28 – This Gift, This Curse

 

When Mira's phone rang, she honestly expected it to be her boss asking when she was getting back, since she couldn't think of anyone else who'd be calling her. A glance at the Caller ID showed her the call was blocked, which she knew her boss did with his home phone, so she answered.

 

"Mira," a well-remembered voice said, "before you hang up on me, we have to talk."

 

She glanced at Kevin. He was deeply immersed in a book for one of his classes, but she still went into the kitchen before replying, "About what?"

 

"Kevin, and his safety," Will replied.

 

"The police are watching the place."

 

"That's not enough." There was a long pause. "Look, is there some way for you to leave him alone for a few minutes. I'm… I'll meet you in the lobby."

 

"Perhaps," she said slowly. "Give me five minutes."

 

As soon as she'd hung up, she began to regret her decision. She wasn't sure she could handle being alone with Will, even in a semi-public place. Still, she had promised.

 

"Kev." When he looked up she told him, "I'm going to run down to the store I saw on the corner. I'm dying for some coffee."

 

He nodded distractedly. "Get me some too?"

 

"Of course. I'll be back in a flash, more or less."

 

After another nod from him, she grabbed her coat from the small closet by the front door and left, making certain the door was locked behind her. Two minutes later she was in the lobby. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw Will standing there. Other than the fact he was almost twenty years older, he looked just the same as she remembered him from when they had been a couple.

 

"You…you have real clothes and no beard," she said, feeling foolish a moment later.

 

He smiled then chuckled. "For the moment, yes. Do you want to sit down?" He nodded toward a bench along one wall.

 

"I promised Kev I'd bring him some coffee, since that's why I told him I was leaving. So if you don't mind, can we walk and talk?"

 

"Of course." He held the door for her then joined her when she was outside.

 

"So what's so important you needed to talk to me?" She knew the question came out more angry than inquisitive because she was feeling defensive.

 

"Kevin. Keeping him safe until they catch whoever attacked him—among other things."

 

"And you're going to do that?"

 

Will nodded. "At the moment Mick and I are in an apartment down the hall from his. The problem is explaining why."

 

She looked at him in surprise, saying tartly, "Yes, that could be a big problem. Do you have an answer for it?"

 

"Perhaps. When I saw him at the hospital, I told him I was an old family friend."

 

"Yes, you lied with a straight face, but then you were good at that, once. I doubt it's changed since." She took a deep breath. "That's past history. How are you going to explain you looked like a bum yesterday and now you look like a… a normal person? And who is this Mick?"

 

"A homeless kid I saved from a couple of punks. He kept following me around after that and in time we became friends."

 

"A substitute son?" she spat out.

 

"How could he be a substitute? I didn't know I had a real son until two days ago."

 

27 – This Gift, This Curse

 

 

"Real food!" Mick exclaimed, coming into the kitchen.

 

Will chuckled while he stirred the spaghetti sauce.

 

After arriving at the apartment in the same building where Kevin lived, he and Mick had unpacked their few new clothes and the sheets and towels Will had stopped to buy on their way there. Then they'd gone grocery shopping. He'd been hard-pressed to keep Mick from putting everything he saw into the shopping cart. As it was, they'd ended up with seven overstuffed bags of food and necessities. "Enough to feed an invading army," he'd muttered, as he paid the cashier.

 

Now he said, "Set the table, please."

 

Mick did, with Styrofoam plates, paper napkins, and plastic utensils. "Not high-class, but a lot better than what we're used to," he said when he was finished.

 

Will nodded, checking the spaghetti then taking it off the stove. "Whoever furnished this place forgot a sieve," he grumbled, carefully pouring out the water while trying not to lose any of the pasta in the process.

 

"Hey, at least there were some pots, so quit grousing."

 

"True." After doling out the spaghetti, Will poured sauce over each portion. "Water or milk?"

 

Rather than replying, Mick got two plastic cups, filling each one with milk before putting them down beside their plates.

 

"Guess that answers that," Will said. "So let's eat and then you can get on with your studies."

 

"What?"

 

Will grinned wickedly. "You thought I'd let you slide on that? You have to earn your GED."

 

"Hang on a minute," Mick said after taking a bite of spaghetti. "I thought that was just part of our cover story."

 

"Nope. You are going to get it. First thing tomorrow, once we know Kevin's safely in class, we're getting you a laptop and you can study for it online."

 

"But, but…"

 

"Do you want to make something of yourself?" Will asked sternly.

 

"Of course. But I was just thinking a job, like you said, once I get some ID."

 

"Which you will get, but that means calling home to get your birth certificate and find out your Social Security number. Then, when you have them, you can do anything you want—work, school, more school so you can get a better job…"

 

Mick sighed, taking another bite. "This is good."

 

"Thank you, and you're not changing the subject. After supper, you call home and get the information you need. While you do that, I'll check on Kevin."

 

"Umm, Will, how are you going to do that? Knock on his door?"

 

"I'll figure out something. After all, he thinks I'm a family friend." He shrugged.

