Comfort Me

by Debbie Viguié

  “I hope so.”

  “How do you want to handle Rebecca?” Cindy asked, changing subjects.

  Jeremiah sighed. “That is an excellent question.”

  ~

  Mark walked in his front door. Buster was right there to greet him with a tail wag and a happy bark. He gave the dog a few pets before heading into the kitchen. Traci, unfortunately, looked less happy to see him than Buster had. He couldn’t blame her since it had been an upsetting day all around. Even still, she was a sight for sore eyes.

  He walked straight up to her, wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face against her neck. He shuddered slightly as he tried to push out of his mind the horrors of the day. A moment later he felt Traci’s arms come up around him, holding him. She slowly rubbed his back and began to make soothing noises.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered.

  He held her tighter, never wanting to let go. He didn’t know how long they stood there like that but when he finally released her and stepped back he could see that there were tears in her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, a wave of guilt washing over him.

  “For what?” she asked.

  “For everything. For my crazy job and the stress and horror I bring home with me. For the risks I take. For just, I don’t know-”

  She leaned forward and kissed him. When it was over she smiled sadly up at him. “You’re not the one who got hurt,” she said.

  “Yeah, but I have been in the past. And I’ve hurt others,” he said.

  She put her hand on his cheek and caressed it. “Mark, you’re tired.”

  He nodded. He was and it was making him think crazy things. He thought about Liam laying in that hospital bed. He replayed the images of Casey sitting on the ground holding the bloody bat that had killed his parents and Taylor breaking down and trying to surrender his badge and gun to Mark after nearly shooting Casey. It just felt suddenly like all too much.

  “What if I quit?” he blurted out.

  Traci’s eyes opened wide. “Excuse me?”

  “What if I quit my job, stopped being a cop?”

  She blinked rapidly, as though trying to process what he was saying. “And do what?”

  “I don’t know. I could become a lawyer.”

  “You hated school,” she pointed out.

  That was true. Plus as a lawyer he’d still have to deal with all the crap that he wanted away from so badly at that moment. “Okay, I could go into private security. I could be Joseph’s bodyguard or something.”

  A short, explosive laugh erupted from Traci.

  “What’s so funny about that?” he asked.

  “You think that would be safer? Have you met our friends?”

  He hung his head and let out a frustrated sigh. She was right about that. Their friends, Joseph included, managed to have an amazing amount of bad things happen to and around them.

  Traci put her hand under his chin and forced his head up. She looked him in the eyes. “Look, honey, if you want to quit and do something else, then okay, we can figure that out.”

  “I sense a ‘but’ coming,” he said.

  She nodded. “But, are you sure this isn’t just about Paul and Liam’s condition dredging all that up again?”

  “It was a pretty bad day,” he said, barely getting the words out.

  “I understand. And we can talk about it. And ultimately if you want to quit and do something else I’m for it, one hundred percent. I just don’t want you making a hasty decision you’re going to regret later,” she said.

  It was pretty much the same advice he’d given Taylor. It had been good advice for the other man and it was good advice for him as well.

  “Thank you.”

  Traci smiled at him sweetly. “That’s what I’m here for,” she said.

  In the other room the babies began to cry. “And you’re here to take care of them while I finish up dinner,” she said with a smirk.

  “Thanks,” he said sarcastically.

  ~

  After dinner Traci settled down with the twins in the living room. They were playing on the floor while she watched a movie. As much as Mark wanted to join them he knew he needed to deal with a few things. So instead he headed into his office.

  Reluctantly he unlocked the one drawer and pulled out his file on Paul, or, rather, Not Paul as he sometimes referred to him. In it he found the twelve pages written in code that he’d gotten from the attorney’s safe plus the one that had been in the letter the attorney had sent to Georgia, Paul’s ex-wife. Mark spread them out on his desk and stared at them.

  What secrets could they be holding? Was it just what he’d already managed to piece together on his own or was there more?

  In the folder there was also an envelope with a key that Paul’s lawyer had sent to Paul’s ex-wife when he died. He still had no idea what that key went to.

  “I can do this. I’m a detective after all,” he said out loud, trying to psyche himself up.

  He grabbed a pencil and blank piece of paper and tried to work out what the code might be. He started with the most frequent letter that he found and called it an “e” since “e” was the most frequently used letter in English. He worked through as far with that as he could, but it became clear very quickly that this was not a simple substitution cipher like they had in puzzle books.

  As he stared at the papers his frustration grew. He could read a crime scene with surprising ease and accuracy at this point. Codes, though, were not his thing. Leave it to Paul to make it difficult. It seemed there was nothing in the man’s life that hadn’t been.

  Mark sat there for a couple of more minutes and then got onto his computer and found a website about secret codes since the simple substitution was all that he was familiar with. His mind began to boggle as he scrolled through the information. Finally he turned away from his computer. The only clear thing that had emerged was that he needed help.

