by Lee Perry
After the Life Flight helicopter left with Cathy and she waited for the coroner to remove Chelsea’s body from the kitchen, Alex found herself barely able to function. Cameron stood screaming in his crib until her parents arrived three hours later, and through it all, Alex could only sit and stare as her mind played and replayed the image of that huge hand grabbing her and effortlessly throwing her on the sofa, the finger jabbing the words at her, “You’re in too deep, get back to work.” The horrific image of Cathy and Chelsea lying in dark pools of their own blood on the floor, then her mind would run the scenes again, like a tape on a loop, over and over. As police searched the house and Alex lay in her dark bedroom, the loop began to play faster and faster until her father quietly entered and said an FBI agent had offered to drive her to the hospital to see Cathy. It wasn’t until she sat in the back of the agent’s quiet car, driving along the dark roads that the horrible images slowed and finally she was left with only the memory of the hand, reaching for her.
She was in trouble and she knew it, If only I had never returned the call... if only I’d referred Roland for the job... if only… if only… Alex balled her hands into fists as she paced the room. The initial job order was so simple; it was legal and above board and Rossi, who initially introduced himself as Bruno DeAgostini, didn’t even blink at Alex’s contract bid which was a lot higher than it should have been. Alex had been in a testy mood that morning and didn’t want yet another crappy, small potatoes email security program to tweak so she had flippantly and arbitrarily quoted a price that was at least four times higher than it should have been. Rossi should have balked at the price, but he didn’t even hesitate, he just handed the unsigned contract back to Alex and said, “There’s no need for such formality.” He handed Alex a thick stack of fifty crisp hundred-dollar bills, “I find straightforwardness much more efficient, don’t you?” Alex was speechless, much like Anthony Rossi had been when Alex produced the new security program and installed it remotely the very next day. Then she had pompously told the man not to hesitate to call if he needed anything else. I should have said I wouldn’t do any more without a signed contract, he would have said no and I wouldn’t be here… and this wouldn’t be happening. Alex thought nothing of the initial job order and suspected nothing when she was told the program she was tweaking was actually for ‘a friend and business associate’, a liquor distributor who was only trying to modernize the way he monitored his inventory. What a load of bullshit that turned out to be… she lamented silently.
Dejectedly, she dropped onto the sofa that had recently held her in such terror and covered her face with her hands, What am I supposed to do now? she wailed silently, feeling sick. Rossi had come to her again, with another small work order for the same business associate and again, he handed over a thick stack of bills, making a joke about how cash transactions simplified life, and winked broadly at her. The work order involved forwarding the business associate’s emails in blind forwards directly to Rossi, Blind to the business associate. He said he owned that business… and wanted to keep clandestine track of all the electronic deposits... A sob escaped her lips and she pressed them tightly together, I never broke the law before…
When he approached her again with more work he brought an assistant, a thin young man with heavy-lidded eyes who simply held out a laptop with the program Alex installed for the liquor distributor, “We need the accounting software on here to let us make two sets of books, Miz Sparrow…” He had smiled warmly, “one file for the inventory we report to the IRS, and another we keep just for us… a private one that only we can see.” He handed over a brown paper bag of cash and said, “It’d mean a lot to me if you could get this done… would twenty grand be enough?”
Alex shook her head dejectedly from side to side, Twenty thousand dollars… in cash, that didn’t have to be reported to the IRS. In a way, it was a dream come true for Alex. She knew she and Cathy could have grown their business into a sizable corporation, but Cathy’s dream was to work from home and have a family while what Alex really wanted was independence from the responsibility of having to answer to anyone for anything. She didn’t want power or to be in charge, she wanted to be left alone to do what she wanted, and she had quickly spent her income from the Rossi work orders on Chanel suits and jewelry she hid from Cathy. Coastanoa told her to get back to work on the new security and snoop programs but she couldn’t; every time she pulled up the program specifics of what they wanted her to create her heart would pound wildly. Feeling faint, she would quickly close the file, struggling against an overwhelming urge to cry and vomit. Everything they want is beyond illegal…
The next time she met with Rossi and his ‘assistant’, she tried to tell him she wanted to work for him, but she didn’t want to do anything illegal. “Everything you’ve done for me is illegal, Miz Sparrow…” She felt the blood from draining from her face, and both men had smiled triumphantly, “It won’t matter how loud you scream your innocence, once you’re identified as having done business with Anthony Rossi, you will do jail time… Maybe not a lot of time, and it maybe in one of those nice, white-collar prisons… But it will certainly change you for the rest of your life…” Alex suddenly looked confused and the broad, heavyset man reintroduced himself; “My name is actually Anthony Rossi,” his grin took years off his heavy features, “look me up.”
She did look him up; as soon as she got home from ‘her lunch with a client’, she googled Anthony Rossi and spent the remainder of the day locked in her home office, terrified, as she read articles about the Rossi organized crime family and the many murders they were suspected of committing; the homicides topping long lists of offenses. However, Alex liked to shop, and within days she was approached again, this time in a parking garage where Rossi sat in her car, handing her printed sheets of programs he wanted her to create for his ‘various businesses.’ He wants to hack freely into ‘business associate’s’ servers and siphon money from their bank accounts, “Hey,” he had grinned amicably, “if some fuckin’ fourteen-old Russian kid can skim a dollar and a dollar there from people’s checking accounts around the world and make millions, we should too, you know?”
