Pieces Of The Heart
It has been three months since Edwin Charles Lexington III’s wife had died. Edwin (Ed) had always hated his name. His grandparents immigrated from England in the 1800’s and had wanted to keep some of their heritage, so they had continued the name. The first Edwin Charles Lexington, had been a member of the House of Lords and a Lord himself. He was Lord of Lexington or something like that. Ed had always wanted to change his name, but now, at 76 he realized that there were more important things than a name.
Edwin’s life truly began when he joined the Marines at 18. He was a gym rat as they were called, but the Marines taught him more about his body and how to handle himself than any time in the gym could have. He had trained his body to become a fighting machine and at 22 1/2, he was on a mission in Rome, Italy when he saw his wife for the first time.
Sitting in his office, Ed closed his eyes and remembered seeing her. He was sitting at a diner having breakfast before meeting his contact. He was just getting ready to start a new mission when he saw her. She was walking down the block closest to his side of the street, looking into store windows as she passed. She was wearing a long, flowing flower print dress that came down to her ankles. Her face was partially hidden by a huge hat (a hat that later became an inside joke) that was almost haphazardly placed on her head. What Ed could see of her face was round and rather mousy, but her eyes shown a bright and clear blue like the ocean. His breath caught in his throat and he watched her, unable to move as if struck by lightening. She walked toward his table where his breakfast remained untouched for the moment. As she passed him, they both caught each others eyes and for a split second, even the wind seemed to stop.
Then she was passing by him making her way down the street. He watched her until he couldn’t see her anymore. He long brown hair swishing with the breeze, marking her steps in time to her swaying hips. Once she was gone, he let his breath out in a whoosh and finally realized how long he had been sitting, just watching her.
Finishing his pastry, Ed thought to himself, I need to see her again. There is something about her that obviously caught my attention long enough to pull me away from my own thoughts… Looking down at his watch, Ed cursed and hurriedly shoved some bills onto the table and quickly left.
Ed opened his eyes, looking around at his office. His profession after leaving the Marines was a Horologist. Carla had teased him incessantly on the name. To be fair, he thought back and couldn’t’ remember what it was she did with her time while he was working… So long ago, he sighed to himself. She was so young and full of life. Sighing out loud this time, Ed looked at his desk and got to work on the stack of papers; papers of their life together. Since his wife died, Ed had not gone through a single thing in their house, preferring to let the objects take him to the places he loved most; his time with Carla.
However, in his group therapy class, the therapist suggested they should remove all of the things in their homes that cause them pain, especially relating to their deceased spouse. For Ed, that had proved rather difficult, as every time he had tried to get rid of something, it felt as if he were trying to get rid of a piece of his heart. So far, he had not been able to let go of anything… Even their room was exactly the way she had left it. Ed slept on his side of the bed, and had yet to touch hers, as if in changing something, he would loose her, and a part of himself.
So, sitting at his desk three months later, Ed had decided to start looking through their papers to see if he could at least fathom getting rid of something. Despite the therapists suggestion, every time Ed picked up one of the papers from the desk, his vision blurred with tears and his heart broke again and again. Just seeing her flowing handwriting (the words Blood, DNA, and Danger, on one page), her quick but distinct notes written in the margins on her journals, froze his hands and his memory returned to happier times, deliberately not wanting to deal with the loss. His mind endlessly wandered over the words, but couldn’t make sense of them. After 15 minutes of trying to make a decision on something, Ed gave up and went into their bedroom to lie down on the bed.
THEIR room, as his mind stubbornly refused to call it anything else, was maintained exactly the way she had it when she was alive, except for her favorite necklace; her St. Christopher medallion which she had been wearing when she died. To Ed, every single item in the room had taken over his heart to try to fill the hole that Carla left. And that missing medallion…it was a huge piece. He felt as if without that medallion, his heart would never mend. He had spent so many hours searching for her medallion, going to every possible place where it could have landed, talking to every person who knew her, sending out missing posters and talking to every cop in the area, but he had so far been unsuccessful. Thinking once more of the medallion, Ed looked around their room, imagining her in it. Carla, a very catalogued and practical woman, had organized their room. Lying down on their bed, careful not to adjust her side except to caress the sheet, Ed fell asleep.
