Malynda McCarrick

“Do you understand why I’ve asked you to come in today, Mr. and Mrs. Todd?” The chair creaked as Sheriff Buford Tinstar tilted it back on two legs and laced his fingers over the ample girth of his meat-and-potato belly. One of his feet was wedged around a table leg, anchoring him place. Across the table he faced the tremulous faces of Charlene and Rick Todd, a well respected couple in the small town community, though their respectability was being threatened by current circumstances.
“No, Sheriff,” Rick Todd answered and reached for his wife’s hand, squeezing it on the table. “We are assuming you’ve found some new evidence…some clue about our precious Abigail?”
“Well, now, you’re right about one thing,” the sheriff drawled, chomping at some imaginary tobacco, and coming up dry. His wife made him give up the stuff, he was sorely needing it right now. “We do have a couple of suspects in the case.” He almost felt bad at the hopeful light he saw cross the other man’s face. Bad, because he wasn’t going to like to hear who those suspects were.
Sheriff Tinstar had known the Todds since they moved to Little Green Patch as newlyweds over eight years ago. He’d grown kinda fond of the couple. Rick with his greenhorn-city-way about running his acreage and Charlene with her cute little citified way of hanging out in town with the other small town folk, trying to fit in. They never did fit in, though. No matter how hard they tried. Even when they’d gone and had that cute little baby girl six years ago, cementing themselves in the community as a dad-gummed family. Nobody had ever seen the girl, but the pictures they showed around town said she was cute as a button.
“That’s wonderful. Have you arrested anyone? Did they tell you where our Abigail is?” Rick did all the talking while Charlene seemed to shrink farther into her chair, quiet and withdrawn.
“Well, now, see….here’s the thing. Those suspects I’d be talking about…well, they’d be you and the Missus, here, Mr. Todd. The evidence is overwhelming, things have been looking real suspicious. Me and my boys, well, we just can’t ignore it no more.”
The Sheriff slammed his chair to the floor and dropped his elbows to the table. Leaning in toward the Todds, he could feel the tension pouring off the couple at his statement. The folder spread out on the table between them contained several digital pictures of the adorable little girl, but the Sheriff pulled out his favorite and slapped it on the table, punctuating the move with one stabbing finger.
“Look at this precious little girl. Look at her!” The harsh lights of the interrogation room cast a glare on the glossy picture of the blonde pig-tailed angel in her favorite summer jumper. She grinned at the camera as though she’d been caught in the middle of a game of hide-and-seek, a field of green ivy not doing a very good job of camouflaging the bright red color of her dress.
“I am looking at her…she’s my baby!” The man’s shoulders shook as he sobbed, but the woman remained silent, staring at the picture but frozen in place.
“I can not imagine what would make a person want to hurt a little girl, an innocent baby. Can you imagine somebody wanting to hurt this little girl?”
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”
“Is there anything you want to tell me, Mr. Todd? Anything about what happened to your little girl?”
“…oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”
“…because now would be a good time to tell me…”
“…oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”
“…now, accidents happen. I understand that. Maybe she wasn’t behaving, and you had to spank her. Maybe you hit her a little too hard. It could happen. An accident.”
“…oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”
“Maybe you were playing, she fell down the stairs. You got scared, decided to hide the body. You panicked.”
“…oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…” A dark fog settled over the room, the sheriff could feel it closing in as he waited for one of them to talk, one of them to confess what they’d done. He wanted this case solved and closed by the end of the day. Child killers were the worst criminals he had to deal with, the most heinous of all crimes as far as he was concerned. If these two did kill that little girl, he would see to it that they were punished. He never wanted them to see the light of day again.
“What did you do with the body, Mr. Todd?”
“…oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”
“Mr. Todd?”
“What evidence?” Okay, he was not expecting this. Missus Todd…Charlene … spoke. Clear and concise. Her eyes even met his across the table. And, my my my…she seemed to be angry. “Where is this evidence you supposedly have?”
“Well, isn’t this nice. I’m glad you decided to join us, Missus Todd.”
“Cut the crap! What evidence do you have? I want to see it!”

