Melba knew what he was telling her, but also knew she had nothing to offer him. She wasn’t in good shape herself, which meant she had to suck it up for both of them. She warred with the idea that anyone should have to take care of her, and discovered she was really more embarrassed that anyone should see her in her current state. Toby and Zhou Li she could deal with – she hadn’t been given any choice and, she admitted, she was thankful for their concern and care. However, the thought of the rest of the characters from Capital Street descending on her was almost too much to bear.
Toby suspected what she was thinking, and decided it was time to bring out the big guns. “Detective Melba, if you don’t accept this with the grace and gratitude their offer deserves, I’ll have to call Madame Zhou and let her know you’re being difficult. I don’t think you want her expounding on the reasons why you should agree. It’s a forgone conclusion that she’d prevail and you’d just wear yourself out anyway. You might as well just give in now.”
“There is no need to make threats, Toby.”
“That wasn’t a threat.”
She knew he was right. “Alright,” she grumbled, “But only if it’s just for a few days.”
He was relieved she was finally seeing sense and decided to cut her a little slack. “We’ll see how it goes and then we can decide.”
Reightman knew how that would work out, but she was tired so she let the subject rest. “Who’s the first person on cripple duty?”
Toby patiently explained the schedule her self-appointed caretakers had arranged, and she sat back against the sagging seat cushions and regarded him blankly. “Toby, why would these people do this for me?” She tried to find a way to explain what was obvious – at least to her. “They don’t really know me. I’m a stranger, and they have no reason to go out of their way to do something like this.”
He gave an exasperated sigh, and just wanted to shake her. She could be so dense sometimes. “Just accept the fact they’re doing it because they’re good people and they want to help. And because….well, you’re not a stranger. You’re part of the gang.”
‘‘What do you mean?”
“You’re part of it now, Detective. You’re a part of Capital Street. You’ve been involved with everything that has happened since Geri was killed, and they’ve gotten to know and like you. I guess you’ve become part of the family.”
Somehow the idea wasn’t as unwelcome and foreign to her as it would have been a few short months ago. “Really?”
“Really. Now, please stop talking and try to make yourself comfortable – or as comfortable as you can – on that sad thing you call a couch. I’m going to make some tea for you and then you’re going to have a nap – if you can nap in here. All of this beige and brown is depressing, and I’m depressed enough already.”
“The couch has blue and green in it,” she said, defensively.
“Yeah, it does,” he agreed from the kitchen as he filled the tea kettle. “But the shades of blue and green in that horrible plaid are the exact same shades found on moldy bread. It’s not a good look – trust me, I got the gay decorating gene.” After he made the tea and placed the mug in her hands, Toby covered her legs with a throw and then turned off the lamp. He sipped his own tea as he watched over her as she slept. “Yes, Detective Melba,” he thought with love, “You’re part of my family.”
Melba slowly recovered. She was thankful to everyone who had taken care of her and was dismayed to find she hadn’t minded their presence nearly as much as she thought she might.
Herman the Red was the biggest surprise. The first day he showed up, he shyly presented her with a large purple crystal. “It’ll help with the healing,” he informed her gravely. “I know some people don’t put much stock in things like this, but it’ll help. Trust me and give it a chance. It just might work.”
When she found out he was once a nurse, she relaxed and just let him do what he needed to do. He’d been a great help during the first days, helping her to the bathroom and into the shower with such professional care she was almost able to retain her dignity. She didn’t know if the glittering rock had done any good, but it certainly hadn’t hurt and she enjoyed the way the light played across its multi-faceted surfaces. Like the rest of the folks on Capital Street, Herman the Red was very different from what she’d assumed when she first met him. Remembering the advice Madame Zhou had given her the day after Guzman’s murder, Melba tried to look beneath the surface and discover who these new friends really were. She was well rewarded for her efforts.
