Series: Michael Guerin, The World’s Greatest
Alien Investigator
Episode: Six
Author’s email: DocPaul2002@yahoo.ca
Rating: PG
Spoilers: none,
Disclaimers: The concepts and names are the same, but
the characters belong to me. I give them life, more life than
Warnings: This is not canon, so if you expect it,
don’t. Things change. People change. It happens.
Summary: A
Michael POV documenting his investigating technique as the world’s greatest
alien investigator. A small town under glass, it is hard to hide the basic
truths about a person when all about are watching, and yet things are still
lost.
Author’s note: This story started as a fluff series
based on the movie Zero Effect. Basically the idea of having Michael, an
observer of human nature, give a running commentary on life, his life and those
around him in an almost clinical view as he unravels the greatest mystery of
all….life. It has evolved a bit on its own into something else, but that’s
okay since again…nothing is closer to death than something that is static.
The
Case of the Key Lacking a Lock, or a Will to Find It
Michael Guerin:
The World’s
Greatest Alien investigator
~For Sherry~
Affliction
is a stone cold bitch in the brutal face of a northern gale. It rips into your
lungs, steals your breath and every step is a painful push against the weight of
oncoming winds.
Misery.
It pertains, speaks and suggests a full spectrum of ideas, all of which might or
might not be true. In this instance I am talking about an illness that is slowly
devouring my brother’s life, his and his wife’s Liz. It has been a thought
that preys on my every innocent moment when my guard is down.
Maybe
it is because I am happy. God, there was a time when I didn’t know or
understand that phrase, or even understand the concept let alone the feeling. I
woke this morning to the feel of my unborn child moving under my hand that was
resting on my trusty assistance body. She was asleep, but I felt it. It woke me.
There
in our bedroom, I remained still, waiting for my child to stretch and move
again. He did.
He.
My
son. I have a son. Everyday I go to work, and as I pound nails, fight with
inspectors, and materials deliveries, I smile. My future. I am building my
future. Can you imagine me walking around like some loon with a permanent smile
pasted on my face? No? Good. That’s not me. Nevertheless, there it is. That
damn perky smile slowly moves across my face. Okay so it is damn sneaky. It
starts with an upturn side to my mouth, that slowly dominates until the damn
thing spreads across my face. I don’t seem to be able to help it. I completely
blame Maria. This is her fault. She makes me happy, and now look at me, I'm some
damn grinning loon.
I
guess I never expected to feel this way, and it helps that Isabel is finally
happy too. Simon has done more for Isabel than a thousand worlds, finding her
mother, or even being adopted by the Evans. She laughs. Jesse sits and watches
them, and I really think that everyday he falls more in love with her. She has
changed. She used to need everything perfect, but one day I walked into her home
and there were child’s drawings on her refrigerator—the evil refrigerator
that wasn’t big enough. Now it is. Now it’s perfect. They are talking about
adopting a sister for Simon in a few years, but they want him alone for a
while—just the three of them, just so he can get a real sense of belonging.
Isabel
has no problems with adoption. She was adopted and she knows that it is as
loving as any family can be. Jesse doesn’t mind not having children of his
own. He comes from a huge family, and his family will accept his children either
way. They were talking about finding a surrogate mother to carry a child for
them to term.
That
takes me back to affliction. Maybe my affliction is happiness, as is Isabel’s,
but Max’s is not. His affliction seems to be an internal low. Liz. She is
struggling to find a balance within herself, and she can’t seem to do it with
Max. So she cut him loose.
I’ve
found many things for other people, as I found Simon for Isabel, but what Max
needs to find, I can’t help him with. It is something inside Liz, and I’m
uncertain whether Max can help her either.
We’re
all grown up now, and in truth, no one ever said getting there would be easy. So
I think about affliction a lot lately. Max’s unhappiness is slowly leaking
into our lives. It is hard to see him this way. I guess in honesty, at first
there was this smugness as I watched his life with Liz fall apart, almost like a
retribution for all the times he risked my life, and Isabel’s to this great
love. I’m only human, so it felt justified to sit in my happy life and watch
his misery, but it was only a moment that I felt that way.
I
don’t feel that way any longer. I’m happy, and I would like to see him happy
too. I guess things that bothered me in my youth no longer pain me, and in that,
I can find a clarity.
In
truth, there is only so much I can do for Max, and even less for Liz. Their
problems are something inside them, something lost so deep inside that the mere
thought of them pains. Liz is the keeper of it. She holds onto Zan, Tess, and
the fact that she will never give Max a child to replace Zan. I think she is
steeping in the knowledge that Tess accomplished something she can’t—be the
mother to Max’s children.
Adoption?
It is an affront to her. Giving Max another person’s child to replace the one
he gave up would be at best a minor concession, and always Liz would see herself
and the child as ‘less’ than what Max could have had.
There
is a name for the disease eating away at Parker, and it is spreading to devour
Max as well. In honesty, I can’t name the disease myself, because I have no
understanding of it. I just know that it is an affliction, one that is poisoning
the very ground that Max and Liz built their lives on.
Maybe
I see too much, or even too little, but one thing I know is that I get it. I get
people, and why they act the way they do. Maybe my young life was so full of
disappointment too early or the fear I lived with every day—the fear of being
discovered, that pain and other emotions are not unfamiliar. I feel looking or
even talking to Liz Parker-Evans difficult. Not for the obvious reason, being we
have nothing in common, but for the one reason that eats at my stomach—we are
the same. I look in her eyes, and I see myself—that young boy needing and
wanting them to come, but knowing it will never happen. I see what Liz is
needing, and I know it is the one thing she can never have. She got Max, and
that has to be enough.
Some
days I hate being the world’s greatest alien investigator, because some days,
I feel my past too painfully.