  He put the pages through his printer/copier and then put the originals back in his drawer, locking it again. Then he called Jeremiah.

  “Hello?” the rabbi answered, sounding tired.

  It had been a long day for everyone.

  “How are you at breaking codes?” Mark asked without preamble.

  “What kind of codes?”

  “That’s the problem, I’m not sure.”

  “Breaking them has never exactly been my area of expertise,” the other man admitted.

  “Oh,” Mark said, feeling discouragement settle upon him.

  “Hold on a second,” Jeremiah said suddenly.

  Mark waited. He could hear muffled voices but couldn’t make out what anyone was saying. Finally Jeremiah came back on.

  “We’ve got a couple of people here who’d like to take a crack at what you’ve got,” he said.

  “Oh? And where are you at?”

  “The hospital. Where are you at?”

  Mark flushed. Jeremiah was still watching over his partner, the one he hadn’t had the strength or will to go see before coming straight home. “On my way there,” he mumbled into the phone before hanging up.

  He grabbed the copies of the papers, told Traci where he was going, and headed for the hospital. He was half asleep as he drove, the car seeming to almost drive itself. It felt like he spent an inordinate amount of time there anymore.

  “Oh look, the gang’s all here,” he said when he walked into Liam’s room to find Rebecca, Jeremiah, and Cindy there.

  “Hey, Mark,” Cindy said.

  He nodded in greeting.

  There was one chair left and he sat down in it before turning to look at Liam. His partner’s eyes were closed.

  “Nurse gave him something to knock him out a few hours ago,” Jeremiah said. “He’s been fighting it, drifting in and out the last hour.”

  “Why fight it? Sleep has to be the best thing for him at this point,” Mark said. “Besides, there’s nothing he can do to help.”


  “That’s not entirely true,” Jeremiah spoke up.

  “He remembered something about the guy who attacked him?” Mark asked hopefully.

  “No, but he did make a pertinent observation,” Cindy said uncomfortably.

  Mark looked around at all of them. There was something they weren’t telling him.

  “Come on, guys, what was it? Fill me in.”

  Liam’s eyes flew open. “No cops!” he snarled in a voice that was barely recognizable.

  14

  Mark nearly jumped out of his skin when Liam spoke. Jeremiah had to admit to being suddenly on edge himself.

  “What are you talking about?” Mark said. “I’m a cop. You’re a cop.”

  “Don’t tell him. He’s a cop,” Liam said.

  “What the hell has gotten into you?” Mark exploded.

  Liam just closed his eyes and said nothing.

  Mark rounded on Rebecca. “Tell me what’s going on right now!”

  Jeremiah stood up. “Mark, I’m not sure what’s going on, but I think we’ll deal with it. Maybe it’s best if we all got some rest tonight. I think we’re all on edge.”

  Mark glared at him but he could tell that his words were making sense to the detective.

  “Fine,” he finally snapped. He turned to go, a sheath of papers still tucked under his arm.

  “Mark, you had something you wanted decoded?” Jeremiah gently reminded him.

  Mark turned back. “I thought you said that wasn’t your area?”

  “It isn’t, but Liam and Rebecca apparently have both had some experience with it.”

  Mark’s face hardened even more.

  “I’d like to try and help. It will give me...us...something to do while we’re stuck here,” Rebecca said.

  Mark turned and for a moment Jeremiah was afraid he was going to do or say something incredibly rash. Instead he took a deep breath. He handed her the papers.

  “No one but the four of you sees these,” he said.

  “Understood.”

  “I will be back in the morning to discuss all of this,” he said, indicating her and Liam with a sweeping arm gesture.

  She nodded but didn’t say anything.

  Mark glanced at Jeremiah. “I’m going home to get some rest. I suggest you do the same.”

  “Good night,” Cindy said.

  Mark grunted and left the room.

  “I think we should go as well,” Jeremiah said. He wasn’t getting anything more out of either of them that night. At this point everyone was too keyed up. Emotions were running high and no one was thinking straight. Better to start again when more rational thought might prevail.

  He and Cindy left the hospital room.

  “Is this goodnight?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Nah, I’ll come over to your house and we can talk some more,” he said.

  “Good.”

  ~

  “Well, that was...something,” Cindy said as they walked into her house.

  Jeremiah closed and locked the door behind him then followed her into the living room.

  Cindy sat down on the couch wearily and looked up at Jeremiah. He looked tired, too. It was something he rarely showed. After a few seconds he sat down on the couch beside her.

  They sat in companionable silence for a couple of minutes. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was eight. She should send him on his way. The morning was going to come soon and she was tired enough to sleep right through it.

  She glanced around the room.

  “You know, I’ve never really felt like this was my house,” she said.

  “Oh, why?”

  “I’m not sure. I mean, it’s been a while since I inherited it, but it just still doesn’t feel like I own it.”

  “Paint one of the walls and see if that changes,” he said with a wry smile.

  She chuckled. “But how will I get my security deposit back?”

