OUT OF THE BLUE

by Caroline Clemmons

  Some of the wariness left Bill’s face and he appeared to relax. He picked up a pen and held it over a piece of paper. “Give me names and dates.”

  Blossom rattled off the information and Bill took notes. Then he opened a drawer and displayed an array of documents. “This will take a few minutes.” He pointed to a spot in front of a screen and looked at Deirdre. “Stand on that X marked with tape.”

  She stood where he indicated

  “Look at me and smile.” He flashed a light at her.

  She blinked and walked back beside Blossom.

  Blossom leaned near and whispered. “That was a camera, dear, even though it’s not like mine. Bill took your photo for your driver’s license. I’ll explain all of this later.”

  Deirdre wanted to ask more questions, but decided to wait for Blossom’s details.

  Bill pointed to a lumpy, brown sofa then resumed pecking at his computer keyboard. “You ladies may as well have a seat. This takes a few minutes.”

  When Blossom and she sat, Deirdre thought their weight would send them through the springs to the floor. She poked some loose stuffing into a worn place on the sofa’s armrest. There were no lovely paintings on the wall as at Blossom’s home. And these walls were a dingy white.

  Soft drink cans and a half-empty bag of corn chips sat on the rickety table in front of them beside a stack of books. Deirdre would have expected Bill to live in a nicer place and to be older. This young man wasn’t much past the age of the teens she and Brendan had talked to yesterday.

  True to his word, Bill quickly produced several papers, dropped them into a large brown envelope, and held out his hand for payment.

  Blossom counted out a stack of paper money.

  Bill shoved the money into his pocket. “You’re all set to find a job.”

  Blossom thanked the young man then gave the envelope to Deirdre. “Come on, dear, we’re ready to go home.”

  In the car, Deirdre opened the envelope and examined the contents. She found a small shiny card that contained a likeness of her. “Sure and it looks just like me. Amazing.”

  Blossom tapped it with her finger. “The likeness of you is called a photograph even though it’s not like those I showed you at home. The card is a driver’s license.”

  She hoped Blossom didn’t expect her to guide a whizzing car. “Sure and I’ll not be driving, will I?”

  Blossom laughed. “Not yet, but you need it to show as photo identification.”

  Puzzled even more, Deirdre asked, “To whom?”

  “A surprising number of people.” Blossom patted her arm. “Never mind, dear. It’ll all become clear. After a few more days’ study, you can start work with me in the shop.”

  Deirdre sorted through a small card labeled Social Security and a diploma certifying she’d graduated from a Dallas high school in 1999. A birth certificate listed her name, her parents’ names, the correct month and day of her birth, but with 1981 as the year and Dallas, Texas as the birthplace.

  She clutched the documents to her. “I’m that beholden to you if these papers mean I can work in your shop. But after he cautioned us last night, what will your fine policeman son think of us now?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Brendan squared his shoulders and rang the bell.

  Mrs. Farris held the door wide for him. “Brendan, come in. How nice to see you.”

  In the few weeks since Larry’s death, his mother had become a shadow. It seemed to Brendan more gray streaked through her brown hair. Her tall, lean frame was thinner and slumped as if she were too fatigued to stand erect.

  Brendan had paid a condolence call as soon as the hospital released him, but it’d been over a week after Larry’s funeral. Embarrassed he hadn’t seen any of the Farris family since then, he wished he’d visited often. He’d stayed away because of guilt that he was alive while his friend had died, and the fear that his presence would remind his family of that fact.

  “How are you and Mr. Farris?”

  She made a fluttery gesture with her hands, letting one rest at her throat. “It’s been hard, but I’m sure you know that.”

  “Yes, it’s been difficult for me too.” He shook his head. “What a tragedy.”

  “We, we’re taking it a day at a time. Thank you for all you and your mother have done. It’s meant a lot.”

  His mother must have sent flowers and food in addition to the flowers he’d sent. He slid his arm around Mrs. Farris, wishing he could transfuse his strength to her. “I stopped by the office and learned that someone picked up Larry’s stuff.”

