The Woman Who Didn't

by HC Michaels

  Instead, she sat by his side and mourned.

  Her mourning was loud, and she howled like a wolf under the full moon. Her husband was dead. Her second husband, just like her first. She was two times a widow at the age of thirty. She already knew how long the grief would last. It would never go away.

  Once she called the authorities, it would be chaos. She needed time to sit with Theo and accept what had happened. To say goodbye in a way she hadn’t been able to with Dean.

  “You said you’d never leave me,” she cried. “You promised.”

  She held her hands to her temples, leaving lines of blood streaking across her face.

  “Come back,” she said, shaking Theo by the shoulders. “Come back to me.”

  Her words were useless. Theo wasn’t coming back. Not to her. Not to anyone.

  She leant forward and rested her head on his chest.

  “Kronos, my Kronos.”

  His eyes were still open, and she tried to close them like she’d seen people do in the movies. It didn’t work and she was forced to leave him with that shocked expression on his face. Death had taken him by surprise.

  She got up and went to the kitchen for a cloth, dampening it and returning to dab at the blood caking around his mouth. He was a handsome man. He didn’t deserve to be left looking like this. Her poor Kronos, her Greek god of time, only now his clock had stopped ticking. His time was up. Their time was up. She was on her own once more.

  He looked better without the blood on his face.

  She kissed him on the cheek, aware as her lips reached his face that he was no longer there. This was his shell only. The body that had once held the man she loved.

  “Goodbye, my darling.”

  She went to the phone and called the emergency number.

  “Police, fire or ambulance?” asked the operator.

  “I think I need them all,” she said, clutching the phone with shaking hands. “My husband is dead.”

  She gave her address and ended the call, aware the operator was still talking, but she didn’t care. There was nothing she could say to bring Theo back.

  Theo’s mobile phone rang, vibrating in the pocket of his suit jacket.

  “Leave him alone,” she said, fishing it out.

  It was probably George checking up on him. He always seemed to know when there was something wrong with him.

  It was Rin’s number on the screen. Was Theo psychically connected to his ex-wife, too?

  “Hello,” she said, deciding to take the call.

  “Oh, Skye. Umm, hello. It’s Rin.” There was an awkward pause. “Can I speak to Theo please?”

  “No, you can’t,” said Skye.

  “Is he busy?” Rin asked.

  “He’s dead,” she said, unable to sugar-coat the words. Besides, it didn’t matter how she told her, the effect would be the same. Telling her nicely didn’t make him any less dead.

  “He’s what? Skye, what are you saying?” Rin’s voice was high-pitched. Was she crying?

  “You need to tell Amber.” Skye was aware of feeling like she was outside her body while she was talking. Almost as if she was dead, too.

  “Tell Amber what? What happened?” Rin was practically screeching now. “How did he die?”

  “I’m not sure.” She looked at her beautiful dead husband lying on the floor. “He just came home and ... died.”

  She heard sirens approaching the house. More than one. How many ambulances had the operator sent?

  She ended the call without saying goodbye.

  The silence of the house was in sharp contrast to Rin, who’d been screaming in her ear.

  She pressed the button on her security system to open the front gate, wishing Linda was here to answer the door. She’d gone to the shops for groceries and was taking an awfully long time to return.

  She glanced at Theo, not wanting to go near his body again. She couldn’t cope with it.

  The security system’s screen lit up and she saw two ambulance officers rushing through the gate. She’d told them there was no hurry. Still, she supposed they couldn’t take her word for that. Two police officers followed them through.

  Everyone travelled in pairs. It was almost like they were rubbing it in, that she was the only one alone.

  She opened the front door, smiling out of habit, then realising how inappropriate it was. Her husband was dead. There was nothing to smile about.

  “He’s right here.” She pointed behind her.

  The ambulance officers raced ahead, their only interest in the person it was too late to save.

  The police however, seemed interested only in one person.

  Skye.

  Rin had called Theo to see if he knew why Amber hadn’t turned up at school, not expecting Skye to answer. When she had, she hadn’t expected her to say that Theo was dead.

  Dead.

  Theo was dead.

  She’d heard sirens in the background. Clearly whatever had happened it’d been happening while she was calling.

  How odd that Skye had answered the phone at a time like that.

  This wasn’t possible. Theo was tough. He’d shown her just how tough when he’d left her with a newborn baby.

  He couldn’t be dead. She didn’t even know how he’d died.

  Skye had ended the call without answering any of her questions.

  Rin stood at her kitchen sink wondering what was wrong with that woman. Apart from cancer, of course. Was she in shock?

  “Mummy,” said Rory, tugging on the leg of her pants. “I’m hungry.”

  “Not now, Rory.” Rin wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Mummy’s busy.”

  Her other two children were at school, thankfully. It was hard enough to think with only one of them here demanding she put on her waitressing hat and serve him food.

  “I’m hungry!” Rory wailed.

  Rin went to the pantry and retrieved a packet of chips, opening it and handing it over.

  Rory smiled. Chips were sometimes food saved for special occasions.

