Blowing Smoke by George L. Hiegel - HTML preview

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Chapter Fourteen:

It was just a little past 7 a.m. Monday morning and I was slumped over on the living room floor. I was nursing the second of five cups of coffee. I pulled at the comforter that had somehow slid off my right shoulder. Despite the coffee and comforter, I was cold. Gina came out of the tv room looking fully alive and freshly pressed. People who can jump right out of bed and into complete consciousness annoy the hell out of me. I envy them too, the little guttersnipe bastards.

“You need to shave,” Gina said.

“You need to ------,” I replied then stopped before I finished the sentence.

“I need to what?”

“Nothing. It’s just that you could’ve come out and said something more decent like: ‘Morning. How did you sleep?’. But I don’t know why I expected anything different from you. Talking to you is the same as beating a horse to death that’s already dead.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Well, then it fits in perfectly with everything else that’s going on, doesn’t it?”

No comment from Gina.

“Are you going to the reading of the will,” she asked.

“No. Are you?”

“No.”

“Can I ask why?”

“No. Can I ask why you’re not going.”

“It won’t help our case. Besides, I thought you’d be going and you’d give me all the details.”

I needed more caffeine, but I didn’t have the energy to get up and go to the kitchen. Wasn‘t there some imaginative person out there who could invent I.V. drips for coffee? Wasn’t there? I don’t think that’s asking too much, is it? So, it’s not a necessity. So what? What’s a necessity in this consumer hog heaven culture we live in? Our culture seems more concerned with the luxuries than the necessities. You know what necessities are, don’t you? Affordable health care, affordable housing, livable wage jobs, chemical free food, air, and water. Our culture has trouble delivering those things. But its real damn good at delivering hi-tech toys to play with.

“So, you’re not going to tell me why you’re not going,” I said.

“No.”

What game was she playing? She didn’t want to go to hear the reading of her own sister’s will. Not even out of pure human curiosity. Not to know whether she was included in the will. Did she already know what was in it? Was that why she didn’t want to go? Because she didn’t need to go. I raised up a little bit and looked at her through the tops of my eye sockets. She stood only a few feet away from me near the end of the hallway. Wearing a pullover cotton blouse and form fitting casual slacks, she was covered from head to toe in gray.

“Turn up the furnace,” I said, ’I’m cold.”

“I’m not.”

“I didn’t ask if you were cold. Turn up the furnace.”

Gina went to the thermostat, clicked it up a notch, then walked head up to the front window. Once there, she drew down on the pull string that opened the curtains. Light came into the room in a small, muted dose. But it was more than enough to cause me to squint and turn my eyes away.

“Why did you do that?”, I asked in a rougher tone than I intended.

“I just wanted to let in a little light.”

“Couldn’t you have asked first? I didn’t want any light.”

“But its hardly any light at all.”

“Enough to bother me.”

“Fine, I’ll close the curtains.”

Gina pulled hard on the draw cord. Too hard. Down came the curtains, rod and all.

“Sorry,” she said.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“In order to believe, you have to trust.”

“Why don’t I trust you?“

No answer. She stood there in the exact same spot, unmoved and unmoving. It took an appearance by Alexandria coming down the hall to budge the hall hogging Gina from her spot. The two women passed each other, exchanged solemn non-committal looks, then quick, easy dismissals. There was no hint of camaraderie between them, but then again there was no hint of animosity either.

“You’ve been wanting to know what’s wrong with me,” Alexandria said. “I’ve finally decided to tell you. It’s an infamous list of three. I want no interruptions, smart ass remarks, not even a burp from you. You better get it all the first time because there will be no replays, understand?”

“Yes.”

“Now do you have anything to say before I get started? Anything at all.”

“No.”

“Good. Here it is, short and not so sweet. Carl and I are finished. Over, done, divorced. He’s found someone else. They’ve been fucking since November. He says he loves the little shit. I’ve got almost ten years on her. I’d like to tie her down and----”

“And?”

“And nothing.”

“Look, Alex I----.”

“I heard you decided not to go to the reading of the will.”

“Yeah.”

“Good idea. We don’t want to give Winters the idea we’re still on the case. What could we get out of it anyway? Even if Sonny inherits everything, we still wouldn’t have proof he murdered his wife. And I think it’s a good idea for you personally.”

“You mean going there might get me killed?”

