by Peggy Slocum
“Augh!! I’m dropping!”
“Let me go!” Elliot uses all his strength to push through the muscle-bound man at the door and then runs between two other officers who are standing behind Casey.
“Dude, what’s wrong with you?!” The officer grabs Elliot, restraining him from getting past Casey.
“Let go of me.” Elliot tries to push the officer away.
“No! You’re gonna get that little girl killed.”
“Please, Joe,” Suzy says, reaching up for his arms. “I don’t want to die. Grab my hands.” The threads from Suzy’s shirt separate from her collar.
“What the ?” Joe scrambles to grab her hands, but it’s too late. “No!” Joe screams as Suzy plunges to the ground.
“You idiot!” Elliot pushes past Casey and begins pummeling Joe.
“Elliot! Back off, it’s OK!” Casey says.
“No, it’s not!” Elliot shouts. “He needs to die.”
“Let go of him, Elliot! Now!” Casey demands.
“OK.” Elliot picks Joe up by the arms.
“Thank …” Casey starts to say as her mouth drops and eyes widen.
“No problem.” Elliot interrupts Casey’s sentence and drops Joe over the edge of the building. “Now justice has been done.” Elliot thrusts his wrists out for Casey to handcuff.
“Smart move, Elliot.” Casey handcuffs Elliot’s wrists. If you would’ve gone downstairs, you would’ve realized that Suzy landed in a safety net. But you had to do it your way, and that guy you tried to kill, he’s safe too. So because of you, he’ll probably walk. Good job.” Casey pushes Elliot through the door.
* * *
“Because of what happened, Joe got off with house arrest, and Elliot was forced to take a leave of absence from the Force,” Beth says, while flipping the straw much faster than when she first picked it out of her rum and coke.
“Wow, poor Elliot. If that guy had just missed the net, things could’ve been different,” Sam says, flashing her smile at the bar tender while tilting her drink towards him. “This one’s gettin’ kind of low honey. Bring me another when you get a chance.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, things get covered up every day. We’d have less nut-cases running around if they were actually afraid of getting punished.”
“When Elliot dropped Joe over the edge, he became a criminal; he’s lucky he didn’t end up with time.”
“Well … to watch a little girl drop four stories just after telling the parents to go Christmas shopping, I can see where he would snap. I can’t imagine how Elliot felt; all he ever does is work on missing-person cases. The one time he gets good news, it falls apart at the last second. And then, to make matters worse, he loses his job. Poor Elliot.”
“I know, and to top it off, things got bad for him financially. So I took him on full-time at my office and offered him to stay with me until he gets things under control.”
“Well, he seems to be doing good now. Didn’t you tell me he purchased a custom-made Vette?” Sam asks.
“Yes, he’s doing much better.”
“In that case, when will he be finding a place of his own?”
“He’s not, for now at least. This arrangement works out for us. Why change a good thing?”
“And neither of you have made a move?” Sam, intrigued by the straw Beth is playing with, tries to take it.
“No, it’s not like that.” Beth pulls the straw away from her reach.
“Oh, in that case, Trisha just broke up with her boyfriend last weekend. Maybe we should introduce them?” She reaches wider for the straw, almost knocking over Beth’s drink but misses.
“No, they wouldn’t be compatible; she is way too flaky.” Beth protects her straw, continuing to antagonize Sam. She might lose this argument—but not the straw.
“How about Stephanie?” Sam plays along, reaching behind Beth to snatch for the straw again.
Beth teases Sam moving the straw closer to her. “Too high maintenance.”
“Sheila?” Sam ignores the straw and fixes her gaze on Beth’s eyes, enjoying the reaction.
“Too controlling.” Beth dangles the straw in front of Sam’s face.
“Sa—rah.” Sam emphasizes each syllable clearly before a subdued chuckle escapes. She snatches the straw from Beth’s grip.
At a loss for words, Beth mumbles under her breath and grabs the straw back.
“Ha, you can’t find anything wrong with her, can you?” As if to say checkmate, Sam reaches over and slowly takes the straw.
Giving up on her straw, Beth reaches into a plastic container next to Sam’s drink and takes another. “Sarah may as well be a nun and you know it.”
