by Dermot Davis
"Fiona was sleeping in her car?" Andrew asked, looking astounded and horrified.
"She had been going back and forth to the desert, to see some guru she said she was studying with. She wouldn't listen to me," Simon said with obvious disapproval.
"Yeah, I know about him. He's harmless, don't worry," Andrew said quickly as his mind scrambled to extract every ounce of information that he could from the information that Simon was revealing to him. "Fiona is there now? In my mother's house? Still?"
"Last I heard," Simon said in a non-committal tone.
"All that girlie stuff," Andrew spoke his thoughts out loud. "They weren't my mom's things! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" he chided himself and smacked his forehead. He was shocked to realize that all of the changes in his childhood home were related to the fact that his One and Only, his One True Love, was back at the house… sleeping in his old bed.
"Looks like you missed some major clues, big boy," Simon said, looking like he was enjoying Andrew's self-recrimination.
"I've gotta go, Simon," Andrew said. His mind raced. He would drive straight to the house and make Fiona listen to him. He could explain everything, about the silver hawk charm, and Lily, how she meant nothing to them, and how he couldn’t be happy without her in his life… that he and Fiona had to be together… he would skip the part about putting Simon away. Maybe things would work out, after all. Simon seemed to be turning over a new leaf, anyway.
"Stay!" Simon commanded. "A few more minutes won't make any difference. I need something from you." Simon stared intently at the young man before him.
"What?" Andrew asked impatiently. "You said this was an apology, not a trade."
"I just thought of it now," Simon said and it sounded like he might be being truthful. "No, it's obviously not a trade. If it were a trade, I would have held out on you till I got some kind of commitment," he said as if he were surprised Andrew didn't know trading intel worked. Andrew thought through what Simon had said. It did make sense. Why give something up for nothing? He shrugged and looked at Simon.
"Okay, what is it? What do you want?"
"Obviously I want out of here," Simon said and looked perturbed that he was being rushed.
"You want me to help you escape?" Andrew asked a bit too loudly for Simon's liking.
"No, you idiot," Simon castigated him, looking around to see if anyone had been listening. "Get a grip on yourself and give me a minute, will you?"
"Sure, okay," Andrew said. The young man was wired, it was difficult for him not to run out of the prison, jump in his car, and drive to his old house as fast as he could. He had a hard time revving down his brain and body.
"My assets have been frozen, right? My bank account, my stocks, savings—"
"Yeah, yeah," Andrew said, hurrying him along.
"As you most definitely know, free legal counsel is the pits."
"Yeah, definitely."
"I need you to release some funds to me so that I can hire a top-class legal team."
"I don't have that kind—"
"I'm not talking about your personal money, Andrew," Simon said like Andrew was still being an idiot. "I have off-shore accounts… that no one knows about. I'll send you the numbers and passwords. Should be a piece of cake."
Andrew sat and thought about it for a few seconds.
"Well?" Simon asked impatiently. "You'll do it?"
"On one condition," Andrew said with a smile.
"What?"
"There's someone in here I want you to help out," Andrew said, thinking fondly of his old cellmate.
"Who?" Simon asked like Andrew must be joking. "Someone in here?" he asked for clarification. It seemed impossible that the young man had bonded with anyone incarcerated in that hellhole of a place.
"My old cellmate, Henry. He could use a good legal team. I want you to put him on the ticket."
"On the ticket?" Simon repeated, like it was an inappropriate use of the term. "What do you think I'm doing here, running in the upcoming election primaries?"
Andrew sat firmer in his seat, narrowed his eyes, and glared at Simon, as if to indicate that this was a deal-breaker.
"Okay, okay," Simon acquiesced, "What's he in for? Better not be something major."
"He'll go over it with you himself but they gave like eight years for contempt of court."
"What?"
"You'll see. He's got a big mouth and he represented himself in court and sassed the judge or something. I'm sure any smart legal team could get him off or have his sentence seriously reduced."
"He knows about this? What are you getting out of it?" Simon asked skeptically.
"No, just like you, I just thought of it right now,” Andrew said, “And what am I getting out of it? The satisfaction of helping out a fellow brother."
"I'll see what I can do," Simon said, leaving himself some room to refuse in the future, subject to greater details. "He sounds like a big mouth."
"Oh, you can be sure of that," Andrew said as he stood up to leave. "Good talk, Simon," he said, a good deal happier and more confident than when he had earlier sat down. "We'll be in touch," he said over his shoulder as he left.
Chapter 7
Fiona shopped at a local convenience store, close to her new accommodation in Andrew’s old neighborhood. Finding it hard to locate any of the organic, natural, and healthful whole foods and snacks that she was accustomed to eating, she picked out a few grocery items that looked like they might be the most nutritious. A quick look down the list of ingredients of each of the food items that she had picked up, however, and she soon replaced every container save two: a carton of milk that Angela had requested and a bag of popping corn that wasn’t organic yet had no chemicals or other ingredients added.
Once out of the store, she turned the corner to return to the house which was just a short two blocks away. She didn't notice that the same men who had tailed her before were watching from their car with a great deal of interest. "Target is leaving store, over," the scruffy-looking driver said into his radio.
