Glass Houses

by Terri Nolan

  “Alright, I’m awake.” She sat against the headboard, and pulled the covers back up, looked at the clock. 12:04 p.m. “What day is it?”

  “It’s still Thursday.”

  “I don’t understand. Last thing I remember is talking to you in the kitchen.”

  “Then you came up here for a nap.”

  “Who closed the shades?”

  Thom stuck his head into the doorway. At least Birdie thought it was Thom. His hair was gone. Well, mostly gone. “Good, you’re up. Anne’s on her way.”

  “What the hell happened to your hair?”

  “Arthur shaved it. Like it?”

  “What’s going on?”

  She heard Frank’s soothing voice in the hallway. “Thom, would you like to serve coffee, tea, or wine?”

  Thom turned and disappeared. She heard him say, “Do I need to serve that bitch anything?”

  She didn’t hear Frank’s admonishment.

  Birdie looked to Arthur for clarification.

  “George called Anne to tell her that they were found out. She called Thom to explain. Frank intervened and agreed to mediate a face-to-face meeting. Anne’s expected any moment.”

  Birdie moved the covers aside and threw her legs over the edge of the bed. She was groggy; bearings lost. She stretched her stiff fingers. Her stomach growled. When had she last eaten? How long had she been wearing these clothes? When was her last shower? She lifted her arm and took a whiff. Then she remembered a recent bath. What day was that? One day morphed into another and she had lost track.

  “You don’t stink,” said Arthur. “But your hair looks like shit. Put some powder in it.”

  “I need exercise.”

  “You exercise too much. Take a few days off.”

  She threw him a hostile look. “When did you become task-master?”

  “Since I discovered you and Thom are a mess.” Birdie opened her mouth to protest, but Arthur stopped her. “Remember, you asked me here.”

  “True enough. Why’d you shave Thom’s hair?”

  “Us guys were talking about how the gray doesn’t do him any favors. Frank suggested dyeing it.”

  “Thom couldn’t go back to the job with dyed hair. Cops are the worst bullies.”

  “That was Thom’s main concern. We decided that if he wore a crew cut like I do that it’d give him a younger look. More hip. We sent Madi a photo and she loved it. Said when she comes back home she’ll take him shopping for a new wardrobe.”

  “It’s a drastic change. He doesn’t need more drama right now.”

  The doorbell rang.

  “Speaking of drama … she’s heeeeeere,” said Arthur.

  _____

  Frank gently escorted Arthur and Birdie from the library. “Only the principals need be present,” he said.

  Thom read Arthur and Birdie’s concerned faces and gave them a smile of reassurance. I’ll be okay. As the doors clicked closed, he felt a moment of insecurity about the course of action he determined to take with Anne. Frank had advised him against it. Said the hurt was too fresh, that it was too soon. But Thom had been living an emotionally incorrect life. Anne had moved on, he needed to as well.

  Frank held out his hands, “Let us pray.”

  Thom and Anne each grasped one of Frank’s. When she reached for Thom’s free hand he noted his refusal by sticking it into his pocket.

  Father Frank lowered his head, “Our Lord and God, we firmly believe that you are here, that you see us, that you hear us. We adore you with profound reverence and ask your pardon for our sins. Please bless us now as we enter a time of mediation, of discussion, and we ask that this time be fruitful. Please grant us the courage and strength to forget the trespass we assume for ourselves and let us come to good resolutions. We put ourselves at your mercy and humbly ask for the grace to forgive. Please shine your everlasting light of grace upon us for we are mere sinners and need your guidance. Come, O Holy Spirit, fill our hearts with your fire and love. Send forth your spirit so that we—your humble servants Thomas, Anne, and Francis—may be worthy of you. We ask this in your name. In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.”

