Until I Find You - Rea Frey Page 0,3

front door is open.” Saying it out loud makes me take another few steps toward the street.

“Don’t move. I’ll call the police.”

“You don’t have to call the police.”

“Rebecca, I’m calling the police. Do not go into the house. Do you hear me? I’ll be right there.”

I exhale and push and pull Jackson’s stroller in a lulling motion until Jess arrives.

“God, I hate running,” she pants. Her tennis shoes thud to a halt. She hitches forward and rests her hands on her knees. “It’s for the birds.” She grunts then straightens. “Police still aren’t here?”

I shake my head. A curl of hair brushes my cheek as she loops a sturdy arm around my shoulder.

“Keeping things interesting in old Elmhurst, huh?”

“Where’s Baxter?”

“Nanny. Told you they’re helpful.” She drops her arm as she continues to catch her breath. “Do you really think someone broke in?”

“I hope not.” I think of my cello, my computer, any valuables I have scattered about.

“Maybe you just didn’t shut the door all the way?”

“Maybe.” I always shut the door.

After a few anxious minutes, police sirens bleep and stutter along our street. My fingers tighten on the stroller as I imagine neighbors straining on their front porches, whispering behind cupped hands about the paranoid blind lady. This is not a neighborhood where cops do regular drive-bys. The red and blue lights pierce the blurred veil of my vision, and I squint behind my sunglasses.

A car door opens and shuts and then a lone officer approaches. “Ma’am?”

“Hi, I’m the one who called,” Jess says. “This is Rebecca Gray. She lives here. She’s…”

“I’m blind,” I explain. “When I got back from my walk, my front door was open. And I’m positive I shut it before I left.”

“Officer Toby.” He thrusts a hand in my direction. “Do you have an alarm?”

“I do.” I consider the possibility that I could have forgotten to arm it, but it doesn’t add up. “I always set it before I leave.”

“And the alarm hasn’t gone off?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Have you gone into the home, ma’am?” His radio squawks with a string of garbled commands.

“No.”

“Good. I’m going to check the perimeter of the property and the interior. Please stay out here until I’ve completed the search.”

“Thanks, Officer.” Jess whistles when he walks away. “Who knew Elmhurst had such hot cops?”

I laugh and elbow her. Another cop name floats through my mind. To distract myself until Toby returns, I blurt: “I used to date a cop.”

“What? When?”

I shrug and shush Jackson as he fusses in his stroller. I reach around for his pacifier and pop it back into his mouth. “A lifetime ago. Before Chris.” Just saying my husband’s name sends a pang of fresh grief through my gut. “I met him when I still had my sight. I was twenty-five. He was a cop trying to make detective with CPD. Both of our careers were flourishing.”

“So what happened?”

“He got transferred to Florida,” I say. Though we both assumed we’d get married, have kids, and live in the city, when he got an offer to lead a narcotics unit, he took it.

“Ugh. Florida? No wonder you broke up.”

I playfully slap her arm.

“That wasn’t it, but I couldn’t leave the symphony. And he couldn’t miss out on such a great opportunity.” I shrug. “We were both realistic about long distance. Once he left, my sight got worse. I met Chris when he was volunteering at the Chicago Lighthouse.”

“What in the hell is that?”

“It’s a community center for the visually impaired.”

“Then Chris was a rebound.”

I roll my eyes. “Chris was not a rebound.”

“Chris was totally a rebound.”

“No, he was just there when I needed him.” I smile. “Chris was always there for me. He was dependable.”

“Like a minivan.”

“He was a bit like a minivan.” My heart lifts just joking about Chris. This is what I want to do more of, I remind myself. Talk about him as if he’s right here. Before I can say anything else, Jess leans in.

“Hottie approaching.”

“Ma’am, the perimeter and interior are secure. No sign of forced entry. Nothing suspicious in or around the property. I’m happy to do a walk-through with you to make sure nothing is out of place.”

“That’s not necessary.” I remove my ball cap and run a hand through my sweaty hair. “I’m sorry about this.”

“No problem. You ladies have a great day, okay?”

“Thanks so much, Officer.” Jess lightly touches my elbow. “Want me to come in with you?”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks for coming over.” I hug her, wave good-bye, and head