Monahan 01 Options (32 page)

Me and my shoe clicked and limped up the sidewalk and I admired the neatly trimmed lilac and forsythia bushes which were strategically planted in the formal garden in front of the house. Hired help, I thought.

I tucked the large brown envelope with Rick’s severance documents firmly under my arm and straightened my suit jacket as I approached the front of the house. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Rick and I hoped that his wife or one of the kids answered the door. I couldn’t leave the envelope and run because my instructions were to get Rick’s signature on everything and return the documents to the office on Monday. If his wife answered the door, I thought, I’ll give her the envelope and tell her I’d wait outside while he signed.

The door of the house was open a few inches when I stepped onto the small front porch. I listened for sounds inside and rang the doorbell and waited. When no one came to answer the doorbell, I stuck my face in the opening of the door and called out Rick’s name.

I looked at my watch and saw that it was only ten to six. There was no car in the driveway and I couldn’t imagine that they had gone out and left the house open so I pushed the door open a little wider and called out again.

“Hello. Rick?” I waited for a few more moments to give him the benefit of the doubt. I listened for a toilet flushing or water running but heard neither.

I stepped off the front porch and angrily marched around to the back of the house to see if anyone was in the backyard and the shoe that hadn’t lost its lift got stuck immediately between the bricks in the walkway. I swore out loud, not caring who heard. “Fuck.” I took off both shoes and walked in my pantyhose-clad feet and made a mental note to charge the company for lifts for my shoes and one pair of pantyhose. This was definitely above and beyond the call of duty.

The gate to the backyard was locked and I yelled over the fence.

“Hello? Anyone?” I tried peering through the minute cracks in the fence to see if anyone was there and all I could see was blue. The shit has a pool too, I thought miserably. With all his severance money, he’ll be able to enclose it and swim all year round.

On my return trip to the front of the house I made up my mind to leave the documents and come back on the weekend to fetch them before returning to the office on Monday. I pushed lightly on the open front door and glanced around the marble-tiled foyer for a table to lay the documents on. The foyer was pristine and the only furnishings were a large chandelier that hung above the circular staircase and some very old-looking paintings hanging on the walls. To the left of the foyer the door was open to the room I remembered as Rick’s study. I called out once more and when no one responded, I scurried across the marble floor to the study.

The room was dark because the heavy, green velvet drapes were drawn. Rick’s desk was on the far side of the room and an eerie, greenish glow surrounded the high back of the leather chair behind the desk. The chair was turned around and the tall back faced me. I realized that the green glow must be coming from a computer screen behind the desk. Rick must be in the house if the computer is on, I thought with a jump.

I turned around and faced the foyer and called Rick’s name once again, but I heard nothing. I took a deep breath and reminded myself it was unlikely that I would be arrested for trespassing. The man expected you and was supposed to be here, I told myself.

I hugged my shoes to my chest and crossed the room to the desk and laid the envelope in the middle where he wouldn’t miss it. It was then that I knew something was wrong. I could see an arm hanging limply beside the chair.

Someone was sitting in the chair and I hadn’t seen them because of the high back.

“Rick,” I croaked out in a whisper but didn’t expect an answer. My bare feet were stuck to the floor and I was frozen to the spot.

Move, I urged myself. He might need help. I tried reaching across the span of the desk for the chair to turn it around but my arms weren’t long enough. I grasped my shoes tighter to my chest and slowly walked around the desk.

Rick Cox was staring at the blood spattered computer screen. The bottom half of his face was gone and in his lap was a gun. I tried to scream but the only thing that came out of my mouth was a hoarse moan.

I couldn’t remember the house number or the street name when I called 911 from the phone on Rick’s desk. The dispatcher assured me help was on the way. She tried to keep me on the phone but I hung up and I hurried outside. I was suddenly very cold and shivering violently as I ran to my car for the cigarettes I had left on the dashboard. I grabbed the pack and stood against the side of the house smoking and waiting for the police. My legs started to tremble and I looked down at them and willed them to stop. I stared at my bare feet and wondered where my shoes were. My big toe was sticking through my pantyhose and I thought irrationally that if Vee were here I could use some of the nail polish she always keeps in her purse to stop the run that was moving slowly up my shin.

I was on my second cigarette when a police cruiser silently glided into the driveway. The police probably felt that no sirens were necessary because I had told the dispatcher he was dead. I had made certain of that when I touched the limp arm hanging over the side of the chair. The arm was cold and I knew there was no need to check for a pulse. I had stared at the half of his face that was still recognizable and felt bile rising up in the back of my throat.

chapter forty-two

I tried to convince the police officers that there was no need for me to go back in the house but they insisted.

I had pointed wordlessly to the front door when they got out of the cruiser. One officer headed for the front door and one approached me.

“You made the 911 call, ma’am?” I nodded.

“You want to tell me what happened?”

I tried to speak but something was caught in my throat. I swallowed furiously a few times and still nothing came out.

He carefully took me by the arm and led me back up the walkway to the front of the house. I followed alongside him meekly. When we got to the front porch, my voice returned.

“I really don’t want to go back in there,” I told him.

“We understand that ma’am,” he said. I wished he’d stop calling me ma’am. I looked up at his face and realized that anyone who looked as young as he did probably called everyone over 25, ma’am. I wondered if he’d started shaving yet. His lips were moving and I willed my brain to pay attention.

“I’d just like you to walk us through what you found,” he was telling me.

I couldn’t look at the body again so I mutely pointed at the open door of the den and ran.

It was getting dark when Detective Leech showed up and knocked on my car window. I was huddled inside in a fog of cigarette smoke. His knock scared me and I jumped an inch off my seat before I rolled down the window. He waved his hand in front of his face when the smoke wafted out.

