Category: Mystery

The cinema of my dreams – I always wanted to go on a treasure hunt – Episode 85

Here’s the thing…

Every time I close my eyes, I see something different.

I’d like to think the cinema of my dreams is playing a double feature but it’s a bit like a comedy cartoon night on Fox.

But these dreams are nothing to laugh about.

Once again there’s a new installment of an old feature, and we’re back on the treasure hunt.

…

Two captives

…

Inside the mall looked totally different, they had cleaned out the whole inside and all that was left was the pylons holding the roof, and the floor above, up.  It was clear from the front to the back or would be if there was enough daylight.

There were explosives tied to each of the pylons, and wires running along the roof everywhere, resembling a spider’s Web.

They were going to bring the whole mall down in one go.  I’d seen similar demolitions on TV, but this one would be more manageable, being only two floors, at most.

“The demolition was stopped only an hour before they were going to push the button.  The control panel is still in place, ready to be detonated remotely.  All it needs is power.”

Nadia seemed to know a lot about it.

“We’re not here for nostalgia are we?”

“Could be.  I’d tell you my most predominant memory of this place but it would probably make you mad, so I won’t.  It’s probably the one thing I’d like to forget, but as a first, you tend not to.  What about you?”

“In this place, nothing.  It was just a mall, and not the best I’d been to.  Boggs and I used to come here and sit by the pool, and drink beer out of Thermos flasks.  It’s about the worst we could do.”

“You probably thought that was being badass at the time.”

We did, but we were young and stupid.  Others were more daring but always seemed to get caught by the mall cops, who had a fearsome reputation when handing out punishment.

We crossed the floor to the center fountain, and then took the stairs down to the carpark, then headed towards the ocean end, stopping at a wire fence that separated the customer park from the staff carpark. 

There was a lock on the gate, and I thought it was odd, given the rest of the building had all the walls removed.  The chain and lock were new, so it had been put there by the demolition team.  A minute later 8 could see the reason, they still had demolition equipment stored there, along with poles of recovered materials they were obviously going to take away.

Behind that was a shipping container which was obviously where more valuable stuff was stored. She also had a key to the lock, removed it, and swung the door open.

I pointed the flashlight inside and when it reached the end I could see two people tied up and lying on the floor.

If I was to guess…

“I told Alex to run.  Obviously, he didn’t listen.”

“He didn’t.”

She didn’t deny the identity of one, and I think I could guess who the other person was.  Vince.

“You think this is a wise course of action, considering who the parents are?”

“Don’t care, Sam.  I told my father what he did, and he told me I should have minded my own business.  I said there would be consequences and he laughed.”

I suspect he didn’t realize just how annoyed his daughter was at being treated like she was irrelevant.  I felt the same, but I couldn’t take it to the level she had.

“What do you intend to do with them?”

“Nothing.  I have some questions, maybe we’ll get some answers, but when we’re done, we’re leaving.  If the demolition people get here in time, they’ll be rescued.  If they don’t, they’ll have plenty of time to reflect on what they did.  I’m not going to harm them in any way, Sam.  Once, I might have, but I want to be better than that.”

One of the forms moved, groaned, and then began to struggle, suddenly realizing they were tied up.  It didn’t last long, once he realized trying to escape was futile.

The other form also woke, did the same then stopped soon after.

Nadia went in and leaned over each one, ripping off their gags.

It took a moment before both realized who was in the container with them.

Vince spoke first, “What the hell are you doing, Nadia.  Untie us now and we might just let you walk away.  There’ll be hell to pay if father finds out what you’ve done “

She walked back a few steps, collected a chair, went back, and sat down, just out of reach.  They were not only restrained but also tied to the wall.

How did she manage to do it, and did she have help?  Not the time to ask.

“You tied me up and left me for dead, Vince.  I nearly died; Sam nearly died “

“It’s a shame you didn’t.  You went against a direct order.”

“That’s on you, Vince.”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you, because you’re nobody.”

“And yet here you are, trussed up like a Thanksgiving Turkey with your newest best friend forever, and both looking at a very bleak future.”

“Don’t be an ass, Nadia.  When father finds out what you’ve done, you’ll wish you had died in that cave.”

“He won’t.  You will have just disappeared like you do from time to time, only this time you won’t be coming back.  And when this place comes down, there’s not going to be much left to identify you.”

Alex had been lying quietly on the ground listening to the exchange between brother and sister.  As an outsider, he must have felt the discussion was going in the wrong direction.

“How much do you want, Nadia.”

“What makes you think I want anything?”

“Look at this realistically.  Between the two of us, you could walk away with a couple of million dollars.  You’ve had your revenge, we both get it, we didn’t think it through when we left you there, but it doesn’t have to end this way.”

He sounded very reasonable, and if I was a reasonable person, I might have believed him.  I’m sure he could be very persuasive when he wanted to be.

“You sound almost sincere, Alex.  What do you think Sam.”

“A couple of million dollars is a powerful argument, Nadia.  Worth considering.”

They hadn’t realized I was there, not till she spoke to me.  I wondered if she wanted me to be the voice of reason.

“It is, isn’t it.  We’re going to need money where we’re going.”

“I can make it happen,” Alex said.  “All you have to do is let us go, and I’ll transfer the funds the moment I get to the bank.  I promise.”

And there was the catch.  We had to let him go.  The moment he got away, the bank was the last place he’d go.

“You really do think girls are stupid, don’t you Alex?”

“No.  And not you, Nadia.  I made you a promise, and I keep my promises.”

“So do I Alex, and I promised Sam that I would make the pair of you suffer the consequences if we got free.  We did, and now it’s time to make good on it.  I don’t need your money Alex, not that you have any, so I’m not sure how you were going to pay me.  No.  Sam and I will be going away, and not coming back.  I’m not sure if I’ll remember to tell anyone where you are, but maybe Sam will remind me.”

“Or maybe he won’t,” I said.  “There’s a lot of years of school torment for you to atone for Alex.”

Vince had been watching and listening to the back-and-forth banter, but I don’t think he believed Alex could bargain their way out.  Perhaps he understood the grit Nadia showed, and perhaps, again, that might be a Cossatino trait

Whatever he was thinking, it was clear that they were not going to be set free, his sister was madder than he’ll with him, and Alex was only making a bad situation worse.

