by Lori Zaremba
She met his eyes somberly.
“When I went home and gave Carlson a chance, I fell deeply in love with him.”
They walked in silence until Chase found the only crack in the road to stumble over. Immediately, as he scraped his tiny hands on the brick-paved street, he started wailing.
Douglas swept him up into his arms without a thought, and after a minute or so, he was able to soothe the crying Chase.
He looked somberly at Chase and said to Vanessa, “He doesn’t resemble Carlson at all. Abigail noticed the uncanny resemblance to our son Dennis.”
Vanessa looked at him with a sharp eye and spoke with a soft voice that barely concealed her anger. “He looks exactly like Carlson’s father, and you can see the resemblance in any photo.”
Douglas made a mental note to check that out.
Vanessa reached out her arms to bring Chase back to her while studying Douglas warily. “Okay, young man, we have arrived at our destination.” She looked up at the house on the right.
Chase immediately started acting up. He did not want to go until Vanessa said, “It’s Aunt Gloria’s birthday, and we have a present for her!” She took out a present, which immediately lit up Chase’s face.
“Say goodbye to Mr. Thorton.”
Chase waved to Douglas as they walked up the steps. Vanessa said nothing, but her usually warm eyes were now frozen as she chilled him with one last glance before ringing the doorbell. Apparently, she was highly insulted by his questioning.
He watched them thoughtfully as they were greeted at the door and ushered inside. After that encounter, Douglas reconsidered that perhaps the child wasn’t his son. What Vanessa had said made sense, and after seeing a few pictures of Carlson’s father in the Chicago Business Times, he could see the resemblance, so he left it alone. He even sent photos to Abigail to ease her mind.
For months, he tried not to think of it again, until one day when he had a meeting with his attorney Eric Gallow. The men met for coffee and to go over final legality for the project downtown.
Eric had been working for DHT for almost a year now, and when he sat down, he handed Douglas a folder which held contracts. He noticed that Douglas was reading a copy of the Chicago Business Times, and on the front cover was a picture of Carlson and his father.
The men made small talk about various business projects before Eric picked up the newspaper.
“I wonder if Carlson’s father ever figured out that his son was an Ethel.”
Douglas looked up from the contracts before him. “What did you say?”
Eric seemed a little nervous, as if perhaps he should not have mentioned it, and offered, “It’s pretty common knowledge in certain circles. Carlson preferred men over the ladies.”
Douglas then questioned him again. “How do you know this?”
Eric raised his shoulders with a bit of an attitude. Douglas knew Eric came across as a little bit more feminine, but he never questioned his sexual orientation, as it had no bearing on the excellent work he did for the company.
“So you’re saying Carlson was a homosexual. How can you be sure?” Douglas felt the heat rising on his cheeks, a mix of embarrassment as well as anger.
“Put it this way. I knew the man very, very well. I know that he could never have a relationship with a woman.” Eric gave a nonchalant shrug. He paused, still holding the newspaper and looking at Carlson’s smiling face, before looking sharply at Douglas. “I always wondered about the poor guy they duped to have that baby.”
The air sucked out of him; Douglas couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was right under his nose—the truth.
He stood abruptly, knocking over his empty coffee cup, and gathered his papers, making some excuse for another meeting he had to attend. He left a stunned Eric sitting and undoubtedly wondering what the hell just happened.
Douglas almost sprinted toward Vanessa’s house but decided to take a cab instead. When he pounded on the front door, the very startled butler, Leo, answered.
“Where is she?” he asked, desperate to see her.
Leo remained calm. “Where is who, sir?
“Vanessa. I want to see Vanessa!” He pushed past the butler and started walking toward the stairs.
Leo called out, “Sir, she’s not here. She is out for the day.”
Exasperated, he wrote down his name and gave a hastily written note to Leo that stated he “knew the truth.”
He gave the address and the room number of the hotel where he was staying.
Douglas never felt such fury in his life. Molten lava ran through his veins. He thought that if he had a mirror, he would see smoke coming out of his ears.