  “Party!” he hollered, running into the living room with his bounty before his mother could change her mind.

  Rin leant on the kitchen counter, resting her head in her hands.

  Theo was dead.

  Dead, dead, dead.

  The word echoed in her mind, yet she was unable to attach it to Theo.

  It had to be true. Skye wouldn’t make up something like that. People didn’t joke about those kinds of things.

  Amber was going to be devastated when she eventually answered her bloody phone. Where the hell was she?

  And what the hell had happened to Theo?

  Amber climbed out of the car and heaved her school bag over her shoulder. “Thanks, Jeff. See you later.”

  “Bye,” he called after her. “Sorry again about making you late.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t stress.”

  Jeff had to drop off some papers to a client on the way to school and they’d gotten stuck in traffic, making her even later than usual.

  So far, since living with her mum, she’d only managed to get to school on time once. Her teachers’ patience would’ve worn very thin by now if she weren’t the stepdaughter of the great and wonderful Skye-Manis-who-had-cancer.

  She walked into the school grounds. They were quiet, devoid of the usual hordes of gossiping girls in their push-up bras. It reminded her of a ghost town. There were definite plusses to arriving at this time.

  Her phone buzzed in her bag and she ignored it, distracted by a poster fluttering on a pole near the office. She grimaced when she saw what it was.

  Pray for Skye, it said. There was a picture of Skye overlaid on a background of blue sky with clouds. Very original.

  She tore it down and scrunched it into a ball, wishing there was at least one place in the world she could go without Skye dominating her life.

  She had the urge to run away and spend the day somewhere without anyone asking about her stepmother.

  Without gi
ving it much thought, her feet turned around and she walked out of the school gates, heading towards Armadale Station. Maybe she could go into the city and walk around for a bit or catch a movie.

  Just as she turned onto High Street, a car tooted at her. She jumped, thinking it was Jeff. It pulled to the kerb in front of her and she recognised it as Aunt Sophie’s CRV.

  Great. She couldn’t even wag school without her family finding out about it. All she’d wanted was a bit of space. She hadn’t been planning to rob a bank. Sophie didn’t even live on this side of town.

  “Get in,” Sophie yelled out her window.

  She obeyed, wondering how much trouble she’d be in when her parents heard about this. The way she felt at the moment, she didn’t even care.

  She’d barely closed the car door when Sophie stepped down on the accelerator.

  “Why aren’t you at school today?” she asked, driving at a far too ambitious speed.

  “I forgot it was a day off today.” Amber checked her seatbelt was plugged in properly. “Silly me.”

  She smacked herself on the forehead for extra effect, but soon realised she needn’t have bothered. Sophie was in some kind of trance, changing lanes and beeping at other cars to get out of her way.

  “What’s going on?” asked Amber. “Aunt Sophie, where are we going?”

  They were very close to her father’s house. Surely, they weren’t going there?

  “Cabrini Hospital.” Sophie’s eyes didn’t leave the road. “I saw you. Thought you should come.”

  That didn’t make sense. Something big must be happening.

  “Is Skye sick?” So much for a stepmother-free day.

  “No. George. Hospital called. Poison.” Sophie beeped at the car in front of her to drive faster. “They think he’s been poisoned.”

  “Poisoned!” Amber’s gut dropped, almost like she’d been poisoned herself. “But how could that happen?”

  “Dunno,” said Sophie, not even glancing at her. “He was at your Dad’s last night. Maybe he knows.”

  Amber reached into her bag and started tapping on a phone.

  “Don’t put it on Facebook!” screamed Sophie, piercing Amber’s eardrum.

  “I wasn’t.” Amber resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I just wanted to make sure I have your mobile number in my phone in case we get separated at the hospital. What is it again?”

  Sophie recited her number before blasting her horn at the car in front of her again.

  The hospital came into sight. Sophie pulled into the emergency bay and threw the keys at Amber. “Park this and meet me inside.”

  “But I don’t know how to drive!” Amber protested.

  “Figure it out.” Sophie disappeared, running towards the sliding doors of the entrance without a backwards glance.

  Amber crawled over to the driver’s seat and gripped the wheel. What if the cops caught her driving without a licence? She didn’t want any trouble. She was only a kid.

  She put the keys in the ignition and slowly drove out of the emergency bay. Thank goodness the car was an automatic. It was kind of just like a big go-kart. She could do this.

  She followed the signs to the visitors’ car park, her heart pounding when the car behind her gave her a frustrated honk. She was driving too slowly. She made a silent vow when she was old enough to get her licence, she’d be patient with other drivers. Who knew what stress they were under to make them drive like that? They could be an underage driver, trying to park a car in an emergency for heaven’s sake.

  She managed to negotiate her way through the boom gates and followed the ramp down into the car park. Parking the car was a little trickier. Once she found an available spot, she realised she had no idea how to actually fit the car inside that tiny rectangle.

  After half a dozen attempts, including scraping the car on the adjacent pole, she got it in. Surely Aunt Sophie wouldn’t care about minor damage like that? Uncle George said she was always damaging her car. After the way she’d been driving today, it was no wonder. What was one more scrape?