This
all leads to my next case, and though it might not be apparent at first, there
is an affliction working in the background eating not only into the past, but
wading full into the future. A person died. It happens, but the cresting wave of
their life has left a finger into the future of their heirs and family.
This
all started with someone dying, a woman of strong character, an iron will, and
an affliction of paranoia and spite. There was not much about Beatrice Jane
Charters that was good in life, and even less in death. She was in all things,
ignored and taken for granted. It colored her life, and even her death. Like
cockroaches, she left her family scurrying for morsels once she died. A
matriarch of a large family with hidden resources, her heirs waited literally
her entire life for her to kick off this mortal coil, and turn to dust just to
get their just rewards.
Beatrice
Jane Charters reached out her hand from the grave, and smote her family by
leaving nothing.
Eddie
frowned at Michael Guerin as Michael plastered another corner of the wall. The
damn thing looked fine to him. Eddie Charters was not a patient man, but even
the most sainted of men was often driven to irritation by Michael Guerin.
“Are you even listening?” Michael grunted and
continued working. “Listen …”
“Eddie,” said Maria softly from the other side
of the room where she was taping crown molding. “He is listening, but you
really need to get to telling him what you want.”
Maria DeLuca-Guerin. Eddie breathed in deeply with a
gulp. She was lovely. In truth, Maria had a beauty that transcended physical
beauty, not classical beauty, but rather a presence. She walked into a room and
people noticed. Some because she was married to Michael Guerin, and that in
itself was more than a little noteworthy, and others because Maria DeLuca-Guerin
lived life like her mother, with a gusto. There were women in the town of
Eddie’s mother, Beatrice Jane once told him that
there was a race of people descendant of elves and pixies—the fey people, and
when the legends of elves faded away, those gifted with treasure remained. This
race of people were touched—blessed by a gentle soul that lived like worlds on
fire, capable of soothing the most savage of beasts with a smile and a melodic
sing-song voice all their own.
Michael’s plastering trowel hit the pan loud and
abrupt. Practically growling, he glared his displeasure of being interrupted as
he turned to Eddie.
“Charters, either speak your piece or leave. I
want to get this room done tonight, and you’re eating into valuable time.”
“Michael,” Maria admonished softly, coming up
behind her husband, her hand went to the small of his back, and Eddie swore she
was crooning to him in a quiet humming noise. Michael sighed deeply, reaching
behind him to take his wife’s hand. He led her out of the upstairs room
heading towards the back stairs that led to the kitchen below.
“Maybe some coffee would help,” Michael
surprisingly suggested.
Eddie followed in a daze, further convinced that
Maria DeLuca-Guerin was indeed magical.
Eddie’s feeling of otherworldliness didn’t
dissipate over time as he watched the married team of DeLuca and Guerin move
through the kitchen talking in half sentences, both ignoring his presence. Maria
was inventorying the refrigerator, as Michael made coffee, and both of them
would wander over to a hanging list on the refrigerator to write an item down.
The kitchen was a mess. Large and old fashioned, new
appliances were in place, but the walls were half bare where wallpaper stripping
had begun, and an entirely new wall had been constructed. Obviously they had
stopped working on the kitchen until sometime in the future, and new cabinets
were stacked against a far wall waiting to be installed.
“Why did you stop working on the kitchen?”
Michael grabbed coffee cups sitting them on the
table as he reached over to turn on a kettle for Maria’s tea. “The plumbing
needs to be redone. This old crate has antiquated insides, and Kenny Jensen
can’t get to us until this spring. Electrical is done, but plumbing is
important too. No sense in redoing the walls since we want him to change the
piping. The bathrooms upstairs are worse, and we’re adding a wet room between
the back porch and kitchen for bad weather.”
“This is great old house. I thought they would
pull it down as a health hazard.”
Maria took a seat with a canister of fried onions
usually used to make green bean casserole. “We picked it up literally for a
steal, and been paying ever since. This is a labor of love project, between the
outside landscaping, and the roof, and garage. Maybe our children’s children
will get to live in it.”
“We’re selling our old family house now that
mother is gone.”
Maria frowned when Michael stole her fried onions
and placed a piece of cut up fruit in front of her. Making a face, she started
nibbling on the pear slices. “I was truly sorry to hear about Bea. She was a
grand lady. Michael and I were out of town on a project during the funeral.”
“We received the flowers. Thank you.” Eddie was
at a loss as to what else to say. Socializing with the Guerins was well out of
his experience. The Guerins were a very tight social clique only really
involving themselves with close friends. The rest of community watched them with
interest, but few tried to break into their circle of acquaintances.
Michael poured the coffee and placed Maria's herbal
tea in front of her before taking a seat.
“So you going to tell us what’s going on?”
Michael savored the taste of the black coffee watching Eddie doctor his with
cream and extra sugar. Michael pushed his cup over to Maria, and she breathed in
deeply, living vicariously through him. Maria despised decaffeinated coffee, and
until after the pregnancy she was off caffeine. Sighing, she sipped her tea.
“My mother left no will, and …”
“So her estate is in probate waiting to be divided
equally between all heirs,” Michael guessed.
“Actually, yes, but there is a problem.” Eddie
took a drink, not really wanting to talk about his private family affairs, but
left with few options. “According to the accountant, there is nothing to
divide. He says most of property was liquidated long ago, and my mother took
care of most of her needs with cash. Even the house is a problem. It has about
three years of back taxes assessed to it, and even after probate and sell, most
of what it buys for will go to the government between taxes and inheritance
tax.”
Michael sat back listening as Eddie went on tell
them about his mother, and how she always had money and position. Of course, the
entire family had assumed that upon her death they would inherit the remaining
wealth.
“Perhaps she spent it all?” Maria suggested
gently.