“Just admit the way you feel about him, and I’ll stop nagging you.”
“All right, I admit. If he ever acted interested, I would definitely give it some thought.”
“Finally ... Henry! Where’s my drink?” Sam says.
“Comin’ right up Sam.”
“Make it another round and two shots of Tequila Rose.”
“This round’s on the house. In celebration of your upcoming wedding.”
“That’s right.” Beth laughs. “I only have one month to talk you out of it.”
“Ha!” Sam says. “I have put so much work into this wedding that I couldn’t change my mind even if I wanted to.”
Buzzt. Buzzt.
Sam’s phone vibrates, announcing an incoming message.
“That’s him. We text constantly.”
“Why don’t you talk?” Beth asks. “You know—like the rest of us.”
“This is way more fun. We talk about whatever we want and no one knows what we’re saying.” Sam reaches for her cell on the bar and opens it with a snap. “We can also talk about the people we’re hanging out with and they’ve no clue.” Her eyes dart as she reads the message. She pauses a moment, smirks, and keys the response. Before she finishes, the low-battery warning interrupts. “Shoot, my phone is dying. Can I use yours?”
“This is a smut-free phone, lady.” Beth smiles and guards her purse.
“Ha, at least one of you will have a life,” Sam kids then reaches into Beth’s purse, ignoring her objection. She flips Beth’s phone open as if it were her own and enters the message to her fiancé Kyle. She ignores Beth while she finishes the message and hits Send. “Oops.” Sam smiles meekly as if she would like a chance to replay her last five seconds. “Uh, who is number one on your phone?”
“Elliot—why?”
“Oh, I sent him … a message.”
“What kind of message?”
“Like, I am giving him a reason to be excited. You know, like really excited.”
“You’re kidding, right? Did you at least sign your name? Something sweet … perhaps ‘Love, Stupid?’ ”
“No. Kyle would know it was me. Or he had better know it’s me,” Sam answers with a wink.
Beth is ready to slap the smug expression off Sam’s face. Augh! “You are not right.” Beth pauses a moment to think. Her heart starts to race. She’s aware of emotions she would not admit to anyone, especially herself.
Sam’s smile is alive. She reaches around Beth’s shoulder and shakes her with an encouraging hug. “Well, I guess this is one way to find out if this ‘just friends’ stuff holds water.”
Beth snatches the phone away. “Thanks, this’ll work out nicely. You’re a peach.”
“Am I sensing sarcasm?” Sam asks, unaware of the true damage she may have done to Beth and Elliot’s platonic relationship.
“Ya think?” Beth throws her straw at Sam.
Sam shrugs it off as her attention shifts towards the door.
Kyle lets the wooden door swing shut behind his large frame. His dark countenance is offset by his bright blue eyes fixing on Sam’s attractive figure. Kyle crosses the small dining area of the tavern to meet the girls seated at the bar.
Beth considers the situation. “It looks like he found you. I’m heading out,” she says im
patiently, still feeling annoyed by Sam’s blunder.
Seeming to be serious for a moment, Sam leans over and gives Beth another hug. Then she shakes her roughly. “Snap out of it! This is the chance you’ve been waiting for. Blame it on me. Maybe you’ll find out what he’s really thinking.” She waits a moment.” Do you need a ride home?”
“I’ll catch a cab. Thanks anyway.”
Beth steps outside the tavern onto the sidewalk blanketed in fresh snow. I’ve got to think of something before I get home. With any luck, Elliot’s reception will be warmer than this weather.
A cab pulls close to the curb, and she hops in. “One-sixty-one Exeter.” It takes off, kicking up small whirlwinds behind. The city lights are softened by the glow cast from the sparkling snow. Beth stares out through the frost on her window, lost in thought and oblivious to the world beyond.
She’s right. I do have feelings for Elliot. I’ve been fighting them since our first case together. It’s just not a good idea to mix business with pleasure. We have become such good friends. I wouldn’t want to mess it up. I would rather have a crush forever than lose my best …
The phone chirps as a message arrives. Beth’s chest tightens, and she flips it open with excitement and dread. Her eyes fall on the small screen.
