Never Say Never

by Taylor Holloway

  Charlie

  Thomas was surprisingly, almost freakishly calm for a man with a large butcher knife to his throat. Nurses. They had nerves of fucking steel. If anything, Thomas looked supremely pissed off rather than frightened. His apartment was also totally trashed. The two had clearly had a knockdown drag out fight before Paul got the knife. The loud bang we’d heard earlier was either the exploded microwave, the tipped over dresser and television set, or the shattered mirror. Maybe all three.

  Paul was three inches taller and probably thirty pounds heavier than Thomas, but if I had to put money on one of them in a fair fight right now, it would definitely be Thomas due to sheer force of rage. Unfortunately, he looked one impulsive move away from having his throat slit by an increasingly unbalanced and desperate Paul. I needed him out of this room immediately. Once Thomas was gone, I’d simply shoot Paul in the leg and call in Murray. Or something. I’d figure it out.

  “Ok, Paul,” I said soothingly, “let’s get Thomas out of danger so you and I can talk about what you need.”

  I was discovering that it was difficult to calm someone down while simultaneously pointing a gun at them. Paul’s eyes kept darting between my face and the gun as if trying to figure out whether he could rush me with the knife quickly enough to stab me before I shot him. I did not intend to let him try. One wrong move and I would shoot him. The only reason I hadn’t done so yet was that I wasn’t sure how good a shot I’d be and didn’t want to accidentally hit Thomas.

  Paul was staring off into space instead of moving, I realized after a moment. He was doing that a lot lately.

  “Paul. Paul!” I had to repeat his name several times to regain his attention. The guy was sweating buckets and the hand holding knife was shaking. His fear just made him more unpredictable. “Stay with me here man.”

  “What?” he snapped at me, twitching the knife at Thomas throat. Thomas’ eyes were focused down on the silvery edge beneath his chin and he leaned back slightly until Paul moved it back to its former position. Thomas and I both exhaled in relief.

  “Paul, we need to get Thomas out of here, remember?” We’d literally just had this conversation. In the sarcastic depths of my mind, I wondered if Paul had accidentally inhaled some carbon monoxide and lost a few essential braincells.

  “Yeah. Ok. I don’t want to hurt anyone else. I just want to get out of here.” Paul nodded.

  “Good. Very good.” I nodded at him encouragingly.

  “I’m gonna’ bring him forward and let him walk out of the room. You stay right there, ok?” Paul’s voice was trembling, and his face was lined with dried tears. He had cuts and bruises all over his body—either from this fight or damage Eva had done to him earlier, and his black leather driving gloves were dripping blood from the wrists. He must have some cuts or something underneath them.

  “That’s just fine.” I did my best to keep my voice casual and calm, but inside I still felt anything but. The desire to kill Paul had fled pretty much the second I laid eyes on him and saw how pathetic he was, but I was still going to make sure he faced justice today.

  Paul was clearly not some sort of a criminal mastermind. He was just a desperate guy whose bad decisions had gotten really, wildly, horribly out of control. I didn’t forgive him, not even a little bit, but I thought I had a pretty good understanding of him. The relief on his face when I’d told him Eva was alright and virtually unharmed had been impossible to fake.

  As we all stood there uselessly in Thomas’ mess of an apartment, Paul was still working himself up to moving. Thomas stared at me as if to say, “What the fuck, man?” but he stayed quiet. Just getting them to this point had taken several minutes of heavy negotiation and attempts to calm them down.

  “Take your time, Paul,” I said after a few more moments of no movement.

  “I’m going!” His voice was high and alarmed, like I’d just rudely surprised him from a deep contemplation.

  I stifled a sigh. I hadn’t meant to rush him, but we did need to move this little circus along at some point.

  Paul and Thomas shuffled forward one slow, torturous step at a time. With each step toward me and the door, Paul’s knife was coming closer to me as well. I had the gun, but it would be stupid to ignore the huge knife. Especially because he’d already cut Thomas’ arm with it during their fight. The shallow cut was still dripping blood but didn’t look too bad all things considered. Thomas was probably too hyped up on adrenaline to even feel discomfort. That’s how it had always been when I got in fights as a kid. You don’t feel any pain until way later, but it does catch up to you.

