Finding Our Reality (The Reality Duet #2)

Chapter 17

CRUTCH

Fortunately, Lulu was kidding about the breast part. Knowing My Lulu is full of piss and vinegar, I half expected her to be wearing a crop top when I picked her up. We’re going through a two-week cold snap right now, and it’s freezing outside. I really don’t think I’d be strong enough to see her cleavage and frozen nipples. And wasn’t looking forward to it.

Well, I was.

But you know what I mean. Thinking of her body only makes functioning like a normal human being more difficult.

We pull up in front of the brick office building, and I reach around in the back seat, grabbing my vest. Jumping out of the truck, I quickly put it on while making my way over to the passenger’s side, hoping Lulu will let me help her for once. I’m not quick enough, and she bounces down from the seat with her notebook, pen, folder, and phone in tow.

“Chivalry isn’t dead, you know? I can still help you out of the truck. You used to let me do it all the time.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Well, if that’s the rule…” Her voice trails off, laden with sexual innuendo. Quickly realizing that she’s supposed to hate me, she wipes the playful smile from her face and leaves me standing there.

Damn if I don’t miss playful Lulu. She was always a hell of a lot of fun.

Jogging to the door, I quickly open it for her. Stepping to the side, she politely lets me take the lead. The lobby is filled with some workers, but thankfully, it looks to be customer-free. The receptionist does a double take when she notices me and the phone drops from her hand, clattering across the desk. I side glance at Lulu, watching in amusement as she rolls her eyes.

“How may I assist you?” The lady stands, playing with the beads of her necklace.

“Ma’am,” I nod, folding my hands in front of me. “We have an appointment to see Chris—”

“Crutch!”

Our attention immediately turns to the left, where Christina emerges from an open office. At least I think it’s Christina. She looks like a completely different person. I pulled up her DMV photo before our meeting so I knew she looked better than twelve years ago, but seeing her in person is completely surprising. And refreshing. She’s dressed in nice clothes with gold bracelets that jingle when she walks. Her hair is clean and styled, her makeup perfect. She’s a healthy weight, maybe even a little on the plump side. She actually seems happy to see me. Before I know what’s happening, she’s wrapping me in a hug. When she pulls away, I can see some of the small scars that still dot her face, but the makeup does a good job at hiding most of it.

“It’s so good to see you. I’ve actually thought about you a lot over the years. Especially when I heard you became a detective. I always wanted to reach out. Just never did.”

“Christina, you look phenomenal.”

She smiles and her smile widens even more when she catches a glimpse of the man walking out of the office that’s next to hers. “Crutch, I’d like you to meet my husband, Donnie Poland. Donnie, this is Ryland Crutchfield.” She turns back to me. “I’m sorry, do we need to call you Detective or something?”

“We’ve known each other since I started kindergarten. Crutch is fine.” I turn, holding out my hand to Lulu.

“Ella Hill,” she introduces herself. “Nice to see you again, Christina.”

Christina’s eyes cloud with confusion. “Again?”

Lulu shifts on her feet but holds her back stiff and straight. “We met once. A long time ago. At a party.”

Christina looks over to me, questioning, “Trash’s?”

I nod in confirmation before she turns back to Lulu. “I wish I could say it was nice to meet you again, but there’s a lot from those days I don’t remember. So, I’ll just say it’s nice to meet you now.”

Lulu smiles and nods. “Sounds good to me.”

Donnie wraps an arm around Christina. “We cleared out the conference room. Shall we?”

“Ella Hill? That name sounds familiar. Are you related to Carrie? Is that why you’re here? Are you with the sheriff’s department too?”

I hold out a rolling chair for Lulu. She stares at me, debating whether or not to accept my help, before she finally sits down. “I’m Carrie’s sister. I’m working a consulting assignment with the department regarding my sister’s case.”

“Carrie’s sister.” Christina’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of us, as she tries to pull her memories to the forefront of her brain. “Wait, didn’t the two of you date?”

Hell yeah, we did.

I don’t answer, leaving that ball in Lulu’s ballpark.

She rubs the back of her neck. “We dated briefly, many years ago, before Ryland joined the service.”

Christina nods, smiling like she knows a secret. “All the girls were furious you got snatched up, Crutch.” She turns to Lulu, laughing. “Rumor had it, he was head over heels for you.”

Hell yeah, I was.

Reaching over, Donnie laces his fingers with Christina’s. “Sweetie.”

“Sorry. I talk when I get nervous.”

