“Can I give you a bit of advice?”
“Sure.”
“Either call Olivia or get the doctor to call them. Let them know. I’m sure they’re in agony right now—especially the girls. This news could help put their mind at ease.”
“You’re right. I was so concerned with all the other stuff that didn’t cross my mind. Once I make that call, there’s no turning back.”
He hesitated for a moment then called Olivia. Chella couldn’t help but smile as she heard the relief in Mitch’s voice.
A week later, Chella was over at Mitch’s place enjoying an afternoon swim. When they returned to the penthouse, his phone rang.
He had a brief conversation then put down the phone.
“That was Olivia. She and Simone want to meet with me. They invited me to dinner with them tonight to celebrate their birthday.”
“That’s great. I think you should go.”
“I guess I can’t avoid this forever. Will you come with me?”
“If you want me to, but are you sure you don’t want to be alone with them? This is an opportunity for you to get to know them.”
“You being there will keep things civil, especially with Simone.”
“I’ll come, but if at any point you feel that you’d like to be alone with them, say the word and I’ll conveniently disappear.”
After making a stop at a nearby flower shop, Mitch and Chella picked up two bouquets and headed to the restaurant in a cab.
Chella hadn’t formally met the twins. Both were tall with black hair that flowed over their shoulders. With a serious face, they looked identical, but Chella noticed a slight difference when they smiled.
“Thanks for the flowers. They’re beautiful,” Olivia said as they were seated.
“Before we go any further, Mitch, I have something to say to you,” Simone said with a slight smile. “I know the last time we met, I was very insensitive to your pain. I’m sorry.”
“That was kind of you to say.”
“I get defensive of my dad sometimes. I know he caused you and your mother pain, but he tried his whole life to make up for that, and he rarely gets any credit for it.”
“Simone, if we’re going to enjoy tonight, can we please not talk about your father. I may be willing to help save his life, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten what he did or I’m ready to forgive him. It’s obvious to me that you and I don’t see eye to eye on the topic of your father, so it might be best if we didn’t discuss him.”
“You know he’s your father, too,” she replied.
“Stop,” Olivia said. “Simone, drop it. There are things we can talk about other than dad. Aren’t you at all interested in getting to know your brother? We have twenty-two years of catching up to do.”
“I suppose.”
Chella’s phone rang. She excused herself from the table, stepped aside and answered it.
“Chella speaking.”
“You might want to check your email,” the woman’s voice said. The call ended. The number came up private, so Chella had no idea who it was from. Checking her private email, she opened the first with the subject line: I’m watching you.
To: Chella Noon
From: Your Second Worse Nightmare
Date: Sunday October 29, 2011
5:45PM
This is not over. Watch your back.
Nice red stilettos by the way…
Chella’s hand went damp. A throbbing pulse in her chest kicked in, and she looked down at her feet.
Red stilettos.
She glanced around to see if anyone was watching her. Everyone appeared to be minding their own business. She dipped into the restroom. The other unread email was a graphic, modified image of a woman, bloody, dead, a knife going straight through her back. Chella’s face had been photoshopped onto the body.
She forwarded the emails to Detective Carter and sent him a text message. She’d have to find a way to get out of this dinner date and return home safely. After cooling her face and neck with cold towels, she returned to the table, pulling Mitch aside for a second.
“Hey, are you okay?” Mitch asked, looking at her.
“I’m not feeling so great at the moment. I think I’m going to head home.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Stomach cramps.”
“I’ll take you home.”
“No, this is important. I want you to stay here. Get to know your sisters.”
“No, I’ll take you.”
“Mitch, you can’t put this off forever. You have to do this.”
“I’m coming over to check on you when I’m done.”
After apologizing to the twins and saying goodbye, Mitch escorted her to the waiting cab at the restaurant entrance.
As soon as she locked herself in her condo, she called Detective Carter. She had so many questions. Who could possible get access to that type of information? Her work email might be easy to access, but only a handful of people knew her personal email address. Detective Carter told her the IP address where the email was sent was a local coffee shop in downtown San Diego. He obtained copies of the surveillance cameras from the shop and would be stopping by the next day to see if she recognized anyone from the video.
Chella made herself a cup of tea to help calm her nerves. No matter how much self-defense training she had done, she hoped she would never have to use it. The image of her dead with a knife in her back was hard to get out of her head. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard someone tampering with the door. It immediately startled her, but seconds later, Mitch walked through the door.
“Hi. Are you feeling better?” he asked, kissing her lightly on the lips. “You look pale.”
“I’ll be okay. I made myself a cup of tea. Would you like one?”
“No, thanks. The doctor called during dinner with the twins. I start the injections tomorrow. They’re going to do the transplant on Saturday.”
“That’s great. The girls must be relieved.”
“They were. They said it was the best birthday present they could have asked for.”
“You said this treatment might have you feeling some flu-like symptoms?”
“Yes, I’m going to work from home for the week. Someone will come over to administer the injections.”
