232. Nothing More, Nothing Less

Bridgeport, present day...

They were dropping the investigation, that's what the detective said, and it was the last thing Mrs. Clarke wanted to hear.

She got up from the table and paced to the only window in their motel room, their home for the past few weeks. A thick crust of dust covered the window pane, obscuring the outside world, but if she strained her eyes long enough, she could vaguely make out shadows moving, cars speeding by, people rushing up and down the sidewalk to their various destinations. Life, in its usual cruel, slow pace, carried on, taunting her, reminding her she could never go back, never hold her baby girl again, and never see her smile.And the Frosts would always have Michaela, and in just a few weeks a new baby too. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right!

She didn't realize she'd spoken her thoughts out loud until she felt three pairs of eyes on her, her husband's and the two detectives’.

"Mrs. Clarke, we did everything we could, followed all the leads, looked into the Frosts, but so far there's nothing tying them to your children’s-"

Cindy raised her hand, silencing Detective Richards before he could finish his piece. She was sick of his excuses, sick of his apologies. She wanted justice for her children. She wanted closure. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Is it because we are not celebrities? We don't have enough money and power? What? What is it? Tell me what we have to do to get justice for our children? Tell me!" Cindy could barely keep her anger in check now; she bunched up her hands into tight fists and approached the table again, this time though she looked much more menacing.

John Clarke, silent throughout the meeting, left his seat abruptly, and reached for his wife before she could throw herself at the detectives. 

She fell into his arms in a clumsy mess and wailed loudly over his shoulder. Instinctively he pulled her closer to his slight frame to comfort her.

"It's over, let's just go home, honey," he kissed the top of her head, wishing he'd done a better job of protecting his family. If he'd just paid more attention to his son, if he'd just taken an interest in him, maybe he would not have been at that dive bar that night, and maybe Michaela would not have run into him and changed him. Maybe none of this would have happened. But the truth is his son, even as a little boy, had always carried darkness with him, making it hard for anyone to love him or want to get close to him. So when Joshua hit his teens and spent less and less time at home, John had been oddly relieved. They all were-

"They were good kids, they didn't deserve this," Cindy's hoarse voice brought him back to the room.

"I know that, but we can’t ignore the truth. What Joshua did to the Frost girl was wrong," he tried to make her understand that their son was just as guilty, but Cindy wouldn't be swayed. As far as she was concerned, the only bad person in this equation was Michaela, if she hadn't attacked Joshua, none of this would have happened.

"She tried to kill him and when that didn't work, they tried to pay us off."

"That's not true," John denied it, halfheartedly though. The idea of a payoff had crossed his mind as well. The timing of the raffle ticket was too perfect, just when Eli needed funds for college. But she'd been so excited, believed in fate and rather than disappoint her and take away her dreams, they'd gone along with the lie, celebrated her good fortune. Besides, they could never prove the Frosts were behind the raffle ticket.

"When will you wake up and see it was payoff John? They are very clever. They didn't want us to go to the police and get their precious child in trouble!"

"We don't know that! We don't know they were behind the raffle!” John shook his head again and again as if, if he denied it long enough everything would miraculously vanish along with all the complications in their lives.

The detectives cut in then, not because they wanted to stop the brewing fight, they were more curious about the raffle ticket and the payoff. This was the first time they were hearing of either.

It took them a few minutes to calm the Clarkes down and get them to sit again.Mrs. Clarke did most of the talking, going through the events in Hollow Creek leading up to this very moment.

As she took their statements, Detective Smith did her best to remain neutral, but once or twice she couldn't stop herself from shaking her head disapprovingly. The Clarke's had lied from day one about the nature of their relationship with the Frosts. When they approached Bridgeport’s police department, they’d told them the Frosts were sponsoring their son's education at the time of his death, as a result Detective Smith and her partner had failed to see the Frosts as suspects.

"Why did you lie to us?" Detective Smith inquired when Mrs. Clarke finally paused for breath.

"We didn't lie, the Frosts were paying for Joshua's education," her retort was sharp and quick.

"But you failed to disclose the real reason for the arrangement," Richards interjected.

"We were protecting Joshua; we didn't want you to know all the horrible things he’d done. We didn't want you to know about the attempted rape!"

“There was an attempted rape?” Richards threw his hands up in the air. 

Sensing his displeasure Mrs. Clarke quickly filled them in about Appaloosa Plains.

"Is there more?" Detective Smith asked as she clicked off the recording device. She was looking at Mr. Clarke now; she'd lost interest in Mrs. Clarke and her half-truths.

Mr. Clarke held his bible lovingly in his hands. A minute passed, but it felt longer for the detectives, before he lifted his head and looked straight at Smith.

"Do you believe in God, Detective?"

The question caught the policewoman off-guard. She stuttered, mumbling something incomprehensible before she slowly nodded her head.

"Good," Mr. Clarke's smile lit up his entire face, shaving off a good few years, making him look younger than he was. "Let us pray." 

And just like that the meeting was over. There were no more talks of conspiracies and justice. Mr. Clarke led them in prayer and read a few scriptures from his worn bible. They were all about forgiveness.

After a reasonable time had passed, the two detectives left the Clarkes. They were nowhere closer to the truth, but they certainly had new leads to pursue. Hollow Creek was their first stop, they had to verify everything the Clarkes had told them. Appaloosa Plains was next. If the attempted rape and Mr. Summer’s assault on Joshua turned out to be true, then the Frosts certainly had motive to want him dead…

Long after the detectives had left, Mr. and Mrs. Clarke were still talking about God and forgiveness.

And forgiveness was something Cruz, just a door down from the Clarkes, cared little about then as he tried yet again to hack into MorcuCorp’s firewall.

Though they’d been neighbors for the past few weeks, Cruz had never met the Clarkes, and he probably never would.

They had nothing in common. They came from different worlds.

They were strangers, in a strange town, holed up in the same strange motel.

But all three were looking for the same thing. Some sort of closure. A way to reclaim the lives they’d lost.

And all three were orbiting towards the same cataclysmic ending…

AN: I realize that some of you might not remember, but the story-line on the raffle ticket and the payoff was introduced in Path of Thorns, in Volume 4, and it was mentioned again in Out In the Open and Should Have Left It Alone, in Volume 5. It's not necessary to reread the chapters, but they connect the rest of the updates.

As always, thank you for taking an interest in Krisis.