P.S.I’m sorry.
Your forever friend,
Andrea
I crumble the note into a tight ball, before tossing it into the trash beneath the sink. I simply don’t have the mental capacity. I check my phone again, confirming my uncle still has not responded to my text from earlier. Today, truly is built on hopes and dreams.
Right at noon, I’m sitting in our usual booth in the back corner of the diner. My feet are wet because I was unable to find my rain boots. The yellow raincoat I wore, hangs with other dripping coats and umbrellas beside the entrance. The downpour is likelykeeping people from venturing out because the diner is nearly empty.
I opted for all black attire today. Unsure if I am dressed to be taken seriously or if I am just prematurely mourning. He doesn’t deserve the extra effort, but how I dress directly affects my mood.
Twenty after, just as I am about to go home and give up, he walks into Benny’s. Like so many times before, he strides in without reservation. Casually he removes his coat, places it on the back booth, then lowers himself to sit across from me.
My uncle has a spot of toilet tissue on his face, likely from nicking himself shaving. Pointing to the spot on my own face, I hope it serves as some informal ice breaker. He takes the cue, batting away the white dab of paper. I can’t help but watch it as it flutters gently to the floor. Deep breath, Cindel. I remind myself;you’re supposed to seem scared.
“Uncle, I’m so glad you came.” I try to make myself seem panic stricken. Looking out the windows. Scanning the room every few moments. “I didn’t know who else to tell.” I fidget with the cuffs of my long-sleeve shirt. “The guy I told you about…” This next part I conjured up, while in the shower this morning. When I considered that mydeceptive unclecould have been monitoring me. I decide to work every possible angle. It may be the only way to get him to accompany me to the warehouse district. My hair cascades over my right ear, to cover the purple starred earbud. I somehow felt more confident when myfriendly stalkerwas with me. Yet, I realize this was my web to spin alone.
Knowing what my uncle is capable of, I feel protective over the ones I care about. Including Dax. Which is why I need Nicholas to believe that he’s not a part of this. “Well... my musical stalker has disappeared. I—” Leaning slightly forward onto the table, I lower my voice. “I think someone in the Murrayfamily is to blame. One of my coworkers is trying to kill me.” My teeth clench and grind together.
Normally, the diner was busier around lunch. With minimal distractions, it is difficult to sell my fear, without calling attention to our booth. My uncle’s mouth pulls up in the corners and his eyes glisten, he looks pleased for a fraction of a second, before schooling his features.
I continue, “I found some kind of disk thingy. I… I got scared. Between Jada and the Eamon, I decided to hide it elsewhere. I found an abandoned building and stashed it there last night. Will you come get it, with me?” Take the bait. Take the bait. My eyes feel dry. Not daring to blink, in case I miss any subtle tells. Beneath the table my hands busy themselves by pushing the cuticles, even farther than necessary. I worry the beds will bleed if he doesn’t answer soon.
The man who I once considered my closest family, remains hardened. His eyes narrow to slits. A surge of panic runs through me. Shit. Knowledge doesn’t mean you're credible. He doesn’t believe me... I’ve always been a shit liar. Was I not convincing enough? Is it possible he knows about Jada? I know he’s the one who sent her. She told me so herself.
“Be right with you,” the waitress says as she passes by to another table.
In sync with the interruption, the man before me softens. His features smooth out, while his next words are honeyed. “Sweet girl. Why ever did you wait so long to tell me? You found something, you say? A disk… did you see what was on it?”
Play dumb, Cindel. “I don’t know what it is.” I fib while simultaneously lowering and pulling together my eyebrows. “I thought it was a computer part. Like a broken piece off a motherboard. Could you help me see what’s on it?”
He scratches away the dried blood on his cheek then clears his throat. “Why not just bring what you found to our meeting today?”
