Lasting Shadows

by Bonnie Gardiner

  “Sounds like he’s got a problem.”

  “He does,” she said. “Me. I keep giving in.”

  He studied her face, seeing her gaze behind the side of the sunglasses. Little wrinkles crinkled around her eyes as she squinted in spite of the dark lenses.

  “And what if you didn’t?”

  She frowned, her lips opening a little. He noted the very light touch of pink lipstick, the faint glittery texture catching the sunlight.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, her voice trembling a little. “I’ll admit. I’m a little afraid of him.”

  He frowned as she stared up at him.

  “He has a temper,” she said. “Stomps around. Throws things. Put his fist through a wall a few times. Tore apart a chair right in front of me. I really don’t know how far he would go.”

  “Which is why you wore this.” Quinn touched the side of her scarf.

  She frowned and nodded at him. A tear rolled down her cheek.

  “I haven’t told anyone about this,” she whispered. “Not even Dan.” She turned to him. “Briggs. The mini-”

  “Minister. I know him.”

  She nodded, patting his hand.

  “Then you know how scared I am.”

  They walked up on the cement bench Quinn had sat on when he visited the place before. He motioned to it and she passed by him and sat down. He settled in beside her, grateful for the rest for his ankle. Twinges of pain shot through him, but he hid it as much as he could.

  “No one knows about his outbursts,” she said. “He keeps that confined to home. He knows those girls working for us would bolt if he behaved that way there. Spoiled and having a temper tantrum.”

  He watched her face as she touched a tissue to each eye behind the sunglasses.

  “I listen to what you say, and I have to ask you, Carol. Do you still love him?”

  She turned sharply to him, her lips trembling. She fiddled with the tissue between her hands, staring out at the trees.

  “I get the feeling you’re just trying to keep the peace,” he said in a soft, low voice. “Why haven’t you just kicked him out?”

  She broke down, crying in earnest, sobs breaking out as her shoulders shook.

  “Failure,” she said between sobs. “Because of my father to be perfectly honest. The man talked to me like I was dumb as a post. Treated me as if I had no clue about anything. He didn’t believe I could handle the place. My brothers turned their noses up at staying here in Nock. They both moved far away. Big cities. Big jobs. Big incomes. I was the one who chose to stay behind and help him with the place as his health declined. I was the one who managed the money, the books, the orders, the supplies. I kept that place going while he was in his deathbed and not once did he ever tell me I did a good job. Not once, Quinn. I gave my entire life to prove myself to him. And in the end, he put a stipulation in his will. I had to stay married to keep the money. He didn’t even believe I was capable of that.”

  Quinn hugged her to him, rubbing her back. She burst into stronger sobs as he held her.

  “But he’s gone now, I take it?”

  “Yes.” She sniffed, wiping her nose with the tissues.

  “So, now that he’s gone, can’t you get some things looked at by a lawyer and changed?”

  “Maybe… I don’t know.”

  “I would check into it. If you’re not happy, then why put up with it? Figure out some way to make a change.”

  He took her free hand and squeezed gently.

  “Life’s too short, Carol.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her. He noticed her eyes widening as he did. “So your family fortune was made by your father? Or is this old money?”

  “Old,” she said. “My father made his own wealth as well, but certainly not with the restaurant. That was a hobby that turned into a decent income producer. No, he made his money in real estate. The old money comes from the Tanner line, going back many generations. They moved here from up north, following the coal mine. One of my ancestors was an early investor who managed to get an odd feeling and pull out before the first of the disasters here. But he’d built an estate in Nock and decided to stay. In fact, he helped many of the families here get back on their feet.”

  “Sounds like a decent man.”

  She nodded, turning away. She pointed.

  “I believe his tomb is back this way if you’d care to see it.”

  “Of course.”

  He stood, wrapping her arm around his and they walked deeper into the cemetery.

  ***

  Two hours later, they found themselves walking back toward the entrance. Quinn’s ankle twinged with pain with every step, though he still managed to soothe Carol enough to laugh and relax.

  “I cannot tell you how much I have enjoyed this conversation,” she said. She patted his arm. “You are such a gentleman, and so kind to listen to a silly frantic woman.”

  “I think that you have good reason to feel as you do, Carol. I’m being very serious when I say I think you need to speak to a lawyer.”

  “I agree,” she said. She sighed, looking out at her car. “I suppose I have to head back.”

  “Is he expecting you?”

  She frowned up at him.

  “No,” he’s working. “Not expecting to see me until the restaurant closes.”

  “Then why rush?”

  Her mouth opened a little.

  “We could talk a little more,” he said. He sighed with a small guilty laugh. “Though I’ll admit, my ankle is killing me. I guess I’m trying to avoid work. Feels like that’s all I ever do.”

  “That’s a feeling I know all too well. Here…” She walked him back to a bench closer to the gate and helped him sit. “Let me look at it.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t.”

  “Quinn, you’ve been helping me all this time. Let me help you.”

