by Cat Gilbert
Jonas snorted. I had a funny feeling he was laughing at me and I glared at him. What kind of person brought coffee into the hospital and drank it in front of another person? That’s what I wanted to know. I eyed his coffee cup and saw the startled look on his face just as Trinity sailed through the door.
“Taylor!” she shouted, startling me.
“What!” I shouted back, grabbing my head as the sound echoed through my brain, compounding my headache. Pain meds. Where were the pain meds?
“Stop it,” she ordered, her eyes widening in a silent warning.
Stop what? I gave her a wide eyed look right back. What was with her? All I wanted was some coffee. Jonas had some and I saw no reason why I couldn’t have some too. She just stood there looking at me, lips pursed, one eyebrow cocked, waiting for me to figure it out.
Realization of what had nearly happened finally dawned on me. It must have shown on my face, because Trinity let out a very unladylike snort, which I took as a derisive comment on my mental acuity. Not that I could blame her. We had just nearly had a repeat of the coffee house incident right there in the hospital room. The fact that it had happened again was bad enough. That Trinity had known what was happening before I did was even worse. She, who sat firmly in the refusing to believe it column, had seen it the minute she came in the room and Jonas obviously had felt something happening. I had just about managed to convince myself that everything had just been a weird coincidence and now this. The day just couldn’t get any better.
I didn’t dare look at Jonas as Trinity strode over to the bed and threw her briefcase onto my lap. Ouch. She might have seen and believed, but she sure wasn’t happy about it. Swinging a huge purse from her shoulder, she dropped it down on the end of the bed, reached in and came out with a large thermos. Shoving my breakfast tray out of the way, she slapped the thermos down on the bed stand in front of me, grabbed the cup from the tray, dumped the water down the sink and slammed the cup back down on the tray. The minute she opened the thermos, the rich smell of freshly made coffee filled the room. God love her! Coffee! I immediately forgave her for nearly crippling me with that briefcase. She poured a healthy dose and handed me the cup. I chanced a look at Jonas as I took a big sip. He was staring at me.
“Ah,” I said with a moan, trying to make light of the situation. “Just what the doctor ordered.” Trinity retrieved her briefcase from my lap and headed over to the other chair.
I decided the best thing to do was ignore what had happened, or had nearly happened, and try get Jonas’ mind back on the business at hand.
“Jonas was just explaining the guard at the door,” I informed Trinity. “However I think you have it wrong, Jonas.”
“Really?” He tossed back the last of his coffee, looked at the cup and then back at me, His little finger was tapping a beat against the now empty cup. I opted not to fill the silence, instead trying to look innocent, waiting for the shoe to drop. I couldn’t be sure, but from the sound of things Trinity had completely stopped breathing.
“How do you figure that?” He said it so softly, I barely heard it, but I wrapped both hands around it like a lifeline. He was letting it go. With any luck, he had decided that he’d imagined the whole thing with the coffee.
“I don’t think he’s after me. I mean, he shot at you, not me,” I explained, trying hard not to babble as relief surged through me. He raised a questioning eyebrow, but didn’t say anything, so I plunged ahead. “At the hospital, he hit the doctor, not me. From what you told me, the doctor received most of the blows and kicks when he was trying to get away. I think I just got caught in the crossfire.”
“Actually,” Jonas said, rising to leave “ I’m not wrong. You’re right that he shot at me and that he didn’t attack you directly at the hospital. After reviewing the tape numerous times, I’m even willing to say that it appears he was trying to avoid kicking or punching you during his effort to escape, but rest assured, Taylor. He is after you. He just wants you in one piece. So you, and everyone who cares about you,” he said pointedly as he swung his gaze around to Trinity, “need to be aware and exercise extreme caution.”
He crossed to the door and tossed his empty cup into the trash. Turning he gave us one last look. “Ladies, I am aware that something is going on here between the two of you. Whatever it is, if I find out it has something to do with this case and you’ve withheld information, I’m going to VERY unhappy with both of you.” With that last admonishment, he left the room, letting the door close quietly behind him. Within seconds, Trinity was on her feet, pacing back and forth across the room.