“gr8, I m w8ng luv ;-)” The message’s caller ID is blocked.
What? I need to text him back right away and let him know what happened. Or he knows that I was out with Sam tonight. He’s messing with me. I’ll play along … She chooses to reply, “b home n 5 babe,” and presses Send. Babe? I’m such a dork. Why am I so mixed up about this? It’s simple. Sam set me up. Her phone wasn’t dead. She will do anything to win a dumb argument. I bet the idea popped into her head while typing Kyle’s hot risqué …
“Eight–fifty, lady,” the cabby says in a raspy voice.
Startled back to the world, Beth pulls a ten out of her purse and hands it to him. “Keep the change.” Grimacing, she opens the door and braces herself against the cold.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” Beth steps onto the sidewalk and wraps her coat tightly around her, pulling the collar close to her ears. She wastes no time making her way toward the bright warm facade of the Barstow. The building stands in the city’s cold January night with a Victorian elegance from a time past.
“Good evening, Miss Doyle.” Floyd’s friendly voice seems to warm the air as he gestures her toward the door he is opening.
“I assure you, Floyd, calling me by my first name will not get you into trouble.” Beth smiles and rushes inside.
“Yes, of course, Miss Doy … Beth.” The stocky middle-aged African American’s smile fades a bit.
It would seem after thirteen years of service one of them would relent, but instead it becomes more of a ritual each day.
Although tempted by the convenience of the elevator, Beth prevails and takes the stairs. Free exercise, humph. It seems like a better idea in the morning after two shots of espresso.
On the seventh floor, Beth glances to the right. That peace lily I put at the end of the hall under the window could use some water. I’ll let the maid know. She pulls the apartment key from her purse. I wonder if Elliot is still awake. Beth opens the door and hears a woman’s laughter. Oh, apparently I’ve been worrying for nothing. Elliot has obviously been busy. She advances into the kitchen.
“Hi, hon,” Elliot says. “How’s Sam?”
“Great, she’s still celebrating the big day to come.” Beth adds a strained cheerfulness to her voice as she ambles to the refrigerator and grabs a bottled water.
“I’ll have to come next time.” Elliot glances at the attractive blond standing in Beth’s kitchen as if unsure how to introduce her. “This is Kelly.” Not smooth. “She works at the coffee shop on Boylston.”
“Oh, Odell’s place; we know him well.”
“It’s just a part-time job,” Kelly says, making an excuse. “I’m really an actress.”
“That’s great … I’m beat.” Beth feigns a yawn. “Heading to bed. See you in the morning. Nice meeting you, Kelly.” She half hears them say goodnight as she climbs the flight of stairs leading to the second level of the suite. Huh, that was odd. No mention of the text. I read too much into it—one of my gifts I guess. Wow, an actress this time. It’ll never last. Ever since he left the Force, he seems to go for shallow little wannabe girls. I’ll talk him out of her over breakfast …
Beep—beep.
Morning already? Beth stumbles across the unlit room toward the red glow of the alarm clock. Three am … odd.
Beep. Beep.
My phone. Beth reaches for her phone on the dresser next to the alarm clock. Two new text messages. What?! With trepidation Beth presses OK. Both with blocked ID again.
u tease :-(
Grrr! She presses the arrow to the next message.
ul b sorry >:-<,
Distraught, Beth slams the phone onto the mahogany dresser top. Whoever sent these messages is the one that’ll be sorry when I find out who it is. Everyone knows I need my sleep. This is out of control. I can’t believe Elliot would do this. Doesn’t make sense. I should confront him. No … maybe he’s been drinking. He seemed fine in the kitchen.
Beth moves with caution to the tall, sturdy oak door, locks it and double-checks the windows. She involuntarily surveys the naked street below. Restless minutes pass without insight or illumination. I need to get some sleep. She settles quietly back into her queen-size, heated water bed, wrapping her arms around her pillow and holding it tight. There has got to be a reasonable explanation. Sam or Elliot wouldn’t do this. It doesn’t feel right. Her head falls into the pillow, still in her grasp, as her thoughts linger …
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“I’m coming.” An eleven-year-old Beth places her Nancy Drew Mystery Novel down on the coffee table next to the sofa and hurries to the door. Beth opens the door a crack and peers through. “May I help you?” Beth asks the gangly hotel manager, who is avoiding her eyes and gazing down at the floor.
