To Love, Honor, and Perish

by Christy Barritt

  He nodded. “You can never be too careful.”

  I thanked him and hurried to my van. I climbed inside, locked my doors, and let silence absorb me for a moment.

  My life was spiraling out of my control, wasn’t it? Everything that had felt so certain now felt unstable. No matter how hard I tried to fix things, nothing seemed to be better.

  I wasn’t going to let that stop me in my quest for finding answers, though. Because finding answers was the only thing keeping me going right now.

  ***

  The next morning, I waited until I heard the door to Riley’s apartment open. I listened as footsteps plunked down the steps. I watched from my apartment window as his parents climbed into their SUV and drove away.

  Then I stepped into the hallway, unlocked Riley’s door, and slid inside his apartment. I paused in his living room and let my gaze wander the space. Funny how I’d been in here hundreds of times before, but right now I felt like a foreigner in a strange land.

  Riley’s parents’ things were everywhere. Mrs. Thomas had brought dainty teacups for her morning brew. The newspaper was spread over the dining room table. It smelled like someone else had been here too. The odor in the air wasn’t Riley’s leathery cologne. No, it smelled like roses and Old Spice and clogged up toilets.

  I pushed myself from the wall. I checked his bookshelves. I even checked his freezer and the toilet bowl basin. Nothing.

  Then I hurried toward Riley’s desk. I looked through the drawers there and inside books stacked on the shelf and underneath his Bible. Nothing.

  Quickly, I turned on his computer.

  Why did I feel guilty being here? Riley had given me a key to his place, in case I ever needed it. We were supposed to get married. Yet I felt like I shouldn’t be here, like I shouldn’t be looking through his stuff.

  Despite my misgivings, I searched his emails looking for something, anything, that would give me a clue as to what was going on in his life.

  My eyes stopped at one name. Juliette Barnes. My heart froze for a moment.

  My fingers trembled as I clicked on the email.

  My eyes could barely focus on the words, but finally the cloudiness cleared and the letters came into focus. “Thanks for lunch today. It was fun. I look forward to putting the past behind us and embracing the future. You’re an incredible man. Love, Juliette.”

  I leaned back, feeling like I’d been hit by a truck. So the man people had seen Juliette with had been Riley. He’d been seeing her, and he hadn’t mentioned it to me. Why would he do that?

  I’d given up a lot for Riley. I’d been fully prepared to turn down that stupid job in Kansas—if I’d gotten it—just to be with him. I hadn’t been working since he’d been shot, so I was going to run out of money. Those were sacrifices I was willing to make. But now I felt like I should have never trusted him.

  Maybe I should be ashamed of myself, but I just couldn’t bring myself to go visit him now. No, I feared that even in his comatose state he’d pick up on the bad vibes I was feeling. Maybe it would only delay his recovery.

  Instead, I was going to keep looking for the person who’d shot him.

  ***

  Just for the sake of being well balanced and fair, I decided to look at people other than Juliette Barnes. I needed to let her simmer for a while, and maybe then I would figure out a way to track her or make sense of how she and Riley were connected.

  Until then, I had to keep my eyes open for other possibilities.

  That’s why I was sitting in my van, wearing a baseball cap pulled low over my eyes. I was outside of GCI, waiting for an opportunity to talk to Todd Harrison. As much as I’d like to charge inside and ask the kind receptionist if I could speak to him, I didn’t want to press my luck.

  So, I sat there. I watched people come and go. I saw nothing and no one interesting. No Garrett. Not the trendy receptionist. No familiar faces.

  Until lunchtime. That’s when I saw Todd Harrison leave the office. By himself.

  He climbed into an expensive looking BMW and started down the road. I, of course, followed him. I had no idea where this would lead. But I was desperate for answers.

  He pulled to a stop in front of a diner located on the outskirts of an old working class neighborhood. Not exactly the hangout I’d imagined him frequenting.