 

"Who just happened to end up living in the same building and is suddenly much better dressed than you were the first time he saw you."

 

"So he might not even recognize me, especially without the beard."

 

"He might not," Mick pointed out, "but if his mother's there, it's for damned sure she will."

 

"You're right." Will stared down at his plate, realized he hadn't started eating, and twirled some spaghetti around his fork. As he raised it to his mouth, he had a thought.

 

"Are you planning on eating that or staring at it," Mick asked with a bit of amusement.

 

Will ate it before taking out his phone. A call to Captain Newsome netted him Mira's cell phone number but he decided to wait to call her until after he'd finished supper.

26 – This Gift, This Curse

 

 

"Take it easy," Mira said, as she watched Kevin make his way down the hall to his apartment.

 

"Mom, if I move any slower, I'll be going backwards."

 

"I know. Sorry."

 

He smiled as he unlocked the door and stepped aside to let her enter first. The place was just as he remembered it. Not surprising since I've only been gone a short time, although it seems much longer.

 

She put her small suitcase down by the door then looked around before pointing to the sofa. "Sit."

 

He carefully eased down onto it, saying, "At least someone got my laundry," when he saw the basket sitting on the table. He was sure it was his landlord's doing, but made a mental note to ask him, just to be certain. "Now if they washed it, I'll be forever in their debt."

 

Mira chuckled. "Somehow I doubt that happened." She started toward the kitchen, pausing to ask if he actually had food she could fix for supper.

 

He nodded. "I should, but you don't have to do that. We can call out for something."

 

"Let me mother you a bit more before I have to leave."

 

Since he still felt like hell, despite the meds he was on, he said, "Okay. But nothing fancy."

 

Looking into the refrigerator, she laughed. "I don't think you've got anything for 'fancy', so we're having burgers and a salad."

 

"That sounds good." His glance landed on the laundry basket again and something occurred to him. "I never asked who found me."

 

"According to the police, a man who lives upstairs from you. He told them the men must have heard the elevator door open. He heard someone running and saw the backdoor to the building closing. When he got to it, he saw two men racing away so he went to investigate, thinking they'd been trying to break into the machines for change. He found you instead and called nine-one-one."

 

"I'll have to thank him. I probably owe him my life." Kevin's hands fisted. "I wish to hell he'd seen who they were. What if..?" He shuddered.

 

Mira stopped what she was doing to come back and sit beside him, taking his hands in hers. "The police are going to keep an eye on you, you know that. Besides which, I'm sure whoever did this thinks you got the message and it's over now."

 

He looked at her, trying to believe what she said was true. Still… "But I don't know why they beat the hell out of me—or tried to. I don't know what he meant by 'belongs to me'."

 

"Kev, do you want to move somewhere else? Would you feel safer if you did?"

 

He thought about that. Would I be safer, or would they just find me again? Finally he shook his head. "I'll be fine here. I'll just, umm, do my laundry first thing in the morning before classes, not at night." He tried to smile as he added, "No self-respecting mugger gets up before noon anyway."

 

Mira chuckled softly. "There's the sense of humor I like from you." She squeezed his hand then stood up. "I'd better finish getting supper ready while you go get out of those clothes and into something clean."

 

He looked down at what he was wearing, the same sweats he'd had on during the attack, and shivered. Going into his bedroom, he took them off, dropping them where he stood, then looked at himself in the mirror over the dresser. And wished he hadn't. Livid bruises marked him from his chest down to his thighs, a graphic reminder of what had happened. He turned, trying to see his back. It was bruised as well.

 

Whoever you were, you didn't pull your punches. But at least you didn't break anything, although given time, you might have. He winced when he touched his ribs.

 

Taking out another pair of sweats from the dresser, he put them on and went back into the living room.

 

"Supper's ready," his mother announced.

 

He went into the kitchen, smiling when he saw two plates filled with hamburgers and salad sitting on the table. "Thank God. Real food."

25 – This Gift, This Curse

 

Captain Newsome gazed at them in surprise when Will and Mick arrived at his office the next morning.

 

"You are definitely not the two men I watched walk out of here last night."

 

Mick looked somewhat uncomfortable, being unused to clothes that really fit. After all he had spent the last four years wearing whatever he could find in a dumpster or get from the drop-in places in the city.

 

Will also was uncomfortable. But for him it was the return to what he had been, at least in appearance, which bothered him. The only thing that remained the same was his hair. Despite making Mick get his cut, Will refused to do the same, although he had shaved off his beard. As far as he was concerned, once this was over and Kevin was safe, he planned on returning to the life he'd been living for the past almost nineteen years.

 

As soon as he and Mick were seated, Will asked, "Is it set up?"

 

Captain Newsome nodded. "We got lucky, actually. One of the tenants living on the same floor as Mr. Parker decided to break his lease rather than stay in what he called 'an unsafe building'."

 

"How large is the apartment?"

 

"A small two bedroom, so there should be no problems with your passing as father and son. All you have to do is come up with a story to fit that and to explain why you're sharing the apartment."