“You don’t want to do this Nadia.  You’ve had your revenge, and now it’s time to end this charade.  We both know you’re not going to kill me.  That’s not who you are.  You’ve always been soft on what needed to be done, and for once I’m glad that’s the case.  Go away, by all means, take Sam with you, but never show your face here again.  If you do, you know what will happen.”

At last, some truth.  Of course, Vince would not honor any promises made under duress, but what it told me, more than anything else, was that it wasn’t his idea to abandon us in the cave.  Neither Vince or Alex for that matter were leaders or thinkers.  Just blunt instruments, doing what they were told to do.

That meant Vince could make all the promises in the world because it was not him who decided our fate.

“I do,” she said.  “So, here’s the deal.  We’re going now.  I’ll wait until we’re out of the country and then I’ll tell our father where you are.  At least that way, you’ll know how we felt being left to die.  Think yourself lucky Vince I’m not the hardnosed batch I was supposed to be.”

“I’d make it sooner rather than later Nadia.”

“Sure.”

She stepped back, and closed the doors, leaving them in the dark.

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” I said after we headed back to the ground level and the exit.

“It depends.”

She didn’t say on what.

...

© Charles Heath 2020-2022

‘The Devil You Don’t’ – A beta reader’s view

It could be said that of all the women one could meet, whether contrived or by sheer luck, what are the odds it would turn out to be the woman who was being paid a very large sum to kill you.

John Pennington is a man who may be lucky in business, but not so lucky in love. He has just broken up with Phillipa Sternhaven, the woman he thought was the one, but relatives and circumstances, and perhaps because she was a ‘princess’, may also have contributed to the end result.

So, what do you do when you are heartbroken?

That is a story that slowly unfolds, from the first meeting with his nemesis on Lake Geneva, all the way to a hotel room in Sorrento, where he learns the shattering truth.

What should have been solace after disappointment, turns out to be something else entirely, and from that point, everything goes to hell in a handbasket.

He suddenly realizes his so-called friend Sebastian has not exactly told him the truth about a small job he asked him to do, the woman he is falling in love with is not quite who she says she is, and he is caught in the middle of a war between two men who consider people becoming collateral damage as part of their business.

The story paints the characters cleverly displaying all their flaws and weaknesses. The locations add to the story at times taking me back down memory lane, especially to Venice where, in those back streets I confess it’s not all that hard to get lost.

All in all a thoroughly entertaining story with, for once, a satisfying end.

…

Available on Amazon here: https://amzn.to/2Xyh1ow

…

An excerpt from “Sunday in New York”

Now available on Amazon at:  https://amzn.to/2H7ALs8

…

Williams’ Restaurant, East 65th Street, New York, Saturday, 8:00 p.m.

We met the Blaine’s at Williams’, a rather upmarket restaurant that the Blaine’s frequently visited, and had recommended.

Of course, during the taxi ride there, Alison reminded me that with my new job, we would be able to go to many more places like Williams’.  It was, at worst, more emotional blackmail, because as far as Alison was concerned, we were well on our way to posh restaurants, the Trump Tower Apartments, and the trappings of the ‘executive set’.

It would be a miracle if I didn’t strangle Elaine before the night was over.  It was she who had filled Alison’s head with all this stuff and nonsense.

Aside from the half frown half-smile, Alison was looking stunning.  It was months since she had last dressed up, and she was especially wearing the dress I’d bought her for our 5th anniversary that cost a month’s salary.  On her, it was worth it, and I would have paid more if I had to.  She had adored it, and me, for a week or so after.

For tonight, I think I was close to getting back on that pedestal.

She had the looks and figure to draw attention, the sort movie stars got on the red carpet, and when we walked into the restaurant, I swear there were at least five seconds silence, and many more gasps.

Even I had a sudden loss of breath earlier in the evening when she came out of the dressing room.  Once more I was reminded of how lucky I was that she had agreed to marry me.  Amid all those self-doubts, I couldn’t believe she had loved me when there were so many others ‘out there’ who were more appealing.

Elaine was out of her seat and came over just as the Head Waiter hovered into sight.  She personally escorted Alison to the table, allowing me to follow like the Queen’s consort, while she and Alison basked in the admiring glances of the other patrons.

More than once I heard the muted question, “Who is she?”

Jimmy stood, we shook hands, and then we sat together.  It was not the usual boy, girl, boy, girl seating arrangement.  Jimmy and I on one side and Elaine and Alison on the other.

The battle lines were drawn.

Jimmy was looking fashionable, with the permanent blade one beard, unkempt hair, and designer dinner suit that looked like he’d slept in it.  Alison insisted I wear a tuxedo, and I looked like the proverbial penguin or just a thinner version of Alfred Hitchcock.

The bow tie had been slightly crooked, but just before we stepped out she had straightened it.  And took the moment to look deeply into my soul.  It was one of those moments when words were not necessary.

Then it was gone.

I relived it briefly as I sat and she looked at me.  A penetrating look that told me to ‘behave’.

When we were settled, Elaine said, in that breathless, enthusiastic manner of hers when she was excited, “So, Harry, you are finally moving up.”  It was not a question, but a statement.

I was not sure what she meant by ‘finally’ but I accepted it with good grace.  Sometimes Elaine was prone to using figures of speech I didn’t understand.  I guessed she was talking about the new job.  “It was supposed to be a secret.”

She smiled widely.  “There are no secrets between Al and I, are there Al?”

I looked at ‘Al’ and saw a brief look of consternation.

I was not sure Alison liked the idea of being called Al.  I tried it once and was admonished.  But it was interesting her ‘best friend forever’ was allowed that distinction when I was not.  It was, perhaps, another indicator of how far I’d slipped in her estimation.

Perhaps, I thought, it was a necessary evil.  As I understood it, the Blaine’s were our mentors at the Trump Tower, because they didn’t just let ‘anyone’ in.  I didn’t ask if the Blaine’s thought we were just ‘anyone’ before I got the job offer.

And then there was that look between Alison and Elaine, quickly stolen before Alison realized I was looking at both of them.  I was out of my depth, in a place I didn’t belong, with people I didn’t understand.  And yet, apparently, Alison did.  I must have missed the memo.

“No,” Alison said softly, stealing a glance in my direction, “No secrets between friends.”

No secrets.  Her look conveyed something else entirely.

The waiter brought champagne, Krug, and poured glasses for each of us.  It was not the cheap stuff, and I was glad I brought a couple of thousand dollars with me.  We were going to need it.

Then, a toast.

To a new job and a new life.

“When did you decide?”  Elaine was effusive at the best of times, but with the champagne, it was worse.