“Impossible. There has to be more. Much more. In
the millions!” Eddie stood up and walked the room. “My mom was impossible to
get along with, and she seemed to suffer most of us from one day to the next.
Once she complained that we only came to see her if we wanted something, but I
can’t imagine her resources being this low. She never even hinted that it was
a possibility.”
Michael glanced at Maria tipping his head.
“What do you need from us, Mr. Charters?” Maria
asked.
Eddie took a key from his pocket and placed it on
the table. “My mother left this with her lawyer. No will. Just this. We have
torn the house apart looking for any lock it could fit. We checked banks and
safety deposit boxes, even storage facilitates. Nothing.” Eddie pushed the key
across the table. “Can you find the lock for this key?”
Michael stared at the key for a moment. “What are
you hoping to find?”
“Her will. The remainder of the estate?”
“Money? Like treasure?” Maria smiled. “Mr.
Charters, unless you know of family heirlooms or jewels, it is best not to get
your hopes up.”
“I’m not looking for pirate’s treasure, just
my inheritance—our inheritance,” Eddie corrected.
***
They were in their special room resting on the sofa.
Maria was sitting between Michael’s legs leaning back into him as his arms
held her coming from behind, and his hands absentmindedly rubbing her pregnant
stomach apply lotion to her skin. He was thinking. She could almost hear the
gears of his brain moving over things.
Maria held the key in her hand.
“You sure about this one?”
Michael paused and reached to take the key from her.
“Yeah. Beatrice Charters was many things, but she rarely did anything without
a reason. She left the key—only the key for a reason.”
“It has you intrigued.”
“A little.” Michael gave her back the key and
leaned back pulling her even closer into the cradle of his lap. “The bank
called the office today.”
Maria glanced behind her, her eyes meeting his.
“Oh, this can’t be good.”
“We’re overdrawn.”
“Crap!” Maria sighed and returned to laying
against him. “Did we not just balance our accounts? I swear we put the Carney
job and Jenkins restoration money into our account just a few days ago.” Maria
sniffed glancing back at her husband, “You holding out on me? Maybe you got a
lethal addiction to Krispy Kremes?”
“You’re my only lethal addiction,” Michael
smirked, but his face went serious. “Actually, I bought something.”
“Lord, tell me it is a Buell, because if I’m
starving this month, I wouldn’t mind wrapping my legs around nineteen horses
of power.”
Michael laughed kissing the side of Maria’s neck.
Maria’s orgasmic relationship with motorbikes was one of the reasons she was
in her condition—knocked up. Hell, he wished he thought of buying a new Harley
Davidson black Buell. His bike was kicking, but that would be the total shit.
Michael turned Maria, and she easily climbed on him
wrapping her legs around his middle as he sat up. Michael held a handful of her
ass. Pregnancy was great on her. It added something to her ass, and was
increasing her breasts. A rounder Maria was all the more to hold on to. Not that
he didn’t appreciate her normally steamlined figure, but this pocket Venus
look had merit too.
“You can wrap your legs around me.”
“Done that.” Maria kissed the side of his neck,
biting him not so gently. “What did you buy?”
“Sconces.”
Peeling herself off him, she sat back, her mouth
opening in shock. “You bought something for our house without talking
to me?”
“Now don’t be that way! These were the Mercedes
of sconces, Maria. They hit the bidding palate, and it took off.”
“You did not buy them off eBay. Tell me you did
not bankrupt us by bidding on eBay.”
Michael made a face. “Don’t be rash. You know
that you cancelled my account and deleted the link off the computer. No …”
Michael reached in the back of his pocket for a piece of paper. “This is off
that site you use to find special items for decorating. The sconces popped up
while you were doing walk through the
“So you felt compelled to spend every penny in our
bank account for wall decorations.”
“Well, not every penny. I wasn’t planning on
spending that much, but this damn turkey in
“You were in for a pound. Uh-huh.” Maria rubbed
her eyes. “Our bank account has been raped.”
“Just look …”
Maria reluctantly stared at the item that was going
to force her on a diet of mac and cheese for two months. They were—oh god.
“Thirteen century leaded crystal from
“Michael,” Maria couldn’t breathe or even
blink. Hell, she practically would have to gouge her eyes out just to close
them. “They are my dream. I …”
“I know. I saw them, and I knew they were what you
would want.”
Maria kissed the crap out of him. Loved this man,
she absolutely loved this man. “The bank,” she said when she could talk
again.
“I covered the overdraft from the savings
account.”
“Which one?”
Michael grimaced. So it wasn’t like they had tons
of savings accounts, but they tried. Their main one was badly mauled. “The
baby account.”
“Oh hell.” That account was struggling since its
inception. Their intentions were good, but follow through was becoming a
problem. Maria couldn’t take her eyes off the sconces. Hers. She looked for
them all her life. They matched the chandelier in the front hall perfectly in
the most ridiculous of ways given that the chandelier was Austrian crystal—the
chandelier she had to wrestle a damn wench from
“Great, huh?”
“I love them.” Maria’s eyes softened looking
at his pleased expression. Michael didn’t care much about money. There were
too many other things that meant more. This house meant more. She meant more.
Their lives together meant everything. He rarely said it, but he showed it time
and time again.
“They should arrive next week.” Inordinately
pleased with himself, Michael sat back with a lap full of Maria, utterly content
until she broke the spell.
“At the rate we’re going, we’re not going to
be able to send our child to college, let alone get him out of the hospital when
he is born. They’ll probably hold him hostage until we pay up.”
“Well at least we’ll live in an awesome
house,” said Michael looking at the upside of things. He appeared thoughtful.
“Do you think they'll pay for college if we leave the kid there until he’s
eighteen?”
