Page 33 of Every Broken Piece
I peer into her refrigerator and just like she said there’s not much there. A few cans of soda, a Styrofoam takeout container that probably needs to be tossed, and half a bottle of orange juice.
“I have information on the woman in the hospital lobby,” Jack says.
I close the refrigerator door to stare out the small window above the sink with a view of the brick wall next door. Small plastic cups filled with water and plant clippings in various stages of growth are lined up on the windowsill. My fingers drum a staccato on the edge of the sink.
Detective Hardwick text me the name of the woman who’d been causing a scene in the hospital lobby. I asked Jack to look into Sandra Jansen.
“What’d you find?” I ask.
“A lot, brother. A whole lot that makes me wonder if you should be involved in any of this.”
My fingers still. So my gut was right. “Go on.”
“Sandra Jansen has a criminal record longer than my arm and your arm put together, going all the way back to her teens. Prostitution, drugs—both the selling of and the use of—theft, con artist shit, domestic violence, assault. You want me to go on?”
I run a hand through my hair. The pipes in the wall beside me rattle as Tess turns on the shower. “Tell me everything.”
“Gabe. Damn... This is bad shit.”
“Just tell me.” Premonition and that gut feeling turn my blood cold.
“Sandra has two kids. Girls. Oldest is Scarlett. Thirty-five years old. Followed in mom’s footsteps and is serving time in Decatur Correctional Facility in Illinois.
Was slapped with seven to ten for driving the getaway car in an armed robbery.
She’s three years into her sentence. She doesn’t have an extensive record like her mom, but it’s close.
Drugs mainly, some prostitution. Was married, since divorced.
Seems she and her husband liked to beat on each other.
Both seem to be equally guilty of that.”
There’s a small breakfast bar that separates the kitchen from the dining area. I make my way around it to sink onto one of the barstools.
“You said two daughters.” My voice is tight with premonition of what he’s about to say.
“Second daughter is Theresa Jansen.” He pauses and I find myself holding my breath.
“Age thirty.” Jack’s voice lowers like he knows what this is doing to me.
“She has no criminal record. In fact, I couldn’t find anything on Theresa Jansen after she turned twenty-one.
It’s like she disappeared. It got me thinking, you know? ”
I know. Jack can’t let a mystery go, not if he thinks he can solve it. And not if it has anything to do with anyone he cares about. Since I’m interested in Sandra Jansen and her daughter Theresa, he cares.
“I started digging deeper,” he says. “Poking through court records in the area that Sandra and her girls lived. They moved around a lot but for the most part they stuck to Illinois and the Chicago area.”
I lean my elbows on the cracked Formica and push my thumb and forefinger into my closed eyes as the story slowly rolls out of Jack.
“Seems Theresa Jansen changed her name. Started a new life as Theresa James. Graduated with an associate’s degree in business administration from an online school a few years later.
Worked for a little mom and pop company for about a year before dear old mom found her and started hassling her.
She got a job with TaskGenius, left Chicago and spent the next few years sporadically moving around the area until she settled in Cincinnati two years ago. ”
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“There’s more,” Jack says softly.
How? How can there be more? What Tess has been through... Growing up with a mother like that. I can’t wrap my mind around any of it.
“Gabe?” Jack asks. “You still with me?”
I rub my free hand down my face, scratching my beard. I’m hollowed out. Feel like I’ve been kicked in the stomach over and over. How do I face her without letting on that I know ?
“I’m here,” I grind out.
“Tess has restraining orders filed against her mother, but that doesn’t stop Sandra. There’s some heavy shit I dug up from her childhood too. CPS. Police reports.”
“Send it all to me.” I straighten. The shower turned off a while ago. I’d heard the bathroom door open and close then nothing. I need to check on her, but first I need to get my shit together before I can face her.
“I’m sorry, man.”
I stare at the chipped Formica, trying to corral all these emotions fighting for dominance inside me. Rage is winning right now, and I can’t let it win. Not yet. Later, when I’m alone, but not now.
“She’s not safe here,” I say more to myself, but to Jack as well.
“No. Sandra knows where she is. It had to have been the newspaper article that tipped her off. If she goes by past behavior, she’ll hound Tess until Tess is forced to run again.”
My gaze darts to the boxes stacked along the wall. I’d thought she was moving in, but maybe she’s moving out.
“Do you think the attack was because of her mother?” Jack asks.
“Possibly. But why? Why have your own daughter attacked? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe it’s not Sandra. Maybe it’s the company she keeps. I don’t know, Gabe, but you gotta get Tess out of there. And you have to get out of there too.”