***
He awoke to the doorbell several hours later, and shaking sleep from his eyes, Ed went to the door. To his surprise, it was not his former secretary Judy, but two police detectives.
“Mr. Edwin Lexington,” the detective started, hesitating as he read the notation next to his name. Ed waited patiently for the man to finish. “The Third?” The detective concluded his question.
Ed cleared his throat, “Yes, that’s me.”
“We’re detectives Moore and Conner from the precinct. We just came by to finish our report on your wife’s accident. May we come in?”
***
Ed stepped back from the doorway and motioned for them to come in. Detective Moore was a very beefy man with a huge gut, massive cheeks and dark brown eyes. Detective Conner was quite the opposite. She was tiny in well, everything, but made up for it completely with her intellect, something Ed discovered quickly.
Detective Conner stepped through the doorway, taking a quick but calculating glance around and then moved toward the couch. She sat down with a grace that surprised Ed. Detective Moore, as mentioned before, was her opposite. He squeezed himself through the doorway, watching his big feet as they trampled a thick track through the carpet. He lugged himself over to the couch and sat down with a groan. Watching this carefully, Ed saw the couch sag noticeably with Detective Moore’s weight.
Once the detectives were seated, Ed asked, “What can I do for you?”
Detective Moore stated, “Do you remember any other details from the night your wife died?”
Ed, closing his eyes, sighed and spoke in a wavering voice, “I remember the phone call. I think I spoke with Sargent Jones about it. Carla called me and mentioned something she wanted to tell me, but not what it was. The only thing that I remember, is there was a man’s voice behind Carla…” Here Ed’s lips tightened and his forehead creased trying hard to focus.
“I think the man said ‘She…sorry…never…again.’ I’m not entirely sure, but that’s what it sounded like he said, and then Carla hung up. A few minutes later, the car hit her.”
Ed opened his eyes to see Detective Connor watching him sympathetically. Detective Moore on the other hand, squinted his eyes thinking. Finally Detective Moore nodded his head, and he asked very slowly, “Do you remember anything else?”
Ed shook his head, “That’s all I remember. The Sargent already knows everything else.”
He paused, “Is there any new information on my wife’s accident?”
Detectives Moore and Connor exchanged a look, and Connor turned to Ed, “There is nothing more we can tell you at this time, we are doing everything we can to close our case. Hopefully that won’t take too much longer.”
The detectives rose from the couch, and Ed shaking their hands, asked once more, probing for information, “How much longer, do you think?”
Here, Detective Connor, showing her stunning intellect, surprised Ed and Moore by saying, “We have a small problem with the car that hit your wife, but…” (she held up her hand, as Ed started to speak) “there is nothing you can do to help; please let us handle it.” As she finished speaking, she caught Ed’s eye and raised her eyebrow slightly. Ed hung his head, as if defeated and nodded slowly.
“Well, thank you for all you do, and please, let me know if you need anything else.” Ed stated, opening his front door. Detective Moore shuffled passed trying not to hit either Ed or the doorframe as he squeezed his bulk through. Detective Connor turned to Ed, “Thank you for your time Mr. Lexington” She stepped out of the door, then turned back, “Mr. Lexington, the car that hit your wife, was unregistered, had no plates, and was wiped clean of any prints, including those that should have come from the man who confessed.” Connor paused, “So far, there is no information about that car, except that the car might have been involved in another hit and run a few months prior to your wife’s accident.” she again raised her eyebrow.
“Have a good-day detectives.” Ed closed the door and sank to the floor.