Alison had a strange expression on her face.  It was obvious she had told Elaine it was a done deal, even before I’d made up my mind.  Perhaps she’d assumed I might be ‘refreshingly honest’ in front of Elaine, but it could also mean she didn’t really care what I might say or do.

Instead of consternation, she looked happy, and I realized it would be churlish, even silly if I made a scene.  I knew what I wanted to say.  I also knew that it would serve little purpose provoking Elaine, or upsetting Alison.  This was not the time or the place.  Alison had been looking forward to coming here, and I was not going to spoil it.

Instead, I said, smiling, “When I woke up this morning and found Alison missing.  If she had been there, I would not have noticed the water stain on the roof above our bed, and decide there and then how much I hated the place.” I used my reassuring smile, the one I used with the customers when all hell was breaking loose, and the forest fire was out of control.  “It’s the little things.  They all add up until one day …”  I shrugged.  “I guess that one day was today.”

I saw an incredulous look pass between Elaine and Alison, a non-verbal question; perhaps, is he for real?  Or; I told you he’d come around.

I had no idea the two were so close.

“How quaint,” Elaine said, which just about summed up her feelings towards me.  I think, at that moment, I lost some brownie points.  It was all I could come up with at short notice.

“Yes,” I added, with a little more emphasis than I wanted.  “Alison was off to get some study in with one of her friends.”

“Weren’t the two of you off to the Hamptons, a weekend with some friends?” Jimmy piped up, and immediately got the ‘shut up you fool’ look, that cut that line of conversation dead.  Someone forgot to feed Jimmy his lines.

It was followed by the condescending smile from Elaine, and “I need to powder my nose.  Care to join me, Al?”

A frown, then a forced smile for her new best friend.  “Yes.”

I watched them leave the table and head in the direction of the restroom, looking like they were in earnest conversation.  I thought ‘Al’ looked annoyed, but I could be wrong.

I had to say Jimmy looked more surprised than I did.

There was that odd moment of silence between us, Jimmy still smarting from his death stare, and for me, the Alison and Elaine show.  I was quite literally gob-smacked.

I drained my champagne glass gathering some courage and turned to him.  “By the way, we were going to have a weekend away, but this legal tutorial thing came up.  You know Alison is doing her law degree.”

He looked startled when he realized I had spoken.  He was looking intently at a woman several tables over from us, one who’d obviously forgotten some basic garments when getting dressed.  Or perhaps it was deliberate.  She’d definitely had some enhancements done.

He dragged his eyes back to me.  “Yes.  Elaine said something or other about it.  But I thought she said the tutor was out of town and it had been postponed until next week.  Perhaps I got it wrong.  I usually do.”

“Perhaps I’ve got it wrong.”  I shrugged, as the dark thoughts started swirling in my head again.  “This week or next, what does it matter?”

Of course, it mattered to me, and I digested what he said with a sinking heart.  It showed there was another problem between Alison and me; it was possible she was now telling me lies.  If what he said was true and I had no reason to doubt him, where was she going tomorrow morning, and had she really been with a friend studying today?

We poured some more champagne, had a drink, then he asked, “This promotion thing, what’s it worth?”

“Trouble, I suspect.  Definitely more money, but less time at home.”

“Oh,” raised eyebrows.  Obviously, the women had not talked about the job in front of him, or, at least, not all the details.  “You sure you want to do that?”

At last the voice of reason.  “Me?  No.”

“Yet you accepted the job.”

I sucked in a breath or two while I considered whether I could trust him.  Even if I couldn’t, I could see my ship was sinking, so it wouldn’t matter what I told him, or what Elaine might find out from him.  “Jimmy, between you and me I haven’t as yet decided one way or another.  To be honest, I won’t know until I go up to Barclay’s office and he asks me the question.”

“Barclay?”

“My boss.”

“Elaine’s doing a job for a Barclay that recently moved in the tower a block down from us.  I thought I recognized the name.”

“How did Elaine get the job?”

“Oh, Alison put him onto her.”

“When?”

“A couple of months ago.  Why?”

I shrugged and tried to keep a straight face, while my insides were churning up like the wake of a supertanker.  I felt sick, faint, and wanting to die all at the same moment.  “Perhaps she said something about it, but it didn’t connect at the time.  Too busy with work I expect.  I think I seriously need to get away for a while.”

I could hardly breathe, my throat was constricted and I knew I had to keep it together.  I could see Elaine and Alison coming back, so I had to calm down.  I sucked in some deep breaths, and put my ‘manage a complete and utter disaster’ look on my face.

And I had to change the subject, quickly, so I said, “Jimmy, Elaine told Alison, who told me, you were something of a guru of the cause and effects of the global economic meltdown.  Now, I have a couple of friends who have been expounding this theory …”

Like flicking a switch, I launched into the well-worn practice of ‘running a distraction’, like at work when we needed to keep the customer from discovering the truth.  It was one of the things I was good at, taking over a conversation and pushing it in a different direction.  It was salvaging a good result from an utter disaster, and if ever there was a time that it was required, it was right here, right now.

When Alison sat down and looked at me, she knew something had happened between Jimmy and I.  I might have looked pale or red-faced, or angry or disappointed, it didn’t matter.  If that didn’t seal the deal for her, the fact I took over the dining engagement did.  She knew well enough the only time I did that was when everything was about to go to hell in a handbasket.  She’d seen me in action before and had been suitably astonished.

But I got into gear, kept the champagne flowing and steered the conversation, as much as one could from a seasoned professional like Elaine, and, I think, in Jimmy’s eyes, he saw the battle lines and knew who took the crown on points.  Neither Elaine nor Jimmy suspected anything, and if the truth be told, I had improved my stocks with Elaine.  She was at times both surprised and interested, even willing to take a back seat.

Alison, on the other hand, tried poking around the edges, and, once when Elaine and Jimmy had got up to have a cigarette outside, questioned me directly.  I chose to ignore her, and pretend nothing had happened, instead of telling her how much I was enjoying the evening.

She had her ‘secrets’.  I had mine.

At the end of the evening, when I got up to go to the bathroom, I was physically sick from the pent up tension and the implications of what Jimmy had told me.  It took a while for me to pull myself together; so long, in fact, Jimmy came looking for me.  I told him I’d drunk too much champagne, and he seemed satisfied with that excuse.  When I returned, both Alison and Elaine noticed how pale I was but neither made any comment.