I try to calm her. “That’s okay. There’s nothing to be nervous about. We’re just here to ask some questions about what all was happening in your life around the time Carrie went missing. We’ve run across some new evidence, so we’re just following up on information. Sometimes, a little bit of time helps everyone put things into perspective, allows them to revisit events that might not have seemed significant back then.”

“I’m ready to help in any way possible.”

I lean forward, spreading my hands across the table. “Some of the questions we ask may be a little sensitive in nature. Perhaps some privacy will provide a level of comfort.” I nod at Donnie.

Christina squeezes her husband’s hand. “I appreciate the concern, but Donnie knows all about my past. He pulled me from the brink of hell, knows every dirty little detail. Unless you have a rule against him staying, I would like for him to be here.”

“Okay.” I gain permission to record the interview and start with all of Christina’s background questions. We talk about her childhood, where she grew up, her descent into drug use, her partying with my brother and Trey, her run-ins with Carrie. “So, think back to the summer when Carrie went missing. Did anything strike you as unusual about that time?”

“Well, the beginning of that year is when I had my third child. By the start of the summer, he was already in the system, living in a foster home. I’m just thankful the same family took him in as my other boys. They were all together, so that’s one small blessing. Other than that, I was just in the throes of addiction. Using every day. Working one meager job after another, trying to make money to score. Partying with Trey, day and night. Sleeping with him, begging for product when I was too broke to buy anything on my own.”

“You don’t remember anything unusual about Trey during that time?”

She scoffs. “Trey was always unusual. He was a drug dealer.”

I glance over at Donnie, hoping he’s prepared himself. “Was Trey the father of any of your children?”

Christina shifts in her seat. “Yes. He was the biological originator of my third son.”

Well, I’ve never heard that terminology used before.

“Is there any sense of connection there? That you would keep something from the police, anything that involved Trey, because he was the father of your son?”

Her face grows serious. “Trey was never a father. Donnie is the father to my three boys, in every single way that matters.”

Donnie wraps his arm around Christina again. “Our family counselor encouraged us to use the word ‘originator’ because our son couldn’t bring himself to call Trey his father. I can assure you that there is no sense of allegiance between Christina and Trey. Or anyone from her past, for that matter.”

I nod. “He never mentioned what he thought happened to Carrie?”

“He just said that she probably had a bad trip, wandered off in the woods, and died.” She glances over at Lulu. “I’m sorry to be so blunt. It must be painful to hear.”

Lulu looks up from her notebook, smiling sadly. “Please continue.”

“They found her car in a parking lot by some woods, right? I guess that’s why the explanation seemed plausible. All I know is that you didn’t talk about it…ever. Trey didn’t like anyone talking about Carrie or asking questions about her.”

“Why is that?”

“Because the police came around asking about her. Because of the gas station thing. The gas station drew police attention to Carrie and that drew attention to Trey and the whole operation. And that made him nervous. He thought the gas station was becoming a liability. He thought Trash wasn’t taking his role seriously, that he wasn’t screening his customers closely enough. They couldn’t stop the video feed, the owner of the station refused to do away with the video cameras. He didn’t know about the drugs, you know? Anyway, Trey thought Trash was being reckless. At first, he was happy when Trash brought Carrie around. He was excited to have a girl pushing on the university campus. He only had a few fraternity guys pushing back then. When Carrie went missing, he told Trash that he never should’ve brought her into the mix.”

“And that went for everyone? No one talked to Trey about Carrie?”

Christina shudders. “You remember how he was. He killed that one guy. Sure, they called it self-defense, but we all knew it was murder. No one wanted to go against Trey’s wishes. He didn’t want anyone to talk about Carrie, so we didn’t.”

“What about Trash? Did he ever tell you what he thought happened to Carrie?”

She shakes her head. “He just said the same thing as Trey—that Carrie went off on her own. He said she probably ran away.”

“What can you tell us about Carrie?”

She nervously looks over at Lulu, seeking permission. “It’s fine, Christina. Tell the truth. You won’t offend me,” Lulu says.

“Well, she was beautiful, of course. All the guys wanted to be with her. She was refined, mature, confident. She was in deep, sure, but she was still a newborn compared to most of us. She hadn’t crossed that line yet, where the drug use was all-consuming. She still functioned, lived that part of her life in secret. I’m assuming you didn’t even know she had a problem, right?”

Lulu nods. Just once. “You’re right, I didn’t.”

“We all start out that way. A little here, a little there. Some people can live that way for years and years before it becomes the complete DNA of your life, ruling every single second of every single day. Carrie wasn’t there yet. She was on a runaway train, headed in that direction, but she wasn’t there yet.” She reaches out, grabbing Lulu’s hand. “I think she could’ve been saved. Before she reached that point, I mean.”

