by Annie Bruce
“Oh, and it’s Ms.” It took a minute for him to realize that she was answering his earlier question.
“Ms. Faraday,” he wrote the name in his notebook to at least make it look like he meant to check into this matter. Ms. didn’t mean she was married but then again it didn’t mean that she wasn’t. He looked at her hands. No wedding or engagement ring. But not everybody today wore their rings. If she were his wife he’d make sure she wore it!
He jerked upright in his chair when he realized where his thoughts were going.
“Are you okay?” Leaning forward, she had a genuine look of concern for him on her face. A waft of her perfume began to tantalize his senses. He leaned back to break the spell she was beginning to cast on him.
“Yeah, bad back is all,” holding his hand to his lower back for emphasis. “Old football injury.” So Morris told a fib – just a little one. He did play football in school and he had been injured many times but he always made a full recovery.
At the moment, he wasn’t sure just how far this investigation would go. Right now the prospects included a few inquiries and a disappointed Ms. Faraday when he told her there was nothing more he could do. Maybe she’d let him console her after this was all over with.
Before his mind wandered any further away from reality he pulled a card from inside his jacket and handed it to her making sure their hands didn’t touch. “Well, if you think of anything else give me a call.”
Maggie took the card with a stunned look. “Is that it?”
“I’ll call you as soon as I have any new information.” That look of frustration and sorrow swept over her beautifully shaped features again. “I promise.” He stood to leave.
“Detective Morris?” Her voice was compelling, firm but sensual, sending shivers of desire up his spine.
“Yes.” Not wanting to leave but knowing he had to for fear he’d ask her out on a date.
“I’m not some hysterical woman.” She stood up for emphasis. She wasn’t as tall as him but he noticed that she’d fit comfortably in his arms on the dance floor.
“Owen Cassidy did not commit suicide.” Her determination gave him pause.
“I don’t think you’re being hysterical.” He looked down at her from his higher advantage towering over her just enough for her head to tilt back ever so slightly, exposing the smooth skin of her throat. “I’m just not sure how much there is to investigate right now.”
A deep sigh told him she was disappointed in his response.
“Look, Ms. Faraday, let me see what I can find out before we jump to any conclusions.”
Her posture straightened slightly.
“Thank you detective.” She touched his arm, her eyes locking with his.
Patting her hand he smiled back and left before he gave into his strong desire to kiss her.
Maggie watched as the detective disappeared through the restaurant door. Despite the gravity of the situation she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He slid effortlessly into his police sedan and drove away leaving her with a sudden and overwhelming sense of loneliness. Lowering herself onto the chair that was still warm from his body she slid her hand across its fabric trying to soak up some of his heat.
Still feeling his presence she wanted to keep her connection to him alive for as long as possible. When their eyes met, she felt a strong attraction to this man who was summoned into her life by such horrible circumstances. But looking into those blue windows to his soul she felt her fear and her control melting away. She could lose herself in his eyes.
She once read that everyone had that one perfect person for them, their soul mate, and that it would be obvious the first time they met. Could this be it for her? Could she have found that one perfect man who could be her hero? And, she so desperately needed a hero right now.
So entrenched was she in her thoughts and fantasies that she didn’t notice her brother sitting at the table next to her.
“So, is he going to find out what happened to Owen?”
Maggie jumped, clutching her hand to her heart.
“How did you know?” She said breathlessly, so sure she’d been discreet. Not as close to Owen as she was, Donald’s time away in the army and then in college meant the two had little contact. An old family friend, Owen was more like an uncle to Maggie.
“When have you ever been able to hide anything from me, little sister?”
Maggie gave him the look. She hated when he called her that. He might have been younger but her small stature compared to his height and large presence made the reverse seem more likely. It was true that she couldn’t hide anything from him. He always seemed to know her secrets. That’s what made him so dangerous.
“Okay, okay. You caught me.” Maggie looked sheepish. “But watch the little sister comments. I am the oldest after all.”
“So, how far are you planning to take this little investigation of yours?” His expression turned serious.
“Don’t tell me you believe Owen killed himself!”
“Of course not. But, it sounds like somebody did a good job of making it look like he did. I’m just not sure that you can prove that he didn’t. ”
“I know. But I have to try.”
Donald grabbed Maggie’s hand from across the table and made her look up at him.
“Look, Mags,” she hated when he called her that too. “I wasn’t as close to Owen as you were, and I’m sure I’d be doing the same thing if I was.”
Maggie’s eyes filled with tears.
“But, I don’t want to lose you.”
Her head shot up at his last comment.
“Whomever made Owen’s death look like a suicide went to a lot of trouble to do so.”
“And?”
“So, they might just go to a lot of trouble to keep anyone from proving otherwise.”
Maggie sat back defiantly as she was known to do when challenged.
“You don’t really think someone would try to hurt me, do you?”
“I’m just saying it’s a possibility that you can’t afford to overlook.”
