Combining Riches (Riches to Rags Book 2)

by Mairsile Leabhair

  “Your friend, the one who’s looking for the victim, perhaps she would be a good choice to accompany you.”

  “Because she carries a gun?” That did make me feel safer about things.

  “Oh goodness, no. From what I understand, her sister was killed by a drunk driver, is that correct?”

  “Yes, Meg’s sister, Bonnie. She was my best friend.”

  “I’m so sorry, dear. Now I’m even more convinced that Meg should accompany you.”

  I thought about what she was saying, realizing that she was waiting for me to figure it out for myself. “You’re right, Norma. She was a victim almost as much as her sister was. Meg has some really hard feelings toward the man who killed Bonnie, and I don’t blame her. After he got out of prison for manslaughter, he went straight to a bar and started drinking again. I apologized to Meg for my drinking, before I asked her to help find the man I ran over. I was relieved when she told me she already knew about it, and that she accepted my apology, on Bonnie’s behalf.”

  Norma smiled. “She has the capacity to forgive. She just needs the opportunity. Like you are giving to your victim.”

  “Well, Meg has given him the opportunity to confess his sins, and he never has. It’s probably too late for an apology now, anyway.”

  “It’s never too late, dear. Not for a sincere apology. And she may never have that apology from him, but she can still forgive him. She can still let the anger go. But let’s get back to you. You fear that his family might be with him. That will be extremely uncomfortable for you, I’m sure, but you must stand before them, as if naked. And by that I don’t mean that your body is unclothed, I mean that your mind is. Let them dress you with their grievances, acknowledging their pain, when asking their forgiveness. But, whether they forgive you or not, whether he forgives you, dear, you must let it go afterward, because at that point, there is nothing more you can do for them. They will have to come to terms on their own.”

  “Is it really that easy, Norma?”

  “Good God, no, as you are fond of saying? Or is that Melinda?” She smiled at me.

  “Melinda, actually,” I said. I’m growing fond of it, too.

  Her face became more pensive. “It is achievable, Chris, and it does allow you to live a happy life. The memory of what you did will never go away, but it will no longer taunt you. Instead it will be a positive part of you in that it will become an aide-mémoire should you be faced with that choice again.”

  “Trust me, I don’t need help in that area. Liquor will never touch my lips again, not even beer or wine.”

  “I believe you,” said Norma.

  “Thank you for this, Norma. I do feel better about things.”

  “I’m honored that you could confide in me, my dear.”

  “I always knew I could, Norma. It’s just that I was afraid to speak it out loud.”

  “Chris, you are at the place where I was at, after Hollywood decided that I was too old for the starring roles, and too young for the mature ones. I had a decision to make. Either I hole up in my house and pine away for days gone by, or I move on, and find a new career and a new purpose in life. But there was one thing stopping me. I was afraid to be afraid.”

  “I don’t understand, Norma.” Was it my groggy brain, or was she speaking in riddles? “You were afraid of being afraid of something?”

  “Yes, exactly,” Norma said. “Fear causes fear, which causes fear. When I could no longer feel anything but fear, I went to a psychiatrist, and with his help, I faced all my fears and I was able to move on.”

  “So if I face my victim, won’t my fears go away?”

  “If that were the only anxiety you had. But I think perhaps there are other things equally as bad that are bothering you.”

  My eyes opened wide, and my mouth was suddenly dry. I took a sip of tea to hydrate it, and wondered, had Norma looked into my mind and seen what I was trying to hide? She looked at me as if she understood what I was thinking.

  “No, Chris, I don’t know what keeps you awake at night. But I do know that you don’t have to deal with that right now. In fact, I would suggest you set it to the side and get past the main cause of your fear first.”

  “I wish it was that easy, Norma. But I think you’re right. I will put all my energy into preparing to apologize to that poor—” Before I could finish my sentence, a yawn took hold of the air in my lungs. And then another yawn followed that one. “Oh, I’m sorry about that, Norma. I don’t know where that came from all of a sudden.”

