Silent Screams - C. E. Lawrence [112]
After Laura disappeared, Lee had bought his mother an elaborate, state-of-the-art alarm system, but she rarely used it.
“Why?”
“Will you just do that for me?”
“Stan already turned it on. I wish you’d tell me what’s going on.”
“Look, just do it—okay? Please? I’ll explain later.”
Her heard air escaping from her nostrils. His mother always sighed through her nose—a tight, disapproving sound.
“All right. You know those policemen are still watching us all the time, don’t you?”
“They’re watching me, too, Mom.”
“Then you know how it feels.”
“I’ll call back tomorrow, and we’ll talk about it, okay?” He was anxious to call George’s house to see if everything was okay there.
Another sound of escaping air, a thin hissing noise. “Very well. But I wish you wouldn’t be so mysterious all the time.”
“Look, I’m sorry. I’ll call you tomorrow.” To press her any more now would just backfire. “Good night. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Very well. Good night, Lee.”
He hung up and speed dialed George Callahan’s number. George answered on the first ring.
“Hello?” He sounded cheerful—probably on his third beer. George wasn’t a heavy drinker, but he liked to knock back a few after a week of double shifts at the hospital.
“Hi, George, it’s Lee.”
“Heya, fella. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. I—uh, I was wondering how you guys are doing?”
“You mean Bunny and me?” George called his daughter Bunny, and had ever since she was a baby. Lee couldn’t remember how it had started—something to do with bunny pajamas Laura had given Kylie on her first Christmas, just like the ones Laura had as a child. “We’re fine, just great. I’d let you talk to her, only she’s in bed now. School day tomorrow, you know.”
“Sure, sure. So she’s okay?”
“Fine. Hey, listen, don’t worry. The cops are still keeping an eye on us.”
“Good, good. Is your alarm system on?”
“Yeah, sure. Any breaks in the case?”
“Not yet, but we’re working on it.”
“You’ll get him. I know you will. Hey, let’s have a cookout at my place one of these days, huh?” George said. He loved entertaining, and liked to fire up his barbeque and grill steaks.
“Sounds great.”
“Good. It’s a deal, then.”
“Sure, sure.” Lee wasn’t about to tell George the whole story, any more than he would tell his mother.
“Okay, then, buddy, I’ll see you soon.” Lee heard the sound of a sports broadcaster in the background, and could tell George wanted to get him off the phone so he could watch the sports news.
“Right. See you soon,” Lee said.
“I’ll tell Bunny you called.”
“Great, thanks. ’Bye.”
“So long.”
Lee hung up and stood in front of the collection of faded snapshots of his sister on the refrigerator. In one, the sun glinted off her dark hair, showing the copper highlights—more evidence of their family’s Celtic ancestry. Her grin was wide and lopsided, and she held a border collie puppy in her arms, a present from George Callahan. After Laura’s disappearance George had given the dog away. Though he never said so, Lee thought that he couldn’t stand the daily reminder of her absence. He knew that ever since Laura’s disappearance, George watched his daughter very carefully—and as an emergency room worker, he knew what people were capable of.
He went back into the living room, where the piano stood, waiting for him. It was close to eleven now, though—too late to play without disturbing the neighbors. He ran his fingers lightly over the keys, looking the pages of a Bach partita open in front of him. Tomorrow he would make time for Bach.
Back in the kitchen, he looked out the window at the couple across the way having dinner. They had finished now and were doing the dishes together. The woman stood at the sink, head down, washing dishes, and the man came up behind her and put his arms around her waist, hugging her body to him. It was a simple gesture, but it conveyed both protectiveness and possession. What happened, Lee thought, when protection faded and only possession was left? He closed the window’s bamboo shades and left the room.
Somewhere, out there in the darkness, was a man with