by S. E. Meyer
Margaret’s left eye twitched. “Steven!” she yelled into the living room. “Can you please show our guest to her room?”
Finished with the light switch, Delores turned around. She greeted Margaret with a sparkle in her eyes and a broad smile stretched between her pink cheeks. “Oh, hello deary.”
“Hello Aunt Delores,” Margaret managed with a polite smile. “This is my partner, Atticus.” Margaret gestured with her hand. “Atticus, this is Steven's Aunt, Delores. She’s staying with us for a little while.”
Delores took a step towards Atticus and grasped his outstretched hand. She shook his hand up and down in jerks as she counted. “Two, six, ten, fourteen, twenty-two,” she whispered with each motion and then dropped her hand to her side.
“Pleased to meet you Delores,” Atticus said, ignoring the unusual handshake.
“Oh, the pleasure is all mine, I'm sure,” Delores replied, taking in a sip of the tall drink of water before her.
“Steven will show you to your room, Delores. Get settled, dinner will be ready shortly.”
Steven was only gone a few minutes when Anna came running back into the room followed by Sara. Anna stopped short again making Sara introduce her nose to the back of Anna's head. Sara cried.
“See. What did I tell you about running in the house?” Margaret yelled then turned to check on Sara. “Let me look at you,” Margaret soothed. “I'm sure you're fine.”
The blood drained from Margaret's face. “Oh, my!” she said. “Steven!” she yelled over her shoulder then turned back to Sara. Margaret snatched a napkin from the table and pressed it to Sara's bleeding nose.
“Steven!” Margaret hollered. “Something's wrong!”
“What is it?” Steven asked, trotting back into the dining room.
“What's wrong with Sara, mom?” Anna asked as Margaret squatted down to have a closer look at her youngest daughter. Margaret felt Sara's forehead just as Sara coughed a spray of blood onto Margaret's cheek. The warm splatter on Margaret's face made her swoon.
She grabbed Steven's arm for support and stood up.
“Oh my. Steven, we have to get her to the hospital,” Margaret said as she swept Sara up off the floor and carried her in her arms towards the door. “Atticus and I can take care of this, you head to work and I'll give you an update once we find something out.”
“No, I'll call in and go in late,” Steven replied, trying to hide the fear in his eyes. “I can't let you go alone.”
“What are we going to do about dinner? It's still in the oven.”
As Margaret finished speaking, Delores walked into the room. “You take care of the girl, deary. I'll take care of dinner and Anna,” she said before turning around and reaching for the light switch.
Margaret didn't wait for the ensuing outburst of Turrets and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. She headed straight for the door cradling Sara's limp body. “Thank you Delores,” Margaret muttered over her shoulder then she, Atticus and Steven all left the house through the front door.
Delores stood in the doorway with her finger still on the light switch. She seemed to observe a moment of silence before flipping the light on and off five times while counting out loud. “two, six, ten, fourteen, twenty-two.”
◆◆◆
“It's good news,,” the doctor explained as Margaret, Steven and Atticus all leaned forward in the adjacent waiting room chairs.
“How is this good news?” Margaret asked after several minutes.
“Sara had a bad Fleishman's attack, but we treat that every day. We'll increase her treatments and she'll be fine,” the doctor replied.
“Yes, but what about the other?” Steven asked.
“The cancer? Yes, well as I was explaining, that's good news too. It's not like years ago when cancer was a death sentence. It's treatable, your daughter will be just fine with the right medication and proper care at a clinic. We already gave her the first dose of treatment and we'll discharge her in the morning.” The doctor smiled. “So, it's good news,” he repeated, “really.”
“How are we supposed to afford something like that? The cost of treatments for cancer are astronomical.” Margaret said shaking her head.
“I have nothing to do with that.” the doctor replied. “You can take that up with the billing department,” he explained and then turned to leave.
“Wait,” Margaret called after him. “Can you at least give us an estimate of what the treatments will cost?”
