Shadow Lae Estates

Tom stood in a short line at the police station awaiting his turn. He was visibly shaking. He swept away a few strands of sweaty hair from his forehead. At last, an officer beckoned him to approach the desk.

"I'm Tom Donaldson," he said to the officer. "I got a call to come down here. I was told it's about my wife, Karla."

He was ushered into a small room with a table, a chair on either side, and a wall that was filled with a mirror that was obviously one-way. He waited patiently until a man wearing a business suit entered the room. He held a folder in his hand and introduced himself as Detective Foley.

"Do you know why you're here, Mr. Donaldson?" Detective Foley asked.

Tom shrugged. "My wife didn't come home last night, and she isn't answering her cell. I'm afraid something might have happened to her."

"Why didn't you call us?" the detective asked.

"She hasn't been gone for twenty-four hours yet," Tom noted. "That's the rule, right? I've seen that on TV."

"That's true of a missing persons case," Foley said. "Do you have any reason to believe your wife may be missing?"

"Well, you tell me," Tom said. "That's why you called me down here, right?"

"Why do you think you're here?" the detective asked.

Tom shrugged and nervously tapped his foot under the table. "I was just told to come here. Something about my wife." The detective simply examined him from across the table, motionless and calm, waiting for Tom to speak again. "I...I just hope something bad didn't happen to her."

"You didn't find it unusual when she didn't return home last night?" The detective's cold stare was unnerving.

"We...we've had some problems lately," Tom said, his voice cracking. "I figured maybe she just left for the night to get her head on straight."

"Have you two been fighting?"

"No, not fighting. Just...you know, the usual marital problems."

The detective folded his hands in front of him and searched Tom's expression. "Mr. Donaldson, if I were to tell you that your wife's body was found in the woods near your home, would that surprise you?"

Tom's eyes widened. "Wait...is that why you brought me down here? To identify her body? Oh, God, no!" He covered his face with his hands and shouted. His head slammed down on top of the desk, and he ran his fingers through his long hair. "No, no, no, no!"

He continued to wail and shout before raising his head. When he did, he saw Karla standing at the door of the interrogation room. He looked from her to the detective and back with an expression of wild-eyed confusion.

"Oh, thank God!" he shouted. "Baby, you're alive!" He leaped to his feet and attempted to bolt across the room to embrace her, but the detective stood in his path and blocked him.

"Save it, Tom," Karla said. She clenched her jaw and pierced him with her eyes.

"I...I don't understand," Tom said. "Wh-what's happening?"

"What's happening," said the detective, "is that you are under arrest for conspiracy to murder Karla Donaldson." He secured Tom's wrists behind his back with handcuffs. "Let's head on down to the next room. We have some talking to do. Say good-bye to your wife."

Tom brushed past her, staring at her in disbelief. She gave him a sarcastic wave and was gently ushered into the room by another detective. This one was informally dressed in jeans and a tee shirt.

"Mrs. Donaldson, I'm Detective Mackey," he said. "I know you've already given your initial statement, but I need to hear your statement as well, if you wouldn't mind."

"No, not at all," she said.

Karla sat in one of the chairs and told her story once more. She woke up in a van, she explained, surrounded by four men. They appeared to be gang members, although she couldn't be certain of that. They informed her that they were hired by her husband to murder her.

At first, she didn't believe them. Then one of them called her husband and put him on speaker phone. He asked if he was sure that they should kill her, and she heard her husband say yes. When the man ended the call, Karla begged them to reconsider. As it turned out, however, that wasn't necessary.

"We're not killers," one of the men told her. "We just took that chump's money and then took you. We figured we'd do you a favor and let you know what type of man you're with."

They drove her to the police station and let her out.

"They kept his money," she explained, "and I have no problem with that."

"Can you describe these men?" the detective asked. "Can you describe the van they drove?"

"I can," she said, "but I don't think it will help you much. I didn't get a very good look at any of them."

The detective sighed. "It sounds like you're protecting them."

"They didn't do anything wrong," she said.

"They accepted money for a contract killing," the detective noted.

"Still, they spared my life."

Mackey slowly shook his head. "Without them, there isn't much evidence to corroborate your story."

