Fatal Connections

Chapter 69

Sasha's information didn't provide much in the way of comfort, but it did provide possible leads to pursue. It also suggested a few potential scenarios. At least ones that weren't wholly implausible. At this point, I could probably tie my brain in knots trying to figure it all out.

According to Sasha, who came on shortly after Amy was born, 4-year-old Jaden reacted angrily to her being hired. It was obvious that he wanted more attention from his parents, and Sasha simply wasn't his Mommy.

"He didn't talk to me, at first," Sasha said. "I'll never forget that. He just shut me out. I'd never experienced anything like that before, especially from a four-year-old."

"But when I tried to talk to his parents, it was pretty clear I wasn't getting through. I mean, they're the parents. Aren't they supposed to do something? Isn't that their job? If it was, they weren't doing it, because no matter what I said, nothing changed."

"How about Amy?" I asked.

Sasha tut-tutted. "She was so cute. So little. But . . . when she got older, she became moody."

"Do you think she . . . ?" I tried to think of a nice way to say "suffered from depression."

"We-e-ll," she drew the word out. "She'd lapse into a funk now and then. But most of the time, I could tell her a story or sing a song, and she would snap out of it.

"Toward the end of my time working for the Harcourts, Amy and I got along fine. Jaden, well . . . actually, both kids struck me as being seriously insecure. It got to the point where I suggested counseling for them, because they seemed to need something like that." She inhaled loudly enough for me to hear and added, "A lot of good that did."

"And the police know this?" I asked.

"Yeah . . . ." Her voice faded. "Thing is, I'm not sure they got the whole picture."

The line went silent. This is why I hate interviewing by phone. What was going on? Was she digging out an old journal? Or making faces at the phone? Or had she hung up?

Finally, a suppressed sob came over the line. "Sometimes I wonder. Should I have told someone? Reported them? For what, taking vacations with their kids? I mean, what's my job here? And what's my obligation? They were the parents. They made the rules. Would the kids have been better off in foster care? No way. What could I do? I had a job, bills to pay, and my own child. So . . . what do you do in a case like that?"

You survive, I thought. And you live with your decision.

"The best you can," I said.

"And then, there was Aunt Phyllis."

That stopped me. "What?" I had no recollection of an Aunt Phyllis. "Whose sister was it?"

"She wasn't a blood relative. She was more like a close friend of the family. They called her Aunt Phyllis."

"So what was the problem with Aunt Phyllis?"

"Honestly, she seemed like a bad influence. When it came to the kids, Aunt Phyllis had this way of encouraging bad behavior."

I couldn't tell if this was the truth or if Sasha was just being judgy. But it seemed like an interesting new lead.

"What's Phyllis's last name?"

"Let me think. Akins? Atkins? No. Atkinson. That's it."

Phyllis Atkinson? "Hang on a sec," I said. I flipped back to my copies of Gallagher's handwritten notes. PA. Phyllis Atkinson? Definitely a person of interest.

"Did Aunt Phyllis visit often?"

"For a while, yeah. Until the kids started school. After that, she kind of disappeared. From what I gathered, it was after a big blowup over something. The kids weren't shocked so much as disappointed."

"You don't have a photo, do you?"

"God, no." Sasha laughed. "But I can describe her. About six feet tall and outdoorsy. And, forgive my lack of PC, but I'd say she was mannish."

Holy shit.

"Did the cops ask you about Aunt Phyllis?"

She paused. "I don't think so. In fact, I'd forgotten about how much she affected those kids until just now."

After I finished the call with Sasha, I took another look at my notes. Now my previously scrambled thoughts began coagulating into a vague theory. One that bothered me for reasons I preferred not to think about.

I finished up work with a quick background check for another client. I provide the service through an online marketing platform for freelancers. Yeah, the gig economy at work, folks. Five bucks a pop. Made me wonder why I still wanted that private eye license. Maybe for the same reason I did anything. Seemed like a good idea at the time.

The next day, I checked the local news regarding recent events at the petting zoo. I found an item on page one of the local section. The feds had raided Embrace the Wild.

This was after reports of an after-hours shooting on the premises. Among those arrested were the owners Reverend Arthur Leland and Benjamin Mulligan. Along with the ever-so-helpful Hannah Broomfield. There was a whole lot more to the story at the state and federal level.

So, the BM from Gallagher's notes more than likely stood for Benjamin Mulligan. And whatever Gallagher discussed with Calhoun and Douglas, it probably got him killed. While reading the article, I looked for a reference to Phyllis Atkinson. Or a second unidentified woman. There was none.

"Who are you?" I muttered to myself. "And how many people have you killed lately?"