  He laughed, too. After a few seconds it died down. “You know what you could do?”

  “What?”

  “Change one of the pictures on the walls.”

  She looked around and flushed slightly. He was right. The art prints were the ones she’d inherited along with the house. They were nice, neutral landscapes and for some reason she’d left them up.

  The bedroom that Geanie had stayed in when they were roommates was a blank canvas because they had either moved or gotten rid of the few things that had been there. The rest of the house, though, was virtually untouched. Even the couch they were sitting on had come with the house.

  A wave of sorrow suddenly washed over her and a tear rolled down her cheek.

  “What’s wrong?” Jeremiah asked.

  “It’s silly really. I spent the day packing up Rose’s things. It just struck me that it’s probably time to pack up Marge’s things.”

  “The lady who left you the house?” Jeremiah asked.

  “Yeah,” Cindy said, dashing away the tear. “I wonder if she would have done that if she’d known I was going to stop being the church secretary?”

  Jeremiah put a hand on her shoulder. “She left you this house not because you were the church secretary but because she cared for you. From what I understand you were the one who visited her most faithfully the last year she was alive.”

  “She was a nice lady. She had some great stories and no one to share them with,” Cindy said.

  “She got to share them with you and I’m sure that meant the world to her,” he said gently.

  Cindy nodded. It really had been a long day.

  “You know what, don’t worry about it. We can tackle it together after I move in,” he said.

  “Move in?” she asked, startled.

  He raised an eyebrow. “In twenty months? After the wedding I kind of figured we’d live in the same place. It’s customary here in America, I understand.”

  She just kept staring at him, at a loss for words.

  He shifted uncomfortably. “My house is much smaller and owned by a synagogue member, not me. Therefore, I assumed I’d be moving in here. I’m sorry, did I overstep?” he asked, looking suddenly worried.

  “No, it’s just...this is going to sound weird...I hadn’t really thought much past the wedding,” she said.

  “That’s okay,” he said with a sly grin. “I haven’t thought much past the honeymoon.”

  She grabbed a pillow off the couch and hit him with it. She tried to hit him a second time but he easily caught it and then pulled her into his arms.

  He kissed her and everything else seemed to fall away. When the kiss ended she put her head on his chest and enjoyed the feeling of him just holding her.

  “Of course you’ll be moving in here after the wedding,” she said. “You can have the guest room.”

  “Don’t make me tickle you,” he threatened.

  She giggled, feeling a happy warmth stealing over her.

  “I guess there’s a lot of things that you and I haven’t had a chance to discuss that most couples have by this point,” he said after a minute.

  “You’re probably right,” she said.

  He kissed the top of her head.

  “How many children do you want?” she asked.

  His arms tightened around her. “I don’t know,” he said, sounding a little breathless. “How many do you want?”

  “One or two. It would be nice to have a boy and a girl. Although having just one could be nice, too.” She twisted her head so she could look up into his face. “Why don’t you know how many you want?”

  He looked down at her. “To be honest, I never thought I was going to be able to have children.”

  “Able? Why, is there something...wrong?” she asked.

  “Sorry, no, not that I’m aware of. I just never thought I would be married and so I never thought children were in my future.”

  “Well, you are going to be married, so start thinking about it,” she said.

>   “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Since you mentioned the honeymoon, where do you think we should go?” she asked.

  “Somewhere that we can be totally alone,” he said.

  “Really? And why is that?” she asked, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice.

  “Because I have serious, serious plans for us.”

  “Oh really, like what?” she teased.

  “I plan on taking off my clothes,” he said.

  “Yeah?” she asked, unable to stop the grin that was spreading across her face.

  “Yes,” he said, but his face was growing more serious, the lighthearted tone he’d been speaking in was changing.

  “And?” she asked.

  “And I’m going to tell you exactly how I got each one of my scars.”

  She sat up. That had not been what she was expecting. “You are?” she asked in surprise.

  He nodded solemnly. “You’ve earned hearing those stories.”

  “Thank you, I’m honored, and I look forward to hearing the stories.”

  “But, what?” he asked.

  She blushed. “I just had something else in mind when you said you were going to take your clothes off.”

  “Yeah, like what?” he asked with a straight face.

  Staring at him she felt tongue-tied and far too shy to voice the thoughts in her mind. Suddenly she saw a wicked little gleam in Jeremiah’s eyes. He pulled her close again and nuzzled her throat.

  He began to whisper against her skin. “Maybe you thought that I was going to say that then I’d unzip your dress and let it fall to the floor. I’d run my hands across your bare skin until you began to tremble. Then I’d pick you up and carry you to the bed. Is that what you were thinking about?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she managed to say.

  She twisted her hands in his hair and he kissed her throat and jaw before kissing her lips again. Sudden heat flashed through her. His lips kept roaming, moving on to her cheeks.

  “Why can’t we do that now?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Because we’re not married,” he said as he kept kissing her, trailing kisses down to the other side of her neck.