Clean Lines (Cedar Tree #4)

by Freya Barker

  "I don't know. I...I guess...I keep expecting something to go wrong, you know? Like this past week has been the quiet before the storm? I just want to make sure at least the move would go off without any surprises." She drops her head to my shoulder and I pull her into a tight hug.

  "I've talked to the guys and put a call in to Dooley to keep an eye out for that green Toyota. Neil did a bit of a trace on the partial number you remembered but had gotten no hits before we left. He'll check again when he's done. Can't tell you to stop worrying, but we're on it."

  A knock on the mudroom door is Neil asking where to put a ratty old club chair.

  "Sorry, Doc, but that thing is butt-ugly," I tell her when we walk into the hallway and see the lime-green stained chair sitting in the hallway.

  "I know, but Fox loves it. He says it's comfy for gaming. I didn't tag it, hoping that by some miracle it'd be left behind, ‘cause Fox won't let me throw it out, but I see you guys are diligent," she says with something near disappointment on her face.

  "I can see why he likes it," Neil says, earning a snort from Naomi. "It's one of those chairs you can hang in all day; lay back with your legs over the side. By the way, when I pulled off the seat cushion, I spotted this sticking out between the armrest and the springs." He pulls a disc case out of his pocket and hands it to Naomi. "Mario Brothers. It's an old one. Haven't checked if the actual game is in there."

  Naomi opens the case and her mouth drops open. Looking over her shoulder I see the disc inside. 'For Mom' is written in permanent marker right on it.

  "Can't believe it was in the house the whole time."

  Emma's come over with a cooler full of sandwiches and drinks for lunch. Seb left a while ago to change places with her at the diner, since Emma volunteered to do the breakfast shift so he could help move. Apparently she had time to fix lunch for everyone here as well.

  We're chatting while the guys are back to Cortez for one last load and I just finished telling Emma about the disc.

  "You figure that's the so-called insurance your ex left behind?"

  "Don't know. Neil was heading over to the office to see what information he can pull off. He did say it was definitely not the game that was supposed to be in that case. It must've slipped out of Fox's backpack after he came back from Phoenix. He says he can't even remember the last time he played it. I'd never really gone for the violent games, which was one of the reasons Fox and I were having problems. I didn't want that stuff in my house, but when he came back from Phoenix, he brought back all the games his dad gave him. That's all he plays these days."

  Emma laughs. "Wouldn't worry about it too much. When we were young, boys would play with sticks and toy guns pretending to shoot the crap out of each other. I figure this isn't much different, just on a slightly more sophisticated level. Fox is still just playing cops and robbers."

  Huh. Never really thought about it that way, but I guess she's got a point. Cops and robbers.

  Emma's gone to the bathroom while I'm tidying up the lunch leftovers in the kitchen, when the muffled ringing of a phone can be heard. Disoriented with all the boxes surrounding me, it takes me a while to figure out it comes from my messenger bag on top of some of Fox's sports equipment in the front hall, and I go to grab it. I'm surprised to find the front door open and go to close it, answering the phone at the same time. I'm pretty sure the guys pulled it shut when they left for their last run, but maybe it didn't latch all the way.

  "Hey, it's me. Did you want me to drop the keys off at the realtor's office? The house is empty and since he was going to let the cleaners in anyway, we don't really need them anymore, do we?" Joe points out.

  "I guess that'll work, but are you sure you got everything?"

  "Babe, we've checked off every item on your list and once we loaded everything I did a final walk-through of the house. Opened every drawer, every closet; there's nothing but dust bunnies left," he chuckles. I love the slightly hoarse sound of his laugh.

  "By chance, did you guys leave the front door open?" I ask him and am met with a pregnant silence from the other side. "Joe?"

  "Front door was open?" his voice drops an octave and on my confirmation his voice takes on an urgent note. "Emma still with you?"

  "Yes? Oh wait, she went to the bathroom. Maybe she went to grab something from the car. I just didn't hear anything."

  I move to open the door and look out when I hear Joe in my ear, "Stay inside! I'm on my way." The sight of Emma with a gun to her head is the next thing I see when I look to the left, almost dropping the phone. Behind her is a tall blonde, who still looks all too familiar. It takes me a minute to process, but her arm around Emma's neck, the shaking of the gun in her hand and the madness in her eyes brings home the truly fucked up situation.

