The Gift, page 6
part #1 of McKenna Mysteries Series
Beth stepped side to side in a nervous dance, before she caught herself and leaned against the doorframe.
“I gotta say, the tidiness of this room is making me feel like a hoarder.” Grace’s eyes caught the edge of the quilt, its corners creasing and billowing out evenly on all sides of the bed.
“I’d like to say she gets it from me.” Anthony fiddled with some change in his pockets. “My days in the military taught me the importance of having a place for everything and always being prepared.”
“You were in the military? What branch?” Grace had learned what questions to ask from hearing her veteran colleagues talk amongst each other. The branch seemed to be the question that could either make or break a bond. She had heard Marines bashing the Air Force for being weak, and Navy guys calling Marines brainwashed; everyone seemed to agree the Army enlisted only those not strong enough to be Marines. Her fellow officers sounded like high school kids on opposing sports teams when they harassed each other about their choice of branch.
“Marine Corps,” Anthony said, standing more erect as he said the words.
“Thank you for your service.” Grace gave him a tight-lipped smile. The statement always made her feel awkward, as if she was confessing that she herself was not willing to give her life up to the military. And it’s not that she didn’t think about it. She certainly contemplated enlisting, but being close to her mother was more of a priority. She couldn’t bear to leave her mom alone. Anthony smiled back, his fit build still evident from years in the service. “How long were you in?”
“Four years. That was enough for me. No place for a family, and that’s all I ever wanted.” He cast a sincere smile at Beth.
Grace guided herself back on track. “So, does Mackenzie spend a lot of time with her friends?”
“I guess any time that she has free she spends with them, but Kenzie is a busy girl. Always has been. I can remember when she was only five or six and she’d have her entire day planned out, each hour allotted for some activity.”
“Well, they say busy hands are happy hands, right?” Grace leaned toward the bulletin board, trying to decipher one of the many Post-it notes that stuck to the cork.
“You are right about that, Detective,” Anthony said as if they were in the middle of small talk, rather than an interview about his missing daughter.
“And what about you, Beth? Do you know of any friends that Mackenzie spends a lot of time with?”
“Mostly Taylor. She was—is her best friend.” Beth stumbled on her words.
“Which one is Taylor?” Grace asked, pointing to the collage of photos stabbed with colorful pins. One side of the board consisted of all soccer photos. Mackenzie on the field in the midst of an aggressive play, Mackenzie with her teammates proudly raising their index fingers after winning a game, Mackenzie and three other girls with faces painted the same shade of blue as their uniforms. The other side of the board held photos of Mackenzie and her friends, but none of the faces seemed to match those of the athletes.
“That’s Taylor.” Beth stepped forward as if she had been called to the stand. She used a bony finger to point out a brunette wearing a uniform, her cheek smashed up against Mackenzie’s as they posed for a selfie. The girl was dark in all the ways that Mackenzie was light. She had dark skin and deep black hair, a set of dark lashes reaching out for her brows. Her hair was gathered into a bun resting on top of her head with a few escaped wisps, softening the sharp angles of her face.
“Do you mind if I take this one for my file?” Grace asked, as she specifically looked at Beth to answer.
“Sure. That’s fine.”
“Beautiful girl,” Grace said, caught off guard by the youthful beauty staring back at her.
“I hate to say it, but all of Mackenzie’s friends are pretty. She tends to run in that popular crowd.” Anthony sat on the edge of the queen-sized bed, the mattress sinking beneath his frame. “I mean, if you ask me, they all look the same, the girls these days. When Mackenzie has a soccer game, I can never tell which one she is!” He let out a boisterous laugh, the weight of it so loud that Beth’s frail body nearly fell over.
“And who are these friends?” Grace said, pointing at the other group of girls, trying to hide from his humor. Again, she looked at Beth for answers.
