Alive After Friday (Sandy Reid Mystery Series)

by Rod Hoisington

  A month ago he had proposed. Her feelings of independence and selfishness had previously driven her toward her goal of finishing school and becoming a lawyer. The feelings had been so much a part of her for so long, she was unsure she could commit to the dependency and sacrifices of marriage. Her excuse for waiting was that she wanted to show the world that she could make it on her own. Now that she had received a huge fee for a novice lawyer, Chip was hoping that time had come. She cherished her freedom and was still reluctant to buy into the one man for the rest of her life idea. She told him she wasn’t ready. Was that another regret? She now wished she had at least agreed to move in with him. She would have had more memories.

  She couldn’t believe she’d dozed off but was suddenly aware of how still and quiet the room was, except for the reassuring beep of the monitor. She’d been crying and wasn’t entirely alert, but thought she heard him whisper her name. She abruptly straightened and placed her hand on his arm to reassure him. She was startled to feel his body suddenly relax under her grasp. She’d never seen his body so limp even in sleep.

  Then the vital signs monitor at his bedside struck the worst kind of alarm. She yelled. ICU personnel scrambled into the room. They pushed her aside. She kept repeating his name, calling out to him as if somehow it would help them.

  After a few frenzied minutes, they pulled their hands back, put their arms down to their sides and glanced at each other. No one moved to look at her.

  A heavy tightness filled her body. She steadied herself with her arms on the edge of the bed and leaned over him. Everyone stepped back away. She kissed him and put her cheek next to his warm cheek. She felt she was choking. Gasping for air, she whispered, “You’ll live forever in my heart, Chip.” His head rolled to one side away from her.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  During the following hours, Sandy had difficulty concentrating and identifying her emotions; thoughts seemed scattered and senseless. Martin told her later that she had stood outside the hospital talking with friends until after midnight. Over Martin’s objections, she insisted on driving her own car home. He could sense that in spite of her distress and fatigue, she seemed capable, but he thought driving an unnecessary burden for her.

  He followed her to her apartment. She seemed fine driving mechanically as though on autopilot. After parking in her usual spot behind the apartments, she walked back around the building. The powerful perfume of night-blooming jasmine overwhelmed her; how dare it smell so sweet on this particular night. She came back out to the curb and sat with Martin in his car. The day had begun with Chip alive, and she didn’t want it to end.

  They talked for another hour. He suggested she stay at his home for the night. Amelia, his father’s live-in caregiver, would settle her into the guest room and their housekeeper would arrive early in the morning and be busy in the kitchen for her to chat with.

  Nevertheless, Sandy wanted to be alone and he understood. She was exhausted and needed the seclusion and comfort of her own surroundings. She hadn’t broken down into any sort of histrionics, nevertheless, he knew her. She wasn’t delicate but not indestructible. At some point she’d crash and let it all out. He wouldn’t let her go until convinced she’d be all right alone.

  She said goodbye to him at the front door and slowly went up the stairs to her small studio apartment. She kicked off her shoes and shed her blouse and pants, leaving them where they fell. She curled up on the twin-sized bed that just fit into the window nook. Her patchwork quilt would be a shield against the world. She covered herself, pulled her knees up almost to her chin and tried to make everything disappear except thoughts of Chip. They had just decided they wanted to be in love with each other forever—they were given less than two years. Twenty minutes later, she woke up gasping, her heart pounding and echoing in her head. Sleep never came. The stars had fallen from the sky.

  In the morning her emotions were becoming clearer; at least she knew she was sad and mad. Sad that he wouldn’t get to live out his life—if anyone deserved to do that, it was Chip. And mad at just about everything. The world wasn’t a nice place. She had another episode of the wave of tightness overtaking her body with the feeling of choking. She went back to bed and wrapped herself in the quilt until it passed.

  She showered mechanically later that morning and was tired from the effort. It hadn’t mattered anyway. What difference did a shower make? Utterly unimportant. She should have stayed in bed. She set out cereal for breakfast but decided she wasn’t hungry. A wave of tightness in her body overtook her and the choking feeling returned. She moved over to her bed, rolled over onto her stomach and starting sobbing. She immediately sat back up. What was she doing—lying around blubbering and wallowing in self-pity?

  At mid-morning, she felt better. She made a cup of tea and phoned Martin, asking if she was supposed to be doing something. A memorial service was planned, he said. There was nothing for her to do. He’d be at the office later if she needed anything or wanted to get out of the apartment. They could go for a little drive, perhaps walk along the beach. Sure, she could go to the office or the beach, except she didn’t have the energy and what would be the point?

  In the days preceding the memorial service, the feelings of grief seemed to flow away and return less frequently. She did leave her apartment several times. Once to drive to the beach and just sit and then another time with Martin. During that last drive with him, he took her aside and explained that a few weeks back Chip had asked, since he felt they had a committed relationship, that her name be put on the deed to his house as a joint tenant with right of survivorship. He had asked that Martin not say anything. Martin had taken care of the details. The legal paperwork was filed and completed. Chip’s house belonged to her.

