Chapter 5 — Kim

Dan Slater was on the streets protecting the citizens of Milford, just as the captain had instructed. And where better for one of Milford’s finest to be highly visible than in a low-income housing project? The fact that Kim Ammar lived in this particular Section-8 housing complex could be strictly coincidental.

He hadn’t come here looking for praise or appreciation from the woman he helped save. He truly was concerned about Kim and wanted to make sure she was doing okay. He considered reaching out to her previously but was afraid that he would get in the way of the high-priced psychiatric help. However, the fact that she had moved from a $450,000 house in a posh development to a government-subsidized apartment was an indication that things weren’t going so well. Maybe she needed his help after all.

He sat in his car, thinking, watching people walk by, and deciding if he really wanted to get involved. On the one hand, it wasn’t just Kim he was worried about; he wanted to make sure her daughter Janice was okay too. On the other hand, just because they were living in Section-8 housing didn’t mean they would have a bad life; there were plenty of good people who had come out of bad neighborhoods.

Then Dan realized that he also had to factor in Captain Barr’s reaction. Contacting Kim Ammar would really piss him off. With that realization, Dan opened the car door and began the walk to the Ammar apartment. It was about four in the afternoon, so he figured that both Kim and Janice would be home.

Kim was very cautious when she came to the door. Dan had to hold his badge and driver’s license up to the peephole before she would open it, and even then, she left the chain on.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” she said as she leaned around the door. “I respectfully decline to answer any of your questions unless you tell me the basis of your suspicion that I may have committed a crime.”

Dan was a little surprised, both by her defensiveness and her knowledge of the law. It was clear that someone had coached her. “Mrs. Ammar. I am the officer who found you right after you escaped from the kidnapper. It was my coat that was draped over you while we waited for the ambulance.”

“What, you came to reclaim your goddamn coat?” she said in amazement. “What a tight-ass! I don’t know where the fucking thing is. Go check with the hospital.” Kim started to close the door.

“No, Mrs. Ammar,” Dan said, putting his hand gently on the door. “That’s not it. I know you’ve been through a lot, and I want to see if there is anything I can do to help. I was in Vietnam, so I know what combat can do to a person. And what you went through was worse than combat. I am not asking anything from you and I’m not trying to stick my nose into your business. I just want you to know that no matter what else is going on in your life, I am willing to help you.”

Kim paused a moment. She had never had much luck when dealing with government representatives, but she had heard how a Milford policeman went out on a limb to rescue her and figured she should at least talk to him. She unchained the door and let Dan into her living room.

The ratty couch and overstuffed chair were a far cry from the expensive leather furniture Dan had seen at her house. The room smelled like cigarettes and pine forest and was extremely tidy. In fact, Dan thought he had never seen a room so tidy. He was sure he could walk around the room doing a “white glove” inspection and not find a single speck of dust or dirt.

She had on a long silk dressing gown. The green material accented her green eyes. As she moved it flowed across her body, alternating between concealing and revealing the curves beneath. If he were a younger man …

Kim motioned for him to sit on the couch, then sat in the chair opposite and adjusted her gown. “Sit down, Detective Slater. I’m sorry if I’m not dressed for the occasion. The next time you’ll have to give me more notice. Maybe I’ll bake you a cake or something.” She nervously crossed her arms over her breasts Dan realized that she was probably used to men staring at her like a piece of meat. She was a stripper before her marriage, and that sort of attention came with the job. But as attractive as she was, he was too old and his plumbing too dysfunctional for him to be affected by a good-looking woman. He would notice her, but he wouldn’t be easily distracted by her.

Kim self-consciously repositioned herself in the chair, making sure her legs were completely covered by the gown, and lit a cigarette. “This can’t take too long. I’m getting ready for work.”

Dan suspected that Mr. Ammar was no longer in the picture and wondered where Janice was. He wanted to find out without being too direct. “You work at night? That must be difficult for you with an eleven-year-old daughter.”

Kim’s eyes flared with anger. “I work at night so my daughter can have clothes to wear, and books for school and a roof over her head. I work at night so she can go to college when she finishes high school. I work at night so she will never have to. I will do anything if it helps my baby, even let drunken slobs paw at me while they shove dollar bills down my panties. I do it all for Janice, so don’t you dare get all self-righteous on me, you fucking asshole.”

Well, that didn’t go so well. But Dan knew this wasn’t going to be easy. He didn’t have much training in psychology, but he did have his own experiences to draw on. He knew that talking to other vets had helped him more than talking to shrinks ever did. When you’ve walked through hell, you needed to talk to someone who’s been there too.

