Families are messy - 21

“Children, enough! This is getting us no where fast. Marcia, get over here and sit down. Now.” Fairchild glared at both of them.

“Who died and made you ruler,” she grumbled in response, but she did as he’d asked.

“Casey, what did you tell your people to explain why you’re not at work today,” Fairchild asked.

“I called in sick. I am allowed to do that.” He smiled slightly. “The prerogative of being boss. Whether they believe it or not is their problem.”

“So you’re covered and no one knows that you were in the hospital.”

“Nope, not them and not family, at least as far as I know.”

“Well one person must since there’s been no report of your death.”

“More than one,” Marcia said, “The emergency personnel and his neighbors who saw the ambulance there, again.”

Fairchild looked at Casey. “Has anyone in your family tried to get in touch with you within the last twenty-four hours?”

Taking out his cell, Casey checked for messages and then for missed calls. “Nope. But that’s my loving family, they only call when they want to yell at me or ask for money. Well except for Bing, he’s pretty good about keeping in touch but yesterday was Sunday and that’s his and Sammy’s alone time together. They stick to that rigorously unless there’s an emergency.”

“So even if he was the perp he probably wouldn’t have called because it would have seemed out of character.”

“True. God I hope it’s not him, he’s the only one in the family I really trust.”

“Well one way or the other we’re going to find out and soon. You just have to decide which way you want to play out the next step.”

“We have a big fight,” Casey said at the same time that Marcia replied, “We advance this so-called romance.”

“Not happening.”  Casey glared at Marcia.

“Happening,” Fairchild barked out. “I’m making the call since the two of you can’t seem to. Leaving you unprotected might give this person a better chance to get to you and the whole idea is to keep you alive, Casey. So, we’ll figure out a game plan that stands a chance of working.”

Casey smiled slightly as an idea came to him. “Since this whole thing is like something out of a bad movie let’s play it that way. My birthday’s Wednesday and so I’m going to celebrate it with a barbeque at my place; a medium-sized gathering of family and employees.”

“Isn’t that rather short notice? And what about Kathy?” Marcia asked.

“They’ll grumble, especially Alma, but they’ll show. And given her rather pointed comment about my getting down on my knees and apologizing to Kathy I have the feeling Alma will see it as the perfect time to force that by asking Kathy to come with her and Parker.”

“Alright, set it up,” Fairchild said succinctly. “Now I have to dismiss the two of you. I actually do have other clients that need my attention.”

“I still want to know where everyone was Saturday night,” Marcia said as she and Casey left Fairchild’s office.

“I can find out where they’ll say they were, if that helps. I have to call them to let them know about my birthday bash. I’ll figure out some way to ask that sounds natural.” Tapping his foot while they waited for the elevator to come, he gave that serious consideration and then swore when he realized something else he had to do.

Marcia looked at him in question, and chuckled when he told her he needed to go shopping if he was going to have food for the barbeque. Then he thought of something else equally as important.

“Isn’t today your first rehearsal?”

“Damn it, yes, in,” she looked at her watch as they stepped into the elevator, “three hours. I totally spaced it with all that’s happened and I have to go over the script one more time.”

Casey refrained from pointing out that she’d had all day yesterday to do that. He didn’t want to start yet another argument at the moment. “So you go do that and I’ll go shopping and make some phone calls. And before you say anything I should be just fine on my own at the moment. I got here without anyone trying to run me over or push me off the highest building in town.”

“Just why would you be on top of a high building?” she asked as the elevator doors opened on the building’s lobby.

“I wouldn’t be,” he admitted with a small smile. “Not until this is over.”

“Good, you do have a bit of common sense.” When he held the door for her she nodded her thanks before saying, “You will be very careful, understand, unless you want me calling Fairchild to get his ass down here and play tag along.”

“Which he can’t because he’s busy. When are you finished with rehearsal?”

“With luck, around six, why?”

“I’ll pick you up then.”

“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me if you could help it.”

“I don’t but it’s not going to look as if we’ve got an escalating relationship if we don’t spend time together. So I’ll pick you up and we’ll go get dinner.”

She nodded. “You have a point there. Alright, see you then.” She kissed his cheek quickly and then strode off down the street to where she’d parked her car.