He stopped by several places he thought Vanessa might be, such as Raul’s shop, the park, or the tea room at the Biltmore Hotel. He knew he would be speaking to her soon, so he decided to sit tight. He walked across the lobby, planning on going back to his hotel room across the street. His focus now would be on the required steps to gain parental rights to his son.
Still fuming, he walked across the lobby, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw red. He watched in amazement as Vanessa stepped onto the private elevator that went up to the penthouse. Without thinking, he halted the young man operating the lift and quickly got inside before the door could shut.
Vanessa looked at him with surprise as he grabbed her arm and pulled her close. “I know the truth, Vanessa!”
As he spoke, he felt Nathan Petit place his hands on him to yank him away. Without thinking, Douglas pulled his arm free from Nathan’s grasp, and in that motion, he spun around and immediately felt Nathan’s meaty fist on his jaw.
The hit would’ve knocked out a prizefighter, but Douglas was fueled by anger and only staggered back and paused for a moment before plowing his head into Nathan’s middle. He landed a couple of punches before Nathan finally knocked him flat on the ground, all while the elevator was going up.
Vanessa and the attendant stepped outside on the penthouse floor, and Nathan stepped over a bleeding Douglas. Handing the attendant some bills, he said, “Get this piece of shit out of here.”
The last thing Douglas saw was Vanessa’s face riddled with fear and something else as the elevator doors closed.
***
Trudy
Trudy tossed the documents she was examining on the coffee table and stood up to greet Dana. She noticed when the psychic stomped in from the front porch, she appeared agitated. Bristling with frustration, Dana threw herself into a vacant chair.
“What’s wrong?” Trudy came to stand beside her.
“I spoke with Douglas. He’s wanted to tell me his side of the story.”
Trudy raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you okay?” She expected Dana to be weak, but instead, she seemed fueled with fury.
“I’m okay. He didn’t stay too long.” Dana stood and started to pace. “The one thing I discovered is that Eric Gallow worked as an attorney for Douglas’s company.” She paused. “He told Douglas what he knew about Vanessa and Carlson and that the baby couldn’t possibly be Carlson’s.” She sat back down in the chair and faced them. “Douglas had a gut feeling, acted upon it angrily, and attacked Vanessa in the elevator of the Drake Hotel.” Dana leaned back in the chair, rubbing a hand across her brow to ease the tension there. “That’s as far as I got…The last thing he said to me when I asked what happened next…”
She leaned forward again, staring intently into Trudy’s eyes.
“He said all hell broke loose.” She sighed. “I am frustrated. It’s like everything is right there, like ripe fruit on a tree, and I can’t figure out how to pick it.”
Trudy, feeling the same way, bent down and wrapped her arm around Dana’s shoulders.
“It’ll come, Dana. We’re getting there. I feel we’re very close.”
Dana went over to study the scattered documents on the coffee table. “Did you two find anything else in your research?”
“We also discovered a record that Eric worked for DHT, but it did
n’t say in what capacity, so we weren’t sure if he ever even had contact with Douglas. Apparently, and according to you, he did.” Trudy nodded toward the documents. “We’re just getting through a stack of newspapers. Leslie made a copy of every headline or news clipping that had Douglas’s or Vanessa’s name mentioned in it.”
Dana sighed then glanced at the sleeping Patrick before spinning around. “Where are the boys?”
“Oh, they’re getting shitfaced in the kitchen, enjoying Paul’s stash of booze and cold pizza,” Leslie said, climbing to her feet.
“Oh good, I think I’ll join them.” Dana looked at them over her shoulder as she made her way toward the kitchen. “Are you girls coming?”
Chapter 18
Trudy watched as Jason took a long swallow of the fine aged bourbon he and Ryan found in Paul’s liquor cabinet. She chuckled when she heard him gasp as the liquid burned a path down his throat. Peering over her third or maybe fourth glass of red wine, Trudy wagged her finger at Leslie and Dana, who were hopped up on dry martinis and singing along to Adele on the surround sound system. Trudy rolled with laughter when she noticed the men wincing in agony and holding their ears to block this awful version of “Rolling In The Deep.”
