I apologize for this chap, it's a lil morbid and disturbing at parts. I hope you don't hate me, it's slightly necessary. . . you know? It builds the mood.
Ok to answer a few review questions:
Lexan: nope, not really "deep end of the ocean"-y. but that book is amazing, as a matter of fact it is sitting on the shelf above the comp, staring me in the face.
Camden-Kinkirk: because I love to! :-P it makes me happy
Everyone who is wondering about Cari: READ THIS CHAP!!!
Yeah, mmk I'm done with that
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"Michelle?" Mary asked puzzled.
"Um, what did the news report call her…uh Karen?" he stuttered
"Cari?!" Mary almost shouted
"Yeah, that was it. Cari."
"Hold on . . ." Mary told him, "Wilson!" she shouted behind her, "call detective Rogers, Cari's ex is here"
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Not more than 15 minutes later, Mark was sitting on the couch; the little boy he had brought with him was huddled closely to him. Detective Rodgers was sitting across from him, holding a tape-recorder out in front of him. Mary and Wilson stood behind him, listening intently to everything he said.
"Her full name is Michelle Carrigan Jarrett. I guess that's where she got Cari from, her middle name. I didn't think anything of it when I heard that on TV, Cari Jarrett, I just thought it was a coincidence. But then I saw her picture on TV . . .you know, that picture . . .it's from our wedding."
Mary looked closely at Mark. He was an older man, or maybe not . . . but he looked like he had been through a lot. His dark brown hair was going gray on the sides. And his eyes, a very deep blue, looked so full of hurt. Especially when he talked about Cari.
"Does Cari . . . Michelle have any history of mental illness?" detective Rodgers asked.
Mark froze, surely he knew questions like this might be asked, but he wasn't prepared to answer them.
"Three years ago, Michelle was out with her mother. They got hit by an 18-wheeler than ran a red light. When it first happened they were both conscious, Michelle got out of the burning car, thinking her mother was following her, she immediately passed out on the side of the highway. Her mom didn't get out, she was paralyzed . . .so she burned alive . . .in the car." Mark paused a moment, "Michelle always blamed herself. I always told her there was nothing she could have done. She started to slowly lose it; she was seeing things and having awful nightmares. She never slept. The doctors diagnosed her with Post-traumatic stress disorder. In the midst of all of this she filed for divorce, out of the blue. When we went to court she wanted custody of our son, James." He patted the boy next to him, "we, call him J.J." he smiled fondly at his son, and then returned to his story. "He was just a little boy, and Michelle was so sick, the courts didn't see her as a fit parent and suggest that she be hospitalized."
Mary and Wilson stood there, mostly in shock. They never really would have thought that Cari had been through so much.
"She got out of the center a few months ago. She told me that she was going to move back to buffalo. And I told her good luck. She really wanted to take J.J. with her, but he didn't want to go with her. She was really angry with me . . .I think that's why she took your son"
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Later that night, the police had set Mark up in a hotel in town. They wanted to keep him around for a while.
Mary was nervously pacing around the small kitchen of the apartment.
"Can you believe that? Cari? She's a nut!" Mary said, "Oh wait, she's Michelle. Gah, we don't even know her name!"
Watching Mary pace while she ranted was making Wilson nervous and agitated.
"I wonder if she's done anything to hurt him. Poor thing, I mean, that's just so scary."
Wilson's leg was shaking; he wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.
"Do you think we should call detective Rodgers? I bet they've got a lot of new information now"
Wilson stood up, and in his first real act of emotion since the kidnapping he screamed, "Shut up! Why do you even care so much? He's not even your kid!"
As soon as he said it, he wished he could take it back.
Mary just stared back, wide-eyed. Her hands shook as she ran her fingers nervously through her hair, "uh . . .you-you know what? I . . .I need to go. Yeah, um . . .I-I've got things . . .th-that I need to do" she stuttered quietly as she grabbed her keys and closed the door behind her.
Wilson didn't even bother to follow her. It was way too late for that.
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*sigh* these crazy kids
review please! You're always so good at that! You get a gold star!