  "Brenda," I whisper and I can actually hear Joe's intake of breath before he starts shouting to someone with him. Stunned I'm just staring at Emma's tear-streaked face, who is mouthing 'sorry' when I hear his voice soft in my ear.

  "Naomi, tell me what you see, babe."

  The sound of his voice gives me strength and I feel myself standing up straighter as I explain the situation to Joe, my eyes never straying from her crazy ones.

  "Your ex-wife is standing on the porch, holding a gun to Emma's head."

  "Is that Joe? I want to talk to him," the deranged bitch says in a shrill voice, letting go of Emma's neck to hold her hand out for the phone.

  "Give it to her, beautiful."

  Feeling all kinds of possessive, I don't want her near him, not even on the phone. I'd rather throw the phone at her head but the gun now under Emma's chin stops me. I hand her the phone and her entire demeanor instantly changes. Totally freaky. From a shrill lunatic with hatred in her eyes, she turns into a simpering fool using a grating baby-voice when she talks to my man.

  "Joe, how are you, baby? I was going to surprise you, but this is okay too. So glad you're finally talking to me. I've missed your—"

  Slowly the pathetic smile on her face is replaced by a turned-down mouth and flaring nostrils as she listens to what is being said to her, obviously not happy with what she's hearing. I don't know how long it will take the guys to get here, but I can see this going to shit before my eyes. Empty handed, there is little I can do, so I slowly start backing toward the front door, hoping that once I get inside, I'll be able to grab something to use. Not wanting to lose eye contact with Emma, I stay in the doorway, reaching toward the pile of sports equipment that was dropped just inside the door. For once I'm glad Fox is a slob, ‘cause he's the one who was supposed to find a place in the basement for those. My hand is feeling blindly through balls, nets, gloves and other paraphernalia, when I feel a smooth knob under the palm of my hand. Fox's pride and joy only two years ago, before puberty and Xbox made him a stranger, his Louisville Slugger. With my fingers wrapping around the baseball bat trying to get a solid grasp, I give Emma, who's been watching me like a hawk, a small nod.

  "But Joe—" Brenda has been listening to what I assume to be Joe trying to talk her down, and gives it one last effort before she lets out a frustrated scream. She twists to hurl my phone—and with it my connection to the outside world—off the porch. The movement pulls the gun away from Emma's chin and, as if she'd been waiting for an opportunity, Emma twists away and drops to the ground. Before Brenda has a chance to even move, I come at her with the bat already swinging. When she points the gun in my direction, I haul out as hard as I can, managing to hit her shoulder. The shot intended for me lodges itself in the wood of the new porch right by my feet. Not giving her a chance to recover, I immediately swing again, ignoring the sting in my palms from the previous hit. I flinch when the bat hits her to the side of the head, but she goes down like a brick. Emma scrambles over and grabs the gun that has fallen from her hand and sits with her back against the siding of the house, barrel trained on the motionless Brenda. When I see the blood pooling under her head, I let go of the bat and drop to my knees beside her head. I'm supposed to heal not har
m. With shaking hands I start checking her for breathing and pulse, ignoring the head wound I've inflicted for now. Finding no heart beat and no air moving in and out of her lungs, I immediately start CPR yelling at Emma to get her phone and call an ambulance.

  I can't think of anything else right now, this woman's life is in my hands and if she dies, her death will be on my hands as well.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  "Feeling better?"

  Joe is leaning against the doorway to my brand-spanking new bathroom, where I'm taking my first bath in the humongous tub.

  I'd been on the brink of a nervous breakdown ever since he'd pulled me off the porch and into the house, allowing the EMTs to take over compressions. I barely remember the shit I spewed at them, at Joe and at the universe at large; all I remember is being furious for not getting the opportunity to bring back the woman whose life I took. At least so I thought. Word from Drew, the deputy who escorted her ambulance to Cortez, was that sometime during the ride over, the EMTs managed to get a heartbeat. Regardless of everyone's assurance that no matter the outcome, I not only defended myself but Emma as well, morally the struggle I wage is no less now than had she died.