Lindsi was surprisingly good company, and Melba discovered that she wasn’t nearly as doleful as she seemed when she was waiting on customers. She was Bernice’s niece and – like every other teenager Melba had encountered – was just trying to figure out who she was and how she fit into the great big world. After a while, Melba even found the color-coordinated eyebrow piercing endearing, although she had firmly declined Lindsi’s offer to hook her up so she could get one of her own.
Bernice kept her stocked with a selection of healthy and delicious food, and talked about the restaurant. One night as she shared stories about some of the more colorful customer’s she’d had over the years. Melba thought back to her own first visit, and how amused she’d been when Sam discovered that Earth Fruits didn’t serve meat. He’d gamely allowed Zhou Li to order for him and to his surprise, had enjoyed it so much that he’d cleaned his plate. That was also the day she had first heard Sutton Dameron address the public with his hateful rhetoric. She forced her mind away from that memory, and all of the unhappy events which had sprung from Dameron’s pursuit of power.
Moon kept her entertained with her views – liberally sprinkled with a mind-boggling variety of descriptive adjectives – about fashion and the role it should play in everyone’s life, and took it upon herself to rearrange the small closet while Melba napped. She suspected that she’d never see some of her old garments again, but decided it wasn’t worth an argument – all things considered. She thought that maybe Moon had secrets and sorrows of her own, but didn’t pry. Whatever Moon’s story was, it was hers to tell in her own time.
Toby and Zhou Li were – just Toby and Zhou Li – constant and comforting, neither of them above bullying her when they felt she needed a push. Zhou Li would sit with her in the evenings and simply offer the comfort of another presence. Very occasionally, she would talk about her childhood, and Melba noticed she would often worry the joint of her missing finger as she reminisced.
On the surface, Toby was his normal self, but Melba saw the shadows in his eyes and knew he was thinking about his own part in the events of the last few months. He was having a difficult time working through things, but hadn’t shared much of what he was feeling. He was headed for a breakdown and Melba knew that before long, someone was going to have to browbeat him into getting help so that he could come to terms with the fact he’d killed a man, even if it had been in self-defense. But the time for that wasn’t here yet.
Toby stopped by to visit Mitchell in the hospital late one afternoon. Mitchell had been in for several days, but was now doing well. When Toby entered the room, he felt uncomfortable for a moment when Bradley Clark rose from the chair and turned to greet him. Toby took a small step back when he saw the look in Bradley’s eyes. He instinctively knew that if this man had his way, Toby wouldn’t be seeing Mitchell very much in the future.
Before Bradley could speak, Mitchell’s tired but happy voice came from the hospital bed. “Hey, Toby! It’s about time you made it by.”
Relieved at the distraction, Toby turned toward him with a smile. “Sorry it took so long, Mitchell, but to be fair, you weren’t up to company until just a day or two ago.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m ready to get out of here now though! The food is worse than your tuna casserole and that stuff you call spaghetti put together!”
“Hey! My cooking’s not that bad.”
“Toby…Oh
, never mind! I guess I can admit it was filling, but that’s about the best thing I can say about it. Anyway, that’s enough about your awful cooking. Bring me up to speed on what’s going on.”
Toby spent the next few minutes filling in the details, and hearing about what Mitchell had planned for after his release. Bradley didn’t say a word while they talked, and contented himself with shooting angry glares in Toby’s direction. Toby pretended not to notice.
“They say I’ll be able to go home at the end of the week, but I won’t be going back to work for a while. I need to get my strength back first. But Bradley’s going to help me.”
Toby refused to look around and forced some enthusiasm into his voice. “That’s great! I’m sure he’ll spoil you rotten.”
Toby noticed Mitchell was getting tired so he made his excuses, and promised to come back in a few days. He gave him careful hug and started for the door.
“Wait up, Toby, and I’ll walk you out. I could stand to stretch my legs a bit anyway.”
Toby suppressed an eye roll and waited for Bradley to join him. When he reached his side, they started down the hall to the elevators.
