Hours later, Douglas knocked on his daughter’s door, waking her.
“Melody?”
“Yes, Daddy?” Melody called out into the darkness.
Douglas opened the door and turned on the light. “Honey, you have to get dressed. Just throw something on. I need you downstairs in five minutes.”
Melody sat straight up. “Daddy, what is it?”
“The police department just called,” he answered. “They want you down at the station for questioning. Please hurry.”
Demonstrating instant obedience, Melody dressed quickly but took only an extra moment to brush her hair. She then rushed down the stairs to meet her anxious parents by the front door.
“What is it? What’s this all about?” Melody asked in bewilderment.
“We don’t know,” her father said. “But we got to get going.”
It was not until she sat in the back seat that Melody began to wonder what the police could possibly want with her. It had to be a mistake, but as far as she knew, she was the only Melody in town. As the family Aspen headed down the icy road, sleepiness gave way to her racing mind and Melody wondered if this had anything to do with Becky. Maybe she was in jail and had called for her because her own phone was dead. She could not think of anything else. Melody looked out the window just as her father pulled into the police station parking lot. She did not want to go inside, but Melody stepped out of the car and followed her parents through the station’s double glass doors.
The first thing Melody noticed was how bright the inside of the station was. The walls were eggshell white, and many rows of long florescent light bulbs glared down at her from the white tiled ceiling. The floor was highly waxed tile that reflected the lights from the ceiling. The cold and sterile surroundings made Melody feel vulnerable. She stood beside her mother as her father spoke with a uniformed policeman sitting behind the counter. The officer nodded his head and picked up the phone. After speaking for a few moments, the policeman stood up and gave Douglas instructions.
“Melody,” her father said as he returned to his family. “Follow the police officer.”
“Aren’t you coming with me?” Melody asked with fear.
“We will follow you,” her father answered. “But you will be without us while you are questioned. Please be a good girl and cooperate. Then we can all go home.”
Melody walked to the end of the counter towards the waiting sergeant. He led Melody down a busy hallway filled with other uniformed cops and plain clothes officers. The police sergeant stopped abruptly at a door with a fogged glass window reading ‘INTERROGATION ROOM 1’. He opened the door and motioned Melody inside. Melody looked back at her parents who were just behind her. Barbara looked as if she was ready to die on the spot while Douglas was trying his best to put up a brave front. Melody stepped into the room and saw a table with a single wooden chair. There were no windows, but there was a large mirror on the wall to her left. On the table was an unopened can of apple juice and a glass. “Just have a seat young lady. They will be with you shortly,” the police sergeant said.
As Melody walked around the table towards the chair, the policeman closed the door and departed. She sat down and looked about the bare room. Melody had seen enough gangster movies to know that people would soon be watching her through the two-way mirror, if they weren’t already. She wondered if her parents would be watching, or if they were already trying to hire a lawyer. After five minutes, Melody began to fidget a little. She was sure she must have looked as uncomfortable as she felt. Finally, the door opened, and two men entered. One was bald with a small red mustache. He wore a white shirt and dark trousers. A badge was attached to his belt near the buckle. The second man looked much younger. He had dark wavy hair and was clean shaven. His attire was similar, and he too had a badge. He had carried a folding chair into the room with him and placed it down opposite of Melody. He then sat down and prepared a small notebook and a pen. The bald man remained on his feet.
“Melody Mivshek?” the bald man asked.
Melody nodded her head.
“I’m Detective Harris and this is Detective Daniels,” he said. Daniels nodded but remained silent. “You are not in any trouble; we just need to ask you some questions for an investigation that we are conducting. Will you cooperate with us?”
Again, Melody nodded.
“Good. Now Melody, do you know a Becky Valentine?”
Melody’s eyes grew large as her fear became reality. She knew she would have to be very careful and not let it slip that they were lovers, especially if her parents were watching. Melody guessed correctly that these men were professionals and knew every trick to turn her own words against her. The thought of a polygraph suddenly frightened her. Melody, who was very observant herself, noticed that both detectives recognized her sudden change in facial expression.
“I knew she was in trouble. Where is she?” Melody asked.
“Miss, that is what we are trying to find out. Becky is missing and we are hoping you can help us find her. Now, you do know her?” Harris asked.
“We’ve been best friends since eighth grade,” Melody answered.
“So, you know her well?”
“Very well.”
“When did you see her last?” Harris asked. Melody quickly caught on that Harris was asking all the questions while Daniels watched and took notes.
