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Chapter 5- Tea For Two
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I glanced at the window; I glanced at the kitchen not knowing which way to move. There were dozens of thoughts scattering through my head, but not one of them held still long enough to hold my attention until the blood stained carpet captured both my gaze and my mind. I went to the linen closet, grabbed an old sheet,and threw it over the spot on the floor. I dropped into my favorite chair and stared at a blank TV which I never bothered to turn on. When the rest of the room grew as dark as the screen, I startled to alertness. I darted from room to room turning on every light I could. My heart was pounding, and I was dismayed to admit that I was afraid in my own home.
I needed to speak with Wanda, and she needed to know about C.C. and Lindsey. Maybe she could shed some light on what had happened. Traveling from park to park, Wanda and Jesse, her husband, would be difficult to reach. Would the old number I had for her still reach her? And where was C.C. anyway? If he should return, how could I possibly tell him about Lindsey? What was in that letter? I stood at the fridge conjuring question after question until the icemaker filled my glass and started pouring ice on to the floor. The noise of it hitting the tile startled me, and I dropped my glass. As I bent to pick it up , I caught a blur and motion at my kitchen window. As I tried to talk myself out of seeing things that were not there, I heard a tap at the window.
I’ve always scoffed at TV and movie characters when they went toward frightening noises . I figured anyone in his or her right mind would run in the opposite direction. That isn’t what happens though. You do approach the unapproachable. You have to see the face of what is frightening to you even if you dare not look.
I yanked at the curtain to see what it would reveal. I was more frightened to think I’d find no one there than to come face to face with an intruder. Intruder it was; C.C motioned for me to open the balcony door. How had he climbed to my second floor balcony? He didn’t tell me, but that became a trifling question compared to all I needed to learn from him.
I let him in and was ready to throw all of the chaos, sorrow, violence, and fear he had invited into my home back at him. I was trembling with both rage and relief at seeing him. He boyishly tried to defuse me by saying “Could you make that tea for two?”
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Chapter 6- A Glass of Sherry
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C.C. led me by the hand to my couch and asked me to sit. He told me he’d provide the needed explanation momentarily but that first he was going to find the Harvey Bristol Cream and pour me a sherry. He said we’d save our tea for calmer times , but that right now he and I both needed the calm that comes with sipping sherry.
Speechless, I watched him locate the sherry and glasses, calmly pour our drinks, and bring them to where he sat down beside me. At that point he revealed that he actually had arrived back in town this morning .
Continuing, he described how he had waited in the coffee shop downstairs to be able to see when I arrived home from work. He saw all of the flurry, the comings and goings of police and ambulance. He knew something terrible had happened in the building and could only hope it had nothing to do with me. As time passed his curiosity drew him into the building where he saw that indeed the chaos was centered in my apartment. He spied my arrival home and was relieved to find me safe, but felt he couldn’t surface when the police were here.
It was at this point that I interrupted him, and I must have been angrier than I thought. I demanded to know why he left without any explanation, and what he meant by not being able to surface while the police were here. Was he guilty of something? Did he realize it was his wife in that body bag? Admittedly , he did not. I had neither the time nor the composure to break the horrible news to him gently, but when I told him Lindsey had been brutally murdered right here in this apartment, he actually broke into a smile.
I was at wits end with him. How could he be smiling at all, let alone smiling at the news that his wife had just been murdered?
He quickly assured me that his first response to any surprise was a nervous smile, but that he had felt a sense of irony at my news because only this morning he had left Lindsey safely at his mother’s campsite in North Carolina.
He had been back home these last two weeks moving Lindsey to safety. She and Wanda were secure in a remote site where no one could find them. He conveyed that they were more concerned about him and me than for their own safety. He implored me to trust his judgment. At this point he and I looked at each other and said nearly simultaneously, “..then who was in the body bag?”
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Chapter 7 - Spilled Sherry
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Tears Streamed down his face as C.C. confided to me that he was in dreadful trouble. “I would never have involved you if I had any idea that my mess would follow me here. I just needed a safe place to collect my thoughts and sort through my options. I had to put some distance between me and the chaos clouding my mind at home. I thought of you, but I, I was just thinking of my own needs” he stammered. “Justine,” he said, “I have to find a way to put this whole thing to rest; I need the twelve hundred miles and anonymity to think.”
He seemed to be thinking out loud more than talking with me. “C.C.. you and your problems have always been welcome here.” I assured him. “Just give me a little heads up; fill me in.”
Looking me straight in the eyes he nodded and said, “I had every intention of doing just that. Remember, we were going to grill steaks and talk? Well, that morning I received a call from someone who didn’t identify himself only to say that Lindsey and I were dead if I didn’t tell where Karla was.”
“Whoa, C.C.” I said, “Who is Karla?”
I was stunned at his danger and confused by lack of information. I had dozens of questions swarming me like angry bees shaken from their hive when the doorbell chimed. That usually friendly sound was an ominous reminder of our danger and the lateness of the night.
“C.C”, I whispered, “Call the police.”
“Hide!” he shouted, and then his shouts were matched by shouts from outside the door.
“Mrs. Carter, Mrs. Carter, Let us in.” I recognized Detective Pearson’s voice and rushed to give him entry.
He and two uniformed officers barreled through the door, knocking over the coffee table, spilling the glasses of sherry and pinning C.C. to the wall. We all gazed stunned as the sherry drop by drop mixed with the blood stain still there from earlier that day. When Pearson turned to me his eyes spoke of distrust and his voice was cool, “Just what is going on here?”
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Chapter 8 - Stale Night, Fresh Coffee
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The Police removed C.C. from the apartment. They had a long night of interrogation ahead of them and I was to meet them at the precinct first thing in the morning. Whether the police had feared for me or distrusted my involvement in the day’s murder, they had kept watch on my apartment. They saw C.C.’s shadowy figure enter from my balcony. He immediately became a suspect, and nothing I could share with them lessened their suspicions. I knew he could never have killed anyone, but tonight he was going to have to convince them of that.
I was alone now and exhausted, but as I looked around at my usually comfortable, familiar surroundings, my apartment seemed a foreboding, dangerous place. The police believed they had a villain in custody. I knew better. Whatever villain was responsible for the murder in my apartment was still loose and perhaps very near. Somehow I’d make it through the rest of this night and find someplace safe to stay.
I carefully checked all of my locks and curled up in my chair with a kitchen knife in hand to keep vigilant watch.
As day broke, light poured in to my apartment. By then I had made myself a fresh cup of coffee and traded my knife in for a pen. The pen was actually far more helpful than the knife. The list of things I needed to do became as clear as the morning sky. C.C. had not intended to involve me; nonetheless, I was involved, deeply involved. Whether it was the coffee, the morning sun, or the high one gets from knowing that this day was not going to be a usual day, I was refreshed, even exhilarated. I knew my home would not be safe until CC. and his family was safe. I would need to take leave from work. C.C. needed to be bailed out. He and I would find a safe, comfortable place to sort through the problems facing us. Hopefully Detective Pearson would become an ally and not a hindrance. I dressed quickly and headed downtown.
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