  Norma smiled and poured more tea into my cup. “You’re just exhausted, my dear. Why don’t you finish your tea and take a nice long nap? I have a feeling that by the time you wake up, Melinda will be back to check on you.”

  “I don’t know, I was pretty mean to her. She might be afraid to come back.” I laughed, hoping I was wrong because, unlike the other, I was looking forward to apologizing to her.

  “Remember what I said about fear breeding fear, dear.” Norma rose and cupped my chin. “Now off to bed with you, young lady.”

  I stood up and pulled her into my arms, whispering into her ear, “Thank you, Norma, thank you so much.”

  “Just as you were there for me, Christine, I am here for you, always.”

  Chapter Nine

  Do You Always Have to Be Such a Hard Ass? — Melinda aka Blackie Blackstone and Meg Bumgartner

  “Hey, Meg, we need to talk.” I barged into Meg’s office and stopped short when I saw her shaking hands with a beautiful woman. “Oh shit. I’m sorry about that. I’ll uh, just be waiting out here.”

  “Don’t be silly, hun,” the lady said with a smile. “I was just leaving. Y’all have a good day now, ya hear.” And with that, the gorgeous blonde with the sparkling blue eyes and dimpled cheeks walked past me, her butt cheeks dancing to a rhythm I wished I could hear. As soon as the door closed behind her, ending my erotic fantasies, I turned my attention back to Meg.

  “Blackie, what the hell do you want now?” Meg asked as she poured herself a small snifter of scotch.

  I licked my dry lips and breathed in through my nose, hoping to catch a whiff of her drink. “Is that anyway to talk to your client?”

  “You are not my client, and there’s a reason for that. So get on with whatever your latest irritating problem is, so I can take my wife to lunch.”

  “Offer me a diet soda, and I will.” I really, really, wanted that scotch she was enjoying, but since it was Meg that I would have to get it from, I decided to play it safe.

  She sat her glass down and walked over to the mini-bar and pulled a can from the refrigerator. Handing the soda to me, she sat down at her desk. Leaning back, she propped her feet up on the corner edge and picked up her drink. She sat there, sipping her drink and staring at the wall, completely ignoring me.

  “Okay, here’s the deal,” I said as I popped the lid open on the can and sat down across from her. “Chris and I were downtown yesterday, and we walked into an alley behind the brothel house, and—” I stopped, the words caught in my throat. I suddenly realized it was a whore house. She was sleeping in the alley behind a whore house! Could that be it? Could that be what scared her so bad?

  Meg sat up straight and put her drink down. “What do you think you know, Blackie?”

  “Meg, no bullshit now. Give it to me straight. Was she prostituting herself?”

  “And what would you say if I said she was? Would you suddenly become sanctimonious and dump her?”

  I stood there, staring at her. I couldn’t say anything. My tears drowned my voice, as they flooded my eyes. I didn’t mean to cry, especially in front of my nemesis, but the thought of Chris having to prostitute herself, just to stay alive, was too much. That was so far removed from who I thought she was that surely I was mistaken.

  “Settle down, Blackie. That’s not what happened. I would never have allowed her to do that to herself. Not on my watch.”

  I looked at her incredulously, my anger quickly drying up my tears. “Your gallantry is
shadowed by your cruelty, Meg.”

  “I wasn’t purposely trying to be cruel. I asked a question that you haven’t answered yet.” Meg sat back in her chair, thinking she knew the answer already.

  “The answer is fuck no, I wouldn’t dump her because of that. I’m not that sanctimonious, or haven’t you noticed by now.”

  “I’ve noticed a great many things about you, Blackie, and I’m waiting for the façade to be over with, so you’ll show your true heart.”

  “The wait is over then, because this is my true heart. A heart madly in love with Chris, and that just annoys the hell out of you, doesn’t it, Meg?”

  “Yes, it does frankly, because I know you’re going to hurt her at some point, and it annoys me that I can’t stop you.”

  This was getting me nowhere. A war of words with a hard ass like Meg can’t be fought in a day nor won in a year. I needed to get her to talk about that back alley, and I needed her to give me a straight answer, if that’s even possible for her. But, the best way to get down to it, was to ask the question outright.