Leaning his head against the door, he took some gulping breaths and stood. He needed to find out all the information he could about the car. Ed walked into the kitchen, to the phone. He dialed a number and listened until someone answered.
“Judy, this is Ed, Could you come over? I have some new information about Carla, and I could really use your expertise.”
Judy, her excellent soprano voice came through the phone clear and strong despite her age, “Of course, what time should I be there?”
Ed, nervously replied, “As soon as you can get here, and Judy, thank you.”
“I’ll see you soon, Ed.”
Ed’s heart still gave a little flutter every time he talked to Judy. He paced the house puzzling over the new information, and the way Detective Connor raised her eyebrow. By this time, he had worn a slightly visible path through his carpet, anyone who knew Ed, knew this was a very familiar path for him when he was nervous, stressed, or talking on the phone.
The doorbell rang, and Ed shaking the nervousness out of his hands, reached the door in three giant steps, opened it.
Standing under the porch stood Judy. Judy, the 60-something senior was nearly 10 years Ed’s junior, however, at that age, 10 years is nothing. She was small, and petite, with a tight mouth and white wiry hair. He eyes, green with gold flecks shined seeing Ed.
Ed pulled her into a welcoming embrace and escorted her into the kitchen where he had set out a small cheese and cracker spread, a fruit bowl and some punch. Judy couldn’t help but notice how Ed watched her as she picked up a plate and placed some cheese and crackers on it and sat back while Ed filled her in.
Judy was a smart, bookish woman, knew what Ed was going to ask of her, and waited patiently. Ed smiled and said, “Judy, would you help me look into this? I would greatly appreciate it…” As he said this, he grabbed her hand and held it gently.
Judy had been with Ed, closing up the shop when Ed received the news of Carla’s accident. She had been the one to comfort him. She was there the day the police questioned him, the day he fell apart in the grocery aisle and saw her favorite seasoning, and the day they told him what little details they could about the accident. She was also the same person who suggested the therapist group to him. She was, in many ways the person closest to him, now that Carla was gone.
Judy, leaving her hand in Ed’s nodded and looked into his eyes. She saw hope in them for the first time in three months. Her heart fluttered and she became acutely aware of their hands together. she pulled her hand free and had a bite of cracker. Once finished, Judy seated herself at Ed’s desk and began to do her research.
Several hours later, Judy cried out, “Ed, come look at this!” Ed jumped, he had been dozing and now rushed into his office.
“What did you find?” Ed asked almost breathlessly.
Judy had previously had a rebellious streak and spent several months in her 30’s doing ‘work release’ as a secretary at the police station. Despite her rebellious ways, or because of them, Ed had hired her shortly after she was released from her ‘job’ for good behavior. One of her responsibilities was cataloguing, and processing crime/accident photos and other documents.There is one saving grace that an error has allowed her to have access to those files even now. She realized this mistake a number of years ago when clearing out her old email address and saw some emails regarding newer cases. When she clicked on one of the files, it still opened to her.
Now, Judy pointed to the screen. On the page was a security clip that showed a car with no plates. Pressing play, the car drove down a street, swerving to hit someone on the sidewalk, then spun off the screen, leaving the person lying in the road. Judy cringed and Ed winced.
“Is there anything else?” Ed asked carefully. Judy pulled up another screen, this one showing the police report. Judy pointed out a few details to Ed. “The car is listed as a compact, with an extended bumper that has been reinforced. The color could be a cobalt blue or black, so far, the paint seems to be a mix of those two colors, making an ID harder.” Judy continued. “The victim was Todd Brown, a high-powered city attorney who has prosecuted cartel members, so the police initially thought this was a cartel hit. However, this car being in both cases, has caused the police to investigate them together.” Judy scrolled and gasped. “Ed, do you notice anything similar about your wife and the other victim?”
Ed peered over Judy’s shoulder, looking intently at a blown up picture of Todd Brown. “Um…” Ed hesitated. “Maybe…”
Judy hurumped. “Ed, don’t you see how similar they are to each other?! Why, they could be siblings!”
