This Guy Kills Me

by Anlyn Hansell

  She admitted a few other things during their conversations too. Things that made no sense to his rational mind. She truly did believe that she was psychic. Every once in a while, she would throw something out to an unsuspecting stranger and the reaction was always pure shock. That was usually before she was commanded to leave or threatened with bodily harm. It was becoming a bit of a joke between them. It was also completely unconstructive to his purposes - at least the part where he could actually net information as to Rick’s whereabouts. The other reason? Well, he wouldn’t think about that. She was a weed. She knowingly delivered drugs for the asshole and any amount of convincing him otherwise was quickly squashed in his brain as more lies. Even though, she seemed so sincere…

  Any association with Rick was suspect, though. He was bad news. Apparently he had always been bad news. He started as a teenager and was still able to worm his way around the city and surrounding areas without detection, without any form of hindrance and it was frustrating to say the least. He could find anyone. Even with the Network at his disposal, he still couldn’t find him. How was that possible? How did someone exist but not exist? It defied comprehension.

  Rick Trayer was the one person that knew what happened nine years ago. The only person that could help him right a colossal wrong was the one person in the world that he couldn’t actually find. Time was running out, unfortunately. This whole situation defied all rational logic. Rick, the drug ring, Rick’s gorgeous little mule lying next to him…mumbling something about…homefries?

  Totally crazy. Just as crazy as his finger tracing her cheek lightly…

  Dumbass.

  He pulled his hand away and tucked it firmly under his body as he shot her sleeping form a glare then closed his eyes.

  Chapter 7

  “I think that’s it. I mean, other than the guy in Southfield,” she stated as they crossed over from Detroit into Harper Woods. Another day, another wasted trip that gained them zero information as to Rick’s whereabouts.

  “I have an idea on that one.”

  “Are we going back to stake the place out?”

  “No. I have a better idea. There are cameras all over that lobby by the way. I don’t want to hang out there too much – it might look suspicious.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “The plan is, we’ll go after hours, check the offices then.”

  “We’re going to break in?” She couldn’t keep the squeamish look from her face.

  “Nope.” His simple reply caused her eyebrows to rise expectantly.

  “Ahhh…Ok. So how -” Her words were cut off by ringing. It sounded like an old rotary phone ring. Different from the digital bleat of the beeper he carried. He immediately rooted inside his coat and pulled out a cell phone. She watched his brow furrow as he made out the number and placed it next to his ear.

  “Hello?”

  “WHAT?!?No. I’ll be right there. Just…tell her I’m coming. Tell her…never mind, I’ll tell her myself.” He quickly pressed a button on the phone and shoved it back in his pocket angrily before slamming on the gas and practically flying down Kelly Rd. His knuckles were white from the death grip on the steering wheel. His jaw was clenched and now would probably not be the best time to ask him what was going on, she thought as she watched him intently. He passed car after car, slamming the brakes at regular intervals as red lights seemed intent on slowing his progress down the stretch of road.

  He was still staring ahead, completely focused on driving wherever it was they were driving, ignoring the fact that she was seated next to him in the car. A quick turn on Eight Mile and more of the same: weaving in and out of traffic, passing cars, slamming on brakes. Whatever this was, completely unwound him. It was the first time in almost two weeks that he seemed…ruffled. He shot around the island at the Harper intersection, drove to the light and made the turn, completely ignoring the ‘No Turn on Red’ sign as he continued to speed down the road. At some point her hand had gripped the door handle and refused to let go as she continued to stare at him.

  They turned onto Twelve Mile and almost immediately turned left onto Oak Grove. Well maintained bungalows lined either side and large trees framed the street as they passed a few of the homes before pulling to the side.

  Stopping the car, he quickly pulled the keys from the ignition and grabbed the handle before turning toward her.

  “Stay in the car.”