  Frank’s prayer filled Thom’s heart with endless respect for a man he knew, but not really knew. Like most parishioners, he sought guidance from a man who stood behind the altar, the pulpit. But being a pastor was more than delivering an inspiring message. Frank had inserted himself into their meeting as if to state we will trill and mine for solutions together. As an equal partner of the discussion to be, he placed upon himself a subtle authority that would no doubt steer the couple to an understanding of mistakes, to forgiveness and, eventually, the solidarity and strengthening of a marriage. Frank’s psychological play was low-key, but with an undertow of intensity at the seriousness of that which would be soon embarked upon.

  Thom no longer felt like he was above the treeline in a barren land of aloneness. His will to thrive came bubbling up from the deep well inside his soul. He shook his free hand as if unshackling the hurt. Anne was not the villain, but he would not go back to a life that had run dry. He was thirsty again. And he owed it all to Frank’s brilliance.

  Though this wasn’t what Frank likely had in mind.

  Thom whispered to Anne, “I’m sorry for the rebuke.” He reached out and gave her hand a quick squeeze. For the first time in a long while she blessed him with a smile. And he knew then that the dusty memories of what their life had been would not shape his future.

  Frank motioned Thom and Anne to sit together on the couch. Frank chose a seat off to the side where a friend might sit. He gestured at the tea set, but Thom and Anne declined with a polite wave. He pointed to the wine decanter and both shook their heads. That didn’t prevent Frank from pouring himself a glass and placing a small bowl of nuts on the coffee table.

  “If it makes you feel any better,” said Anne, “George is just sick. He loves you.”

  “He should’ve thought about that in the beginning,” said Thom. He stood. There was no way he’d be able to sit through this. “What if we were in a life-or-death situation? We don’t ride a black-and-white, but we have a responsibility to and for each other. Partners protect each other. Instead of throwing himself in front of a bullet would he think, naw I’ll let Thom take this one so I can take his place with Anne.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” said Anne. “He always spoke of you with great respect.”

  “Yet he disrespected me by sleeping with my wife!” He began to pace.

  “Thom,” warned Frank. “There will be no yelling here today.”

  “Would it make you feel better if I told you that we were surprised by the seduction that an affair promised?”

  Thom snorted with derision.

  “I can’t say anything in our defense,” said Anne. “What we did was wrong. We knew it. That’s what made it more thrilling.”

  “Yeah, and you’d still be doing it if you hadn’t been caught.”

  Anne wrung her hands. “We were selfish. You may not believe this, but I’m truly sorry that we hurt you.”

  “You’re a piece of work. You’re sorry for me, but not the screwing around, the house, the gifts. And what really chaps my hide is that you’re trying to destroy my career. My marriage is gone, take my career, too.”

  “I didn’t do it,” said Anne. “The private investigator emailed your lieutenant the photo of you and that girl in the car.”

  “That girl has turned into a suspect in a homicide. Do you understand what that means? Your actions not only screwed me, but they’ve screwed this case! There may not be justice for the victims.”

  “Temper,” reminded Frank.

  “Why did you have to hire someone, Anne? You’re the one who set the parameters in our marriage. You knew what I was doing.”

  “I did it on advice. The attorney said because of my financ
ial situation that I had to have some asset protection. Testing your integrity seemed the easiest—”

  “—wait, wait, wait. Are you telling me that the PI emailed the photo and suggested to my supervisor that I be tested in this manner? That means he had prior knowledge of the homicide.”

  Anne vigorously shook her head. “No. That’s not true. He’d been sending one photo a week. This one’s importance was coincidence, I swear.”

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “Two months.”

  No wonder George was worried, thought Thom.

  “So George knew.”

  “Absolutely not. I never spoke about it.”

  Thom thought about this. George had been worried about the surveillance because he didn’t know Anne was behind it and he was worried they, the FBI or LAPD, would snare him and Anne in the process. So he really didn’t know.

  “And what about the report of misconduct? Did the PI do that as well?”