Maria rubbed her stomach, “Don’t listen to your
daddy, he’s a punk.” Maria’s stomach growled. Either the baby was
acknowledging his short change in the parent department, or this was a plea for
substance. “I’m hungry, and so is Junior. What are you going to feed us?”
“Okay, that is going to be a problem. Our grocery
list looks like a monster, and if I remember correctly, we have half an uneaten
sandwich, two oranges, grapes threatening to be raisins, and what might be
cheese if we scrape off the white stuff.”
“Michael …”
“I know,” he said kissing her on the temple.
“What do you suggest?”
“Hmm, well in times like these, there is usually
only one recourse—we go mooch off Mom.”
“Excellent!” Michael was more than happy to raid
Amy’s kitchen. Pulling Maria up off the sofa, he quickly refastened the top
buttons of his jeans wondering when she had opened them. “You want me to call
and warn her?”
“No way! She’ll hide all the good stuff. I’m
hoping for some Lil’ Debbie snack cakes.”
***
They came home with a car load of groceries. Amy
floated them a cash advance, because she didn’t want her baby and grandbaby
starving to death, but in truth, they showed her the sconces and she totally
understood. They really were kicking sconces.
“Company,” said Maria between bites of Ben &
Jerry ice cream.
Michael looked at the figure gracing their front
porch groaning. He redirected the spoonful of scream and followed it with
a long passionate kiss. “You taste good.”
“Company, buddy. Don’t start with me. You know
this pregnancy has my libido in hyperdrive.”
“Tell
you what,” Michael took the tub of ice cream finishing it in three spoonfuls,
“you get rid of the beast, and I’ll let you take me down.”
“Don’t call Liz a beast,” Maria said heaving
herself out of the SUV. Fine, she’d let him do all the heavy lifting. She was
delicate. “And the takedown? Bark it up, Sparky—I take you down all the
time.”
Michael laughed patting her ass on his way to the
back of car to unload essential groceries. He took his time hoping that the
weepy Liz was weeping on her way home. Sighing, Michael opened a Snapple. No
luck. Yep, she was still there.
“Take that look off your face,” Maria whispered,
pinching his side as she stole a drink of his Snapple. “Liz is here to see
you,” Maria said louder.
“Me?”
“Sorry to interrupt your evening, Michael.”
Michael shrugged. “No big, Maria and I were just
going to burn our credit cards out of homage to impinging bankruptcy.”
“We have no self control,” Maria explained to
Liz. “We’re like kids in a candy shop.”
“This is really a favor for Max, but—well, I’d
appreciate it if you would do it for me too. I mean, it’s a little messed up,
and we—that is to say that Max and I, well we just had this discussion.” Liz
wiped a weary hand across the back of her neck. “We—I told him, well, we
…”
Michael shook his head. He was going to have to duct
tape his head, or it was going to explode. Liz conversations had that effect on
him. “Liz! You had a fight?”
“Right, we fought, and he got a tad bit upset, and
…”
“Where did he go?”
“I don’t know.” Liz bit her lip, her eyes
shiny with tears. “He took a six pack of beer from my refrigerator.”
“Michael,” said Maria worried.
“I’ll find him.”
“You want me to come with you?”
“Naw, you go feed your face, and I’ll be back
soon.”
“We just ate at Mom’s.”
“That was two hours ago,” Michael pointed out.
“That long? I should have a sandwich.” Maria
took her friend’s arm. “C’mon, Liz. I’ll make us both a sandwich while
we put away the groceries.” Maria looked up at her husband, her eyes serious
as he rested his hand on the small swell of her stomach. “Be careful.”
“Always,” Michael said as he kissed her before
leaving.
***
Michael found Max at the old quarry. It wasn’t
that hard. The old Cheville stood out like a sore thumb. Parking next to the
Cheville, he walked along the path to the edge of the quarry.
“Don’t jump in.”
“Michael,” Max said, turning to see his old
childhood friend and brother. “How?”
“Liz. She came by asking me to find you.”
Michael sat down next to Max. “She was worried about you. Said you took a six
pack of beer.”
“Did. Drank it too.” Max shook his head.
“I’m majorly fucked.” Max laughed, moving his hand, and a movement of
light moved across the night sky. “I can do all this amazing shit, but I
can’t make my wife love me.”
Michael looked around the ground seeing three
unopened beers, and three empties. He gathered them back into the cardboard
crate. “She loves you, Max. She just doesn’t love herself right now. Liz
wants something better for you—better than her.”
“She’s all I ever wanted.” Max breathed out
harshly. “I saved her life, but I left her dead inside. She can’t have
everything she deserves.”
“She wants you.”
“Wake up, Michael. She kicked me to the curb. She
told me today that she is filing for divorce.”
Michael stared out into the dark over the quarry. He
really didn’t know what to say. If Maria ever left him, filed for
divorce—he’d kill himself. Her first, and then himself. That was a gruesome
thought, but he honestly didn’t know how to live alone any longer, and without
Maria? It was impossible to even imagine. She was more than his wife—she was
his best friend.
“God, she gave up so much knowing me. She went to
a damn Community College!” Max rubbed his face hard, wiping his nose. “I
don’t know why I could never leave here. You and Maria left. You went to
Michael didn’t know what to say.
Max threw a stone into the void. “I’ve worked at
the
“No.” Michael stared at his brother with
something akin to pity. “Max, I think for both you and Liz, you redesigned
your ambitions. Once it was college and careers for both of you, but after you
met, and all you went through, your only ambition was each other.”
“There is no us.” Max swished his hands about in
disgust. “The one thing I could give her to make her whole—a baby, is the
only thing I can’t give her.” Max stared at his hands. “If I could just
reach out my hands and heal what is broken, I would.”
