Blind Faith

by Sharon Sala

  He read it and frowned. Damn woman. She was going to make him get back in the swing of things. If he left her on her own and Cyrus Parks tried something new, then he would have to live with the guilt of not being there to help. But going back meant peopling again. And putting up with her bossy ways.

  He took another bite and chewed, thinking of the plus side.

  Sugar-glazed bear claws.

  Her coffee was better than his.

  And he didn’t have to take a case that he didn’t have a feel for.

  So, instead of telling her what he was going to do, he just sent her a thumbs-up emoji and went back to his tacos and the game.

  No way would he ever leave her on her own. He could never do enough to repay her for how it felt when he’d walked out of Morning Light the morning Annie died and seen her leaning against his Jeep. She gave backup a whole new meaning.

  * * *

  Wyrick set the alarm for thirty minutes earlier than usual to go get Merlin his tomatoes, so when it went off the next morning, she sat straight up in bed, wondering why the hell she was awake before daylight.

  “Oh. Tomatoes,” she muttered, and jumped out of bed.

  A few minutes later she was running across the grounds toward the greenhouse with a little plastic bowl, her tennis shoes untied and her bathrobe belted against the cold.

  “Crap on a stick, but it’s cold,” she muttered, as she reached the greenhouse and then slipped inside.

  The grow lights cast shadows that weren’t obvious in daylight, shadows that took on the shapes of skeletal arms and legs. Shadows with no heads and only bodies. Basically, creepy as hell.

  “Okay...tomatoes, tomatoes, tomatoes,” she said, and headed for the back.

  It didn’t take long to fill the box with the tiny cherry-red globes, and as soon as she was finished, she headed for the door. It was an eye-opening experience for Wyrick to find out she could be spooked like this, and by the time she left the greenhouse, she was running.

  She took the tomatoes up to the kitchen and left them on the counter, then went back down to get ready for work. She hadn’t been to the office in days and days, and felt like making a statement.

  After a quick scan of her closet, she chose glitter-gold lamé pants, a red V-neck sweater and a white leather blazer. Her white leather half boots had gold metal tips and taps on the heels. An attention getter she didn’t really need. No matter what she was wearing, wherever she went, she was noticed. On anyone else, adding glitter-gold eye shadow and fire-engine-red lipstick would have been overkill, but on Wyrick, it worked.

  She already had everything bagged up and ready to take back to the office. All she had to do was stop on the way and get bear claws. Just in case.

  * * *

  Charlie got up with the sun and turned up the thermostat on his way to make coffee, then headed for the bathroom to shower and shave.

  It felt like a normal day as he got dressed. And when he settled his Stetson on his head as he headed out the door, he was ready for Wyrick and whatever else the day might bring. The traffic that usually pissed him off just made the day feel normal, and he needed that.

  When he got to the office and pressed the button in the elevator to go to the office, his pulse amped up just a little, like it always did before he used to go out on patrol. Maybe this was a sign that he was ready for this after all.

  He smelled coffee in the hall outside the door and sighed—his home away from home—then walked in.

  Wyrick didn’t bother to look up, and as usual, her fingers were flying over the keyboard.

  “Cinnamon roast coffee. Bear claws. Messages on your desk.”

  “Good morning to you, too,” he said.

  “Don’t push it,” she muttered.

  He sighed. Yes...he could do this shit.

  He walked past her desk, grabbed a cup of coffee and a bear claw in the coffee bar and then put them on his desk, before hanging up his hat and coat.

  Wyrick closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Charlie Dodge is back. Today, she would ask for nothing more, and went back to sorting through emails.

  A half cup of coffee and a bear claw in his belly later, he began going through the messages, and the day began.

  * * *

  Cyrus Parks had given the phrase lying low a whole new meaning. He took a brief leave of absence from his office in Richmond, but only after he had convinced his associates that the big charity donation in his name had been done by the same hackers who’d recently drained his personal bank accounts.

  That satisfied them, but Cyrus was far from satisfied. He had a job to finish, and needed time and information. He realized now that his big mistake had been just assigning one man to follow her. One man to harass her. One man to take her out.

  What he needed was a tag team to trace her every step until he found the weak spot in her routine. That would be the opportunity he needed to end her existence for good.

  One week later

  It was just after 2:00 p.m. when Wyrick got a text from Ora and wasted no time in responding.

  If you want to say goodbye to Merlin, come home.

  On my way.

  Even as she was getting up from her desk to tell Charlie she was leaving, there was a knot in her stomach.

  Charlie looked up when she walked into his office, and knew immediately something was wrong.

  “I have to go home. Merlin is dying.”

  He stood. “Do you need me?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

  “We’re good here,” Charlie said. “Go do what you have to do, but if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

  She turned on one heel, went back to shut down her computer, and within a couple of minutes, she was out the door.

  Charlie got up and went to the window, watching for her to leave the building.

  She came out running.