"Target is still on foot, over?" a male voice asked.
"Affirmative, target is on foot, over," the driver said as he looked to his partner with an exasperated expression. "I told him that she was on foot when she entered the store, right?" he asked his partner, who nodded, yes. "Does he think she bought herself a pair of wings in the grocery section?" he asked sardonically. His partner nodded and shrugged.
"Stand by, over," the radio voice said.
"Target is two blocks from house, over," the driver radioed back. "If we're going to take her, we need to take her now!" he said to his partner. "What's the friggin' hold up?"
"Idiots," the other rough-looking man said.
"Too many chiefs… that’s the problem," the driver said as he kept his eyes on the blonde-haired Fiona as she strolled with her shopping and got closer and closer to the house. "They have to get too many clearances before they can make the smallest move."
"Take her now, copy?" the radio voice said urgently.
"Copy that," the driver answered, turning the steering wheel and edging the vehicle forward to get closer to Fiona as she crossed the street.
Even though there was no traffic, Fiona waited until she saw the WALK NOW sign light up. Thinking about the kind of movie that she wanted to watch that evening entirely occupied her mind: something light, maybe a comedy, she considered. Lost in thoughts of whether she wanted a smaller, Indie film or whether a star-driven blockbuster would be more satisfying, she didn't notice a car pull quickly around the corner.
The vehicle braked hard and she heard tires squeal. She turned just in time to see a car stop right in front of her. The rear door slung wide open and a large man jumped out of the vehicle. He had his big hand cover her mouth before she could scream and he picked her up like a rag doll with his other arm. Her shopping bag fell to the ground and Fiona struggled wildly, to no avail.
The man forced Fiona into the rear of the car. She had only just hit the back s
eat when the stranger beside her slammed the door shut and the car took off at high speed. The crude but effective abduction was over in an instant before Fiona could begin to understand what had just happened to her. Scared out of her wits, her mouth no longer covered, she opened it wide to scream. The moment the first sound came forth from her mouth, the man that abducted her punched her squarely in the jaw. She lost consciousness immediately and would not feel the intense pain of impact until later.
"They said no rough stuff," the driver admonished as he looked into the rear-view mirror at his colleague. "She's not to be hurt."
"She was going to scream her head off," the man in the back seat replied. "So she'll have a bruise, big deal."
"Don't be a dick," the driver said with weariness, knowing that the other man enjoyed hitting women and men alike and would take any opportunity to do so. "They don't want to see bruises; I told you that already. Just play along, for once, will ya?"
"Oh, I’ll play along, all right," the other man said, looking Fiona up and down. "Probably never had to work a day in her life, spoiled little rich kid," he said with loathsome derision.
"Just do the job that we're paid to do, that's all I ask," the driver said pleadingly as they drove south toward San Diego and the Mexican border.
Andrew rushed from the prison, quickly got into his sleek Mercedes, and drove directly to his mother's house. Excited, and terribly nervous at the same time, he wondered what kind of reception he would receive from Fiona. He thought briefly about calling her first but it didn’t seem like a good idea at all. In the time that they had been apart, ever since his beloved had left him, she had never once taken his calls or answered his numerous voice messages or emails.
Realizing that Fiona must have assumed that some kind of relationship had developed between himself and Lily, or that he’d had a one-night stand with the young woman, he tried to formulate a simple and clear explanation in his head that didn't sound defensive or weak. She had made an incorrect assumption and she needed to be informed of that fact. Perhaps he would take Lily up on her offer to talk to Fiona and set the record straight. But then again, even the mention of her name seemed to rub Fiona the wrong way. Having Lily appear in front of Fiona might actually do more damage than good.
Here’s a shot at nothing, Andrew said to himself, as he parked on the street and forced himself to take some major deep breaths. His hands shook so in an attempt to calm himself down, he grabbed hold of the steering wheel and tensed his fists as much as he possibly could. The effort didn't work to his satisfaction, however, as not only did his hands shake even worse than before but now his stomach felt so upset and volatile, he thought he might throw up.
Urging himself to get a grip on his emotions, he looked up towards his mom’s house to check for any activity. The newly-painted front door was closed and he could see no movement from behind the window curtains. Checking to see if he still had a house key, he remembered that he was thrilled to have taken it off of his key chain when he moved into the mansion in the Palisades. He groaned as he remembered putting the old house key into an antique dish on top of the Palisades mansion master bedroom bureau.
Well, no matter. If there was no answer to his knocking, he would sit in his car until his mom or Fiona returned and opened the front door. He knew that he would need to make some excuse for his absence from work but he considered it a small price to pay if his time and effort were rewarded with a meeting with his heart love.
Slowly, and as casually as he could, Andrew removed himself from the car and used the remote clicker to set the car alarm. The alarm beeped behind him as he walked with purpose towards the house. It only took one brief knock before the door opened to reveal his mom. She looked as if she had been doing some house cleaning. "Andrew. What a surprise!" she said as she opened the door wider. "Did you need to get something?" she asked.