 

"We've got that covered," Mick told him. "Our house burned down, killing my mother. Neither of us wanted to stay in the town where that happened and since I'm thinking of going to school here, if I can get accepted, we decided to come out here together. I have to get my GED first, so I'll be working on that while he job hunts."

 

Newsome nodded slowly. "Not a bad story and it gives you both a reason to be around the building during the day, in case someone wonders."

 

"It also explains why we needed a furnished place and came with just a couple of suitcases each," Will added.

 

"Good point." Newsome tore a sheet of paper from the pad in front of him, handing it to Will. "The address and the manager's name and number. Do you have a phone?"

 

"Yes. We picked up a pair on the way over here, at Mick's suggestion." Taking the captain's pad and a pen from the holder on the desk, Will wrote down the two numbers for him. "Anything else you need from us?"

 

"Nope, but just in case, I have something for you." The captain took a small gun and holster from one of the desk drawers. "Hopefully you won't be needing this, but better safe than sorry."

 

Mick's eyes widened when Will took the gun, glancing at him in apparent admiration and no small amount of surprise.

 

Will smiled slightly. "You're presuming I know how to use one."

 

It seemed the captain caught on immediately because he replied, "You aim, and if necessary, pull the trigger. Usually, unless it's a pro, showing that you have a gun will stop someone in their tracks."

 

Will knew that wasn't true. He hoped Mick didn't. He put it and the holster in his jacket pocket then stood. "I'll call you as soon as we're settled in. Do you know when Kevin's being released from the hospital?"

 

"Last I heard, not until this afternoon at the earliest but let me find out for certain." He placed a call to the hospital and a few moments later said, "Late this afternoon. That gives you time to move in and get the lay of the land."

 

"Good. Ready, Mick?"

 

"No, I thought I'd sit here and pick Captain Newsome's brain on what it takes to be a cop," Mick replied with a grin.

 

The two older men both chuckled. Then, after picking up their suitcases and Mick's new backpack from beside the door where they'd left them, Will and Mick took off for their new, if very temporary, home.

24 – This Gift, This Curse

 

 

Newsome's office was off to one side of the squad room on the second floor. Once all three men were inside and seated, the captain looked expectantly at Will.

 

"I'm sure you know about the young man who was attacked in the laundry room of his apartment building," Will began.

 

"I do. As a matter of fact, I'm the one who authorized your visiting him in the hospital."

 

"Jack went up the chain of command," Will said, with a bit of a smile.

 

"He did. Now what does this young man have to do with you?"

 

"I… was a friend of the family, way back when, before he was even born. I want to make certain he isn't attacked again and I know you undoubtedly don't have the resources to put someone on him for an extended length of time."

 

"We don't, I'm afraid. So what did you have in mind?"

 

"I want Mick—" he nodded toward him, "—and me in an apartment in the building. I'm sure you can pull strings to make that happen."

 

"You have a somewhat grandiose idea of my power," Newsome said, tapping his fingers together. "What would you be, if I can arrange it? Father and son?"

 

"That's what most people who see us already think we are, so that works."

 

"Why both of you? Why not just you?"

 

Will smiled a bit, glancing at Mick. "I'm sort of his substitute parent, for lack of a better word. I'm not about to go off and desert him."

 

"Yeah, he is," Mick chimed in. "He's even making me study and all that, after we've—well, you know."

 

"That sounds like you, Will. Tell you what, let me make a couple of phone calls to see if I can arrange this. It might take until tomorrow to set it up, if I can."

 

"That's okay. For obvious reasons, we have some shopping to do in the meantime."

 

"All right. I'll see you in the morning then. Around nine?"

 

"Yes." Will and Mick stood, heading for the door.

 

"Will, before you leave, may I have a few words with you in private?"

 

"I'll wait outside," Mick said, quickly leaving the room.

 

Newsome nodded to the chair Will had just vacated. When Will sat Newsome looked at him pensively. "Are you ever going to get off the streets?" he finally asked. "Get back to what you were so good at?"

 

Will shook his head. "Call it penance if you will, or whatever, but I'd be no good at doing that again."

 

"Will," Newsome said quietly, "Danny Parker's death was not your fault. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time and paid the consequences."

 

"He wouldn't have been there if it wasn't for me. I was too late to stop him."

 

"From what I've heard, that's not the way it was."

 

Will shook his head. "What you heard, what everyone heard, was…" He sighed deeply. "It doesn't matter now. I could have saved him. I had the chance. I blew it. End of story." He stood, looking down at Newsome. "Maybe, if I can keep Kevin Parker safe, it'll go a bit of a way toward redeeming myself in my eyes, if no one else's." He crossed the room to the door. "I'll see you in the morning. Please, make it happen."

 

When he was out of the office, Mick joined him, asking, "Is everything all right?"

 

"Yeah, it's fine. The captain just had a couple of questions. Personal ones. I guess he figured there were things I might not want you to know."

 

Mick rolled his eyes. "He guessed right, I'm sure. But someday…"

 

Will patted his shoulder. "Maybe. Someday."