Chapter 7

  Friendship tested

“Where the fuck is my cup?” Lisa Marshall bellowed at no one in particular.  Jane could sense her friend and colleague’s frantic movements but remained quiet.  Jane had been upstairs showering and dressing when Lisa arrived at work uncharacteristically early.   Jane knew better and waited for Lisa to have her coffee before acknowledging her presence.   Jane gladly allowed Lisa to continue her rampage unchallenged.  Just as she wouldn’t poke a sleeping bear, Jane wasn’t about to intervene.  She could hear kitchen cupboards slamming, the noise then moving to the second office, a converted back porch.  When business started picking up, Jane wanted a more permanent second working space for staff.  That was the public reason.  Truth is, Jane knew there was no way she could share working space with Lisa.  Jane had patience, but not enough to shield her from her pain in the ass friend.  Lisa was loud, she was obnoxious, and she was Jane’s oldest and dearest friend. 

The two were polar opposites who met in college.  Lisa had traveled the world.  Jane’s biggest adventure was a high school trip to Houston.  Lisa’s unbelievable stories of adventure drew Jane to the lanky, tall red-head.   Unbelievable stories because many in their group didn’t believe half of Lisa’s tales.  Jane believed them all.  What other students saw as flaws in Lisa, such as big mouth, bossy and being a know-it-all, Jane saw as strengths.  To Jane, Lisa was everything she wanted to be: confident, assertive, and smart.  Lisa was tall, Jane was short.  Lisa was saying “fuck” before it was fashionable and wasn’t afraid to talk to anyone.  Jane didn’t know how to cuss and feared her own shadow.  Lisa had bedded more men than Jane had dated, which wasn’t saying much as Jane had dated maybe five boys before college.  Lisa helped to liberate Jane and for that Lisa had gained a lifelong and loyal friend.    

 “That little bitch better not have taken it,” Lisa continued, referring to young Reece Jason, her latest assistant and charity case.  Lisa took in stray people in the same way others take in stray animals.  Reece had come to work for Lisa about two months ago, her technical skills social media savvy had proven just what the office needed.  Neither Jane nor Lisa was especially gifted in the ways of technology, but they were smart enough to know who was and typically hired out the work as needed.  Reece had proven herself invaluable in a short amount of time. 

Plus, she had the patience of Job, which meant she might stay longer than Lisa’s previous assistant.   Jane recently teased her, saying she appeared to enjoy Lisa’s abuse.  Welcome to my world, Jane told a beaming Reece.

“My hip isn’t working today and I feel like shit.  I need coffee and I need a new hip.  How the hell am I gonna pay for that?”

 This time her words were directed specifically at Jane, signaling an official end to the quiet morning. 

“Good morning to you, too. What’s up?”

“Sorry.  I have more bills than I have money. I need money.”

Jane often wondered if Lisa might have bipolar disorder.  She certainly fit most of the criteria, including poor money management.  But so did most of America.

“OK.  How about we look at new wanted profiles on the FBI website,” Jane said.

The agency was building a reputation for being able to find impossibly lost people. All kinds. Lost siblings, lost spouses, lost parents, lost witnesses, lost colleagues. A couple of years ago, at Lisa’s suggestion, the agency had begun tracking criminals on fed’s Most Wanted lists. But only the ones with a hefty reward like Martin Senderson who had wiped out practically the entire savings of a small town just outside Pittsburgh.  He had been hired to manage a box manufacturing plant’s retirement account.  What he managed was to steal the money and disappear.

Lisa had heard about the case and thought it would be just the thing to further elevate the agency’s brand.  She turned out to be right.  Lisa had tracked the man to central Mexico where he was living as an artist. The publicity did not hurt SG’s business. Neither did the 50 grand in reward money.