  When the cavalry arrived in the form of Joe, Fox and the guys, followed closely by emergency vehicles one of them had alerted, I'd been in a zone and barely registered the continued apologies coming from Emma, who was in tears the entire time. Silly woman feels responsible, because when she came out of the bathroom and saw a woman's silhouette at the door. She didn't think twice to open the door to see who it was. The barrel of a gun greeting her and the threat that one little sound was going to get both her and me shot, was enough to have her step outside to where Brenda indicated. She doesn't realize I fault myself for pulling everyone into my fucked up vortex. When I tell her that later, after the ambulance has left and we are waiting for word on Brenda, Joe hauls me off the couch.

  "Enough,” he practically growls his demand, “Not gonna sit there and listen to you beat yourself up over a situation that you neither had nor have any control over. If anything, I should've known she was becoming this unhinged. When I saw that green Toyota sitting in the parking lot on the other side of the feed store and realized it had been her, I could've kicked myself for not considering that a possibility. When you mentioned a glimpse of woman at the wheel last night, I actually suspected Jenna. So if any blame is to go around on this, you better include me."

  "Bullshit. The both of you better fucking knock it off," Gus bursts out. "Joe, you should know better than anyone how unpredictable and fucked up situations can get without anybody's help. And Doc? I get that this messes with your head, but if you hadn't acted, my wife could've been dead. Now that possibility seriously messes with my mind."

  Gus is interrupted by Drew's call to Joe's phone from the hospital to let him know Brenda's status. That's when I start shaking with relief and Joe takes me upstairs, not letting go of my arm.

  Filling the tub, the only time he says anything is to tell me to get undressed and get in, while trying to pull my shirt over my head. That's when I start batting at his hands.

  "Would you stop that? I can get myself undressed and in the tub, thank you very much."

  A hesitant smile breaks through the tight lines on his face.

  "There she is—was afraid for a minute that you'd disappear on me, but I'm glad to see the bite is back."

  He pulls me into his chest, his arms banding around me so tight it's difficult to breathe, yet I savor every second of his warmth. I lift my face for a kiss, which he willingly gives into before resting his forehead against mine.

  "God woman, that took twenty years off my life. I'm making sure there is no way in hell we'll have any surprises from the past or the present blindside us like that again. Ever. I wouldn't survive it."

  "Fine by me," I tell him.

  "I'm okay. Better, thanks," she says with a smile.

  I give her some space after making sure she isn't going to have a panic attack on me, finding Gus and Emma talking softly on the couch downstairs. Fox must've disappeared downstairs with Neil, because neither of them are in sight. Outside, some lab techs are busy digging the bullet out of the porch and I know Dooley is out front with some guys looking at the green Toyota. Actually, I see him coming up the stairs right now. Opening the door, I dive right in.

  "And?"

  "Better go inside so Gus can hear too," Dooley says, motioning his head to the living room. "Where's Naomi?"

  "She's relaxing in the tub for a bit. Let her be for now," I tell him.

  "Might be best. Pretty disturbed woman, this ex of yours, Joe. Looks like she's been living out of her car for quite some time. Dirty clothes, food wrappers and garbage. Fucking thing stinks like a dump. Pardon my French," he directs to Emma who waves it off, being used to much worse married to Gus and around the GFI guys all the time. Besides which she can swear up a good storm herself. "Most interesting thing though, underneath the garbage bags full of crap the lab boys hauled out was a crumpled printout with detailed instructions on how to assemble a simple remote timer. Not only that, but a roll of black electrical tape and some wire-clippers. Have a feeling I know why we haven't been able to pin the explosion on Heffler."

  If I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach before, I'm downright ready to puke now. The thought that the woman I'd once thought I loved was this far gone, is beyond my comprehension. I had no idea. I get up with the overwhelming urge to see Naomi when Dooley stops me.

  "If she pulls through, I'm afraid she'll face multiple charges of attempted murder, my friend."

  "Good," I manage to bite off, "Should've stuck her in a mental institution a long time ago."