Lulu lifts her chin in the air, politely nodding before sliding her hand from Christina’s grasp. She never liked to be touched by strangers.

I change the subject. “Do you still take pictures, Christina?”

Donnie smiles proudly. “She’s a wonderful photographer. Started a little side business a few years ago. Wedding pictures, Christmas cards. Her work is beautiful.”

Time to get down to business. We pull out the photograph copies and go through them one by one. Christina quickly confirms they came from her camera, that she was the one behind the lens. She even remembers the night. We pause before we get to the last picture.

“Do you remember what happened after this picture?”

“Oddly enough, I do remember that. Trey’s supplier was coming over so we all had to leave. We went over to Trash’s trailer. I realized I forgot my camera, and I wanted to go back to get it. I thought I could make it there before the supplier showed up. I took Trash’s car and drove back. The door was locked so I had to knock. Trey didn’t like that. Not one bit. The supplier was already there. When I asked for my camera, Trey punched me in the face and pushed me down the stairs. I twisted my ankle. Went back to Trash’s and got completely wasted to help with the pain.”

Donnie clenches his jaw, thinking about his wife getting hit.

I sit forward in my seat. “You were there when the supplier was there? And you’re sure it was the supplier and not someone else?”

“Trey wouldn’t have cared if someone else was there. It was only the supplier he protected that much.”

“Did you actually see the supplier?”

She shakes her head. “No, of course not.”

“What about a car? Anything like that?”

“No, I’m sorry, I’ve never been good with cars. But I also wasn’t the most observant person back then, as you can imagine.”

I look over at Lulu, getting her silent permission to proceed with the last picture. She blinks. Sometimes I can easily read her mind. Other times, it’s like she’s hidden behind an impenetrable curtain.

“Okay, Christina, this is the last picture we have to show you. I warn you. It’s explicit.”

Her eyes widen in fear. “Okay.” Both she and Donnie lean forward, looking at the picture. Shock and horror etch across their faces. It’s clear as day that Christina has never seen this picture before. Donnie leans back, refusing to look at the horrible image.

Christina wipes tears from her eyes and stutters over her question. “Is… is Carrie being… raped?”

“Yes.” I point at the perpetrator. “Do you know who that is, Christina? Is there anything familiar about him?”

She reluctantly looks back at the picture. Even blurred, the scene is graphic. I hate showing it to people. I hate putting Lulu through that.

“No, I have no idea who that is. I can’t believe that happened to Carrie. I had hope for her, hope that she would avoid what so many of us went through.”

Lulu’s eyes dart to mine. Her face grows long and serious, her voice full of concern and question. “So many of you? What are you saying, Christina? Were you sexually assaulted?”

Donnie reaches over, firmly holding his wife’s hand. The sad smile on Christina’s face tells me everything I need to know. I’m sure Lulu’s seen that same face before. “I was an addict for over five years. You can’t put yourself in those circumstances and not have something like that happen to you.”

Anger swirls in my stomach, fucking pissing me off. “Trey and who? Trash?” I swear on all that’s holy, if my brother raped this woman—any woman—he won’t be able to walk by nightfall.

“No, not Trash. He always talked crap about women, their bodies. But he was more concerned with getting high than chasing women. He was always ready for a roll in the sack, don’t get me wrong, but he waited for the women to come to him. Willingly.” She tries to make light of the situation. “You know your brother never liked to work all that hard.”

“Who then?”

She cocks her head to the side, speaking to me slowly and softly, like a child. “Crutch, it’s nothing to chase after. Trey is already gone. And the others? I don’t even know who they are. I remember the faces of some, but don’t know their names. I know nothing about them. Others are just shadows, blurs. Leaving nothing in their wake but a sore feeling between my legs.”

I look over at Donnie. He’s handling this better than me. I guess Christina wasn’t lying when she said he knew everything about her past. I sigh, sitting back in my chair. “That doesn’t mean they should get away with it.”

“No, it doesn’t. But what’s more important to me now is making sure that no one else goes through what I went through. Addiction can be prevented. If you never start, you never have to worry about stopping.”

I try to calm myself, absorbing her words. When I don’t say anything, Lulu takes over, bringing the interview back on course.

“So, going back to the picture, you weren’t present when this picture was taken?”

“No.”

“Did Trey know how to operate your camera?”

“Well, he saw me use it plenty of times, but I never saw him even pick it up. It simply didn’t interest him.”