  Uncle George. She felt sick once more. Was he going to be all right? He had to be all right. He was one of the best people Amber knew.

  Her phone rang and she reached into her bag, expecting it to be Sophie.

  It wasn’t. It was her mum. The school must’ve called her.

  “I can explain everything,” said Amber.

  “Darling. Thank god you’re okay.” Her mother sighed. “Your school called and said you didn’t show up. I’ve been trying to call you all morning. Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

  “I didn’t hear it,” she said. “I’m at the hospital.”

  “Hospital? But your father never made it to the hospital,” her mother said. “How did you hear?”

  “Aunt Sophie saw me as she was driving here,” she explained. “She picked me up. Is Dad on his way?”

  “Hold on,” said her mother. “What are you doing at the hospital? I think we’re talking about two different things.”

  “Uncle George’s been poisoned. What are you talking about?” Amber fought back tears. “Is Dad okay?”

  “Oh, my darling girl,” her mum sobbed. “No, your dad’s not okay. He ... your dad’s dead.”

  Amber dropped the phone like it had given her an electric shock and screamed.

  Sophie ran towards the information desk, her chest aching with stress and exertion. She had to get to George. He’d fight if he knew she was there. He couldn’t leave her.

  George had been working at a site on this side of town. She’d dropped him off at Theo’s place earlier this morning and had only just made it home again when the hospital called. Why couldn’t he have been closer to home? She’d have been at the hospital ages ago in that case.

  None of this made any sense. People like George didn’t get poisoned. He had the constitution of an ox. No, stronger than that. His stomach was like that of a bloody T-rex. Nothing made him sick.

  It couldn’t have been anything he ate, and it wasn’t like a few beers would put him in hospital. If that were the case, they’d need to set aside a permanent bed for him.

  The nurse who called had explained they thought it was more serious than a hangover or a stomach bug. Apparently, they’d called the police. The police! This must have something to do with Theo. People were always trying to get back at him in his line of work. Maybe it was a case of mistaken identity? He did hang around with that thug, Bruno Martini. Nothing good could come from that. She’d told George to talk to Theo about him a million times.

  She reached the desk and explained who she was.

  The woman on duty smiled at her and tapped something into her computer. Her smile was momentarily replaced by a frown, a slip she immediately tried to cover up with another smile, this one more forced than the last.

  “He’s in ICU,” she said. “First floor of the theatre block.”

  “What does that mean?” Sophie clutched the cool timber of the desk in front of her.

  “I’ll take you.” The woman glanced at her co-worker who nodded in response.

  “Thank you,” said Sophie, hoping she’d move faster than the cars on the road that morning. The woman’s grey hair didn’t inspire much confidence.

  “My name’s Bree,” she said, marching down the hallway at an impressive pace. Looks could be deceiving.

  “Is it far?” asked Sophie, not having time for introductions. George could be dying right now. ICU was serious, wasn’t it? Intensive. Care. Unit. Those three words screamed at her, repeating themselves inside her head.

  She could hear her phone ringing in her bag. What had possessed her to set the song Happy by Pharrell Williams as her ringtone? It couldn’t be more inappropriate. It wasn’t possible to answer the call. She couldn’t tell anyone what was going on right now. She didn’t even know herself.

  She followed Bree’s marching legs like her life depended on it. In many ways it did. Her life depended on George and the way to get to him was to f
ollow those legs.

  Her phone rang again, distracting her. What if it rang in the ICU? Especially with that ringtone. She needed to turn it off.

  She reached into her bag and pulled out the phone. There were several missed calls and text messages on the screen, but only one that caught her attention. It was from a blocked caller.

  Prussian Blue is the antidote for Thallium poisoning.

  “Bree,” she called out. “Prussian Blue. We need to get George some Prussian Blue.”

  Bree stopped to read the text message and nodded at Sophie.

  “I’ll deal with this,” she said.

  Sophie let out a breath. George would be all right.

  He had to be.

  The Break

  Detective Hooke sat in the interview room across from Skye Manis. His lower back was killing him, causing him to shift in his seat at regular intervals.

  Skye was an attractive woman. Nice figure, big blue eyes and long blonde hair that shone, despite the dull light overhead. He figured that must be the famous wig he’d read about online.

  He’d expected her to be beautiful. After all, she’d been married to Theo, who Detective Hooke had the pleasure (or perhaps displeasure) of meeting several times over the years when Theo was defending people he’d been trying to put behind bars. Theo had been annoyingly good at his job. Thanks to him there were far too many criminals roaming freely on the streets, instead of pacing up and down in exercise yards. The name Bruno Martini was the first to come to mind.

  “Do you have a lawyer?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No. Do I need one?”

  “That depends on what you have to tell me.”

  She smiled at him in a strange way without parting her perfectly made-up lips and he wondered how Theo had managed to kiss her with all that paint on her face. Poor Theo. It was both easy and hard to believe he’d been murdered. It was always strange when someone you knew died, although in Theo’s case there were many people out there who’d be happy to see him dead. Perhaps that’s why he could relate to him.