by Justin Bell
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The phone rang, a trio of shrill chirps echoing in the small, mostly empty house. Julietta Gutierrez turned from the closet in the small master bedroom, a knee-length white doctor's coat swirling around her legs. Striding across the thick carpeted floor, her tightly pulled blonde ponytail bobbed behind her head as her eyes darted around, looking for the cordless handset. Louisa had a habit of dropping it wherever she happened to be using it, and over the past few days it had seemed like she was on the phone more often than she was off. Big things appeared to be happening in this small town. The flashing red light revealed the handset on the living room windowsill, so she crossed the threshold and swept the phone into her hand, thumbing the answer button.
"Hello?" she answered, turning slightly in the small, square room. It was about as vanilla as living rooms went, eggshell white walls, a thick, but not too thick beige carpet with a scattering of inexpensive, mismatched furniture. The entirety of the house looked temporary, as if the inhabitants were just floating through, the trademark of a college student subletting the moving on. Even if Juilietta was in her mid-20s, she was still very much the epitome of transient student.
"Julietta? Is this Julietta Gutierrez?"
"It is," she replied, squinting at the voice she did not recognize.
"This is Bridget Martin, I was Louisa's roommate at college."
Julietta tried to think back, remember if the name was familiar to her or not. She'd met Louisa in her second year at George Washington University, just one year shy of her Juris Doctorate in Criminal Law. She'd been living alone in a student apartment at that point and didn't talk a whole lot about her time in the dorms her first two years. But she did remember her talking a little about one of her good friends at GW who she'd roomed with her Freshman year. This was all long before Louisa's twenty-one week stint at Quantico, which she'd excelled at before ultimately following Julietta up north. A tight pinprick twinge of guilt stabbed at her, remembering at how badly Louisa had wanted to be a Federal agent, and how hard the decision had been to move up here with her. Being offered the Chief of Police job had softened the blow a bit, but Julietta didn't suspect it softened it very much.
"Hi, Bridget, how are you?" Julietta's good manners prevented her from relaying her lack of remembrance.
"I'm good, thanks. Congrats to the two of you on the marriage. Sorry I couldn't make it, that was a tough couple of weeks."
"Don't worry about it," Julietta replied, again, not acknowledging her lack of memory for even seeing the name Bridget Martin on the invite list. "What can I do for you?"
There was a brief moment of silence on the other end as Bridget seemed to be considering her next statement. "Well, Louisa reached out to me yesterday. She wanted me to look into something for her."
Ah. Work stuff. Julietta was just about to pass along her regrets, but she heard the telltale click of a key in the front door lock, then the door swung open and Louisa roamed in.
"You've got impeccable timing," Julietta replied, "Louisa just walked through the door."
"Great," Bridget replied. "Good to talk to you."
"Same," came the answer, and she turned towards Louisa, arm extended, the handset perched at the end. "Bridget for you," she said, and couldn't help but notice the slight spark of excitement in Louisa's face.
"Bridge?" she asked as she retrieved the handset and put it to her ear. "What you got for me?" Louisa took the phone and slid from the living room, disappearing into the master bedroom and softly closing the door behind her. Julietta stared for a moment at the blank white barrier between the two of them and that pinprick of guilt became a little something more. Was it jealousy? Resentment? If so, why? Both of them had agreed that they each had very important lives aside from the marriage, and that they would likely need their own space in the next few years, Julietta for her medical school and Louisa for her law enforcement career. So why did she feel so bitter now?
"Thanks for calling back so quick, Bridget," Louisa said, once safely confined in the small bedroom. Like the living room, it was sparsely furnished with cobbled together accoutrements, colored in off white paint and the same beige carpet.
"Well, it didn't take long to dig up some info on this guy," she replied.
"Really? He got a record?"
"Oh no, just the opposite. He's one of ours. Well, sort of, anyway."
"How do you mean?"
Back in Washington, Bridget clutched her pencil between two fingers and jogged it back and forth, tapping the eraser against her cubicle desk. "Our boy Bill Strickland is military. Well, ex-military. Ranger school at Fort Benning, Special Forces for several years, then got an honorable discharge and some form of retirement."
"When was this?" Louisa asked, pulling a strand of dark hair free and twirling it in her fingers as she did when concentrating.
"Two years ago. Weird thing is, we kept tabs on him even after his retirement. He has some activity with the government all the way up to a couple of months ago, but all the details are redacted."
