Dirty Secrets

Part 57

"Lyla. Dinner's ready," Ryan called from the bottom of the staircase.

"Not hungry," she answered from her room.

"I made pork chops. And mac 'n cheese."

"No, thanks. I just don't--"

She was interrupted by the doorbell then heard her dad grumble, "For God's sake." He opened the door with a terse, "Now what do you want?"

She crept out of her room into the hallway where she identified Detective Morales' distinctive voice. "I'd like to speak to your daughter."

Lyla's first reaction was to hide under her bed or climb out the window, but curiosity got the better of her and she descended the stairs.

"May we come in?" Morales asked. "This is a private matter."

He waved them in with a deep sigh then shut the door behind them. They stepped over the line of salt then stood bunched in the entryway.

"Something smells good," said Steiger.

Morales said, "Last week your neighbor filed a complaint against a woman who was on your property. Rose Ames." She directed to Lyla. "Keenan Ames' mother."

"I thought the cop had that all sorted out," Ryan grumbled. "We're not pressing charges or anything like that. It's over and done with."

"I'm not so sure," the detective responded. "Ms. Perry, may I see your backpack?"

"What?"

"Wait," her father interjected. "Should we have an attorney present?"

Steiger shook his head.

"I won't examine any of the contents," Morales continued. "In fact, I promise I won't even touch your backpack. I'd just like to see it."

"Yeah. I mean, okay," Lyla replied.

She went to her room and returned with her backpack, holding it by the straps for the detectives to examine.

Morales compared Lyla's bookbag to a photo on her phone, her partner looking over her shoulder. He nodded.

"What's this about?" Ryan scratched the back of his neck.

"In her statement after she was taken off your property into custody, Rose Ames said she wanted payback. She accused your daughter of murdering her two sons."

"That's ridiculous."

"Your neighbor heard her."

"Probably half the neighborhood heard her," said Ryan. "She was drunk and screaming like a banshee."

She turned to Lyla. "Ms. Perry, do you know a girl named Amelia Czarnecki?"

"Amelia? Yeah, I think I know who she is."

"She's a junior at your high school."

"Yeah. Maybe."

"She has the same bookbag as you," said Steiger, gesturing to Lyla's.

"Lots of kids do."

"She's about your height," Morales continued. "Similar hair, about the same build. Do you own a denim jacket?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Look, my dinner's getting cold," said Ryan. "Is there a point to any of this?"

"Yesterday afternoon, Amelia Czarnecki was stabbed a few blocks from your high school."

"Wait. What?" Lyla's eyes went wide.

"She was attacked from behind. Didn't see her assailant."

"A neighbor found her lying on a sidewalk a few blocks from the high school bleeding out," said Steiger. "Neighbor said she thought she heard a woman's voice."

"Is she..." Lyla stopped short.

"Lucky for her, EMTs got there quick. Punctured lung. She survived." Morales crossed her arms. 

"My God," said Ryan.

"From the back, with the bookbag and the denim jacket, Amelia Czarnecki looks a lot like you."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" said Ryan. "You think Rose Ames stabbed that girl because she thought she was Lyla?"

Morales replied, "There were no witnesses and Ms. Ames claims she doesn't know anything about the incident."

Steiger rolled his eyes.

The detective tucked a thumb into her waistband. "Could be I'm way off-target here and maybe these are unrelated incidents but sure feels like they're connected. Rose Ames had motive and opportunity. Plus, she's got priors."

Steiger added, "Her alibi doesn't hold water. Doesn't necessarily mean she's the guilty party, but I'm just sayin'."

"So what're you gonna do about it?" Ryan's voice went thin with worry.

"We're doing it right now," Morales replied. She turned to Lyla. "You be extra careful, young lady."

"Wait. Hold up," Ryan raised his voice. "Be careful? That's it?"

"If she shows up on your property again, call the police," Morales replied.

"Shoulda filed a complaint last time," Steiger added.

"And, of course, if she threatens or puts hands on you," Morales said to Lyla, "We can bring her in."

"So just like that?"

"You could file a restraining order, but..."

That option didn't sound promising.

"You two have a good day and be careful."

When the detectives exited, Ryan closed the door and locked it. "No more of this riding the bus," he said. "If you need to go somewhere, I'll take you."

She started up the stairs lugging her backpack.

"Lyla. How in the world did you get mixed up with these people?"

She shrugged.

"That scumbag drugged you and tried to..."

"After I broke up with him.

"And his crazy mother. Stabbing a high school kid? My God!"

"The whole family's totally insane. Obviously."

Ryan checked the door by unlocking then locking it again. He peered out onto the street through the window, then turned worried eyes back to his daughter.

"What?" she said. "I don't know what you want me to say."

He took a deep breath then said, "So... you want to have some dinner?"

"No, thanks."

On his way into the kitchen, Ryan muttered, "Pork chops are probably all dried out by now."

At the top of the stairs, she received a text. She was pleasantly surprised to see that it was from Packer.

Packer: Hi.

Lyla: Hi. How are you?

Packer: Thanks for coming to visit.

Lyla: I wanted to see you.

Packer: This is Oliver's mom.

Lyla: Oh, hi.

Packer: He wanted me to tell you he's doing better.

I'll let you know when he can have visitors.