  He raised his foot up to the bench, a shock of pain making him hiss, wincing. She rolled up his pants leg and tugged down his sock.

  “Well, you’ve got it wrapped nicely.”

  “Did my best.”

  She unwrapped the bandage carefully, her warm fingers brushing against his skin. He studied her figure. She was a little plump, with a bit of a belly. She wore dark slacks, hiding the shape of her legs but he got the impression they were a little meatier, curvy and very feminine. She looked over his ankle carefully.

  “It doesn’t look too serious,” she said. “Just very swollen. You need to get back and get ice on it again.”

  “I was afraid you were gonna say that,” he said. “I was enjoying the company.”

  She smiled at him.

  “I was too,” she said, watching his face a moment.

  She wrapped the bandage around his ankle again and he stood, taking her arm.

  “I wonder if we’ll ever get the opportunity to do this again?” He turned to her, watching her face as he waited for her answer.

  She bit her lip as she stared out at the parking lot. She peered up at him as they stopped by her car.

  “I hope so too,” she said. “Maybe I can find a chance to get away again before you leave.”

  “That would be lovely.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her before letting go and stepping back. She slid into the driver’s seat, pulling off the scarf. She waved and smiled at him and backed out, driving away.

  He looked down at his phone once she was gone and hobbled to his car. Kate’s name flashed at him. She had texted him twice, Tamara and Megan just once.

  Tamara sent a photo of her and Megan sticking out their tongues. Two boys sat with them, one on either side of Megan. A row of hearts lined the bottom of the message.

  Kate’s message was brief.

  “I made it home. He’s not here and his stuff is still gone. Maybe he’s really not coming back, Quinn.”

  He slid into the car and cranked it up, leaving the cemetery behind.

  Chapter 14

  INTRUSION

  “Reginald ran into the brute sla
mming him against the stone wall. The shouting outside grew louder.

  “They’re getting closer!

  “Then we have to do this quick.

  “What do you mean to-

  “He gazed coldly right into the gasping man’s angry eyes, jamming the little blade in his chest to the hilt.

  “Sorry, mate. You’re in the way. Nothing personal.

  “He snatched up Christina’s arm and dragged her with him at a full run.”

  Quinn paused the recording to yawn again. He looked at his phone.

  Three hours past when I said I’d go to bed.

  He sighed. He closed up shop, turning everything off and saving his work for the day and limped off to bed, the achy feeling in his ankle making him move very slow.

  A half-hour later he dropped into the bed without checking his phone or even pulling up the covers.

  ***

  The morning train rumbled past. Quinn rolled over.

  Another hour passed. He rolled the other way.

  Two hours after that, he blinked awake with an extreme urge to urinate. He hopped as best he could, scrambling to get there fast enough.

  He hissed at the pain in his ankle. It had dropped to an ache now, throbbing a little. He unwrapped it looking at the swelling and the bruise. For a moment he thought of Kate’s face.

  Did she really do that to herself? And how?

  He crawled across the bed, grabbing up his phone. Somehow it was on airplane mode. He groaned.

  “Lie about something often enough and it actually happens. Stupid.”

  There were fourteen unread messages, three from Tamara, seven from Carol and four from Kate at the office.

  She’s staying at home.

  I hope.

  He winced as he clicked it.

  “Hi Quinn, just letting you know Gin called while I was away. Lisa took the messages. She wanted to let you know the separation papers are ready and on their way to you. You’re getting joint custody of Angela with the understanding that Angela gets to have a say in whether or not she wants to visit. She’s not seeking alimony, but she is asking for child support.”

  The last message from her she used her personal phone.

  “I hope you’re okay. Coming back to work feels so odd, but so far, everything has been just fine. I did have a talk with Jerry about it. He was concerned about my black eye. He asked me to work in his office today since he’s heading out of town and it hides me from the public. He even asked if we needed some extra security in the office. I told him I thought you had convinced Jack to ease off for a while. He seemed to relax after that. Otherwise, everything is back to normal. I love you, Quinn. Please take it easy on your ankle.”

  He sighed for a moment, lost in thought about Angela, wondering briefly if she had asked for that clause herself. He shook the thoughts away and checked the next message.

  Carol talked a bit about some historical things she had checked into after the visit to her family plot, before diving into a little more comfortable conversation.

  “I have to say, Quinn, I had a wonderful time chatting with you yesterday. I so wish Tim could take lessons from you on how to listen. Haha! But I know, some are just too set in their ways, myself included. How is your ankle? Oh, and I told Tim a little bit about our chat in the graveyard. I didn’t tell him I asked you to meet me, but more that I bumped into you there, just to corroborate the story so we’re on the same page. Anyway, my other reason for contacting you is to ask if you’d like to come over for dinner. It’s our evening away from the restaurant, and since we’re usually bored to death just talking to each other I asked Tim if he would mind. So, if it’s alright with you, dinner is at six o’clock. Please let me know if you can come.”

  He smiled and texted her right back.

  “My phone was on airplane mode by accident, Carol. Is that offer for dinner still good?”

