What transforms in the dark? Part 3

Andy Flynn stood cross-armed on Denise Shaw's porch in cover from the rain. He unclenched his jaw and stretched his back slowly, sore muscles protesting loudly before he crossed his arms again and resumed surveying the front lawn and heavy rainfall. The many cups of coffee he had drowned, since being called into work in the middle of the night, had left a stale taste in his mouth. Staying up through the night saw his mood souring by the hour and he was on the brink of unleashing his temper on whichever moron annoyed him next.

The team was rotating between who stayed with Denise Shaw in case of a ransom call - which was the official reason anyways – and who searched for clues and witnesses elsewhere. Unofficially, Andy was snooping.

When looking around the house, nothing appeared out of sorts at first glance. The boy's room was as Andy had expected of a five year old; toys strewn across the floor, LEGO pieces here and there and a large human-sized teddy bear on the bed. The rest of the house was spotlessly clean and in order. That did not change the feeling Andy had about the woman; there was something off about her story.

Mike had checked into the migraine story; it held true but only just. With Ms. Shaw's consent, Mike had contacted her doctor and she did have a history of migraines. They had been treated with mild analgesics and the last reported incident was over two years ago. Denise Shaw had not contacted her doctor about any new attacks since then, which, of course, was not proof she didn't get migraines still.

Presently, Head-shrink Joe was in the living room with Denise Shaw. From the two uninterrupted minutes Andy had with the shrink, he had learned that Denise Shaw's state of mind was very fragile. Andy could have figured that out for himself without a fancy doctorate though. It was obvious, implicated in the crime or not, that the woman was falling apart by the seams. Hysterical, Provenza would say. Not that anyone could blame her. Andy would have felt more sympathy for the woman if her story was more reliable.

No one had seen her or the boy at the playground. Not even a family who had been there around the time of the disappearance. The neighbors said Denise Shaw was very protective of her boy; she rarely let him out of her sight, and yet she had waited two hours to report the boy missing. She had gone all the way home before she had called the police. Which she could easily have done from the playground; her cellphone had been in her possession. A young couple two streets over had seen a woman fitting Denise Shaw's description walk past their yard around 3 pm, but with no boy, and she had been walking in the wrong direction; away from her house.

Ms. Shaw's story was full of holes.

Andy watched as Provenza's car came within view and parked on the curb next to his Crown Vic. Finally time for a change of guard, Andy was itching to get out and do something more productive.

Andy greeted his partner with a familiar nod, his eyes zeroed in on the tray in Provenza's hands. There was two large Styrofoam cups in the holder.

"That for me?" Andy asked, already reaching out to grab one of the cups.

"No, it's for the other idiot standing in front of me," Provenza grumbled in true fashion.

Andy rolled his eyes and fake laughed, "Ha ha."

He took a sip from the cup and was greeted by the bitter taste of mocha mixed with sugar and coffee; sure to get him going. When the case was over, he needed to do a serious detox. The amount of sugared coffee he had consumed in the last couple of days was outrageous.

Provenza was wearing his white hat and carrying a newspaper under his arm. Andy was sure it was only used for crossword puzzle solving. Provenza was very capable of multitasking like that; solving word puzzles while observing whichever, in this case; Denise Shaw.

"Did you see Sharon after her meeting with Taylor?" Andy asked Provenza.

Provenza immediately drew a heavy sigh as if the question weighed him down. "Yeah."

"Well?" Andy prompted.

"Well, nothing."

Andy narrowed his eyes; he knew when the other man was hiding something.

"What? Spill it!"

"DDA Rios also received a threat," Provenza said with a heavyset expression.

That was the last thing Andy had been prepared to hear.

"It's got to be Stroh," Andy sputtered, "C'mon, the psycho is taunting us!"

"Is this what's been eating you all day?" Provenza asked with an aggravating voice, glaring at him under the rim of his white hat, "The Captain getting that silly rose?"

Andy shrugged, "So what, doesn't it bother you? Our Captain, and Sykes," he quickly added, "getting threats?"

"Of course," Provenza said but there was something in his tone, something in his glance, which accused Andy.

"I am merely concerned," Andy defended himself, "Proportionately concerned, I might add."

"I can tell," Provenza quipped dryly.

Andy sighed and dismissed any further conversation about this by taking another slurp of the sweetened coffee. It was not an unusual feature of their professions to receive threats of one kind or another.

Andy received threats yearly, though, come to think of it, the amount had lessened somewhat in the latter years of his career. Back in the old days, Andy had even sent back replies to those idiots who had been stupid enough to post the threat with a return address. It still amazed him; the stupidity of some people. Sending threats to police officers and signing it. That took a certain level of dumb-dumb.

Andy could deal with threats to himself, but everything was different when it concerned Sharon, of that he had to admit. Things had changed. Damn. His whole world view was different from just a year ago. He flicked the edge of his Styrofoam cup thoughtfully.

"Anything new?" Provenza asked, his head tilting in the direction of the house.

"Nah," Andy sighed, "The story's the same, only now she's insistent her ex-husband did it. Went on for an hour about his flaws and how she's trying to cut off contact completely."

"Oh," Provenza pursed his mouth, "Well that's new. Last she could not think of anyone who would have a reason to take Jimmy."

"Yeah, well now she's saying it's Debor, because she was planning on moving to the East Coast. She says Debor must have gotten that information somehow and then decided to take Jimmy before she moved out of state."

Provenza sighed, "She might be right; Debor skipped out of the shelter. Sykes says, the man left all his belongings behind and had been in somewhat of a hurry. However, if the man was planning to kidnap his son, would he not take his belongings with him? And his dog?"

"He left his dog?" Andy shook his head, "Anyways, as I've said, everything about this case is ambiguous."

Provenza agreed with a nod.

After a beat of silence, Andy asked Provenza, "Did you see the note?"

Provenza rolled his eyes, "This again? You want to see the note, then ask the Captain, dammit."

"I don't want to bother her," Andy sighed.

"Well, you're bothering me."

"Well, is it explicit? Is it vague? What kind of note is it?"

Provenza shrugged, "It's not obvious, exactly."

Andy frowned. "So, you have seen it?" he prompted.

"Christ, Flynn. Yes, I have seen it," Provenza grumbled but then he seemed to reconsider, his expression softening, "It was lyrical, or whatever, and said something about death and an abyss, and something about destiny. Your everyday scumbag-nonsense. But what do I know, I'm not a poet."

Andy clenched his jaw again. Just the notion that someone was sending his Captain threats made his insides roil in fury. He would have to ask Sharon otherwise it would just continue to nag him. Most of the night, when they had both been at the house, he had done what she wanted; focusing on the case and keeping his questions to himself. Instead of asking her the same stupid questions, he had occasionally stared at her. She had more make-up on than usual and her hair had looked curlier. Her lips had been femme fatale red, and Andy had been staring at them all night. Or that is, whenever he had been sure he could get away with it. Even now he could see them; pursing when she was thinking, broadening in a smile when he made a goofy joke, or opening wide when she yawned.

"You haven't found anything in the house?" Provenza asked, waking him of his short daydream.

"Nope, everything is spick and span."

Denise Shaw hid risen to the top of the suspect pool.

…