"If you check Tom's bank account," she said, "I'm sure you'll find a large cash withdrawal." She then smiled and produced her cellphone from her pocket. She tapped on it a few times and then held it up for the detective to hear. "And also, they let me make a recording with my phone," she said.

"Yes, do it," Tom's voice said on the recording. "Kill her."

***

"Welcome to another episode of Face Time with Fiona," Kiersten said, smiling into the webcam. "You may have noticed I brought a friend with me today. Say hi, Kelly."

Holly sat in a chair in the background and waved to the webcam.

"Isn't she just adorable?" Kiersten said. "If she looks like the girl next door, it's because she is! I invited her here today to watch my show. But don't get too excited, fellas. I promised her she will keep her clothes on and won't be participating. At least, not this time."

Kiersten leaned forward and tapped on the keyboard and mouse. Hip-hop music began playing, and she swayed her hips to the beat. As she danced and moved her hands along her body, teasingly displaying bits of her flesh, Holly sat and watched. Every now and then, she would glance over to the other side of the room where a man stood off-camera. He watched Kiersten like a starving dog at a butcher shop. The donations poured in, and soon, Kiersten was naked. She smiled and kneeled before the webcam.

"Okay, now you all know what time it is," she said in her gravelly voice. "Today's lucky man is a guy I found on Craigslist. I placed an ad looking for a guy with a big cock who is a huge gusher, because I know that is what you all want to see. This guy fit the bill. He also told me he hasn't cum in a long time, so he's sure to completely soak my face. Are you ready?"

She looked off-camera, and the man stepped toward her. She unzipped his fly and took out his semi-erect cock. She looked up at him and scowled.

"This sure doesn't look like a big cock to me," she said. "You didn't lie to me, did you? Because if you did, I'll kick you right out of here."

"Don't worry about it, honey," the man said. "I'm a grower; not a show-er. Just put that dick in your mouth."

Kiersten glanced at Holly, who shrugged. Kiersten sighed and put her mouth on his cock. She engulfed the entire length and held it there, swirling her tongue. When she determined that it was as hard as it was going to get, she withdrew and examined it.

"This," she said, "is not the dick you promised. That picture you sent me was bullshit."

"Well, what are you gonna do?" the man said. "There are a lot of dishonest people out there."

"You need to leave," she said. She attempted to rise to her feet, but he held her down.

"No, you need to keep sucking that dick," he said in an ominous tone.

"I said get out!" she responded, struggling to get to her feet.

Suddenly, he produced a switch blade from his back pocket and held it to her throat. "Okay, I tried playing nice," he said, "but now you pushed me. Here's how this is gonna work. First, you over there." He nodded toward Holly. "You're gonna get naked for me. Then I'm gonna fuck you both."

"No," Kiersten said, "just leave her out of this."

"Quiet, bitch!" the man shouted.

***

Alex stepped into the batter's box, doing his best to control his breathing, just as his coach had instructed. The first pitch out of Mitch Taylor's powerful right arm sped toward the plate at an inconceivable speed. Alex stood his ground and watched it pass.

"Strike one!" the umpire shouted.

Alex stepped out of the box and took a few practice swings. Without question, Mitch was the best and most feared pitcher in the league. He was so tall that it was difficult to believe he was only ten years old. He stood on the mound and patiently waited for Alex to step back into the box. He held the ball in his glove in front of him, as motionless as a statue, waiting for his cue.

Alex stepped in again and scratched at the dirt with his back foot. He held his bat tightly in his hands and waited for the next pitch. He decided that he would swing at the next pitch no matter where it went. The pitch shot out of Mitch's hand toward the plate and Alex swung. He actually felt some slight contact as the ball glanced off the bat on its way toward the backstop.

"Atta boy, Alex!" his dad shouted from his position in the first base coach's box. "Way to get a piece of it! You've got the timing down perfectly!"

Alex's heart beat intensely in his chest as he stood and waited for the next pitch. He swung with every ounce of strength he had. He felt the ball connect solidly with his bat, and he watched with incredulity as it sailed into the outfield. For a moment, he was so shocked he forgot to run. Then he heard the screaming from the bench.

"Run, Alex! Run!"

He sprinted toward first base, where his father stood in foul territory wearing the biggest smile he had ever seen. He rounded first base and then retreated to the bag when the throw came in from the outfield. As soon as he touched the bag, his father wrapped his arms around him and lifted him off the ground.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Dan shouted. "I knew you could do it!"