  “Ok. When I get to the door, I’m going to let you go. Do you understand?” Paul said to Thomas. He gesticulated with the knife, which made Thomas’ eyes grow huge in his face.

  “Yeah. Of course, I fucking understand. I’m not an idiot.” Thomas’ fear seemed to manifest in rudeness.

  “Don’t get smart with me boy.” The knife moved a half inch closer to Thomas’ neck.

  “Oh, you did not just call me ‘boy’. Fuuuuuck you.”

  “I called you boy because you’re like forty years younger than me. It wasn’t a racist thing.” Another half inch of space disappeared between Thomas’ neck and the edge of the blade.

  “Don’t even start. I know what it was.” It was almost like Thomas wanted to get cut. I honestly didn’t know what to do.

  “I’m not a racist,” Paul snapped angrily. Paul, the man who’d murdered two people, tried to frame someone, and tried to suffocate someone else just today, did not like being called a racist. His face turned red and his hands trembled.

  I was losing control of this situation. The fact that these two were having an argument like this, at a time like this, was surreal. I thought people only behaved like this in movies.

  “Gentlemen, please,” I tried. “You’re both under a great deal of pressure right now. Let’s just get this over with.”

  Both of them looked at me and scowled. Well shit. Now they were both mad at me.

  “Oh no,” I followed up sarcastically, falling prey to the same hysterical immaturity that had apparently overtaken them. “This is great. Let’s just argue over whether Paul is a racist for the rest of the afternoon. That will work out well.”

  Finally, both men looked vaguely chagrined. Paul nodded. Then Thomas.

  “Ok. Let’s get this done.”

  A familiar voice from outside interrupted.

  “L'arme n'est pas chargée. Poussez-le en avant! Fais le maintenant!”

  Before Eva finished talking, Thomas grabbed Paul’s hand holding the knife with both of his and spun himself around so that Paul was on the other side of him, facing the door. In the same movement, he pushed Paul and himself backward past the threshold of the door.

  I moved too, grabbing Thomas’ arm and pulling him sideways away from Paul and to the side. Paul was now standing alone, just past the threshold. Murray and Flint were instantly on either side of him, with their guns pointed directly at Paul’s head.

  Paul had no choice but to raise both his hands and get on his knees per Murray’s screamed command. He dropped the knife and started crying almost immediately. He looked as relieved as anything else. Thomas was pulled away by Flint to get a look at his wounds, and everyone muttered into radios for a bit as I caught sight of Eva leaning against the wall of the corridor a few feet away.

  “Maybe you just stick to the legal bullshitting from now on and leave the police work to us,” Murray said once Flint had Paul in handcuffs. He pushed the revolver’s barrel down and to the side before removing the revolver from my hand carefully and spinning the chamber. “Rule one. Always check to make sure your gun is loaded.”

  I looked over at Eva again who was standing with a firefighter and the oxygen mask still attached to her face. She shrugged. Despite the scowl from the stern-faced woman at her side, Eva pulled the mask away from her voice enough to say,

  “You said to carry it around. Not to load it.”

  I walk
ed over and wrapped my arms around her, too tired to argue. She was right. Only technically, but she was still right.

  44

  Eva

  In the crazy, loud, confusing aftermath we finally learned the truth. It was Murray who came around and told me and Charlie while we were sitting—momentarily forgotten—on the floor of the hallway. He slumped against the wall and slowly descended until he was sitting across from us.

  “Well, I thought you might like to know that Paul has now confessed to everything. He has suddenly become extremely amenable to telling the truth.”

  “That’s good,” I said. My voice came out in a tired wheeze. I’d finally been released from the bondage of the oxygen tank and had been half-napping against Charlie’s side.

  Murray yawned and nodded. “Yes, yes, it is. It certainly makes things a lot easier. We learned a few new things, too.”

  “Oh really?” Charlie asked. “Like what?”

