Perfect Grave

Chapter Fifty-Eight

R yan Taylor and Justin Marshall were scared.

Within minutes of Detective Dominic Perelli’s call, the boys were standing in Rhonda Boland’s kitchen.

“Where’s Brady?” Justin said.

“It’s all right fellas. We’re working on that.” Perelli said. “We need your help.”

Ryan and Justin had been hurried to the house by their anxious mothers, Gayleen Taylor and Fanny Marshall, who had always pitied “poor Rhonda” behind her back. Such a tragic case. Widowed by a deadbeat who had the nerve to die in debt.

Gayleen and Fanny surveyed the activity, their fears mounting when they glimpsed Rhonda down the hall in the bedroom talking to two men in suits taking notes. Something worse, much worse, than a burglary had happened.

“What’s going on?” Fanny asked.

“A police investigation. We need your sons to help us,” Grace said.

“Help with what?” Gayleen asked.

“We need to speak to them privately about what they may have seen in the park the other day. We need to do it as quickly as possible.”

“Why, what happened in the park? What does this concern?” Fanny said. “Why won’t you tell us? You are going to frighten our boys. Where’s Brady?”

Grace nodded to Officers Lloyd and Vossek.

“Mrs. Taylor, Mrs. Marshall,” Lloyd said. “If you’d please come with us, we’ll explain.”

Grace and Perelli took the boys to the backyard, where they sat at a picnic table.

“Guys, you’re not in trouble, okay? We need your help,” Grace said. “This is extremely important. Do you remember going to the park with Brady the other day?”

“We go every day,” Ryan said.

“Do you recall a time recently where Brady talked to anyone, like a stranger, or a man at the park?”

“A couple days ago, there was a guy, some stranger,” Ryan said.

“Do you know him?”

Head shakes.

“What did he look like? Black guy, white guy? Tall? Fat? Tattoos?”

“White guy.”

“Old? Young?”

“Maybe like him”-Justin pointed at Perelli-“only skinnier.”

“And we saw him hanging around and stuff before,” Ryan said.

“When before?”

“A couple of days ago, I guess.”

“Something bad happened, didn’t it?” Justin asked.

Grace glanced at Kay Cataldo working at the window.

“Guys, what was the stranger doing in the park?”

“Sitting on a bench, reading a newspaper,” Justin said.

“And drinking coffee,” Ryan said.

“Drinking coffee? Like in a take-out cup?”

“I think so.”

“Want to go for a short ride in a detective car?” Grace said.

A few minutes later, they stood before the park bench where the stranger had sat.

The trash basket beside it was half-filled. Grace squatted, concentrating on the dates she saw on the discarded newspapers. The trash had not been emptied for several days.

“Guys, you said he was drinking coffee from a take-out cup.”

“He was drinking from that one,” Ryan said.

“Come closer, show me without touching.”

Ryan pulled his face to the trash, pointing to the red, white, and blue take-out cup under the plastic take-out bag.

Perelli and Grace exchanged glances.

It was the only red, white, and blue take-out cup in the trash.

“Are you sure, Ryan?”

“Yes, I saw him crumple it before he left.”

Grace was making notes.

“Did you see if he got into a car, or where he went?”

Justin and Ryan shook their heads.

“Can you remember, Ryan, was the man wearing gloves?”

“No gloves.”

Dial tones sounded. Perelli had turned away to call Kay Cataldo to get to their location fast.

“Uhm,” Justin said, “what happened to Brady?”

Grace looked at the boys.

“We’re working on that.”

Grace turned back to the cup, pulling it out carefully and holding it as if it were the Holy Grail.

“And this cup may give us the answer.”