police station. I’m on high alert, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary but see nothing unusual. It doesn’t make any sense, the origami bird, the phone calls, the fire. I’m not ready to say out loud that the three might be connected but I can’t help feeling like I’m being targeted.
I have to tread lightly here. If I’m wrong, the chief might pull me from Eve’s case. I don’t want that. When I arrive at the station I decide to park in a spot where I know the security camera is pointed, just in case.
The squad room is buzzing. There is a constant ringing of phones. Tips in Eve’s case. An officer is clicking away on his keyboard, a phone receiver beneath his chin, and another is speaking loudly into the phone trying to talk over the annoying groan of the ancient copy machine. Francis is staring intently at his computer screen. A few people stop and ask me about the fire and how I’m doing. I assure them that I’m just fine and make a beeline for my office.
My phone is also ringing and after talking to a woman who is positive her ex-husband was the one who killed Eve, I listen to a confession to Eve’s murder from a boy who sounds like he’s no more than sixteen. I also get a handful of calls from someone who calls me a bitch and a whore and I’m tempted to trace the calls and arrest the caller for harassment. No time to do that now though.
I think about taking my phone off the hook but instead I try to call the fire marshal and end up leaving a message. I hang up and drop the origami figure on my desk and pull out Eve’s case folders. I stare at them, trying to decide what I’m going to tackle first. I can’t deal with the bird in my view, so I stick it in my bottom desk drawer.
I turn my attention to the interview Ms. Reiss did with the police after Eve died. According to her, on the day Eve died Shaun walked out of the school just after Eve did. Shaun was a senior when we were sophomores and while he knew me as the police chief’s daughter, we never interacted. He didn’t give me a second look until years later in the grocery store. After the fire, Shaun’s name in the police file doesn’t seem all that important anymore but I’m still pissed he didn’t tell me about it.
I call his cell and he answers on the first ring.
“Maggie, is everything okay?” he asks.
“Everything’s fine,” I say. “I was just going through some files on Eve’s case and your name was mentioned.”
“My name?” he asks in surprise. “Why?” I read him the quote from Ms. Reiss saying that she had seen him leaving the school with Eve.
When he doesn’t say anything I tell myself that this one piece of paper probably means nothing. Ms. Reiss misspoke or misinterpreted. I remind myself the man I’m talking to is my husband, not some suspect to interrogate.
“I didn’t know you knew Eve,” I say.
“I knew of her. Grotto High isn’t that big of a school, you know.”
“You never mentioned her. Not once. You never told me you had a class together,” I say. I’m trying to keep my voice easy, neutral. It’s hard.
“What are you trying to say here, Maggie?” Shaun asks. I hear the hurt in his voice.
“I want to know why you didn’t tell me about this,” I say. “I want to know why I have to read that you knew my best friend, who was murdered, in a police report.”
“Maggie...” Shaun begins but I keep going.
“Of all the times that I cried to you about Eve and all the times I told you about how much I missed her. You never once told me that you knew her, let alone that you talked to her on the day she died.”
“That’s because it wasn’t a big deal, Maggie,” he says. “We were in the office at the same time on that day. We talked.”
“Jesus, Shaun,” I say in frustration.
“And I told the police about it,” he says defensively. “You’re more worried about it than they were.” He’s mad now. I can’t blame him. This conversation isn’t going the way I hoped.
“You need an alibi for me for that day?” His voice rises. “Well, it was just before Christmas, right? Then I was at the tree farm loading Christmas trees onto the tops of people’s cars. I’m sure I can line up some witnesses if I need to. Is that what you want?”
“No, no, Shaun. I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m not accusing you of anything. I was surprised to see your name and I’m following up. It’s my job to find out what people might know about Eve’s last day.”
“There’s nothing more to know, Maggie,” Shaun says. “But it’s always fun to be interrogated by my wife. I’ve got to get back to work.” He hangs up.