* * *

“Reporting live in front of the Sheriff’s office, in Little Green Patch, Iowa. This is Scarlet Mayweather. We have information that Abigail Todd’s parents – Charlene and Rick Todd – have been arrested in connection with the disappearance of their six year old daughter two weeks ago today.” The reporter gripped the over sized microphone in her hand as she scoured the building’s parking lot for somebody – anybody – she could get to interview on camera. She zeroed in on a hapless deputy and plucked him from his path with red lacquered claws and a firm grip clamped around his skinny arm.
“Officer, do you have any information on the Abigail Todd case?”
“I’m sorry. That case is still ongoing.” As an afterthought he added, “no comment.”
“But surely, you can give me something here. The viewers want to know…uh, officer. Who am I speaking to?”
“Deputy Greg Polson, ma’am.”
“Deputy Polson. What all has been done to find little Abigail?”
“We’ve been searching the area, ma’am. Deputy John Redhorse is our tracking expert, he has been on the case since day one. Volunteers have been searching, knocking on doors.”
“Is it true that the parents have been arrested? Are they now considered suspects?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I have nothing further to say.” The deputy desperately tried to pull away from the aggressive reporter.
“But, Deputy…”
“Thank you. Nothing further.” He finally yanked his arm away from her and continued into the building.

* * *

“They say those two killed their own child! Mercy, can you even imagine such a thing!” Mary Maude sat in her normal booth, surrounded by friends as they sipped their coffee and ate their delicious after lunch pie.
“And she was such an adorable little girl. All that blonde hair, always pulled up in pig tails. That smile was like a ray of sunshine. And now she’s dead. Disgraceful!” Betty and her husband, Oliver, grieved for the child they’d only met in pictures and sweet stories.
“I heard when she was born that the nurses fought over who would get to hold her first. Such a precious child. Never fussy, always happy.” Lila Dotson agreed, they’d all heard the stories.
“Yes, sweet from the very day she was born. A perfect angel. Those two were blessed when that child was born. Lucky to have her.”
“I only wish I’d had the chance to meet her, to see for myself what a wonderful child she was.”
“Yes, yes, yes. I don’t think anybody ever met the girl. The parents just didn’t take her out much. Kept her indoors. Can’t blame them really. Probably wanted to keep her all to themselves while they could. Children just grow up too fast, I do declare.”
“Um, hmm.”
“What a shame. Little angel.”

* * *

She didn’t know when the situation had gotten so out of control!
What had started out as an innocent story to get her out of tedious social engagements, had snowballed into a possible murder conviction for the murder of a girl who didn’t exist! Had never existed. Would never exist. Had certainly never been murdered, abducted, or even born. Well, in a sense she’d been born. Charlene had pulled the name from a headstone she’d seen in the cemetery down the road from their remote bungalow on the fringes of the tiny town of Little Green Patch.
Charlene had always been a city girl. She hated her husband when he decided to sell the house in town and “surprise” her with the purchase of the stupid little house in the country.
Surprise!
Stupid idiot!
She couldn’t even afford to divorce the moron. He’d sunk every penny they had on the purchase of twenty acres of worthless land. He even expected her to help him grow stuff on it.
Stupid idiot!
She should have listened to her mother when she told her to run as far away from him as possible. But no! “He loves me, Momma. He has plans for us, Momma. He’s going to buy me a new house, Momma. He can afford to give me a good life, Momma.”
What a fool she’d been! Rick Todd didn’t have money. Sure, he had her fooled with all that talk of a good life. But here she was…she might as well have been the wife of Oliver Douglas on Green Acres! Little Green Patch, Iowa…upscale Manhattan life it was not!
She hated the women of Smalltown, Iowa.
So she invented a baby. It kept her busy so she never had to spend time in town, it made her respectable, and people didn’t expect to see her working in the garden if she was pregnant or had a small child to take care of.
Then she got bored.
She threatened to divorce Rick.
He decided to kill the child as revenge against her.
Only there never was a child. But the town didn’t know that. So when stupid-ass- Rick said the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong person in town one day, they were thrust into a national media storm.
What she didn’t expect was to be accused of killing her child.
She also didn’t expect for the Sheriff of Hicktown to actually find “evidence” supporting the theory that they’d killed their only – but imaginary – child!
So, here she was, facing down the surprisingly competent sheriff and trying to decide how not to hang herself.