The image of her twin boys flashed before her but it was just too unsettling to think let alone believe that someone might want to hurt her. She put the thought out of her mind. Besides, she already turned the whole matter over to Detective Morris. Surely he’d solve the case.
“But what if he didn’t”
“Didn’t what?”
“Oh nothing. I was just wondering if Max was going to remember to pick up the boys for spring break on time.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. Sometimes her ex did forget to pick up the boys on time.
“Okay, Maggie, have it your way. But just remember what I said and please be careful.”
Donald gave her hand a final squeeze and headed back towards the kitchen. His days as a cook and Dining Facility Sergeant in the army taught him how to manage a kitchen and manage it well, but there was no comparison on the quality of food. After leaving the army Donald trained to be a chef, which is why Maggie was willing to invest. Besides, she enjoyed how excited he was about owning his own restaurant.
Her brother’s words haunted her as she wondered if she was in over her head. But if she didn’t stand up for Owen, who would!
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Donald had turned back just before entering the kitchen. “Fred called asking for you.”
“Fred?”
“Owen’s step-son.”
“Oh.” She struggled to remember his face having met him only a few times at large gatherings. She didn’t know if she’d even recognize him were she to see him again.
For a skilled linguist Maggie often drew blanks at names and faces. It was amazing how the brain retained only certain types of information. She knew he worked at Owen’s company and that he was not one of the individuals on whom Owen had cast suspicion. Still, he hadn’t given him a clean pass either.
Fred joined the family from Owen’s second marriage. His wife, and Fred’s mother, Helen, had passed away just this past year after
a long illness. Owen was by her side night and day until the end. It was during this time that Owen suspected the illegal activities had started. Many expected him to die of a broken heart after Helen’s death but he surprised them all by returning to work shortly after she was laid to rest. It was his way of coping.
“What did he want?”
“He didn’t say. I told him I’d tell you that he called. Didn’t know if you wanted to talk to him or not.” Donald handed her a piece of paper with a number scribbled on it.
“Thanks.”
Pondering the significance of Fred’s sudden contact, she wondered if she should pass this information onto Detective Morris. She opened the half-folded piece of paper and recognized the prefix. It was a company number.
Suddenly, a chill went up her back as if she were being watched. Damn Donald for scaring her! Shaking off the feeling, she attributed it to too many late-night scary movies growing up the victim of her brother’s many pranks.
Fear fought against her desire to help clear Owen’s name. He may have been broken hearted but he never would have killed himself. It was now up to her, and hopefully Detective Morris, to prove that his death was not a suicide.
She slowly looked around the restaurant as the feeling that someone was watching her lingered. “Nope, nobody here,” laughing at herself.
“Did you say something, Miss Maggie?” Josie Morales seemed to come out of nowhere.
Maggie caught her breath. “Just talking to myself.” It was an excuse she was using a lot lately.
“Okay, Miss Maggie.” Josie eyed her skeptically.
Maggie smiled in return as the younger woman continued with her pre-opening tasks. The restaurant looked elegant but comfortable, neat but homey. Donald had done a great job in striking the right balance between comfort and style, and he had assembled a top rate staff to help him run it.
Forcing herself to relax she fought the lingering feeling that someone was still watching her. If she only knew how right she was it would have scared her to death.
Outside the restaurant window and across the street a surly looking Geridano watched Maggie squirm in her seat.
Chapter 4
Maggie’s momentary sense that everything would be okay vanished as soon as she left the restaurant. Something was terribly wrong and she knew it. At the moment, it was nothing more than a gut feeling as the devastatingly handsome detective had said, but her instincts so far had never been wrong. A gut feeling wasn’t evidence, at least not as far as the police were concerned, but she trusted hers just the same. She would find out what had happened to Owen. She owed him that much.
“Ouch!” She had bitten her lip – hard – and tasted blood.
At a red light she pulled her rear view mirror towards her to assess the damage.
“Not too bad.”
Returning the mirror to his proper angle she noticed another unmarked police car behind her, only this time Detective Morris wasn’t driving. The eerily familiar face of the man she noticed standing outside the restaurant when she left sent a streak of fear through her body.
She was being followed. Maybe Donald was right. Maybe the mystery of Owen’s death was more far reaching than even she could imagine.
“Okay, now you’re getting paranoid!” Maggie admonished herself. “It’s probably just a coincidence,” she said aloud trying to console herself. But why would a police officer follow her? Was Detective Morris having her followed? Surely, that only happened in the movies. Suddenly Maggie had images of a Goldie Hawn character comically trying to convince the police that there really were bad guys after her. As Maggie recalled nobody believed her either until it was almost too late. Fear wormed its way up her spine at the thought.
Shaking the unwanted thoughts from her head she began to laugh, harder and harder until tears welled in her eyes. Her hysterical attempt to cope with her fear was interrupted by a horn blaring from several cars back. The light had turned green and she quickly wiped the moisture from her eyes to clear her vision. Stepping on the accelerator a little too hard the car jerked forward. Easing into driving normally she noticed that the same unmarked police car was still behind her.