  His stomach turned. He knew that frantic, won’t-get-there-in-time feeling. He watched her take off out of the parking lot like the world was on fire and she was trying to outrun the blaze, then said a prayer for her safety, and another prayer for anyone who might get in her way.

  * * *

  For Wyrick, the drive home was a blur. When she got back to her apartment, she tore off her leather and put on jeans and a sweatshirt, then washed the mask of makeup from her face, scrubbing frantically to remove everything that wasn’t her.

  She tore up the stairs with the water still drying on her skin, then emerged into the kitchen and ran.

  Ora was at Merlin’s side when Wyrick appeared. She got up to give Wyrick her seat.

  “He’s been holding on...waiting for you. I notified his doctor. He’s not in pain,” Ora said.

  Wyrick pushed the chair aside and reached for Merlin’s hand. It was cold and nearly lifeless, only a slight twitch of his fingers as she held them.

  “Merlin. I’m here.”

  His eyelids fluttered and then opened enough to see her. His lips moved, but no sound came out. She thought he said Thank you, but she wasn’t sure.

  “No, thank you, Merlin—for being my friend, for giving me a safe place to be, for having my back. You honored me in a way no one ever had before, you crazy man. You with your searchlights on the roof, and your wizard mind, and your hothouse tomatoes.” Her voice broke. “I love you, and I will treasure what you have given me for the rest of my life.”

  He squeezed her fingers as he took a deep breath, gathering everything within him to utter his last earthly words.

  “Give ’em hell, Jade. Make me proud.”

  “I will,” she promised, and then stood witness as life left him in one last exhalation.

  Ora stepped up beside Wyrick and reached for his wrist, holding it, feeling for a pulse.

  Wyrick was motionless...waiting. A minute passed,
but he never took another breath.

  Ora checked for a heartbeat with her stethoscope, then looked up at the clock.

  “Time of death, 3:18 p.m.”

  Arthur Merlin was gone.

  “What do I do?” Wyrick asked.

  “The immediate things are my responsibility,” Ora said. “I’ll call his doctor, and I will notify the funeral home. Once his body leaves the premises, my business here is done. You might want to notify his lawyer.”

  “Yes, I’ll call Rodney,” she said, but when Ora turned away to make the calls, Wyrick smoothed the wisps of what was left of his hair away from his face. “Go do you, magic man. I’ve got this.”

  She went back to the living room, then stood in the doorway looking at all of the old elegance, remembering the first time they’d met.

  That one online notice of a group meeting on a Mensa site right after she first moved to Dallas. Cyrus Parks had taken pride in the fact that she’d had a perfect score in every IQ test she’d ever been given, including the tests to belong to Mensa. Before, it had never mattered to her like it had to him. It was just who she was. But back then, after UT, she was looking for a connection to something...or someone...to fill the void of what had happened to her, and she thought maybe being around people like her would be the answer.

  She arrived at the meeting, thin and bald, with a scarf tied around her head, and a tall, thin man with long white hair and a long white beard welcomed her into the grand mansion with a smile and a cup of tea.

  It was winter then, and she sat in the big overstuffed chair beside the fireplace, drinking her tea and listening, and knew within minutes that while they were nice enough and accepted her, they weren’t like her. She was still the exception. She was always going to be the odd one out.

  But back then she didn’t care. She just wanted human companionship and was just getting settled into the routine when Cyrus Parks found her again. After that, she separated herself from the group. She didn’t want Parks to know her routine, and she didn’t want to think about any of them becoming caught up in his web.

  Then she found Charlie Dodge and the work that came with him, and a year passed, and then another, and Parks was always on her tail, and she was always moving from one address to another.

  When Parks began pushing her boundaries even more, she remembered Merlin, and the basement apartment, and once again, his place became her refuge—the one place where the security was better than the men Parks put on her tail.

  And now, because of Merlin, it was hers.

  She walked across the room to that same overstuffed chair and sat down beside the fireplace. It needed a fire. She pulled up the lawyer’s phone number and made the call.

  “Gordon Law Firm.”

  “I’m calling on behalf of Arthur Merlin. May I please speak to Mr. Gordon?”

  “One moment, please,” the secretary said, and put her on hold.

  Wyrick leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, waiting.

  “Hello? Wyrick, is this you?”

  “Yes. Merlin died a few minutes ago. I’m supposed to let you know.”

  “Oh dear...bless his heart and yours. I’m so sorry. I’ll get the ball rolling on my end, but in the meantime, is there anything I can do for you?”

  “No, but thank you. As you know, he didn’t want an obituary posted or a memorial service. I will claim his ashes at a later date, and scatter them according to his wishes.”

  “Yes, and thank you for calling,” Rodney said. “If you don’t already have your own lawyer, I’ll be happy to stay on as yours when the transfer of property goes into your name.”

  “Thank you,” Wyrick said. “In the meantime, let me know if there’s anything I need to do.”

  “Yes, I will...and again, my condolences,” he said, and hung up.

