Love Remains

by Zrinka Jelic

  Jess swallowed and glanced around the Bistro to make sure no one listened. She turned to Olivia and lowered her voice to a mere whisper. “We have this neat telephone feature installed. The reception has a button that allows you to monitor phone conversations. We’re not permitted to use it, though. When I filled in for her lunch break, the boss’s line light lit up and I couldn’t help myself. I just wanted to see if I could find out about payment of the overtime as was promised. Then a woman’s voice came through, sounded like the Mrs. you mentioned. I recognized her voice from the news. Anyhow, they were talking about some hit job and how much money the man asked. She called the boss darling and he replied to her with sweetheart. It was sickening and I should’ve stopped, but couldn’t.” Jess shook her head, staring at her mug. “The computer log showed the monitor was used from the reception desk and Beatrice was sent packing. I never told a soul about this. You know what, now that I’ve told you, I feel better.”

  The noise in the dining room seemed to fade into the distance. Hit job. The man wanted money. Words repeated in Olivia’s head. Dear God, if Jess had gotten the conversation right, Mr. Hiltorn and Mrs. Baldwin had planned to hire a hit man to kill Mr. Baldwin. Somehow the job must’ve gone amiss, because a professional killer would not do the job half way. Could be the pro’s price was too steep. The only way to use this information would be for Jess to testify, but she could lose her job and gain a permanent stain on her résumé as a whistleblower.

  Jess still stared at her coffee, fear etched on her face. Knowing her assistant, Jess could’ve gotten the thing all wrong and out of context. For all anyone knew, the boss discussed a movie he’d seen the night before. Olivia leaned over the table. “It could be nothing.”

  Jess nodded and exhaled loudly. “I hope you’re right.” She picked up the menu tucked at the metal holder in the corner. “They have good salads here.”

  The coffee was abominable so Olivia had doubts about the food. She opened the menu and scanned through the pages. God, the menu listed the meals the restaurant served in pictures, barely any words to describe them. If it weren’t for Jess, who still had not calmed down from her confession, she’d leave. However, the new Olivia needed to start making friends in this world and the next one, and Jess seemed like one already.

  Olivia lowered the cardboard on the table. “When did we become friends?”

  One eyebrow on Jess’s face arched and she flashed half a smile. “When you first started with Intelcorp and lost your presentation, I saved the day and your ass. Everyone thinks me strange for keeping copies of copies, but it proved right more than once.”

  Olivia remembered that panic stricken day, yet not the way Jess described it. “Have I ever thanked you?”

  Jess tweaked her head. “No, but it’s never too late.”

  “Accept my belated thanks.”

  Jess’s smile bloomed to a full grin and she nodded, then made a funny noise at Rosie busily inspecting beads on her necklace.

  Olivia flipped through the glossy pages of the menu. What to do with the boss? Though many had threatened to sue Mr. Hiltorn in the past, his conduct had been unethical, not illegal. This time however, he might not stand a chance.

  Should she disclose Jess’s information to Tom? What if it proved right and brought the trial to a quick end?

  CHAPTER 17

  The digital display on the parking meter counted down the last minute of Olivia’s time. Misery coiled through her with every decreasing second. Jess’s confession kept repeating in her head. Without it, the case could drag on for months. Hiltorn had been very careful and covered his ass well, but he’d overlooked the obvious — the unpredictability of the office bimbo. Unfortunately, poor Beatrice had now lost her job a couple of years before retirement.

  Rosie’s babbling drifted from the back seat and made Olivia chuckle as she stared at the phone in her hand. At the press of the green button, a blank message screen lit up. There was no telling how far Hiltorn would go. Someone needed to stop him. Her thumbs worked fast, typing the text. The boss and Mrs. Baldwin seem in cahoots on killing their victim.

  She hit the send button and pulled out of her parking with three seconds left on display. A small car slipped into her spot and the driver of the van waiting for her space screeched its brakes. A horn blasted, shrill and furious. Oh, how she missed downtown.

  The light turned red at the second intersection and her cell chimed. The detectives pressed him hard in an interview yesterday, but he played dumb. Talk soon.

