by F P Adriani
Jamie finally came back up to me. “She said she’ll take care of my mom. …But how can she? My mom’s here and you-know-who isn’t.” His eyes had a worried little droop to them. “…You think I’m making a mistake?”
“I don’t know, Jamie. I just don’t. Like I said, you can come if you want, but it’s your decision to make.”
*
I didn’t buy the tickets until an hour before the shuttle’s arrival. I couldn’t risk that someone would do a shuttle-flight search and then later meet us here with a lethal little surprise.
Somehow, someone had found me on Hera. There were many possibilities as to how. Maybe somewhere along the way, someone had recognized me; or maybe someone on Diamond told them I’d be here. Maybe from the get-go they’d known and had been waiting to make their move. Or maybe Millie had been followed. Or, specifically, I could have been recognized from when my whole damn wig fell off my head as I was running through TNI. Or maybe John had been acting on his own—that was possible.
Whatever the case, however they’d done it, the fact was that they’d finally found me. And, now, I was directly on their radar. Now, I wouldn’t be safe in the slightest.
*
It wasn’t too long before we were waiting on the baggage line, with Jamie’s slim form bent under the weight of the enormous knapsack on his back.
When he finally dumped it onto the baggage car for the shuttle, he told me, “I often have to travel around from city-to-city, wherever the work is at any moment. No point in living anywhere permanent.” He pulled a face then, maybe because he should have described his habits in the past-tense. Now, he raised his head to me. “Where am I supposed to be staying on Diamond?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet.”
*
Thankfully, we made it onto the shuttle in perfect health, and the trip home went faster than I’d expected. Jamie fell asleep first and slept for most of the way. I fell asleep not long after him, but I had difficulty remaining asleep. The past week dragged behind my mind, looking like a giant confusing blur.
I did not know much more than what I knew when I’d left Diamond. And now I was probably in even more personal danger. Maybe everyone had been correct: why the hell had I gone to Hera? That had been an insane move….
About two hours before we were due in, I sent an air-message to my office’s message-service, asking if someone could get Tan to meet me at the station. I wanted to close the circle; because he’d seen me off, I wanted him to see me in.
However, that scenario just wasn’t been meant to be: Roberto showed up at the shuttle-port instead. And as he moved toward me, I noticed the horrified guilt-ridden twist to his face.
My blood stilled in my veins and my skin instantly went cold. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
My right hand shot toward him and he grabbed it, crushing it in his big fingers.
“Boss, we’ve been trying to reach you. Something’s happened at the Castano house. It’s all my fault because I wasn’t there!”
Now everything spilled out of Roberto, not in an entirely intelligible way, but the gist of it was: the housekeeper Libby had been shot dead, Darla had been badly shot in the shoulder—and Julianne had been pushed down the steps.
“She’s in the hospital unconscious—and they don’t know if she’ll wake up!” Roberto finally shouted.
At first I was numb. I couldn’t think or feel.
Then I asked automatically: “When—when did this happen?”
“Late last night. Nell and me and Mike have been sending you messages to call us back all day—we didn’t know what the hell happened to you either when you didn’t respond! Nell hasn’t told Tan about anything—she’s afraid to!”
I didn’t respond at first. The attack on Julianne happened after my TNI trek. Had the attack been all my fault? Had I unknowingly set in motion this violent spree against the Castano house?
When I spoke, my voice was low. I barely felt the words leave my lips. “We were attacked in the hotel room. We had to leave. I had no time to check for anymore messages.”
Now Jamie said in a shaky voice, “Pia, what’s going on? This doesn’t sound good. I’m Jamie.” He reached forward and shook Roberto’s other hand, the one I wasn’t holding.
Roberto nodded at him, said, “Roberto.” Then to me: “Boss, what do we do?”
“Right now, we’ve got to get the rest of our bags.”
*
Soon after, we were in Roberto’s car, heading to my hotel. For a while, I was totally silent while Roberto nervously and repeatedly chattered on about the night before, about how he shouldn’t have taken Lori Godwin over to her brother’s place, and then they shouldn’t have stopped to have tea at that other place….
But I had no psychological energy left to assuage his guilt. I was too busy dealing with my own: I should have been here. Not on Hera chasing that other shit. I’d been hired partly to protect Julianne. Now look what happened?
My fingertips painfully dug into my palms. I had to keep my head together. “Roberto,” I finally said, “Jamie needs somewhere to stay.”
Roberto’s eyes shifted over to me. “So?”
“Can you put him up in your house for a bit?”
Now his eyes shifted to the rearview mirror, where Jamie waved at him and flashed him a nervous toothy smile.
“Who the hell is he?” said Roberto in a lower voice, as if Jamie couldn’t hear him then from the back when I was sure he could.
“A friend,” I finally said.
*
Roberto dropped me off at my hotel: it was too late for me to go to the hospital because it was past visiting hours. And I was in no condition to go even if it wasn’t too late.
My feet dragged as I carried my most important case up to my room and the hotel porter carried my other cases.