Seconds later Casey’s cell rang. There was a text from her that said, “That was for show only. Don’t get any ideas.”

He rolled his eyes as he texted back, “Trust me, I knew that and I’m not.”

Families are messy - 20

“I don’t care what the cops say, it’s bogus. Casey wasn’t trying to kill himself.” Marcia glared at Fairchild.

“Hey, don’t yell at me, I’m on your side on this. I managed to get in to see him, well,” Fairchild smiled, “sneak in to see him yesterday afternoon. He’s going to be fine by the way according to his nurse. She’s something else.” He shook his head in amusement. “But that’s beside the point. He told me what happened, as much as he could remember. The nurse did confirm one thing that makes his story that much more believable. Who ever cut his wrist picked the wrong one. He’s right-handed and they slashed his right wrist.”

“Either they didn’t think about what they were doing or were just stupid.”

“Agreed. There’s one other thing, the dog. Straight out of Sherlock Holmes.”

“He didn’t bark?” Marcia almost smiled at that. “So Duke must have known the person, but that isn’t so surprising since we’re sure it’s someone in Casey’s family.”

“That just might eliminate Mr. Harman,” Fairchild said pensively. “I’ll have to ask Casey about that.” He leaned back to watch Marcia who was now pacing his office like a caged tigress. “So what went on between you and him? He said you’re the one who found him, and he didn’t seem very happy about that.”

“You’re what happened. You told him about me and he blew up.”

“So things were getting personal between the two of you?” When she nodded he said, “Sorry, but he had a right to know that his wife had set you on him. That, Marcia, is part of why he hired me, to keep him safe and informed about everything.”

“I know,” she sighed. “It’s my own damned fault.” She stopped her pacing to stare out the window. “If I’d been up front with him from the moment I thought...“ She sighed again. “But I wasn’t.” Spinning around to look at Fairchild she said forcefully, “We have to find out who’s doing this to him.”

“No shit Sherlock. And the first thing is to find out were everyone was Saturday night.”

“We can’t quite knock on their front doors and ask.” Marcia frowned. “Has anyone notified his family that he’s in the hospital?”

Fairchild shook his head. “Not as far as I know unless the cops did. Casey told me he wants to keep it on the QT. He’s hoping whoever is doing this will try again but more blatantly since they’ve failed four times now. And this time he’ll be ready for them.”

“That’s beyond stupid,” Marcia growled. “Doesn’t he understand how many ways they can still get to him? Hell, they might even drop the idea of making it look like an accident or suicide and just go for the throat.”

“I don’t think so,” Fairchild replied. “Murder him openly and everyone will be under police scrutiny including the killer. They’re doing it this way for exactly that reason.”

“So he goes to the police and lays it out for them the way he has for you. Surely they’ll see what’s happening and open their own investigation.”

Fairchild didn’t reply, looking past her to the door to his office instead.

Casey stood there, having come in moments before Marcia’s last words. Now he said, “As far as the police are concerned I’m in their records as having tried to kill myself twice. They’re not going to believe anything I tell them to the contrary.” He glanced at Fairchild. “Are they?”

“They’ll certainly look askance at you if you try to convince them otherwise. You have no proof to back you up.”

“Exactly.” Casey crossed to sit in the chair by Fairchild’s desk, pointedly ignoring the fact that Marcia was also in the room. “So it’s up to you and me to put a stop to this, Fairchild.”

Fairchild tapped his fingers on the desk. “You’d be asking for a quick death I think if you try to put yourself in position to be attacked again. This person has to be getting desperate. And,” he took a long look at Casey, “you’re hardly up to par at this point.”

“I agree, I’ve felt better but I’m up and walking and haven’t fallen on my face, yet. That said we have to set up something so that they won’t succeed even in my less than healthy state.”

“I can hardly spend twenty-four/seven with you, Casey. People might talk.” Fairchild grinned. “And Gabe would shoot me before your stalker got to you.”

“They wouldn’t think anything about me being with him,” Marcia said quietly from behind Casey.

“Not happening,” Casey growled.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Fairchild interjected before the situation could turn ugly. “We can play this out one of two ways. First, that the two of you are becoming much more serious about each other. That would push this person to act fast before you do something to make the relationship permanent.”