  The blue numbers on the clock read twelve twenty. Almost three hours before she had to meet Milo’s school bus. She hadn’t had lunch this early in months, well since she had “stopped” working. She responded to Tom. Got the list you left on the fridge. Going to stop at the grocery store.

  The extensive list took longer than she expected. Back home more than an hour later, she pushed the garage door button. Tom’s sedan sat parked in its spot. He was home early. She eased her van next to his vehicle and got out. With Rosie in one arm and diaper bag in the other, she paused by the door, doubt over whether disclosing Jess’s information was a wise idea clouding her thoughts.

  Olivia shook her head. No, she’d done the right thing even if her action would cause her to lose her family sooner. What was done couldn’t be undone. She must not impede the trial for her selfish reasons. The angel had been clear in her demands. Tom or Tadem. But would it be fair to trade her sister’s life for Tom’s? Her life with Tom and their children would come to an end — keeping the information to buy another day or two was wrong.

  She stepped in the foyer. Milo’s crying, the sound broken up with retching, drifted from upstairs. The school dismissal was at three thirty, the bus should drop him at the stop by four. Why was he home over an hour early?

  “Tom.” Her voice echoed in the hallway with high ceiling. She set the diaper bag on the wooden bench.

  “Upstairs bathroom.” His voice carried urgency.

  She took the stairs by twos and froze in the doorway. Tom held Milo’s head over the toilet. Heaves convulsed Milo’s thin shoulders.

  “Oh god.” To see her child this sick dropped her heart to her stomach.

  Milo’s vomiting ceased. Tom cradled his small body in his arms, wiped his mouth with a damp cloth, and kissed the boy’s head. “You’ll be fine, buddy.” When he leveled his eyes with hers, concern flashed in them. “School called me after lunch. They called the house first, but got the answering machine. I’ve sent you a few texts. Did you get them?”

  “I … ” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “I forgot my cell in the car then didn’t check it when I got back in. I wanted to get home. I don’t understand — he was just fine this morning.”

  Worry edged Tom’s face. “Kids can get sick quickly, but this is not normal. School said they don’t have any cases of a stomach bug going around. I’ve lost count of the times he threw up in the past hour. If it’s food, I hoped it would stop by now. We should get him to the emergency room.”

  She nodded, her eyes refusing to blink. “Let’s go.”

  She followed Tom as he rushed from the bathroom to the garage, a whirlwind of worry.

  She tried to calm down with a long sigh. But her hands wouldn’t stop shaking and strapping Rosie into her seat proved impossible.

  Tom took over the job. “He’s quite limp. Did he eat something no one else did?”

  Olivia’s mind raced to the breakfast time. Her hand flew to her lips. “Oh god. He said the milk on his cereal tasted funny. But he never likes to eat in the morning and I forced him to take one more spoonful.”

  Without another word, Tom ran into the house and re-emerged with a carton of milk inside the plastic bag.

  The mad dash to the hospital passed in worry and constant turning to check on Milo in the back seat. His pale face and dark circles made him appear sicker by the second. What could make him this ill this quick?

  Tires screeched in front of the glass entrance. Tom’s shoulders
rose and fell as if he had run to the hospital. “Take him in. I’ll park and come back with Rosie.”

  Olivia scrambled out of the car, scooped Milo in her arms and dashed for the triage station. “Quick! He’s very sick.”

  The thin nurse waved her hand at the orderly, her expression blank. Must’ve reached her quota of caring. “First, we need to enter the boy in our system. I need his health card.”

  Of course, the protocol first, saving lives second. Screaming frantically and causing trouble would solve nothing. Better to behave and abide by the rules. Olivia reached into the diaper bag and pulled out her wallet. Did she even carry the kids’ health cards with her?

  The orderly rolled the gurney close to the station. “Ma’am, you can put the boy down.”

  She eased Milo onto the bed, his skin white and cold. Then she pulled his health card from her purse and handed the green plastic rectangle to the nurse.

  “Take the seat in front of that window.” The nurse pointed to the clear, divider on the side of the waiting room filled with rows of blue vinyl chairs occupied by a few individuals.