  Less than a minute later she responded.

  “Of course, Quinn! We would be delighted if you’d come.”

  “I’ll be there,” he said. “Probably hopping on one foot.”

  “Haha! Alright. See you then. Have a great day.”

  A smile curled up on his lips. Telling her husband was unexpected. It had happened in the past, a woman he was interested in blurting the information to her husband, but in that case, it worked to his favor. That man had a fetish.

  Maybe Tim does too.

  He let his mind wander a minute before lifting the phone again to read Tamara’s message. She sent a photo of the rising sun.

  “Heading home today, baby. Hope I get to see you when I get there.”

  The last message was Megan using Tamara’s phone. She took a picture of herself making a kissy face. Tamara stood a little behind her, frowning. Quinn shook his head.

  “Yeah, Megan is bad for you angel. You need a better friend.”

  As he put down his phone, he saw his ankle again.

  “Oh yeah, shit, I wanted to look up ‘self-harm’.”

  He looked at his phone again, opening up his browser. He read for a little while, sprawled across the bed. After a good twenty minutes of research, he laid there, staring up at the ceiling, the phone lying on the bed beside him.

  Thoughts raced through his head. Surges of ideas for stories seemed to flood out everything else, but he fought to keep his mind on Kate.

  Would Kate do that? Is she that messed up? Maybe she needs mental help?

  The sound of the trash truck outside startled him from his thoughts. He wiggled off the bed and hopped to the shower, starting his day.

  ***

  He hissed at the pain as he placed the ice on his ankle. He moved his workstation to the living room, laptop and all, precariously balanced on a narrow side table. A chair slid up next to it with an oversized serving tray on top held everything else he needed. Two painkillers with breakfast and a tall glass of iced tea sitting next to him, he began dictating.

  ***

  “But the blood we have on our hands now, Reginald, I just don’t know.

  “Christina, I did it all to keep us safe. If there had been any other way-

  “I know. But now… Now we’ll always be on the run.

  “About that, I have a plan. Just be patient a while longer, love. I swear to you. I will fix everything. Just bear with me a while longer.

  “A loud thump made both of them tense. He lifted his finger to his lips and slipped out of their hiding place. Shouting echoed from somewhere in the ruins.

  “They know we’re here, but they can’t find us in the dark. This is our chance to-”

  Quinn’s phone sang it’s little song, vibrating on the table by his now warm, watery tea. He checked the screen.

  “Hi, angel.”

  “Hi, baby. Oh my god, I missed you. I’m back home now.”

  She lowered her voice into something sultry.

  “And I want you.”

  Too much time around Megan.

  “Angel, I’m working.”

  “But after you’re done? We could get together. I could bring something over, maybe cook for you for a change?”

  He laughed a little.

  “That’s sweet,” he said. “But I can’t tonight, angel. I have a dinner date with a couple. They have some stories about the history here, so I’m doing some interviews with them.”

  “No… aww…. But baby, I really wanted to-”

  He tensed. She lowered her voice to a loud whisper, saying some things that shocked him, coming from her.

  So much for sweet and innocent. Megan gave you a bit of education while you were out there.

  He shook his head. Somehow she didn’t seem as alluring as she did before.

  There’s a beauty in naivety.

  “Sorry angel,” he said. “They’re expecting me in a little while. I don’t want to cancel.”

  He heard her deep sigh.

  “Alright. Guess I have to find someone else who wants to spend time with me.”

  She ended the call. He shook his he
ad, staring down at the phone.

  “Adult education,” he said. “You just got a crash course, kid.”

  He imagined her hanging off of Billy but shook the thought away.

  “We already know his type.”

  Megan’s photos shimmered in his mind.

  He looked down at her number in his phone.

  “She’s probably slept with half the young men in the city,” he said. His thumb hovered over the delete contact selection. Instead, he shook the thought off and set the phone down, turning back to his work.

  ***

  Quinn worked until he heard the northern train, signaling the late afternoon. He stood, as carefully as possible and limped to the back of the house. The pain had dropped quite a bit during the day. Now all that was left was a dull ache that occasionally throbbed.

  He cleaned up and dressed in something fancier but still fairly casual and went out the front door. He pushed on his sunglasses, peering first across at the bottles. The old woman rocked, staring at nothing. The horse made no noise, just grazing in his pen. He blew away a soft sigh of relief and slid into the driver’s seat, cranking up and backing out. Zooming past the house across the street, the old woman’s eyes met his between the shrubs. He turned back to the road, feeling a chill shudder through him.

  ***

  Quinn pulled up in the driveway at Carol’s house. The manor was a big old place, white with columns, looking rather antebellum and stately, though he knew it was a bit newer than that. It sat at the end of a very long driveway lined with rail fences stained dark. Dogwood trees grew on either side, obviously planted ages in the past. Two massive oaks flanked the house and all around and behind it, pine trees grew in long spaced rows.

  “Lumber,” he said to himself. “This is a farm.”