She tried to appease him, providing one more program then again tried to sever her ties to Anthony Rossi. Just like Coastanoa said… I was in too deep. The room tilted at a nauseating angle and she again closed her eyes, Dear god, how fucking naive…
A loud knock at the front door made her jump and she yelped aloud in fright. Jesus H. Christ, Alexandra, she thought reproachfully, get a freaking grip on yourself. She was still shaking when she rose from her place on the sofa and walked quietly to the door, squinting through the lace curtain on the side window. A young-looking man with shaggy, collar-length hair and wearing a red and white-striped shirt, smoothly pressed jeans and holding a pizza box waited outside the door. She stepped back from the curtain, trying desperately to decide whether or not she had ever seen this pizza delivery boy before, “Who is it?”
“Pizza delivery.”
Alex felt sweat begin to bead on her upper lip and she wiped it away with a knuckle, “I didn’t order pizza.”
“I know, one of your neighbors is just trying to be nice, Miz Sparrow.”
Alex released the breath she’d been holding and stepped to the door, opening it, “Thank you...” Smiling graciously, if a little shakily, she took the box, “can you tell me who sent it?”
“They wanted to be anonymous, but,” the young man squeezed his eyes shut in concentration, trying to remember what he was instructed to say, “but they wanted to… to express their regrets.”
“Oh, well, tell them thank you very much.” She placed the box on a side table, “Hang on while I get my wallet…”
“Oh no,” he waved her off, “don’t need a tip… that’s okay.”
Alex thanked him again, noting how one of the agents watched surreptitiously from the corner of the building, and shut the door. She took the pizza into the kitchen and set it on the table. Carefu
l to keep her eyes averted from the floor her mother had just scrubbed clean; she took an empty glass sitting on the counter and grabbed a can of diet soda from the fridge. She set the soda and glass on the table and grabbed a paper towel before lifting the lid to the pizza box. It wasn’t until she had a slice in her hand that she realized the pizza was stone cold. Disgustedly, she threw it back in the box, “Thank god I didn’t tip him…” she muttered aloud.
She rose from the chair and was closing the lid when she noticed something in the space where she removed the slice, and when she lifted the corner of another adjacent slice she felt her heart come to a sudden, freezing stop in her chest. It was an envelope. A white, business-sized envelope with ALEX printed on it. Her heart began to pound fearfully in her chest again; the loud pounding filled her ears as she moved slices of pizza to the lid of the box and stood, staring down at it. With a shaking hand, she picked up the envelope and carefully tore open the flap; inside was a single sheet of paper, folded in thirds, the neatly printed message was brief and to the point:
You are being watched.
Your phones have been tapped.
They think you did it.
Do your work, be patient.
Make sure nobody testifies and we will protect you.
New York City, NY
“Oh, and Tommy the Tech set up the trap on the broadband traffic to the Sparrow house too.”
“Okay, he was a little slow on the uptake there.”
“I know, but he says he can back-hack whatever we need and…” Don’s voice faded for a moment, “There, he also dumped both Cathy and Alex Sparrow’s phone logs into an attachment I just forwarded to you.”
“Okay,” Jordan stretched in the car seat, “I’m on my way back to the hospital… I imagine I’ll be there till tonight again unless something comes up.”
“We’re not gonna’ interview Alex again today?”
“No,” she shook her head, “whether she’s complicit in this or not, she did lose a child and almost lost her wife in this. RICO got us all the surveillance we need at the moment; I’m okay with letting her have today, at least.”
“Okay, I’ll be here in the office creating a printed record of all this stuff.”
“How fun for you...” Jordan said dryly, smiling when she heard him laugh and hung up.
Dr. Yin gave her hand a squeeze, “You will get better...” she said with quiet confidence, giving Cathy’s arm a pat and left the room. The nurse, Danielle, quietly brought her a bedpan,
“I imagine you’ll want to switch to this now and not have to wear those diapers anymore.” Her smile was gentle as she deftly removed and wadded the incontinence pad, “I’ll be right back.” She left the room so her patient could empty her bladder in private.
Squeezing her eyes tightly closed in concentration, Cathy focused on starting her urine flow. She released a shaky breath and poured all of her energy into filling the pan, surprised at how much mental and physical energy was required for such a simple task. She lifted a shaking hand to the large gauze pads covering her throat. She had listened intently while Dr. Yin explained her injury and what was done to repair it. I’m sure she explained it as simply as possible… She swallowed reflexively and her body stiffened painfully in the bed.
Danielle came back in the room, “All done?”
Still clutching at her throat, Cathy’s nod was barely noticeable.
