by Cat Connor
I led the way to the kitchen. “Have a seat.” My hand flapped toward the stools by the counter.
“Busy. Okay busy. Lots of meetings.”
“And your parents?” I asked again, pouring coffee.
“They’re good. They were at your dad’s last week.”
I wanted to ask how dad was but didn’t. Mitch set the bag on the counter.
“What’s in the bag?”
“Dinner.”
“Thought this was coffee?”
“Me too, then I stopped by Whole Foods on my over. You and me, we’re cooking roast chicken.” Mitch grinned. “You look like you need a meal.”
I looked like I needed a meal? Stunned. I had no witty come back for that one.
And roast chicken sounded good. Maybe I did need a meal.
A noise from the sink caught my attention. Abigail squeezed her fat feathery body out of the drain. She puffed out her feathers and strutted across the counter top. With an indignant squawk, she pecked at the bag. I looked at her. She cocked her head to one-side, her shiny black bead of an eye stared at me.
“It’s okay, Abigail. The chances of that being a relative are slim,” I whispered. She squawked again and vanished back down the drain.
Mitch was leaning across the countertop, his expression quizzical. “Who were you talking to?” He pointed to the counter. “Who was on the counter?”
Whatever I said had the potential to ruin dinner and the beginning of a really good friendship. Truth then. Go for broke.
“Abigail. She was my pet chicken until she was tortured by a lunatic.” I left out the bit where I shot her. “I like chickens.”
His head nodded.
“You okay eating chicken?”
“As long as you have sweet potatoes in there, too,” I replied peering into the bag at the plastic wrapped chicken carcass. Sure, why not. I’ll eat chicken.
We cooked and talked for over two hours then eventually ate. Catching up on twenty-three years’ worth of information. Twenty-three years. How does that even happen?
My phone rang twice. I ignored it. For the first time in weeks I was comfortable, laughing, talking, and I didn’t want it to end. I seemed not to be the only one.
The third time my phone rang I turned it over. I saw Rowan’s name and picture on the screen before I did.
A voice in my head rumbled at me. I silenced it. Whatever it was that was happening in front of me I knew it was good. It was good. Nothing bad was going to happen.
How?
I could see it in his eyes.
A smile came from nowhere and settled. He noticed.
“You haven’t changed at all,” I said.
“That’s good?”
“That’s very good.” I laughed. “It’s very very good.”
“It’s been tough hasn’t it?”
I could feel the frown forming as sadness edged in. “Sometimes.”
“When did you see my folks last?”
I had to think. Pretty sure, they were at the funeral. They were my brother’s godparents. When did I last talk to them?
“A year or so ago.” I shrugged. Time marched on quicker than I’d like; then there were the times it wouldn’t move fast enough. Hard to please. Contrary.
I stared into my empty coffee cup wishing tequila would magically appear as I searched for the elation that should’ve accompanied the wrapping up of a case. I couldn’t find it. Jaded? Maybe.
Reeling a little from the betrayal of Tierney by his wife? Absolutely. That sucked out loud and gave change. Unable to fathom how Chad could turn on his country? You bet.
Images of him dead and looking exactly like Mac would haunt me. I knew that. Just when I was able to see light at the end of the tunnel, he dragged me back into the dark. The Connelly family were cursed.
Just as the third brother popped into my head, Mitch spoke.
I jumped.
His hand covered mine. “Sorry!” He laughed. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
I chewed my lip and smiled. “Remnants from the case. I’m the one who is sorry.”
“I imagine things stick with you.”
“They do.”
His smile became a grin. “You still dating Grange?”
“No.”
I frowned at how fast that “no” fell from my mouth.
“You sure?” he said with a smile. “Saw you two in the news the other day.”
“We’re not dating.” Over is over.
“Your dad thinks you are.”
I shrugged. Hadn’t quite got around to telling dad we weren’t.
“All we did was fight. He was pushing me to rejoin the world. I’m not ready.”
A gentle smile flickered on his lips.
“You’re ready for this …” he said, pointing to the coffee cups.
“That’s not fair.”
“Probably not.”
My voice dropped to a raspy whisper, “And he had an affair.”
“I’m not happy about that,” Mitch replied, matching the tone and depth of my voice.