“Oh, those are the other girls from school.” Beth leaned against the doorframe like a wallflower at a school dance. Anthony looked at her, sharing the same confused expression as Grace. “I guess her non-athlete friends. The ones that aren’t on the soccer team.” She tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ears. For a moment, Grace could see a resemblance between the photo of Mackenzie and Beth. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what was similar—maybe something in the way their eyes were set, although Beth was more hollow around the sockets. Mackenzie’s features seemed to fill out the contours of her face just right.
“So, she spends her time on the field with these girls, and her time off the field with this group?” Grace clarified, pointing at both groups of photos like a teacher presenting a lesson to the class.
“Like we said, Mackenzie is a very busy girl. In fact, sometimes we have to tell her to slow down. If anything, the girl works too hard, always chasing perfection. And she has so many friends it’s hard to keep track. Always has been a very popular girl,” Anthony said, before being interrupted by a cell phone playing an old Aerosmith song. Grace didn’t peg him for a rocker type, with his dirty blond hair barely dipping below his ears, short bristles that looked as if they got maintained at a weekly trip to the barbershop. Grace noticed his erect gait, the way he seemed to fall into step as if in military formation.
“Excuse me,” he said as he flipped open an outdated phone and shot a look of confusion at the screen. “Hello, this is Anthony Waterford.” He pushed himself off the bed and marched out of the room. His voice faded as he walked down the stairs, then quickly escalated. “Mackenzie! Where are you? What? I can’t hear you, honey. Are you okay? Just tell me you’re okay.”
Grace bolted out of the room, nearly knocking over Beth who was standing like a statue in the doorway.
“Okay, well—Jesus, Kenzie. We have the police looking for you!” Anthony said, showing the first signs of aggression in his voice. “I don’t care! That is no excuse!” Anthony made eye contact with Grace, shaking his head. He said goodbye reluctantly before hanging up the phone. “She’s at a friend’s house. I’m so sorry, Detective McKenna, I’m so sorry. I’m sure you don’t have time for this garbage,” he said, clearly forgetting they were in one of the smallest towns in the state, where a missing cat was typically the big case of the day.
“She’s okay?” Grace asked.
“Oh yeah, she’s okay for now. Until she gets home and receives her grounding. Beth!” Anthony called up the stairs. “Come find out where your daughter’s been.”
Suddenly, Grace was the third wheel, watching the family go through the motions of everyday life.
“What’s going on?” Beth appeared at the top of the stairs, her body leaving no trace of her entrance. Beth might have been the most fragile woman Grace had ever seen. Her voice was so low it was as if the words were struggling to reach the surface, drowning in her lack of existence. She walked down the stairs, and joined them in the kitchen.
“Mackenzie was at a friend’s house. Her ‘phone died.’” He threw some air quotes up, to accentuate the death of a teenager’s phone.
“Which friend?” Beth asked, seemingly more concerned with the smaller details.
“I don’t even know. Carly, Catelyn . . . something like that.” Anthony, fuming with frustration, slid his phone across the countertop. It bounced off the stainless steel toaster and slid back across the granite, falling onto the floor with a loud crack. “You’ve gotta be fuckin—” He stopped himself, suddenly aware of the presence of the stranger in his house. “This is an embarrassment to our family. I’m so sorry, Detective McKenna. I’m so sorry to waste your time like this.”
“It’s quite alright. But, I will need to speak to Mackenzie. Just to wrap everything up with the case. It’s standard procedure.”
“That’s fine. Serves her right for disappearing and scaring the bejeezus out of her mother.” He gathered the shattered pieces of his phone off the floor and dropped them into a plastic baggie. “Guess I’ll be busy standing in line at Verizon for the rest of the afternoon. Make yourself comfortable. She’ll be home in twenty minutes.” He walked over to the coatrack and slid his arms into a brown leather jacket, then slammed the door behind him, leaving an awkward silence between Grace and Beth. Grace heard the gentle opening of a door upstairs and small feet scurrying on the second level. She wondered if Penny had any understanding of what was going on, or if she was as wrapped up in her seven-year-old world the same way Grace was as a child.
