Meanwhile, across town, it had been another boring, uneventful day for Celia Parks. She had just moped around her apartment all day. She tried to watch television for a while, but she found nothing to interest her. As much as she tried to divert her thoughts, she kept thinking about her suspension and the problems at the hospital. Maybe it had been all her fault after all and she had made a mistake. A fatal mistake.
From time to time, she would get up from the couch and pace the floor, occasionally looking out the living room window, seeing the same scene before her.
In the corner of her mind she kept remembering the black car and the man who had sat outside that one night. She would stand for several minutes and carefully scan the traffic and the parked cars in the neighborhood, but each time she saw nothing out of the ordinary, especially the black car. It had been only one time and it probably didn’t mean anything. In her wrought up state, she was probably jumping at shadows as she had told herself a million times.
The clock ticked past eleven when she finally decided to give up on the day. She flicked the TV off. She wasn’t even aware of what was on or even if the current show was beginning or ending. She decided to shower and get ready for bed. Perhaps she could finally go to sleep and pass some hours.
By a little after midnight, she was finally ready for bed, dressed in her flannel pj’s. She went around the apartment and shut each light off. Only the light from the street outside provided what light was still left in the apartment. It was just enough for Celia to see her way around.
She walked to the living room picture window and reached for the cord to draw the drapes. She had them half drawn when she halted with a start. Parked on the street below, was the same black car she had seen before. It was back. This time there was no man inside it. Where was he?
She yanked on the cord hard and the drapes flew together with a snap. She whirled around and jumped away from the window as if it was alive.
The doorbell buzzed and she jerked her head toward the door. It suddenly looked a long way off as if she was looking at it through a distorted haze. She jumped back toward the window, her back hugging the wall next to it. A dull throb pounded in her head. She waited silently, staring at the door. The door bell buzzed again.
It’s him, she thought. He’s come for me. But why? What have I done?
She watched the door. She could see the door knob turning on the inside. Whoever was out there, was trying the door. She had a dead bolt. The knob stopped turning. Whoever was out there, now knew he couldn’t get in. There was no way he could get in, she told herself. She would wait. Keep still. Maybe he would go away. She could call the police. They could send someone out to protect her.
She waited for what seemed like an eternity; listening and watching the door, until she was pretty sure she heard nothing more outside her door, she ventured forward across the room. She crept silently up to the door and put her eye to the peep hole. There was nothing out there. Just an empty hallway. She breathed a sigh of relief and darted toward the phone on the coffee table.
She had gone about two and a half steps, when she froze in her tracks. There was a fist pounding on the door. She whirled around to face the door. The rapping sounded again. This time it sounded more urgent. She backed up toward the coffee table, bending and reaching for the phone. It was time to call the police. She didn’t care if the man outside heard her. Her fingers had just curled around the receiver handle and she was lifting it from its cradle, when the knocking sounded again. This time a voice came with it.
“Ms. Parks? Are you all right? Open up! This is the police.”
It was a deep voice and it had a mellow ring to it. It sounded far from threatening. Had someone called the police? That must be it. But what if this was just a trick to get her to open the door? She must be careful.
She slipped quietly back to the door, leaned against it and listened as the voice sounded again.” We’re here to help you Ms. Parks. Open the door.”
If she answered the man, for sure he would know she was inside. But then again, he already knew that. She forced herself to speak.” How do I know you’re the police?” Her voice was weak and cracking.
“Look through the peep hole,” the voice answered.
Celia slid her cheek along the side of the door and pressed her eye to the little aperture. There it was directly in front of her. A policeman’s badge held in a large hand. She couldn’t see the man behind it.
“All right,” Celia said meekly as she slipped the dead bolt free and opened the door.
As she stepped back inside her apartment, Ben MacCready stepped into the open doorway, took a step toward her and closed the door behind him.
Vera Porelli rolled over on her back and reached for the phone on the nightstand next to her bed. She was still half asleep, not sure what was happening, but somehow she automatically was responding to the ringing phone without really knowing what she was doing. But by the time she put the receiver to her ear, she was starting to come out of her slumber.” Yeah, what d’ya want?” She mumbled through a yawn.
The voice came on and she suddenly snapped awake. She sat upright and propped the pillow behind her.” Yes. Sure,” she said into the mouthpiece.” I’ll get him.” An urgency was now in her voice and she was fully awake. She shook her husband’s shoulder and he merely rolled away with a mumble. She shook him harder and he fought her off, hugging his pillow.
“Jim. Jim. Wake up,” she shouted.” It’s Frank Porelli. Something’s happened to your mother.”
Jim Porelli rolled quickly away from his pillow, lurching up into a sitting position and grabbing the phone.” What is it, Frank? What’s happened?” He was wide awake.
“She’s all right now,” Father Frank Porelli said at the other end of the line.” She’s here in Buffalo.”
“Buffalo? What’s she doing in Buffalo? Isn’t Deb with her?”
“No, she isn’t. It’s a long story. Your mother wants you to come get her. She’ll tell you all about it when you get here.”
“Sure. Sure,” Jim said rising from the bed, looking for his pants.” As soon as I get dressed, I’ll be right there.” He started to put the phone away, but he heard Frank say,” Jim. I need to tell you where to pick her up.”
“What? Isn’t she there with you?”
“Well, yes. But, we’re not at my place.” He sounded reluctant to tell the whole truth.
“Then where the hell are you?”
Father Frank stammered a bit.” We’re at the jail. Your mother’s been arrested.”
“Arrested,” Jim Porelli boomed.” What the hell for?”
There was a pause at the other end of the line. Frank said,” For. . for flashing, Jim. For flashing.”
“Flashing what?” Jim asked. Then the picture came to his mind. He paused. A long pregnant pause. Then said,” No way! No! You can’t possibly mean that kind of flashing.”
*****
Chapter Twenty Four