  “Meg, what was in that alley that upset Chris so much?”

  Remember Me? — Meg Bumgartner and Bernice Myers

  Like the Matthew McConaughey commercial, I sat behind the wheel of my car, rubbing my fingers together, watching the road as I drove across town, contemplating my encounter with Blackie. I had kicked her out of my office, telling her that if she wanted to know, she would have to ask Chrissie. It’s not my story to tell, and even if it were, I certainly wouldn’t tell that rich bitch, no matter how many crocodile tears she shed. I looked left and turned right, and then admitted to myself that they weren’t fake tears. You can’t cry on cue like that without peeling an onion first. Sooner or later, I was going to have to face the fact that Blackie really does love Chrissie, but for now, it would have to wait.

  Right now, I’m looking for the man Chrissie hit with her car, so that she can have her moment with him, and hopefully come to terms with what she did. I have an old friend at the hall of records that I used to date, but decided she would make a better friend than a lover. I’m hoping to sweet talk her into giving me some information on Chrissie’s victim. I hate to play the friend card on her, but this was too damn important.

  I parked my Fiat behind City Hall and took the stairs down two flights, to the records’ office.

  “Hey, Bernice, remember me?”

  Bernice looked up from her filing and grins, “No, have we met?”

  “Aw, now don’t be like that. You know you’re my number one girl.” A little innocent flirting that I won’t be telling my wife about.

  “Sure, number one when you want something, other than me, that is.”

  Bernice Myers, pudgy, but pretty, with her cherub cheeks, devious green eyes and copper hair, was a lot of fun in bed, but not much fun to live with. Very stoic and very obsessive-compulsive. I’m apathetic, but not so much obsessive-compulsive. It was a bad mix from the beginning, but we did manage to remain friends, sort of.

  “I’m married now, Bernice, and only have eyes for her. You know this, why are you being so difficult?” I was edging toward anger, which would not get me what I needed.

  Bernice shook her head. “I’m sorry, Megs, I’m having a bad day. In fact, the whole week has sucked.”

  “Break up with another girlfriend?”

  “Yes, how did you know?”

  I gave her the standard answer. “I’m a detective. I detected it.” Because you’re going for the Guinness Book of World Records in breakups.

  “I’m impressed, but then I always have been, with you” she said with a smile. “So, what brings you to my messy office?”

  She was joking, because her office, which was nothing more than a desk surrounded by rows of filing cabinets, was pristine. Unlike my office, which was cluttered with papers and empty coffee cups. Another thing that put us at odds with each other.

  “I need your help on a very sensitive matter that could save a life.” I laid it on thick, but I wasn’t lying. If Chrissie couldn’t fulfill her goal, she may well decide to crawl back into that bottle again, and by God, I was not going to let that happen.

  “Sounds illegal. What’s in it for me?” she asked.

  “Well, uh, what do you want?” In my wild, risqué past, I would have promised to sleep with her to get what I wanted, but I’m not wild anymore, I’m married. If I could choose over again, I’d still choose marriage.

  Bernice tilted her head and put her finger to her cheek, tapping it as she thought out loud. “What do I want? Let’s see, is a weekend at a spa doable?”

  I nodded.

  “Oh! Wait. What about a weekend in Vegas?”

  The tension in my neck shot up and out of my eyes. Bernice noticed my furrowed brow, and scolded me.

  “If you want me to risk my job for you, you’ve gotta pay up first, Meg. That’s the deal.”

  So much for friendship. I gave it some thought, and suddenly the answer popped into my head. I held up my finger to Bernice, then pulled out my cellphone, and called Blackie.

  I rattled off quickly, “Blackie, if you want to help Chris, you’ll do me a favor with no questions asked.” It’s all about the bribes. Bernice bribes me, I bribe Blackie.

  I held the phone away from my ear as she shouted profanities at me. Blackie and I were alike in one way. We both knew how to cuss a blue streak. As soon as she took a breath, I cut in and told her that I needed her apartment in Vegas for the weekend, plus airfare to get my client there. More obscenities.