“Friday night. We both worked until midnight. We work at McDonald’s. At least she used to, she was fired Saturday morning.”
“Was she there Saturday morning?”
Melody shook her head. “She did not show up for work and the manager told me to tell her she was fired the next time I saw her, but I haven’t.”
“Isn’t that an unusual way to fire someone?”
“Yes, but no one knows where she is and her phone is disconnected,” Melody explained.
“So, you last saw her at McDonald’s?” Harris asked.
“No, I gave her a ride home,” Melody further explained. “I last saw her when I dropped her off at her house.”
Daniels was writing quickly now.
“What time did you get home after work?” Harris asked.
“I got home around one,” Melody admitted.
“So, you left work at midnight, and it took you an hour to drop off Becky and go home?” Harris asked.
“No sir. After work, we talked in my father’s car for about thirty minutes.”
“What did you talk about?” Harris asked.
Melody froze. She darted her eyes away from Harris to Detective Daniels who was still writing and watching her. Melody turned her head and looked at the mirror. She could feel the unseen eyes secretly observing her. She did not like being put on display like a zoo animal. Her lip began to tremble and her eyes watered, even after she thought she had no tears left. She wanted to get out of that room. She did not want to talk about Becky. She just wanted to go home.
“Young lady?” Harris pursued. “If you want to help Becky, you need to tell us about your conversation Friday night.”
Melody did not look at him. She continued to look at the mirror while shaking her head.
“Melody,” Harris continued. “We have the authority to keep you here overnight if we have to. You said you would cooperate. You don’t want to spend the night in a jail cell, do you?”
Melody looked back at him and shook her head. “No, Sir.”
“Then what did you and Becky talk about?”
Melody remained silent but was suddenly tempted by the can of apple juice. Her heartbeat quickened and she was scared. Melody did not think these two detectives could possibly know the truth about her and Becky but was not completely convinced. As she sat motionless, Melody felt both their eyes burning into her. She reminded herself to be careful.
“Melody?” Harris asked sternly.
“May I have this?” Melody asked as she pointed to the apple juice.
“Yes, of course. Help yourself.” Harris answered with a hint of impatience.
Melody drank straight from the can to relieve her dry throat, unaware of how dehydrated she actually was. Unknown to her, Detective Daniels was scribbling in his notebook that Melody was using stalling tactics. This assumption would later be disregarded after conferring with his partner. Realizing her silence was causing suspicion, Melody spoke.
“I don’t know how much I can help,” Melody began. “Becky has been acting very strange ever since winter vacation ended. When we talked in the car I knew she was lying to me, but I don’t know how much of it was the truth. She has changed so much these last three weeks, and I’m so tired from constant worry.”
Detective Harris relaxed his face and spoke softer, more politely. “Melody, I can see that Becky means a great deal to you. Don’t worry about what she lied about or what was the truth, that’s for us to figure out. We want to help her, and to do that you must help us. Please, start from three weeks ago. Tell us how she was acting and how she changed.”
Melody explained Becky’s strange behavior, and everything else she could remember, to the detectives. She told them how Becky had avoided her, would not talk to her, had missing teeth, and described how angry she became every time she tried to touch or comfort her. Melody then went on to tell the detectives that Becky had mysteriously missed school and work for an entire week. She continued with a detailed account of Friday night, starting with how she had used Becky’s purse to finally confront her. She told them about the fight which caused Becky’s mother to leave in the middle of the night, and that Becky was pregnant. Melody further explained that she offered to help Becky and they were supposed to spend the weekend together. Melody concluded by stating she had planned on making an appointment with Pastor Featherstone so Becky could see him after church service.
“She did not tell you who the father is?” Harris asked.
“She refused to tell me.”
“You said she told you her mother left before Christmas and had not seen her since?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Did you believe that?”
“Yes. Becky doesn’t have a happy home life. Her mother never wanted her and said awful things to her. She was not involved in Becky’s life at all. I’ve only met her one time, years ago, when she dropped Becky off at my house for a sleepover. I never saw her again. Becky told me that her mother only married Walt so they could get out of the homeless shelter when they lived in Detroit.”
“What about Walt?” Harris asked. “What is he like?”
“I never met him. I have no idea what he looks like. Sometimes he would answer the phone when I called for Becky, but that’s it.”
“You have been friends with Becky Valentine since middle school and you never once saw her stepfather?” Harris asked unbelievably.