Michael sighed. Maybe that was the problem. They
relied too much on their powers to fix everything, but maybe life wasn’t
supposed to be simple. Maybe making a diamond out of a piece of ordinary coal
wasn’t romantic—just cheap. Nothing had value without struggle. His home. He
worked his ass off, as did Maria, to buy every little scrap. Maria taught him
long ago that doing it with his own hands was more important than waving his
hand across a wall, magically painting and repairing. Their house was his adult
version of a napkin holder, and he wanted it to be perfect.
“Oh shit!” Max began laughing hysterically.
“What?”
“I got bit by a snake.”
“No shit? You’re drunk!” Max held up his arm.
The fucking snake was still attached, fangs and all. “Oh crap!” Michael
stared at the reptile. “Is it poisonous?”
“Shit, how do I know? My luck? Not poisonous
enough—I’m doomed to live a long time. Looks like a rattler. People survive
rattlesnake bites, right?”
Michael pulled Max to his feet as Max dislodged the
snake tossing it away. Grabbing the drunk alien and the remaining six pack, he
pulled Max along with him. “We leave the Cheville. I need to get you to the
ER.”
“Can’t. Alien.”
“Frick that! We’ve both been in there before.
They just think our blood is a genetic flaw—hencky.”
“I could heal myself.” Max mused reaching with
his other hand. Michael quickly intercepted.
“Are you loco? In your condition? You’ll blow
your arm off or worse, mutate it to something highly suspicious.”
“You heal me then.”
Michael shoved a drunk soppy Max into the passenger
side. “I wish I could, Max. Honestly, I wish I could, but you know my powers
don’t specialize in internal stuff. Broken limbs, scrapes—sure, but
poisonous toxins? Take your chances with an ER doctor.”
He wasn’t just talking about healing Max’s arm,
and maybe Max understood that. There was sometimes only so much that the
world’s greatest alien investigator could do, and the humbleness to realize
what was beyond him—that was what made him the greatest. He accepted things
for what they were.
***
The ER doctor was a man after Michael’s own heart,
but being his heart was currently owned by one Maria DeLuca-Guerin—
Doctor Adam Persinsky was a second year Resident on
rotation, poor sap. He took one look at Max and stepped back three steps. Max
smelled a little like beer—okay, a lot like beer. Michael suspected that
instead of drinking the three beers in completion, Max had been so wasted on a
partial, he practically doused himself in the others.
“Bit by a snake?” Dr. Persinsky said needing
confirmation. Michael nodded. Yeah, he saw it himself, otherwise he would’ve
been skeptical. “Where’s the snake?”
“We tossed it.” Michael was confused. Were snake
bites like dog bites? Did they need to test for rabies? “Why? Is it
important?”
“Sure looking at your friend’s condition, that
poor snake is going to need medical treatment.”
Michael snickered at that. “And Max?”
Adam made a face, as if. “Nothing toxic is living
in that bloodstream. The alcohol is slowly pickling him from the inside out, but
I’ll give him an anti-venom just in case. It had to be a rattler if it was
poisonous. There are a few other varieties in this area, but I think you
would’ve mentioned if it was a sleek yellow thing.”
“Definitely rattler.”
“On it.” The doctor scratched some orders
quickly on Max’s chart. “You want me to take blood?”
“Do you need to?” Michael asked seeing a way out
of tricky dancing over alien blood.
“Naw. Not unless you want him arrested for an
alcohol blood level beyond the legal limits. I have to report.”
“Screw that—his wife just filed for divorce.
Arresting him would be like whipped cream on top of immeasurable suffering. He
might enjoy it too much.”
“Poor sot.”
Max took the opportunity to fall off the examination
table hitting the floor with a thump. “You’ve no idea.” The doctor went to
get a shot while Michael squatted down to more Max’s level. “Hey, Maxwell,
you okay?”
“Love you, Michael. I really love you, man.”
“Okay, that’s it. I’m dumping you on your
parent’s doorstep.”
“Love you, big guy.”
“Hey! Cut it out! I’m happily married.”
***
Maria and Liz were making up the guest room. “I
should just go home,” Liz suggested.
“Stay. We can maybe go do something in the morning
after Michael leaves for work.”
“Don’t you have work?”
“Sure. I’m redecorating the
Liz laughed, feeling a chagrin at her best friend.
Maria as an architect and decorator was hard to fathom, but in truth, Maria
always had a sense of design in her blood. “So how is the architect thing
going?”
“Ups and downs. Depends on the construction
company, and since my company is tied with Michael, seeing how we co-own
both—that man is exhausting. He always finds a way to read my blueprints wrong
or take liberties in construction that ruin my lines of perfection.”
Liz laughed. Yeah, she got that. Michael and Maria
might be a team, happily married, but they never did anything quiet. Fighting
each other was just part of foreplay, or so she suspected.
“So if the companies are doing well, what was all
that talk about bankruptcy?”
Maria waved at the wall around her. “The house is
a thankless ogre eating away all our resources. This house is a huge money pit,
and neither Michael nor I want to compromise on the image we have in our
heads—so we eat beans and weenies.”
“It’s a beautiful house, Maria.” It really
was. Three story old house, mixed between old world farm house and a touch of
southern plantation house, a nice wave at old Victorian with a slightly skewed
style tossed in for originality. It was a wreck when Michael and Maria bought
it, and the grounds it stood on. They were slowly transforming it into something
of beauty, restoring a lost grace.
“I know it looks too big for us, and who knows if
we’ll ever have more than one child, but …”
“But?”
Maria sat on the edge of the bed. “Michael,” she
said breathlessly. “The day we looked at this house, we walked around the back
and he was so busy listing everything wrong, the cost, the work, and then he
stopped. He saw the backyard. It was trashed, overgrown, and needing—love. He
stared at it and I saw everything.”
