The Innocent

“You spend a lot of time around dead bodies?” she said warily.

“Ever since I hooked up with you.”

“We’re not hooked up in any way at all.”

“I know about your foster parents, though calling them ‘parents’ stretches all credulity.”

“I don’t like that you’ve been snooping around my life,” she exclaimed.

“The city busted them,” he said. “The other kids there have been taken away by now. I think you had something to do with that.”

Julie’s angry look faded. “They didn’t deserve to be treated like that. No little kid does.”

“Now tell me what happened here.”

“Why?”

“Like I said, I want to help you.”

“Why?”

“Call me a Good Samaritan.”

“There aren’t any of those left,” she said firmly.

“Not even your parents?”

“You leave my parents out of this,” she said sharply.

“Did you see how they died? Is that why you were on the run?”

Julie backed up until she was against the wall. For a moment Robie thought she was going to run for it. And he wasn’t sure what he would do if she did.

“Were they mixed up in something over their heads?” he asked. “Drugs?”

“My mom and dad wouldn’t hurt anyone. And no, this had nothing to do with drugs.”

“So they were killed? Just a simple nod will do.”

She moved her head forward a notch.

“You saw that happen?”

Another nod.

“Then you need to go to the police.”

“If I go to the police they’ll put me right back in foster care. And then those people will find me.”

“The guy on the bus, he was the one?”

“I think so.”

“Julie, tell me exactly what happened. It’s the only way I can help you. If last night showed you nothing else, it’s that I’m someone who can get things done.”

“What about those people on the TV. Did you kill them? A mom and her kid? You said you didn’t do it, but I need to know the truth.”

“Well, if I did kill them there’s no way in the world I would admit it. But if I did do it why would I be here trying to help you? Give me a reason.”

She let out a long breath, played with the straps on her backpack. “Do you swear you didn’t kill them?”

“I swear I didn’t kill them. I’m working with the FBI right now to try and figure out who did.” He pulled out his badge and showed it to her.

Julie said, “Okay. I guess it’s cool. I got away from the Dixons and came here last night. I hadn’t been home very long when I heard someone come in. I thought it was my parents, but someone else was with them. He was yelling at them. Asking them stuff.”

Robie drew a few steps closer. “Asking them what? Try to be as precise as you can.”

Julie screwed up her face, thinking. “He said, ‘How much do you know? What have you been told,’ stuff like that. And then, and then…”

“He hurt one of them?”

Tears trickled down her face. “I heard a gunshot. I ran down the stairs. The guy looked at me. My dad was against the wall over there. He was all bloody. The guy pointed the gun at me, but my mom hit him and he fell down. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay and help her. But she told me to run.”

Julie shut her eyes, but the tears eased out from under her eyelids. “I went back to my bedroom and climbed out the window. Then I heard another shot. And I ran hard. I was a coward. I knew that shot meant my mom was dead. But I just ran. I was a shit. I just left her to die.”

She opened her eyes and stiffened when she saw Robie standing next to her.

“And if you hadn’t run, you’d be dead,” he said. “And that would have done no one any good. Your mom saved your life. She sacrificed her life for yours. So you did the right thing, because you did what your mom wanted you to do. Stay alive.”

Robie handed her a tissue from a box on the table and she dried her tears and then blew her nose.

“So what now?” she asked.

“Do you think anyone around here heard the shots?”

“I doubt it. The place next door is empty. So is the duplex across the street. This used to be an okay neighborhood, but then everybody lost their jobs.”

“Including your parents?”

“They worked at whatever they could find. My mom went to college,” she added proudly. “My dad was a good guy.” She looked down. “He just sometimes got down on himself. Felt like the whole world was against him.”

“What were their names?”

“Curtis and Sara Getty.”

“No relation to the Getty Oil folks, I guess?”

“If so, nobody ever told us.”

He said, “Okay, here’s my plan. We find out who killed your parents and why.”

“But if it was the guy on the bus he’s clearly dead.”

“Did you leave from this house last night and go directly to the bus stop?”

“Yes.”

“Then the guy wasn’t alone. He couldn’t have policed this place, gotten rid of two bodies, and made it to the bus. There have to be others.”

“But why my parents? I loved them, but it’s not like they were important or anything.”

“You sure they weren’t involved in drug dealing or gangs or anything?”

“Look, if they were drug kingpins do you think they’d be living in this place?”

“So no enemies?”

“No. At least not that I know of.”

“Where did they work?”

“Dad at a warehouse in southeast. Mom at a diner a few blocks from here.”

“So your dad would go over there for meals maybe?”