“You realize I couldn’t do that until my divorce is final,” Casey pointed out.

“But it could still look as if you were heading in that direction. That’s one scenario. The other is that the two of you have a very big, very public fight, one that makes it seem she’s breaking up with you. That, plus the pending divorce, could push you over the edge, or so it would seem if you were found dead by your own hand.”

Marcia shook her head. “If we do it that way that leaves him unprotected because there’s no reason for me to be with him.”

Casey shot her a sour look. “I’m quite able to keep myself safe.”

“Oh yeah, I can see that.” She looked pointedly at the bandages on his wrist that were showing beneath his shirt cuff.

“It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been pissed at you and not paying attention.”

“Right, blame me.” She smacked him across the back of the head before going to the window again, staring out at the street.

“What’s so interesting out there?” Fairchild asked.

She turned, leaning against the window frame. “Nothing. Just trying to regain control of my temper before I do him serious damage.”

“Maybe she’s the one after me,” Casey muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

“If I were you’d be dead,” she countered.

Families are messy - 19

“I give up,” Casey muttered, throwing himself down on his sofa. “I suck at choosing women and at relationships.” He patted Duke’s head when the dog came to sit by the sofa and look sorrowfully at him. Of course sorrowful was the usual bloodhound expression but to Casey, in the mood he was in, it still seemed as if Duke was commiserating with him.

“Be glad you’ve been neutered,” Casey continued, looking at the bottle of Scotch sitting on the coffee table, an empty glass beside it just waiting to be filled. “No stress, no worries if the pretty lady dog down the street likes you ‘cause you can’t do anything about it anyway. Three squares,” he picked up the bottle, “a soft bed,” poured three fingers of Scotch into the glass, “and a whole backyard all your own to play in.”

Tossing back the drink, he coughed at the liquor hit his throat in a fiery rush, swallowed it, and poured another.

“But I’m not letting this latest fiasco get me down,” Casey stated adamantly. “I’ve got a good life and the fact that is doesn’t include a woman who gives a damn about me is not really important. Is it?” He addressed the question to Duke who answered with a shake of his head as if he actually understood.

Tossing back the next drink, Casey stared into the empty glass, frowning. “Damn this stuff is stronger than I thought, or the fact that I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast is letting it get to me faster than usual. Oh well, if I pass out here wake me in the morning dog. Okay?”  

Two more drinks and Casey was feeling no pain. In fact he wasn’t feeling much of anything at all. So he blearily accepted it when someone put an arm under his to help him stand. All he said was, “Wha...?” as the person steered him up the stairs to his bathroom. He was vaguely aware that he was being undressed as he was handed one more drink. He held it unsteadily, spilling more down his chin than he actually drank.

He was urged, naked, into the tub which was filled with warm water. His head fell back against the wall and then his hand was lifted and he felt something sharp press against his wrist.

* * * *

“Casey? Mr. Rothem?”

Casey struggled to open his eyes. He felt so tired, drained. When he finally got them open enough to see who was talking he didn’t recognize the woman. Or where he was he realized. It certainly wasn’t him home.

“Where?” he croaked out.

A gentle hand touched his forehead. “You’re in the hospital.”

He frowned, trying to remember, to figure out why. “Was I in... an accident?”

The woman, who he realized was a nurse, shook her head. “According to the EMTs you tried to kill yourself.”

“The hell I did,” he stated, angry that anyone would think that.

“Casey?” This voice was male and came from the other side of the bed. He turned his head carefully to see a doctor in scrubs standing there. The doctor picked up one of Casey’s hands, showing him the bandaged wrist. “You took an overdose of sleeping pills, with liquor, then climbed into the bathtub and tried to slit your wrist. At least that’s how it appeared when you were found.”

“Are you saying that’s not what happened?” The doctor turned to look at the speaker and Casey saw yet another person, the police officer who had asked that question.

“I am,” Casey told him, his voice soft but adamant.

“Then what did happen?” the officer asked.