Dan released his son and pumped his fist in the air, looking first at Bill, and then finding Denise in the stands. She was standing and clapping with tears in her eyes. Dan's eyes watered as well, and for a fleeting moment they locked eyes and enjoyed the experience together.

***

"You wanna see your friend's blood on the floor?" the man asked, looking intensely at Holly. He held the knife steady against Kiersten's throat. Kiersten grasped his arm with both hands and looked at Holly with a panicked expression.

Holly stood and slowly began to remove her shirt.

"That's right," he said, licking his lips. "Nice and slow. The audience is going to get more than they paid for today."

Tears welled in Holly's eyes as she removed her top. She unsnapped the button on her shorts and pulled them down.

"Very nice," the man remarked. "Very, very nice. I'm gonna have a lot of fun with you two."

As both girls sobbed, Holly reached behind her and unclasped her bra. She held it in place, silently imploring with the man. He nodded, and she let it drop to the floor.

"A little on the small side," the man remarked, "but still, very nice. What do you think, audience?"

Messages scrolled across the screen. Most of them begged the man to put an end to the show, but some encouraged him to continue. The man paused to read the messages and smiled. He then turned back to Holly.

"Okay, sweetheart," he said. "Now the panties. Let's go."

Holly shook her head and begged him to stop. He simply held the knife steady and repeated his demand. Reluctantly, she pulled her panties down and stood before him and their Internet audience completely naked.

"I'd clap if one of my hands weren't busy," the man said. "Why don't you do a little twirl for us, sweetie?"

As Holly turned around, they heard the sound of an alarm in the distance. It grew louder as the man ordered Kiersten to resume sucking his cock. Eventually, the alarm grew so loud that the man couldn't ignore it any longer. He stretched as far as he could to see out the window while keeping the knife trained on Kiersten.

The bedroom door burst open and Art stood looming in the doorway. He wore his fire helmet and pants, and held a large red axe in his hands. The man with the knife scrambled to the back of the room in a panic. Art looked down at the knife in his hands and shook his head.

"Never bring a knife to an axe fight," Art said. He stepped toward the man, slapping the axe with his palm. The man dropped the knife and raised his hands. Art grabbed him by the shoulders and tossed him into the hallway, where two other firemen stood.

"Hold him until the cops get here," Art said to his colleagues. "Oh, and it would be a real shame if he accidentally fell down those stairs."

As Art turned to the two young women in the room, there was a ruckus in the hallway that distinctly sounded like a man being hurled down a flight of stairs. Kiersten leaped to her feet and wrapped Art in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Oh, Daddy, thank you!" she shouted. "I was so scared! You were right. I shouldn't have done this!"

"Shh, shh," he said, stroking her hair. "It's okay. You're safe now."

He looked over to Holly, who was also sobbing. She was quickly stepping into her panties, and Art looked away and closed his eyes. It hadn't gone unnoticed that Kiersten had called him "Daddy."

***

Alex stepped up to the plate for his second at-bat. He felt much more confident this time staring down at Mitch from forty-six feet away. He scratched at the dirt with his back foot and held the bat in his hands confidently.

Dan watched his son from the first base coach's box. His chest still swelled with pride after that first at-bat. It didn't matter what else Alex did that day. Even if he hadn't gotten a hit, he would still be proud of his son for conquering his fear and standing in that box again the league's fastest pitcher. He knew that Alex had learned something about himself that day that he would carry with him for life.

What happened next seemed to occur in slow motion. Dan's focus was on the batter's box. He didn't even see the pitch leave Mitch's hand. All he saw was Alex flinch for just an instant. Then he collapsed on the spot. The sound that was produced when the ball made contact with Alex's skull was nauseating. Alex didn't make a sound. He simply folded like a marionette whose strings had just been cut, and lay motionless in the dirt.

Dan sprinted toward his son, and was the first to arrive at his side. He held Alex's head in his hands and called to him. "Alex, are you okay? Alex? Come on, buddy, answer me!"

Denise bolted from the grandstand and rushed around the fence, joining the crowd at the plate. "Someone dial 9-1-1!" she shouted.