  She sniffed and nodded. “Walt picked up his brother’s belongings. None of us has had the courage to go through them yet.”

  “I’m determined to find out who murdered your son. Do you mind if I look through the stuff to see if there’s a clue?”

  Her pale eyes widened as she searched his face. “You don’t think it was a gang drive-by, do you?”

  “No, but I can’t prove it. At least, not yet. But I won’t stop until I find out who’s responsible.”

  His vow apparently accomplished one thing. Mrs. Farris straightened with new resolve and pushed a stray lock of hair from her face. She walked more like the woman he’d known before she lost her son. “The boxes are in the den.”

  Brendan followed her, trying not to dwell on all the times he’d come here with Larry. He’d been included in most family celebrations, and often Blossom accompanied him.

  Mrs. Farris pointed at two file storage boxes in a corner. “Why don’t you set those on the desk while you look through them. I don’t think I can watch.” She did the fluttery thing with her hands again. “It’s too soon. If-if there’s anything you want, you should have it.”

  Brendan lifted the boxes to the desk, but stood as he removed the first one’s lid. Sad that a good policeman’s career came down to two lousy file boxes. He sifted through, not knowing what he expected to find.

  The box contained coffee mugs, snacks, and what looked like the personal contents of his friend’s desk. Brendan read through Larry’s calendar and examined each scrap of paper. Nothing shed light on the reason for the murder. He returned everything to the first box.

  The second contained framed commendations and photos of Larry with family members. Brendan took a punch in the gut when he found a photo of Larry and him soon after they’d become partners. He stared at their faces, both laughing and looking as if they hadn't a care in the world.

  Lowering himself slowly to the desk chair, he recalled the day the photo had been taken. He swallowed hard against the pain of loss. Against the injustice of a world that allowed a fine man’s murder while the killers roamed free.

  In spite of his efforts, tears gathered in his eyes as he stared at the photo. “Damned if I’ll stop before I find the bastards who shot you.”

  Mrs. Farris stepped to the door. “Did you call me?”

  Quickly, he brushed a hand across his face. “Do you”—he cleared the sorrow’s lump from his throat—“Do you mind if I keep this photo of Larry and me?” He turned the photo toward her.

  “No, of course not. I-I’m sure he’d want you to have it. You were his best friend, but I guess you know that.”

  Brendan exhaled, wondering why he’d suddenly turned as sentimental as Larry. “Thanks.”

  Leaving the photograph out, he set everything else back into the container then returned both boxes to the corner spot in which he’d found them.

  Larry’s mom stood in the doorway, watching him with hope shining from her eyes. “Did you find anything?”

  He shook his head. “No, but don’t think it discourages me. I’ll keep searching until we know who was responsible.”

  “I can’t tell you how much better your visit has made me feel. The policemen who asked questions seemed so”—she fluttered her hands again—“well, as if they would be content to write it off as an unresolved gang shooting.”

  “I’m not so easily satisfied. I want the killers exposed and in jail.�
��

  She touched his arm as he passed. “Don’t give up on my boy, Brendan. Please don’t give up.”

  He offered her another hug. “I won’t. Someone will pay for killing Larry. It won’t bring him back, but those responsible won’t get away with his murder. You have my promise.”

  If it took the rest of his life, he’d find the sonsofbitches responsible.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Deirdre and Blossom had just opened the car’s trunk to unload their purchases when Brendan arrived.

  He peered at the result of their shopping. “Anything left in the stores?”

  Blossom lifted out a group of things left on hangers with a plastic cover protecting the fabric. “Now, son, remember Deirdre had to start from nothing. She’s a lovely woman and I wanted her to have all she needs.”

  He raised his eyebrows at his mom. “Yeah? Looks like you succeeded.” Then, he gathered up several bags.

  Deirdre bit her bottom lip as she picked up the remaining sacks, then said, “Sure and I know it’s a fearful lot, but Blossom insisted I’ll need it all.”