  I took a few steps away from Bernice as I waited for Blackie to calm down. It was a long wait, and I was holding my breath that she wouldn’t hang up on me. I knew that I was going to have to tell her why I needed her apartment, and the thought of owing Blackie anything turned my stomach.

  Finally I was tired of waiting and I yelled into the phone, “Look, damn it. If you don’t want to help Chrissie, then don’t. I’ll find some other fucking way to help your girlfriend out.”

  Silence. Blackie calmed down and asked me what was going on. I explained everything to her. How I needed to see the files that were sealed, and the requirements Bernice had in order to show them to me. I assured her that Bernice was a good kid, she just needed to get away and have some fun, and since Blackie knew all about having fun, I thought she’d want to help out. Blackie swore again, and then agreed to all of it, and tossed in a few more generous offers.

  I hung up and returned my attention to Bernice.

  “Okay, you’ve got a deal. Blackie’s private jet will be waiting for you at the airport as soon as you get off work Friday afternoon. Invite who you want to go with you, the penthouse is yours for the weekend. Just do me a favor and don’t break anything or neither one of us will hear the end of it.”

  Bernice was beside herself with giddiness. The only time I’d ever seen her that happy was when she climaxed. She took the name that I wrote down for her and went down the row of cabinets until she found the L section. She pick through the folders until she found the one I needed and brought it back. Lying it on the desk, she excused herself and left the office. She was a lot smarter than I gave her credit for. She could claim plausible deniability if needed, because she would not have witnessed my looking through the folder.

  I took out my cellphone again and used the camera app to take pictures of the files, so I could read them later. I did read who the victim was, and it was not someone that I knew, personally or socially, and I found myself exhaling with relief.

  I put the file back on Bernice’s desk and exited the office, running into her at the coffee machine.

  “Have fun in Vegas,” I said, and waved to her as I climbed the stairs back to the main lobby. Now that I had a name, I needed to investigate his background, his recovery, even his family. Not that I expected to find anything. I just needed to be assured that there would be no interference when Chrissie stood before him and apologized. I wanted no surprises for her, no delays, no reprisals.

&nb
sp; Sleeping Beauty — Melinda Blackstone

  I picked up George and drove back home, still angry from my telephone conversation with Meg. The nerve of that woman. Calling me for a favor after the way she treated me. She’s got some set of balls on her. If it wasn’t for helping Chris, I would have told her to fuck off. But since it was, I couldn’t say no to Meg’s request. Not if it will help Chris out. She has been on my mind so much today, and not in that “madly in love and can’t think of anything else but her” kind of way. I’m worried, for her, for us, for what I could lose.

  Valentine’s Day was coming up, and I’ve got big plans for us. Plans that I hope will cheer her up and put that gorgeous smile back on her face. It just kills me to see her so upset like that. Plans that—

  “Hello? Earth to Blackie.”

  “What? Were you saying something, George?”

  “Yes, we’re here. Aren’t you coming in?”

  “Uh, yeah, of course I am.”

  George and I walked into the vestibule and just as I took the first two steps upstairs to find Chris, Norma stopped me, and told me that Chris was finally sleeping. I thought about it and told her that I still wanted to check on her, but that I wouldn’t wake her.

  I tiptoed into the room, and Norma was right, Chris was peacefully asleep. She looked so young, so fragile, that I wanted to crawl into bed with her and just hold her while she slept. But I knew that would probably wake her up, so instead I sat in the chair beside her side of the bed and watched her sleep.

  Her long, sandy hair flowed across her face and over her neck, framing her shuddering lips, and causing her nose to twitch. My heart melted. She rolled over toward me, and her hand dangled off the side of the bed. I couldn’t resist. I softly slipped my hand in hers and lightly held it. God, you are so beautiful.

  “Melinda?” she mumbled.

  “Shh, no. You’re having a dream,” I whispered.

  “Em, what a wonderful dream.”

  She turned onto her back and I waited to see if she was going to wake up. Her lips trembled again and I knew she was asleep, so I quietly kicked off my clothes and slipped into bed beside her. I just wanted to be close to her, feel the warmth emanating off her slumbering body, and be content in her closeness.