  Wyrick laid the phone aside and thought about going to make coffee. Instead, she turned on the gas starter in the fireplace and lit the kindling beneath the logs. Flames flared, licking the logs above them, and soon there was a fire.

  She sat in silence, staring out the window, watching for Merlin’s ride out, and thought about her life, wondering how it would end.

  She wouldn’t ever marry.

  She couldn’t have children.

  Likely, she would wind up like Merlin one day—old, alone and rich as sin. But as long as Charlie Dodge outlived her, she wouldn’t ask for anything more.

  An hour passed, and it was moving toward the end of the second hour when a long black hearse appeared at the gates and then came up the drive.

  They were here.

  She sent Ora a quick text to let her know, then waited. She wouldn’t ever want the job of collecting the dead, even though she accepted that someone had to do it, but watched as they got out with the gurney, rolling it toward the house and up the steps.

  The doorbell signaling their arrival tolled throughout the mansion as Wyrick got up to let them in. One of the men introduced himself, and the funeral home for which he worked, but it all went over Wyrick’s head.

  “This way,” she said, and led them through the foyer, then down the grand hall to Merlin’s room, where Ora was standing at the door to oversee Merlin’s exit.

  Wyrick watched them lifting him from the bed onto the gurney, then covering him from head to toe before fastening the straps across his body. When they were finished, the same man nodded at Wyrick and gave her his card.

  “Our condolences for your loss. We will be in touch.”

  Wyrick led the way back to the door, silently held it open as they rolled him out, then watched as they carried him down the steps to the hearse.

  A few minutes later, Ora came up the hall with her bag over her shoulder.

  “My work here is finished. You may get a survey from the company later, but I just want you to know that, in spite of the sadness of our meeting, it has been a true pleasure to get to know you. I understand why Merlin was so fond of you. You are genuine, which is a rarity in this world.”

  “Thank you, and thank you for all you did for him,” Wyrick said. “You have a kind and gentle spirit...a good fit for your calling.”

  Ora smiled.

  “I’ll see myself out. Have a good life here, and make this place your home now. He said you’ll do wonders with it.”

  Wyrick felt a spurt of joy. “He did?”

  “Oh yes. He talked often about what you might do with it. I suspect he’ll be looking over your shoulder now just to see what magic you create.”

  Wyrick liked the thought of that.

  “Then I guess I’ll have to wow him,” she said.

  Ora left, and now Wyrick was alone. She’d only ever been in a few rooms in this place, and now it belonged to her. In a day or two, she’d take a tour, but right now she just wanted to go back downstairs to what was familiar.

  Fifteen

  It was almost sundown when Wyrick went back upstairs to make sure the security system was set, then turned on a couple of lights in different rooms so that the mansion did not look empty.

  She locked the doors to the stairs after she went down, and then locked herself in below. Before, she’d known Merlin was upstairs, and now there was no one on the whole estate but her. It was a disconcerting feeling she was going to have to conquer.

  She turned on the television for company, then puttered around in the kitchen, dragging out cartons of leftovers until she settled on what was left of Chinese takeout and reheated it.

  As was her habit, she ate in front of the TV in the living room and thought about calling Charlie just to hear his voice, but she didn’t, because that wasn’t their relationship.

  No matter how much their lives had changed in the past month, with Annie’s death, Boyington’s murder and cancer finally claiming Merlin, that part of their lives was still the same. Keeping him at arm’s length and pissed off at
her was how she rolled.

  * * *

  Charlie thought about Wyrick all evening, wondering what was happening, wondering if the old man was still alive. He didn’t know anything about their relationship other than he was her landlord, and someone she’d known for a while. But he knew from the reaction she’d had today that she cared about him.

  He thought about texting to check on her, then thought better of it and let her be. But if he’d known she was alone on that estate with Cyrus Parks still lurking in her life, he wouldn’t have been as certain she was okay.

  * * *

  Wyrick slept with a handgun under her pillow and a can of Mace on the table by her bed, then woke up before 4:00 a.m. and couldn’t go back to sleep.

  The house above her was an unknown, sitting like a weight upon her shoulders, and it pissed her off beyond words that Cyrus Parks had taken away even an iota of her confidence.

  Then, just to prove to herself that Cyrus could kiss her ass, she got up and started turning on lights and turned up the thermostat, then stomped up the stairs.

  “I’m not hiding from shit,” she muttered, as she strode through the main floor of the house, turning on lights as she went. “I’m here, house! Merlin gave you to me, so don’t go freaking out at my long legs and bald head. I’m not afraid of you, so don’t go freakin’ out on me, okay?”

  She got all the way to Merlin’s bedroom, then stopped. The door was closed, and there was a part of her that didn’t want to go in, but she wasn’t harboring ghosts, no matter how charming, and pushed it open.

  The huge sleigh bed had been stripped, but everything else was in place. She took a deep breath and then entered.

  “I’m here...just like I promised. I’ll give your girl a new lease on life and make new memories here, okay? And in the meantime, I need to feel safe. So no surprises.”

  After that, the rest of the tour was anticlimactic.