by N. C. Reed
He stared out his window for a long time, mulling over these and other things. It was not until the butler came to announce dinner that he stirred from it.
He was no closer to an answer than he had been when he began.
-
“Nervous?” Meredith asked as she and Lincoln prepared to make their way to the doctor's office for his surgery.
“No, not at all,” Lincoln snorted, waving away her comment. She could tell he was bothered though.
“Linc, it will be okay,” she soothed carefully.
“Course it will,” he nodded absently as he adjusted his collar. “He's supposed to be the best doctor at this sort of thing anywhere. No sweat. He does this kind of thing all the time, right?”
“Right,” Meredith fought down a small smile at Linc's attempt to convince himself by convincing her that everything would be fine.
Dressed and ready, the two exited their cabin and ventured to the galley where Faulks was waiting. Jessica had offered to prepare breakfast, but Linc wasn't allowed to eat before surgery and Meredith wouldn't eat until he could. Faulks had made do with cereal and fruit that had been bought fresh in the local market and was now dressed and ready herself.
“We'll be back when we get back I guess,” Meredith informed Jessica. “Please keep a com unit handy in case we need your assistance,” she added.
“Will do,” Jess promised, then looked at Linc.
“Cheer up old timer!” she grinned. “Once this is over you might be almost as good a pilot as I am!”
“You youngsters think you know so much,” Linc mock sneered, then gave the girl a brief hug of thanks for trying to cheer him up. “Thanks kid.”
“You're welcome,” she smiled up at him. “I'm sure you'll be good to go in no time.”
“Sure,” he nodded.
With that the three of them set out. It was a half-hour walk to the office but spacers as a rule preferred to walk when dirt-side. Probably because they didn't get to see much real estate in the course of their jobs, or maybe because of the relatively fresh air. Either way the three of them made good time while enjoying the freedom of comparatively wide open spaces.
Once they arrived, it was only a brief wait before Lincoln was called back. Meredith was allowed to accompany him to a smaller waiting room, where Lincoln left her to be prepared for his surgery. While he was going through that, Meredith was briefed by a nurse on the aftercare that Lincoln would require once his surgery was over.
Faulks opened a reader she had brought with her and began to read, waiting for her Captain and Pilot to return.
-
Back on the ship Jessica prepared breakfast for her and Sean, wondering where Tony was.
“Times like this I miss Tony more than ever,” she told the engineer as she put the simple fare she had prepared on the table.
“This is just fine,” he told her, nodding his appreciation. “You're a good cook, Jess.”
“Aw, I'm sure you say that to all the girls,” she blushed slightly as she joked. “I appreciate it, but I'm not a chef.”
“You're no slouch either,” he shrugged. “I'll take your cooking over mine any day.”
“I wonder where Tony is?” Jess mused aloud between bites.
“I'm sure he's into something,” Sean said carefully. “He'll probably show up as soon as the real work's done,” he added, trying to sound mirthful but failing.
“Something happened between you two, didn't it?” Jess said plainly and Sean looked at her.
“What makes you say that?” he asked calmly.
“Just a feeling,” she shrugged. “You're jumpy and he's not here and hasn't been for two days.”
“I'm not jumpy,” Sean protested mildly.
“Wrong word,” she agreed. “More like antsy. Not worried but still chewing on something that happened. That kind of thing.”
Sean pondered that as he ate, realizing that the girl was closer to the mark than she probably realized.
“Do you think that will keep him from coming back?” Jess asked him a minute later.
“What?”
“Do you think that the two of you having trouble will keep Tony from coming back?” she asked again. “I'd hate to think we had to rely on our own cooking,” she added dryly and not really joking.
“I'm sure he'll be back if it suits him,” Sean was non-committal. “I think he's got his com with him if you want to give him a call,” he added after a minute.
“Why don't you call him?” she asked.
“Got nothin' to say to him, or ask him,” Sean shrugged. “He'll be back or he won't. His decision either way. Not my business.”
“I thought you two were friends,” she raised an eyebrow at that.
“We just work together,” Sean shrugged again. “He'll do what he pleases, when he pleases. That much you can count on.”
-
“Can I take any hope from your still being here that you may stay?” Jerome asked Tony over breakfast that morning.
“I don't know,” he admitted. “I don't think so, but I'm still working on it. It's not that I don't want to be here with you guys, but. . .if I stay, I'll fall into the same rut that I was in when I left. I'd rather not be that guy if I can help it.”
“I understand,” his father nodded. “Still, if you know what your weaknesses are, you can work to keep them at bay. We can help you do this,” he reminded his son.
“For a while,” Tony nodded slowly. “But sooner or later it would happen. And I kinda like what I'm doing to be honest,” he admitted. “I get to travel a lot and see a lot of different places. I'm running with a good group, too.”
“You have good friends,” Jerome nodded. “Will Galen be visiting us again before your ship departs?”
“I doubt it,” Tony said carefully. “He's not really that sociable,” he added, careful not to look at his sister when he spoke. He heard her huff in annoyance anyway, but chose to pretend he hadn't.
“I understand he has led a difficult life,” his father nodded. “That can make one unsociable I'm sure.”
