comfortable. Without another word,
he picked up the remote control, aimed it at the TV and turned to Cartoon
Network. “Anyway, I couldn’t stand hanging around there anymore, so…”
he shrugged his bony shoulders nonchalantly and looked over at her. “Since
I couldn’t go to the Center, and coach wasn’t home, I came here.”
“You know you can always crash here, kid. The sofa’s a little lumpy but
it’s all yours.”
The assuring tone in her voice made the boy smile, but when she looked
away, J.R. noticed the drawn look on her face and dark circles under her
eyes. Much wiser than most fourteen-year-old boys his age, J.R. sensed
something was bothering Casey and asked her about it.
After a moment’s hesitation, she sighed heavily and looked at the boy.
“Craig and I had a fight three days ago and I haven’t heard from him since.”
J.R. knew that his coach’s friend and Casey talked sometimes at the few
practices she went to. He was not, however, aware that the two of them had
hooked up. “So, why don’t you call him?”
“I have but his voicemail keeps picking up.”
J.R. was certain whatever she was worrying over couldn’t be good for the
baby she carried. Unsure how to help her, J.R. suggested she call Craig’s
job.
His job ! Casey thought. Why hadn’t she thought of that ? She quickly got
up to make the call.
“Amityville Police, Sgt. Piterrelli speaking.”
“Hello…I...I’m looking for Craig Simpson.”
The bombing voice belonging to officer Piterrelli was silent for so long that
Casey thought he hadn’t heard what she said. “Hello, are you there?” she
asked.
“Yes, ma’am I’m still here. Uh, may I ask who is calling?”
“I…,” Casey caught herself, before blurting out her name. Recovering
quickly, she continued, “I’m a personal friend of his.”
“Hold on a minute please.”
Before she could say anything else, classical music came on. Casey held
the receiver to her ear so long, she felt sure the man forgot he put her on
hold. Then, a new voice came through the receiver.
“Hello, ma’am, this is Captain Jackson. May I ask whom I’m speaking
with?
62
The agitation that crept into Casey’s voice turned slightly desperate as she
addressed this new person. “I told the other guy I’m a friend and I’ve been
trying for days to get in touch with Craig Simpson.” An uneasy feeling
washed over her as she tried to explain to this Captain Jackson. “Listen…if
he’s not there, can I at least leave him a message?” The dead silence that
followed her last question lasted much longer than before, making her
extremely nervous. When the man who called himself Captain Jackson
finally spoke, Casey had no idea how much his next words would change her
life forever.
“Ma’am, I’m not quite sure how to tell you this, but Officer Simpson was
shot and killed three days ago.”
J.R., who was watching television with his back to Casey, turned around
when the phone hit the floor with a thud. In a flash, he was scrambling off
the sofa as Casey hit the floor, right after the phone fell from her hands.
63
he picked up the remote control, aimed it at the TV and turned to Cartoon
Network. “Anyway, I couldn’t stand hanging around there anymore, so…”
he shrugged his bony shoulders nonchalantly and looked over at her. “Since
I couldn’t go to the Center, and coach wasn’t home, I came here.”
“You know you can always crash here, kid. The sofa’s a little lumpy but
it’s all yours.”
The assuring tone in her voice made the boy smile, but when she looked
away, J.R. noticed the drawn look on her face and dark circles under her
eyes. Much wiser than most fourteen-year-old boys his age, J.R. sensed
something was bothering Casey and asked her about it.
After a moment’s hesitation, she sighed heavily and looked at the boy.
“Craig and I had a fight three days ago and I haven’t heard from him since.”
J.R. knew that his coach’s friend and Casey talked sometimes at the few
practices she went to. He was not, however, aware that the two of them had
hooked up. “So, why don’t you call him?”
“I have but his voicemail keeps picking up.”
J.R. was certain whatever she was worrying over couldn’t be good for the
baby she carried. Unsure how to help her, J.R. suggested she call Craig’s
job.
His job ! Casey thought. Why hadn’t she thought of that ? She quickly got
up to make the call.
“Amityville Police, Sgt. Piterrelli speaking.”
“Hello…I...I’m looking for Craig Simpson.”
The bombing voice belonging to officer Piterrelli was silent for so long that
Casey thought he hadn’t heard what she said. “Hello, are you there?” she
asked.
“Yes, ma’am I’m still here. Uh, may I ask who is calling?”
“I…,” Casey caught herself, before blurting out her name. Recovering
quickly, she continued, “I’m a personal friend of his.”
“Hold on a minute please.”
Before she could say anything else, classical music came on. Casey held
the receiver to her ear so long, she felt sure the man forgot he put her on
hold. Then, a new voice came through the receiver.
“Hello, ma’am, this is Captain Jackson. May I ask whom I’m speaking
with?
62
The agitation that crept into Casey’s voice turned slightly desperate as she
addressed this new person. “I told the other guy I’m a friend and I’ve been
trying for days to get in touch with Craig Simpson.” An uneasy feeling
washed over her as she tried to explain to this Captain Jackson. “Listen…if
he’s not there, can I at least leave him a message?” The dead silence that
followed her last question lasted much longer than before, making her
extremely nervous. When the man who called himself Captain Jackson
finally spoke, Casey had no idea how much his next words would change her
life forever.
“Ma’am, I’m not quite sure how to tell you this, but Officer Simpson was
shot and killed three days ago.”
J.R., who was watching television with his back to Casey, turned around
when the phone hit the floor with a thud. In a flash, he was scrambling off
the sofa as Casey hit the floor, right after the phone fell from her hands.
63
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