Page 14 of A Deeper Darkness
Amazing, how they were both talking around him. As if saying his name would cause him to reappear, insubstantial and transparent, to stare at them sadly. It might, at that. The name of the dead is a powerful beast indeed.
Eleanor deflated. “Oh, Sam, maybe it’s just wishful thinking. Maybe I can’t accept the fact that fate decided his time was up. But something is nagging at me. It just feels wrong. It feels all wrong.”
She drank some of her tea, then set the cup down on the counter.
“How are you, Sam? You’ve gotten entirely too thin, but that’s to be expected. I did, too, when Jack died.”
Sam’s hands were tightly clenched in her lap. She noticed how red they were, how worn.
One Mississippi…
No, no, no. Not now. Not here. The two worlds must not be allowed to collide.
Normal. Nominal.
Sam couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t escape it. She picked up her teacup and sloshed a bit over the edge, over her fingers, onto her blouse.
“Damn it. Look at that.”
She rose from the stool, apologetic, and started the water running as quickly as she could. Felt the anxiety slink away, content to retreat into its dank hole.
One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi. Four.
Eleanor watched her silently. She felt the woman’s eyes boring into her back. Sam gazed out the window to the small garden planted in the backyard. Saw a flash of white, heard giggling. She turned the water hotter.
When she felt marginally cleaner, she made her way back to the stool and sat.
“I’m fine, Eleanor. Let’s talk more about…Eddie. When did you see him last?”
Eleanor squinted her eyes at Sam, but let it lie. Thank God. Sam was only one woman and, in her mind, not a very strong one, either. She couldn’t manage everything, all the emotions and sadness and fears and hopes, for herself and Eleanor, too. She just needed to keep treading water, and the whole world would keep spinning. At least for another round of sunsets.
“He was over here last week, with the girls. Sunday dinner. Susan wasn’t feeling well, so she stayed home. We had a roast, watched some movies. A typical Sunday afternoon.”
“And?” Sam prompted. “Come on, Eleanor. What aren’t you telling me?”
Eleanor chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, then stood and went to the far side of the kitchen. She opened a drawer. Sam could see it was the junk drawer. Everyone had them. She immediately thought about what was in hers: batteries, scissors, take-out menus, twisty ties, pliers. A small pink barrette.
Nausea roiled in her stomach, she tamped it down.Stop it, Sam. Now isn’t the time.
Eleanor crossed the kitchen and handed Sam a folded piece of paper.
“You’re right. There is more. This is why I wanted you here, Sam. I just remembered it yesterday. Right before I called. I’d put it in the drawer and with everything that happened…”
Sam took the proffered note. The paper was simple, thin, torn from a spiral-bound notebook, folded in thirds.
Sam unfolded the note carefully. On it were four words, written in all caps:
DO THE RIGHT THING
Chapter Eight
Georgetown
Dr. Samantha Owens
Evidence. This was evidence. They shouldn’t be touching this. This was an open threat.
“Eleanor, do you have gloves?”