  “What? “

  “Just…Oh shit.” His eyes widened as they looked past her, causing her to turn her head. A sweet looking older woman sat on the porch, a thin metal walker situated next to her.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Ok, listen. Stay in the car; don’t make eye contact with her. Just stare straight ahead. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes. Promise.”

  “But…”

  “No buts Jane. Just sit.”

  With that, he opened the door and stepped out, slamming it behind him and engaging the lock with his key fob before jogging up the front walkway. She watched him exchange a few words with the older woman before disappearing into the front door of the home.

  Staring straight ahead, she perused the rest of the block. Large lawns, different styles of houses peppered here and there, breaking up the monotony of single story dwellings that took up the majority of the street. It was nice, actually. Looked rather peaceful, the trees gave the street a homey feel. Her eyes sort of wandered toward the house he just walked into. The…

  “Aghhh!” She jumped in her seat when she realized the old woman was now standing next to her door, staring in the window. She was cute, tiny really, dressed in regulation grandma clothes of polyester pants and a sweatshirt with birds embroidered on it. The expression on her face was one of pure scrutiny. She was saying something? What was she saying?

  Moments of uncertainty passed as Jane’s head snapped forward, her eyes staring ahead. Now the lady was yelling something as evidenced by the muffled sound coming into the enclosed car. Her face inadvertently turned toward the sound as it appeared the woman was now using some form of sign language. Her hand was rotating in circles indicating that Jane should roll down the window.

  She shook her head and gave a shrug. “Get out of the car!” She heard that quite distinctly.

  Impossible. The car was locked from the inside. With a shake of her head, Jane indicated the door latch with her finger and gave a sheepish smile and another shrug. Just for good measure, she attempted to pull the lever on the door to no avail.

  Obviously the old woman was not about to give up, evidenced by the fact that her hands had made their way to her hips, her head was cocked to the side and her scowl was even more prominent on her weathered, wrinkled face.

  Just stare ahead. Don’t look at her. She’s still yelling at me. Oh, Pete – you asshole! This had to be the most uncomfortable thing ever. Worse than the strip club, even…Oh go away, old lady…She silently pleaded.

  As soon as he opened the front door, his eyes immediately attached themselves to the scene in front of him. Of all the stupid luck…

  “Leave her alone,” he stated as he walked up to the car.

  “I wait for how many years for you to bring a girl home and you bring this? She’s so dumb she can’t even open a car door!” Her skeletal finger pointed directly at Jane who had now decided to turn her head and shoot the most evil glare at him through the passenger side window.

  “Could you just go back inside? Is that too much to ask?”

  “Let her out of the car. I’d like to meet this dumbass,” she stated as she continued to stare at Jane.

  “I…Jeezus, Betty…could you just…look, if you don’t go back inside, I will pick you up and take you inside.”

  “If you touch me, I will scream and go bat-shit crazy and all of the neighbors will call the cops because that’s elder abuse. Now let her out of the car -”

  “I…” His hand immediately gripped the back of his neck as his head hung for a second before snapping up. “Fine,” he b
reathed out, pressing the button on the fob in his pocket before grabbing the door handle.

  “Just…don’t talk. I’ll introduce you, just…could you just, I don’t know…Do you think you could be…nice? For once?” He shot her a glance as his hand pulled then opened the door.

  “We’ll see.” Her arms folded in front of her chest as her eyes locked on Jane’s.

  “Come on out, I want you to meet someone,” he stated, but his voice sounded somewhat frustrated.

  Jane’s eyes were still fastened on the older woman as she cautiously stepped out of the vehicle.

  “You’re very skinny.”

  “Pardon me?”

  The woman’s ice blue eyes traveled up and down the length of Jane’s body before settling on her face. “Pretty too. You one of them gold diggers?”

  “Grandma!”

  “Don’t call me Grandma, Scooter!” she shot back.

  “Don’t call me Scooter,” he sighed before shaking his head.

  Scooter? For real?

  “Betty, this is Jane. Jane, this is Betty.”