Closing his eyes Casey tried to remember. Finally he said, “I came home and had a couple of drinks.” There was a long pause. “I remember thinking that they hit me pretty fast and figured it was ‘cause I hadn’t eaten since morning. Then...“

“Yes?”

“Someone else was there, I’m sure of it. Someone made me get up. I vaguely remember them helping me upstairs and, and that’s it.”

“You’re certain about that?”

“Yes,” Casey said wearily. Then he thought of something. “Duke.”

“That’s the name of the person you say was there with you?” the office asked.

“No. Duke’s my dog. He was there. He... he must have known the person.”

The officer skimmed back a couple of pages in his notebook. “The responding officer says there was a dog there, but he was in the backyard and the door was locked.”

“How... who found me?”

Again the officer checked his notes. “A woman. She said she banged on your front door, tried to call you, and got scared so she called 911 for help.”

“One of my neighbors?”

“No. A Miss Marcia Lamberti. She said she was a friend of yours.”

“She was, yes.”

The doctor had been keeping an eye on the monitors. Now he said to the officer, “Can any other questions wait for a while. Mr. Rothem needs to rest, undisturbed, right now.” He stressed ‘undisturbed’.

The officer’s mouth tightened but he nodded and left the room. Once he was gone the doctor checked Casey’s vitals, deemed him on his way to recovery, and told the nurse to call him if anything changed. The he too left.

Casey looked at the woman and said “Just how badly off am I?”

“Not as bad as the doctor made the cop think,” she replied with a smile. “You’ve had your stomach pumped, you were intubated on your way here which is why you might have a bit of a sore throat, and you lost some blood. Luckily whoever did that to you was an amateur. They cut across your wrist, not lengthwise.”

“So at least you believe I didn’t do this to myself?”

“Unless you’ve suddenly become left-handed, you bet. That’s another thing your attacker didn’t think about. Of course this is just me being the amateur detective, but I’m fairly certain I’m right.” She patted his shoulder before pulling the sheet up to his chin. “Now follow doctor’s orders and get some sleep. I’ll keep an eye on you, I promise.”

He glanced at her name tag before his eyes closed. “Thank you, Nurse Tabitha,” he murmured.

She smiled, saying as she turned away. “Just call me Tabby, everyone does.”

Families are messy - 18

“How dare you!” Casey kept his temper tightly under control, but only barely, as he said those words while pacing the length of the room and back.

“It started out as a job and nothing more. To make contact with you, to make friends with you, to see if you had something going on the side, some floozy as your sister would call them. To find something that could help your wife to get more leverage in the divorce proceedings.”

Casey’s chuckle was bitter. “Well she almost got that didn’t she? Was that the next step if you didn’t find that I was involved in an affair? Were you supposed to seduce me, because I have the feeling that you were working up to that?”

Marcia sighed, shaking her head. “That was not in my game plan, and not what Kathy or rather her lawyer hired me to do. As I just said, I was only supposed to find out if you were playing around.”

“Well you know I’m not so you can go back to her, tell her so, and go on your merry way to wherever you came from.”

“Casey, shut up!”

He looked at her in shock. “Excuse me?”

“Sit down and be quiet for a moment. I need to say something and then you can leave if you want to.”

“I want to do that now,” he growled. But he did sit, tension showing in every line of his body. “Talk.”

It was her turn to pace as she formed her thoughts. “It was just a job at first. I’ve worked for Kathy’s lawyer before, although not in this capacity. He pays well so against my better judgment I took the assignment. It was fairly evident to me right from the start that you’d remained faithful to her but I stuck around just to be certain.”

He remained silent, listening.

“Before you ask, most of what I told you about myself is the truth. I do work for the catering company. It makes a good cover for getting information. And I am an aspiring actress.”

“I’d say you’re well past ‘aspiring’,” he spat out.

“Be that as it may I’ve only lied to you by omission.”

Marcia stopped pacing to look at Casey. “When you told me about the two apparent accidents you’d had I began to worry. My first thought was that Kathy was behind them but if she was then why go to the bother of letting her lawyer hire me.”

“Double blind,” he muttered, not looking at her.

“Possible of course but as you and I talked I began to see there were other... suspects. That worried me.”