“Would you like some coffee?” Beth asked, pulling out the coffee pot and filling it with fresh tap water.
“Sure, that would be great.”
“Take a seat.” Beth motioned to the barstool pushed into the island in the center of the kitchen. She seemed to have grown since Anthony left the house, her shoulders peeled back and her chin lifted. For the first time, her eyes held steady on Grace’s, revealing a confidence that was absent just moments before. “Cream, sugar, skim milk, agave nectar?” she asked, as she turned toward the open refrigerator. “Kenzie is going through a gluten-free, all-natural phase. Not really sure what agave nectar is—you’re on your own with that one.”
“I’ll be safe and stick with the cream and sugar,” Grace said, finally feeling a sense of humanity wafting off the woman.
“So, two girls, huh? Must be tough at times.” Grace threw the question out there, an attempt to dig up some dirt on the family that appeared to be growing more dysfunctional by the minute. The dynamic alone was off kilter; a prim and proper father who doted on his daughter, a painfully quiet mother who seemed to shrivel in the presence of the father, and a teenage daughter who seemed to be just a tad too perfect. The youngest daughter seemed to be the most stable in the family, or she just wasn’t old enough to be tainted by the Waterford characteristics.
“You know, people always say that. They dwell on the drama of the hormonal teen years.” Beth poured a fountain of sugar into her coffee cup. A faded image of Mackenzie, Penny and Beth circled the outside of the cup, their three faces so close it looked like they would need to be physically forced apart in order to separate them. “But I love having my girls. And I know—at least I hope, they will always stick around. Be close by.”
Beth took a small sip of the coffee and for the first time, Grace saw some allure in her face. She had symmetrical, soft features and nice skin, most likely because she used minimal products. With a touch of makeup, her brown eyes would pop, coming to life against her creamy skin and natural hair.
“You always hear about boys leaving their roots to start a life with their wife. Not my girls. I couldn’t imagine life far away from them. But, I don’t know. Sometimes I think Kenzie might go far away after college, or change her mind halfway through the discipline she chooses. She gets bored easily, always on the next mission to perfect a new hobby or skill. She has this way about her, it’s hard to explain.” The words were flowing freely from Beth’s mouth, but there was a faraway look in her eyes. “What about you? Any kids?”
“No,” Grace said, keeping her answer simple and adept. It wasn’t professional and could potentially be dangerous for an officer to impart personal information to victims and suspects. She always wondered how officers in small towns lived in that same small town, where gossip traveled and unraveled itself through a variety of communication means only to get distorted along the way. Her natural reaction was to divert the attention from herself. “Has Mackenzie looked at any colleges yet? I imagine this is a busy time for a girl so involved in extracurricular activities and academics.”
One of the benefits of being a female police officer was that women were more trusting and eager to relay information. Grace used this perk to try and delve deeper into Mackenzie’s life.
“Yeah, it’s been a busy time for sure.” Beth nodded in agreement as if they were old friends catching up, but she was still holding back just enough information.
“What schools is she looking at?”
“Harvard is her top choice.” Beth tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Wow, I never thought I would utter those words.” A trace of moisture came to the surface of her eyes, giving way to a slight sparkle against the brown. “It’s just, I was such a bad student. I guess I never imagined I could raise a child who excelled in nearly everything she does. I think she gets it all from Anthony.” She put her hands up, refusing to accept credit for anything.
“Oh, I’m sure she’s got at least one of her good traits from you.” Grace imagined that Beth could be an exhausting friend, always needing to be boosted up. Although, there was something about the way her eyes held steady when Anthony was out of the room that made Grace believe that, at some point, maybe this woman did believe in herself.
“I used to play the piano,” Beth said, strumming her fingers on the granite island. “Maybe she got my musical talent.” She giggled. “Because I know for certain that Anthony doesn’t have a musical bone in his body.”
“What hobbies does Anthony have?”