It was a sad way to end what was supposed to be a delightful evening, which to a large degree it was for the other three.  But I had achieved what I set out to do, and that was to play them at their own game, watching the deception, once I knew there was a deception, as warily as a cat watches its prey.

I had also discovered Jimmy’s real calling; a professor of economics at the same University Alison was doing her law degree.  It was no surprise in the end, on a night where surprises abounded, that the world could really be that small.

We parted in the early hours of the morning, a taxi whisking us back to the Lower East Side, another taking the Blaine’s back to the Upper West Side.  But, in our case, as Alison reminded me, it would not be for much longer.  She showed concern for my health, asked me what was wrong.  It took all the courage I could muster to tell her it was most likely something I ate and the champagne, and that I would be fine in the morning.

She could see quite plainly it was anything other than what I told her, but she didn’t pursue it.  Perhaps she just didn’t care what I was playing at.

And yet, after everything that had happened, once inside our ‘palace’, the events of the evening were discarded, like her clothing, and she again reminded me of what we had together in the early years before the problems had set in.

It left me confused and lost.

I couldn’t sleep because my mind had now gone down that irreversible path that told me I was losing her, that she had found someone else, and that our marriage was in its last death throes.

And now I knew it had something to do with Barclay.

© Charles Heath 2015-2020

Sunday In New York

Skeletons in the closet, and doppelgangers

A story called “Mistaken Identity”

…

How many of us have skeletons in the closet that we know nothing about? The skeletons we know about generally stay there, but those we do not, well, they have a habit of coming out of left field when we least expect it.

In this case, when you see your photo on a TV screen with the accompanying text that says you are wanted by every law enforcement agency in Europe, you’re in a state of shock, only to be compounded by those same police, armed and menacing, kicking the door down.

I’d been thinking about this premise for a while after I discovered my mother had a boyfriend before she married my father, a boyfriend who was, by all accounts, the man who was the love of her life.

Then, in terms of coming up with an idea for a story, what if she had a child by him that we didn’t know about, which might mean I had a half brother or sister I knew nothing about. It’s not an uncommon occurrence from what I’ve been researching.

There are many ways of putting a spin on this story.

Then, in the back of my mind, I remembered a story an acquaintance at work was once telling us over morning tea, that a friend of a friend had a mother who had a twin sister and that each of the sisters had a son by the same father, without each knowing of the father’s actions, both growing up without the other having any knowledge of their half brother, only to meet by accident on the other side of the world.

It was an encounter that in the scheme of things might never have happened, and each would have remained oblivious of the other.

For one sister, the relationship was over before she discovered she was pregnant, and therefore had not told the man he was a father. It was no surprise the relationship foundered when she discovered he was also having a relationship with her sister, a discovery that caused her to cut all ties with both of them and never speak to either from that day.

It’s a story with more twists and turns than a country lane!

And a great idea for a story.

That story is called ‘Mistaken Identity’.

The refinement of an old idea

I write about spies, washed out, worn out, or thrown out.

It’s always in the back of my mind, sometimes fuelled by a piece in the paper that has a sense of conspiracy about it, and from there, an idea starts turning into words that need to find their way to paper.

Then, if that’s the extent of the first draft, sometimes it goes into the ‘I will come back to this later’ folder and, sometimes, it’s gone and forgotten.

Until I wake up suddenly in the middle of the night, an old story with a new idea fills my head, and I must get it down.

Then, it will bother me over the next few days, until I give it the attention it’s calling out for.  This will often lead to more writing, but planning will lead to a synopsis.

The first sentence of a novel is always the hardest. Like I guess many others, I sit and ponder what I’m going to write, whether it will be relevant, whether it will pull the reader into my world, and cause them to read on.

And that’s the objective, to capture the reader’s imagination and want to see what’s going to happen next.

The problem is, we have to set the scene.

Or do we?

Do we need to cover the who, what, where, and when criteria in that first sentence? Can we just start with the edge-of-the-seat suspense, like,

…

The first bullet hit the concrete wall about six inches above my head with a resounding thwack that scared the living daylights out of me. The second, sent on its way within a fraction of a second of the first found its mark, the edge of my shoulder, slicing through the material, and creasing skin and flesh. There was blood and then panic.

Milliseconds later my brain registered the near-miss and sent the instruction: get down you idiot.

I hit the ground just as another bullet slammed into the concrete where my head had just been.

…

It can use some more work, fewer commas, and perhaps shorter, sharper sentences to convey the urgency and danger.

Perhaps we could paint a picture of the main character.

He tentatively has the name Jackson Galsworthy. He has always aspired to be a ‘secret agent’ or ‘spy’ and but through luck more than anything else, he was given his opportunity. The problem is he failed his first test and failure means washing out of the program.

What had ‘they’ said? When the shit hits the fan, you need to be calm, cool, and collected. He’d been anything but.

Maybe we’ll flesh the character out as we go along.

OK, I just had another thought for an opening,

…

Light snow was still falling, past the stage where each flake dissolved as it hit the ground, and now starting to gather in white patches.

It was cold, very cold, and even with the three layers I still shivered.

What surprised me was the silence, but, of course, it was a graveyard beside an ancient church, and everyone who had attended the funeral service had left.

It was a short service for the few that came, and a shorter burial. No one seemed keen to hang around, not with the evening darkness and the snow setting in.

I stood, not far from the filled grave looking at it, but not looking at it. Was I expecting it’s occupant to rise again? Was I expecting forgiveness? I certainly didn’t deserve it.

The truth is, I was responsible for this person’s death, making a mistake a more seasoned professional might not, and the reason why I was shown the door. I had been given very simple instructions; protect this man at all costs.

It was going to be a simple extraction, go in, get the target, and get out before anyone noticed.

A pity that I was the only one who got that memo.

…

It’s a start, but with the TV going on in the background, Chester complaining about something, and the weeds in the yard getting higher, there’s too much else going to consider this even a start.

It’s an idea.  Perhaps I can expand on it later.

…

© Charles Heath 2020-2024

“Trouble in Store” – Short Stories My Way:  The re-write – Part 7

Now that I’ve gone through the story and made quite a few changes, it’s time to look at the story

…

Jack exchanged a look with the shopkeeper, who in return gave him a slight shrug as if to say he ‘we tried and failed’.

And she was clearly scared of something, and it looked to him like it might be the shopkeeper.  He had no idea what happened before he burst into the shop, but from the tenseness in the air, it had nothing to do with the boy on the floor.