Ed, looking incredulous, shook his head, looked closer, and then sighed, “Well, I guess so…”
Judy nodded her head and said, “Do you know if Carla had any siblings?”
Ed shook his head vigorously side to side. “No, she was an only child.“
Judy waited patiently while Ed finished and then hedged, “Is it possible she was keeping secrets from you?”
Ed stared at her in shock. “Carla, keeping secrets from me?!” He laughed and raised an eyebrow. “Judy, that woman told me everything, including when she had a sex dream about that Scottish actor, um, Sean Connery. Carla wouldn’t know how to keep a secret if it fit into her pocket and she could carry it!”
“Alright Ed.” Judy reasoned calmly. “But you do have to admit, they look too similar for it to be a coincidence…”
The silence of contemplation hung in the air for a few minutes as each considered. Finally Judy remarked, “The other information we have about the situation is as follows, Todd Brown was heading home from the store after picking up some groceries for dinner. He was on the right side of the road and never saw the car coming. The driver of the mystery car never touched his brakes or slowed down. In fact, in the video it appears that the driver accelerated slightly. The paint, the police have dubbed, “Mystery” has been mixed in such a way that the paint chips that come off on the victims are not just one color. So far, the paint is untraceable…” Here, both Judy and Ed’s faces fell. The word “untraceable” lingered between them.
Ed stretched hos shoulders, “Ok, so far, the car is not traceable by paint. There are no plates, no prints in the car, and its not registered. Is there any way to get a look at the driver?” Ed asked hopeful. Judy shook her head, “The only clip is this one with the camera angle not able to see into the driver’s seat. This is an unsolved case, the only similarity being the car that hit your wife and Todd Brown. So far, everything could add up to both of these being cartel hits, but the question that remains is, why Carla?” Judy and Ed tossed around some very pointless conjecture for half an hour and then Judy replied, “Well, I must be getting home. I can come back tomorrow if you would like to do any more digging.”
Ed nodded, noting the time and consulted his calendar. “Does three o’clock work for you?”
Judy turned to Ed, “Yes, Is there anything else I can do before I go?”
Ed, sensing something more, thought for a moment then said, “No, but thank you though. I’ll see you tomorrow at three.”
Judy feeling the energy shift between them, said, “Alright, goodnight Ed.” Then walked herself to the door and left.
Ed, feeling embarrassment creep into his cheeks, quickly saved everything on the computer. Making his way slowly toward the kitchen, Ed prepared a small dinner and ate his food in silence, his thoughts turning toward Todd Brown and Carla. Did she keep secrets? Why the words, Blood, DNA and Danger? If this is a cartel killing, why Carla? Is this even cartel related? If it’s not, then what is it? All of those thoughts spinning through Ed’s head at once made him feel drowsy. In the background, the clock chimed. Ed had always loved the concept of time. To him, time was the most precious commodity, the thing that the universe had to answer to. As he grew older, even the Marines had a strict adherence to time. Everything revolved around time, until he met Carla. Then time held no meaning for him anymore. Carla was all that mattered.
Ed finished his reflection on the past and returned to the present. Refocusing on the task at hand, Ed nodded to himself as if making a decision. He left the table and went back to his office. Booting up his computer, Ed searched for all car mechanics and paint repair places and made himself a list. Tomorrow, I will go to work. He promised himself before snuggling into bed for the night.
***
The next morning, Ed awoke early and grabbing his list started his own investigation. After several failed attempts, Ed stumbled onto a mechanic who said he had worked on a car that had several paint colors. The mechanic mentioned that the car had been brought in by one man, picked up by a different man, and paid for in cash. Ed jotted down the mechanic’s description of the two men. Towards the end of Ed’s questioning, the mechanic began to give half answers, or none at all. When Ed asked his last question, the mechanic shrugged and Ed knew his was at the end of his answers. Ed thanked the man and left.