“Are you sure that’s all that you’ll feel?”
“Don’t worry, Sweetheart. I’ll be fine.”
“Maybe you should stay with me this week. That way I’ll be there if you need any help.”
“I don’t have any of my things. Maybe you could pack a bag and come back with me tonight.”
She was about to agree when she remembered Detective Carter would be coming by the next morning.
“No, I meet with Nathan for a class here tomorrow morning. I can come by after that.”
“You know you can call him and have him come over to my place instead.”
“It’s no bother. What time is your first injection?”
“Eleven o’clock.”
“I’ll be there by then.”
“Are you okay, Chell? Something’s not right with you.”
“I’m…” She considered telling him, but she changed her mind. “I’m just a little tired.”
She felt guilty about lying to him, but with all the crazy emotions, feelings and preparations he was going through for this transplant, she didn’t want him worrying about her at a time when he should be focusing on his health and his relationship with his family.
She was afraid that if he knew of the events that had started over a week ago, it would complicate an already-difficult situation. It was best to keep her mouth shut, and tell him after it was all over.
“Why don’t I come lie with you for a while? I’ll go home after you fall asleep.”
“If you like. Won’t you have problems getting a cab?”
“Don’t worry about that.”
Detective Carter arrived at eight the following morning. He and Chella went through the video from th
e coffee shop, scanning the patrons at the time the email was sent. Chella did not recognize anyone. Only four people used computers around that time—two men and two women. Something about one of the women seemed familiar, but Chella couldn’t put her finger on it. Of the four people, the detective was able to get clear facial shots of three. The remaining fuzzy profile belonged to the same woman Chella thought looked familiar. She wore a hat, so it was not possible to see her hair color, and the Audrey Hepburn sunglasses she wore covered most of her face.
“I’ll have the FBI run these images through their facial recognition software to see if we can pull anything. Mr. Stewart had two male visitors at the prison during that timeframe, and we have both under surveillance. So far, both are coming up clean.”
“A woman called me, and a woman was on the boat. I have a feeling the woman we can’t identify in the coffee shop is his accomplice.”
“You might be right. I’m going to run these. I’ll send you copies of the images. Spend some time looking at them. Something may trigger your memory.”
“I will. I’ll walk out with you. Thanks for coming by.”
“Can I give you a ride somewhere?”
“If you’re going past Mitch’s place, I’m heading there.”
“I’ll take you.”
As they drove, Chella asked, “Have you found out anything new in my parents case yet?”
“Discrepancies, signs of a cover-up. Considering Mr. Stewart’s brother was the lead detective in the case, more and more it’s looking like he’s responsible. I’m digging for a link between Mr. Stewart and Mr. Gonzales. There are so many conflicting reports. I’ve spoken to over half of the eyewitnesses on the scene. They all say the driver of the truck ran the red light and never once tried to apply his brakes. This is supported by the fact that there were no tire tracks on the road. The driver claims the brakes were faulty, but police investigators never tested the truck’s brakes after the accident. They just took Mr. Gonzales’s word for it.”
“Were there any street cameras?”
“Missing, along with the first video recording with the driver after the accident. We’re tracking employees from Mr. Stewart’s old job. So far, we have lists from two old jobs, but the place he worked at the time of the accident is closed. We have to go through alternative sources to see who their employees were at the time. Maybe he met him at work or though someone at work. I’m checking all possibilities.”
“Where is Mr. Gonzales?”
“No one knows. After the accident, he dropped off the radar. He pled guilty to involuntary manslaughter and was sentenced to two years. After eight months, he was released on good behavior.”
“Oh my God.”
“I have no proof—this is a theory—but I suspect this man was paid to do the crime and paid to disappear. All I can seem to find out about him is that he was an immigrant from El Salvador.”
“Does the U.S. have an extradition treaty with El Salvador?”
“Thankfully, yes. I’ve sent all the information we have to their police. They’re trying to find him for questioning. You’ll have to be patient though. It could take a while.”
“If I haven’t said it yet, Detective, thank you. I really do appreciate your hard work on this case.”
“Just doing my job, Ms. Noon,” he said, pulling up in front of Mitch’s building.
“Thanks for the ride. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“Same to you, Ms. Noon,” he replied, waving goodbye.
Chella found Mitch in his favorite outfit working on his laptop in bed. She curled up beside him.
“Feel better today?” Mitch asked, slipping one of her curly tendrils behind her ear.
“I do. How do you feel?”
“Honestly? Nervous. They’ve already called to say they’re on their way. That gives me forty-five minutes to change my mind.”
“You’re tough. You can do this.”
“Is that why I haven’t slept a wink since last night?”
“You didn’t sleep because this is a big deal. You’re about to save someone’s life. It’s normal. Not sleeping has nothing to do with your strength as an individual.”
“You always know what to say.”
She smiled. “Do you need a special diet?”
“Not really. Lots of calcium the day before the withdrawal and a big breakfast on the morning of the withdrawal.”
