Page 30 of Chasing Storm

That’s until Teagan gets a call that changes our situation. We all are in the living room, watching a movie when she receives the call from an unknown number. I stop the movie, and Teagan puts the call on speaker. She’s hesitant to answer, not knowing who would be contacting her on the burner phone.

In a low voice, she answers, “Hello?”

“Teagan? It’s Angelo Podesta.”

She lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh, Hi.”

“Your brother gave me the number.”

I curse her brother for doing such a stupid thing. There’s a reason people use burner phones: not to be tracked. Leo giving him the number makes it useless in the future, especially when Angelo is a Chicago Police Officer.

Teagan asks, “Is everything okay?”

“Well, no. I’m calling about Rosie.”

Teagan’s head whips to me, and she gnaws on the inside of her cheek. Rosie owned the florist shop Teagan worked at when we first married. I made her quit because there were a ton of cops in the area, and I knew they’d harass her when they found out we were married. A cop is the last person I want Teagan learning about my past from. She hated me for making her quit. But Rosie showing up at the charity gala with Officer Podesta by her side proved why I was worried.

Her fear is building. Bubbles form in my Teacup’s eyes.

With a shaky breath, she asks, “What’s wrong with Rosie?”

“She’s had an accident, Teagan.” There’s a pause before he continues, “Rosie always talked about you, so I thought you’d want to know.”

She clears her throat. “How bad?”

Angelo takes a gulp of air and sighs it out. “It’s…bad. They’re not sure she’ll make it.”

“What? What hospital?”

“Chicago General.”

“I’ll be there. Tell Rosie I’ll be there.”

Teagan hangs up before saying goodbye, gets up from the couch, and runs upstairs, me chasing after her. In the bedroom, she tosses on jeans and a sweater and fills a suitcase.

“Uh, Teagan, you can’t go.”

She turns on me in haste and says, “Yes, I am. You made me quit working for the one person who kept me sane.” She jabs her finger into my chest. “Rosie needs me and I’m going.”

I follow her around the room. “It isn’t safe. The hit might have been scrubbed but—”

“I don’t care.” Her body is unsteady. “I love that woman. If I can run for my life, I can also take it back, and I’m taking it back right now!”

We’re at a stand-still, staring at one another, tears cascading down her face. She gathers her sweater into her fists, wiping them away while more pour down.

“I’m coming with you.”

Sean and my mom are in the doorway, and when I say I’m coming along, they want to, too. Teagan mouths athank youto them, but I squash the idea. Someone has to stay behind to let the realtor and potential buyers into the house. I’m not giving the alarm code to anyone. Reluctantly, Sean and my mom agree.

On the way to Chicago, Teagan phones her brother to tell him about Rosie and asks if we could stay at their house. I explain to her we can get a hotel room, but she ignores me, and Leo says it’s no problem.

The car ride is quiet, aside from Teagan’s sobs. I remember how angry she was when I told her she had to quit. She loved the job, and from the way she greeted Rosie at the charity gala, it appears her feelings were the same for the woman. Approaching the city, I take her hand in mine and rest it on her thigh. She doesn’t glance at me, endlessly dabbing at her eyes, but she grips my hand a little tighter. Instead of going to her brother’s house, she wants to go to the hospital first. It’s around three in the morning, so I guess the hospital is a better choice to avoid waking everyone up at Leo’s house.

I park in the hospital parking lot, and we walk toward the front of the hospital. Teagan calls Officer Podesta back to find out what floor. Instead of telling her, he comes down to meet us. He’s a wreck. He has half-closed watery red eyes and wrinkled clothes. We all shake hands before he takes us up to her floor. Nothing’s said until we’re outside the room.

Something’s not right the way Officer Podesta glances around the hall, shuffling from foot to foot. I’ve never seen his hair unkempt as it is now, along with his disheveled clothes. He stares down the hall. I grip my sweater, fisting it, and grimace at the unspoken words. Examining the pain etched onto his face, I recall the time I returned to work after getting married, and Rosie mentioned Officer Podesta asked about me. Her cluelessness made me laugh. She assumed he was interested in me when the man clearly had a thing for her. He only asked about me to make sure they were alone, so he could ask her out.

Podesta’s voice cracks when he says, “I didn’t want to say anything to you downstairs.” His anguished eyes meet mine and he squeezes his lips together to stop them from quivering. “Rosie died fifteen minutes ago.”

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