Liz sat next to Maria. She had always wondered what
made them buy a house that should’ve been condemned. Heck there had been a
hole through the floors from dry rot, and you could see the basement from the
third floor. Michael for the longest time wanted to put a fireman’s pole down
the hole, but Maria reminded him that they had a baby on the way. The image of
his child tumbling down a three story hole was enough to get Michael laying new
floor the next day.
“What did you see?”
“It was his first backyard. He was seeing forts in
trees, a swimming pool, swing sets, and maybe a sandbox. There was a hoop over
the garage, and he was playing pickup basketball with his sons while I
watched.” Maria gave Liz a watery smile. “I hadn’t seen that look in his
eyes since that first night so long ago in the Nookie Motel, when he told me
that he was waiting for them to come find him—to find something better than
Roswell. It was back—the dream of home.” Maria wiped away a tear. “I
really wanted that for him, because he gave me something I wanted. I was no
longer waiting for my dad to come find me, to take me someplace better, because
there could never be anyplace better than Michael Guerin.”
Michael, who had come up the backstairs quietly
searching for Maria, slowly moved from the spot where he had been silently
listening. He never knew that she had seen what he saw that day, but then there
was little about Maria DeLuca-Guerin that ceased to amaze him.
My
trusty assistant was correct. I guess I was surprised at how much she saw. I
attribute her foresight to my influence. Obviously my self proclaimed profession
is rubbing off on her as well. She is highly astute.
I did
see that overgrown backyard in a different light. It was perfect. I spent my
entire life in a trashy trailer barely having enough space or privacy. Hell, I
could hear the Patterson’s next door making their hundredth child, and the
moment Mr. Patterson disengaged himself after three minutes of panting hard,
then going to relieve himself in the bathroom.
There
were so much of others’ lives you really didn’t want to be a spectator of,
but none the less, it happens. I always attributed my special talent of
observation to my informative years when I was nothing but a bystander. I was
always on the outside looking in. Maybe that was where the want or need for a
real backyard came from. I don’t know. I just know that I never had one, and I
can see my children playing there, happy and safe.
My
young life was my affliction. It was the very thing that almost made me shut my
eyes to possibilities. I almost stepped into a Granilith and left this world all
together. Had I taken that step that fatal day, my life, and the lives of my
brother and sister would’ve ended.
I did
not walk away. I couldn’t. In a moment of absolute clarity, I realized that I
wasn’t heading towards something I wanted, but away. I was leaving the only
home I had ever known, and the one person who made me feel alive. I couldn’t
leave Maria.
Maybe
affliction is a scar you carry inside, an infirmity that pains in places you
can’t reach to apply healing balm. In the most unsuspecting times, I feel my
youth like a gaping wound, and it pulls at me. Maria is the only relief I found,
and without her help, I couldn’t imagine having gotten from there to here.
I
wonder what healing balm would be needed to cure Liz Parker-Evans of her
affliction, and in turn, heal my brother.
“Dammit!”
Michael slammed down the receiver.
“Something vexes thee, my love?”
“Ha! Amusing,” said Michael, his eyes narrowing
at his wife. She looked too rested and happy. Too much of a canary who ate the
cream. “Sixth call from a Charters. Did I not just accept the job
yesterday?”
Maria laughed, passing Liz the preserves for her
toast. She kissed the top of Michael’s head on her way to the coffee pot. She
would pour. It would allow her a chance to breathe in the heady aroma. Aw,
coffee beans.
“You going to get started on it?”
Michael took his cup of coffee and scowled into its
dark recesses. “Suppose I’ll have to. The vultures are circling, and they
want their inheritance. There will be no rest.” Michael’s eyes took on a
strange concentrating glint as he looked his wife over. “Whatcha doing today, honey?”
“Oh!”
Maria turned a nice tint of red. When he used that tone, it was no good—no
good at all. “Liz and I are shopping this morning, so do not even think about
it.”
“Shopping?” Michael rubbed his jaw.
“Excellent.”
“No! Absolutely not! I know you, Michael Guerin.
You are not ruining my shopping trip.”
Michael leaned on the table to meet his mate’s
eyes. “Point in face, Maria—we have no money for shopping, but if we finish
this job we will.”
Maria sighed and glanced at her friend, who was
swallowing an amused laugh. Maria lifted her brow, and Liz shrugged. What the
heck? Both of them were curious as to what Michael wanted them to do.
“Spit it out, Spaceboy. Spare me the innocent
looks.”
“Well I'm clearing the site for the
“Tiny? How tiny?”
Michael passed the key from Beatrice Charters
estate. “Pass this over to Willie Marshall. Tell him I just need to know the
type of lock it would open.”
“Willie Marshall? The butcher?”
“Sure, he’s a butcher now, but his father was
“No pick” Willie. He went up to the big house for B&E. Willie watched
his dad most of his young life. Willie Sr. was a master key man.”
“Key man. Right. Just give it to Willie?”
“Right. Tell him to call me, and I’ll swing by
and pick up the key after work.” Michael finished his coffee, kissing Maria
passionately. “Gotta go, got a date with some trinitrotoluene.”
Liz looked in Maria in inquiry. “TNT,” Maria
explained.
“Oh, I knew that—once upon a time, I knew
that.” Liz looked at the closed door that Michael had gone through. “Does he
kiss you like that all the time?”
“Thoughts of explosives get him excited.”
“Hmm,” said Liz thoughtfully. “So when will he
really start working on this case?”
“My guess? Tonight.” Maria looked at the
refrigerator door longingly. She was pregnant. There was nothing wrong with
having ice cream for breakfast, right?
“Tonight?” Liz looked thoughtful for a moment.
“Can I tag along? I mean, I sort of miss all the investigating stuff we did in
high school, all the intensity and intrigue.”