"Activities redacted after his retirement?"
"Yeah. Weird, huh?" asked Bridget, tapping some more keys on her keyboard.
"He a consultant of some kind?" Louisa asked, pacing slowly in the bedroom.
"If he is, his personnel record isn't filed right." Bridget clicked the mouse and began scrolling down, noting all of the different redacted activity. "Hmmm, weird. Last entry is--shit! What happened?"
"Bridge? What's going on?" Louisa asked, halting her pacing.
There was another brief silence, though she could hear some muffled speaking. "I don't know, Louisa. His personnel record just froze. Totally booted me out of the database."
Louisa wasn't liking the sounds of that. Her conversation with Richard Grace from this morning was playing back through her head and she worried that someone might be watching. Grace had been a spook, that much was certain, and while he said he was with Homeland Security, that felt like a front. But a front for what?
"Do you want me to get back in there?" Bridget asked, and Louisa could hear the keys tapping in the background.
"No, don't," she replied, almost too quickly. "I'm sorry, Bridget. This doesn't smell right. Just forget I asked, okay?"
"Louisa? You all right?"
"Yes, hon. I'm fine. Thanks. Just...please, just forget this. I never should have asked you to begin with."
"What's going on up there? I thought you were in some Podunk town? This is smelling like inside the beltway stuff."
"Tell me about it."
Bridget sighed, then navigated her pointer to the toolbar of her web browser, carefully erasing her recent history and clearing the browser cache. She knew that wouldn't hide her tracks especially well, but she wanted to take whatever precautions she could. Bridget continued, "well, let me know if I can help, okay?"
"Of course. Thanks, Bridge. Talk to you soon?"
"Definitely. Call me when you don't need something sometime." There was a light flourish of humor in her voice, but Louisa also thought she heard more than a hint of resentment, too.
"I will. Promise."
"Seeya."
The two ex-college roommates hung up the phone thousands of miles away, both feeling a little uneasy about this sudden link joining the two of them.
Louisa pulled the door open and went back out to the living room. The kitchen was a small, square room just off of the living room and she could see Julietta in there, clanking around with dishes in the sink.
"What was that all about?" the other woman asked from the kitchen.
"Just work stuff," Louisa replied, dropping the phone on the ratty, brown couch and walking into the kitchen. "How was your day, Jules?" she leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
"It was okay," Jules replied, but didn't acknowledge the kiss. "How was yours?"
Louisa broke off and turned towards the cabinet behind them. "Same old stuff."
"Same old stuff that requires calling your old college roommate who you haven't talked to in five years?"
Louisa stopped what she was doing, then looked back at the other woman. "Something wrong, hon?"
Jules didn't turn, just continued rummaging in the sink. "Not a thing."
"Bullshit," Louisa replied, turning to face her fully, putting a hand on each hip. "What's got you all worked up?"
Jules turned, a glass bowl clutched in her hand. "There's something you're not telling me. You're constantly on the phone these days, and never seem to want to have those conversations with me in the room."
"Like I said, it's just work stuff. I'm dealing with a sensitive case right now, Julie."
"Sensitive case? In this town?"
"In case you forgot," Louisa started, trying hard not to raise her voice, "two people are dead here. I know you hoped we were moving to a quiet little village in the woods, but I've got to be able to deal with this stuff."
"Deal with what? It was an animal, right? What's there to deal with? Is there some sinister serial killing bear in the woods?" Julietta did raise her voice, easing herself into attack mode.
Louisa looked at her sternly. "We had an agreement, Jules. I didn't have to follow you up here. We both agreed that even though we were getting married, we would be focusing on our careers, at least for the first few years."
Jules drew in her claws, just a bit. She drew a calming breath, then turned and eased the glass bowl back into the sink. "I'm sorry," she said softly.
Louisa walked forward and placed calming hands on her shoulders. "I know this isn't working out like either of us hoped. Please be patient, honey, okay?"
Julietta dropped her chin slightly and closed her eyes. "I will. I promise. I just don't like what's going on here. Something about this whole situation makes me nervous."
Louisa pulled back a little. "I know. Me, too. We'll get through it, okay?"
Jules turned towards her and offered up her hands. They embraced. "Okay. I love you."
"Love you, too."
Outside their small house at the end of the cul-de-sac, the sun had set and the night was drawing deep into indigo.