They were all pretty intoxicated.
Someone lowered the music, and to Trudy’s utter embarrassment, the topic of discussion seemed to focus solely on her.
Leslie, who was now lying across two chairs, told a story of their teenage years, and then all the times Trudy was there for her when she was at her worst.
Trudy buried her head in her hands when Dana spoke up. “I think she’s a warrior sent here from another planet, to help souls who can’t help themselves or something.” She hiccuped and giggled.
“Lord help us, the psychic is shitfaced!” Leslie teased in her usual snarky voice.
Ryan, on the other hand, spoke about some of the trouble they got into while working on the Pittsburgh police force together. He told the group, “Trudy had to act like a stripper because the owner of The Booty Bar was a suspect in a massive drug ring. She had to perform a lap dance as requested by one of the patrons, and two minutes into it…they asked for their money back!” Ryan rolled with laughter, tears escaping from his eyes.
Jason looked at Trudy with a raised brow, but then she noticed something wicked enter his eyes. “You know, maybe you just need someone to practice on.”
Trudy scowled deeply at him as she felt the heat rise on her cheeks, causing the group to explode in laughter.
Finally, Ryan sobered. “Trudy, you could be a real goofball sometimes, but the truth be told, you’re one of the best cops I’ve ever worked with.”
“Thank you, buddy, I feel the same,” she bantered back.
“That night when you shot up your squad car, claiming you saw a ghost.” He shook his head when he heard Jason’s guffaw. “Jason, we all gave her shit about it.” Ryan leaned forward, running his hand through his hair and studying Trudy, who hated to be the center of everyone’s attention.
“Poor kid, there you were out there all alone, overworked, baby at home, and fighting for your life!” He suddenly slammed his fist on the table, startling them all. “You fought the guy in the street. He was there for one reason, and that was to kill you.” He picked up his glass and stared down into the whiskey. “You took down a serial cop killer. The fuckin’ guy was running amok over the city for a month!” He tossed back the rest of his drink before pouring more. “They should have thrown you a goddamn parade. Instead, what did you get? A three-month psych evaluation.”
“No, a six-month, but who’s counting?” Trudy hoped to change the subject but got distracted when she met Jason’s somber stare.
“You never told me that.” Leslie seemed suddenly sober and came over to sit by Ryan. “The guy was a cop killer?”
“Yep.” Ryan looked around the table.
“He ambushed two other cops earlier that month, killing them, before attacking Trudy.”
“What the hell? Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?” Leslie stared hard at Trudy.
Trudy lifted her shoulders but could see the moisture forming in her friend’s eyes.
“You’ve always had to fight, haven’t you?” Leslie whispered and placed her hand over Trudy’s while meeting her eyes in silent communication.
“You should have seen her the other night. She took down three guys!” Dana hiccuped again and then covered her mouth, realizing what she just revealed.
“Dana? What the hell?” Trudy warned as the rest of the group exclaimed.
“I’m sorry, Trudy. I know I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about what happened,” Dana slurred, standing as if to make a hasty exit.
“You sit back down in that chair, Dana McCoy, and you tell us everything right now,” Leslie hissed.
“But…” Dana stalled but awkwardly fell back onto the chair she had previously vacated, peeking guiltily at Trudy from under her lashes.
“Go on, tell us!” Leslie scolded, while Jason kept his eyes trained on Trudy. For whatever reason, Trudy couldn’t look at him. She was too afraid of what she would see there. Instead, she looked down into her wine glass and thought of all the ways she could legally torture Dana.
She felt the heat rising on her cheeks when she heard Dana say, “Trudy was amazing. We went to an abandoned house on the North Side to test the equipment,” Dana began, and Trudy shrugged when the group called her out for her stupidity.
“First, we were attacked by a poltergeist.” Dana got sidetracked by explaining to the group what happened and why it occurred before jumping to her feet. “Then these three scary dudes show up!” Dana rolled up a piece of paper from the pile on the table, using it to demonstrate.