“It won’t be much longer now, Miss Monahan,” he told me.

“How come you’re here?” I asked him. “Mr. Cox killed himself. It was a suicide. You’re a homicide detective. Why are you here?” I was starting to feel hysterical and my breath was coming in short gasps.

I had been left sitting here, cooling my heels for an eternity. The body was still in the house and official-looking vehicles had been arriving in a steady stream. I had been watching everything through my rear-view mirror and knew that even if they said I could go, there was no way I could move my car.

“Why don’t you come out of there and get some fresh air,” the detective asked me as he pulled the door open. I had my skirt hiked up around my waist and was sitting cross-legged with my knees touching the steering wheel. I had been hugging myself and smoking.

I stumbled out of the car and tried to stretch the kinks out of my knees. Leech put his hand on my shoulder and looked down at me.

“Is there someone you want to call? Someone to come and take you home?”

“I look that bad?”

He nodded. “These situations are rough for the toughest types. You’ve had a shock. I’ve got a few questions for you but you could call someone in the meantime,” he said and offered me a cell phone he had pulled out of his coat pocket. When I didn’t take the phone he put it in my hand and wandered off.

Who would I call? I couldn’t bother Vanessa because I knew she had Ashley this weekend. I tried Jay’s number knowing that the answering machine would pick up. This time I left a message.

“It’s me. Friday night about eight. I, um, I’m at Rick Cox’s house. He’s dead.” I stopped talking and started feeling angry. I pushed the power off button on the phone. What a lovely situation. I had no one to call because I had no friends. My family didn’t live in the city and my pathetic life was catching up with me. I went looking for Detective Leech determined to get this over with and get the hell out of here.

I was lying on the sofa, shivering under my quilt. When the Detective had finished with me I drove the short distance home in a trance where I tried warming up in the hot shower. I finally gave up when the water started to turn cool. I put the kettle on to boil and found a box of teabags at the back of my cupboard. Comfort and warmth were needed and whenever I was sick as a child my mother gave me tea.

The living room was dark and the soft light from the streetlights washed over me where I huddled on the sofa clutching the hot mug in my hands, trying to get the image of Rick’s face out of my mind. The hot tea burned the back of my throat as I gulped it down.

I slid down on the sofa and pulled the quilt over my head. I couldn’t shake the ice-cold feeling in my bones so I breathed hard under the blanket hoping my hot breath would warm me. When the phone started ringing I willed it to stop. Even though I had been trying to reach Jay I couldn’t bring myself to talk to anyone.

When the phone stopped ringing I tried some relaxation exercises to calm myself down. I knew I’d had a shock. But I never thought my body would react like this. My mind was fully cognizant of everything around me and in fact, the sounds of the street from outside seemed sharper and clearer.

I talked to my body starting at my toes. Relax. Then the feet and the ankles. Relax. My body parts and I had a great conversation but I realized the technique wasn’t working when I reached my shoulders. I still felt tense and cold.

A hard knocking on my door scared the shit out of me and I yelped. I reached an arm out from under my quilt and felt around on the coffee table in front of me for my watch. I held it up in front of my face and turned it slightly to let the light from outside show me the time. Eleven o’clock. There was another knock, this time softer. I reluctantly crawled out from under the quilt and went to the door.

“Who’s there?” I asked through the door.

“It’s Jay,” came the muffled reply.

I undid the chain lock and opened the door a crack and saw that it certainly was the long-lost Jay. I pulled the door wide open and turned on my heel and walked back to the living room. Jay followed me and he stood and watched as I sat down on the sofa and pulled the quilt around me. I stared at him and didn’t speak.

He looked like a giant from my vantage point and I craned my neck up.

“Are you okay?” he asked me kindly.

“Do you know how many times in the last week people have asked me if I was okay?” I barked at him.

“Well, you just answered my question,” he said. “Can I sit down?”

I shrugged and he sat anyway.

“I got your message,” he said quietly.

“Which one of the fifteen?” I asked snidely. My mouth was working but the rest of my body was still on standby, I realized, as I started to shiver again. I pulled the quilt tighter around me.

Jay looked at me without expression and I chastised myself for biting at him. He didn’t owe me anything and it was probably time I started to realize it. A few rolls in the hay and a few terms of endearment whispered in my ear had started me down the relationship road. I felt like a fool for getting sucked-in to the love whirlpool.

“I got your message about Rick Cox. Can you tell me what happened?”

I was about to tell him to go down to the police station and read the police report but stopped myself.

“I was supposed to deliver some documents to his house.”

“And?”

“I found him dead in his chair at his desk.”

“My God. How did he die?”

“Shot.”

Jay took a deep breath. “Kathleen. Work with me here. Am I going to get one word answers out of you for the rest of the night?”

“I don’t think you’ll be here for the rest of the night, Mr. Harmon. You got my message because I didn’t have anyone else to call. I felt sorry myself at the time because I realized I had no one else to call. But I’m over that now. I don’t need friends. And I certainly don’t need you. So you can just fuck off and die.”

I felt my body warming up with rage and felt better. I was about to add Jay Harmon to my miserable-shit list.

Jay stood up. “Coffee?” he asked me.

I pulled the quilt over my head and felt tears fill my eyes. I told myself they were tears of rage and vowed I wasn’t going to cry. I had done enough of that to last a lifetime in the last week. Rick Cox was nothing to cry about.

The sounds of water running in the kitchen told me that he was making coffee. I heard cupboard doors open and close and I counted to ten. The man had nerve. He disappears from my life for forty-eight hours. He doesn’t call. And then he comes over as casual as you please and offers to make coffee. I threw the quilt off and stormed into the kitchen. He was leaning. With his hands in his jeans pockets. Shit.