He could see the girl was not strung out on drugs, in fact, she did not like a user at all.  If she had been, Jack was positive they’d both be on the floor, dead, or almost dead.

Another rumour just came back to him, this was apparently not the first time the store had been robbed, but by the time the police arrived, the would-be robbers were gone.

What was different this time?

Was it the fact the girl was just the unfortunate partner of a boy who was on drugs and had found herself in a dangerous position, one that couldn’t be dealt with or explained away to the advantage of the shopkeeper?

Beth, his wife, had told him she didn’t like nor trust the shopkeeper and that her friend in the same apartment block had told her he had been seen selling drugs to youths who hung around just before he closed.  She had warned him it would not be safe, but he had ignored her.

It was a bit late to tell her she might be right.

He took a half step towards the door, judging the distance and time it would take to open the door and get out.

Too far, and he would be too slow, and his reward for running would be a bullet in the back.

Perhaps another half step when she wasn’t looking.

…

© Charles Heath 2016-2024

The cinema of my dreams – I always wanted to go on a treasure hunt – Episode 84

Here’s the thing…

Every time I close my eyes, I see something different.

I’d like to think the cinema of my dreams is playing a double feature but it’s a bit like a comedy cartoon night on Fox.

But these dreams are nothing to laugh about.

Once again there’s a new installment of an old feature, and we’re back on the treasure hunt.

…

Nadia reappears

…

There was no fanfare when I walked out of the hospital lobby and out into the cool afternoon.  After the heat, we were due some rain, and looking up to the sky, it was imminent.

I hadn’t organized a ride and was hoping to get a taxi.  It was probably the wrong time of the day.  Standing in the curb, I noticed a black SUV pulling into the drive-through, distinguishable by the reflective windows.  FBI or the state’s equivalent?

It stopped in front of me, and I stepped back, expecting a couple of Feds to get out.  Instead, the passenger door window opened and I could see a woman at the wheels.

When she turned to look at me, I recognized the face instantly.  Nadia.

“Get in.”

No hello, how are you, beg your pardon.

I climbed in, and we were moving almost before I shut the door.  The forward momentum did that.

“Is there a reason for this cloak and dagger approach?  It’s good to see you, and all that, by the way.”

“I’m trying to keep under the radar.  The sheriff seems to think I know more than I told them, which was nothing.  I hope you did the same.”

“What would be the point?  Alex and your brother took control of the narrative, days before we were found.”

“They did.  Deceitful lying little…”

It was clear that just talking about them made her extremely angry, so I figured I should change the subject.

“When are you going back to Italy?”

It didn’t take long to realize she was heading towards The Grove, and we were not far from the Mall.  I wondered if there was still a hold on the demolition.

“Soon.  I have a few jobs to attend to before then.”

I was going to ask what jobs, but then decided I was better off not knowing.

“How did you know I was leaving the hospital?”

“I called, pretending to be your mother.  She seems to spend a lot of time with Benderby.”

A sidelong glance at the girl I hardly knew, to say it was odd that she was interested in what my mother was doing was an understatement.  I thought I had some understanding of the girl I’d come to like a lit more than I should, but now I wasn’t so sure.

“Does it matter?”

“You can see what Benderby is doing, can’t you?”

“Take me out of the equation, of course.  Shiny new promotion and all, at work.  She’s going to be disappointed all round I guess when I leave town.”

“You thought about going to Italy with me?”

“Anywhere but here.  I don’t think Boggs’s death has sunk in yet.  Mad as he might have been he didn’t deserve what he got.”

“You don’t believe he slipped and fell?”

“Nor does Charlene.”

“Charlene is naive.”

Charlene still believed the world wasn’t a corrupt place, and that the law was the same for everyone.  The job was going to destroy her in the end.

“Or she might just find a way to bring Alex and Vince down, that is if you still think Vince needs to be taught the error of his ways.  I didn’t think he would have the temerity to attach his own sister.”

“Neither did I, but my suspicion there was something wrong with him mentally was right.  He crossed a line, Sam, and in my book, you cried that line, you don’t come back.”

Instead of heading straight on, where I thought she was heading for her beachside shack, we took the side road to the mall and the rear carpark.

The whole site was abandoned now, with the demolition halted.  Even the security guards had abandoned the place, their demountable office closed, and in darkness.

She parked the car some distance from the side door we used on our last visit, behind the overgrown tree line that separated the staff carpark from the customer’s.  The question was, what were we doing there.

As they say, the silence was deafening.

I didn’t know what to think.  After everything that happened in such a short space of time, my head was still reeling. 

I guess I should have been pleased that I worked put where the treasure once was and that we had solved the mysterious disappearances of Boggs senior and Ormiston.  I wanted to tell the respective families, but given the threat of both Alex and Vince, and no doubt Benderby himself, made it difficult.

There was also the possibility no one would believe me since the evidence had been removed.

And there was no doubt the near-death experience had crystallized my desire to change my life, and definitely get away from this place which now seemed more like a prison than a home.

Then, there was Nadia. 

I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams actually being in the same room as Nadia, let alone stealing a kiss.  Just a touch of hands had the effect of sending an electric charge through me, and the thought of doing anything else almost made me weak at the knees.

I wondered if she had any idea of the effect she had on me. 

A stolen glance showed her sitting relaxed, eyes closed, the hint of a smile on her face.  What was she thinking?

A few seconds later I felt her hand touch mine, and it was like getting an electric shock.  Almost instinctively our fingers intertwined.  She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at me.

“I had a lot of time, back in the cave, to think about stuff I never really thought about before.  You think you have all the time in the world, but the truth is, you don’t.  Everything can be taken away from you in an instant, and all those things you said you’d do one day, never happen.”

“All part of the near-death experience.  It got me thinking too.  Everything I was going to do, one day.  And for a little while there, I honestly believed I’d wasted my whole life.”

“It’s funny, or rather not funny, what you think was important, and really isn’t.  We shared something nearly everyone else won’t or could, Sam.”

She held up her hand in mine.  “Like this.  A month ago, this would not have happened, you and I, not a possibility.  I was too wrapped up in who and what I was, that overdose of self-importance and ego, when the reality was I am nothing more than just another speck on the landscape.”

“You’re more than that, Nadia.”

“To you, yes.  To everyone else, no.  I was brought up to believe the family was everything, but, in the end, it counted for nothing.”  She sighed.  “To them, I’ll be nothing but a girl.  I can’t tell how disappointed I was, or repeat what I said to my father, or that which I now refuse to call my mother.”