Shit-fuck, he has a point. Think, think, think. “I saw a cop. The one who came to my apartment asking questions about my last job. I got spooked. You know I don’t trust the police. I couldn’t risk anyone taking it. Maybe it has the answers I’ve been searching for… insight on Theo’s death.” I can barely hear the words leaving my mouth, I speak them so softly. The ringing in my ears trumps any present sound. “I hid it in the old club district. No one knows but me… and now you.” I wait with bated breath.
My uncle’s jaw ticks. Urgently I review what I’ve already said. Did I say the wrong thing? Was my face giving me away? Without a sound, he slides from the booth and stands. Reaching for his coat, he pulls it onto each arm, and adjusts his tie. “Well then… take me to it.”
Per Dax’s request, I share a cab with my uncle to the warehouse, instead of letting him drive me. He only agreed because of my “insufferable paranoia”. Neither of us is particularly communicative on the ride over, but Dax did play a song for me.The Verve - “Bittersweet Symphony.”It was the ideal song.
Funny… I was here less than twenty-four hours ago, yet instead of a rescue, I’m leading someone to their reckoning. I played my part to the best of my ability… he’s here. Now the rest was in the capable hands of people who apparently interrogate and murder. Okay… technically, I could be lumped into that category, but I did what I had to do for survival! I can’t deny… I am thrilled I don’t have to deal with Jada’s bullshit anymore.
As my ‘so-called’unclefollows me deeper into the warehouse, my mind wanders. How will this all end? Will he admit to everything or will it take some coaxing to draw out thetruth? Could I handle what’s about to happen? Turning left at the end of the hall, my belly feels like a wave pool; churning and crashing against the walls of my insides. What if I get to the room and no one is here? Then what?! Was coming here with my ‘liar’of an uncle a dumb decision?
I take a deep breath and slowly let it out, hoping he can’t hear me attempting to calm myself. I glance back at him with a reassuring smile, just as he checks his watch.
“It’s just through here. I put it in the drawer of an old desk.” I enter the familiar room first, with the office desk right where it was the night before. Along with the aging couch, which no longer has a slumbering Patrick Murray upon it. At first, the room appears empty, but once we were both in, I quickly realize we weren’t alone.
In a shadowed nook, nestled behind a stack of boxes, is a tied and gagged man. Once the man sees us, he begins mumbling uncontrollably while trying to scoot his restrained body from its darkened corner. His eyebrow is split, hair in all directions and both sides of his face are a purplish-black hue. Regardless of his state, I know exactly who he is.
My uncle’s wide eyes jump from me to his haggard accomplice, before he pivots and proceeded to flee the room. Faster than I can process what is happening, he is blocked by my sterling-haired roommate, framed within the only exit of the room. My uncle steps back, more confused than frightened. He balks at the barely five-foot hellion with both knuckles wrapped in black boxing tape.
Hey… are thosemyrain boots?! Something glints as she waves, resembling a possessed doll at a haunted house. A pair of brass knuckles affixed to one of her hands. Clearly, Andrea has been busy, since we last saw each other, using Officer Kent as a punching bag, before our arrival. I may be upset with her, but I can’t deny she is sort of a badass… also, a little scary.
The man I once considered my uncle turns to me, his upper lip twisted just as he lifts his too large nose toward the ceiling. “Is this the dumb leading the blind? Do you honestly believe that you and your feral friend can keep me here?”
Andrea turns to look down the corridor. A smile gradually grows on her face, as she turns back toward us. Relief washes over me as Eamon appears just behind her. My petite yet menacing roommate steps aside to let him pass. His expression is serious, unbending posture, confident stride, while dark pink skin runs along his neck and cheeks.
I’ve seen Eamon upset before. Like, when he handled those rude teenagers at the movies, but this is different. He appears murderous. One look into his eyes, and I even stepped back a foot. Grabbing the man of the hour by his shirt collar, Eamon backs Nicholas into an open chair. My uncle begins to laugh… an unsettling, tear-filled chuckle, at a joke only he knows the punchline to.