Excited by this new information and the potential implications of it, Ed hurried to the last paint repair place he had on his list. The man had also seen those two men the mechanic described, paid in cash, and asked for that specific paint job. The auto painter remembered a few more details. He said one of the men referred to the other as “Jim” and the other one as “Fred.” He also mentioned that the two men spent most of the time on their phones and looking out at the street. Once, when a couple of cops sped by, both the men ducked low under the windows and shielded their faces with their coats.
Ed hurried home from the auto-body shop and did some cleaning before Judy arrived. Judy, prompt as ever, arrived at exact three o’clock. She stood on his stoop with a mischievous grin on her face when he opened the door. Checking out her smile Ed raised his eyebrow, “What’s with the grin?”
Judy whose smile widened spoke, “Ed, I have some marvelous news. I got some big pieces of information! I know we talked about looking into this more today, but I couldn’t help myself, so last night after I went home, I did a little more researching.” She beamed, “I think I found the man who was driving the car the night that Todd Brown died!”
“What?!” Ed exclaimed. “How did you do that?”
“I have a friend who works in the bookstore right across the street from the hit and run. She claims she saw the whole thing, including the driver! Last night after she gave me his description, I searched for him in the police mugshots. He stood out because of the cut through his right eyebrow! His name is Jim Morrison!”
Here Ed interjected, “I found the mechanic and painter who worked on the car and the painter said one of the men was named “Jim.” Grasping her hands, Ed gave a little excited jig! “We are getting one step closer to figuring this out!” Judy just as excited said, “There’s more. But, Ed, this is bad.” They both stopped holding hands. “Ed,” Judy began, “Jim Morrison is a bagman for the mafia!”
Ed, eyebrows raised in shock, stuttered, “Th..The MAFIA? Godfather mafia, like ‘I will make him an offer he can’t refuse?’” Ed finishes in a pretty good imitation of Vito Corleone. Judy grimacing, nods. “Yes, THAT mafia.”
Ed sat down on the edge of the couch, his brow furrowed, thinking. Judy sat next to him and says, “Ed, I don’t even want to think of this possibility, but, is there any way that Carla was involved with the mafia?”
Ed, exhausted by his own thoughts, turned an almost dazed look at her. “It..It would be unthinkable..” Ed said without much emotion. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Ed asked almost timidly, “There is another name that was mentioned, “‘A Fred,’ do you think we could look into him as well?”
Judy heartbroken, squeezed his hand and walked toward the office to start working on that name. A few minutes later, Judy heard the springs squeak on the couch and Ed’s footsteps moving towards the office. Judy, hunched over the computer and typing quickly was already signed into her old police account and was searching for a ‘Fred.’ After a few minutes of searching and using Ed’s description, they found the ‘Fred’ they were looking for. His name was Fred Anders and he was a driver for the mafia.
Now that they knew this wasn’t a cartel killing but a mafia hit, the next step was to figure out what Carla had to do with it, and who was driving the night she was killed.
Ed said, “Judy, let’s go see your friend, the one who works at the bookstore.” Judy nodded and grabbed their coats as they left.
When they arrived at the bookstore, Judy introduced her friend as Connie, the friend who saw the hit and run. Connie answered Ed’s questions like a pro and in no time, Ed and Judy had a pretty clear picture of what happened. Judy and Ed said goodbye and walked toward the door. “I have something for you, Ed.” Connie said sheepishly. “Ive only just remembered that I have it, once you mentioned Carla and why you were asking me those questions.”
Turning around, they both watched in absolute confusion and delight as Connie pulled a St. Christopher medallion from under her desk. “This belonged to Carla, and well, I guess it now belongs to you. Carla gave it to me the morning she was killed.” She sniffled, “We were good friends and she told me to keep it safe if anything happened to her. After she died, I didn’t know who to give it to since it seemed like an accident, and I had no way of contacting you. If I had known that you knew Judy, I would have gotten it to you much sooner.” She dropped the medallion into Ed’s shaking hands. With tears in his eyes, “Thank you” his breath catching in his throat. Holding it close to his heart, Ed turned it over and over. Suddenly noticing that his finger kept catching on something on the back of the medallion.
