The Arx Read Free

he’s right? No offense, but she did seem a bit off…”
    “Gloria would never hurt Ralphie! She adored him.” Janet’s voice started to break. “Why? Why would anyone do such a thing? It’s enough to make you lose faith in humanity.”
    “Don’t get upset. The baby might still be alright. So where’s Gloria now?”
    “She’s at home. She’s devastated. They made her promise not to go anywhere. I’m worried about her. If anything’s happened to Ralphie…”
    Frank held the cell phone with his chin and picked up the package of plates.
    Janet spoke. “Frank?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Do you think you could go and talk to her? I don’t think she trusts the police.”
    He groaned. Once again he tugged, frustrated, at the seam. The whole package slipped out of his hands and landed on the floor.
    “Frank?”
    He bent down and picked it up.
    “Frank?”
    “I’m busy.”
    “Busy? Busy doing what? Sleeping?”
    “I’m not a cop anymore, Janet. Let them handle it. That’s their job.”
    “Who? Grant Stocker? You’ve told me how you feel about him. What kind of investigation is it going to be with him leading it?”
    “It’s going to be the official investigation conducted by the guy they chose to do the job.”
    “You could talk to him,” she said. “He might listen to you.”
    Frank closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
    “I know you don’t really know Gloria,” Janet continued, “and you don’t owe her anything…”
    “I’ll think about it.”
    “Well, don’t think too long. If Ralphie doesn’t turn up soon, she may be in jail charged with murder.”
    Janet hung up. Again the package slipped out of Frank’s hands.
    “Shit!” he said, kicking it across the room.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    Frank, Gloria, and Consequences
     
    Early in the afternoon the next day, Frank stood on the fifteenth floor of an aging West End high-rise, outside the door of Gloria Hanon’s apartment.
    He fought to stamp down the rising terror that threatened to paralyze him. For fifteen years he had dedicated his life to seeing justice done; he couldn’t turn his back now on a woman who might be innocent. He was still one of the good guys, even if he no longer wore a badge.
    He stared back down the hall at the elevator door sliding shut, pumping the air pressure in the building up a notch. The closing door flung a shadow across the hallway. He shuddered, fighting to hold it together. Shaking out his arms and shoulders, he relaxed a little.
    According to her story, he thought, somebody snuck up fifteen floors, broke in, stole her baby, and left again without making a sound and without being seen? All in the time it takes to have a shower?
    No wonder they don’t believe her.
    He knocked on the door and heard shuffling footsteps on the other side. Finally it opened, and Gloria appeared.
    “Sorry about the way I look,” she said.
    She was no longer the perfect Barbie doll he’d met at his sister’s house. Her eyes were red and puffy, supported underneath by large bags. Tufts of hair pitched wildly from her head. She wore an old sweat shirt and sweat pants. She was a mess, he thought. But at least now she looked human.
    “You look fine,” he said. “I’m sorry about what happened.”
    “Thank you,” she said, running her sleeve under her nose. “Would you like to come in?”
    The apartment mirrored her appearance. Dishes and clothes were scattered everywhere. She flopped down on the couch and he sat in an armchair across from her.
    “Are they still out there?” she said.
    “What? Oh – the reporters? Yeah, I had to push through them to get in.”
    She ran her shaking fingers through her hair.
    “Do you feel up to talking about it?” Frank said.
    “I guess.”
    He pulled a small notebook from his jacket.
    Just like the old days, he thought. Why don’t you just describe to me what happened, ma’am. When did you last see your husband? Is this door usually locked? Who was the last person that talked to your