  He smiled at her. “I doubt she’ll be content to stop with these. Don’t worry, I can afford them.”

  She met his gaze. “So Blossom said, but I don’t like owing you and your mother so much. I’ve always earned me own way.”

  He shifted bags to open the door for her and Blossom. Prince barked and rushed to greet them.

  He said, “Things are different now. You’ll get used to this life.”

  She started to protest, but Blossom shot her a look that could only be interpreted as meaning her to keep her gob shut about the papers. So, she said only, “Thank you,” to Brendan for holding the door and helping carry in her new clothes. He had very nice manners when he chose to display them.

  Brendan scratched the dog’s ears, then headed for Deirdre’s room. Cathbad strolled up to Deirdre and twined around her legs. She set her purchases on the bed, then cuddled her cat before she set him down.

  When they’d carried in everything of Deirdre’s, Blossom turned to Brendan. “Would you also bring in the food from the back seat? I stopped by a deli and picked up our dinner.”

  When Brendan left, Blossom said, “I think you should let me tell him about your papers after we eat.”

  “Whatever you say, but I’m thinking he’s going to be that angry with us he won’t let me use them.”

  Blossom patted her arm. “Don’t worry, dear. I know my son. Now, I’m going to wash my hands and then set the table. I made the tea before we left and it’s in the refrigerator.”

  “I’ll help.” Deirdre went into the bathroom off her bedroom to wash her hands and freshen up.

  In only a few days, she’d become accustomed to the convenience of plumbing. She could hardly believe she’d spent her life carrying water for cooking and cleaning. The shower was nice, but she most appreciated not having to use a chamber pot or the privy to relieve herself. Traipsing to the privy behind the cottage was dangerous if any one intended her harm, and she hated the nasty job of scouring the chamber pot each day.

  When she came into the kitchen, Blossom was setting the table while Brendan unpacked the containers of food.

  He opened one. “Looks like that chicken salad I like.” Lifting the tops of two more, he added, “Hmm, all my favorites. What have you been up to, Mom?”

  Blossom waved her hand. “We were tired and thought this would make for a quick dinner. I suspect you’re hungry too. What did you do today?”

  He flashed Deirdre an odd look. “Checked a few hunches. Then I visited Mrs. Farris to see if there were any clues in the stuff from Larry’s office.”

  Deirdre asked, “Were there?”

  “No. His mother gave me a photo of Larry and me taken together. That’s about it.”

  Blossom patted his shoulder. “You’ll figure out who’s responsible, dear. I know you can do it.”

  Looking surprised, he said, “Thanks. I figured you thought it a waste of time. Apparently everyone does, except the Farrises.”

  She stopped in the midst of her preparations and stared at her son. “Who thinks trying to find killers is a waste of time?”

  “Looks as if everyone at the station thinks it was a gang related drive-by that will never be resolved.”

  Remembering the phone call from the previous day, Deirdre watched him closely. “What do you think?”

  “I think we were set up, but I can’t figure out who or why. But I will.” He looked at her, his suspicions evident.

  He still didn’t believe her about her visions, that much he made clear. That meant he still thought she had something to do with his friend’s death.

  She sighed in frustration. Meeting his gaze, she put her hand on his arm. “I believe you’ll find those responsible.”

  He put his hand over hers. “Do you? That’s nice to know.” His touch was warm and strength radiated from him. She wished he trusted her as she did him. Sliding her hand away, she said, “But I hope you’ll take care.”

  “I’m always cautious, but you can believe I’m taking extra care now.”

  Blossom poured the third glass of tea and set it at her place. “Shall we eat?”

  ***

  “You what?” Brendan stood and shouted at his mother.

  They’d finished their meal and were in the living room. He held a television schedule in his hands.

  “Now, son, calm down. There was no other solution.”

  “No other solution?” He threw the television guide onto the couch. “How about obeying the law for a change? Millions of people do that on a daily basis.”