  Olivia reluctantly stopped brushing her son’s hair and stepped away from him. Another nurse took the card from the triage and sat in front of the computer. She proceeded to ask questions about Milo’s health history. Olivia somehow knew the answers to what childhood diseases and vaccinations her son had, and that he had never been hospitalized before.

  Tom came in through the sliding doors, pushing Rosie in her stroller. “What did they say?”

  “Nothing yet, just entering his info into their system.”

  Rolling onto his side, Milo moaned, his arms wrapped around his stomach. His knees bent, he rocked.

  Tom stepped to the nurse behind clear glass window. “My son’s in pain, please hurry.”

  Her ponytail bobbed with her nod, but she didn’t turn her head from the computer screen and the click-click of her typing never stopped. “I’m working as fast as I can.”

  The printer behind her buzzed to life and spit out three bracelets. The nurse pulled them from the tray. She squeezed her large frame through the narrow break between partitions and wrapped one white, stiff paper around Milo’s wrist and handed the other two to Tom. “These are your IDs so you can enter and exit the E.R. area freely. The kids’ express clinic hasn’t closed yet. We paged the pediatrician to see him right away.”

  The same orderly reappeared and pushed Milo’s bed to the examination room. Moans of pain replaced Milo’s cries. Olivia chewed on her nail while her stomach tightened with every passing second. She glanced at the clock above the bed. Thirty minutes since they’d been shown into this square room and still no one had looked at her son. What was keeping the doctor? The nurse had said they paged him. Every second was important.

  A young, black man in green scrubs knocked on the frosty glass door and introduced himself as Milo’s doctor.

  He stepped to Milo’s bed. “How’re you doing, buddy? Not too good, I see.”

  With a sigh Olivia lowered to the chair next to the bed. The doctor’s arrival seemed to loosen her spine a bit. At least he tried to sound cheerful, but she caught a concern in his voice.

  “No one else sick?” The doctor pulled on Milo’s lids and flashed the light in each eye. Milo blinked fast and jerked his head to the side. He then lifted the boy’s shirt. Milo cried out when he pressed on his stomach.

  “No, thank god.” Tom’s worried stare at his sick boy squeezed Olivia’s chest.

  The doctor turned to her. “Did he ingest something no one else did? At home or school?”

  “We think it could be the milk. I take soy milk, Rosie is on formula.” Olivia shot a questioning glance at Tom. He shook his head. “My husband didn’t have any.”

  “Do you have the milk?” The doctor pushed the glasses up his nose.

  “Yes,” she shouted in unison with Tom while he raised his hand holding the bag.

  “We’ll run tests on Milo, but his swollen stomach suggests some kind of poisoning.” The bag rustled when the doctor took it from Tom. “Our lab will confirm my suspicion and find out what type of poison could’ve been used.” Then he turned to Milo on the bed. “In the meantime, we’ll get some fluids into him. A nurse will set him with the IV.”

  After the doctor left, minutes stretched like hours. Olivia exchanged a few words with Tom, but couldn’t stop blaming herself for forcing Milo to eat more of his breakfast. A nurse attached an IV in Milo’s pale hand, took his blood sample, then left the tiny room.

  The heavy silence, punctuated with the uncaring tick-tock of the clock on the wall, finally pushed Olivia over the edge. She broke down into sobs. “It’s my fault. I should’ve smelled the milk and dumped his breakfast. Instead I … ”

  “Stop that.” Tom placed sleeping Rosie on the edge of Milo’s bed and surrounded her with pillows. He stepped close and pulled her into his embrace. “Not another word of this. You couldn’t have known.”

  The warmth and closeness of his body, coupled with his sea scent and his gentle swaying calmed her storm of guilt. With one last snivel, she wiped her eyes and locked her gaze with his. Getting hysterical wouldn’t help Milo.

  The doctor knocked on the door and peeked in. “I need to talk to you.”

  Tom pulled away from her. Cold air crawled into the space where his closeness had warmed her.