“Oh, he’s into everything. He’s always running out to the hardware store for parts to make things. Last week, he made Penny a balance beam so she could practice gymnastics. Penny doesn’t seem to take life as seriously as Kenzie does, though. I don’t think she’s set foot on the beam since the fresh coat of purple paint dried. She lives life a little more freely. Flies by the seat of her pants.”
Grace couldn’t help but think of her own mother, always fluttering from one thing to the next. The only thing that remained constant in Ellen McKenna’s life was the love that she had for her daughter.
“Do you still play?” Grace was drawn to this woman, longing to know more about the mystery that flooded in and out of her eyes.
“What?” Beth looked up, confused.
“Do you still play the piano?”
“Oh, God no. Haven’t played in years. Not since I moved here, I’d say. Would you like some more coffee, or something to eat, Detective McKenna?” Beth ran the conversation off the train tracks, directing it out of oncoming traffic.
“No thanks, I’m good.”
“Hello!” The voice of Mackenzie Waterford echoed through the house, followed by a slam of the door, much like her father’s had moments earlier. When she walked into the room, it was as if the world had been tilted and started to spin in a different direction. “Sorry mom, I didn’t mean to startle you guys. My phone died,” the girl said, her voice sounding as pronounced and silky as the dirty blonde hair that cascaded down her shoulders. Highlighted blonde tips reached for a pair of perky breasts that filled out a pale blue shirt. She pulled her brown cardigan tight across her chest, the tones blending with her eyes, the color of milk chocolate rimmed with a deep-pink eye shadow. Mackenzie Waterford was beautiful. Flecks of pale blonde erupted from the backdrop of her natural light brown hair that was parted in the middle and contoured against her cheeks.
“Where were you, Mackenzie?” Beth asked, jumping up from the island to assess her daughter.
“I was at Carly’s house. I told Daddy I was staying there yesterday. I was supposed to call, but my phone died and I didn’t have my charger, and it just slipped my mind. So, here I am. And I see that you were so startled that you contacted the police again?” Mackenzie set her backpack gently on a kitchen chair, the weight of the bag sending the chair spinning on a swivel.
“Because you were gone and we were worried. Mackenzie, we didn’t hear from you for nearly two days. How is that supposed to make us feel?” Beth suddenly looked distracted, an urgency settling in her eyes.
“Mom, I was at Carly’s house and I forgot. We were caught up in our project. Time just escaped me. I’m seventeen, I think I’m well beyond checking in with my parents every hour.” Mackenzie’s eyes darted between the floor and her mother.
“For God’s sake, Mackenzie, it’s been nearly forty-eight hours! Who is Carly? I know there is no Carly on your soccer team.” Beth, proficient in her daughter’s friendships, challenged the girl.
“Just some girl I met in drama class. No big deal.”
“I’m sorry, this has happened before? Mackenzie has been missing?” Grace interjected herself into the conversation, picking up on the word again, her cue to ask what the chief had already prepared her for.
“Well, yes. Mackenzie just kind of gets in these zones where she’s focused and she forgets everything that is going on around her . . . which includes notifying her parents of where she is,” Beth said, her parental voice shining through.
“Basically, it’s my mother being paranoid.” Mackenzie walked across the room toward Grace, and with the manners of a polished businesswoman, extended her hand toward her. “Mackenzie Waterford, nice to meet you.” She gave Grace a firm, practiced shake and in the moment they locked eyes, Mackenzie Waterford was no longer a beautiful young scholar.
She was a murderer.
Chapter Seven
Beth
I knew something was off the first day we brought her home from the hospital. Mackenzie was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen, but there was something in the way she stared at me, as if she could see through me and into another world. Prior to even investigating the adoption process, I had researched everything about those first milestones that made every parent giddy with emotion. One of those was eye contact. Babies did not make eye contact until they were at least six weeks old, yet here was this little pink bundle, only two days old, staring at me, or staring at something in or beyond me. In those first days, when she was home and I was walking around in a sleepless haze, I thought her stare was a sign that she was advanced.