“Hi, Beth … do you know … where your parents went tonight?” Anthony trips over his words, continuing to evade eye contact.
“Yes, they went to a Bible meeting with the Perkins downtown. Why do you ask? Is everything OK?” Beth asks as she opens the door wider, confronted with two policeman standing behind Anthony.
“This is Officer O’Malley; he’d like to talk to you.”
“What’s wrong?” A hurt grows inside, a knowing that something is very wrong.
“Hi, Beth, do you have any relatives close by?” Officer O’Malley asks.
“No. Why? Anthony, I don’t feel comfortable. I think you should leave and come back when my parents come home. They will be back at any moment.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Officer O’Malley says.
Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.
“I’ll be right back; that must be them now.” Beth runs to the phone, hoping her parents are on the other end. “Hello?”
“Hi, Beth, this is Mrs. Perkins; is your mother there?”
“No, I thought she was with you. I think something is wrong. My dad’s employee is here and a policeman is with him.” Beth glanced over at the door with tears of confusion rising to the surface.
“I’m using a lobby phone; I’ll be right up.” Mrs. Perkins ends the call.
Why would she be here? Beth slowly places the phone on the receiver and returns to her unwanted guests. “That was my friend’s mom. She’s on her way up. Maybe she can help you,” Beth says, wanting her discomfort to end.
“Beth, can you tell me what your parents were driving tonight?” Officer O’Malley asks.
“Their car; why?” Beth asks, losing patience.
“Was it a green Lamborghini?”
“You obviously have talked to Anthony ahead of time, so stop beating around the bush and tell me what’s going on.”
“There … has been an accident, and the man and woman in the green vehicle didn’t mak
e it.”
“What!? You’re wrong; they will be home any moment. As a matter of fact, they probably took the limo instead. You need to leave. I’ll have my parents call you when they get in.”
“Beth, he’s telling the truth.” Anthony interjects. “I’m so sorry, but … your parents won’t be coming home; they didn’t make it.”
“It’s a lie! You’re wrong!” Tears stream down her face and drip from her chin. “My parents will be home any moment! Go away!”
“Beth!” Elizabeth Perkins hurries out of the elevator rushing to Beth’s side. “What’s going on?” She places her arms around Beth, trying to calm her down.
“There’s been an accident, and Mr. and Mrs. Callahan didn’t make it,” Anthony answers.
“No …”
“It’s a lie! They will be home any second!” Beth kicks the door hard. “AUGH!!!! Everyone, leave now!” She collapses into Mrs. Perkin’s arms and sobs.
“Oh Beth, I think they are right; that’s why I’m here. I thought I saw your parents’ car … It didn’t look like … They’re telling the truth.”
“No! No! No!” Beth pushes away from Mrs. Perkins. She pounds on the suite door with her fists and kicks it again, oblivious to the pain. “Wake up, Beth! Wake Up!” she says to herself, hoping, almost begging for it to be a dream.
“Oh, sweetie.” Mrs. Perkins tries to comfort Beth.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Beth, are you awake dear?
“Mom? Is that you?”
Beth’s mom, Claire, enters the room. “Yes.”
“Mom!” Beth says with excitement as she leaps from her bed to meet her mother in the middle of the bedroom. Beth wraps her arms around her mother and embraces her. “Oh, Mom, I have missed you so … much. They said you wouldn’t be coming back, but I knew they were wrong.” Beth weeps in her mother’s arms.
Her mother doesn’t say a word; she regards Beth’s eyes with a peaceful smile as she leads her to the bed and sits down beside her.
Sniff. “Where’s Dad?” Beth asks as she rubs her eyes.
“He’ll be in soon.” Her mother gently pushes Beth’s long auburn hair away from her face.
“It was terrible. They told me you were dead.” Beth reaches over and squeezes her mother again. “I’ve missed you so … much. Wait a minute. I’m not a child anymore. That means … you really are dead. Why do you have to be dead?” Tears begin to flow down her cheeks. “Since you’re in the know, what’s it like?”