  Creases on the doctor’s young face worried her, but in the next instance, he flashed them a reassuring smile. “Milo’s color is returning and his breathing sounds less labored.” He paused, glancing at the floor, then raised his head, a serious look on his face. “However, we found a few pellets of Ratoxin in the carton.”

  Tom scowled. “Rat poison? We don’t have anything like that in the house. How the hell did that get into the milk?”

  A whole new fear stiffened Olivia. Her shaking hand pressed to her trembling lips. All words left her mind. In cases like this parents were held responsible for endangering their children. She already blamed herself plenty for forcing him to eat.

  “The good news is there are only traces of it in Milo’s blood. But enough to make him quite sick.” The doctor turned to her. “You didn’t shake the carton before you poured the milk?”

  With one hard swallow, she mustered enough voice. “No, I never do.”

  The doctor shrugged one shoulder. “That in itself is good, since the pellets fell to the bottom and didn’t dissolve completely. I was correct to administer a dose of vitamin K. Milo will be fine, but we need to keep him overnight for observation.”

  Tom’s shoulders and chest rose and fell with his fast breaths. “I’d say this was targeted to all of us. Whoever did this assumed we all consumed milk. If I catch the person, I’ll pound the shit out of him and I don’t care if I lose my lawyer’s license.”

  Whether from the doctor’s good prognosis or the rage burning in Tom’s eyes she didn’t know, but Olivia’s tears streamed freely down her face.

  Tom yanked the cell out of his jacket pocket. “The doctor may have reported this to the police, but I need the results now.”

  Phone pressed to his ear, he paced at the foot of the bed. “Detective Maloney, please … yes, I can hold … detective, Tom Medar. Sorry to disturb you, but the matter is pressing. I’m in the hospital, my son’s been poisoned. I suspect it was meant to kill all of us.”

  Tom nodded and after a few minutes added, “Thank you, detective. I appreciate your help.”

  He lowered to a chair next to her. He took her hand in his and laced their fingers, his face mellowing. “Detective Maloney will take this personally. We can’t go home until his men are done. Our house is now a crime scene.”

  “Oh god,” she cried, burying her face in her hand.

  “We’ll check into a hotel for the night.” He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.

  “You take Rosie, I’ll stay with Milo.”

  “Honey, he’ll be fine and you need to rest so you can help him tomorrow when he wakes.
” Tom gestured toward the baby. “And Rosie needs her mom, too.”

  With heavy heart, Olivia rose to her feet, kissed Milo’s now warm forehead, and grabbed the diaper bag. “You’re right.”

  • • •

  The next morning Milo welcomed them with a big smile. “Mom, Dad, Rosie!”

  Dark circles framed his eyes, but he was cheerful and even had a glass of apple juice. With the threat gone, tiredness settled over Olivia. She barely kept her eyes open while yawn after yawn stretched her mouth wide. Though Tom had checked them into a cozy hotel, her worry hadn’t allowed her a wink of sleep.

  Tom kept glancing at his cell phone, but no calls came.

  Just before noon a tall, burly man in dark suit knocked on the room’s door.

  “Detective Maloney? Come in.” Tom gestured with his head, then pointed at Olivia. “I don’t believe you met my other half.”

  “Correction, she’s your better half.” The detective nodded to Olivia and pulled off his leather glove then extended his thick hand. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Detective Maloney’s an old school gentleman.” Tom pointed at the chair in the corner and the unexpected guest took his seat. “Any news?”

  “There’s a sign of forceful entry on the patio door.” Detective Maloney took off his tuque and smoothed his graying hair.

  Tom hammered his fist into his palm. “Damn, I thought I checked that sticky lock before going to bed.”

  A loud breath through his bulbous nose rustled the detective’s thick mustache before he spoke. “We interviewed the neighbors and turns out the young man down the street saw someone snooping around your house at wee hours. Your neighbor gave us the description of the suspect and the vehicle he left in, along with the license plate. Didn’t take long to locate him. The guy had many priors for petty crimes and was already in custody for drunken and disorderly conduct. He played dumb at first, they all do, but when I told him his daddy won’t save him this time, he squealed how his old man put him up to it.”