I’d told Roberto to call Nell and tell her that, definitely, no one should ever be alone in the office from now on, and also that she should tell Tan that I was back and that I’d talk to him first thing in the morning. I couldn’t face any of them right now. My heart felt like it would sink from my chest down into my knees; I could barely walk around my room without shaking and having to reach for something to steady me. That I hadn’t eaten enough over the past two days didn’t help matters.
Nevertheless, my shaking self still had a few things to do to secure my room, just in case someone wanted to take another shot at me.
Once I’d done that securing, I went to sleep. Or at least I tried to sleep. But both my nervousness over my precarious state and the events that had been set into motion—they both fired through my brain, keeping my mind awake. I wanted to shout and cry.
When the helpless were harmed, when the young and naïve were harmed, when the other species were harmed—I couldn’t think of anything worse. I had not always behaved as the most upstanding person, but I’d still always drawn some lines—and those lines were at children and other animals. I didn’t have to worry about the latter here on Diamond because humans were the only animals here. But that still meant I had to worry about the former.
Whoever had been behind the Castano killing apparently didn’t have any standards there—though it was true that Julianne hadn’t been killed. But she’d still been roughed up. And I had no doubt about why.
*
Apparently, both Roberto and Nell had done what I’d asked: Tan showed up early in the morning. Luckily, I had already showered and tried to fix my too-knotted hair and too-pale face into something resembling neat. I was almost successful there.
As soon as I let Tan into my room, he grabbed me and held me for a wonderful moment, during which my hands frantically grasped at his waist, his shoulders, his anything, as my nose breathed in the warm familiar scent of him.
Then suddenly, he pulled back, flashing me a furious look. “Why the fuck haven’t I heard from you all week? You have any idea what’s happened now? Today Nell said Julianne was attacked—someone’s died! The housekeeper!”
“I know. I know,” I repeated, moving around my room unpacking now, wanting to keep busy so I could avoid the dark daggers his eyes flashed at me.
But he wouldn’t be deterred. “Pia, are you in danger too?”
I didn’t respond. I wasn’t about to enlighten him further there.
But, apparently, he didn’t need my response. “Goddammit,” he said, running shaking fingers through his hair, his mouth a flat line across his pale face. “Who’s this other guy?”
“What?” I said vaguely. My mind had wandered to Julianne again. Visiting hours would start in two hours….
“I asked Nell if you were staying with anyone when she left, but she wouldn’t tell me. Now I hear you were there with some young guy!”
“What?” I said. “What?” still sounding parrot-like. “Don’t start this now, Tan. Please. We’ll talk about it later tonight. I must get my…head together now. I’ve got to go see a girl in a hospital and I don’t want to see this. It isn’t easy for me.”
“I’m—Pia, I’m really sorry,” Tan said then. And he tried to reach for me, but I was already moving across the room toward the bathroom.
*
When I came back out later, he was pacing my room. But now his right hand closed around my left one and he gave mine a little tug. “Look, I’ve got to go to work now, but you can’t stay here anymore. My home’s got a security system—please come stay with me. Starting tonight. No more of this separate shit. At least not now.”
I stared at him, he stared at me. He probably expected the usual argument from me. But I’d have to disappoint him there this time.
“Okay,” I finally said, slowly nodding.
*
I drove to the hospital, and shortly after I got there, I ran into Lori Godwin in one of the hallways. Her face truly looked the ashen color of worry, and her beige blouse had been buttoned all wrong. A gaping hole revealed part of her boob and bra; the misshapen top also revealed too much of her abnormally red neck.
Telling her to check her appearance in the bathroom was on the tip of my tongue, but before I could say anything, she cried through her tears, “The hospital called me and said she woke up this morning!”
*
We both rushed in the direction of Julianne’s room. “Has she said anything?” I asked Lori. “Has Darla, do you know?” I’d had no chance to talk to her yet, but I’d asked the nurse’s station for Darla’s status after her surgery.
Lori shook her head. “I have no idea—ask the police….”
That was something I soooo didn’t want to do….
Lori continued, “…a Detective Burroughs was in charge at the house….”
…Fucking wonderful….
“He might be here now for all I know. He asked lots of questions.”
“About?”
Her eyes flashed at me but she only shrugged. “I didn’t tell him much. I didn’t have much to tell. Only that I stupidly shouldn’t have left her alone in the house.” She began crying again.
But my hand on her arm pulled her to a stop. “You can’t be with her twenty-four hours a day. And you weren’t charged with guarding her. I was. Think how I feel.”
Lori opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything further, I rushed away from her and down the hallway.
*
I found a bathroom, pressed my shaking hands to the cold sink’s edge there, suddenly desperately wishing for one of those fucking Supershots.
I didn’t look up at my face in the mirror. I didn’t want to see the pain and disappointment there. I’d gotten the cops off my ass over the Millie shit; now the same fucking cops would no doubt be on my ass yet again.
Since the get-go of this whole mess, I’d taken one step forward and two steps back. Maybe since the get-go of my whole damn life. It seemed I’d never moved forward much. Persistently Spinning Her Wheels Pia.
How much more of this non-motion life could I fucking take?