“Gee, how nice of you to become concerned.” He finally looked up at her. “Were you ever going to tell me, or were you just going to go on letting me make a fool of myself, thinking we might be moving past being friends to something more.”

“You weren’t the only one who thought that might be happening, Casey.” She ran her hands through her hair, pulling it back off of her face. “Friday night, when you asked if you’d be able to see me any more once rehearsals started I almost told you no, that I’d be too busy. I was going to use that as the excuse actually, the way to get out of your life. You’d hired Ezra, he’d find out who wanted you dead, I thought it was time for me to move on, away, back to my life and let you have yours back before, before I couldn’t.”

“Wait just a minute, you know Fairchild?”

“Yes, of course, we’re both investigators, we both work for ourselves, so sometimes when one of us needs help with some job we’ve taken on we call the other one.”

“So you’re suggesting I go to him had already been set up. Why didn’t he tell me that from the beginning? After all he’s supposed to be working for me.”

“Because it hadn’t been set up. I suggested you get in touch with him because I know he’s good, but...“

“But you didn’t want him letting the cat out of the bag about you.”

“No,” she said, sighing. “I didn’t want you hating me for my subterfuge.”

“You make it sound as if you give a damn whether I do or not.”

Her expression was plaintive as she replied, “Because I do.”

“Tell that to someone who believes you, because I don’t, I can’t. I can’t believe anything you say any more.” He stood abruptly, heading to her apartment’s front door. “Have a good life, Marcia. Maybe the next man you pull this type of con on will be luckier than me and get out before he starts caring.” Without another word he pulled the door open, stepped into the hallway, and carefully closed it behind him.

Welcome Sue Brown and 'Stolen Dreams'

I have a friend. Whoa, Sue, a friend!! Yeah, yeah. Anyway, the one thing she can do is plot, and plot really well. I give her a paragraph, and the next thing I know she’s given me two A4 sides of story.

'Stolen Dreams' was one such story. She gave me the major plot idea in the story. When I first read it, I thought don’t be daft, this will never work. Life is not that fantastic. But the fact is, life is that dramatic. If I gave you my family history, with husbands/wives, kids in children’s homes and being bombed out in the war, you would never believe it. More twists and turns than a Robert Jordan book.

Well several months later, here is 'Stolen Dreams', complete with the hook that first flummoxed me.

I hope you think it works. She tried really hard to make it realistic.

Sue’s Bio:

Sue Brown is owned by her dog and two children. When she isn't following their orders, she can be found at university listening to lecturers discuss long-dead theologians. In her head, however, she's plotting how to get her cowboys into bed together; she just hopes the lecturer doesn't ask her any questions.

Sue discovered M/M erotica at the time she woke up to find two men kissing on her favorite television series. The series was boring; the kissing was not. She may be late to the party, but she's made up for it since, writing fan fiction until she was brave enough to venture out into the world of original fiction.

Stolen Dreams:

 Stolen Dreams was published by Silver on 31st March.

In a moment of madness, Morgan cheated on his best friend and lover, and Shae walked out without looking back. Five years on, and Morgan has a new life. He is engaged to a tempestuous and passionate Hollywood actor, Jase, and his career as an assistant movie director is thriving.

The last thing Morgan expects is for Shae to walk back into his life. It is clear from the start that he is still deeply attracted to Shae, and that feeling is returned. What is also obvious is that everyone else can see it, including his fiancé.

As Morgan and Shae get to know each other again, they discover the extent that friends meddled in their lives to keep them apart five years previously. Morgan finds that he cannot deny the fact he is still in love with Shae, but he is engaged, and Shae has secrets that he is not prepared to share. Morgan has some hard decisions to make as he struggles not to hurt the men that he cares about.

Excerpt: 

Morgan searched for something to say that wasn't "Why the fuck did you leave me and never come back? Why did you leave me?"

"I'm sorry to hear your dad is ill," he said eventually, when the silence stretched uncomfortably long.

Shae looked relieved at the innocuous topic. "He'll be fine but he needs an operation on his gall bladder. He's having some tests now." Correctly interpreting Morgan's surprised expression, Shae added, "Mom threw me out of the hospital. She said I was making her miserable."