            “Ok, let’s pick a perp.” Jane liked to consider the victim when choosing a criminal to hunt down.  Always the social worker.  Lisa looked at practical considerations.  Her background as a newspaper reporter and editor made her lean more toward facts and figures.  Halfway into the debate, Lisa’s cell phone lit up.
            “Hey” Lisa answered to Jane’s annoyance.  The rule was turn off phones or ignore them during morning conference.  Just as she was about to send her colleague a disapproving look, Jane stopped.  She could tell something was wrong on the other end of the line.
            “Where are you?” Lisa said into the phone, writing down something as she listened.
            “Are you sure you’re safe there?” Jane watched Lisa turn from looking sick to something else.  She had seen that look only a couple of times before, most recently during the ordeal with David.  Jane was patient, but she was getting worried and wanted to know who had called Lisa.
            “Stay put. I’m coming there.” Lisa set her cell down on the desk and appeared to steady herself.  Then she took in a couple of deep breaths and turned to Jane.  The social worker saw something vulnerable that didn’t fit her fearless friend.   
            Jane pulled her chair close to Lisa, who had begun to shake. 
           “Lisa. Tell me.”  Jane placed her hand on Lisa’s.  Voice breaking, Lisa says, “Someone has hurt my baby. Someone…..  raped…… Jessie.”  Lisa's daughter and only child raped?  Jane heard the words but couldn't immediately process the meaning. 
          Lisa scarcely got the words out before she fell forward, Jane catching her before both hit the floor.  Jane just held her dear sobbing friend because that’s all she could do.  For now.

Chapter 6

Calm before the storm

Jane carried her coffee to the office.  As per her routine, Jane chose to drink coffee and read the day’s newspaper from the oversized red chair she and David still owned from their college days.  It didn’t match anything in the room but, for Jane, it was something familiar, and through the years, the trusty cushion had shifted to fit her shape.  So much so, no one else could get comfortable sitting on the old chair.  Jane switched on the solitary floor lamp next to the chair.  Just enough to read in the dim light, but not too much light so she still could experience the sun come calling through the room’s east-facing windows.  By the time the sun filled the room, it was time to get to work.  But before then, it still was Jane’s time. 

Jane checked the local section of her newspaper first.  Always.  Scanning for anything of interest or familiar names, such as friends working at City Hall or her former colleague who now  was the spokesperson for a suburban police department.  Slow news day, Jane thought turning to the state section.  Not much luck there either.  Jane fished for just one headline of interest but all she could see was political reporting; if you could call it reporting.  All reporters did today was call one predictable talking head for a quote and then call a second predictable talking head to respond to the first.  No substance. Contrived news, Jane complained often to anyone who would listen.  Political season used to be a sport for Jane.  That seemed like a long time ago, certainly before the obscene amounts of money took the fun out of politics. Maybe if David was still around she might enjoy making fun of the headlines, like the one about her own state house member hosting a fundraiser in Austin the night before.  Squeaky clean Ted Jefferson raising money.  For what?   Like Republican politicians in Texas needed more money.  Jefferson probably had more money than all the Texas GOP combined.  This fact had always made Jane distrust the man as she did not, in principle, trust rich people.  Well, filthy rich people, Jane like to clarify.   The only thing they liked better than money was power, she would say.  And money and power in the wrong hands are a dangerous combination. 

As Jane finished her second cup of coffee, she set down the newspaper and looked around at the now sunlit room.  Time to get on with the day.  Jane moved slowly getting up, allowing her back muscles to properly stretch.  A nod to aging and also to maturity.  Jane no longer felt the need to speed from one chore to another.  Closing in on 60, she had learned to value time.  Moments as little as morning coffee ranked high on her pleasure scale.   Jane learned to value the early quiet, too, because as soon as Lisa arrived, the day’s volume would be turned to loud.

Chapter 5

Part of the plan

I did it.  I can’t believe I did it.  It felt so good.  It still feels good.  The bitch thinks she is all that.  Not anymore.  Not after last night.  I took her down a notch or two.  I wish I could have taken her all the way down.  That’s not in the plan.  Gotta follow the plan.  But shit, she thinks she is better than me.  That’s for sure.  I wonder how she feels today?  Like shit.  I wonder if she’s even awake.  I wish I could have let her see my face.  That would have been beyond sweet.  A moment.   For both of us.  What would she have said?  Would she have cried?  Begged for her life?  For sure.  She woulda sobbed like the little cunt she is and then start whining.  “Why are you doing this?  Why?”  Because you’re a moron cunt.  Too dumb to figure this one out.   Oh, and good luck with the rest of your life.  I wonder how long that will be?  I am too funny.