“I’ve never even been inside Becky’s house,” Melody explained. “I’ve never seen her room and I never saw her stepfather. The closest I ever came was her front door. Whenever I picked her up, she was always waiting for me on the curb.”
“Every time?” Harris asked.
“Yes, every time,” Melody repeated. “Whenever I picked her up though, someone was always peeking through the curtains, watching us.”
“OK, Melody,” Harris said while rubbing his forehead. “Tell us what happened after you two were done talking in the parking lot Friday night.”
“After I convinced her to spend the weekend with me, we left,” Melody answered. “I dropped her off at her house and I said goodnight. She got out of the car and-” Melody froze as a sudden revelation took her by surprise. She raised both of her hands to her mouth and gasped from the shock.
“What happened?” Harris asked as his face grew stern again.
“I said goodnight. She always used to say goodnight too, but on Friday she said, ‘Goodbye Melody’. I was so upset; I didn’t even think about it until now.”
Melody’s reddened eyes produced a flood of new tears, but she didn’t try to hide her face. Melody didn’t care what the detectives thought anymore, and it no longer mattered who was watching from behind the mirror. Becky had said goodbye and left her. Melody let out a long pathetic moan at the thought of never seeing Becky again. The detective stopped his questioning as both men observed her. Detective Harris had to continue the interrogation, but patiently waited. Melody knew she was oversensitive when it came to Becky, and now her display of grief gave away just how much she loved her. She was sure the detectives would now begin asking how close they really were.
“Melody you have been a big help, but there are just a few more points we have to cover. Can we go on?” Harris asked.
Melody nodded.
“You dropped Becky off at her house and you went directly home?”
“Yes. I got home around one and my father was in the kitchen. He asked why I was late, and I lied to him. I told him I had to work late. I was so upset about Becky being pregnant… I went to bed and cried myself to sleep.”
Daniels flipped a page and continued writing.
“Melody we need to know what happened on Saturday.”
“Nothing happened,” Melody answered.
“Retrace your steps and tell us everything you did from the time you left your house until you clocked in for work.” Harris encouraged her.
“I got in the car and drove to Becky’s house. I had to pick her up by 9:45 so we could clock in by ten. I expected her to be down by the curb, but she wasn’t there. I figured she was inside because it was so cold yesterday morning. I parked in front of her house and honked the horn. I waited a few minutes, then got out. I walked up to her door to knock, but there was a note. So, I went back to the car and drove to work.”
“What did the note say? Where was it?” Harris asked.
“The note was taped to the front door. It was in her writing, I could tell. It said she had already gotten a ride and that she would see me at work.”
“Did you consider that unusual?”
“Before Christmas I would have,” Melody explained. “But she had gotten rides from so many people these last few weeks, that I didn’t think twice about it.”
“You didn’t knock or ring the bell?”
“I didn’t see a need to.”
“Then what happened?”
“I drove to work and clocked in. I looked for her, but she wasn’t there. I was angry at her for lying to me. When I went to the office to double check the schedule, Henry told me to tell Becky she was fired.”
“And then what?”
“I worked my shift and went home. I called Becky’s house and heard the disconnection message.”
“You didn’t go back to Becky’s house?”
“I thought about it but decided not to. I thought it would be better if I stayed home in case she called me.”
“Did she call?” Harris asked.
“No Sir, she never called. Except for church, I stayed home, hoping she would call today, but she didn’t. I finally went to bed and fell asleep. Then Daddy woke me up and brought us here.”
Harris looked at his partner who was still writing. Melody wondered if he was going to use every page he had. When he finished writing, Harris asked him, “You got anything for her?”
Detective Daniels looked at Melody and spoke for the first time. “When you dropped Becky off at her house Friday night, did you notice any lights on? Or lights in the windows?”
Melody thought for a moment and then answered. “No, Sir. The house was dark. I don’t remember any lights in the windows. I don’t even remember the porch light being on. I can’t say for sure though, I really wasn’t paying attention to the house.”
Daniels closed his notebook and stood up. The men nodded to each other and walked to the door. “Melody we appreciate your cooperation. Just stay seated for a moment and someone will come get you. You’ll be home soon.” They exited together and closed the door behind them. Melody let out a sigh of relief and finished the can of juice. Within ten minutes, a different policeman opened the door and kindly informed Melody that her parents were waiting in the lobby. Melody got up and followed the policeman out. When she got to the lobby, Melody ran to her father and wrapped her arms around him.
“Oh Daddy, take me home. Just take me home,” she pleaded.
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