"Hi, mom," Andrew said, almost sounding like a robot in tone, unemotional and a bit mechanical, as he scanned the house for the presence of Fiona. He was looking for, at the very least, the tiniest bit of hard evidence of Fiona's tenancy. "Yeah, I, uh, need to get something in my room, okay?" he said, spying what looked like a toy unicorn in the corner of the room.
"Is everything okay?" his mom asked, sensing that her son wasn’t feeling like himself. "Are you looking for something in particular? I've moved all your stuff; if you tell me what it is that you’re looking for, I might know where I put it," she said, blocking the stairwell with her body and scanning his face to try and read his emotion.
"No, that's alright," Andrew said as he worked his way around his mom. "I need to see something real quick," he said as he raced up the stairs. Once inside of his old room, he looked at all of the new feminine additions to the room with a clearer vision than before. He could smell the fragrance of the same type of lavender incense which Fiona had always been so fond of burning; yes, he saw, there was an incense holder on the side table which looked decidedly familiar.
"Did you find what you're looking for?" his mom asked when she finally entered the room. "As I say, I moved everything," she said, checking to see if there was something that obviously belonged to Fiona that she should surreptitiously hide.
"No, I searched and searched but haven't yet found her," Andrew said as he opened up his old closet to reveal Fiona's wardrobe. "I know that she's been living here," he said and turned to his mom. "These dresses wouldn't fit you in a million years, would they, mom? No offense."
"She asked me to promise," his mom said, relaxing her body, now knowing that the game was up. "It was the only condition that she made about moving in here. I couldn't let her sleep in her car, Andrew, I mean, what would you have done?" his mom answered and her voice quavered. Eyes wide, he saw that his mother was close to tears.
"It's okay, mom," Andrew said softly as he walked closer to gently embrace his mother. "You're not in trouble with me; you did the right thing."
"She was in such a state, you really have no idea, Andrew," she said tearfully. "I wanted to tell you; I mean, you two are so obviously meant for each other, it broke my heart when you two separated."
"I know mom, I know," Andrew said softly as he hugged her tighter.
"You should leave," she said urgently and she broke away from him. "I don't want her to know that I told you."
"But you didn't tell me, mom. I came here knowing the she was hiding out here already. Simon told me."
"He did?" Angela said, looking confused.
"He wants us to get back together, too. He said that he'll do whatever he can to make that happen."
"He did?" Angela stared in surprise at her son.
"When is Fiona coming back?" he asked, wondering if they should make a plan.
"She went to the store to get some popcorn," Angela said, wiping her eyes. "We were going to watch a movie tonight. I expect her back any minute now."
"Wow," Andrew said. A wave of panic swept through his body at the thought of Fiona returning and unexpectedly finding him there. "Does she hate me?" he blurted out, sounding like a six-year-old child.
"I don't think so," Angela said, although she sounded unsure. "She never wants to talk about it, about things, so I let her be."
"Yeah," Andrew acknowledged, nodding his head. "That's probably best. Give her lots of space. You did good, mom. Is she going to freak out? With me here?" he asked, his body practically shaking.
"No, son, I don't think so. She really loves you. I think she'll be pleased."
"Really?" Andrew asked, his body overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. He didn’t want to let himself feel false optimism, yet he couldn’t help feeling the tiniest bit of hope at his mother’s words. "She said that? That she loves me?"
"Not in so many words,” his mother said and he frowned. “I mean, of course she does. Any fool could see that. We shouldn't be in her room, though, if she walks in the door. She might feel like we’re invading her privacy. What do you think?" Angela asked, now sounding equally nervous.
; "You're right. We should go downstairs and act natural. Maybe we can have some coffee in the kitchen, make it look like I just came for a visit," Andrew said as he made his way past his mom.
"That's a great idea," Angela agreed with obvious relief. She smiled. "You just came by to visit your mom." They went downstairs.
Hurriedly making a pot of coffee in the kitchen, Angela set up two mugs on the table. "How do you want your coffee?" she then said, looking into the kitchen. "We're out of milk until Fiona comes back from the store."
"Black, I guess," Andrew said, trying to sit casually on a kitchen chair. "I don't care, mom," he then said nervously. "Whatever."
As the minutes passed, Andrew and his mom remained quiet as if they were too anxious to hold a normal conversation. Continually looking out the kitchen window, Andrew expected to see Fiona walk past at any minute. "How many stores did she go to?" he then asked.
"Just the one. Hernandez on the corner," Angela answered, turning around to look out the window. "She's been there many times. It's not like she could get lost."
"Should I go look for her?" he asked uncertainly. "I should go and make sure that she's okay," he then considered, standing up.
"Don't tell her that I sent you," Angela warned. "Make it seem casual, like you were going there, anyway. You wanted coffee and I was out of milk," she added, wanting to get their stories straight.
"Okay, mom," Andrew said, his eyes fixed out the window and barely listening. "I will," he said as he kissed her on the forehead as he was leaving.
Once outside, Andrew looked up and down the street for movement. A few cars passed, a couple of bicyclists cycled past on the sidewalk, and a number of pedestrians were out walking, but nowhere could Fiona be seen. Taking the normal route to the store, Andrew casually scanned all around him. If she was anywhere on the street, on either side, or within a couple of blocks, he would have seen her.