Moving it closer to his eyes, Ed saw a tiny nick on the back that he had not noticed before. Using a nail file that he borrowed from Connie, Ed removed the back of the medallion. Inserted inside was a small vial with what looked like blood.
Finally deciding to loop in the police, Ed called Detectives Moore and Connor and asked them to come to his house. While they waited, Ed and Judy double checked their own detective work and stacked it into a pile.
The doorbell rang and Ed rushed to get it. Detectives Moore and Connor stood in the doorway once more looking into the house while they talked on the stoop. Moore cleared his throat, “You said on the phone you have some information for us?”
Ed stepped back and let them in. Judy stood and introduced herself. Once they were all seated, Ed passed the papers to the detectives. Both began to pour over the information, whispering to each other, each showing the other parts of the page they were looking at. After what seemed like hours, but was only a few minutes, Moore cleared his throat again, “Well, this is what we have pieced together as well. We didn’t know that both Jim and Fred were working together on this, but most of the rest of the information is what we have.” Moore stopped speaking, and signaled to Connor.
Connor continued, “We have just a little bit more for you. The vial of blood you found in your wife’s medallion, congratulations on finding that by the way, is actually DNA proof that mafia boss Anderson Cooper has kids.”
Here, Connor shifted in her seat and then locked eyes with Ed. “Ed, both the vial and your wife share some of the same DNA. Ed, your wife is one of Anderson Cooper’s children. The other, hopefully this will come as less surprise to you, is Todd Brown. They are half siblings. Todd knew who his father was and spent his entire life trying to bring down his empire. Your wife, on the other hand… probably didn’t know. Cooper realized that the only way to ensure his crime empire was to get rid of Brown. However, he never does anything half-assed, so he decided both his children needed to go. He never suspected that Carla, your amazing wife would have the proof on her. Not only does this prove that Anderson had his kids murdered, but because of the DNA, we are able to link him to several hits in the early 80’s when he was still a Capo.”
Watching Ed’s face as he began to realize all of the implications of the vial, and the medallion, Ed slowly looked toward the detectives again. “Thank you for coming and letting me know what actually happened. Do you know who was the driver?”
“Yes,” Moore said gruffly, “It was Fred Anders. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you detectives, if you don’t mind, I’d like some time alone to process everything.” With that the detectives left.
Ed and Judy sat on the couch in silence for a few minutes, organizing their thoughts. Judy finally spoke, hesitantly, “Ed, what can I do to help?” Ed sat, staring off into space, seeming not to have heard her. Judy cleared her throat, “Ed, tell me how to help you.” She grabbed his hand, and squeezed it. Ed, looked down at their hands and then up at Judy’s face. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out.
After hours and hours of hunting, unanswered questions, and heartbreak, Ed held the final piece of his life in his hands. He looked from his left hand (the one that held the medallion) to his right (the one that Judy was holding) and realized something. He had hunted down the greatest piece of treasure he would ever have; the missing piece of his wife. His heart was finally full and he could move on. Ed squeezed Judy’s hand and standing, pulled her toward the bedroom. Opening the door, and loosening his sanctuary on his old life, he pulled Judy to the jewelry box and placed the medallion in its proper place.
At last, turning to Judy, Ed said in a strong and clear voice, “Judy, my dear, I think it’s time you and I went on a date.
Bio: Christine McDevitt is an avid reader of authors like Stephen King, H.P. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe . She has two bachelor’s degrees, one in English and the other in History. Her passion is the written word and every opportunity she gets, she reads or writes. She is a semi-professional editor when she is not a stay at home mom, (her other passion ).
Her story “Perfect Partner” appears in the anthology “Phobia” by Free Spirit.
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