"I already did," Bill said, joining the group surrounding home plate. "An ambulance is on the way."

Dan looked at Denise with tears in his eyes. She gently stroked Alex's hair with a shaking hand and examined the large red welt just above her son's temple. She looked at Dan and her bottom lip quivered.

"He'll be okay," Dan said. He reached out to her and squeezed her hand as the sound of a siren blared in the distance.

***

Dan and Denise sat side-by-side in the waiting room of the hospital. Nurses, doctors, and other medical staff scurried around them as they sat in silence. Bill sat beside them in silent support. Dan was bent forward with his head in his hands, while Denise stared at the door in anticipation of the doctor walking through it at any moment.

"This is my fault," Dan muttered. "It's all my fault."

"Don't be ridiculous," Bill said. "That pitch came in so fast, Alex probably didn't even see it. There was nothing you could have done, buddy."

"He didn't move," Dan said. "He stood right in that box, just as I told him, and didn't move a muscle. I screamed and yelled at that boy for weeks. Told him not to step out of that box when the pitch comes in. So he didn't. He did just as I told him."

"Dan," Denise said, softly, "it's not anyone's fault. It was a freak accident. It just happened, okay?"

Dan looked at her. His eyes were bloodshot. "I kept telling him to be a man," he said. "Man-up, I said. I took all of my own problems and put them on that poor kid. Denise, how did we end up like this? We were so happy in Missouri. All of us."

She paused for a moment and looked in his eyes, recognizing the man she loved. She looked at Bill, and he seemed to take the hint. He rose from his chair and excused himself, leaving them alone.

"Dan," she said, "I want you to know something. I never slept with Andrew."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Dan said.

"It does to me," she said. "I need you to believe me."

He studied her eyes for a moment. "I do," he said. "I believe you. I was just...jealous, I guess. The past few months have been really difficult for me. Losing my business, uprooting our family, moving all the way out here, becoming a house-husband..."

"Dan, you provided for our family for a long time. You put me through school. Everything our family has right now we owe to you. You won't be a house-husband forever. You'll find a job and things will return to normal."

He nodded and smiled briefly. "I know. I just...it's just going to take me some time to adapt to change."

"You never did like change," she noted with a smile. "And speaking of change, I want you to know I'm changing my job. I've requested a transfer to another department. Andrew stepped over the line - more than once. I let him get away with it at first, because I have to admit I was flattered. But what you said in the counselor's office about me being selfish? That stung a little."

"I'm sorry about that," he said.

"No," she said. "It stung because you were right to some extent. I was putting my job before my family. That won't happen anymore. I learned that lesson."

He smiled. "God, I hope he's okay. Did you see the look on his face when he got that hit?"

She nodded and smiled. They embraced and held each other tightly amidst the bustling chaos of the hospital floor. The front entrance opened and Holly appeared, looking disheveled and panicked. She spotted her parents and sprinted toward them. Dan and Denise rose from their chairs and the three of them embraced.

"Is he okay?" Holly shrieked.

"We don't know yet," Dan responded. "There was some bleeding beneath his skull. They have to relieve the pressure and stop the bleeding. We're waiting to hear from the doctor."

"We kept calling and calling you," Denise said. "Where were you? What took you so long to get here?"

"It's a long story," Holly replied. She cried on their shoulders and held them both. "Oh, god, Mom. I have missed you so much!"

***

"Is that the whole story?" Roxanne asked. She sat at the kitchen table with her hands folded in front of her. Across the table, Art and Kiersten glanced at each other before nodding together.

"Well, then," Roxanne said with a sigh. She addressed Kiersten first. "Needless to say, I'm extremely disappointed with you. I assumed you were a little smarter than that. I don't have to tell you that your little webcam show is over. You know that, right?"

Kiersten nodded, looking down at the table.

"You know that what you were doing is prostitution, right?" Roxanne asked.

"It was not!" Kiersten protested.

"You took money from men...for sex," Roxanne noted.

"I didn't take it from the men that I...just, never mind," Kiersten said. "I won't do it again."

"Damn right you won't," Roxanne said. "Now get out of my sight. Later on, we're all going to go over to the Price's and have a long talk."

Kiersten cast her eyes to the floor and bolted from the kitchen. Art began to rise from his chair.