  Anne’s eyes widened. “Thom, I swear on the life of our children that I didn’t know about that until after the fact. He filed the report two weeks ago. He assured me that most reports lack corroborated evidence. He said this one had no merit because the girls were off-duty stuff, that it wouldn’t damage your career. He filed the report and forwarded the photos to establish a pattern. Just in case we’d need it for divorce negotiations.”

  Bird sure was right on that score, thought Thom.

  “Did it ever occur to you to wave off your bloodhound? You know what the family faces with Gerard’s Blue Bandit bullshit swirling around us. Are you that dense?”

  Anne’s eyes welled. “Apparently I am. I followed bad advice. I’m sorry.”

  Thom stopped pacing long enough to take a pull from Frank’s wineglass. He picked up a pad of paper and a pen off the desk and dropped both into her lap. “Write down the PI’s name and number.”

  “Thom—”

  “Do it.”

  Anne bent over the paper.

  “Thom,” said Frank, “revenge is a dangerous thing.”

  “It’s not revenge, Frank. I wonder what game he’s playing. A woman with a fat checkbook and a questionable, ex-cop PI doesn’t make a good relationship.”

  “How do you know if he’s an ex-cop?” said Anne.

  “Because of what you said. What else has he got his fingers into?”

  Anne shook her head. “I don’t know. We—the attorney and I—hired him to find proof of your adultery.”

  “Glass Houses, Anne. What about yours?”

  Anne’s tears overflowed and fell down her cheeks.

  “Anne,” said Frank. “Do you love Thom?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Be honest, Anne,” said Thom. “We haven’t had sex since the twins were conceived and just yesterday you told me you didn’t love me and you wanted a divorce.”

  He poured himself a glass of wine and fantasized about throwing it at her.

  “Is that true?” said Frank to Anne.

  “I’ve been considering it for a long time,” she admitted. “Long before George. I’ve been dead. It was nice to feel alive again. To be wanted.”

  “What?” Thom said with indignation. “I’ve always wanted you. I’ve never stopped loving you. Not even now. Know what? I’m going to save us a lot of time. Deed me the Brentwood house, furnishings included. I’ll move out of the house for a trial separation. If you can convince the bishop to annul our marriage then I’ll consider a civil divorce. Meanwhile, I don’t want to be a pathetic weekend dad and uproot the kids every week or even every-other. They deserve stability. I suggest you convert the pool house into a guest cottage. You can stay there when it’s my turn with the kids. I’ll stay in the guest room when I’m in the main house. We will always be respectful of the other in front of the kids and our families. No trash mouth. We have the same parenting values, but should there be an issue on that score we’ll work it out privately and always present a united front for the kid’s sake.”

  “Anything else?” said Anne.

  Before Frank could get in a word, Thom concluded, “I want ten grand a month.”

  “Done,” said Anne.

  _____

  The guys had finished what was left of Birdie’s in-case-of-emergency stash. Arthur called up Rod’s liquor and placed an order for replacement booze. And a few extra bottles for Thom. And two six packs of beer. And potato chips. Then he ordered pizza.

  “What do you think they’re discussing?” said Arthur in reference to Anne insisting she drive Frank back to the rectory.

  “The same stuff we discussed,” said Thom. “She’s getting her share of Frank’s ear.”

  “Poor Frank,” said Birdie. “He’s got to be exhausted.”

  “We’re all exhausted,” said Thom. “What were they thinking? How could this ever have ended well?”

  “Maybe they thought the affair would burn out and they’d go their separate ways. No one the wiser,” said Birdie.

  “Why aren’t you madder?” said Thom.

  Birdie shook her head. “Past experience has told me I’m a hard girl to get along with. Besides, your situation is the higher offense.”

  “What I don’t understand is that after you guys broke up he whined constantly about missing you. He obsessed about how Matt’s death freed you from the emotional barrier and that there was real potential for a new-and-improved relationship. Then Ron came along and that threw him into a tizzy. And yet, all that time he was banging my wife.”