“I would be guessing, but regardless of the amount, it's a small price to pay for a guarantee,” he added and then exited the room through a door at the other end of the waiting room.
◆◆◆
“You're taking the truck back,” Margaret ordered as they all loaded back up into her car.
“But Margaret, honey,” Steven whined.
“No buts,” Margaret replied.
“Anna could get a job soon,”
Margaret's face contorted into a twisted knot.
“What are you saying Steven? You would rather our twelve-year-old daughter go to work so you can keep your truck?”
“She'll have to go to work in another four years anyway and help pay her share of the bills, like everyone else,” Steven explained.
Margaret winced, the anger welling up inside her.
“And she'll wait the four years, like everyone else,” she demanded through flushed cheeks.
Steven saw by the look in his wife's eyes it was the end of the conversation. As they made it to their block and neared the driveway Steven glanced over into Bob's yard. There, in the middle of Bob's driveway, was a brand new pickup truck.
“That son of a bitch!” Steven yelled as he parked the car.
“The truck is going back,” Margaret reminded.
“But mine even has the new fancy rims,” Steven pleaded.
“The truck's going back,” Margaret repeated as they exited the car and made their way into the house.
“Fine, I'll do it tomorrow,” Steven replied, hanging his head like a scolded child as the family made their way into the kitchen.
“Mom, will this help Sara?” Anna asked after disappearing for a moment and then returning to the kitchen. Margaret looked down at her daughter's hands to see what she was holding. “It's almost a hundred dollars,” Anna said, holding up a pile of crumpled bills with tears in her eyes. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get Sara hurt mom, and it's expensive to see the doctor.”
“Oh sweetie, that's so nice of you to offer your life savings,” Margaret replied. “But you keep that. It wasn't your fault. Everything will be okay and we'll be able to help your sister. She'll be fine.”
“Okay,” Anna replied and then wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“Now, give me a hug, I'm off to work for a while with Atticus. Keep an eye on your sister and make sure your father eats something before he goes to work.”
“Okay mom,” Anna replied, hugging her mother.
Margaret and Atticus left the house, climbed into the car and made their way down the street without speaking for several minutes. Once the car had made it a few blocks from the house Margaret made eye contact with Atticus.
“We need to talk,” she whispered while raising her eyebrows.
Atticus recognized Margaret's tone and stopped the car. They both exited the vehicle, lifted their phones from their pockets, and then set them on the car seat. Margaret spoke once they were several hundred feet away from the car.
“Do you think Sara's condition has anything to do with Cornelius?” she asked.
Atticus sighed. “Margaret, I think anything is possible with Cornelius Cromwell. He could have had any of his cronies gain access to Sara at school or during regular treatments. In fact, I think it's likely if he's found out about our little group and what the twelve of us have been up to.” Atticus paused a moment and then looked deep into Margaret's eyes. “It's time we find out who among our group has betrayed us.”
Chapter IV
Anna didn't see the
car that pulled up next to her on the street as she stared at the pool of water between her shoes. She had been sitting on the curb for an hour, grateful for the otherwise unwelcome deluge for washing away her tears as she mourned her losses. It wasn't the suspension that had her so distraught. Thoughts of the photograph, her mother, and Billy consumed her mind.
Thoughts of Billy were always there, along with his spirit. Like a specter, he would appear in the fog of her bathroom mirror after a shower, or stare out from the mist on a damp morning. It was a comforting pain Anna would rather not lose. She cherished it. Kept it close. The pain kept her alert, and her heart well guarded, tucked into an impenetrable wrought-iron shell.
“Anna!” Charlie called again, pulling her from her trance. She looked toward Charlie's voice and noticed his car with the passenger door hanging open. “Get in here and out of the damn rain before you drown,” he urged.
Anna sloshed towards him and flopped inside, pulling the door closed.
Charlie looked into her eyes. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I can't believe they put you on a suspension.”
Anna could see the genuine concern in his eyes. She forced a smile and then wiped her nose on her sleeve.
