Girl on a Mission: The Dead Do Speak
Chapters 61 & 62
Previously on Girl on a Mission:
Detective Jerry obsessively revisits victim Esta Flannery's case, certain she's the key to understanding the Play Dead Killer’s methods, deciding to re-interview her family and seek answers from lingering spirits—including Mrs. Kensington. Meanwhile, Liza finally confronts her brutally beaten father, Boyd, in the hospital, devastated by his condition, determined to remain strong and hoping desperately for her mother’s comforting presence.
Chapter 61
“Liza, wake up.”
Liza felt a nudge against her arm that woke her up with a startle. Her eyes opened to the window, her legs dangling over the chair she slept in. Morning daylight beamed through the windows and the familiar sound of bleep bleep caught her attention, refusing to let go.
When she turned, she saw Shila standing over her with her hand on Liza’s shoulder. She was looking at Boyd.
Liza blinked the sleep from her eyes. “Shila?”
She peeled her attention away from Boyd, then crouched down in front of Liza. “Hey, little one.” She smiled.
But looking into Shila’s eyes, all Liza wanted to do was cry. “How did you know?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t hear from you last night, so this morning I went to Uncle Ts before school.”
Liza laughed. “You woke up Uncle T?”
“Of course. I needed to find my friend.”
Now to that, Liza smiled. “Thank you.”
Shila gave a quick nod. “Always.” She turned to Boyd, standing up as Liza did the same.
Liza stepped to the bed, reading over the vitals monitor. Everything looked normal.
“What happens now?” asked Shila.
“It’s just a waiting game.” She turned to Shila. “Just hoping he wakes up soon.”
Shila pulled Liza into her embrace. “I’m so sorry.” Liza folded into her arms. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”
Liza nodded, and her tears pricked in her eyes. She wiped them away, breaking the embrace. “Does Cody know?” Liza swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Not yet. I just found out myself.”
“Okay,” said Liza when Uncle T walked in. They both looked at him as he walked to the bed, assessing his brother.
He made the sign of the cross, then kissed his fingers. He turned to Liza. “No change?”
Liza shook her head. “None. Unless something happened when I was sleeping, but I don’t think so.”
Uncle T nodded. He looked at Boyd, then at Liza. He said nothing. Looked like he was about to speak, but the words never left his lips.
Liza cleared her throat. “What’s the plan for today?” She knew Uncle T wouldn’t divulge information with Shila present, but Liza was hoping for at least a cryptic message.
“Two things need to happen today.”
“Okay.”
“First, you need to go to school.”
Liza looked at him like he was insane. Uncle T put his hand up to cease any unwanted arguments.
“Go to the principal and tell him what’s going on. Get permission to talk to your teachers and get all your schoolwork.” He paused, allowing the information to sink in. “It’ll give you something to do while you’re here. I’ll stay with him until you get back.” He gazed at Liza directly in her eyes. “You remember what I said yesterday about what could happen?”
Liza nodded.
“We need to act accordingly until everything is smooth sailing. Understood?”
“One hundred percent.”
Uncle T nodded, turning his attention to Boyd. “Good. Second, go home and get cleaned up. Grab some stuff to bring with you.” He turned to Liza. “Not sure how long you’ll be here, but between me and…” He gestured to Shila. “Your friends, we can take turns to give you a reprieve.”
Liza looked at her father, then to Uncle T. She nodded.
“Go.” He gestured to the door.
“Come on,” said Shila. “I’ll go with you.”
“Thank you.” Liza took her coat from off the chair, squeezed her arms through the sleeves, then followed Shila. Uncle T called her back before she stepped through the door.
“Make sure you keep that with you. None of us is safe until this situation is finished. Understood?”
Liza looked around the room and nodded. She looked at Boyd, then Uncle T. “Take care of him, please.”
Uncle T nodded. “I will.”
Chapter 62
Jerry stood on the stoop of Taylor Braidwood’s home and rang the doorbell. Taylor was Esta Flannery’s sister. Jerry had questioned her after the murder and Taylor had been forthcoming with information, wanting to catch her sister’s killer as much-and maybe even more-than Jerry.