As they neared the shiny metal doors, Bradley cleared his throat. “I have something to say to you, Toby.”
Toby continued walking as he addressed the comment. “I thought you might. It was pretty obvious that you weren’t pleased to see me and I can tell by your tone that you’re angry about something.”
“You’re damned right I’m angry! I don’t know why Mitchell thought he had to be the one to pull your ass out of the fire, and I’ll never understand it. You don’t seem all that special to me. But that doesn’t matter, and isn’t really what I wanted to say to you anyway.”
Toby stopped and turned to the man who was glaring at him, and knew he wasn’t going to like this. “Okay. I guess I can see your point. I don’t understand why Mitchell helped me either, but I’m grateful he did. He bought us a lot of time, and I know exactly what would have happened if anything else had gone wrong. You don’t have to beat me up over it – I’m already doing that to myself and don’t need anyone’s help.” When the glare was replaced by cold, hard anger, Toby sighed. “Please, just say what you have to say so I can be on my way.”
“Alright, I will. I want you to stay away from Mitchell. I don’t want you to make any effort to see him again.”
Toby wasn’t surprised, but he be damned if he’d give in just to please him. “How am I supposed to explain that?”
“Leave that to me. I’ll do it in such a way he won’t notice until a lot of time has slipped by, and then it will seem normal.” Bradley held his eyes for a minute longer and then looked away. “You know, I almost hate you.”
“I am close to hating myself these days, so I can understand why you feel the way you do.”
“No, I don’t think you do understand. You see, I don’t hate you for almost getting Mitchell killed. I hate you because there’s something about the relationship between the two of you which has interfered in my relationship with him.”
“I won’t apologize for being Mitchell’s friend, Bradley, so you can just forget about that.”
“If I thought you were just friends, I wouldn’t feel the way I do.”
Toby was surprised by the statement, and didn’t understand where the conversation was headed. He just wanted to get out of here and back to the quiet of his apartment. “Bradley, Mitchell and I have never been anything more than friends.”
Bradley Clark studied him with narrowed eyes and Toby knew the worst was about to come. “If that’s the case, explain something to me.”
Toby gave him a short, curt nod. “If I can, I will.”
The man was silent for so long, Toby decided he wasn’t going to finish the awkward conversation. Relieved at his escape, he turned to finish his walk down the long hall. Just as he took the first step, the man’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Explain to me why the first night I ever spent with Mitchell – our first night as a couple – he pulled me to him in the middle of the night and said, “It’s okay, Toby. I’ve got you. Go on back to sleep.” If it had just happened once, I might be able to brush it off, but it’s happened a couple more times since then. Explain to me why if you’ve never been more than friends, Mitchell calls your name when he’s in my bed.”
Toby was almost brought to his knees by the unexpected and telling question. After a moment of stunned silence, he forced himself to respond. “I can’t explain it, Bradley, but I’m sorry it happened. I can’t do anything about it, but I did tell you the truth. Mitchell and I are…just friends.” When Bradley didn’t respond, Toby offered all he could. “I promise you I’ll stay away from Mitchell and not contact him myself. But, if he reaches out to me, I won’t brush him off. I won’t hurt him by pushing him away. I owe him too much for that. That’s the best I can offer.”
“You say you can’t explain why Mitchell calls out you name, but somehow, I think you understand it.” When Toby neither confirmed nor denied that it was the truth, Bradley gave him one last cold, pitying look before he cruelly added, “It’s too bad for you that Mitchell didn’t want what you were offering. I guess I was right and you’re not so special after all. Keep your promise to me, Toby Bailey.” Bradley Clark turned and walked away, headed back to Mitchell’s side – Mitchell, who was there because he helped save Toby’s life.
Toby added it to his pile of guilt and pressed the button to call the elevator which would carry him downstairs, away from the man who still called his name in the middle of the night. The man who’d caught him every time he’d fallen since Geri died.