“He has had a tough road,” Tony nodded absently, thinking back to Sean's story. “Anyway, I guess I need to at least visit the ship and see if I still have a job after all this. And I want to check on Lincoln,” he added. “I'm hoping this will help him. He's a good guy.”
“Do they need assistance with paying for his treatment?”
“I don't think so, and it would be hard to get them to take it even if they did,” Tony shook his head slowly. “They both retired from the Commonwealth Navy and draw a pension. They probably have insurance that will cover his treatment, whatever it is. If not then if they need it I'll see that it's covered. Maybe scrounge up a good cargo heading out when they're ready to leave.”
“You guys carry passengers too, or just cargo?” Lucia asked. “I never thought to even ask how big the ship was,” she added thoughtfully.
“We can carry a few passengers but we don't make a habit of it,” Tony said, so eager for a change in subject away from Galen that he didn't think about his sister's question. “Mostly it's cargo though. We picked up a line on a new contract last time out that may become a regular thing for us, I don't know. I'd miss going from place to place, but a regular run would make it easier to plan things and make for more steady pay I guess,” he shrugged.
“Nice,” Lucia feigned disinterest, and again Tony was so intent on changing the subject that he didn't catch it.
“Will you be having dinner with us?” his mother spoke for the first time since sitting down. “It would be nice if you could visit with us while you are here. We'll be dining late I should imagine.”
“I'll be back for dinner, even if I have to quit,” he promised. “Might be the best thing for me anyway.”
His parents exchanged covert glances at that but said nothing. Before anyone else could speak, Marisa came to Antonia's chair.
“Pardon, Dona, but the police detective from yesterday has returned. He is in t
he foyer at present and insists he must see the two of you,” she looked at Jerome.
“What now?” Jerome grumbled as he got to his feet. “That was supposed to be taken care of.” He extended a hand to his wife and the two walked together to find the officious looking police detective lieutenant waiting for them.
“Detective,” Jerome's voice was cold and formal. “What brings you here?”
“I'm afraid I have some bad news for you, sir. Ma'am,” the detective didn't sound a bit sorry. “Your son, Roberto, was found murdered this morning in a small hotel near the Port Authority. While we don't know at the moment exactly what happened, we did recover a weapon at the scene that matches one of the weapons used in the kidnapping of your daughter two days ago. I'm afraid it's possible that the same people who committed that act may well be responsible for his death,” he reported without a trace of real remorse.
Antonia looked stricken and made her way to a small couch along the hallway wall, Jerome assisting her as she sat down heavily on the small sofa.
“Are you all right?” he asked gently. She nodded without speaking, burying her head in her hands. Jerome sat with her for a minute before rejoining the detective.
“If you manage to discover who was responsible for this I would appreciate very much knowing who it was,” he said formally, his face and voice revealing the strain he was under.
“We'll handle this, Mister Delgado,” the detective took relish in saying.
“I'm sure you will,” Jerome nodded absently, appearing to be in shock. “I would simply like to know why this was done. All of it. While our family has in the past been associated with many problems, this has not been true for the last two generations. I can only imagine that this is, or was, an attempt to extort money from us. Either that or some kind of very old vendetta. Such a thing would have to date back to my grandfather perhaps, however. I do not understand what anyone would hope to gain by this.”
Taken aback by the older man's reaction the detective nodded.
“I'll forward whatever we learn to you,” he agreed in what he would later describe as a moment of weakness. “I'm sorry for your loss,” he added, sounding as if he meant it this time.
“Thank you,” Jerome nodded. “And thank you for coming in person to notify us.”
“Sir,” the man nodded curtly and then allowed the butler to show him out. Once he was gone, Jerome counted to ten before looking to his wife.
“So,” he said simply.
“Indeed,” she nodded, seemingly recovered from her 'shock'. Jerome extended his arm to her and the two returned to finish breakfast with two of their three remaining children.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
-
“What did the cop want?” Tony asked as his parents returned to the dining room.
“I'm afraid we have had bad news,” Jerome said solemnly for Lucia's benefit. She alone was not aware of Roberto's part in her kidnapping ordeal. “Roberto left the mansion two nights ago and has not been heard from since. The police located his body this morning in a small hotel near the Port. He had been murdered.” He said it softly but didn't try otherwise to lessen the blow. There was no point.
“How did he die?” Lucia asked, far too calmly.
“The police did not share that information as they are not yet certain what happened,” Antonia replied softly. “They will let us know as they find out more.”
“Was it because of me?” Lucia asked carefully.
“I do not believe so,” Jerome told her. “In fact, what happened to you may more likely be blamed upon him,” he sighed, sitting down heavily. “I have labored for some time, years in fact, to rid this family of certain practices that I found. . .distasteful. Your brother took it upon himself to involve us in those practices once more behind my back. It is likely that all of this business, including your ordeal, are linked to his dirty dealings.”
“What?” Lucia looked stricken. “You mean. . .I mean Elena was killed. . .all those others too. . .” she trailed off, not knowing what to say. Her face showed first her shock, then betrayal and finally anger. Almost rage in fact.