  I quickly pulled behind him, put my van in park, and chased him down in the parking lot. I didn’t know who he was meeting inside, and I didn’t want to take any chances that more members of his crime family would be there.

  “Excuse me!”

  The man slowed his gait. He was tall—really tall—and thin. He had light brown hair and spiked bangs. His face was perfectly balanced and portioned. He wore faded khakis and a well-worn plaid shirt. His leather shoes were scuffed and he had a man purse strapped over his chest.

  If I hadn’t known he came from a rich family and if I hadn’t seen his BMW, I wouldn’t have guessed that he was loaded.

  He scrunched his eyebrows together as he glanced back at me. “Can I help you?” He looked behind me, as if afraid I was a woman with a nefarious plan.

  I jogged to reach him, not wanting this moment to slip by. “I’m hoping you can help me.”

  He continued to look behind me. Being in a family full of smart criminals had probably taught him that. “Did you follow me here?”

  I nodded, hoping honesty would prove to be the best policy. “I did.”

  His eyes held a mix of confusion and wariness. “I’m sorry. I don’t have much time.”

  “Please. I’m desperate.” I almost reached out to grab him, but I stopped myself.

  His gaze did another scan. “Who sent you here?”

  “Sent me here? No one. Just me.” I paused, wondering how much he knew about my involvement in his past. “Do you know who I am?”

  Finally, his eyes met mine. “Should I?”

  Would it work to my advantage to remind him that I’d put away members of his family? I doubted it. I’d wait on sharing that information. “I’m investigating a friend of mine who was shot.”

  His stance loosened for a moment. “I don’t know how I can help you with that.”

  “Does the name Riley Thomas ring any bells with you?” I watched his expression carefully.

  He shook his head. “No, none. Why?”

  I stared another moment. He gave no indication that he was lying. He looked relatively relaxed, had good eye contact, and didn’t flinch at my fiancé’s name. I needed a new approach. “It’s like this. How do you feel about the people who helped put members of your family behind bars?”

  “I applaud them.”

  I blinked. That was not the answer I’d expected. “Say again?”

  “You heard me right. I applaud them. What my family was doing was completely unethical.”

  “I can only imagine what Thanksgiving is like around your place.”

  His jaw flexed. “I’ve disavowed myself of my family. I’m my own person. I don’t have their money. I don’t want it.”

  “Just their cars?” I nodded toward his.

  “That was a gift to me. I’m okay with keeping it. But that’s as far as it goes. I’ve made my own way. I don’t even like people to know I’m related to those Harrisons, truth be told.”

  He glanced behind me once more. He wasn’t really a trusting guy, was he? I guess I wouldn’t be either if I’d turned my back on my family, and my family just happened to not give a second thought to murdering people who got in their way.

  “What’s all this about?”

  I decided to come clean with him. “I helped bring down your family, and now someone has shot my fiancé.”

  “And you’re wondering if I did it?”

  “That’s right.” Why lie?

  “Look, I’m sorry about your fiancé. But, even before that whole showdown between the feds and my family a few months ago, I was done with them. As far as I’m concerned, you did us all a favor.”

  “Do you think there’s so
meone in your family who might have pulled the trigger?”

  He shook his head. “Honestly, if they wanted revenge, they’d come after you, not your fiancé.”

  I considered what he said for a moment before nodding. His words made sense. The Harrison mafia wasn’t the type to beat around the bush or play games. They would have come right for me. “Thanks for your time.”

  And with that, I let the man enjoy the remaining fifteen minutes of his lunch break.

  ***

  “You’re Riley’s fiancée, correct?”

  I looked up from Riley’s bedside and spotted the doctor standing at the entrance to Riley’s room.

  I’d changed my mind and decided to swing by the hospital after all. I couldn’t live with myself if I wasn’t there for Riley now, despite whatever secrets he might have been keeping. So, here I sat, my mind loaded with questions and doubts and fear.

  Dr. Grayson, a name that fit the gray haired man, waited for me to say something.

  I stood and rubbed my hands against my jeans. “Yes, I’m Gabby.”