  “Like the fact that the frostbite on his fingers and toes was caused when he tried to drag Stephen from the garage where he’d suffocated to the garden, so he could be disposed of. The murder hadn’t been premeditated, and he wasn’t wearing his gloves at the time. Dragging or carrying a two-hundred-and-thirty-pound man a mile through the snow was no easy task. He got halfway across the lawn in the dead of night and gave up when his fingers started turning black. Then he buried the body under the leaves and thought he had until spring to move the body. Little did he know that Isaac was such a dedicated gardener.”

  “Are you having a doctor look at his extremities? He needs a debridement.” Even after he’d tried to murder me, I was still concerned about Paul’s suffering. He really needed to get those hands evaluated. Murray and Charlie exchanged a disbelieving look.

  “He’ll be evaluated when he gets to jail,” Murray replied.

  “He’s going to lose the tips of most of them,” I said. My voice sounded as hoarse as a crone, but I was determined to make my point. “He’ll have a really hard time in prison with only five fingers and no toes.”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much about his comfort in prison,” Murray told us. “I wouldn’t worry too much about him at all. The man just tried—and almost succeeded— in murdering you.”

  “I’m well aware of Paul’s faults. I also know he failed to seriously harm me. But even if he had killed me he’s still a human being and deserves to be examined by a doctor to ease his suffering.” My voice was tart and unwavering this time, and I was pleased that I sounded less frail. Murray’s glance pinged from Charlie’s face to mine. At my side, Charlie shrugged.

  “Fine. I’ll make sure he sees a doctor,” he finally said, breaking into a mean spirited smile. “I may be a no good, dirty cop, but if it were up to me he’d just have to watch them fall off one by one.”

  “Then I’m glad it’s not up to you.” I very much disliked Murray. Before today I’d been relatively neutral on him, but the fact that he allowed Charlie into the room with Paul and Thomas had put him even beneath Paul in my estimation. I was much more possessive of Charlie than I ever would have thought possible, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. He was mine.

  “Ok, well this has been a fun chat but I really need to go. Important police business to attend to, you know.” Murray said, standing back up and clearly looking forward to getting away from me. I wasn’t done quite yet, however. I had one last thing to say to Murray.

  “I don’t like you Detective Murray, but I really appreciate you not shooting Paul today. I know you probably could have, and that Richard probably wanted you to and would have paid you to do it, but you didn’t. Thank you.”

  Murray blinked, and Charlie’s mouth dropped open in shock. Charlie’s mouth closed into a smile as he realized I was right. The fact that Paul had exited the mansion tonight in anything but a body bag was something of a miracle. I’m sure that Richard would have been much happier with a clean resolution to the entire matter. Murray didn’t even bother to deny it.

  “Well you’re very welcome. I was wondering when someone would comment on that little fact. As it happens, firing a firearm as a police officer creates an ungodly large amount of police paperwork. Seriously. It’s obscene and can last years. No amount of money is worth that hassle for me and Flint. Plus, I thought sending Charlie in there with the loaded gun would virtually guarantee Paul getting killed. By the time I realized the gun wasn’t loaded, circumstances had changed.” He shrugged. “So, he’s alive. I’d say it worked out pretty well.”

  Charlie must have been glaring at Murray.

  “Oh what?” Murray asked him. “You know you wanted to shoot him. I didn’t make you do anything. You argued with me to go in there. I even tried to talk you out of it.”

  Charlie frowned. He was right. He’d been played. If Charlie had shot and killed Paul it would have been a justifiable homicide and he probably wouldn’t even be charged, but he’d have to go the rest of his life knowing he was capable of killing a man. Thanks to my unloaded gun, that wouldn’t happen.

  Murray got back on his feet and walked off, leaving me wondering what sort of man he really was. Yes, he was on Richard’s payroll, but he wasn’t lazy, or stupid, or even extremely unethical. He had his own brand of right and wrong, and although I didn’t agree with him, I could see things from his perspective. It was just another shade of grey in the sea of greys that I seemed to be swimming in these days.