  “Wife is the key word,” said Arthur. “Like you said, there was no way it’d end well. She was an aside, a wealthy woman who treated him lavishly, but there was no future there. With Bird the potential existed.”

  “Wonder where he’ll go,” said Birdie.

  “What do you mean?” said Thom.

  “Birdie banished him,” said Arthur. “Told him to leave RHD and never show his face to you again.”

  “That’s sweet,” said Thom. “But I can take care of myself. George and I will have a face to face.”

  “Or a fist to fist,” said Arthur.

  fifty-two

  Friday, May 18

  Yesterday, Arthur was wise to have wakened Birdie when he did. After a full seven hours of sleep she awoke with the energy for a workout. After a cold shower and breakfast she was ready to tackle Thom’s case again.

  If the pattern were correct, the killer would strike again in two days.

  Birdie was surprised to see Thom already in the office. He sat at the altar typing away on his laptop. If the altar was going to be used as a table, she’d need to buy taller chairs. Thom looked like a little person behind the mass.

  “Please tell me you got some sleep last night,” she said.

  He looked up from the computer. His eyes were swollen, but the rest of his face seemed relaxed, rested. He wore the haircut well. Who knew such a handsome man hid underneath a mop of gray hair?

  “Six hours. You?”

  “Seven.”

  “Right on. Hey … thank you for calling Arthur and Frank. I don’t know how I would have gotten through the last thirty-some hours without you all. Frank said the healing has just begun, but I—”

  “—don’t make my mistake and ignore the personal. Don’t put undue pressure on yourself. Don’t allow the job to distract you from Thom time. You have major challenges ahead.”

  “I know. Frank kept saying something similar. And I’ve been seriously thinking about it, reflecting on the investigation. There’s a team in place. I’m officially off. My skills aren’t needed this go-round. Why should I continue? But here’s what I was going to say before … I’m a detective. I started this thing five days ago. I care about the victims. They deserve my attention. Normally, I’d push on and everything in my life would suffer. This case is especially stressful because the k
iller might strike again on Sunday.”

  Thom shook his head. “I feel like I’ve fallen into a nest of snakes. They’re writhing around me and I don’t know when one of them is going to strike. I can’t do it, Bird, I almost committed suicide. How bad does it have to get before I back away and save my sanity?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’ve been doing a lot of research this morning. I have a new plan that involves Anita. We need her help. She’s agreed to come over.”

  “She’s coming here?”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “You should’ve asked. This isn’t just my office where I do my work, it’s my home.”

  “Shit, Bird. I have kinda taken over.” He spread his hands in apology. “I can cancel.”

  Birdie hadn’t considered the ramifications of space sharing with Thom before she agreed he could use the board. Her mission-in-progress required the utmost privacy and Thom already heard the argument she had with Ron about the not-dead person. She couldn’t risk his accidentally coming across her intell. She had to be mindful about where she left her materials, the laptop. Failing to lock the safe? Huge mistake. But he lived here now—even if temporarily—and his stay would be of unknown duration. Still … she felt uncomfortable with the prospect of a cop she didn’t know in her office.

  “Is it essential she come here?” said Birdie.

  “Tick-tock. She’ll be here in a few hours. We don’t have much time.”

  “Alright. But later on we’ll need to set some boundaries. You wouldn’t’ve invited her to your house, so why mine?”

  “Now I feel like a schmuck.”

  “That’s not my intent. Yes means yes. Let’s move on, okay?”

  A phone in Thom’s pocket buzzed. He reached in and pulled out the burner.

  “Noa.” He aimed for the deck and scooped up his smokes along the way.

  _____

  “Aloha, Thom, how are you doing?” said Noa.

  Thom held the phone between his ear and shoulder and lit a cigarette. “You calling to make sure I didn’t kill the bastard?”

  “I called to see how you’re feeling … considering the participants.”