  No matter what, the burden of responsibility is not one that I'd be able to shake off any time soon. I should've kept a better eye out.

  "My boys will be another twenty minutes or so and by then the flatbed truck should be here to pick the Toyota up and we'll be out of your hair. Can't predict crazy, Joe," Dooley adds, clapping me on the back. Right.

  Leaving Gus and Emma once again I walk Dooley to the door, who tells me he'll be in touch, before heading up the stairs.

  "Care for some company?" I ask Naomi who's laying back in the big master tub.

  "Always," she smiles a little weakly. We have a lot of collective shit to process, but I don't doubt we will.

  "I love you so much," I say, sliding down behind her with my arms and legs surrounding her. She leans her head back on my shoulder and sighs.

  "I know and I love you too."

  A group of our friends is gathered at the big table at the diner already by the time we arrive. Even Katie and Mattias are here and Naomi makes a beeline to see the baby. Mal engages Fox right away and Gus pulls out the vacant chair next to him, motioning for me to sit down.

  Meet us at Arlene's for dinner; 6 PM. Neil's working downstairs - keeping eye on Fox.

  The note in Gus's chicken script handwriting was sitting on the kitchen counter when we got downstairs earlier. With boxes still strewn through the house and kitchenware hidden in one of them, Naomi thought it'd probably not be a bad idea to eat out.

  "Did Neil tell you?" I ask Gus.

  "Called right away and all files have been sent to Phoenix already. Assistant Chief Wayne Carr is pulling in the FBI for this, seeing as the involvement appears to include members of his own police force and extends beyond just his department. This is going to blow up big over there and I think we'll be able to feel the ripples over here."

  Neil had been able to decode the files that were stored on the disc he found in the Xbox game this afternoon. Files with meticulous notes kept by James Miller and some copies of notes and emails showing the widespread corruption and pay-off schemes being facilitated with Bancroft, Miller and Associates as middle men. It appears Naomi's ex was getting uneasy with the increasingly high stakes of the game and was hoping for a way out. Too bad he found it at the wrong end of a bullet. His partner, a number of police officers and de
tectives and a federal judge were implicated with some evidence to back up the claims, but a further number was suspected.

  "Frank Bancroft is being picked up before word leaks that something big is coming down, giving him a chance to run. Sounds like he was in the driver's seat for this scheme," Gus assures me.

  "What scheme?" Naomi asks, taking a seat next to me and just hearing the last of what Gus said.

  "I'll tell you later," I smile at her, happy to be able to at least give her and Fox the knowledge that whatever James had been involved in, in the end, he had tried to make it right. Regretfully, the only people he trusted, and perhaps rightfully so, had been his sixteen-year-old son and his ex-wife. I guess when you spend much of your career paying off or threatening witnesses, city and state officials, going so far as to be an accomplice in arranged hits, all for the sake of buying your wealthy and very criminal clients freedom, you become a little cautious.

  "Who's for chili?" Seb walks up with a big pot, setting it in the middle of the large table. Arlene not far behind with a couple of pans of what looks to be fresh cornbread and pretty soon the conversation around the table shifts to the more positive topics of Mattias, my switch to GFI and the new clinic. As it should.

  It's dark by the time we head to the new house, and once we get there, I find myself locking the doors behind us without thought, never even considering my own house in Cortez, where I can't even remember the last night I've slept. Not thinking too hard about what that may mean, I follow Naomi and Fox down the stairs to the basement, where Fox stretches out in his ugly greenish-yellow chair and Naomi curls up beside me on the couch to watch a movie.

  I can't even tell what the movie is about, my mind is occupied playing out the past weeks and I realize that despite the massive changes in my life, I can't recall a time in recent memory where I was looking forward to the future as much as I am now. Noticing the slight snoring against my shoulder, I find Naomi has fallen asleep at some point, and I wonder if it'd be too soon to suggest I sell my house and just move in here permanently. After about four years of being at each other's throats, we've come together stronger than I'd have thought possible. Funny how dire circumstances can either break you apart or in contrast, forge stronger bonds. Gently wiping the hair that has fallen in front of her expressive eyes now shielded with long dark lashes against her high cheekbones, I'm pretty sure the latter applies to us.