He thought about how hard it would to lose another person he cared about, but maybe it was for the best. Mitchell had what he’d always wanted – too bad Bradley Clarke was such an ass. When the elevator doors opened, he decided he wasn’t being fair. Bradley was just trying to protect Mitchell and had decided that Toby was bad news. Maybe he was right.
As he walked to the car, he decided that it was time for him to learn how to catch himself.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
As the days went by, a handful of people dropped by to visit Melba; the most notable among them being Tom Anderson. During their conversation, she shared her misgivings about Chief Kelly and his lack of communication with Sheriff Branson the day Jones had been killed.
“That’s interesting, Reightman, and not in a good way. What are you going to do about it?”
“I’m not sure what I can do about it, Tom. It’ll be his word against mine. It would be easy for him to come up with some believable story featuring me as a hot headed detective running off into danger without proper preparation or warning.”
“That might be exactly what he tries if you accuse him of anything,” Tom agreed. “And, he would have a point. But are you just going to let it pass without comment?”
She shook her head, “No, Tom, I’m not. Before I’m done, he’ll know I realize exactly what he pulled. Thank God things worked out as they did and no one other than Jones ended up dead.”
“Have you heard how Mitchell is doing?”
“Yes, Toby was allowed to see him for a few minutes yesterday. Mitchell’s recovering, although he’s going to be out of commission for several weeks – maybe even a couple of months. He’s supposed to be going home in the next few days.”
“Is his family going to stay in town?”
“No. According to Toby, his new love interest is moving in to take care of him.”
“Sounds like he has found himself a pretty good woman.” When Tom noticed her cocked eyebrow, he amended, “Or a good man – or, whatever. You know what I mean.”
Reightman smiled inwardly at his momentary discomfort, knowing Tom didn’t have a prejudiced bone in his body, and his discomfort was caused by the assumption he’d made regarding Mitchell’s romantic situation. Tom hated it when his assumptions proved to be wrong. She thought about giving him some grief, but decided she had better use for his tim
e. She changed the subject. “I do have one small thing I thought I’d would ask you to help me with, Tom.”
“Am I going to like it?”
“Probably. I know how you love a challenge. In fact, I’m worried you might find this one a bit of a letdown.”
“When you say things like that, it clues me in that whatever you’re asking might not be easy. I know your tricks, Reightman.”
“I don’t think it’ll be as hard as it seems on the surface, because I have a hint or two I’m willing to give you – if you get stuck.”
“Now I’m really worried. Okay, I’ll bite. What’s your little project?”
“Not so fast, Anderson! I have props to make it more exciting.” Reightman reached into her purse and pulled out the evidence bag she’d retrieved from him as she rushed out of the building to drive to the cabin in the woods. She also pulled out a clear sandwich bag containing another item.
“I spy one thing I recognize and one thing which looks familiar.” Tom picked up the unfamiliar bag and examined the contents. “This looks like Guzman’s phone.”
“It’s not. Toby and I have a suspicion it is, in fact, the phone he himself lost the night of Guzman’s murder. It’s the same model, has the exact same case, and Toby says the scratch on the back is just like the one on his old phone. I know there are probably a million people with this exact combination and probably a few thousand of those have scratched cases, but given everything else, I don’t think it’s too far of a stretch to believe it is the same one. But that isn’t really what’s important about it.”
“Okay, now I’m curious. What is important about it?”
“I was hoping you’d ask, Tom.” Reightman picked up the black phone in the evidence bag – the phone which belonged to the recently departed Reverend Sawyer – and turned it on through the plastic. She then did the same with the phone in the silver case. “I’ve been practicing, so watch carefully. For my first trick –” she announced with a flourish as she turned the phone on, “I’ll demonstrate and prove Jones was indeed the person hired by Sawyer to do his evil deeds.” She typed a message on the black phone and then selected a contact and pressed send. The silver phone buzzed as the message was received.
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