was working my last nerve. I was about tired of Miss Angel already.
“Officer.” Miss Mabel drew Doug’s eyes toward her. They instantly filled with sympathy. “I feel like you care. We’ve got to be careful for Butter’s sake because these gangboys are low-down as can be.”
“We have to have control of the situation,” Doug spoke gently to Miss Mabel and Kelly. “I don’t want anything to happen to Butter. Who would want that? No one. From my gut, I’m telling you this is the way to handle the situation.”
Quiet became the new person in the room. I looked up at Zeke, who tapped his watch with his pinky finger. Yeah, we had to get rolling—shooting, interviewing, all that for our ten o’clock package. I decided to muscle it.
“I’ve said that I will do all that I can to help. But all of us in this room know that we have to work together to get Butter back. I say we try Detective Eckart’s way because I can always turn my coverage up a notch but you can’t tone it down. Still, Butter is your little girl so it’s your call.”
Kelly looked at me, then Doug, and nodded. Reverend Walker got up and fanned himself with the open palms of his gnarled hands. “Well, I’m no longer needed. I’ll call you later, Miss Mabel.”
“Reverend, don’t leave.” Miss Mabel reached out to him.
He simply clutched her hands before walking out. The Reverend was mad. But what could we do? It wasn’t time for egos right now.
Kelly pulled out a bulky photo album and showed me pictures of Butter. There was the first-grade class photo—being tall she was standing in the second row. Kelly had a picture of Butter at age three on Santa’s lap at the Montgomery Ward store at Evergreen Plaza Shopping Center.
I went to the bedroom Butter and Trip shared. On Butter’s side were certificates taped to the wall: perfect attendance, spelling contest second place, and good conduct. Trip pulled out a VCR tape that the family had—Miss Mabel had won a video recorder in the church raffle but eventually sold it when they ran short of money one month.
The picture was fuzzy, the audio scratchy, but there was Butter reciting Dr. King’s “I Have a Dream” speech for Sunday school. She had on the same pink and white cotton dress, but it was new.
Then the tape blurred and there was Butter again, the dress more worn and slightly shorter, as she stood in the school auditorium for the spelling bee crying after missing the word
aquarium
.
Then the shot panned away to the crowd, the tape stopped, and there was Butter on the stage holding a certificate and wearing a big T-shirt she’d just won. It was black with white letters, BE #1. It fit Butter like a formal gown. She looked so cute, I thought. Look at that baby!
Then there was another bad spot in the tape, and then there was Butter, same pink dress with the sleeves removed and the hem let out, playing outside. She was dodging in and out of a spray of water from the corner fire hydrant. Butter couldn’t help but smile as Trip sprayed her flush in the face and she fell, bouncing off a wave of water on the street, full of laughter.
Zeke was shooting the family watching the home video, then he shot the home video as it played on the television. I talked to Kelly, Trip, and Miss Mabel. Angel agreed with Reverend Walker’s position and refused to be interviewed, which was more than fine with me. I didn’t want to deal with her ’tude right now.
Doug briefed the family again on how he wanted to handle Butter’s disappearance then asked me to walk with him to the door. We promised to share any information we got on the case. Then Doug handed me a card with his home phone number on the back. “Use it, Georgia, if you need to.”
I took the card and handed him mine, which also had my home phone number on the back, and said, “You do the same.”
After Doug left, I got on the case. I got busy writing my story. Zeke and I went back to the truck and set up a signal; we fed all the
“Officer.” Miss Mabel drew Doug’s eyes toward her. They instantly filled with sympathy. “I feel like you care. We’ve got to be careful for Butter’s sake because these gangboys are low-down as can be.”
“We have to have control of the situation,” Doug spoke gently to Miss Mabel and Kelly. “I don’t want anything to happen to Butter. Who would want that? No one. From my gut, I’m telling you this is the way to handle the situation.”
Quiet became the new person in the room. I looked up at Zeke, who tapped his watch with his pinky finger. Yeah, we had to get rolling—shooting, interviewing, all that for our ten o’clock package. I decided to muscle it.
“I’ve said that I will do all that I can to help. But all of us in this room know that we have to work together to get Butter back. I say we try Detective Eckart’s way because I can always turn my coverage up a notch but you can’t tone it down. Still, Butter is your little girl so it’s your call.”
Kelly looked at me, then Doug, and nodded. Reverend Walker got up and fanned himself with the open palms of his gnarled hands. “Well, I’m no longer needed. I’ll call you later, Miss Mabel.”
“Reverend, don’t leave.” Miss Mabel reached out to him.
He simply clutched her hands before walking out. The Reverend was mad. But what could we do? It wasn’t time for egos right now.
Kelly pulled out a bulky photo album and showed me pictures of Butter. There was the first-grade class photo—being tall she was standing in the second row. Kelly had a picture of Butter at age three on Santa’s lap at the Montgomery Ward store at Evergreen Plaza Shopping Center.
I went to the bedroom Butter and Trip shared. On Butter’s side were certificates taped to the wall: perfect attendance, spelling contest second place, and good conduct. Trip pulled out a VCR tape that the family had—Miss Mabel had won a video recorder in the church raffle but eventually sold it when they ran short of money one month.
The picture was fuzzy, the audio scratchy, but there was Butter reciting Dr. King’s “I Have a Dream” speech for Sunday school. She had on the same pink and white cotton dress, but it was new.
Then the tape blurred and there was Butter again, the dress more worn and slightly shorter, as she stood in the school auditorium for the spelling bee crying after missing the word
aquarium
.
Then the shot panned away to the crowd, the tape stopped, and there was Butter on the stage holding a certificate and wearing a big T-shirt she’d just won. It was black with white letters, BE #1. It fit Butter like a formal gown. She looked so cute, I thought. Look at that baby!
Then there was another bad spot in the tape, and then there was Butter, same pink dress with the sleeves removed and the hem let out, playing outside. She was dodging in and out of a spray of water from the corner fire hydrant. Butter couldn’t help but smile as Trip sprayed her flush in the face and she fell, bouncing off a wave of water on the street, full of laughter.
Zeke was shooting the family watching the home video, then he shot the home video as it played on the television. I talked to Kelly, Trip, and Miss Mabel. Angel agreed with Reverend Walker’s position and refused to be interviewed, which was more than fine with me. I didn’t want to deal with her ’tude right now.
Doug briefed the family again on how he wanted to handle Butter’s disappearance then asked me to walk with him to the door. We promised to share any information we got on the case. Then Doug handed me a card with his home phone number on the back. “Use it, Georgia, if you need to.”
I took the card and handed him mine, which also had my home phone number on the back, and said, “You do the same.”
After Doug left, I got on the case. I got busy writing my story. Zeke and I went back to the truck and set up a signal; we fed all the
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