“You tried to swallow?” Cathy nodded again and Danielle looked deeply into her eyes, “It’s going to feel weird for a while. Remember Doctor Yin said you have a stint, like a small cast, in your throat protecting that cartilage until it heals.” She pulled the filled bedpan out from under her, “Now…” she said as she walked briskly to the connecting bathroom to empty and flush the contents of the pan, “when I finish up here we’re gonna get you cleaned up for the day then start working on getting that swallow reflex back…” She washed out the bedpan and placed it on the lower shelf of the nightstand. “Doctor Yin said she was backing off on your pain medication so you’ll be more awake and feel less groggy…” She busied herself with preparing a sponge bath and returned to her side with the small pan of water, washcloth and soap. “But,” she paused in her brisk lathering of the cloth, “You must call me immediately if the pain becomes too much for you Cathy, understand?” Cathy nodded, distantly admiring the way Danielle stripped off the gown she wore under the covers, preserving her dignity. “Pain will only slow down your recovery…”
And I need to get better for Cameron…
“And your son needs you…” Gently methodical, Danielle washed Cathy's petite form, “I said this before, but now that you’re more awake I want to say how sorry I am about your daughter…” She paused for a moment to lay a soft sympathetic hand on her arm, “I am so sorry she’s gone…” Cathy’s eyes brimmed with tears. “But you have to remember she is not lost to you…” She moved to the other side of the bed and repeated the bathing process. “She’ll be with you…” she quietly assured her, “always.” Cathy watched her in silence. “And while you’re here, Cathy… we are gonna get you back on your feet so you can get back home to your son, right?” Cathy nodded. “Good, so that means… and I know this will be hard, but you have to stay calm, and let the medicine work and help your body to heal and get strong again.”
Jordan spoke quietly to the two agents sitting outside Cathy’s room. The twenty-four hour protective detail sat on plastic chairs on either side of the door and as she expected, they told her nothing of consequence occurred during the night and she thanked them before slipping inside the curtained, sliding glass door.
“Agent Hawkins…” Danielle turned to her, her hands parked authoritatively on her hips, “You know the rules; you’re supposed to call for entry.”
“Sorry…” Jordan held up her hands in apology and surrender, “I’ll just sit here in the corner until you’re done.”
“Well,” Danielle sighed expressively, “as it happens we are finished,” she turned to regard Cathy, “for now. You did really well...” she assured her patient, gathering the remains of the liquefied breakfast of melted ice chips and applesauce.
Cathy looked exhausted, but she managed a weak thumbs-up. Danielle had raised the bed and stuffed pillows behind until she sat up. Beginning with rapidly melting ice chips, she taught Cathy The Supraglottic Swallowing Method; “Take a deep breath and hold it… now put the ice chip on the back of your tongue, turn your head a little to the left, towards your surgery side, tuck your chin and swallow… Bear down on it if you have to… Now cough before you breathe in to clear your airway…” Jesus… Cathy sagged limply against the stacked pillows behind her, how can something so simple be so exhausting?
“You want to stay sitting up for a while?” Cathy nodded and Danielle gave her a stern look, “Alright… you call me if you need me.” She gave her leg a final pat as she departed and Jordan rose slowly from the chair.
She took off her jacket and draped it over the back of the chair, leaving her tablet and phone on the seat and approached the bed. “Hello,” she spoke quietly, “you were understandably out of it last night so I’ll introduce myself again,” She held out her bureau ID, “My name is Jordan Hawkins, I am a Special Agent for the FBI…” She paused, surprised when Cathy reached out to take her wallet. She waited while she closely examined the badge and picture ID. “I work for the Organized Crime Division…” Her voice faded briefly when she saw the look of devastation in Cathy Sparrow’s eyes. She handed the wallet back and Jordan noted how the red-rimmed eyes flashed briefly on the gun resting on her hip. “The man who shot you and your daughter was identified by fingerprints he left on the door handles on the front and back doors of your house.” Jordan watched her face carefully for reaction but all she saw was grief. “His name is Ed Coastanoa and he works for the Rossi crime family.” No recognition flashed in Cathy Sparrow’s eyes and Jordan continued, “I brought you something…” She had stopped to buy a pen and writing pad on the way to her car and
handed them to her, “It doesn’t look like anyone’s brought you one yet so here’s a pad so you can talk to me...”
Cathy held them in her hand as though the objects were completely foreign to her. The pad was a top wire-bound design with ruled pages and Jordan waited quietly while Cathy stared at it for a long moment until she clicked open the pen and began to write,
“My daughter”
Cathy stared down at the words she had written and when she finally raised her eyes to Jordan’s, tears spilled from them and down her face.
Jordan sighed and nodded, sitting on the bed, “According to the coroner, the bullet that killed your daughter hit her squarely in the chest…” Jordan paused when Cathy covered her eyes, “and she died instantly.” Small, strangled sounds escaped Cathy’s throat and Jordan placed a hand over the one she held over her eyes, “Cathy…” she called gently, “Cathy, I know this is the worst moment of your life… but it’s imperative to stay as calm as you can during this time.” She licked her lips, acutely aware of how absurd she sounded, “The more upset you are the more your airway will swell shut … and Cameron needs you.” Cathy continued to cry and Jordan gently pulled her hand from her face, “He needs you, Cathy…” she implored softly, “He needs you… and I need you to help me find the man who shot you and killed Chelsea…”