Maria looked at her friend and smiled.
“Absolutely, though I should warn you, Michael tends to figure things out
fast, so there isn’t much intrigue. How fast he solves it depends on his
irritation factor.”
“I’m going to be there,” Liz pointed out.
“Yeah, he should be real quick.”
Maria and Liz shared a look, and both of them broke
out laughing. Michael’s intolerance of Liz was well known, and over the years
Liz had come to understand that it wasn’t her personally that Michael had
issues with, but rather with the way Max regarded her. It had never been
resolved, but his support of her at times had been surprising. They weren’t
children any longer, so hurt feelings aside, she now appreciated her position of
irritating Michael like an annoying sibling. She never had a brother, so it was
nice to feel a connection free of Max, associated with Maria. She moved from
being Max’s love interest to Maria’s annoying sister, a sister-in-law
Michael wouldn’t mind dumping off a cliff.
Strange how lines of connections had their own draws
and benefits, because despite how irritating Michael found her at times, Liz
knew that he would fight for her to the death. Some friendships just worked that
way.
***
Maria glanced at Michael in concern. The muscles
along his neck were clenched, and he had that blank stare on his face as he shut
down. Charters, tons of them were in the old Charters house hounding every
footstep Michael took. Every minute or so, one would interrupt him, and demand a
progress report.
“He’s going to explode,” Liz observed.
“Not yet. He isn’t close to his
“Isabel and Max.”
“Right.” Maria was munching on a bag of cheese
doodles. “He's in a real hurry with this one. Look at what I’m eating, and
he hasn’t even commented.”
“Hate it when he ignores you, huh?” Liz teased,
laughing at the expression on Maria’s face. Her friend was in risk of being
spoiled rotten. Liz suddenly lost her amusement, as her eyes focused somewhere
Maria couldn’t go. Max was always so attentive to her as well.
“Exactly.” Maria frowned at Michael. He looked
pissed in a bad way. Jason Charters was back, and he was arguing with his
brother. Eddie Charters didn’t look any calmer, and the infighting between
family members over the estate was not in the least bit attractive.
“You ready to go?” Michael asked.
“You done?” Maria frowned at the group of
Charters that went quiet at Michael finally speaking.
“Yeah, this is bullshit. I have better ways to
spend my evening. We’ll come back tomorrow when there's no one around.”
“Michael…Mr. Guerin, please.” Eddie quickly
jumped into the breach. “We’re sorry. I know we’re making it difficult. If
you could please just stay a bit longer, we’ll leave you in peace.”
Michael breathed in deeply. “Fine. Where's the
study?”
Michael waited for the door to close before going to
the desk. “Michael, you know they searched the desk.”
“I’m sure they took it apart and reassembled
it.” Michael riffled through the contents. Sitting back thoughtfully, he
looked at the room.
“What are you looking for?” Liz asked
tentatively, not sure she wouldn’t be seen as yet another annoying distraction
like the Charters.
Michael palmed the key. “Willie said it was a turn
of the century turnkey. They were used to lock journals, diaries, and
ledgers.”
Standing, Michael went to the wall of books.
“Maybe this was never meant to open a lock, such as a vault or chest, but
rather a book or ledger that tells them what they need to find.”
“Treasure hunt?” Maria stopped munching,
suddenly interested. “Oh! Do you think she left a list of clues, like a
scavenger hunt?”
“I think this is the scavenger hunt, and her heirs
are the scavengers.” Michael had it with the Charters. After two hours of
listening to them rant and rave at each other about how none of the others
deserved a penny because they were forever mooching off the ‘old lady’, he
hoped there wasn’t a bean left to count.
“Where do we start,” Liz inquired, a little
caught up in the fun of investigating with Michael and Maria.
Michael pursed his lips and nodded to the wall to
wall built in bookcases, and he tipped on his heels. “There.”
Liz stared at the wall of books, and made a small
squeak under her breath, “Oh, that’s all? I thought this would be hard.”
“I get the lower shelves,” said Maria.
“Michael won’t let me climb on ladders or things.” Maria gave her friend a
thoughtful look. “Liz, you take up high.”
“Why? Michael is tall. He's almost tall enough to
reach.”
“If you’re in the middle, and he falls off the
ladder, you want to be the first thing he lands on?”
Maria had a point. “I’ll take up high.”
***
“That is total bullshit!” screamed Lucas
Charters.
Eddie sighed, and shook his head, glancing worriedly
at Michael, who was calmly reading a book. They were going to lose their
investigator.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie said to Michael, Maria, and
Liz. “I couldn’t keep them out.”
“No, he’s not,” Marianne Roberts piped in,
supporting her brother, Jason. “Mom gave you more money than the rest of us!
She was always helping you out of debt. Did she buy us a car? No!”
“It wasn’t a car. It was a delivery truck for my
company.”
“Which went bankrupt,” Jason pointed out.
“Could we all stop arguing. It’s getting us
nowhere,” Eddie pleaded with his younger siblings. God help them all. Why did
his mother have to have six children? She should’ve stopped at him. Being an
only child would’ve been a blessing.
Eddie frowned at his other sister, Angie. Her and
her husband were eyeing a large chesterfield. “Andy, I swear, you touch a
piece of furniture, I’ll call Valenti.” The spouses and children of the
others were moving in and out of the house, but one person was missing. “Where
the heck is Chris?”
“Last time I saw him, he was checking out the
silverware.”
Eddie quickly went through the door, ignoring his
other siblings and their spouses. Immediately, the pack was on Michael demanding
he give them a progress report. Michael ignored them until Marianne’s husband,
Walter finally broke through Michael’s concentration.