  She almost screamed that she couldn’t deal with the house. Didn’t want it, didn’t want to take care of it and didn’t even want to think about it. Martin explained that he hadn’t mentioned it earlier for just that reason; he didn’t want her worrying about the house until she felt better. After she settled down, she did agree to meet Eddy Jaworski over at the house.

  He had the place all safe and secure, but wanted her to retrieve any clothes or personal items she had there, before he temporarily locked it up and gave her the keys. She could come back anytime, and the house would sit there until she wanted to deal with it. It bothered her to be in the house. She opened his closet, swooned over the scent of the clothes and left as soon as possible. Eddy was patiently waiting for her. Then she remembered the CD’s; the music that contributed to their falling in love and was the soundtrack of their romance. She went back into the house and gathered the CDs.

  She had difficulty sleeping the night before the memorial service. It seemed she’d been awake longer than she’d slept. When sleep didn’t come, she became tired of lying in bed. She sat up and turned on the reading light she’d clipped on the headboard. She fumbled her hand down beside the bed and picked up the top book of three gathering dust on the floor—a worn copy of Sense and Sensibility, which she had impulsively bought for a quarter at a yard sale. She’d always meant to read it.

  She started reading. Apparently, it helped, as she was barely ten pages into the book when she caught herself nodding. That’s when she thought she heard the click of her apartment door. She raised her eyes from the book and looked across the short span from her bed to the door. With all the upset to her usual routine, had she forgotten to lock it? She watched as the door silently began to swing open. There was the silhouette of a man standing in the doorway, his tall profile outlined in silver by the dim light behind him in the hallway. She wasn’t afraid; she knew who it had to be. Although, his visit in the middle of the night was surprising, she didn’t object. She beckoned to him. He slowly crossed the room, sat on the edge of her bed and reached out for her. She had longed for him to hold her again. He gathered her into his arms, and she was lost in his familiar warmth. How had she lived before he came into her life? No one would know what this man she’d come
to know had meant to her. He heard her crying. He held her out at arm’s length, gave her that killer smile of his and kissed the tears on her cheeks. He didn’t speak but looked deeply into her eyes; he was telling her he loved her, that she wouldn’t be lonely and to not let life get her down. He pulled her to him and their lips met, and as they kissed for the last time he simply faded away.

  Chapter Thirty

  An officer of the law slain in the line of duty is justifiably a big deal whether in a large city or a small one such as Park Beach. Hundreds turned out for the memorial service to mourn Detective Sergeant Ronald Goddard, Jr., son of the former police chief. Police officers and sheriff deputies, as well as personnel from the two adjoining counties, joined members of the public to attend the mournful farewell. A few neighborhood businesses closed and some county offices including the courthouse nearly emptied as well.

  At first, Sandy didn’t recognize some of the city and county detectives as she had never before seen them in uniform. Detective Eddy Jaworski seemed to know everyone and functioned as an unofficial greeter introducing and ushering people around. Sandy didn’t know or even recognize many of the mourners. Most knew of her relationship with Chip and many assumed the engagement was a fact and marriage a mere matter of time. So, naturally they accorded her the appropriate sympathy.

  Sandy began to sense some were treating her as a near-widow. She resisted. She asked Jaworski early on to not direct people her way. He was a lifesaver. Martin and Mel were at her side and deflected some of the attention. Still, it didn’t stop the looks of people as they approached her trying to think of something to say. Naturally, most introduced themselves as friends of Chip. Commenting for her benefit, on exactly how they came to know him. Their sympathies were appropriate and at any other time, she’d have loved to listen. She understood it was how they grieved and certainly they all deserved to grieve. She graciously greeted them all. Yet, she didn’t welcome the attention, and it intruded on her sorrow, which she felt was quite different from theirs.

  Mel noticed her uneasiness and took the opportunity to whisper, “I don’t believe you realize some of this grieving is for you personally.”

  “I know, they understand I’m the girlfriend, or the fiancée or whatever. Some even believe we’re already married.”

  “Beyond that. You stormed into this town three years ago and went straight to the headlines. You aren’t an unknown. They may not have met you, yet it would be difficult to find someone who hasn’t heard your name or not know what you are all about. Of course, they mourn the loss of a police officer, but not everyone here knew him. Many are here for Sandy Reid because they are sad for you.” He could tell she didn’t realize the name she’d made for herself. “You could run for office.”

  “Nonsense. Of course, a few here are primarily my friends and not Chip’s. Nevertheless, I think you’re stretching things. I noticed Vicki Susane speaking to you and Martin. We exchanged a polite little wave from across the room. I thought Martin was a bit coy when I asked about his drink with her at his club that night. Considering he’s the best catch in Florida it’s safe to assume she’s not here for me.”

  “You just said you didn’t want all the obligatory conversation.”

  “You’re right, I hardly know her. Then she brightened. “I did get a wonderful phone call this morning from my old friend, Linda Call. You remember Linda?”

  “I certainly do. Back when you first came to Park Beach, her newspaper reporting and ceaseless attacks against State Attorney Larry Moran helped shape the public’s negative attitude toward him. She moved away long before the election, but I’ll always believe that indirectly she helped me be elected. How is she?”