  “Ahh…Hi, Betty,” Jane muttered nervously, her eyes flitting from the woman to Pete..er, Scooter. Just the thought made her want to snort.

  “Hi, Jane. You’re not the brightest thing, are you?” the older woman asked. Her face was so sweet; too bad her mouth was so incredibly rude. Jane’s eyes widened.

  “Betty, shut it. You just met her -”

  “It’s my dementia, I can’t help it.” A small smirk curved one side of her little wrinkled mouth as she continued to stare Jane down.

  “You don’t have dementia.” His eyes gave a slight roll before settling back on Jane. “Now, that we’re all acquainted -”

  “You have to introduce her to Karen.”

  “We were -” he started before she cut him off.

  “You never bring girls here. Ever. We all thought you were light in the loafers. For years! You need to introduce her to Karen.”

  “Grandma -”

  “Betty,” she corrected.

  “Whatever. It’s just…she’s just a friend…or better yet…a colleague. It’s not like we’re -”

  “She your fuck buddy?”

  “BETTY!” he roared.

  Jane’s mouth opened and dropped.

  “You don’t…where do you get this shit? Go inside.” He pointed toward the front door.

  “I know the score. I know how guys are these days. Milk for free, not buying the cow, I’m disappointed in you, Scooter. Don’t tell your Mother. You’ll kill her. She doesn’t need any more stress in her life. Bring your little ho in and pretend like she’s your girlfriend. Come on.” She flicked her wrist and started to walk toward the front door, obviously dismissing both of them.

  “Wha…what was that? Did she just call me a ho?” Jane breathed out, her eyes trained on the small woman as she obviously walked quite well without any need of the walker still situated on the front porch.

  “That’s you in about fifty years,” he breathed out. “You two should get along really well. She doesn’t have a filter either,” he stated with a serious expression on his face. She opened her mouth to argue before the old woman’s voice halted her.

  “Come on, I ain’t getting any younger!” Betty yelled from the front porch, not bothering to turn around and regard them.

  “There’s no way I’m going in that house,” Jane stared defiantly at the old woman’s back.

  “Trust me. I’d rather not either. It would look really weird if we just hopped in the car and left, though.”

  “That’s Ok with me.”

  “I can’t,” he sighed. “She looks…bad. Come on. Don’t ask any questions, be polite, never mind - let me do the talking.” He grasped her hand firmly and gave a slight tug.

  “Wait. Who’s Karen? What’s going on? Why are we here? How long do we have to stay?” she fired off as he continued to pull her toward the house.

  “Obviously you didn’t hear that ‘don’t ask any questions part’.”

  “Seriously.” She dug her feet in and stopped her body, causing him to turn around and breathe out an agitated sigh.

  “Karen is my Mother. She’s sick. Don’t stare. It’ll make her self-conscious. And don’t do any of that weird-ass fortune telling shit, can you handle that?” He gave another tug and she refused to budge.

  “What do you mean, don’t stare?”

  “Jane -”

  “Helllloooooo…” The old lady opened the glass storm door and stuck her head out. “She can’t walk either? Where do you find these girls?”

  “Grrrr.”

  “Don’t growl Jane. That’s not attractive. Let’s go.” Another more forceful tug on his part and finally her feet moved. The door swung open and she could feel Betty’s gaze on her as she walked into the small living room. Refusing to look at her, she scanned the room instead. Two fluffy couches, a large entertainment center and pictures. Everywhere. The shelves of the entertainment center were full of them. There was hardly a bare space on the wall opposite her from the sheer amount of photos in every size, every style of frame. One in particular caught her eye. It was larger than the rest. A young man in a military uniform stared back at her. He was wearing olive green his eyes looked too large for his face. His face was…

  “Hi, there,” the sound of another woman’s voice caused Jane’s eyes to swivel from the picture to the hallway near the corner of the room.