“I'll give you a lift home,” Charlie said, handing Anna a tissue.
“Home?” Anna paused in thought for a moment. “No. Forget home Charlie.”
“You're soaked. You need some dry clothes.”
Anna wiped her nose again and then wrestled with her long coat, tugging at the sleeves. “That's the thing about wearing wool, Charlie. It can be one hundred percent saturated and still hold eighty percent of its heating ability.” She wriggled free of the garment dropping it on the seat behind her with a thud. “It also doesn't wick water, so I'm dry enough.” she explained, pulling her hair back into a ponytail and slipping a rubber band around it.
“Then where are we going?”
“Take me to the bar,” Anna decided, gesturing 'straight ahead' with her index finger.
***
“So what's going on Anna? What happened today?” Charlie asked, once the pair had each ordered a beer and swilled down their first drink.
Anna frowned, shaking her head.
“Charlie, we've known each other for almost two years right?”
Charlie nodded.
“We've worked every day together, side by side.”
“Yes,” Charlie replied, still nodding.
“I already know what you’ll say, but believe me, today was different.”
“So what happened?” Charlie asked again before coaxing another long drink from his bottle.
“This Lone Wolf guy, he told me that the computer drive in the dead reporter's leg was my mother's. And if I wanted to find out why she was murdered, I needed to take it. He also made it sound like he knew her, and the other men were after it too,” Anna explained. Charlie sat quietly, waiting for her to continue. He was a good listener, one thing Anna liked best about her partner.
“I realize sometimes I tried to connect dots that weren't there with my mother's death, but damn it, Charlie. These dots were being connected for me.”
“So you have the computer drive? Let‘s see what's on it.”
“No, I don't have it. The Jim's at the office today, they wanted it too, but it must have fallen out of my pocket or something. Shit, the old guy,” Anna recalled. Her face lit up. “Wait, there was an elderly man that bumped into me at the scene.” Anna reflected in thought while taking a drink. “Maybe he took it Charlie. Maybe that was the Lone Wolf himself!”
“I doubt it. Probably someone working for him. He wouldn't expose himself like that, with street cameras, facial recognition, and audio surveillance.” Charlie took a long breath. “Do you want to know what I think Anna?”
“Probably not.”
“I think one of the toughest criminals out there manipulated you. He's been impossible to track down. He knew you were there, how to get to you, and how to get what he wanted.”
Anna shook her head back and forth in disagreement, but Charlie continued.
“I think the Lone Wolf wanted that drive, and he did what he had to do to get it, without having to do it himself. You see? He used you Anna, and your past, for his own purposes.”
“I'm not so sure Charlie. There was something about him that seemed, familiar.”
“He tricked you, that's all it was. Some people are master manipulators Anna, they become so practiced at it they could rival any doctor with a psychology degree. And if he wanted you to have the drive why don't you have it right now?”
Anna shrugged. “How did he know about my mother then?”
“Anna, anyone could find out about your mom. It was a fairly public investigation.”
“I guess, it seemed so real.”
“He talked you into compromising your own crime scene. Now that's not the Anna I know. There are two things I can count on with Anna Wool. You aren't afraid to speak your mind, and you don't break the rules.”
“I guess you're right Charlie.” Anna gazed into his hazel eyes, taking comfort in the familiar kindness and concern she found there. “I guess I need to let it go.” Anna finished her beer in several long swallows and then set the empty bottle down in front of her. “All of it Charlie. I need to let all of it go. Mom, Billy, all of it.” The bartender nodded in their direction and Anna held up two fingers.
“It's for the best. And letting go doesn't mean forgetting them Anna. It means ending the witch hunt. And as far as Billy goes, it's none of my business, but sometimes a person needs a new nail to drive the old one out.”
Anna grimaced. “I don't need to drive him out Charlie. I could never do that. I've had a true love, anything less at this point would be a disappointment. I would be settling.”