  The doctor moved toward Riley and checked a machine by his bedside. He typed in some notes on an electronic tablet, looking down the end of his nose at his bifocals.

  “Riley’s parents said I shouldn’t have hope,” I blurted. “Do you agree?”

  He paused, pushed his glasses up, and sat down across from me. The doctor could handle the hard questions. I knew that. I just wasn’t sure I could handle his answers.

  “It’s very difficult to know what to do in these situations,” he started. “There are people with brain injuries who make a full recovery. Then there are others who are never the same. Two people with the same injury could have two totally different recoveries.”

  “The majority of the time, what happens?”

  The doctor pressed his lips together, calm and professional. I could only imagine the strain of conversations like this on him. I hoped he could understand my strain as well.

  “The majority of the time, people don’t make it,” he said. “But Riley has already come a long way. He’s responding well to the tests we do on him. The pressure in his brain is still dangerous, but it’s low enough that we have hope.”

  My heart lifted but only for a moment. “How much longer will you leave him in this coma?”

  “I’d like to see the swelling go down some more first. I’m afraid I can’t give you a deadline. There are numerous factors we have to pay attention to. ”

  “When you stop giving him the medicine to keep him in this state, will he wake right up? Could he still be vegetative? What should I expect?”

  He pressed his lips together in a tight line, but his voice remained even and reasoned. “Brain injuries are unpredictable, Gabby. I know you want answers and that you don’t want to hear, ‘Wait and see.’ Sometimes, that’s all we can do, though. The CT imaging shows us that the brain bleeding is healing right on schedule. Now we just hope for the best.”

  “He’s in no state to be moved right now, though. Right? That would be dangerous. He’s much better off here.”

  The doctor looked down at the tablet in his hands quickly before nodding slowly. “I understand his parents would like to move him closer to their home.”

  “They want some quack doctor to do experimental treatments on him.” I practically spit the words out. Voicing the words aloud made me feel sick to my stomach. How had things gotten this crazy?

  The doctor pushed his glasses up on his nose and said nothing for a minute. “The next of kin is the one to call these shots, or the person with Power of Attorney. Unfortunately, that can make medical situations like this even more difficult, especially when there’s a disagreement.”

  “I feel like I should have some say in this.”

  He grimaced again. “I know this is hard, Gabby. I wish I had an easy solution for you. The hospital up in D.C. is a good one, and I know he’ll be in good hands.”

  I wasn’t ready to let it go at that. I softened my voice, though, trying to remain respectful. “What would you do if this was your loved one, doctor? His parents want to use the services of some Dr. Moreno. The man has had limited good results, but nothing is proven. And for every good result, I fear there’s been several more devastating ones.”

  He released his breath to such an extent that I wondered if he was buying time. “I’m more comfortable with the tried and true. However, I haven’t done any research on this doctor they’d like for Riley to see. I’m afraid I can’t give much of an opinion. I can only treat Riley while he’s here under my care.”

  “Is there anything I can do to stop this?” I hated feeling helpless. I wasn’t good at it. Maybe I was too much of a fighter for my own good.

  “You can hire a lawyer, Gabby. That might slow the process down.” He pulled his lips into a thin line again. “We just want to do what’s best for our patient. The good news is that, if they move him, the hospital they’re looking at has one of the best programs for brain injury in the country.”

  I wanted to sneer at his advice. But I didn’t. Instead, I patted Riley’s hand and grabbed my purse. My time was up. “Thank you for the chat.”

  The doctor nodded goodbye.

  Now I had to face Riley’s parents again. What would our confrontation hold this time? I didn’t want to find out. But there was only one approved exit from this unit and, on the other side of that exit was the waiting room. It was kind of hard to avoid them.

  I hesitated a moment before pushing the door open. When I stepped into the dimly lit room, my steps faltered. I saw Riley’s dad sitting in a chair. His head was bowed and his shoulders hunched as if in pain. I couldn’t see his face.