“No, I meant just being in that house again. Donna and everything that she conjures up in your mind.”

“Conjures is a good word to use when discussing Donna.”

“I need coffee. Lots of it.”

“Go sit down. I’ll get the coffee.”

We sat for a time in silence, drinking coffee, and enjoying each other’s company. I wanted her to tell me more about the ‘The Infamous List of Three’ as she called it. So far, she’d only told me about one of them. What were the other two? I was curious, but not enough to ask her about it. If she was going to tell me, it would have to be on her terms, in her own time and in her own way. The silence went on this way between us for three quarters of an hour, when the phone rang. Alex answered the phone. She pushed the button for speakerphone. This is how the conversation went:

“Hello.”

“The reading of the will has been cancelled.“

“Cancelled? What happened?”

“The will. It’s missing.”

“Missing? When was the last time it was seen.”

“Not since it was put in the safe.”

“When was that?”

“Two years ago, I believe.”

“Who has access to the combination.”

“Only Mr. and Mrs. Winters.”

“Was it written down anywhere.”

“Mrs. Winters didn’t need to write it down. But Mr. Winters had written it down and kept it in the library.”

“Is any of the family there?”

“No one except the servants. Mr. Winters is at his office. Adrienne is at work.

I don’t know where Sylvia is.”

“What about the son, George.”

“A hopeless drug addict. He hasn’t been seen since you were here.”

“Is anyone looking for him?”

“No. Not even his father..”

“Any idea where he might be?”

“No, I have no knowledge of such things.”

“Has he done this before?”

“Yes, but never for this long.”

“Something in your voice is telling me you think this time is different.”

‘Yes.”

‘I’ll look for him. I can’t guarantee anything. All I can do is try.”

“Thank you.”

The conversation ended there. Alex went out to the kitchen to get more coffee. I said nothing on her way past me. I wanted to know what the hell she was doing promising to look for Winters’ son. But I kept it to myself. I said nothing concerning the matter at all. By the time she came back out of the kitchen, the subject of George Winters was securely, but not so neatly tucked away.

“I know I should’ve asked you this when I first saw you today,” Alex said. “How’s you’re health?”

“There are times when I feel okay. There are times when I feel brutal. But I have yet to feel the way I used to. I may never get to that point.”

“You need to give yourself more time It’s only been a short time since you’ve been out of the hospital.”

“Time heals all wounds, huh? You know what I have to say about that. Bullshit. I know I had problems before. But they were psychological, emotional problems. At least I had my physical health. I never dealt with physical problems before. Now I feel like I’ll never get back my physical health. My back, my right leg, my stamina, my strength are all giving me problems.”

“I’ve been giving you problems too haven‘t I. You had enough of your own without adding mine to the mix. Neal, I-----.”

“What?”

“I’m thinking about quitting you.”

Alex didn’t say another word. She didn’t say another word because she couldn’t. She started crying right then and there. I’d never seen Alex cry before. I stood up and went to her. I held her in my arms for what seemed like a long time. Her head rested heavily against my right shoulder. Her crying stopped.

“Let’s take a drive,” I said.

“Okay.”

I’d hoped the drive would help both of us, but there wasn’t one settling thing about the drive. Not even the normally calming, tree lined scenery that draped itself across much of the lower west side of Wannabe. The arms of the boulevard trees and the arms of the curbside trees stretched out far enough to touch fingers over the road. In the summer, the thick arms along with plentiful leaves combined to completely block out the sun.

But here, now, in the early days of spring, there were no leaves. No leaves at all. And the arms, with their hands and fingers laid bare, were powerless to help Alex and I. When we arrived home, I went inside right away. Alex decided to stay in the car for awhile. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, so I just wandered aimlessly around the house while waiting to decide.

I went into every room without giving much thought as to what I was doing or why I was there. Then, I went through every room a second time. I’d started on my third trip around, when I suddenly realized something. I hadn’t seen Gina. And more disturbingly, I hadn’t seen any of Gina’s stuff. I went to the living room window looked to the curb. Then, I went to the side window and looked to the driveway. Gina’s car was gone. Something inside me said this time she wouldn’t be coming back. Then another suspicion came to me. I went upstairs and searched a secret hiding place that no one else supposedly knew about. It’s where I’d stashed away Donna’s diaries. I opened the hiding place and confirmed my suspicions. The diaries were gone. And with their departure another shadow was born.