“If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it! What were you thinking?” she hissed at me. She was in full lawyer mode but we were both aware of the officer on the other side of the door, not to mention the possibility of Jonas coming back unannounced.
“Just what do you think you saw, Trinity?” I asked, unwilling to admit to what we had both seen and Jonas now suspected.
“Don’t play that game with me, Taylor. You know what happened here, you just don’t want to admit it.” She gave up the pacing and came to stand by the side of the bed with her hands on her hips. “If I hadn’t come in, you’d be wearing Jonas’s coffee. I repeat, what were you thinking!”
“ I wasn’t thinking!” I answered back in a hushed whisper. “I just wanted coffee! It’s just like the last time!”
“Well, you were right about one thing. The spoon experiment was stupid. You should have just used coffee. Apparently you’re really good at that. Then we would have known right away.” She looked at me waiting for a response and I had none. I mean, what was there to say? My silence took the wind right out of her sails.
“Oh my gosh,” Trinity moaned as she collapsed onto the bed, the grim reality hitting her. “It’s true. You’ve got that thing. That Telekinesis.”
I wasn’t any more happy about it than as she was. As much as I wanted her to be wrong, I couldn’t avoid the facts. It had happened too many times, for me to deny it any longer. The look on Jonas’ face as he felt the coffee being pulled from his grasp and the fact that Trinity had known immediately what was happening, the minute she walked in the door was the proverbial nail in the coffin. I didn’t know why, or how, but I knew deep down it was true. Maybe I had known all along. Now that I had accepted it, my mind started putting the pieces together and warning alarms began going off.
“You’re right, Trinity.” I whispered. “I do have it. But that’s not the worst thing.”
She looked at me expectantly and I watched as realization dawned in her eyes even as I answered her unspoken question.
“The worst thing is that Denzel knows I have it too.”
EIGHT
TRINITY SOON LEFT for court, promising to return later in the day. I was left to try to fit the rest of the puzzle together. Thinking back I remembered Denzel’s anger at the coffee shop and his accusation that he and I both “knew” he didn’t throw the coffee at me. At the time, I thought it was just something he said to convince me he didn’t throw it on purpose, but looking back now, his statement made more sense if he already knew about the telekinesis. How could that be? How could he have known before I did?
By lunch time, my head was spinning with questions. I was relieved and actually somewhat hungry when the lunch tray finally arrived. The food smelled good, but my stomach rebelled once it was staring up at me, so I ended up shoving the tray away and being tormented by the smell until they came and took it away. At one o’clock the doctor came in, and I got the all clear to take some slow walks down the hall once the nurse got me unhooked from all the machines.
I had hoped walking would help clear my head, but I was weaker than I expected and between trying to keep my gown closed and the guard following me at a snail’s pace down the hall, I quickly decided I would restrict my walking to the room. Exhausted, I climbed back into bed, delighted to find the nurses had taken advantage of my absence to freshen the room and change the sheets. Getting so
me rest, would have been a good idea, but I was having trouble turning off my brain.
If I was right, Denzel somehow already knew about me having TK, as they call it. He knew and he’d been following me. It might not have been a coincidence that he was at my particular coffee haunt, but I thought it pretty safe to assume that the altercation with the coffee hadn’t been in his plans. I wracked my brain trying to remember if I had seen him there before, but it was all a muddle, either from the blows I had taken, or I just simply didn’t remember. If he was watching me back then, it stood to reason that it was probably him tailing me in the BMW too. If Jonas was right and Denzel was after me, then why just watch me? And why shoot at Jonas?
As if my mind had conjured him, Jonas came sailing through the door.
“You’re looking better,” he stated after a quick glance. Magically a cup of coffee appeared in his hand. “A peace offering for this morning. I should have brought you one then. I just didn’t realize what an addict you are.”
