She Never Came Home

Chapter 14

"I know that this is an extremely difficult time for you both," DeWitt said to Rich and Chuck as they peered over the railing of the bridge. So far below them, it looked like a team of worker ants methodically marking the area with yellow Crime Scene tape.

"What," Chuck replied. It was less of a question and more of a challenge.

"There is a process," Dwayne continued, "in these types of situations. Right now, the forensic team has to preserve as much evidence as possible." He paused to make sure the two men were paying attention to what he was saying. "That's why – "

"Yeah, yeah, that's why they're putting Zip-Loc baggies on my sister's hands!" Chuck shot back. He turned his head away from the activities going on below and struggled to catch his breath.

"It's unfortunate and indignant, I agree," Detective DeWitt said in a soft voice. "I know that if that was my relative, I wouldn't want her prodded and packaged like that. But that's the only way that we can collect evidence, to find out who did this to her."

"So what happens next?" Rich asked. His mind was still in a whirlwind – he was dreading going back to the Crowley house, where Carla and his mother-in-law... and father-in-law... would be inconsolable after hearing the news. And then there would be the funeral "arrangements" to be made. He had a quick mental flashback to the time when his father had died suddenly of a heart attack at work, and how it seemed like all anyone asked his mother was "Have you made any 'arrangements'?"

"By law," Dwayne explained, "before any post-mortem exam can begin the body must be officially identified by two people who knew the deceased. It doesn't necessarily have to be a next-of-kin, and the ID can be done via a video link, if preferred." He removed his wallet from his pants pocket and pulled a business card out. "This is the contact information for our Family Liaison Officer. That's the person who will phone you when the body is at the morgue and ready to be officially identified."

Richard took the card from the detective's hand and studied it without really seeing anything.

"The FLO will also assist you with any other procedural questions the family has," DeWitt continued.

"OK," Rich replied. He couldn't think of anything more to say at that moment. Half an hour later he and Chuck got into their cars and headed back to the Crowley home.

They arrived almost simultaneously, but Chuck hesitated in the driveway after exiting his vehicle. He wasn't sure whether his family had heard the news yet, and if they had, he didn't know if he was up to ... talking about it, supporting them, whatever. He was still struggling to reconcile everything in his own mind.

Richard entered the house ahead of him. One glance at the living room told him that everyone had been advised of the situation. Joyce, Stephen, Chris and Carla were all alternately sobbing and embracing one another. When he stepped into the room he was almost knocked over by Carla and Joyce when they ran to him.

"Is it true? It's not really true, right? It's a mistake?" Carla gulped at him between sobs.

The look on his face was enough to make Joyce pull back and start crying anew. "My baby, oh no, my baby...."

Chuck entered the house and his father slowly approached him. The two looked at one another for a brief moment and then embraced, their tears soaking each other's shirt shoulders.

"Why? Why?! How?" Chris had started calling out randomly while pacing the room.

"Someone should call Claudia," Joyce said in an eerily composed voice just a few minutes later. She walked over to the sofa and sat down, but made no move toward the telephone.

"I'll do it," Carla said as she tried to compose herself.

"No, babe," Richard pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "Why don't you make some tea for all of us while I phone her."

"OK," Carla agreed, wringing her hands as she disappeared into the kitchen.

"We need to make some arrangements," Joyce continued speaking in a monotone. "I think Reeny would like to be buried in that pretty purple dress she wore to our anniversary party last year. Remember how beautiful she looked...?"

"Stop!" Stephen shouted suddenly. "Joyce, just stop it! We don't even know for sure it's her -" He paused and looked around the room, stopping and focusing his gaze on Chuck's face. His only son nodded slowly and sadly, and Stephen collapsed into a heap on the sofa.

Rich was about to pick up the telephone to make his call when it rang, startling him. "Hello?" he answered.

"Is this the Crowley residence?"

"Yes, it is," Richard replied. He immediately presumed it was the police calling with some information. Instead the voice on the other end said, "This is Bruce Davis with KSWB, can you tell me whether the police have any leads regarding Coreen's death?"

"Huh? What?" Rich was completely taken aback. "Who the hell is this?!"

"Bruce Davis, KSWB-TV. I wanted to find out – "

It took a moment for Richard to digest this information and to catch his breath, he was so enraged. "I don't know how the hell you got this phone number or your information, but go screw yourself." And with that he clicked the 'disconnect' button on the portable phone and then threw it hard against the top of the coffee table.

"Who was that?" Carla asked as she set down a tray full of cups and tea bags and a pot of boiling water on the coffee table.

"Some TV reporter," Richard huffed. "Asking about Coreen and the police..."

"What?!" Chris stood up. "How the hell did he know...?" He was suddenly consumed by a bout of coughing before he could finish his question.

Joyce had busied herself pouring the hot water into the cups and passing them out. "Maybe Chris could use some honey in his tea for his cough," she said to Carla. She had a faraway look on her face that worried her family.

"Here, I've got some of that 'cough medicine' I used in his tea before," Carla replied, removing a bottle of Old Grandad from the liquor cabinet.

Chris poured a bit of the liquor into his tea and welcomed the warmth that soothed that annoying, tickling cough reflex in the back of his throat. Richard stood up suddenly and grabbed a shot glass from the cupboard. He held it out to Carla and told her, "Give me some of that cold medicine. I need it to..." He paused and downed the shot that Carla poured for him. "...to prepare myself. I've got to call Claudia before anyone else does."

"If news people are calling us they might be calling her, too," Chuck murmured.

"Or worse," Chris added, "it will be on TV or the radio. Claudia needs to hear about this from family first." Seconds later he buried his face into his hands and dissolved into tears yet again. He couldn't believe that his precious Reeny was gone.