Anna took the fresh twelve ounce beer in front of her and guzzled it down in as many seconds, slamming the empty bottle on the bar. She gestured to the bartender to bring two more as music played on the jukebox. “Whoa, slow down there hot stuff,” Charlie said with a smile.
Anna nodded, blankly staring at the shelves of liquor behind the bar. “You're right though Charlie, I need to let it go,” Anna said and then grasped him by the hand with a gentle squeeze. “Come on, let's dance.”
The after-work crowd swelled into the small tavern and the beer flowed freely. Anna wanted to forget her day. Forget the last six hundred days. Forget her mother's murder. Forget Billy. She welcomed the numbness the drinks provided and longed to drown herself in it. To climb deeper into the hazy euphoric recesses of what the alcohol offered. A convenient escape.
After several hours of drinking and dancing, Charlie took Anna aside.
“I have to work tomorrow, we‘re not all retired,” he ribbed.
“Oh come on Charlie,” Anna complained. “How often do I go out to the bar?”
“I can't remember the last time, which is all the more reason you should go home. You'll thank me tomorrow, I'm sure. Curfew's not far off anyway and I want to be home well before then.”
Even through her impaired judgment, Anna knew Charlie was right. “Fine, let's go home,” she replied, scowling and then punched Charlie in the left shoulder.
“Ow,” Charlie complained while rubbing the muscle.
“Pussy!”
They walked out to the car and Anna hopped in the driver's seat.
“You're not driving,” Charlie said.
“Nope, I don't have to drive, the car drives itshelf,” she slurred and then leaned into Charlie's muscular chest while pressing her finger on the biometric start button.
'Warning. A blood alcohol content of more than 0.08 percent has been detected. Safety shut down initiated' The car's dashboard speaker announced.
“Move over Anna, the car won‘t let you drive.”
Charlie helped Anna slide over to the other side of the car. The hand he was using to steady himself slipped off the dashboard and he fell into her chest. Charlie’s five o'clock shadow brushing across Anna‘s neck sent a show
er of electricity down her spine.
Anna trembled.
Charlie's hair ran across Anna's earlobe, tickling the sensitive skin it found there.
Anna giggled. She sat up while pushing Charlie off her.
“Oh Charlie, are you trying to get in my pants?”
That could be nice, was the thought warmly buzzing through her head as she tried to remember the last time she had sex.
Charlie climbed off of Anna and settled into the seat beside her. “Thank god for smart cars,” he whispered, ignoring Anna's comment. She flopped over onto Charlie's sinewy shoulder. It was Charlie's turn to hold his finger on the start button.
'A blood alcohol content of 0.05 percent has been detected. Operation is not recommended. Manual operation has been suspended.'
“Yeah, yeah,” Charlie responded. “Recommendation noted,” he added and then pushed the auto drive feature on the dashboard.
◆◆◆
“Wake up Anna, we're here,” Charlie said, nudging her gently.
“What? We're home?”
“Yes, come on, I'll help you in.” Charlie put his arms beneath Anna and lifted her from the seat. Anna placed her arm around Charlie's strong neck as he carried her to the house.
“Do you want to come inside?” Anna asked through a sheepish grin.
Charlie smiled. “Oh, it's a tempting offer Anna, but that's probably not a good idea.”
“Aw. Are you sure?” Anna pouted.
“Yes, we're partners remember?”
“Not anymore. I got fired, remember?” Anna replied. “I guess you're too much of a gentleman to take advantage of a helpless drunk girl?”
“Anna, I would do it in a heartbeat if you hadn't been drinking, and we weren't partners. I have more respect for you than that. I'll be honest, I have...” Charlie paused before finishing. “... feelings.”
Anna wrinkled her brow.
Feelings?
Anna sighed. “Oh,” she replied, touching Charlie's chin. “I wasn't looking for feelings.”
Charlie tensed. “And I'm not looking to just fill a physical need. That's why I can't Anna. After the last time you talked me into it, I said I would never do it again.”