  “Dylan texted me that he quit his job yesterday,” I said to Charlie, interrupting his introspection.

  He nodded. “Yeah. I talked to him about it. He’s really happy.”

  “I’m happy for him. I think I’m going to do the same thing.”

  “Quit?”

  “Yeah. I’ve had enough. You asked how dangerous it needed to be for me to quit? Well, now we know.”

  “You’re the toughest person I’ve ever met.”

  “I don’t know. Your mom seems pretty tough.”

  “That’s true. She is. Maybe it’s a tie.”

  “That’s a great compliment. Thank you.”

  He put an arm back around my shoulders and pulled me closer. Using his free arm, Charlie tilted my head up to kiss me. I probably tasted a bit dusty from crawling around on the garage floor, but he didn’t seem to care. I was content.

  “I’m so lucky to have you Eva. I love you, do you know that?”

  No man had ever said those words to me before, but staring into Charlie’s warm brown eyes, I knew it was true. I could almost see our future in his eyes.

  “I love you too.”

  “Charlie!” An all-too-familiar voice interrupted in that moment, absolutely ruining our romantic vibe. Richard stalked down the corridor trailed by Alexander Jr. and his sister Deborah. “Charlie! The press are assembling outside. We need to get ahead of this crisis. You need to go talk to them immediately.”

  45

  Charlie

  Eva loved me. I could see it in her eyes and feel it in her kiss. I believed it to the core of my being. So, when Richard came storming down the corridor to demand that I manage yet another of his self-imposed crises, I had only one thing to say to him.

  “No.”

  Richard stared at me like I was speaking another language. To be fair, this wasn’t a word he heard very often. People that told Richard ‘no’ tended not stick around his immediate vicinity for long. I certainty had no intention of lingering here.

  “What?” His voice was totally disbelieving.

  Well, actually it turned out that I had two things to say to Richard. It felt so, so good. Next to telling Eva ‘I love you’ the next two words were the most satisfying I’d ever uttered.

  “I quit.”

  “You can’t quit, you’re on retainer with Clark and Jeffries.” Richard still wasn’t understanding how serious I was. I would not be going outside to stare into flash bulbs. I would not be answering four hundred versions of the same insipid questions. I would not be misdirecting, or obfuscating, or spinning, or any of the other bu
llshitting skills I’d refined and perfected over the past five years. I would not be fixing this for Richard. Not this time. But as for Clark and Jeffries?

  “Yeah I quit them too. You can call and I’m sure they’ll have someone drive out here right away. I’d request Clark himself, but I doubt he’d want to touch this one with a thirty-foot pole. But I’m just not going to go out there and lie for you. Because of your lies, and because of the things you withheld from me throughout this process, Eva almost got murdered. Thomas almost got his throat cut today. I’m beyond done cleaning up your messes Richard. You’re on your own.”

  Nothing in my professional life had ever been as satisfying as rolling to my feet, reaching out a hand to Eva, and walking away down the hallway with her as Richard gaped like a goldfish in my direction. His two siblings were staring at each other in confusion when I caught a look at them. I didn’t need to turn around to imagine Richard turning that awful beet-purple color that he did when he was well and truly upset. With Richard, yelling was actually a good sign. You knew he was really worked up when he was quiet. Behind me, not a peep could be heard.

  At the core of my being, I’d finally come to understand that my mom’s health and my job working for the Durant family were no longer intertwined. Her cancer was gone. It’s objectively true that cancer can happen to anyone but getting breast cancer again after a successful double mastectomy is also objectively very difficult. I needed to stop living in fear for my mother and start living my life on my terms. That meant quitting immediately.

  “Mrs. Breyer?” Eva said over her shoulder, pulling us both to a stop. “I’m quitting, too. I hope you’ll forgive the lack of two weeks’ notice, but I got chased, beaten up, tied up, shoved in a trunk, and almost murdered today so I don’t feel that professional courtesy is really warranted. You’re lucky I’m just going to go away quietly. I’ll be by tomorrow to say goodbye to Alexander and get all my stuff.”