Redemption

REDEMPTION

S.C. Wynne

Dedication

Hiding isn’t healing. Sometimes we need a loving nudge to start the journey toward being whole again.

Chapter One

Rory was in front of me. He was charging in like a bull, with no regard to our safety. He shouldn’t have gone first, but he’d brushed off my concerns as usual. I could never get him to listen to me lately. He’d laughed at me when I said being cocky could get us hurt. But Rory knew best, he always did. So I followed him with my stomach churning as I tried to make out any movement in the shadows that surrounded us. Something was off. The old dark warehouse smelled like gasoline and mold, and it worried me there were too many rust-stained barrels and wooden crates to hide behind. I needed to tell him something wasn’t right, but when I opened my mouth to speak, no sound came from my dry throat. The silence was so thick I could almost hear the trickle of sweat that slid down my forehead right before the bullet hit him. Blood smacked my cheek, and I froze as the scarlet warmth slipped to the corner of my mouth. It was like sand slipping through my fingers as he crumpled to the ground and I flew on top of him.

Too late. Always too late.

I jerked awake, smearing the hot tears off my face. My heart was about to explode from my chest, and I was nauseous, drenched in perspiration. There was just the sound of my labored breathing and a clock ticking somewhere in the room. So quiet. So fucking silent. That was the worst part of waking up like this. No one to hold me and tell me it was just a dream. But that someone would be Rory. And this wasn’t a dream.

I stumbled into the kitchen, stretching my stiff muscles. Making coffee always calmed me. The heady smell of the beans grinding, pouring the water, flipping the switch. Rory had hated how strong I’d always made it. Is this sludge or coffee? he’d have asked grinning as he leaned against the counter. I’d have ignored him and poured myself a generous cup. I should have listened to him about the coffee. I should have paid attention to a lot of things better. I wished to God he’d listened to me about my gut feeling that morning.

I washed while the java brewed and got dressed in the little bedroom we’d shared. Everything looked the same as before he died. I couldn’t bring myself to change anything. On the dresser was the picture of us in Santa Barbara last summer. We looked so happy, sun-kissed and relaxed. I talked to that picture sometimes. But then the sound of my hollow, bitter voice would make the house seem even more empty and cold. Maybe I should get a cat or a dog. If only so there would be some noise in the house other than that damn ticking clock. I filled my travel mug and let myself out of the house.

The sun warmed my shoulders through my thin shirt, and a blue jay screeched somewhere unseen above my head in the purple jacarandas. It would be a beautiful day in Los Angeles, too bad I would be sitting in a courtroom all afternoon. I got in the car and sat for a moment. More silence. Rory would have had a story to tell, or maybe one of his dirty jokes he loved so much. Did you hear the one about the three-legged prostitute? I flipped on the radio and winced at the perky chatterbox giving the traffic report. How did she do it? How did she muster such enthusiasm for the traffic? I shut it off, disgusted. Maybe just people in general irritated me.

I drove the short distance to Fredrick’s office, surprised to see he was already waiting on the patio out front. He threw down his cigarette and crushed it under his designer leather shoe. He strode gracefully to the car, and I climbed out to open the back door for him.

Jesus Christ, Andrew. You’re late. He lowered his head and slid into the car. You’re never late, I was worried.

You’re never on time. I didn’t think it would matter.

As I returned to my spot behind the wheel, I observed his scowl in the rear-view mirror. He was watching the back of my head intently. What’s wrong? he asked.

Nothing, I didn’t sleep well, that’s all.

Did you have that damned dream again? he asked, running a slender hand over his sleek graying hair.

I ignored him and pulled out into traffic. The roads were unusually quiet as we made our way toward the Los Angeles Superior Court. Maybe the other drivers knew something we didn’t. Maybe the world had ended. Was it a bad sign that I didn’t care either way?

You need to talk to someone, Andrew.

Is talking going to bring him back? I asked gruffly.

Fredrick’s face looked drawn. It might be helpful to have professional insight.