I wondered what I could say that would make her feel better, but there was nothing in my word armory.

“If it’s any consolation, I want to go to Italy with you, and explore the possibilities.”

She smiled.  “Summers are magic, you wake up, the early morning sun caressing warmth on your body, the tactile feel of the person lying next to you.  It’s hard not to imagine those feelings coursing through you.”

Did that mean she had a boyfriend back in Italy?  My have must have expressed my thoughts.

“You are the one in my thoughts, Sam.  It’s you there beside me and has been since getting out of the cave.  I know you feel the same about me.”

My heart missed a beat, or three.  I could see us there, together, bodies entwined.

“Now hold that thought.  We have one last job to do, and I think you’ll appreciate it.”

I hadn’t realized I’d stopped breathing and let out a long breath.  If it were up to me, I’d be on the next plane to Rome.

Instead, it looked like we were going to make a final visit to the mall.

…

© Charles Heath 2020-2022

Another excerpt from “Strangers We’ve Become” – A sequel to ‘What Sets Us Apart’

…

It was the first time in almost a week that I made the short walk to the cafe alone.  It was early, and the chill of the morning was still in the air.  In summer, it was the best time of the day.  When Susan came with me, it was usually much later, when the day was much warmer and less tolerable.

On the morning of the third day of her visit, Susan said she was missing the hustle and bustle of London, and by the end of the fourth she said, in not so many words, she was over being away from ‘civilisation’.  This was a side of her I had not seen before, and it surprised me.

She hadn’t complained, but it was making her irritable.  The Susan that morning was vastly different to the Susan on the first day.  So much, I thought, for her wanting to ‘reconnect’, the word she had used as the reason for coming to Greve unannounced.

It was also the first morning I had time to reflect on her visit and what my feelings were towards her.  It was the reason I’d come to Greve: to soak up the peace and quiet and think about what I was going to do with the rest of my life.

I sat in my usual corner.  Maria, one of two waitresses, came out, stopped, and there was no mistaking the relief in her manner.  There was an air of tension between Susan and Maria I didn’t understand, and it seemed to emanate from Susan rather than the other way around.  I could understand her attitude if it was towards Alisha, but not Maria.  All she did was serve coffee and cake.

When Maria recovered from the momentary surprise, she said, smiling, “You are by yourself?”  She gave a quick glance in the direction of my villa, just to be sure.

“I am this morning.  I’m afraid the heat, for one who is not used to it, can be quite debilitating.  I’m also afraid it has had a bad effect on her manners, for which I apologise.  I cannot explain why she has been so rude to you.”

“You do not have to apologise for her, David, but it is of no consequence to me.  I have had a lot worse.  I think she is simply jealous.”

It had crossed my mind, but there was no reason for her to be.  “Why?”

“She is a woman, I am a woman, she thinks because you and I are friends, there is something between us.”

It made sense, even if it was not true.  “Perhaps if I explained…”

Maria shook her head.  “If there is a hole in the boat, you should not keep bailing but try to plug the hole.  My grandfather had many expressions, David.  If I may give you one piece of advice, as much as it is none of my business, you need to make your feelings known, and if they are not as they once were, and I think they are not, you need to tell her.  Before she goes home.”

Interesting advice.  Not only a purveyor of excellent coffee, but Maria was also a psychiatrist who had astutely worked out my dilemma.  What was that expression, ‘not just a pretty face’?

“Is she leaving soon?” I asked, thinking Maria knew more about Susan’s movements than I did.

“You would disappoint me if you had not suspected as much.  Susan was having coffee and talking to someone in her office on a cell phone.  It was an intense conversation.  I should not eavesdrop, but she said being here was like being stuck in hell.  It is a pity she does not share your love for our little piece of paradise, is it not?”

“It is indeed.  And you’re right.  She said she didn’t have a phone, but I know she has one.  She just doesn’t value the idea of getting away from the office.  Perhaps her role doesn’t afford her that luxury.”

And perhaps Alisha was right about Maria, that I should be more careful.  She had liked Maria the moment she saw her.  We had sat at this very table, the first day I arrived.  I would have travelled alone, but Prendergast, my old boss, liked to know where ex-employees of the Department were, and what they were doing.

She sighed.  “I am glad I am just a waitress.  Your usual coffee and cake?”

“Yes, please.”

Several months had passed since we had rescued Susan from her despotic father; she had recovered faster than we had thought, and settled into her role as the new Lady Featherington, though she preferred not to use that title, but go by the name of Lady Susan Cheney.

I didn’t get to be a Lord, or have any title, not that I was expecting one.  What I had expected was that Susan, once she found her footing as head of what seemed to be a commercial empire, would not have time for details like husbands, particularly when our agreement made before the wedding gave either of us the right to end it.

There was a moment when I visited her recovering in the hospital, where I was going to give her the out, but I didn’t, and she had not invoked it.  We were still married, just not living together.

This visit was one where she wanted to ‘reconnect’ as she called it, and invite me to come home with her.  She saw no reason why we could not resume our relationship, conveniently forgetting she indirectly had me arrested for her murder, charges both her mother and Lucy vigorously pursued, and had the clone not returned to save me, I might still be in jail.

It was not something I would forgive or forget any time soon.

There were other reasons why I was reluctant to stay with her, like forgetting small details, an irregularity in her character I found odd.  She looked the same, she sounded the same, she basically acted the same, but my mind was telling me something was not right.  It was not the Susan I first met, even allowing for the ordeal she had been subjected to.

But, despite those misgivings, there was no question in my mind that I still loved her, and her clandestine arrival had brought back all those feelings.  But as the days passed, I began to get the impression my feelings were one-sided and she was just going through the motions.

Which brought me to the last argument, earlier, where I said if I went with her, it would be business meetings, social obligations, and quite simply her ‘celebrity’ status that would keep us apart.  I reminded her that I had said from the outset I didn’t like the idea of being in the spotlight, and when I reiterated it, she simply brushed it off as just part of the job, adding rather strangely that I always looked good in a suit.  The flippancy of that comment was the last straw, and I left before I said something I would regret.

I knew I was not a priority.  Maybe somewhere inside me, I had wanted to be a priority, and I was disappointed when I was not.

And finally, there was Alisha.  Susan, at the height of the argument, had intimated she believed I had an affair with her, but that elephant was always in the room whenever Alisha was around.  It was no surprise when I learned Susan had asked Prendergast to reassign her to other duties. 