  “Happy in Atlanta living with her significant other yet misses Florida. Said she’d move back down in a heartbeat, if she could find a job here. She just heard about the death or would have been down here today in person.”

  The service was beginning. Eddy Jaworski sat in the first row, which quickly filled with friends and co-workers. Sandy sat between Mel and Martin in the second row; it was more comfortable for her not to be a front-row target who everyone felt compelled to engage.

  In spite of that, she was momentarily bewildered when near the end of the ceremony the Marine Honor Guard, who attended as the customary military protocol to honor a former Marine officer, grandly presented her with the folded American flag. She thanked them, turned and presented the flag to the police chief who was equally surprised. She insisted that Chip belonged to his law enforcement family. The chief accepted it for display in Chip’s honor at the police station.

  Indeed, she was the nearest thing to a relative at the ceremony. His mother, and her side of the family, had disappeared and his father had raised him. Sandy had always intended to talk to him about distant relatives one day, but there didn’t seem to be any hurry to draw him out on the subject.

  Mel had located and notified an uncle in Virginia who was Chip’s next of kin but too elderly to make the trip down. The uncle had delivered by overnight express a marvelous collection of photographs of Chip as a youth, in college and in the Marine Corp, for display at the ceremony. Sandy later phoned and thanked him. He insisted that she keep the photos.

  Eventually the mourners dispersed. All the distressing formalities were over. Once again, she was standing alone with Martin and Mel. They had their own dear memories of Chip. She wasn’t the only one grieving in that small group. Standing with them there, sharing the grief, took some of it away from her.

  “How do you feel?” Mel asked her as they left.

  “Empty.”

  Martin said, “Hard to believe I’ll never see him again, that no one will see him again.”

  Never see him? She had to get used to that. She closed her eyes against the thought and saw him clearly for an instant. Somehow she would see his powerful presence as long as she lived.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  As time passed, the feelings of grief seemed to melt away. As the tension in her body lessened, there was room to welcome back the pleasant urges and positive demands of daily living and even an optimism Sandy hadn’t known for days. She would still have her morning shower and cereal. She’d still have her takeout coffee in the office. She’d still buzz by the beach with the top down on her convertible. She was coming back.

  She hadn’t experienced the dreadful choking feeling or shortness of breath for some time. She had visited the office occasionally during the last few days, but left almost immediately as she realized it held no importance for her. On this day, however, she was eager to get back in the routine of living. She wanted out of her apartment. She’d been away too long.

  Her primary desire was that Chip’s killer be found and dealt with. Yet, she was helpless in pursuing justice in that regard. No place for her in that pursuit. Jane, however, was a different situation. Jane deserved payback and the four hundred grand absolutely must be recovered. Sandy did not intend to be powerless when it came to Jane.

  As she parked beside the office and started unlocking the front door, she noticed a familiar man waiting in his dark brown sedan at the curb. She recognized the jerk FBI agent who had interrogated her regarding the extortion as though she were the guilty party rather than the victim. The one who had correctly admonished her for not calling in the authorities before paying the money.

  He left his car and joined her on the step as she unlocked the office. “I believe I’ve seen you some place before,” he said grinning.

  “Never been there.”

  “May I have a word with you?”

  “As long as it’s goodbye.”

  “I came to apologize. I was truly out of line that first day I interviewed you. And I’m embarrassed.”

  “You didn’t interview me, you interrogated me. An interview is where you ask my opinion of the latest movie. An interrogation is when you sit across the table in a little room scowling and treating me as though I was the perp instead of the victim.” She sat at her desk and moti
oned for him to sit opposite in the comfortable brown leather chair. Nice looking, she thought. FBI agents do tend to stay in shape.

  “That was the first I’d heard of you. I didn’t know what Sandy Reid was all about. I feel guilty about coming on so strong. Even so, I still believe you should have contacted us before paying the money.”

  “You’re feeling guilty, now you pity me because I’ve lost my boyfriend.”

  “Okay, I feel pity for you. I’m sincerely sorry for your loss. And I’m sorry I treated you harshly. I apologize.”

  He appeared contrite and she’d been too rough. “Apology accepted. Any progress to report?”

  “Although I can’t discuss everything with you. We’ve ID’d the body found near the equipment shed in Lagoon Park as a Calvin Boyd. We believe he was the male partner of the pair who abducted you.”

  “Well, you do work fast.”

  “We spent some time interviewing possible witnesses and processing the scene at the equipment shed and around the footbridge. The female partner must have been disguised somehow, when she went onto the bridge and picked up the money. We assume she got away on a bicycle.”

  All that brought a smile to her lips. She didn’t feel they had it right. “Well, that’s progress.” They sounded miles away and a month behind, but who knows. Perhaps they had it and she didn’t.

  He said, “I suppose you’re out following some leads around here, although strange I haven’t run into you.”

  “Not doing much lately.” If he wasn’t aware that she’d been crisscrossing Palm Beach County that was fine. At least he wasn’t following her. “The funeral and all, you know. Did you know him?”

  “Met him a couple of times. I wish I’d known him better. Quite a fellow, from what I’ve been hearing.”

  “Quite a fellow,” she repeated stumbling upon the words. “I get a sharp jab when I think about him.”