“Look here, Mr. Guerin,” the man, irritated by
Michael’s refusal to pay attention, put a hand on Maria who was next to
Michael looking through the books on the lower case. “Mrs. Guerin, I …”
Michael’s hand came out and grabbed him by the
wrist, his attention now completely on the man. Michael’s golden brown eyes
darkened, and his pupils constricted to fine points. The room suddenly quieted
as the collective group took a step back.
Michael Guerin, didn’t he kill a man once? The
rumors from his youth were still whispered around the town, most sure it was
just a rumor, but faced with the look in Michael’s eyes now, they weren’t so
sure.
“Keep your hands off my wife!”
Maria quickly stood, placing a restraining hand flat
on Michael’s stomach. “Michael, it’s okay.” Maria quickly smiled at
Walter Roberts. “Mr. Roberts, perhaps if we could have some peace and quiet,
we could finish up quicker. It’s very difficult with all the—noise and
interruptions.”
Eddie returned, dragging his younger brother, Chris.
Chris was the youngest, in his mid-twenties and the more likely to steal
anything not nailed down.
Eddie stopped when he saw Walter’s hand still in
Michael’s grip. “Oh God! What did you do now?” Eddie was at his limit of
patience.
“What has got into you people! I don’t even know
you or want to! Wasn’t it bad enough that before her casket was even in the
grave you were here loading up everything thing she owned in your pickup
trucks?” Eddie ran his hands through his hair.
Marianne sniffed, indignant at the criticism. “Mom
wanted me to have the chaise lounge.”
“No she didn’t!” Angie argued. “She told me
that it would be mine!”
“Oh please. I’m the eldest girl. The china, and
silver, quilts, and photographs should come to me.”
“Sure, everything is yours, isn’t it,
Marianne.” Jason sneered. Lucas tossed himself into a chair snickering.
“Stop it!” Eddie yelled. “The lawyers told
you, as did the Sheriff’s department. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING can be
removed from the estate until after the estate is processed. They already made
you bring everything back after the funeral, or be arrested for theft. So no one
is getting anything until the lawyers decide.”
“I’d torch the whole damn place,” Michael
whispered to Maria after releasing Walter’s hand.
“Angie never brought back the leaded crystal lamp
from the front hall,” said Marianne.
“I don’t have it! I told you, and …”
“Michael,” Liz said from the top of the ladder.
She handed him down a large book of old leather binding. It had a leather
binding strap that wrapped to the front and locked with a key access. Maria and
Michael took the book as Liz came down the step ladder. The three gathered
around the book, ignoring the fighting in the room as the family members
threatened each other with bodily harm.
It was an old fashion ledger book. The key fit.
Michael turned it, and opened the leather binding. It was Beatrice Jane’s
accounting book. It looked like she started keeping records when she was young,
in her early twenties, and every transaction was accounted for. Michael flipped
through the book, quickly scanning as every household bill was entered, new
income added, and expenses painstakingly entered with detailed explanation.
Maria and Liz read with Michael watching the family
assets decreasing over the years as the drain on the family coffers increased.
The three of them gave a collective sigh as they hit the bottom line recorded on
the last page three days before Beatrice Jane Charters died.
Michael closed the ledger and looked at Maria.
“You ready to go?”
“Yeah. I’m hungry.”
“When aren’t you.” Michael put an arm around
her waist, pulling her close to him. “Liz, you going to eat with us?”
“What’s for dinner?”
“Thought we would go out, eat on the expense
account.”
“Senior Chows?”
“Country Club. It’s prime rib night.”
Liz smiled. “Okay, I could eat.” It had been so
long since she really went out with Michael and Maria, especially since Max
moved out. It was hard to be alone with a couple that was very together, but she
needed to get used to that. She was going to be alone for the rest of her life.
Michael waded through the crowd, and placed the
large ledger on the desk with the key on top of it. He nodded to Eddie Charters.
“I’ll send the bill to your mother’s lawyers. They can take it from the
estate.”
The Charters all stared at the ledger, and the key,
none of them moving. Everything they hoped for was there in that one book, one
that they vaguely remembered their mother always writing in.
***
Liz laughed as she watched Michael and Maria eat.
Half the food on Maria’s plate Michael deemed too salty or fatty, he removed,
and he placed a large salad in front of Maria. Liz bit her lip as Maria’s face
showed exactly how she was feeling about his actions. Maria sighed, and went to
work on the salad. There was no use arguing with Michael. He was a tyrant over
her diet since she became pregnant.
“Thanks, honey,” she said, kissing his cheek.
Greens. Ick. They needed salt, or lemon, or maybe chocolate pudding to make them
palatable.
“So all the money is gone.”
“Looks that way,” Michael dumped a ton of sour
cream on his plate next to his huge baked potato, and the slab of prime rib was
three times what either she or Maria had. “Bea Charters had been floating and
supplementing the incomes of her children for years. New house for Marianne and
Walter, started Eddie up in his business. She did the same for Jason, and bought
Angie’s husband a car dealership. Lucas got an education through graduate
school, and beyond. All the children were sent to college without student loans,
and she paid for the grandchildren too. Chris, her youngest, she paid off
numerous gambling debts, and got him out of trouble time and time again.”
“They bled her dry,” Maria shook her head, very
sad for the elderly woman. “No matter how much they took, it was never enough.
They stole from her even before her body was in the ground.”
“I wonder why she only left the key.” Liz stared
at her plate. It was hard. Sometimes you gave everything you had to a cause or a
person, and it was just not enough—never enough. The cruel injustice of it all
stuck in her throat, and Liz discretely passed Maria her dessert that she could
no longer eat.
“She left the key so maybe their eyes would open,
and they would finally see her. All those years, they never saw their mother for
who she was, just what she could give them.”
“What she could give them,” Liz repeated softly,
her eyes looking beyond Maria and Michael.
***