  “What are you doing out of bed? Mom…” he sounded concerned. She had never heard his voice exhibit anything other than sarcasm, exasperation or commanding order barking. It was strange. She didn’t have time to dwell on that as her eyes fastened, held, flitted away and back then held on to the woman standing near the hall, or rather, leaning against the wall.

  She was staring.

  He told her not to stare.

  The woman was what would be described as portly, dressed in an ill-fitting sweat suit of unflattering bright teal. Her hair was graying and sparse. Her face. Her…skin. She was yellow. Her skin tone had a distinct yellow tinge to it. Her eyes had heavy bags beneath them.

  She was definitely experiencing liver failure, Jane surmised from years of nursing study as she perused the woman closely. Too closely. She blinked then looked to her feet instead.

  “I’m Karen, and you are…?” she ignored Pete’s comment.

  “This is Jane, Mom and before you ask, we just work together.”

  “Is that what they call it now? Working together?” Betty threw in from behind them.

  “Shut it, Betty,” he growled under his breath.

  “Oh, does she work for the insurance agency?” Karen asked.

  The insurance agency? Jane’s head snapped up and her eyes caught and held Karen’s before her vision began to tunnel.

  “No Mom. Silent partners are just that…silent. She works for me.”

  “What does she do?”

  “Yeah, what does she do, Scooter?” Betty’s voice held the distinct tone of amusement.

  “I’m sorry; we must seem awfully rude talking about you as if you weren’t even here,” Karen stated as she offered a smile to Jane.

  “You haven’t been taking your meds,” Jane blurted out before quickly clamping a hand over her mouth.

  “What?” Karen’s eyes widened as she looked from Jane to Pete and back to Jane.

  “Jane…ah...she’s a nurse.” His hand was like a vice around her arm.

  “Oh, Joe! Honey, are you sick?” Karen seemed to ignore Jane’s outburst and concentrated on her son instead.

  “No! No Mom. She’s just…between jobs right now. She’s…helping me with my investments.”

  Joe. His name was Joe. For some reason, that seemed to fit much better than Pete. Or Scooter for that matter… She kept her hand over her mouth. She was absolutely fighting a mental battle to unclamp her lips and tell Karen that the reason she wasn’t taking her meds was because she wanted her son to visit her. She was feeling guilty as all get out and the emotion w
as rolling off of her in waves.

  “We have to get going,” Joe stated.

  “No! Oh please Joe, you just got here!”

  “Is she gonna barf?” Betty steeped to the side of Jane, eyeing her closely. Jane’s hand squeezed her face even more as the words fought to come out.

  “Would you excuse us? Please?” A firm tug and they were both outside. He continued down the steps and walked to the middle of the lawn before turning her toward him.

  “What the hell was that? What…” He grasped her hand and pulled it away from her face.

  “The reason she doesn’t take her medicine is because she wants an excuse for you to come and visit her, because you don’t, or not enough. She misses you so much. She hasn’t taken her meds in two days and she’s been mean to her nurse,” she squeaked out in rapid succession before taking a huge breath and calming immediately. “Whew!” she breathed out. He was staring at her with a dull expression before his head sort of shook slowly from side to side.

  “Could you just act normal for ten minutes?”

  “That was normal,” she countered blandly before her vision began to tunnel once again.

  “That was just…why are you staring at me?” She was. She was staring at him with the strangest expression on her face.

  “You can’t look at her. You don’t come around because you don’t want to see her like this. It makes you sad. You don’t know what else you can do for her -”

  “Jane, quit it. What’s gotten into you?”

  “See? I told you I would prove it -”

  “The only thing you’ve proven is that you’re a whack-job. A very perceptive whack-job; but a whack-job nonetheless. What am I supposed to do, huh? I can’t leave. I can’t stay – not if you’re going to keep up this crap.”

  “So let’s go.”

  A deep breath was followed by the hugest sigh as he looked from Jane to the door. The very occupied door. Betty was staring at him with a scowl etched on her face.