Elijah
Elijah nursed the scotch in his glass.
He tipped the glass to the left, letting the liquid reach the lip of the glass before he slowly tipped the glass all the way to the right. He enjoyed watching the liquid swish to and fro.
“Hard day?” the bartender asked. She was a tall lithe woman with long, willowy dark hair that trailed down to the tops of her blue jeans.
“You could say that,” Elijah replied, finally bringing the glass to his lips and throwing the alcohol to the back of his throat. He raised his gaze to the bartender. “Fill it up again please,” he said, handing his empty glass back to her. He’d never wanted to end up like his father and so he’d always abstained. Until recently. Now alcohol seemed the only option left to him and a greater understanding of his father had burrowed deep inside of him.
Elijah reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it and thumbed through some of the bills inside. The bartender put the drink down in front of him and waved his money away.
“This one’s on me,” she smiled. It was a smile he knew and recognised well.
Elijah nodded his thanks and turned his attention back to the drink, oblivious to the woman in front of him. She huffed and walked away, but Elijah didn’t care. The image of Delores wouldn’t leave him. The tears in her eyes, the hard brutal beat of her heart as she had lain in his arms crying, begging him to make it stop.
And Elijah wanted to do that: he wanted nothing more than to make it stop. But how could he make something stop that wasn’t really there? The doctor hadn’t allowed him in the room with Delores. Not that it mattered, Delores was going to be out of it for a while from what he said. And when she woke, he wondered, would she be okay? Would they finally be able to get through to her, to make her understand?
His instincts told him no.
When Michael had arrived, all hell had broken loose, and cop or not, he knew when to leave.
On the bar in front of him, Elijah’s cell phone continued to ring. Paul had been trying to get hold of him for the past two hours, but so far Elijah had avoided the call. He knew what was coming, he was stupid. Michael had had security kick Elijah out as soon as he’d arrived. He had been furious, though Elijah had wondered what had annoyed him more: that Elijah had finally got to see Delores, or that Delores hadn’t been able to kill herself.
The cell phone snapped into silence, and Elijah glared at it, adding the last intentionally missed call to the number seven already listed. He took another sip of the scotch in the glass and he stared at his own image in the glass behind the rows of bottles behind the bar.
He looked tired, weary, and bone-fucking-exhausted.
How had it got to this stage? He wondered depressingly. She would be admitted now. He knew that. And despite what his instincts were telling him, he still had no evidence to prove his theory that Michael was behind everything. Only the delusional rants of Delores, and no one was going to believe her over Michael. Elijah shook his head and glared at his cell as it began to ring again.
“You should answer that,” Paul said from behind Elijah. “It might be your partner trying to tell you something really important.”
Elijah didn’t flinch or look up, instead he took another sip of the scotch in his hand. “I should have known you’d come,” he said.
“Yeah? Then you should have listened to me when I told younotto come,” he snapped in reply. “Do you have any idea of the mess you’ve created?”
“I failed her, Paul,” Elijah said, instead feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I failed her.” He put his head in his hands and closed his eyes.
The bartender came over, a bar towel thrown over one shoulder. “What can I get you?” she smiled at Paul, a different smile than she had given Elijah. This one was all business, no pleasure. It had always been that way in their friendship, but Elijah had never felt any bitterness from Paul.
They’d been friends and partners for a long time. Paul had regrettably married young, the marriage eventually souring into animosity and resentfulness, Elijah had remained single. Always the eligible bachelor. Their careers had gone much the same route; Elijah’s flourishing and Paul’s stagnating. But Paul had never become jealous or resentful of Elijah. He was a true friend.
“Nothing, we’re leaving,” Paul said and tugged on Elijah’s arm. “Come on, we’ve got work to do.”
“I’m off the case,” Elijah snapped, his tone a mixture of anger and frustration. “Remember?”
Paul breathed out a frustrated breath. “You’ve always been off the case, buddy. Hasn’t stopped you yet, not sure why it would now.” When that didn’t get Elijah moving, Paul kicked the chair from under his friend. Elijah fell sideways, landing painfully on his back. He yelled out as pain ricocheted down his spine.
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself!” It was Paul’s turn to snap now. Elijah glared up at Paul before slowly climbing up to his feet. He picked up his cell from the bar and started to walk away.
Elijah shook his head. “I can’t help her,” he shouted, releasing his anger to the world, “don’t you get it, Paul? I can’t help her. That’s the damn problem.” He sagged against the wall next to the bar and dragged a hand down his face feeling exhausted. He looked back over at Paul. “What are you even doing here?” he asked.
“Came to help my friend out,” Paul replied dryly. “Didn’t realise he’d already given up though.”
“Everything I do gets me nowhere, and now it’s too late,” Elijah continued ignoring Paul’s snipe at him.
“Who says? It’s never too late, you know that, Elijah. There’s always a clue, a loose thread, a slip-up or a mistake. There’s always something, somewhere, and if anyone is going to find it, it will be you,” Paul pleaded angrily. “Every case we’ve ever worked on, you always tell me that, remember? So help me find those clues.”
“This isn’t like any other case. This is her, this is her life,mylife!” Elijah cradled his head in his hands again. The steadythrum thrum thrumof blood rushed through his veins, pulsing heavily. “This is everything. She is everything.” He held his head in his hands and closed his eyes, a sad attempt to black out the world.