Professional insight, I snorted. Here’s some insight; mind your own business.

Well if you’re going to make me late, it is my business. He sniffed. You’re generally a very punctual little son of a bitch.

It won’t happen again. I bit my tongue. I wasn’t here to argue. He was my employer these days, and my job description was to keep him safe. I would love to tell him to go fuck himself, but that would be impolite wouldn’t it?

Rory and I had met Fredrick right out of college. The ink hadn’t dried on our criminal justice degrees when Rory struck up a pseudo friendship with Fredrick at the local sandwich place near the courthouse. Rory had always been good at things like making friends. He’d connected with others effortlessly, while I was more reserved. Rory had loved everybody, and I’d had what I considered a healthy distrust toward most humans. But we’d been a great team. He’d plugged my gaps, and I’d like to think I’d done the same for him.

Eventually over turkey on rye and dill pickles, our desire to become private detectives had been discussed with Fredrick. Fredrick had already been establishing himself as an up-and-coming criminal defense attorney back in those days. Because of his relationship with Rory, he’d set it up so we could get the hours needed on the job to become licensed, and from there a beautiful partnership had been formed.

That was until Rory died last year, and I’d gone off the deep end. I hadn’t had it in me to continue the way it had been, and Fredrick had made a spot for me as his personal guard. I knew I owed him my sanity, but I couldn’t quite let him know that for some reason. Maybe I wasn’t positive my saneness was going to stick.

I only say something because I care. Fredrick’s testy voice broke into my thoughts, bringing me back to the present. The sides of his mouth were turned down. I don’t want you starting up that… behavior again. You know I took a chance hiring you when others said you were too old, burned out, and just a drunk. I have my fingers crossed you don’t prove them all right and make a fool of me.

If he was going to keep talking, it was going to be really hard to be polite.

You know I’m grateful for the job, Fredrick. Let’s not forget you pay me peanuts, you cheap bastard.

He seemed to buy it. I’d become a pretty good actor the last twelve months. You had to be when you were hiding stuff. There were so many prying eyes and caring questions, it was annoying and touching all at the same time. But I would probably be fine if they would all just leave me alone. My body had healed fairly quickly for a fifty-three-year-old.

I really wish you’d talk to someone. His voice was soft and distracted as he read over his legal briefs.

I didn’t respond, and instead pulled into the parking area of the courthouse. We entered the courtroom together, but I veered off to the side and seated myself behind him near his legal team. I tuned out the voices in the room and scoped the people and the courtroom casually. There were two beefy guards near the door looking bored. A nervous young blonde girl bending the corners of her paperwork sat near me. There were families of victims and the accused huddled in the hard seats, waiting for the lawyers and judges to decide the fates of all involved.

The judge eventually breezed in and Fredrick and his team went to work. Fredrick was very good at what he did. He was one of the top defense attorneys in the city and his caseload was staggering. Tough and relentless as a bull terrier, Fredrick rarely lost, so that made him popular with the criminal element in town. But when he didn’t prevail that same element was none too happy, and that’s why he had me. He’d failed to win an assault case a couple of months back with a kid who had gang ties, and his client had threatened him. Odds were the crook would never follow through on his threats. His clients tried to intimidate him all the time. I suspected Fredrick’s main motivation in hiring me wasn’t his safety so much as wanting to help me financially. And prideful or not I’d needed the assistance, so I’d agreed and he’d retained my services as his protector. So I drove him around and kept an eye on him at the courthouse. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. He didn’t die, and I got to eat.

Five hours later Fredrick finished arguing his last case, and I drove him back to his office, where I sat in the corner quietly as he worked. My cell buzzed shaking me from my drowsy state and I answered, not recognizing the number.

May I speak with Andrew James? A husky male voice asked.

Speaking.

This is Michael Lawrence. I was wondering if you wanted to set up a time to get together this week?

I was mystified as to what he meant. Set up an appointment for what? I’m sorry. Who’s this again?

Michael Lawrence… I’m sorry, Dr. Michael Lawrence.

He was a doctor? That