Monster-in-law

So far, Miranda has been raising the son of her ex-lover, Dougie. Dougie disappeared without a trace and Miranda was granted temporary custody of Waylon. Now, Dougie has returned and she is afraid that he is back for the boy. When one of Waylon's teachers is brutally murdered, Dougie is the prime suspect. Miranda knows Dougie is capable of a lot of things, but murder isn't one of them.

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I call Mitch before I go to bed. I hate for things to be hanging in the air like they are. If I have to apologize to Mitch, I will. The fact that it never even crossed my mind to tell him Dougie was awake, makes me pause. If the shoe had been on the other foot, I would have been all bent out of shape. It's not that I don't think Mitch will search for the real killer, that's not it at all. It's the fact that he thinks he has already found him. If I defend Dougie too much, Mitch will think I'm still in love with him. I wonder if Dougie's prints were the only ones found on the hammer. Was there blood on his clothing? From the description of the deceased, there would be a fair amount of blood spatter on Dougie.

"Hey," he says, letting a little yawn tag onto the end of his greeting. "Sorry about earlier."

"Forget about that," I say hastily. "Was there blood on Dougie when he was found?"

"Some, yes."

"Consistent with bashing someone's skull in? Was there blood on his forearm, his pants?"

"I'll have to check the crime scene photos. Why? What are you getting at?"

"Can I come to the station tomorrow, before work, and look at them?"

"Geezus, Miranda, you don't want to see those things. You'll have nightmares."

"I already have nightmares, Mitch. Ed Preston pops up in my dreams like clockwork. I can handle it."

He goes silent for a few seconds. I know he's trying to shelter me, but I can handle it. To just look at that kind of photo for curiosity would be morbid. I want to see what the first cop on the scene saw. I want to be there right after it happened. The only way for that to happen is to see the photos.

"Come before eight. I don't want anybody else in the office when you're there. Got it?"

"Yes, sir. Mitch, I know this is a big deal. Thank you for trusting me and my instincts."

"Well, Tiger, you do have good instincts. Maybe you should become a cop," he teases.

"Thanks, but you know I have a problem following orders," I say, letting a flirtatious little lilt ease into my voice.

"Well, yes, there is that. Go on to bed and turn off that over active brain of yours. I'll see you at seven-thirty. Love you."

"Love you, too." I hang up the phone and look over at Waylon who is curled up on the couch, headphones on and almost asleep. As much as I want Dougie gone out of my life, I have to do this for Waylon. I go over to him and drape the afghan from the back of the couch over him.

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I stop by the Patterson Deli for two cups of coffee and two biscuits to take with me. I glance around the deli. Lots of business folks, checking their phones while they wait for their orders to be called up. I shudder when a familiar face comes into view.

"Elaine," I say, trying to conceal the bitter taste the name leaves in my mouth. "They get rid of the teacher's lounge?"

"When did you become an early riser?" she says, a disdainful sneer on her face.

"When I stopped having to wait up for a wayward, cheating husband to come home." I smile, knowing she can't top that one.

She looks around, then back at me. "How is Waylon's father?"

"He's getting there. He woke up a couple of days ago. Remembers very little about what happened. But, I think it will come to him, gradually.

She looks up when they call her name, steps away to grab her coffee, then comes back. "I hope so, Miranda. You may not have liked Dennis Tomlin, but he didn't deserve what happened to him. He went out of his way to help a lot of students. So, if you're trying to figure out what happened, don't just try to clear your boyfriend, try to find out who actually killed Dennis."

I look into Elaine's eyes and for the first time I see a human being, not a prude, not a monster-in-law, but a person who lost someone she truly cared about.

"That's what I want to."

She doesn't say goodbye or kiss my ass, just turns and walks away. After several mind blown minutes I hear the barista calling my name.

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Mitch unlocks the door and takes the coffee carrier from my hands. "I made coffee, didn't know you were bringing some," he says, then leads me to his office.

The top of his desk is littered with photos. Before pictures of Dennis Tomlin show a smiling man, in a pale blue golf shirt. He looks innocent enough. But then, looks can be deceiving. I lift the school picture and shudder. The hard lines of the black and white crime scene pictures leave nothing to the imagination. "Oh, my God," I whisper. "Who could do that?"

"Guess that's what we are trying to find out," he says, taking the photo out of my shaking hand.

"Where are the pictures of Dougie?" I ask, trying to shake off the queasiness that rolls through me.

Mitch digs through them. "Here."

There are six photos of Dougie. One of the hammer in his hand, one of how he is laying on the ground. One of his truck, and the tires marks from where he pulled over, and the rest are just different angles of his on the ground.

"Look at his arms, Mitch. There isn't much blood on his arm. With all the blood from Tomlin, how did so little get on Dougie. It doesn't make sense."

"I think I'll go visit with Dougie," Mitch says. He watches me, waiting for how I'll react.

"I think that's a good idea. Maybe he'll remember more." I look over the pictures once more. Dougie holding onto the hammer, while his left arm is pinned beneath his back. Dougie's right arm, with just a few splatters of blood. "Why was his arm bent like that?"

"Maybe he was trying to break his fall, or," he pauses and looks up. "Someone grabbed him from behind...then hit him."

I kiss his mouth. "Good luck." I say, glancing at the clock on the wall. "I'm gonna clear out before everyone starts showing up. Can you come to the house for a beer tonight?"

"Rain check. Sasha and Molly are coming over for dinner and a movie tonight. But tomorrow night, I'll be there, I'll even bring the beer." He kisses the tip of my nose and walks me to the door. "And, before you ask, I'll call you with anything new from Dougie."