  Nor did I see Mrs. Thomas.

  An unknown emotion began hovering around me, tinged in shades of black and gray. What was going on?

  Part of me wanted to slip past without Mr. Thomas seeing me. With his head lowered, I might be able to escape without notice. I couldn’t do that, though. I knew that something was wrong—even more wrong than usual.

  “Mr. Thomas?”

  He raised his head. His eyes were filled with tears. They were red, blood shot, and haggard.

  I’d never seen the even-keeled man look like this before, not even after he got the news about Riley. And where was Mrs. Thomas? In the bathroom? Not feeling well? Maybe she’d returned to D.C . for the day to take care of some business.

  “Gabby,” he started. His voice cracked when he said my name.

  “What’s wrong?” The worst-case scenarios that rushed through my mind were like tornadoes that destroyed everything in their paths.

  He let out a soft moan. “It’s Evelyn. She . . . she had a heart attack at the hospital last night. She’s in critical condition.”

  “What?” My own heart felt like it stopped beating for a moment. Had I just heard him correctly?

  He nodded. “All the stress . . . it was too much on her. Her blood pressure was through the roof. The doctor said he was surprised the heart attack didn’t kill her outright.”

  “Oh, Mr. Thomas. I’m so sorry.” Guilt pounded at me, rapidly and full of high-stakes pressure. I knew we were on different sides of the fence concerning Riley’s future, but I would have never wished this on anyone. Especially not them.

  I pushed aside any other thoughts and pulled Mr. Thomas into a hug. He held me tighter than I expected for longer than I expected. I waited until he was ready to let go.

  When he stepped back, I kept my hand on his arm and squeezed it. “What can I do?”

  “Just pray, Gabby.” If the eyes were windows to the soul, then Mr. Thomas’ soul was devastated right now. The hurt I saw in the depths of his gaze were enough to send a jolt of heartbreak through me.

  “I will,” I whispered.

  “Praying is all any of us can do at this point.”

  ***

  My thoughts turned over and over on the way home. A heart attack. I couldn’t believe it.

  Poor Mr. Thomas. Dealing with a son and wi
fe being in the hospital was more than I could imagine. I wished I could somehow help, that I could make things better. But maybe the best thing was for me to stay away.

  I didn’t know.

  As soon as I arrived back at my apartment, Sierra met me at the door. “You’re back!”

  I couldn’t even bring myself to smile. My heart felt heavy and burdened as I remembered my conversation with Mr. Thomas. “Yep. I’m here.”

  “Let’s go over to The Grounds for a minute.” The Grounds was a coffeehouse and one of my favorite hangouts. But even the thought of going there couldn’t cheer me up at the moment.

  I raised my hands to say “no.” “I’m not really in the mood. It’s been a rotten day. Even more rotten than some of the other bad ones I’ve had.”

  “I know that life has been treating you awful lately, but . . .” She tilted her head. “Just for a minute? Please.”

  I’d never known Sierra to beg for anything. I glanced across the street and figured a cup of coffee and some time with my best friend could be just the medicine I needed right now. “Just for a minute,” I finally conceded.

  I didn’t even bother to bring up anything that had happened in the short walk from our apartments to the coffeehouse. No, the discussion was too heavy for such a short jaunt. I needed a walkathon to get everything out.

  As soon as I walked into The Grounds, people jumped out from every corner and shadow and yelled, “Surprise!”

  I stepped back and gawked at everyone for a moment.

  This wasn’t coffee with my best friend. No, this was a full-fledged social gathering. I wanted to run, to escape, to not be here. As kind as the sentiment was, I wasn’t sure if I could fake my way through this.

  But Sierra’s hand was on my back, and, for a petite little Asian girl, she had an iron grip that wouldn’t let me go.

  “Happy birthday, Gabby!” Sierra exclaimed.

  I blinked and stared at my best friend’s smiling face. My birthday. Was that really today?

  It took me a moment to concede that it actually was. I felt like I was 28 going on 78.