“All is forgiven,” I assured him, grabbing the cup from his hand before anything weird could happen. “The important thing is you brought one now. Any news on the prints or DNA?”
I may not have figured much out, but I had come to the conclusion that I needed to tell Jonas the whole truth, as it seemed relevant to the case and was prepared to launch into a full confession, but his reply stopped me in my tracks.
“No. Nothing on either, but we do have some new evidence.” He settled into the chair next to the hospital bed and leaned over close. “We had a report of a body in the river under the I-40 bridge this morning.” He stopped abruptly as I tensed up, belatedly realizing what he’d said. “No. No, it’s not about Keith. I’m sorry.”
Even after all this time, every time they found a body, I went back to the night of the accident. The endless hours as they searched for him. The pain when they gave up hope of finding him. I don’t know what difference finding his body would make to me now. I knew he was gone, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. Every time they found someone in the water, I found myself at the morgue, waiting for an identification. Maybe I needed a body to put it behind me. I don’t know, but it certainly wasn’t Jonas’ fault. I should have been able to handle it by now. I waved off his apology and waited for him to go on.
“Okay, well, anyway, we located the body. Fortunately, it hadn’t been in the water long and based on your description and the video footage we caught of him, I’d say your boy, Denzel, met with a rather painful end sometime early this morning.”
What? Denzel was dead? Jonas’ words were cutting through the fog that wrapped around me when he mentioned the body. I looked up confused, to see Jonas watching me closely. “In case, you’re wondering, it looks like foul play and he’s connected to you. I’d say you’re pretty fortunate that the guard can verify your whereabouts for the past 24 hours, or we’d be having this discussion at the station.”
“Are you kidding me?” I was horrified that he would even think such a thing. “What possible motive would I have for killing Denzel? I don’t even know him.”
“We just have your word for that. We know you’ve been involved in at least three altercations with him. Possibly more, if we can put him in a black BMW. You hunt him down in the hospital, he spots you and takes off and now he’s dead. Add that to the fact that you’re keeping secrets and that would put you right at the top of the suspect list.” Anger rolled off him in waves and I could feel my own anger rise in response.
“I can’t believe you’re saying this. First of all, he threw the coffee at me. I didn’t attack him. Second, he shot at you, and I saved you, and finally, I didn’t hunt him down. I thought there was a highly unlikely possibility that the man who had just tried to kill you was in the hospital after the nurse told me about the guy with a busted hand and I decided to check it out. I didn’t open the door. I didn’t threaten him. I didn’t do anything! He ran because he knew I would report him.”
Our raised voices had alarmed the floor nurse who was hurrying into the room. Not caring about having an audience, Jonas stood and braced himself on the bed, leaning over me.
“And just how did you save my life?” he whispered. “Did you slam the door on his hand?”
I gasped, my eyes wide with shock. I had meant that I had warned him, distracted Denzel at the pivotal moment. The thought that I had somehow managed to slam the car door had never entered my mind. It had, however, popped into his. Was Jonas right? Did I slam the door? The realization that it might be possible sent shock waves coursing through me. Oh dear Lord, what is going on? If I had slammed the door without realizing it, what else had I done that I didn’t know about?
My questions hung on the air, unasked and unanswered, as the nurse escorted Jonas from the room.
NINE
TWO DAYS LATER I was a free woman. Released from the hospital, I was still somewhat shaky on my feet, but the swelling had gone down enough that I could see out of my left eye again. My bruises had faded from the violent black and blue to lovely green and yellow tones that only served to punctuate the dark circles under my eyes, but I was happy to be gone from the sterile confines of the hospital and on my way to Mama D’s to finish out my recovery.
