Read Online Memories of Love by Jean C. Joachim - Free Book Online Page B

aside. “There’s a couple a cops here to see you, Miss Brewster. If you
want to take a powder, I’ll tell ‘ em I ain’t seen ya .”
    “Cops?” Her eyebrows rose. “To see
me?”
    He nodded.
    “I don’t need to hide, Gus, but
thank you,” she hid a smile as she patted his arm.
    As soon as she entered the auditorium,
two detectives approached her. Both were around six feet tall, about the same
weight. One had dark brown hair and the other was blond. Cold-eyed, their faces
were impenetrable masks. Standing straight, the brown-haired one rested his
hand on his gun as he addressed her.
    “Cara Brewster?” She nodded a small
stab of fear shot through her, though she hadn’t done anything illegal. “Detectives
Marx and Brick, ma’am. Could we talk to you in private for a moment?”
    She ushered them into her dressing
room. They stood while she sat at her tiny, mirrored table. Detective Marx
moved closer and plucked a photograph off the mirror.
    “You’ve got a lot of pictures of
this little girl, Ms. Brewster. Can you explain that?” Detective Marx asked.
His penetrating stare made Cara’s stomach knot.
    “That’s confidential. I signed an
agreement not to discuss her…”
    “Seems a school in Washington
reported a guy taking pictures of this little girl. They tracked him down, and
he said he gave them to you. So, I’m asking you why you’re paying someone to
take pictures of this kid.” He shifted his weight but not his eyes, which held
her under close scrutiny.
    “Are you trafficking in little
girls, Ms. Brewster?” There was an edge to Detective Brick’s voice.
    “Oh my God! No! What you’re
thinking…it’s disgusting.” Cara put her hand to her mouth as her heart beat
rapidly.
    “Really? What would you think if you
were us, ma’am?” Detective Marx asked. “I mean with all those pictures of her
up there…on display.”
    “I think you’d better tell us exactly
why you have these pictures, or maybe you’d rather come down to the station
house and give us your explanation there?”
    “You can’t tell anyone. Really. I’ve
promised, in writing, and I’m trying to live up to that.” She wrung her hands. “Can
you keep it confidential?”
    “That depends. No promises, Ms.
Brewster. If it’s something illegal…”
    “It’s not illegal.” Her eyes pleaded
with him.
    “Tell us, and we’ll see what we can
do.” Detective Brick pulled out a notebook.
    “These are pictures of my daughter.”
    “This is your kid?” Detective Marx’s
eyebrows shot up. She nodded. He looked over at his partner. “Kid does look a
lot like her.” His eyes darted from the photos of Sarah to Cara and back again.
“Why are you taking pictures of your own kid?”
    “It’s a long story.”
    Detective Marx sat down on a
bentwood chair. “I’ve got plenty of time, Ms. Brewster. Go ahead.”

 
    * * * *

 
    The next Saturday, Grant dropped
Sarah at Molly’s house for a sleepover then joined his wife and sister as they
made their way to the Irving Berlin Theater for a preview performance of Blind Love.
    They got out of the cab and rushed
inside, as they had only five minutes until curtain.
    “Jane, I’d think you’d have planned
a little better. We almost missed the curtain,” Evelyn scolded, settling into
her seat.
    “Program, Jane?” Grant asked,
sitting down between them.
    Jane shot a queasy smile at him as
she handed him one. She whispered, “Don’t hate me.”
    Grant shot her a quizzical look. The
lights had started to dim, so they couldn’t read. He rolled it up and held it
in his hand. He smiled as he recalled this being his favorite spot to watch
Carol Anne on stage in D.C. Third row
center orchestra. Again. Brings back memories. As the curtain lifted, a
tiny shiver ran up his spine.
    When Quinn Roberts appeared on
stage, the audience burst into applause. Then Cara Brewster came out. Again,
there was clapping.
    Grant’s eyes grew wide. He began to
cough and sputter. Evelyn