At least I knew what my feelings for Alisha were, and there were times when I had to remember she was persona non grata.  Perhaps that was why Susan had her banished, but, again, a small detail; jealousy was not one of Susan’s traits when I first knew her.

Perhaps it was time to set Susan free.

When I swung around to look in the direction of the lane where my villa was, I saw Susan.  She was formally dressed, not in her ‘tourist’ clothes, which she had bought from one of the local clothing stores.  We had fun that day, shopping for clothes, a chore I’d always hated.  It had been followed by a leisurely lunch, lots of wine and soul searching.

It was the reason why I sat in this corner; old habits die hard.  I could see trouble coming from all directions, not that Susan was trouble or at least I hoped not, but it allowed me the time to watch her walking towards the cafe in what appeared to be short, angry steps; perhaps the culmination of the heat wave and our last argument.

She glared at me as she sat, dropping her bag beside her on the ground, where I could see the cell phone sitting on top.  She followed my glance down, and then she looked unrepentant back at me.

Maria came back at the exact moment she was going to speak.  I noticed Maria hesitate for a second when she saw Susan, then put her smile in place to deliver my coffee.

Neither spoke nor looked at each other.  I said, “Susan will have what I’m having, thanks.”

Maria nodded and left.

“Now,” I said, leaning back in my seat, “I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation as to why you didn’t tell me about the phone, but that first time you disappeared, I’d guessed you needed to keep in touch with your business interests.  I thought it somewhat unwisethat you should come out when the board of one of your companies was trying to remove you, because of what was it, an unexplained absence?  All you had to do was tell me there were problems and you needed to remain at home to resolve them.”

My comment elicited a sideways look, with a touch of surprise.

“It was unfortunate timing on their behalf, and I didn’t want you to think everything else was more important than us.  There were issues before I came, and I thought the people at home would be able to manage without me for at least a week, but I was wrong.”

“Why come at all.  A phone call would have sufficed.”

“I had to see you, talk to you.  At least we have had a chance to do that.  I’m sorry about yesterday.  I once told you I would not become my mother, but I’m afraid I sounded just like her.  I misjudged just how much this role would affect me, and truly, I’m sorry.”

An apology was the last thing I expected.

“You have a lot of work to do catching up after being away, and of course, in replacing your mother and gaining the requisite respect as the new Lady Featherington.  I think it would be for the best if I were not another distraction.  We have plenty of time to reacquaint ourselves when you get past all these teething issues.”

“You’re not coming with me?”  She sounded disappointed.

“I think it would be for the best if I didn’t.”

“Why?”

“It should come as no surprise to you that I’ve been keeping an eye on your progress.  You are so much better doing your job without me.  I told your mother once that when the time came I would not like the responsibilities of being your husband.  Now that I have seen what it could possibly entail, I like it even less.  You might also want to reconsider our arrangement, after all, we only had a marriage of convenience, and now that those obligations have been fulfilled, we both have the option of terminating it.  I won’t make things difficult for you if that’s what you want.”

It was yet another anomaly, I thought; she should look distressed, and I would raise the matter of that arrangement.  Perhaps she had forgotten the finer points.  I, on the other hand, had always known we would not last forever.  The perplexed expression, to me, was a sign she might have forgotten.

Then, her expression changed.  “Is that what you want?”

“I wasn’t madly in love with you when we made that arrangement, so it was easy to agree to your terms, but inexplicably, since then, my feelings for you changed, and I would be sad if we parted ways.  But the truth is, I can’t see how this is going to work.”

“In saying that, do you think I don’t care for you?”

That was exactly what I was thinking, but I wasn’t going to voice that opinion out loud.  “You spent a lot of time finding new ways to make my life miserable, Susan.  You and that wretched friend of yours, Lucy.  While your attitude improved after we were married, that was because you were going to use me when you went to see your father, and then almost let me go to prison for your murder.”

“I had nothing to do with that, other than to leave, and I didn’t agree with Lucy that you should be made responsible for my disappearance.  I cannot be held responsible for the actions of my mother.  She hated you; Lucy didn’t understand you, and Millie told me I was stupid for not loving you in return, and she was right.  Why do you think I gave you such a hard time?  You made it impossible not to fall in love with you, and it nearly changed my mind about everything I’d been planning so meticulously.  But perhaps there was a more subliminal reason why I did because after I left, I wanted to believe, if anything went wrong, you would come and find me.”

“How could you possibly know that I’d even consider doing something like that, given what you knew about me?”

“Prendergast made a passing comment when my mother asked him about you; he told us you were very good at finding people and even better at fixing problems.”

“And yet here we are, one argument away from ending it.”

I could see Maria hovering, waiting for the right moment to deliver her coffee, then go back and find Gianna, the café owner, instead.  Gianna was more abrupt and, for that reason, was rarely seen serving the customers.  Today, she was particularly cantankerous, banging the cake dish on the table and frowning at Susan before returning to her kitchen.  Gianna didn’t like Susan either.

Behind me, I heard a car stop, and when she looked up, I knew it was for her.  She had arrived with nothing, and she was leaving with nothing.

She stood.  “Last chance.”

“Forever?”

She hesitated and then shook away the look of annoyance on her face.  “Of course not.  I wanted you to come back with me so we could continue working on our relationship.  I agree there are problems, but it’s nothing we can’t resolve if we try.”

I had been trying.  “It’s too soon for both of us, Susan.  I need to be able to trust you, and given the circumstances, and all that water under the bridge, I’m not sure if I can yet.”

She frowned at me.  “As you wish.”  She took an envelope out of her bag and put it on the table.  “When you are ready, it’s an open ticket home.  Please make it sooner rather than later.  Despite what you think of me, I have missed you, and I have no intention of ending it between us.”

That said, she glared at me for a minute, shook her head, then walked to the car.  I watched her get in and the car drive slowly away.

No kiss, no touch, no looking back. 

…

© Charles Heath 2018-2025

strangerscover9

“Trouble in Store” – Short Stories My Way:  The re-write – Part 6

Now that I’ve gone through the story and made quite a few changes, it’s time to look at the story

…

It had been another long day at the office for Officer Margaret O’Donnell, or, out in the streets, coping with people who either didn’t know or didn’t care about the law.

People who couldn’t cross the road where there were crossings and lights to protect them, silly girls shoplifting on a dare, and boys who thought they were men and could walk on water.