  “You know I try to be law abiding, but this is an extraordinary circumstance. Deirdre is a prisoner because of events beyond her control. I had to help her, son. Surely you can see that?”

  “No, I don’t see! What the hell kind of a thing is this for a policeman’s mother?”

  Blossom’s usually cheerful face displayed anger. “So what do you plan to do, arrest me?”

  “Damned if I shouldn’t.”

  Stepping forward, Blossom said, “I’ve tried to teach you that the person is most important. Laws are supposed to protect us, but they’re too broad. Some situations—like Deirdre’s—require individual solutions.”

  “Yeah? You keep this up and we’ll all three find out how the law deals with criminals. Is that what you’re after?” Without waiting for an answer, he turned to Deirdre. “What do you have to say about this?”

  She stood straight and tall as she faced him. “It’s shamed I am we’ve gone against you, Brendan. But answer me this—if our positions were exchanged and it was you in my place, would you be content to let Blossom and me provide for you, living as a parasite on the generosity of others?”

  When he opened his mouth, apparently to protest, she held up her hand to stop him. “Sure and I thank the saints it was you found me and not some scoundrel who’d take advantage of me confusion. I’m that grateful for every kindness you and Blossom have shown me. But think of how you’d feel in me place.”

  “How the hell would I know? I can tell you one thing, I damn sure wouldn’t go behind the back of the guy who fished me out of the water, the guy sworn to uphold the law, and pay some forger to fake ID papers.”

  Blossom acted angry for the first time since Deirdre had known her. “Son, if you have to blame someone, direct your anger at me. She’s right, and you know it. You wouldn’t stand for being a permanent houseguest for the rest of your life.”

  “Think not?” He raked a hand through his hair. “Your latest trick could cost me my job. Hell, it could make us all permanent houseguests of the government. Maybe you and Deirdre can share a cell.”

  “Son, it won’t come to that and you know it.” Blossom poked her finger at Brendan’s chest. “What’s right is right, even if the law has to bend a little. Laws are supposed to protect the innocent, and that’s Deirdre.”

  “Innocent? Not since you helped her with fake papers. Thanks to yo
u, she’s a criminal and could go to jail. You think that’s protecting her?”

  “Better than your way. And we won’t go to jail unless you turn us in.”

  “I can’t believe the two of you did this after I specifically asked you not to.” His hands balled into fist, opened, then fisted again. “Aw, hell, why do I even try? Come on, Prince, we’re going for a walk.” He stomped out of the house with Prince at his heels.

  Deirdre watched him go then turned to Blossom. “Oh, what have we done?”

  “He’ll come around, don’t worry. He’s a good man, but he’s not flexible. He’ll have to think about it for an hour or two.” She picked up the tossed schedule. “Shall we see what’s on TV tonight?”

  Much as Deirdre admired Blossom, she regretted the rift the forged papers had caused. She couldn’t help but think that if a fine man like Brendan were her son, she wouldn’t defy him. She longed to rush after him and apologize again.

  Then, she remembered her own guilt in the matter. If she chased after him, what would she say? Sure and she’d known she was doing wrong, hadn’t she? Aye, and went ahead to obtain the precious means to her freedom.

  Filled with remorse and doubt, she dropped onto her favorite blue armchair. Was she a terrible person then, willing to trick a good man and break the law to have her own way? Yes, she’d been selfish. The sorrow for her was in knowing she’d do it again.

  The price of freedom cost dear, not only in the money Blossom had handed over, but also in Deirdre’s own self-respect.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brendan scooped up a rock from the beach and threw it with all his force. It skipped across the water before it sank. The envelope of coins rustled in his pocket. His anger at his mother’s perfidy combined with his guilt for his own snooping.

  Prince brought him a stick and he tossed if for his dog to retrieve. Prince bounded joyfully after his prize and returned for a rematch. His dog loved the time they spent at the lake. Usually Brendan did too. He dropped onto a boulder and watched the sun sink behind the Palo Pinto Mountains.