“Have you eaten yet?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I’m making you a smoothie. You have to put something on your stomach.”
“Whatever you say, Boss.”
The procedure went smoothly. By midafternoon, Mitch fell asleep, giving Chella a chance to get some work done. Detective Carter advised her to get a new personal email address but keep the old one active for the purpose of evidence collection. Her work address she had no choice but to keep. For now, she hoped and prayed no more emails would come.
She studied the images of the people in the coffee shop, always returning to the woman in the sunglasses. Who was she? Why would she be wearing such a large hat and sunglasses while indoors on a computer? Chella was certain she was the accomplice. What about her was so familiar?
With each day, Mitch ached a little more. By Friday, he told Chella he had a bad headache, so she was extremely surprised at six o’clock that evening when he wanted to go to the hospital to see his father. She wasn’t sure why, but she wanted to support him if that’s what he felt he needed to do.
At the entrance to his father’s room, Mitch grabbed her hand. His grip telegraphed to her to stay with him. They entered the room. Olivia, Simone and their mother Theresa were seated next to the bed, reading to Jude from the Bible.
His father lay in bed, eyes closed.
Mitch had previously told them he didn’t want to see his father. An awkward silence filled the room. Everyone stared at Mitch. The pulse in Mitch’s hand fell into the same rhythm as the beeping machines hooked to his father.
His father opened his eyes.
Mitch said something, but his voice wouldn’t come. He cleared his throat and tried again.
“I’m still angry with you…and I hate what you did to my mother…and even though I don’t think we’ll be able to have a normal father-son relationship…I forgive you.”
A collective gasp filled the room. His father cried.
The twins were in tears, as well. Olivia wrapped her arms around her older brother. Chella was overwhelmed as she witnessed the powerful moment.
She looked into Mitch’s eyes. He looked relieved, like he had finally let go, but it also seemed like goodbye. A last ditch effort to say everything he had to say, to leave nothing unsaid. He pulled away from Olivia, clenched Chella’s hand and mouthed, “I’m ready to go.”
His father spoke. “Mitch, I just want to say thank you. Thank you for this gift. Your forgiveness means the world to me. It was an honor to know you and your mother. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you both. Please tell her again, how sorry I am, and I wish her only the best. She deserves it. You do, too.”
Mitch didn’t respond with words, but took both his father’s hands in his and squeezed them gently.
Teresa said, “You are a very special man. You have brought healing to our family in a way you could never imagine, and for that, I will forever be grateful.” She kissed him on both cheeks.
He embraced her then said goodbye.
Seconds after he left the room, Simone burst through the door, wrapped her arms around Mitch, and wept for what seems like an eternity. Eventually, she pulled away, took his hands in hers, kissed them and simply said, “Thank you.”
He kissed her on her forehead and left.
In the privacy of the empty elevator, Mitch wrapped his arms around Chella tightly, buried his face in her neck and wept silently. He finally let it go. He had forgiven his father, but also said a final goodbye.
He felt free.
Mitch and Chella arrived at the hospital bright and early the followin
g morning after he enjoyed the enormous breakfast she served him in bed. She sensed he was still nervous. Holding him in a warm embrace, she said, “You’re doing the right thing. I’m so proud of you. If you need me at any time, I’ll be in the waiting room. I’m not leaving this hospital without you.”
“I love you. Thank for being here.”
“I love you, too,” she replied.
At eight o’clock, he kissed her goodbye. She ventured to the waiting room where she would be for an agonizing four to eight hours.
She had brought books, crossword puzzles and her laptop, which she hoped would help her breeze through the day. An hour later, the nurse came by to tell her the process had begun. They would be monitoring him throughout the day and would be giving her regular updates.
Chella finished a report for work, paced the floors, and chewed away her nails. Mitch wasn’t the only one who was nervous that day.
At noon, the nurse suggested Chella take a break and get something to eat, but she wasn’t hungry so she continued to sit and wait. She watched the nearby television as the news of the day came and went. In a few hours, it was over. Mitch was safely home. Over the weekend, his side effects were bad, from headaches to dizziness, but by Monday morning, he felt like himself again.
Mitch and Chella were having breakfast at the kitchen island when Mitch’s cell phone rang.
“It’s Olivia,” he said, looking at the screen. He put the call on speakerphone.
“Hi, Olivia.”
“Mitch… Dad just died.”
Chapter Eleven
What?” said Mitch.
Olivia broke down weeping at the other end of the line. Mitch gazed at the phone in utter shock, unable to say a word for a few seconds. “What happened?”
She continued to sob, and then there was a short silence on the phone.
“Hello. This is Dr. Lucas speaking.”
“It’s Mitch. What happened?
“His body rejected the bone marrow. It didn’t recognize it as its own and started attacking the new stem cells. This sometimes happens, but his body didn’t respond to the medication that was supposed to correct it. I tried everything. Three additional specialists attended him, but nothing worked. I’m so sorry I couldn’t have done more.”
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