The first time I had stepped into the house that Trinity had bought for her grandmother, I knew it was more than a house. It was a home. A real home. The sparkling windows and scrubbed floor were softened with cushioned rugs and sheer curtains billowed with the air from the open windows. Pots of flowers dotted the tables and sat nestled in corners, giving the house a fragrant breath of life and color. As cozy as it was though, it wasn’t the decor that made it a home. It was Mama D. From Trinity’s stories, the love of Mama D had always been there, in good times and bad, no matter the circumstances. Without Mama D there, it would have just been another house.
I felt a pang of remorse for the parents I could barely remember and the family I would never have. Killed in a plane crash when I was seven, I remembered my parents only in bits and pieces of time. Sometimes I would catch a scent in the air that would stir my senses and take me back in time to memories otherwise forgotten. I might not have remembered a lot from back then, but what memories I had were good ones. Of laughter and love and a house full of joy.
Unfortunately, most of my childhood memories were of after the accident. I’d gone to live with my father’s sister, Vivian, a woman I had never even heard of, much less met. She was a young, single woman focused on her career. She had no idea what to do with me, but there were no other options, no other family existed. That Vivian had appeared on the scene was nothing short of a miracle. If she hadn’t taken me in, I would have ended up a ward of the state.
To say it was a rocky relationship would be an understatement. Aunt Vivian had a firm set of rules and a firmer hand with punishment when those rules were broken. I had learned over time and same rather painful lessons, when to question and when to keep quiet, fearful but grateful to have a place to call home.
However lacking her parenting skills, she did have the funds to ensure that I never lacked for anything. I was sent to the best schools, had the best clothes, and went to the best places. She had given me everything she had, except the time and the love that I so desperately needed. The older I became, the less time we spent together, each of us going our own direction. By the time I went off to college, we had become strangers. I never saw her again after that. Didn’t really even hear from her except for the obligatory and stilted phone calls on holidays and birthdays.
Time passed, and then when I was 20, I got the phone call. Aunt Vivian was gone. She’d suffered a massive coronary, and there had been nothing they could do. I flew back to arrange the funeral. Sold the house and most of the furniture, and donated her personal items to charity. There was nothing there I really wanted that belonged to her. I didn’t want to be reminded of my time there. The exception was my Grandmothers silver service. That belonged to me. I packed it in my suitcase and left, closing the door on the house
and the memories it held. For the first time in my life, I was completely on my own, with no one to answer to. No one to judge me. Just me. Completely alone.
Five years later, I had gone to dinner with Trinity and found a new family. Mama D had taken me into the fold and I had found a place to belong. A good place, full of laughter, acceptance and love. Now, as we pulled up to Mama D’s, I knew I had two to three days ahead of me of constant hovering, home-cooked meals and lots of tender loving care. I could hardly wait.
IT WAS RIGHT after breakfast on my second day there, that Mama D led Jonas Hill into the kitchen.
“This man says he knows you and needs to have a word,” Mama D announced. “Is that so?”
Mama D looked ready to toss Jonas out on his ear if I indicated that he wasn’t welcome, the thought of which, had me smiling as I assured her that I did indeed know him. She got him settled at the table with a cup of coffee and one of her famous homemade cinnamon rolls, before heading out to the garden to give us some privacy.
I hadn’t seen Jonas since our blow up at the hospital several days earlier. The guard he had posted at my door had disappeared sometime the next day. I wasn’t concerned. No matter how angry Jonas was with me, I knew he would never have called off the guard if he thought there was any danger. I had filled Trinity in on what had happened with Jonas, and she was as confused and frustrated as I was about what was happening. I’d had a lot of time to think about things while in the hospital. I still didn’t have any answers, but I thought I had a better grasp on things.
“I hope you’re here to tell me some good news,” I started in while he lifted the roll, plate and all to his nose and inhaled deeply.
“Yes, and no,” he replied, finally taking a bite out of the roll. “We’ve just identified your friend Denzel from his prints. Records indicate he’s one Marcus Adams out of Omaha.” Jonas frowned as he stopped to take a sip of coffee. “ I don’t know about you, but Marcus didn’t impress me as having come in off the farm. I found him to be a little more uptown.”