Sitting up straight she willed herself not to let her imagination run wild. If she wasn’t careful the officer would pull her over and give her a ticket. And what would she say? “Sorry officer, I thought you were following me like the bad guys in a movie.”
Her teeth tugged on her lower lip, her eyes darting back to the rear view mirror. The car was gone! She breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Maybe she had imagined it after all.
On a side street Geridano waited until his mark was far enough away to avoid detection. He could tell she was getting nervous. Running her plate number he waited for dispatch to come back with an address. Being a cop was great. So many ways to check up on anybody he wanted to. Armed with her address, Geridano returned to the station and saved visiting where Morris’ witness lived for another time - if that’s what she really was.
Fifteen minutes later Maggie pulled into her garage and felt a tremendous sense of relief, slipping back into her normal routine after a morning that was anything but normal.
“Mom, where did you go?” Jacob asked, coming through the front door moments later, his brother right behind him.
“Why do you think I went somewhere?”
“You still have your coat on, silly goose.” This time Joey piped in.
Maggie looked at her reflection in the framed mirror in the entryway and saw her coat still clinging to her body.
“Oh, I just went to visit Uncle Donald today. But I hurried to be back in time to make sure the two of you didn’t miss me.” She ruffled the hair on both their heads at once.
“Ah, Mom, stop that.” Jacob was always the first to protest.
“Okay, you two. Take off your coats and hang them up.” She quickly did the same.
It was a ritual they performed every day, and one Maggie looked forward to, now more than ever. It’s why she did the type of work that she did - allowing her to work from home and be here for her boys whenever they needed her. She knew just how lucky she was, especially after today.
While the boys were busy taking off coats and backpacks Maggie went into the kitchen to prepare their lunch. She looked around the lived-in but comfortably neat area that was the center of the house. Gathering the bread and other ingredients from the refrigerator she made her boys their favorite - PBJ’s. Spreading a generous amount of peanut butter on both pieces of bread, she put only a small amount of jelly in between to keep their sugar intake under control.
Plates on the table Maggie turned to get the two glasses of milk she had poured and caught a glimpse through her large kitchen window of a car parked further up the street, something that was unusual in her neighborhood. So were the tinted windows making it difficult to tell if someone were inside.
Mentally shaking herself for now being suspicious of everything that was happening, she put the glasses on the table, determined to resume her normal life and believe there was nothing sinister about the car parked up the street.
Glancing out the window once more despite her convictions not to, she noticed the car moving towards her house. Her determination to remain calm evaporated as the large, dark vehicle drove slowly by - too slowly, even for her neighborhood.
The tinted windows still prevented her from seeing the driver but as it turned to negotiate the bend in the road she glimpsed part of the license plate. It wasn’t much but it was a start. She wrote it down quickly before it slipped from her frantic mind.
“What are you looking at mom?” Jacob’s voice jolted her.
“Oh, nothing, honey. I just thought I saw something that was out of place.”
“Whadda you mean out of place?”
“I mean something that doesn’t belong.” Before he could ask more questions, she turned and directed him towards the kitchen table where the freshly-made sandwiches waited. Joey soon followed bounding towards his brother and his ow
n place at the table.
Watching as they ate she steeled herself against the thought that something bad would ever happen to them or her. After she settled them into their homework routine she would call Detective Morris and ask him what to do.
What she really wanted to do was turn back the hands of time, take Owen away and not let any of this terribleness happen. She felt numb - completely numb. This shouldn’t be happening to her. She was a nobody -- an easy going person who just wanted to live her life. Suddenly, she had to contend with mysterious people and doubting, suspicious cops coming in and out of it.
The twins finished the last sip of their milk and Joey started to rub his eyes. They were too old for naps, or so they told her, but maybe one was called for today. Homework could wait.
“How would you two like to lie down for just a little while to recharge your batteries before doing your homework?”
“We don’t have batteries, mom!” That would be Jacob, first-to-respond Jacob.
“Well you do if you pretend to be robots.” That got their attention.
“Robots! Cool! I want to be the blue robot.”
“And I wanna be the yellow robot.” Joey grabbed at her hand, making sure she heard him. Playing robots was one of their favorite pastimes when they were younger and excitement was not the response she was after.
“Just a minute you two. You can only be robots if you lie down and recharge your batteries. Otherwise it’s homework time.” Maggie’s stern look and raised eyebrow were met with disappointment. She breathed a sigh of relief for her quick thinking. It was something she’d learned to do with twin boys, especially when they had started walking.
“Okay,” Jacob’s tone was less than enthusiastic.
“Alright then, off with the two of you to your robot chambers and recharge your batteries.” She was careful not to call them beds for fear of renewed resistance as she gently guided them both upstairs, hoping that as soon as their heads hit their pillows they’d be out like totally uncharged robots.
“How am I supposed to lie down, mommy.” Joey was the only one who still called her mommy and she knew eventually he’d follow his brother’s lead and start calling her mom.