“I’m not here to judge you, Kim. We all do what we have to do; I truly understand that. There have been times when I’ve done what I had to do, things I have never shared with anyone, things that most people wouldn’t understand. I just meant that maybe it was difficult to find someone to watch her while you’re working.”

Kim’s demeanor became slightly less hostile. “Our next-door neighbor is an old lady who lives alone. She’s nice. I slip her a few bucks every week and she feeds Janice dinner and lets her spend the night. I spend time with Janice on holidays and days off.”

Dan nodded. He ran his fingers over the coarse material of the couch. It was time to find out about the husband. “What happened to Frank?” he asked.

Kim’s face reddened. “That fucking son of a bitch? He cleaned out our bank accounts and disappeared a month after my, uh, accident.” She reached over to the ashtray and stubbed out the cigarette she was smoking, then thought better of it and lit another one. “Of course, he took a second mortgage out on the house before he left, so I wouldn’t get any money from selling it. I’m lucky I was able to keep some of my clothes.”

Dan leaned forward. “Do you know where he went? Do you want me to track him down for you?”

Tears began to leak out of Kim’s eyes, ruining her mascara. “No, it’s no use. He flew to Paris, and then the fucker just dropped out of sight.” She waved her cigarette in the air. “I’ve got a letter around here somewhere from the French consulate. They said that Frank Amman died two years before I married him. I don’t even know who the fuck I was sharing my bed with.”

Dan watched Kim nervously flick the nails on her left thumb and ring finger against each other. He figured that he probably should drop the subject for now. He would do some research on the husband when he got back to the station. Maybe Samantha had only missed by a little in her hunt for terrorists.

“Kim, I’d like to take you and Janice out to dinner this weekend. We can go wherever you like, my treat.”

A cynical smile twisted Kim’s face. She took a big drag from her cigarette, the ash falling unnoticed into her lap. “Oh. Is that what this is about, Dan?” she said, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “Fuck, I almost took you seriously. You don’t need to buy us dinner, sweetie. There’s no point bringing the kid into it. I dance at Sweet Cheeks every weeknight. They have a back room for private dances. Just ask for me by name.”

Dan’s face reddened with embarrassment that he had been so badly misunderstood. “No, Kim. That’s not what I meant at all. I, uh, I have a daughter your age. I told you, I don’t want anything from you. Nothing at all. I just came to feel personally involved back when I tried to help during your, uh, when you had your accident. I only want to, you know, help out and make sure you’re alright.”

Kim stood up and straightened her dressing gown. A strange look came over her face when she noticed the cigarette ash fall from her lap. She watched it as it slowly tumbled through the air. It taunted her as it fell, laughing at her inability to control even the simplest aspects of her life. Gravity joined in the conspiracy, allowing the ash to hang in the air for several minutes of total humiliation before finally crashing into the carpet.

The theme song from the children’s TV show, Barney, began to play in her head. She didn’t much care for the song before she was kidnapped, but now it made her feel physically ill.

Kim raced out of the room and returned with a small, hand-held, cordless vacuum. She dropped to her knees, all concerns of keeping her gown demurely closed a thing of the past. While vacuuming she followed her therapist’s suggestion and tried to hum the song, ‘The Girl from Ipanema.’ If she could just get that melody right it would banish Barney from her consciousness, at least for a while.

This time she was able to switch songs quickly. Very quickly. Then it turned out she had switched too quickly. Kim could still remember why she was humming and made the mistake of congratulating herself for eliminating Barney so soon after he arrived. If you speak the Devil’s name he will appear, so the purple dinosaur danced back into her consciousness and resumed pledging his love for her.

Dan watched Kim repeatedly vacuum the spot where the ash fell until he thought she would suck the threads right out of the carpet. Eventually, she was satisfied and set the vacuum on the coffee table. Dan averted his eyes when she stood up; the gown had fallen completely open revealing that she wore nothing underneath it. “If you don’t stay on top of the dirt, it will take over your house,” she said as she rearranged her gown without a hint of embarrassment, as if the recent events had been completely normal.

Dan smiled sympathetically. “I really would like to help out some way if I can, Kim,” he said, choosing to ignore Kim’s unusual behavior. “Lunch, dinner, talking on the phone, with or without Janice, whatever you think is best. Maybe you just want to listen to my story, so you’ll know how I learned to grapple with my ghosts.”

She stared at him for a long time. “Okay, I’ll think about it,” she finally said. “But if it turns out that you are just trying to play me then I swear I’ll cut your balls off in your sleep. Are we clear?”

Dan stood and walked towards the door. “We’re clear, Kim. I’m not hustling you.