“Irrefutable out for me though,” I said. “Silver lining.”
My Pollyanna streak was coming back. I expected rainbows to dance across the counter. They didn’t, disappointing.
Mitch reached out and turned my phone back over. The screen was visible again. Ignored phone calls. Ignored texts. The numbers had mounted up.
It rang again. Caine’s number flashed on the screen with ‘boss’ captioned below it.
“Take the call. That same number has rung six times,” he urged. “They’ll be worried,”
Worried?
Probably.
I answered the call.
Caine’s gruff voice rasped into my ear, “About time. You all right, kid?”
“Yes, hanging out with a friend. Okay with you?”
“Good. Your preliminary report has met with approval. You will be getting a commendation for your involvement in resolving the nuclear situation.”
“Highly unnecessary. It’s my job.”
“It’s happening. Get used to it,” his voice growled. “You will attend the ceremony when you get the invite.”
“Yes, sir.”
From memory, it wouldn’t be a quick thing. I’d have a few months to forget about it. I hung up.
Mitch stood. Panic surged and took me by surprise. He was leaving. From the corner of my eye, I saw Spiderman edging his way across the ceiling. Not a good time for the crazy to come back. If I didn’t look, he wasn’t really there. Like a train wreck, I couldn’t look away. A speech bubble grew from his mouth with words in black comic sans. ‘Be cool.’
“I need to get going. Great to catch up. We have to do this again”
I took a breath and smiled as I walked toward him.
“Not in another twenty-three years?”
“No, we’ll do this again soon?” Mitch said. His voice was warm and filled with a smile.
“Yes, most definitely.”
“Next time, we’ll go have a drink. You still drink tequila?” He paused. “Snakebite. That was your drink in college, yes?”
“How’d you know that?”
“Your dad,” he replied, laughing. “We talk.”
My fingers crossed. “Yeah, sometimes I still drink tequila. Not often.”
Liar.
His arms circled me. Words semi-whispered in my ear as he held me close.
“I’m so sorry.”
I sank into him.
With everything that had happened, he was exactly what I needed. A friend. I was safer wrapped in his friendship than I was anywhere else. For the first time in weeks, maybe even months, I felt that everything was going to be okay.
The End.
“Only in the darkness can you see the stars.”
― Martin Luther King Jr.
Ellie’s poem.
The darkness held a surprise
A diamond visible on the inky canvas
Trailing laughter across th
e sky
Reminding me of how it could be
Ameliorating all that came before
Talking and talking
Never tiring
Holding a heartbeat in safe hands
My head upon your shoulder
Whispered words in my ear
Melting blue into blue
Also by Cat Connor
Killerbyte (1st byte)
An FBI agent is taunted by a killer who murders her friends and colleagues. Can she stop him before he kills everyone she ever cared for?
-from Rebel ePublishers, USA
Terrorbyte (2nd byte)
A newly married FBI agent, SA Ellie Conway, investigates a series of horrific homicides that she believes are concealing other heinous crimes.
-from Rebel ePublishers, USA
Exacerbyte (3rd byte)
A grieving FBI agent, SSA Ellie Conway, attempts to find the child trafficking terrorist behind her husband’s death.
-from Rebel ePublishers, USA
Flashbyte (4th byte)
SSA Ellie Conway is the recipient of some unusual mail; meanwhile a terrorist from her past surfaces as she’s trying to find a killer in a hospital, and life gets messy.
-from Rebel ePublishers, USA
Soundbyte (5th byte)
FBI agent, SSA Ellie Conway, investigates the murder of a jeweler and uncovers more than she ever expected, shaking the foundations of at least one federal agency.
-from Rebel ePublishers, USA
Databyte (6th byte)
An FBI agent framed for murder must protect an actor and clear her name while on the run.
- Coming 2014 from Rebel ePublishers, USA.
Eraserbyte (7th byte)
As surveillance footage disappears in front of her FBI agent, SSA Ellie Conway tries to piece together the events and people involved to prevent more terror attacks and deaths in Washington, DC.
-Release TBA
Torrent (a collection of short bytes)
A collections of short byte stories that take place during killerbyte, terrorbyte, and exacerbyte.
- Available from Amazon.com