I nod at Lulu, wordlessly thanking her for taking over, before I ask the next question. “In your opinion, did Trey take this picture?”

“No.”

“Do you have any idea who might have been there that night besides the supplier and Trey?”

“The only person who was there when we left was Carrie. She was passed out.” Tears fall from her eyes. “Ella, I’m so sorry I left her behind.”

Donnie reaches over to a side table, grabbing a box of tissues. I give Christina a few moments to compose herself. “Carrie was in possession of these pictures. Why did you develop them and give them to her? I’m not understanding how you never saw the assault picture before. Did you just forget about seeing it?”

“Not just that picture. I’ve never seen any of these pictures before.”

“What?”

“I didn’t develop these pictures. When I went back the next day to get my camera, the memory card was gone. I was furious because I had just put a new one in.” She takes a deep breath. “I had a huge bruise on my face from where Trey hit me. I guess he felt bad about it because he bought me a new card. I’m guessing whoever took the memory card developed the pictures.”

“And was Carrie there? The next day?”

“No, she was already gone.”

Who the hell took the memory card and developed these pictures?

We all sit in silence for a minute, absorbing that information.

Lulu has stopped taking notes. She’s just sitting back, studying Christina, and rubbing the scar on her neck. “What happened? How did you go from there to here?”

“Well, after the raid, when Trey was arrested, I was sent to court-ordered rehab. Long term. Six months. Fortunately, it stuck with me that time. Afterward, I got a waitressing job, and that’s where I met Donnie.”

He chuckles. “I asked her out and she said no. I went there for lunch every single day for two months straight. Finally, she caved.”

“I was completely forthcoming on our very first date. I basically gave him my complete life story. I never expected to hear from him again. But he showed up at the restaurant the next day, asking me out again. A couple of months later, I came to work for him at the insurance company. He helped me get my boys out of foster care.”

She smiles at her husband. “The rest is history. We married. He adopted all three of my boys. They are sixteen, fifteen, and thirteen now. And we have a little girl. She just turned eight.”

She smiles at me, genuinely happy. “Everything I went through led me right to this place, Crutch. As crazy as it sounds, I wouldn’t change a thing.” She sighs in contentment. “I go to regular counseling sessions, twice a week. One by myself, and then we attend a family session, all of us. It was really important for me to give the boys a way to come to grips with all I put them through. I was a horrible mother for many years, and I wanted to give them a safe environment in which to discuss that. I didn’t want them to turn to drugs and alcohol like I did. I do outreach through our church, talking to others about addiction. In fact, I’m speaking at a juvenile detention center in South Alabama next week, giving my testimony.” Christina smiles, wiping the leftover tears from her eyes. “Once a month we have dinner with the foster parents who took my boys in when I was unfit. I’m even a classroom volunteer at my daughter’s school. Me . It’s all a dream come true.”

We end the interview with Christina, and I know that Lulu is reeling from all the information because she actually lets me open the truck door for her. She’s not in the mood to talk so we don’t. If quiet is what My Lulu needs, then quiet is what she can have.

We’re parked back at the station before she breaks the silence. “Why didn’t you tell me your parents were in jail?”

I shrug. “I didn’t know it was important. Didn’t think it mattered.”

She turns in her seat, facing me. “Are they still on drugs?”

“They were up until they got arrested. They’re in the city jail right now. They run a pretty tight ship over there so I can’t imagine they have access to any contraband substances. I know the nursing staff had to give them some medication to help with withdrawals.”

“And what about Trash? Obviously, he’s not supposed to drink or use drugs while on probation.”

I scoff. “Laws never stopped him before; trust me, they aren’t stopping him now. He’s just being a little more discreet. But I can guarantee you he still uses. I don’t ever see an end in sight for him.”

She braces her arms on the console, pinning me in place with her penetrating stare. “If you stayed, do you think you would have turned to drugs? Become an addict? Is that the real reason you left me?”

Kill. Me. Now.

My voice catches in my throat, making me gag and choke. I have to cough twice to even get a word to come out. “Oh, Lulu.” I reach across, stroking the side of her face with my calloused thumb. “My letter was true. I left for you . Because it was the right thing to do for you . I was nothing but dead weight, dragging you down. Back then, I was nothing. Just some worthless kid with no idea of how to support a woman.”

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. And because I always do what I shouldn’t, I say it. “No idea how to support a wife.”

She pulls away from my hand. Her body shudders. “You’ll never understand, will you?”

“Understand what?”

“You weren’t worthless to me.”