“Are you certain of this, Poppa?” she asked calmly, her voice icy.
“I'm afraid so, my child,” Jerome nodded. “I have a good bit of evidence of his dealings. Discovered since he left the mansion two nights ago. Before you were found, in fact,” he added.
“That low life son-of-a-”
“Lucia!” Jerome's sharp voice cracked across the table. “You will not invoke your mother's name nor our marital status at the time he was conceived in cursing him for his stupidity or his role in your ordeal!” he ordered. For a moment, no one at the table spoke or even moved.
Antonia was the first to chuckle slightly at the way Jerome had worded his demanded. Her hand flew to her mouth as she tried to catch herself, but the sound had already escaped. Across from her Lucia actually smiled, then giggled, her own hand mimicking her mother's as she tried to cover it up.
Tony laughed outright though subdued and finally Jerome chuckled heavily, unable to prevent it. Soon all four were laughing aloud, the first time any of them had done so in the last forty-eight hours.
Lucia now knew that her brother was responsible for what happened to her, thought not to what extent. It was enough for now and when things had settled down her parents would tell her the rest. The fact that Elena's death was not on her shoulders was enough to ease her conflict for now and her parents would let her enjoy that time before giving her the rest of the details.
Jerome wondered if knowing that Galen had been the one to kill Roberto in retaliation for what he had done would be enough to turn Lucia away from pursing him, or if it would merely endear the assassin to her even more.
With his daughter, much like her mother, there was never any way to know for sure.
-
“I need a favor, mamma.”
“Never have those words ended well, my daughter,” Antonia's eyebrows rose as she examined Lucia.
They were in Antonia's office, their meal long behind them. While the house was officially in a state of mourning for Roberto's demise, there was very little actual mourning occurring at the moment. Or at all for that matter.
“It's not that kind of favor,” Lucia rolled her eyes, taking a seat before her mother's desk. “Well, maybe it is,” she semi-conceded.
“And what would this favor entail?” her mother asked warily.
Lucia briefly explained what she needed.
“And why would I do this?” Antonia wondered. “When we have our own-”
“I need it to be this way,” Lucia shook her head. “And it's not that big a deal, is it?” she tilted her head as she looked at her mother.
“What are you up to Lucia?” Antonia asked outright.
“Well. . . .”
-
Meredith looked up when Doctor Bernard came back into the small waiting area. The smile on his face eased her dread a bit but only a bit.
“Everything went fine,” he said at once, taking a seat next to her. “The cataract was small and rather than replace the lens, something we don't like to do at his age, we were able to simple polish it away. His eye will be irritated for a week to ten days probably, give or take. He'll need to wear a patch over his eye for six days and I'll give you drops for his eye that need to be administered three times daily. There will also be a small tube of ointment I want you to try and apply the first three nights, starting tonight, to keep the area hydrated. I'll want to see him back in ten days to examine how well he's healing. Assuming everything is normal, I'll brief your ship's medic on how to treat him and what signs to look for if there's a problem and you should be able to ship out then. He can always com me if there's a question.”
“Will he need to return for any follow-ups past the ten-day checkup?” Meredith asked.
“Probably not,” Bernard shook his head. “If he does, I'll know it then and be able to tell. It's possible that we'll need to see him again in a week, as
suming that he hasn't healed well or some other problem develops with his vision, but I really don't expect that. This is a fairly routine surgery and he came through it just fine. All we have to do now is get him through the recovery and he should be good as new.”
“Thank you, Doctor Bernard,” Meredith smiled. “I appreciate it.”
“No problem, it's what I do,” he smiled. “Now, you can find him in room three. He should be ready to go by the time you get there. My nurse will show you the way.”
Following the younger woman to the designated room, Meredith found Lincoln listening to another nurse fill him in on his treatment. She looked at Meredith.
“Did Doctor Bernard fill you in on his treatment schedule?” she asked.
“Drops three times daily and ointment at night for three nights and later as needed to hydrate his eyes,” Meredith nodded. “Followup in ten days for an exam.”
“Keep wearing the patch until then,” the nurse nodded. “Sign here, please,” she indicated the area on her pad for Meredith to sign. She scrawled her name with the stylus, receiving an electronic transfer of the orders to her own pad seconds later.
“And you're all set!” the nurse smiled. “We'll see you in ten days Mister Simmons.”
“Okay,” Lincoln nodded, his demeanor somewhat more subdued than normal. Meredith guided him to the waiting room where Faulks jumped to her feet, stowing her reader and taking his other side.
“Back to the ship?” she asked Meredith.
“Yes,” Meredith nodded.
“Let's get something to eat first,” Lincoln protested. “Remember I didn't eat last night.”
“All right,” Meredith was reluctant but agreed. Soon enough the three of them were seated indoors at a small cafe. Any other time they would have sat outside, but Lincoln was still light sensitive.
“You know they keep you awake for it,” he said suddenly, drawing the two women's attention.
“What?”
“For the surgery,” Lincoln told her. “They don't put you to sleep. You have to stay awake and keep your eyes open while they work on your eye. It's more than a little creepy,” he admitted.
