Sleeping with Anemone

“First of all, let me say how sorry I am,” the large man said as the limo pulled away.

“You failed. There is nothing more to be said about it.”

“But I can explain.”

“I don’t want an explanation. It’s enough that I must now step in, which is exactly what I wanted to avoid.”

“But see, you don’t need to step in. I know how to fix things.”

“Now? It took you how many tries to figure it out?”

“What I mean is, I understand that I should’ve taken care of the problem myself. It’s just that I didn’t want to risk having her see me. She knows my face.”

“So, instead, you hired stupid people to do the job for you? Did I not make it clear that time is of the essence? Did I not stress that finesse would be required?”

“It isn’t easy to find someone who-”

“Shut up. I’m tired of your excuses. Now we have one dead and another who could lead the police to me through you. I must think what to do about that.”

“Okay, look, forget about my cut of the action. Just let me fix this.”

The other man slammed his fist against the door. “I said shut up!”

The big man eased a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed his brow as he glanced out the side window. Was it his illness or his nerves causing him to sweat so?

He noticed the driver had turned the car into a wooded area just beyond the city limits. As they drove deeper into the forest, he wondered if he’d make it out alive. He eyed the door handle, gauging his chances of making an escape.

The car pulled to a stop before he could act. The driver got out and came around to open his door. The big man glanced fearfully at his seatmate. “What’s going on?”

“Get out.”

“Okay. Sure.” He’d be glad to hoof it home, no matter the frigid temps outside.

He stepped from the car and turned to see the driver bring a crowbar down on his skull. His last thought was that he should have known better than to trust an ex-con.

As Marco drove me to Bloomers that morning, I called my brother’s house to see how Tara was faring.

“She didn’t sleep well,” Kathy told me. “She kept having nightmares, some about you. Tara’s really afraid for you, Abby.”

“Assure her I’ve got an around-the-clock bodyguard. Does Tara know about the blonde’s death?”

“Not yet. I haven’t had the heart to tell her. That’s on tap for later this morning. I don’t want her to hear the news from her friends. She’s showering now or I’d put her on.”

“I just wanted to see how she was doing. I’m so sorry for what I put all of you through.”

“I know you are,” Kathy said. “We’ll be fine. You just take care of yourself.”

I put away the phone and blew my nose.

“Everything okay?” Marco asked as he pulled up in front of Bloomers to let me out.

I blinked a few times to clear away the tears. “It will be. I’ve got a strong family.”

I slid from the car and hurried inside Bloomers, where a welcoming party had gathered: Lottie, Grace, my mom and dad, and Sergeant Reilly. Starting with my mom, each woman hugged, then inspected, and finally admonished me about being extra vigilant, paying attention to my surroundings, not taking candy from strangers- okay, not the last one, but they were treating me as though I were five.

Marco rapped on the door, and Lottie let him in. He accepted Mom’s hug-she was a kindergarten teacher; hugs were built-in-shook hands with my dad, then stepped to one side to talk to Reilly.

When the women hustled off to the parlor to set out coffee and scones, I knelt down beside my dad’s wheelchair, knowing he’d been waiting his turn to talk to me. “How are you doing, Dad?”

“Never mind about me. How’s my girl? Are you really all right?”

It had been nearly four years since Dad had taken to a wheelchair, yet I still found it difficult to accept. He’d been such an active, vibrant man-a graceful dancer, nimble bowler, strong swimmer-before a drug dealer shot him in the leg during a drug bust. A subsequent operation to remove the bullet had caused a major stroke that paralyzed Dad completely in one leg and left him with limited use of the other.

My mother, brothers, and I were devastated, yet Dad refused to let his handicap prevent him from enjoying life. In true Irish spirit, he made the most of what he still had and joked about what he didn’t. Although his courage inspired me, the senselessness of the crime, and the fact that the drug dealer was back on the street nine months after his conviction while my dad was sentenced to a lifetime in his chair, gave me a deep hatred of injustice.

Now Dad put his hands on either side of my face, gazing at me as though memorizing my features. We shared not only the genes for red hair and freckles, but also a deep bond of understanding, making words often unnecessary. His thoughts were all there in his expression: He was extremely relieved the kidnapping had been unsuccessful, both for my sake and for Tara’s, and worried that next time the kidnappers might get it right.

“I’ll be okay,” I assured him. “Marco has promised to keep me safe. Yep, he’ll be guarding me pretty much twenty-four /seven now.”

Saying it that way sounded so-infinite.

“That’s a lot of time to spend with one person,” Dad said. “Are you up to it?”

I knew what he was really asking. He was aware that Marco and I were close to making a commitment, but he also knew that I had qualms about taking that step. “I guess this will be a good test… except I was never a great test taker in school.”

He tugged my earlobe. “Listen up, Abracadabra. This isn’t about memorizing facts and spewing them back. It’s about finding a person you trust and enjoy doing things with.”

It had been a long time since Dad had used my old nickname. He’d given it to me when I was a kid because whenever there was work to be done, I’d disappear. “And Marco is that person. It’s just that-I don’t know-I’m still nervous about taking such a big step.”

“It’s understandable that you’d be gun-shy. But don’t overthink this, okay? You have a tendency to do that, you know.”

“I can’t help it, Dad. I get that from Mom. And I think we’d better can this discussion because she keeps looking our way like she wants to know what we’re talking about.”

“Gotcha. Once this case has been solved and you have some free time, drop by the house so we can have a real talk.”

“I’ll take you up on that.” I glanced over at Marco, and he gave me that little half grin that always made my heart beat faster. Why was I so skittish? Marco had so many positive qualities, having him in my life all the time should be a piece of cake.

Since the shop wouldn’t open for another forty-five minutes, the seven of us sat around a table in the parlor sampling Grace’s freshly baked cranberry scones and gourmet coffee, while Marco and I recounted the evening’s events. Mom and Dad had already been to Jordan’s house that morning to see Tara and hear Kathy’s version. Now they needed mine.

After I finished, we turned to Reilly to update us. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to tell. All they knew about the dead woman, Charlotte Bebe, was what had been in the newspapers. An autopsy was scheduled for later that morning, and her boyfriend, Dwayne Hudge, was believed to be in South Bend, Indiana, where he had family. Police expected to have him in custody shortly, and Nils Raand had been brought in for questioning.

“That’s all I’m at liberty to tell you,” Reilly concluded, leaning back in his chair.

“Come on, Reilly,” I urged. “Tell us something that might be in the newspapers tomorrow.”

Reilly eyed me, as though weighing his options. “Can I have more coffee, please, Grace?” He waited until Grace had refilled his cup, then, after a moment’s consideration, said, “Two items came to light that tie Nils Raand to the kidnappers. The first is public knowledge, so there’s no harm in telling you. Charlotte Bebe worked at Uniworld until two weeks before her death.”

“I knew we’d find a connection!” I said.

“It was a big factor in the decision to bring Raand in,” Reilly said.

Marco frowned in thought. “I’m surprised Raand would hire someone to kidnap Abby who had such an obvious