That made Morgan grin, which Shae returned sheepishly. Of course, Peggy Delamere would send Shae off for coffee rather than have him fussing around her.

That seemed to be the end of that topic. Morgan was desperately casting about for another when Shae looked over, this time with a question in his eyes. "You own this place?" he asked, waving a hand around the coffee shop.

"Yup, all mine." The pride was evident in Morgan's voice.

A puzzled frown marred Shae's forehead. "I thought you were off making films these days."

"I am. I bought this in case I didn't get any work with the studios. I have a manager who runs the place for me.” He waved at Marilyn behind the counter.

"MC's.” Shae smiled, a genuine expression that reached his eyes. “I should have guessed. Angela dragged me in here bitching about wanting to sit down. I didn't pay much attention to the name of the place. When did you buy MC's?"

Shae seemed genuinely interested so Morgan answered, "About four years ago. I bought this place with the money my gran left me."

The expression on Shae's face softened. "I was sorry to hear about her death," he said, the sadness in his tone audible.

"You heard about Gran?" Morgan was shocked. After they split up no one would talk to him about Shae at all. He'd had no news in nearly five years, despite repeatedly begging their friends for information.

"Pete told me. He thought I'd like to know."

Morgan nodded slowly. "You always got on with her better than I did." He paused. "Pete never told me about you."

"I asked him not to," Shae admitted, "I didn't want you to know just how—"

He was interrupted by Jase and Angela coming over with four steaming mugs of coffee. Morgan did his best to smile at his fiancé but his timing was shit; he really wanted to know how Shae had been about to conclude that sentence.

Jase and Angela carried most of the ensuing conversation, with Morgan and Shae chipping in when they were prodded. The discussion was painful. In any other circumstances Morgan would have been amused, watching Shae retreat into sullenness in a situation that made him uncomfortable. Morgan wanted to talk, ask questions, and demand an explanation for Shae's disappearance. Instead he had to wait until Angela looked at her gold bracelet watch.

"Time to go, Shae. They said your dad should be awake soon."

Morgan stood up with them. "Do you want to take coffees back for your mom as well?"

"Cool. Peggy will be definitely cranky by now without some caffeine inside her," Angela agreed.

"Marilyn, get whatever Shae and Angela need. On the house," Morgan called. She nodded in response. He turned to the couple. "Nice to meet you, Angela." He gave her a smile, and although it felt forced she seemed to appreciate the gesture.

"Thanks, Morgan." Angela stretched up to give him a kiss on the cheek and then gave another one to Jase.

"I hope your dad is okay, Shae." Morgan held out his hand to Shae and this time the man shook it without hesitation. Maybe it was his imagination but he was sure Shae held his hand for a little longer than strictly necessary.

After the pair had left with their takeout coffees, Morgan sat back down, only to see Jase looking at him speculatively.

"What?" Morgan asked.

Biting his lip, Jase took a while as if considering his words carefully. "Tell me you don't still love that man and I'll believe you."

"What?" Morgan repeated, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't love Shae Delamere, and I'll believe you."

Morgan sighed, knowing he had always been shit at lying to Jase about even the small things. He wasn't about to lie about Shae. Taking Jase's hand, he replied, "I do still love him, but…" He made sure he was looking directly at his fiancé when he spoke again. "I am in love with you. Shae is my past; you are my present and future."

He could tell Jase still wasn't completely convinced so Morgan showed him in the best way he could, cupping Jase's face with his hands and kissing him tenderly.

"Ummm," Jase mumbled, and Morgan smiled as he watched Jase's blue eyes take a while to focus.
"Thank you," Jase murmured, and pulled Morgan over for another kiss.

As Morgan lifted his head, a movement outside the window attracted his attention. He looked over to see Shae staring at him, his lips pressed in a thin line as he watched the two of them kissing.

Immediately Morgan felt guilty, although why he should feel like that about kissing his own fiancé he had no idea. Shae looked away. Jase followed Morgan's gaze and saw Shae watching them through the front window. When Jase realized who stood staring at Morgan, his expression mirrored the anger and hurt on Shae's. He got up, muttering something about seeing Morgan at home later.

Alone on the sofa, Morgan watched his fiancé and the man who had once been his life walk away in different directions.