Trudy covered her face with her hands. She could see where the psychic was going with this.
“First, Trudy uses a piece of a rocking chair as a billyclub and takes down the biggest guy.” Dana spun and punched the air with the rolled paper. “Pow, bam, bam. Then she strikes the other guy at the same time, busting his nose!” Dana used her elbow to jab to the right. “That’s when I leave and call the station, and Trudy fights with the evil guy until the cops show up like ten minutes later.”
When she finished, Jason yelled, “You fought the guy for ten minutes?”
“And he had a knife,” Dana seemed to boast.
Trudy became irritated, and she leaned forward on the table and looked Jason dead in the eye. “What was I supposed to do, Jason?”
He leaned forward as well. “How about running out the door with Dana?”
“I can’t believe you just left her there,” Leslie interrupted to ridicule Dana.
“Hey, that’s what Trudy and I have always agreed to.” Dana raised her hands in self-defense. “She says I’m a distraction. Am I right, Trudy?”
Trudy looked away from Jason and softened when she saw Dana’s wide-eyed expression. Sighing heavily, Trudy nodded. “You’re right, Dana. Now, can you please stop talking?”
Poor Jason. He looked like he was going to be ill. Trudy watched as he laid his head in his hands, suffering from too much alcohol and too much information.
Leslie apparently noticed as well, because she reached over to pat him on his back. “You’ll get used to it. I was hoping with this being Trudy’s new line of work, we wouldn’t have to hear these kinds of stories anymore.”
Dana burst with cynical laughter before sobering. “You hoped. Now she has to deal with really upset and sometimes evil dead people, and that’s a whole different kind of threat.”
Jason looked up at Dana and shook his head while he grabbed the nearly empty bottle of bourbon and filled his glass.
The psychic came over to wrap her arms around Jason’s back. Pressing her cheek close to his ear, she whispered loud enough for Trudy to hear, “You were sent to keep our Trudy safe.”
Trudy rolled her eyes to the heavens. God help me.
“Trudy sure doesn’t need me,” Jason jeered, making Tru
dy wince.
Finally catching a break, Trudy felt it was time to change the subject and asked Ryan if he was working on any interesting cases.
The conversation slowed, and Jason threw back the last of the bourbon and stood shakily.
He patted Ryan on the back then ruffled Leslie’s hair, which earned him a smack. “This has been enlightening, my friends, but I know when I’ve had enough.”
Trudy concluded in her mind that Jason had enough half a bottle ago.
Jason turned to Ryan. “If I don’t see you tomorrow, man, I wanted to say thanks for helping out. My crew and I are packing up in the morning.”
Trudy looked up sharply. “You’re leaving? Were you going to tell me?” she blurted and immediately regretted it when she saw the others looking at her curiously.
“Well, it’s not really a surprise since I was scheduled to leave two days ago.” He slurred his words slightly and avoided Trudy’s glare.
“But we haven’t solved the case yet,” she rushed to say.
“You haven’t, not we.” He sighed. “We stayed longer than we anticipated, and hell, I really don’t think surveillance is of any use at this point.” Jason took her by the elbow and ushered her out of the kitchen. Wrapping his arms around her as soon as the door closed behind them, he pulled her close. “Babe, my guys are truly exhausted, and so am I.”
Trudy nodded. She saw that for herself today when she went looking for him. But why did it feel like someone punched her in the gut?
Trudy pulled away from him, and he looked at her sadly. “In all my years of doing surveillance, I have never experienced anything like what’s going on here. You and your team, for the most part, act like this chaos is just usual shit.” He shook his head. “I’m outta my element here.”
Trudy stepped back when he reached for her again. “So, is this it for us?” The question slipped off her tongue, but she quickly recovered by asking, “Will I see you before you leave in the morning?”
He stepped forward again. “Well, I was hoping we could spend the rest of the night saying goodbye.” He smiled charmingly.