FICTION

Forbidden Love Part 4

A Sunny Alexander-Johnson and Henry James Series By P.G. & Sharon Barnett

My name is Sunny Alexander-Johnson, and I’m Henry James, and we’re writers for Dark Sides of the Truth Magazine.

After driving back to Dark Sides, we parted company then rejoined just outside the downtown parking lot across the street from Austin police headquarters.

Resuming our inspection of twenty years of stale evidence, we discovered the photos of Gloria’s car abandoned on the side of a country road. The initial detective had been thorough, ensuring multiple pictures from every angle both outside and inside the vehicle, including the trunk.

“What are we looking for, Henry?”

“Hell if I know. So where’s the report about the car? Honda Civic, right?”

“Hang on, old man. There’s like fifty tons of manila folders in this box.”

“Uh, sometime before I die would be great.”

“James? Don’t make me punch you in the throat. Here it is, no wait. This one.”

We opened the folder and lined up the reports on the table each picking a starting point opposite one another with the intent to meet in the middle. When we did we sat back and stared at each other.

“Okay, what did we just learn, princess?”

“That she got out of the car.”

“And we know this how?”

“No keys in the ignition, and more importantly, no purse. I seriously doubt she wasn’t traveling without a purse or a clutch or at least a wallet of some kind.”

“Where’s the DNA and fingerprint report?

“Uh, right here. It says what we already know. Prints and DNA matches from her mother, father, Gloria’s, and Jason Bowers, and a few unidentifiable.”

“What do you mean, unidentifiable?”

“Henry, I don’t make this crap up. I’m just reading what it says. Several DNA samples and prints were unidentifiable.”

“Strange, don’t you think?”

“Not really. Not everybody’s in the system, Henry. Plus, DNA analysis back then wasn’t as mature as it is now. If I recall, forensic DNA testing was only about fifteen years old at the time.”

“Agreed, but why park the car there?”

“What?”

“Why did Gloria park the car where she did, then get out? Plus, where the hell was she going?”

“Good question, Henry. Okay, it says here Gloria’s home is 30 minutes from downtown in the Windsor Park subdivision. And according to this, they found her car on Redbud trail about ten minutes from Wild Basin.”

“Which means Gloria certainly wasn’t going home after she and Jason left the movies. What was her final destination?”

“Only she could tell us that.”

“What about her mother? Maybe she knew something.”

“Henry, everything we’ve seen in these reports indicates exactly the opposite. She was asked that same question by every single investigator, including Charlie.”

“I think we need to take a run at her.”

“Then, we need to let Charlie know.”

“Why would we do that, princess? That’s not how we usually roll.”

“Henry, this is the first time the Austin police has ever requested our involvement on something. The last thing I think we should do is go rogue and start doing our own thing.”

“Fine. But you heard what Charlie said this morning. He’s got other irons in the fire. He may not have time to tag along.”

“Let’s at least call him and let him know.”

“Suit yourself, princess.”

We called Charlie from one of our cell phones, placed the call on speaker, and hunched over the phone.

“Alvarez.”

“Charlie. It’s Sunny and Henry. We need to ask you a question.”

“Yeah, Sunny, what’s up?”

“Henry and I would like to have a conversation with Gloria’s mother. Maybe we can learn where Gloria was going that night.”

“Had the same idea. It’s the location of Gloria’s car, right? None of the detectives, myself included ever figured out where she was going. Her mother didn’t know either. Do either of you speak Spanish?”

“Uh, why?”

“Henry, Gloria’s mother doesn’t speak English fluently. It’s broken at best. You’ll have a better conversation with her if one of you speaks her native tongue.”

“Okay, so what about you, Charlie? Are you in a position today to go with us?”

“Not really, Henry. I’ve got at least five cases I’m working.”

“Henry, what about Roberto?”

“Good idea, princess. Charlie, we’ve got somebody who works with us who speaks Spanish fluently. If we can get him, do we have your permission to go see Mrs. Salitos?”

“Sure. Just keep me in the loop if you find anything useful.”

Roberto was sitting in his car in front of the Salitos’ home, a tiny clapboard home with peels of paint curling away from most of the wood. There was a rusty wire fence ringing an even smaller front yard spotted with bleak-looking patches of grass and large clumps of weeds.

We parked behind his car and gathered in the space between the two parked cars. The neighborhood seemed to possess more than its share of boarded up homes or those condemned by the city. Why the woman continued to live in this house was a mystery.

“Hey Roberto, sorry for the short notice.”

“No problem Henry. Tim and I were just getting started on a piece about the city council meeting this week. So what’s going on here?”

We gave Roberto the nickel tour on what we wanted to do and his responsibility as our interpreter. The three of us followed the cracked concrete sidewalk beneath an arched gateway to the front door, knocked on the door, and stepped back.

An elderly woman opened the door slightly and peered at us cautiously. Although age lines creased the corners of her mouth and her forehead, and hair almost fully grey, it was clear to see this woman was Gloria’s mother. The resemblance was simply uncanny.

“Senora Salitos?”

“Si.”

“Me llamo Roberto De La Cruz. Estos son Henry James y Sunny Alexander-Johnson. Nos gustaría hablar con usted sobre su hija Gloria.”

“La has encontrado? ¿Has encontrado a mi Gloria?

“Henry, she wants to know if we’ve found her.”

“Tell her, no, but we’re helping Charlie Alvarez, and anything she can tell us may help.”

“No, pero estamos ayudando a Charlie Alvarez, y cualquier cosa que nos pueda decir puede ayudar.”

The old woman’s eyes twinkled and a smile crossed her face at the mention of Charlie’s name. She nodded and pulled the door back.

“Entra por favor. El Sr. Alvarez siempre es bienvenido aquí. Es un hombre muy amable.”

We followed the woman into the home and sat where she gestured, a tiny couch in what was a small box of a living room. Although the outside of the house appeared to lack even the most basic of maintenance, the inside was immaculate.

For a few seconds, we all stared at one another, and as Mrs. Salitos remained silent, we assumed that was our queue to go first.

“Roberto, ask her why after all these years she’s still in this house. This neighborhood has seen better days, and her living here by herself can’t be an ideal situation for her.”

“Señora Salitos. ¿Por qué sigues aquí en esta casa? ¿No sería mejor vivir tal vez con un pariente?”

Mrs. Saitos offered us a winsome smile, then wiped away a few errant drops of moisture suddenly forming in the edges of both eyes as she spoke. A pained look creased Roberto’s face as he translated.

“She says if she was to move, Gloria would not know how to find her when she comes back. This is where Gloria will come when she finally comes home.”

“Ah damn, okay, ask her if she knew where Gloria was going that night.”

“After the movies, Sunny?”

“Yes.”

As Roberto posed the question, the shake of the elderly woman’s head led us to believe we’d reached a dead end. Her brief answer confirmed it.

“She says she has no idea.”

“Now what, Henry?”

“Ask her if we can take a look at Gloria’s room. We may as well snoop around a bit before we leave. Maybe something will jump out at us.”

Read On — Forbidden Love Part 5