Blood had found its way between his fingers. I was too alarmed to pay much attention to it. Well, not too much. I did notice how the overhead lights reflected dully off it. Perfectly off it. He was looking around wildly, trying, no doubt, to figure out how we had gotten in. He walked briefly outside and saw his destroyed garage.
“What the fuck?”
I said nothing. There was nothing to say. Something like this could cost me my private investigator’s license. I hadn’t been thinking. I hadn’t been thinking for a few days now. Hell, even longer. After all, Orange County was being stalked by a sick son-of-a-bitch, and I had found myself in the thick of it.
But I couldn’t think about that now.
I blinked. Coming back to my senses. What had I done? Sure, I might have talked my way out of something like this, but it was impossible with Gertrude next to me. Her husband, CS Shine, came over to her, equally stunned. There was a big blotch of cream-colored paint on his hip where the pail had been knocked over and washed over him.
“Trudy?” he said, looking from her, to me, to the broken door, to his bleeding mechanic friend. “Trudy, what’s going on?”
I looked at her and saw that she was crying, holding her hands over her face. She was looking up at the stern, the back of the boat where the massive propeller was mounted. Although most of the boat was covered in a blue tarp, the stern was exposed, perhaps so the mechanic could have a go at the engine. Painted in fancy black script above the propeller were the words “Gertrude Forever.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, but she was crying so of course she understood. Perfectly.
He smiled at her patiently, and I saw the love radiating from him. Literally. I could see the warm, violet waves emanating from the light field that surrounded him, reaching out to her. “You always wanted to travel the world, honey, and now we can. We’ve been overhauling it. Al, Becky’s boyfriend, has been letting me use his shop and helping me rebuild the engine.”
She buried her face in her hands. “I thought you were...” But she couldn’t finish her words.
“Having an affair?”
He smiled warmly, and instead of defending himself or laughing off her insecurity, Mr. CS Shine went over to his wife and gave her a big, smothering hug, and I heard the intimate words he whispered softly into her ear, “Ah, my sweetheart. Don’t you know by now you’re my precious girl?”
“I’m so sorry—”
But he shushed her and held her, and his words hit me hard. I fought my own tears and mostly won.
Just then the young mechanic appeared in front of me. “Someone’s paying for my door and for this.” He pointed to the gash in his forehead.
I told him I would. I told him I would do anything he needed. I gave him my card and he nodded, and I could see the questioning look in his eyes, even though he didn’t voice his thoughts:
How the hell had we broken his door?
But I only smiled weakly at him, told him to send me any bills. Mr. and Mrs. Shine were pressed tightly in each other’s arms and the mechanic bled into a dew rag pressed tightly to his head.
Okay, I conceded. Some men weren’t assholes.
Some men were angels.
I slipped away from the embracing couple. Into the night. Where I belonged.
The End
~~~~~~~~~~
Nightmare
Nightmares.
We all have them. We all wake up in a cold sweat, bolting upright in bed, praying like hell that we were only dreaming. The relief that it had all been just a bad dream is nearly overwhelming. For the lucky few, they might only experience such nightmares, once, twice a month.
For other like me...and Susan, well, our nightmares would never end. Ever.
Until now.
Until we did something about it.
* * *