by Ben Follows
Most of the Sweetwater family was seated in the first two rows on the left of the church, although Amelia was absent. He frowned and looked around the church for the young girl.
He turned to his left and nearly jumped out of his seat.
Amelia was sitting directly to his left.
“Jesus,” he said, causing a few people around him, including Julia, to shoot him angry glances. “When the hell did you get there?”
Amelia grinned. She was wearing glasses, and her eyes were red from crying.
“He’s not doing anything,” she whispered. “We need you back.”
“What are you talking about?” replied Norman in an equally hushed voice. Julia nudged him with her elbow.
“Detective Franklin,” said Amelia. “He’s not taking it seriously.”
Norman frowned. He looked around the church. Someone he didn’t recognize had taken the stand and was giving a speech about Robin’s work ethic and journalism career.
“Who’s that?” said Norman, indicating the speaker.
Amelia looked up to the front. “That’s Gary Thorne. He was Robin’s boss. My stepdad is his doctor. Gary insisted he give a speech about how great Robin was. He’s a dick who’s way too high on his high horse. I’m sure this speech will be all about how great he is.”
“He was the editor of the paper?”
“Yeah,” said Amelia. “He’s probably going to talk about his sister as well.”
“What about his sister?”
Amelia sighed. “Now I’m going to sound like a bitch. Gary’s sister, Marie, died about a month ago. It was a rare form of cancer. I only heard about it through Robin. Gary used most of his money he had saved for his retirement on experimental procedures that he thought might be able to save her. He’d started running everything at the paper like a slave ship so he could make more money.”
“Seems unpleasant.”
Amelia nodded.
Sure enough, Gary spoke about the loss of his sister and how it had brought him closer to God and to his ex-brother-in-law, Keith, Marie’s husband. There was something about the way he spoke that made Norman uneasy.
“What did you say about Detective Franklin?” whispered Norman.
“He’s not trying,” replied Amelia. “He told us yesterday that he has returned to believing Joel’s death was a suicide and that Robin’s murder was unrelated. He said she was pursuing an idiotic lead and it led her to set up a meeting with a dangerous criminal.”
“He called it an idiotic lead?”
“Not really,” said Amelia, “but I was reading between the lines. He said the criminal only came to the meeting to kill her.”
“You don’t agree?”
“Not at all.”
“Why not?”
Amelia took off her glasses and wiped at her eyes. She looked up to the front of the church. “It looks like Gary’s done. Robin’s coffin is going to be coming through here. I don’t want them to hear what I’m saying.”
They sat in silence as the coffin was lifted by six men and walked out of the church to the waiting hearse.
“Ah, Amelia,” said a nearby voice as the rest of the funeral attendees slowly left the church. Mary Sweetwater stood over them. She looked down at her daughter with disgust and then at Norman. “Come on. Let’s head to the cemetery.”
“I’m going to drive with Norman and Julia,” said Amelia. “He offered me a ride, isn’t that right, Norman?” She squeezed his hand until Norman’s hand hurt.
“She can come with us,” said Norman.
“Are you sure?” said Mary. “We need to stay together as a family.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” said Amelia, standing and getting in her mother’s face. “I’m going with them and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
The staredown between mother and daughter lasted until there was a palpable tension in the air.
Gary passed by with a man whose shoulders had sunk below his chest.
Amelia leaned back from her mother, infuriating the older woman, and whispered, “That’s Keith, Gary’s ex-brother-in-law.”
Norman nodded. Keith was slouched over and looked like he hadn’t showered in weeks. He stared at the ground and seemed to be focusing on the tile floor as hard as he could.
Amelia turned back to her mother and smiled. “I’ll see you at the cemetery. Bye, Mom!”
Mary Sweetwater stood still for a few seconds. Harold walked up to her.
“Come on,” said Harold, grabbing his wife’s arm. “Let’s go.”
Mary shot an angry glare back at her husband, but he held firm and didn’t flinch. “Come on,” he said. “The car is waiting.”
Mary turned to Norman. “If you so much as put a finger on my daughter, I will end you.”
Julia stepped between Amelia and her mother, blocking Mary’s view of Norman.
“Hello, Mrs. Sweetwater,” she said, holding out a hand and giving the older woman her biggest, friendliest smile. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. My name is Julia. I’m Norman’s fiancée.”
“Hello,” said Mary, apparently thrown off by Julia’s friendly demeanor. “You’ll take care of Amelia?”
“I can take care of myself,” spat Amelia.
“We’ll take care of her,” said Julia. “We’ll see you at the cemetery.”
Mary nodded and let herself be pulled away by her husband.
Once they were out of sight and the church had mostly cleared out, Norman stood and took out his phone.
They walked out to the car and climbed inside. As they pulled out of the parking lot and into the procession of cars heading to the cemetery, Norman said, “I’m off the case. There’s nothing I can do.”
“I know that you want justice for Robin,” said Amelia. “I saw that when I came to your apartment. You might not have known her that well, but you believe in justice.”