The one they scraped off the road would never get to grow up, and his mother, well, she was not doing another call on a family to give them bad news for a while.  Someone else could deal with the problem next time.

That was her day.

So far.

At the end of the day, she was glad to be getting home, putting her feet up, and forgetting about everything until the next morning when it would start all over again.

Coming around that last corner, the home stretch she called it, she was directly opposite the corner shop, usually closed at this hour of the night.

It was not.  The lights were still on.

She looked at her watch and saw it was ten minutes to midnight and long past closing time.  She looked through the window, but from the other side of the street, she could only see three heads and little else.

Damn, she thought, I’m going to have to check it out.

She was aware of the rumours, from her co-residents and also her colleagues down at the station, rumours she hoped were not true.

…

© Charles Heath 2016-2024

The cinema of my dreams – It’s a treasure hunt – Episode 83

Here’s the thing…

Every time I close my eyes, I see something different.

I’d like to think the cinema of my dreams is playing a double feature but it’s a bit like a comedy cartoon night on Fox.

But these dreams are nothing to laugh about.

Once again there’s a new installment of an old feature, and we’re back on the treasure hunt.

…

I’m leaving town and not looking back

…

Three days later, after Nadia had disappeared, I was cleared to leave the hospital, almost fully restored.

It had been a strange three days, time enough to consider what happened to Nadia, and in the end, I had to conclude that she needed to get away from everyone and everything.

I wanted to believe she was back in Italy; among people she could trust.  That notion of living a simple life in the vineyard that she proposed was now more appealing than going back to my old life working for the Benderby’s.  There was no doubt in my mind that I would never be going back to that warehouse, or anything else to do with the Benderby’s.

Three days to finally come to the painful conclusion that I had done nothing with my life, and staying in town, it would just be more of the same, only lonelier now that Boggs had gone.  Not even the prospect of seeing Nadia made it any better, not that she was going to stay longer than she had to.

Boggs’s mother finally came to visit me, and, when I saw her, I had the awful feeling she was going to blame me.  Perhaps I had already blamed myself because it was me who took him there, and if I had not, he would still be alive.

Nor did I believe he died in a fall, he was too good a climber for that to happen.  Alex or Vince must have found him and silenced him the only way they knew.  He hadn’t deserved that, but, then, neither had we, but I guess when you try to keep a secret, it was the only way to ensure silence.

I knew the secret, and it was a question of how long I would survive before I was next on the list. Alex would never believe I could keep it to myself, and I had been safe in the hospital, but now I was leaving, it was only a matter of time before he made a move.

That gave me the impetus to make a decision that was in my best interests, to leave and never come back.  That meant leaving my mother too, as hard as it would be, and for reasons she would never understand.

I told her that the day before.

She visited twice a day, and each time I tried to find the courage to tell her of my decision, and each time it was not possible.  She was too happy that I was alive and making plans for the future, coming to the conclusion that life was too short, and putting things off until another day might mean they may never happen.

It was the same conclusion I’d come to, but with different ideas as to what it was I should not put off.

It took until the day before my discharge and made easier with her news of a proposal from Benderby.  Both had been cool to the idea of taking their relationship to the next level, but now it seemed he had a change of heart.

My devious mind found another reason, and it was not because he cared about her.  It was more to do with silencing me, and her, putting us under his ‘protection’.  It told me he knew about his son’s involvement, and it would be interesting to see what he did about Alex.  My guess: nothing.

And was it wrong of me to hope Nadia would drive a stake into Alex’s heart?

She had just finished telling me about the second piece of news, my promotion, being in charge of the warehouse, rather than just being a clerk, a job I suspected normal people would have to wait years to attain.  It cemented my suspicions of his motive.

“That’s Alex’s domain,” I said.  “What’s he going to do?  The last thing I need is him being resentful.”

“He’s going to be your stepbrother, Sam, and we’re hoping the two of you will play nice.”

“Did Alex get the memo?”

“It doesn’t sound to me like he will be the problem “

It was a recipe for disaster.  And surprising that she should take Benderby’s side.  My mother seemed to have forgotten all those years of angst at school, and the fact Alex was little better than a bully.  I guess, after the years of struggling after my father left us, she had to look out for herself. 

It was my cue.

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore.  I can look after myself.”

“I have no doubt you can.  But you have to get along with others, Sam.”

“I will.  But it won’t be here.  When they finally let me go, I’m leaving town.  There are just too many bad memories here now.”

I thought, while she was still wrapped up in the romance with Benderby, she’d just nod and move on.

Wrong.

She was genuinely upset with my decision.  “Are you leaving with that dreadful girl?”

“She is not a dreadful girl.  If that’s what Benderby is saying, he’s wrong.  I got to know her, those days in the cave when hope was fading.  That’s where you find the real person.  But, no, I’m not.  I don’t know where she is.  I’m disappointed, but not surprised.  By the way, Alex treated her very badly when she was his girlfriend, and back in school.”

“She would say that being a Cossatino.”

“And I’m sure the Benderby’s have nothing nice to say about them.  Irrespective of the Benderby’s and the Cossatino’s hatred for each other, they are more the reason to leave rather than stay.  But, more importantly, when time was running out in that cave, I realized all the things I hadn’t done, and why.   I’ve wasted opportunities and years of my life and lost a very good friend, who, if I’m to be judged one day, let down terribly.  That alone makes it impossible to stay here.”

“There’s a lot of good you can do here, Sam.  And all of the Boggs spent too much of their time going after that non-existent pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  You can’t feel sorry for them, father and son alike.”

Given what I knew, her admission was probably parroting the same sentiments as everyone else, and it was a fruitless search only in the fact that the treasure had been removed.  I had no doubt it had been there once and moved, or discovered many years before.  Boggs’s father had found the resting place and would have found the treasure.  Ormiston had too.  But would I tell anyone the truth, probably not?

But when I should have let it go, I didn’t.  “There’s so much you don’t know, that no one knows and probably never will.  You are entitled to your own opinion, I’m entitled to mine, and we’ll agree to disagree.  All the more reason to leave, because all it’s going to do is upset me every time someone mentions Boggs or the treasure.”

She stood.  I could see her ‘I don’t want to hear this’ face, and knew she’d long stopped listening to me.  As far as she was concerned, I would come around in the end.  There was no point arguing, I was just going to leave and worry about the consequences later.

…

© Charles Heath 2020-2022