He hoped that after such a long period that perhaps Taylor’s hindsight would shed some light on the murder and perhaps offer a lead to how Play Dead was selecting his victims.
If there is one to be found.
Captain Lufton was right. The switchboard lit up like a Christmas Tree, but most of the calls were from concerned citizens and the rest were more than likely dead leads, although Jerry had a group of flatfoots following up on those dead leads. Things were picking up, and he was hoping one of those leads would bear fruit.
Taylor opened the door a second later.
“I had a feeling I’d be seeing you today.”
Jerry asked to come in, to which Taylor obliged, and asked him if he wanted something to drink-Jerry declined-then offered him a seat on the couch.
“My son said you’re getting a lot of leads and phone calls. Hopefully, something comes through.”
Jerry paused for a second, confused.
Taylor said, “He’s a cop.”
Now he remembered. For the life of him, he didn’t know how he forgot that little tidbit. Forgot more than likely because he never questioned him-Michael was his name, although the surname differed from Taylors. Taylor never married Michael’s father. After the murder, Michael provided a statement, although nothing ever came out of it. He didn’t have more than a passing relationship with his aunt and didn’t know about her day-to-day activities.
“Forgot about that. Yes, a lot of leads. We’re going through everything with a fine-tooth comb.”
“I’m sure.” Taylor had a cup of coffee nestled between her palms. She blew on it, then took a sip while Jerry took out a pencil and his notepad.
“What questions do you have today, detective?”
Jerry flipped the cover over on his notepad. He locked eyes with Taylor. “I’d like to know more about her hobbies and activities. Things she was interested in, and I’d really like to know about her friends and acquaintances, especially if she ever mentioned a new friend or hobby she was getting into.”
“Because you believe the killer knew her and that she knew him?”
Jerry paused.
Taylor shrugged, placing her mug on the coffee table. “That was apparent from your news conference.”
Jerry nodded, and then the question-and-answer session began. Unfortunately, no new information had come to light. Taylor was just as baffled as Jerry.
Esta had her circle of close friends-people Jerry planned on re-interviewing too-but she had known all of them for decades, and she had no romantic entanglements. Taylor would have known. She was very close to her sister.
When they were finished, Jerry still had no additional leads. A result that was as frustrating as it was disappointing. He was hoping for something more and had been confident that this conversation would reveal an eye-opening revelation. No such revelation occurred.
“You’re trying to figure out how he’s selecting his victims. Or rather, why he’s selecting these particular women.”
“If there even is a pattern. Everything we’ve seen so far suggests he picks at random.”
Taylor shook her head. “But you don’t agree with that assumption?”
Jerry shook his head. “I mean, yes, it’s definitely possible and needs to be considered, but… there’s…”
“Something nagging at your instincts telling you that assumption is wrong?”
“Correct.” Jerry flipped his notebook closed and gathered his things. Taylor walked him to the door. “I’ll be in touch if I have additional questions, and if you think of anything, please call me.” He didn’t need to provide the number; Taylor already had it.
She opened the door for him at the same time another visitor shuffled up the stoop.
“Michael,” said Taylor. “It’s always nice to see you.”
Michael was six feet tall, with short brown hair and brown eyes. He was wearing his uniform. “I got a few hours before my shift. Figured we can eat lunch together.”
Jerry noticed Michael eyeballed him with suspicion. Obviously, there was a strange man walking out of his mother’s house. Jerry introduced himself.
“He’s the detective on Aunt Esta’s case.”
“I recognize him.” He looked at Jerry. “If you need any help, let me know. I’d be more than happy to help in any way I can.”
“Would love to have you, but you know we can’t. Too personal. Captain Lufton would never agree.”
Michael nodded, then shrugged. “Well, anything I can do, just let me know.”
“Jerry was just leaving,” said Taylor, then gestured inside. “Come on in. I’ll make some sandwiches.”
“Sounds good.” He looked at Jerry and offered his hand. “Good luck.”
“Thank you.” Jerry took his hand and everything stopped. His instincts wiggled into his gut.
The same sensation stayed with him as he walked to his car.