For now, I did take some deep breaths, which made me feel better enough so that I could finally face Julianne’s bad state without getting into a bad state myself.
Lori was inside the room when I reached there, but, thankfully, no cops were. There was, however, a cop guarding outside Julianne’s room, which was great for her, but not so great for me.
I had to show a picture ID.
The cop’s eyes lingered on me a little longer than I cared for. “You need to talk with Detective Burroughs,” the cop said then.
I nodded as I said a soft, “I know.”
*
Inside the room, Lori was half-lying on the bed while hugging Julianne. Lori was weeping, but Julianne’s face against the pillow was dry. And her eyes stared over Lori’s shoulder, at me.
Her face was almost as white as the sheets. A bandage covered one side of her forehead, a bruise covered the opposite shoulder. Her wounded head and shoulders looked like small cast-off forgotten flesh bundles against the sheets. Gone was that too-mature girl. She now looked powerless, infantile.
A nurse stood off to the bed’s side and told Lori, “Be careful, Miss Godwin. She’s not even close to a hundred-percent.”
Lori pulled back. “Oh—oh, I’m sorry.” Her wet face flashed a look at both Julianne and the nurse. The nurse smiled, but Julianne didn’t do anything except continue to stare at me.
“I need…” she began in a soft, dry, energy-less voice, “I need to talk with Pia…alone.”
*
It took some time and verbal shenanigans on my part for both Julianne and I to convince everyone—especially the cop—that the door needed closing while we spoke. But they finally capitulated and we finally got at least some privacy. It wasn’t perfect. But we had no choice except to talk in here. She may have looked totally helpless now, but it seemed Julianne still had enough of a working and mature brain to remember the situation’s gravity might be beyond her own life.
“Pia…” she rasped at me, half-choking “…could you give me some of that cup o’ water?”
I rushed over to the far bedside table for the plastic cup; then I held the cup and straw out to her while she drank for a moment.
Then she said, “I wasn’t breathing right. The doctor had some plastic thing down my mouth. It hurt….”
“Don’t think about it,” I said, feeling a tight twisting around my heart. “Julianne, can you talk about last night?”
She gave the cup a little shake toward the table, so I laid it back on the top there. When she spoke again, I wasn’t entirely sure if everything she relayed had actually happened; I imagined some things got jumbled in her head. She herself seemed a bit unsure, but, at the same time, like she simply needed to get it all out there, whatever it was and however it came out….
“I don’t know…I was asleep. Heard something. Darla was in the bathroom downstairs maybe. Libby sometimes falls asleep on the couch in the kitchen, knits and watches TV. She doesn’t go home those nights. I wish she did.” A little cry slipped from her mouth, and she pressed the unwounded side of her face into her pillow, closing her eyes tight.
I grabbed her hand. “I’m very sorry about this, Julianne!”
Her fingers pressed at mine, but so lightly that I barely felt them. They were more like a twitch of acknowledgement. “I’m…okay, but she isn’t. Darla?”
“The nurse said she’ll be okay too, damaged but okay. I’m going to see her next.”
“Tell her I said hello and thanks. She fought with one of them—got shot then. So did…Libby when she ran out. Can’t remember if someone pushed me or I struggled and fell. The three people in masks—they asked me about…it, over and over—they—they punched me in the stomach, it hurts there….”
That tightening increased on my heart as my hand tightened slightly on hers, and my free hand made an even tighter fist.
Julianne continued, “You know…you know what you gotta do….”
“No, Julianne, no I don’t! Tell me. Can you?”
She talked no
w in that same raspy halting voice; her instructions weren’t very clear, but they were clear enough so that I could fill them in with my own thoughts. We went back and forth for a little, while I tried to get as much from her as I could without making her condition worse.
Then her cold hand finally tightened around mine. “Please, Pia—please. Please take care of this.” Her eyes directly implored my face; at the same time, her irises grew a little distant, a little dim.
“Of course,” I said fast, my heart pounding harder. I kept talking to her, trying to keep her mind with me. “I hate to leave you but you need your rest, and I promise I’ll get on this—urgently.”
As if my last statement had changed her somehow, her dimming eyes widened and she tried to sit up. “Don’t—don’t touch it,” she said in a louder voice now.
I gripped her hand again. “What—don’t touch what?”
She shook her head, but so slowly I wondered if I’d imagined it. Then I had no more time to think about that because her face really did change: it slackened, so did her hand in mine, so did her whole posture. She totally stilled.
And I began freaking out. “Julianne—Julianne! Talk to me! Oh christ—” My eyes shot over to the electric medical monitors, but I had no idea what they meant.
The nurse must have heard my shouts. She walked into the room now.
My head spun around to her. “She’s gone—is she dead?”
“No, Miss, please calm down. She’s out. It’s the nature of her painful internal injuries; this will happen. I think you should leave now. She really needs to rest. There’s nothing you can do for her.”
She was right. But there was still something I could do for Diamond.
*
As I drove to my office from the hospital, I used my portable phone to call Nell, who sounded happy to hear from me—and like she’d almost started crying but had checked herself just in time.