They parked at the cemetery and walked out with the gathered mourners.
“You have to remember what’s at stake here,” said Amelia as they walked. “There is a murderer out there who has taken out two members of my family. Who knows what will happen next?”
Norman swallowed, and Julia squeezed his hand as a reminder.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “The police have this under control. If there’s anything to find, Detective Franklin will find it.”
Amelia scoffed. “You don’t really believe that, do you? Robin was investigating the case by herself, and now she’s dead. You could have saved her.”
Norman spun. Amelia almost walked into him.
“What is your problem?” said Amelia as she looked up at him.
“What’s my problem?” said Norman. “What the hell is your problem?”
Amelia crossed her arms and leaned back with a smirk.
“I can’t get involved again,” said Norman, thinking of the money he’d taken.
“Then I will.”
“What?” Norman’s eyes opened wide, and he stared down at her.
Julia tugged at his arm. “They’re starting. We should head over there.”
“One second,” said Norman. “What did you mean, Amelia?”
Amelia smirked. “If you don’t get back on this case, then I’m going to start investigating everything Robin found. I’m either going to find out who killed my brother and sister by myself or I’m going to end up just like them. And I want you to know, if I die it will be entirely your fault.”
Amelia walked away, leaving Norman standing in the middle of the cemetery road.
“Come on,” said Julia, tugging on his arm again. “They’re starting.”
They turned and walked toward the mourners gathered around the grave. They took a spot near the back of the crowd as the final words from the minister were said and Robin’s family members were given an opportunity to put flowers on the casket. Amelia got in the line, and Norman watched her try to hold back tears as she walked up to her older sister’s casket.
“It’s sad, isn’t
it?” said a voice to Norman’s left.
He turned. Detective Franklin was standing next to him. The potbellied man had his hands in the pocket of his suit.
“Yes,” said Norman, trying to ignore the man.
“That’s a very nice ring you have there,” said Franklin. “You’ve gotten engaged since the last time we spoke?”
“Yes,” said Norman. He gestured to Julia. “This is Julia, my fiancée. Julia, this is Detective Franklin.”
Julia shot him a wave.
“It looks expensive,” said Franklin. “I didn’t think you could afford a ring like that on your current income.”
“I found the money,” said Norman.
Franklin chuckled. “I’m sure you did.” Then he lowered his voice to a whisper. “I received a call from the lawyer of Thomas Ruutu the other day. They want to sue me for targeting his client and planting evidence. Do you know anything about that?”
Norman stared forward.
“There is a reason I kept my name out of that investigation,” continued Franklin. “I didn’t want to be targeted. There is far more going on than you know. You’re in over your head.”
“I told you I’d stay out of it,” whispered Norman.
“Good,” said Franklin, “because if you step into any of my cases ever again, you’ll wish you’d never heard my name. Whatever Thomas gave you will be taken away. Remember that.”
Detective Franklin turned and walked through the crowd. Norman was left standing holding Julia’s hand, a cold sweat running down his back.
“What a dick,” said Julia.
Norman nodded uneasily.
Amelia walked up to the casket and placed a single red rose on the casket. She put a hand on her sister’s casket and whispered something that made her start crying.
Mary and Harold were waiting, but Amelia ignored them.
Norman watched as Amelia walked down the road and out of the graveyard.
No one stopped her.
Chapter 17
“You have to stay out of it,” said Julia, scratching at the ears of a black lab. They were watching a movie but had long since stopped paying attention. “You’re going to be a professional hockey player again. You’re going to be accomplishing everything that you ever wanted. You, me, the dogs, all traveling all over North America and living the dream.”
“I guess,” said Norman, sinking further into the couch. “I just can’t shake the feeling that Thomas is connected to the people who kidnapped me. He has the connections to get me the contract. What if Amelia dies and it’s my fault?”
“What’s really bothering you?” said Julia, holding him close and leaning on his shoulder.
Norman looked around the condo. “Would you love me if I had none of this?”
Julia looked up at him. “What do you mean?”
Norman gestured to the entire apartment. “If I had never been a professional hockey player, if I hadn’t given you employment and a place to live for years, if I hadn’t gotten you that ring, would you still love me?”
Julia pushed away from him and stood, glaring down at him. “I’m offended you would even ask a question like that.”
She turned and walked to the bedroom, slamming the door.
Norman was left sitting in the living room with nine dogs around him.
Half an hour later, he walked to the bathroom and could hear Julia snoring from the bedroom. He gathered up a few notebooks from around the apartment and laid them out on the coffee table. There were too many things swarming around in his head, fighting for space. He turned on the coffee machine and poured himself a cup.
Snow fell outside the window, giving the night a serene feeling.
Norman wrote down everything he knew about the case and put it to one side of the table.
Then he put everything he knew about the people involved in the case, from Thomas Ruutu to Pocket Change to Detective Franklin to the Sweetwater family, on the other side of the table.
In the center of it all he put a pros and cons list for his options.