* * *

“So, Missus Todd. Are you ready to talk?”
Separating the wife from the husband was standard procedure when questioning a suspect. This case was no different. He had already questioned the husband. The guy sang like a bird, turning on his young wife with very little urging. All that was left for the sheriff to do was squeeze a confession out of the Missus.
“I’ve already talked to your husband. He had some real interesting things to tell me about you and that little girl of yours.” Give up some information, hold some information back. Sheriff Tinstar was a pro at interrogation. “What I’d like to hear is your side of the story.”
“What did my husband tell you?” She eyed him across the table, warring emotions dancing across her face.
“Well, now, I’d rather hear what you have to say. Let’s start with you telling me exactly what happened the day your daughter was allegedly kidnapped from her bedroom. See, I’m having problems believing everything you told me about that night.”
“What did Rick tell you?”
“He told me everything…”

* * *

The jig was up!
Her rotten husband had gone and told this two-bit sheriff everything! He knew the girl never existed and was now only playing with her.
What was the worst that could happen to her now? She’d get a few years – maybe just a slap on the wrist and community service – for lying to the cops, maybe get charges for the identity theft. How bad could it be? Maybe the sheriff would show her some mercy.
Yeah.
She’d beg for mercy.
“I’m sorry, Sheriff. I really am.” The waterworks came easily to her. She threw herself into the act, tears pouring down her face, her body quaking in fear and remorse. “I had no choice. I had to do it. I had no choice!”
“No, there’s where you and I disagree.”
“No, Sheriff! I had to invent her! I just couldn’t stand my childless life anymore, I yearned for a child of my own! Once I’d invented her, there was no turning back! Don’t you see?”
“Your husband told me you would say that.”
Charlene stared at the stiff, angry lawman facing her down from across the cold steel table top. This was not going well. Her tears weren’t working on the man. What was so wrong about what she’d done, anyway? Nobody had been hurt and she was willing to admit she’d been wrong in doing it.
“My husband told you that I would say what…exactly?” She sniffed.
“He said you would never admit to killing the girl. That you would try to tell me some wild story about inventing her, that she never existed. It won’t work. We know the truth. Now why don’t you just admit you killed your only child and tell us where you hid the body?”
For the first time, shuddering fear raced down her spine. What had Rick done? She needed to talk to him and find out what he’d said to the sheriff.
“Come on, Missus Todd. Cut the act. Maybe we can go easy on you if you’d just tell us where she is. Your husband would like to bury his precious little girl.”
“She…why, she…Sheriff! Honestly! She never existed! I invented her…WE invented the girl! You have to believe me! Check it out. Go to the hospital, look for a birth certificate, search our home. You’ll find no evidence of Abigail Todd ever having been born. Please!”
“Again, you’re wrong. We’ve already checked with the hospital. We have a copy of the birth certificate…perfect little six pound girl. Full head of reddish blonde hair, I saw the hospital picture and the birth announcement.” Horrified, Charlene watched as the sheriff pushed back his chair, hauled one foot up to rest it on the opposite knee and imprisoned her with cold stare, his pen tapping an angry beat on the folder he held in his lap. “What I also found was a million dollar life insurance policy on the girl, naming you as beneficiary. A policy you bought only six months before the girl disappeared. Got your signature on it. Handwriting expert already confirmed it’s yours.”

* * *

The sheriff held the door for Rick Todd as he left the building – and his poor misguided wife – behind. Shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight of the beautiful summer day, he felt the urge to skip but restrained himself, it wouldn’t look right. He’d just lost his baby girl and his wife had just been arrested for her murder.
Tragic, really.
It’s something that would send any normal man into a desperate tailspin of grief.
If it were true.
His lips quirked, then tightened. He had to keep it under control.
Framing his gold-digging wife for the murder of their imaginary daughter was priceless! Even better, she hadn’t seen it coming!
Life was good. And he had a million dollars in the bank.
Life was very good!