Donovan asked Helen, “Do you want my number on this phone?”
Her facial expression asked him in unamused black woman why would she need such a thing?
He smiled at the understanding of the non-spoken question.“If you have a question or if I have a question, I am not authorized to climb the stairs to the sleeping quarters.You know, me knocking at your bedroom door would be unacceptable by both our standards.So, calling me, or me calling you, would be easier from our assigned work locations.”
“I guess that's logical,” she told him, using the newly activated phone to provide her number.Helen called his burner; he nodded when he got the number.“Mr.Turnbull, a wise man once told me the demon you feed is the one that stays with you.”
“I don't know what that means,” Donovan said.
“The peace you seek comes from a purpose; that’s what he told me.Vengeance is not a purpose.Her vengeance is what got you where you are.Retribution will only ease the pain, but the suffering comes from an inability to process the damage, acknowledge it has occurred, and find a means to move forward,” Helen told him.“Yes, it feels good to give that bitch a bit of her own medicine but think about which demon you're feeding, Mr.Turnbull.”
“I'm feeding the one that is hungry,” he said, watching the woman.He wasn't sure what her role or thing was, but the way she looked at it made him all sorts of uncomfortable.
“There are many kinds of hunger, Mr.Turnbull.Loneliness is the biggest appetite that is often overlooked, patronized and compromised to handle the feelings of aloneness.Just as you shouldn't feed the wrong demon, you can't fill your belly with sweets to satisfy the sweet tooth; yes, the craving abates, but feeding the desire won't prevent tooth decay.”
Donovan squinted his eyes as he watched her.“Are you attempting to read me, Cranberry?Is that your handle?”
“You are easy to read, Mr.Turnbull.I am simply hoping at the end of this, you prove me wrong,” she said.“I'm heading up.”
Donovan Turnbull watched the black woman carry one box up the stairs.The gentleman in him wanted to grab the other monitor to help, but he hesitated, then thought better of it.He carried it to the top of the stairs and waited for Helen to return.The monitor was passed to her along with the laptop she’d left behind.He gave a nod of his head and made his way to the freezing cold basement.He located the office space, which really was a cool man cave with a bed.It took less than a minute to fire up the fireplace, and the room began to warm.
Yesterday, the black woman had soaked his feet in warm water to ease the pain of the frostbite.After going out twice today, the toes ached a bit, but as soon as the room warmed, he would take off his boots.He made another trip to the upstairs living space to retrieve his suitcase.To his surprise, the basement had warmed considerably once he returned, and he discovered a mini fridge loaded with man drinks and a downstairs bathroom.
“Shoot, at this rate, I may not want to leave,” he said, eyeballing the shower.He needed a hot one and went to the bathroom.In the bathroom, he discovered the sauna.“Her father was a boss!”
Twenty minutes later, feeling like a new man with a new focus, he opened the monitor and set it up on the desk in the toasty living man space.He placed the laptop on the desk and connected it to the monitor.He didn't need a light ring but used the light on the new phone she'd given him.
Oddly, he went to his Instagram and logged in.Donovan went live, the fire roaring in the background, his hair damp, and leaning back in the Eames chair.“Life feels different when the woman you searched for sees you, feels you, and understands you.I feel like new money.”
He winked and logged off.
Chapter 8- Breaking Off
Helen sat at the computerin the bedroom, feeding the locusts.Her journey into the dark web took an interesting turn when she began to enter locations in the computer, starting with her home address in Indiana.It only provided the basic information.She remained logged into the browser but also opened the search application that came with the Technician laptop.There, she entered her address again, and this time it returned with a great deal more information.
“The property is owned by Greenson Enterprises,” Helen said, not knowing what that was.She entered a new search for Greenson Enterprises to discover assets nearing one billion in app development and properties on the West Coast.One of the properties recently sold was Mustang’s former home with the vineyard.