Within a few hours, the pot of coffee had been emptied and refilled twice.
At six in the morning, he realized that he needed help to make his decision. He gathered up his seemingly endless notes and put them into a bag. The dogs glanced up at him as he left.
There was only one person who could give him the answers he wanted.
Norman drove to the suburb of Milton and stopped at a small but well maintained house.
He parked and grabbed his backpack. The sun was high over the horizon, and he could see two shadows moving inside the house.
He took a deep breath and walked to the front door.
He knocked then stepped back. His heart pounded as heavy footsteps approached the door. The man who opened the door had a full head of blindingly white hair.
“Hey, Uncle Rob,” said Norman.
“Norman,” said Rob, stepping onto the front step and closing the door behind him.
“It’s good to see you, Uncle Rob,” said Norman.
“You know what you have to do to get inside,” said Rob, crossing his arms. “Otherwise I’m going to tell you to get off my property.”
Norman took a deep breath and looked down at the ground. “I admit it.”
Rob scoffed. “Look me in the eyes when you’re talking to me and tell me exactly what you did. You look like a coward.”
Norman gathered up his courage and looked up, meeting Rob’s eyes. He swallowed. “I took steroids and cheated to get into the NHL. Everything they’ve said about me is true.”
Rob’s face was an unreadable mask for a few moments, then he nodded. “Come inside. Anita’s making breakfast.”
“I just want to talk,” said Norman.
“Nonsense,” said Rob. “Get inside or I’ll drag you in.”
Norman hesitantly stepped into the house. He hadn’t been inside since his scandal. He had refused to admit his guilt, and Rob, a man to whom honor mattered above anything else, had banned Norman from his home until he admitted his guilt.
Now he needed his uncle’s advice. The price of that was finally swallowing his pride.
He walked into the kitchen, where Anita, a small woman with gray hair, was cooking.
“Norman,” she said, as though it had been hours instead of years since they’d last spoken, “can I get you something to drink?”
“Orange juice and a coffee would be amazing.”
“Coming right up. Eggs are scrambled, right?”
“I’ll have them however you’re making them, Aunt Anita.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “I’ll make you a new batch. Give me a few minutes.”
Rob came into the kitchen and took his seat at the head of the table.
He picked up a newspaper and held it out in front of him, reading the first few pages of the paper, then the sports section, and then putting it down and taking the offered breakfast from his wife. It was a routine Rob and Anita had followed every morning for as long as Norman could remember, and he knew better than to interrupt it.
A few minutes later, Anita served breakfast. She put plates of eggs, bacon, and toast on the table in front of the two men then walked to the sink and began washing up.
“Alright,” said Rob once he had finished his food. “Come with me into the living room and we’ll discuss whatever’s eating at you.”
“Don’t you have work?” said Norman.
Rob laughed. “It’s Saturday. The factory is closed today.”
Norman thought for a moment and then realized he was right. Somehow, he had lost track of what day it was. He joined his uncle in the living room.
“So,” said Rob, taking a seat in the La-Z-Boy set up in front of the television. “What’s the problem?”
Norman emptied the backpack and took Rob through everything that had happened over the last week. He left nothing out.
When Norman had finished, Rob said, “You’re wasting your time.”
Norman frowned. “Wha
t do you mean?”
Rob said, “What happened to the cocky kid who never let anything get him down? This wishy-washy bullshit has never gotten anyone anywhere.”
Norman shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Give me this.” Rob grabbed the pro-con chart that Norman had laid out in front of him during his explanation. It was covered in writing on both sides.
Rob crumpled up the page and threw it into the corner of the room.
“What did you do that for?” said Norman.
“You don’t need it,” said Rob. “A pro-con chart is just an easy way to justify bad decisions. You already know what you should do.”
Norman gritted his teeth. “I came here for advice because I don’t know what to do.”
Rob settled into his chair. “When you were a kid, I remember asking what you wanted to be when you grew up. You said NHL player. I tried to explain how much of a longshot that was, but you weren’t listening. You didn’t care. You believed in your soul that your dreams were going to become reality.”
Norman shook his head. “Those were the dreams of a young boy who didn’t know how the world worked.”
Rob shrugged. “The world only gets you down if you let it. Live a life where you don’t have regrets.”
“Everyone has regrets.”
“Do I look like I have regrets?” said Rob. “I am living exactly the life I dreamed of. It might seem pedestrian to someone like you, but for me this is exactly the life I dreamed of as a child.”
“So what decision should I make?”
Rob shrugged. “I can’t make that decision for you. Pursue the case or walk away. Whatever decision you make, stick with it.”
“When you say it like that, it makes it seem like I have no choice.”
Rob shook his head. “You can walk away. There’s nothing stopping you.”
Norman laughed. “I was honestly hoping you would tell me about a third option I wasn’t seeing.”
Rob smirked and gestured at all the pages on the table. “Clean this up. Do you want a coffee?”
Norman shook his head, seriously wondering why he had come here.