Four-Thirty Girl

Chapter 20 Desperately

T he chill inside the store offset the heat trapped underneath my collar. Placing the bag on my desk, I closed my eyes momentarily, but only when I opened them did I realize I was not alone.

A gruff voice met my ears from behind the long bookshelves. He instructed me to stay still and I would not get hurt. Doing as I was told, I waited for him to step out of the shadows and present himself. However, when his face finally came into view in the dim light, I was more confused by the fact that I did not recognize him.

“Look, I don’t have any money, and honestly, I could care less right now if you killed me, so—”

“Shut it,” he demanded, drawing a gun from his waistband. “I bet you would care if your girl was here.”

My back stiffened at the mere mention of Lauren. The next thought to enter my mind was getting him whatever he wanted, and fast, because if Lauren was to return, I feared the promise in his threat.

“There’s maybe a few hundred dollars in the cash drawer, but we’ve been closed this week.”

The guy laughed as two more voices joined in the sinister mockery. I looked around slowly, curious as to how many others might be waiting, but it was just the two. When I could clearly see their faces, I realized this was no mom-and-pop robbery. Instead, there was something else at hand, something that, although I was not familiar with it, I believed I would soon be filled in on well enough.

I had briefly seen one of the faces before, long enough to remember. The older man, who was still wearing his black suit from the funeral home, was easy to recognize, while the other, who was not familiar, appeared as a younger version.

“So, you were following us,” I said matter-of-factly.

“Well, not initially, at least not until I learned that you were a dear friend of Debbie’s,” the old man offered as an explanation.

“I still am,” I corrected, puffing my chest to show my irritation at his lack of sorrow.

“My apologies,” he added halfheartedly. “Then you should be well aware of why we are here.”

“Actually, no. Besides the fact that you’ve been snooping around the funeral home, following Lauren to her apartment, and...” It was upon another look at the younger man that I realized he too was a familiar acquaintance... one that I had only been privy to through the reflection on my phone the night before. “And sneaking into Ms. Debbie’s house...” I added as the mystery at hand fell into place. The inkling of the pieces fitting together in my head caused the older man to smile.

“Ah, so you finally figured it out?”

I remained quiet for a moment, unsure if I should really answer him—Ms. Debbie’s ex-husband.

“And them?” I asked, still curious as to who the other men were.

“Oh, how rude of me. You see, this is Mike, an old colleague of mine from the FBI. We became more acquainted after we were suspended, for different reasons, of course. And this is Russ Junior.”

“Junior?” I asked.

“Yes, this is my son. And let me guess—Ms. Debbie didn’t tell you she had any children, did she?”

My insides began to boil at the insult to our friendship, but at the same time, I could not help but wonder if she had purposefully left that part of her life a mystery. The topic really never came up, but my mind wandered back to the obituary. If she had been hiding a son, there had to be a good reason. Right?

“Her obituary didn’t list any survivors,” I said, testing his statement.

“It didn’t mention she was married either, yet here I stand, her husband of five years. Let me catch you up to speed on your precious friend,” he continued with a narcissistic tone. “None of what she has told you is true.”

“I doubt that,” I countered.

“Oh really? Then did she tell you anything at all?” he laughed.

In a sense, he was right; Ms. Debbie had led a secret life in most regards, but then, who was he to be trusted?

“Well, I’m sure you’ve read her book.” He looked at me for confirmation before continuing. “Everything in there is completely made up. You see, Willow, or Debbie, as you call her, had a vivid imagination. When she began writing, she said she wanted to write a romance novel. At first, I saw no harm, but she failed to mention the story’s dark nature. That should have been my first clue, because Willow became very secretive with her work. She would never let me read any of her drafts, and she began to write when I was not around. I knew it was probably hard to let someone read her thoughts, so I let her do what she needed. But then, when the book was finally released, I had to go out and buy a copy. By that time, it was too late. All the readers thought it was a portrayal of her actual marriage. You can imagine, being in the FBI, what this led to. My name was ruined, I was put on probation, then quickly fired as the book grew in popularity,” he huffed. “And if that wasn’t enough, later another lie began to circulate about how I was working outside of the FBI.”

When he finally stopped, I looked over to the man with a gun and nodded in his direction. “Then who is he really?”

“He’s exactly who I said before. When I got fired, no one wanted to hire me, so I figured if I did what they said I was doing, then maybe I could make enough money to stay on my feet. After a few jobs, I knew that would never work, and I didn’t want to put Russ in danger.”

“I still don’t see why Ms. Debbie would leave her son.”

“Ah, that’s where things get interesting. When the story first broke, I tried to do what was right. I got an attorney and threatened to sue her for slander. The only problem was she had begun to draw large sums of royalties, so she could afford high-paying lawyers. To my credit, she agreed on shared custody if I would keep the ordeal out of the news. You see, Willow was more concerned with what her readers thought than with her own son.”

I swallowed hard, unwilling to believe Russell’s claims, but if this man was indeed her son, I could not think of a plausible reason for her to abandon him. Turning toward Russ, I took a good look at his face in the light. Most of his traits were from his father, yet his nose and eyes struck an eerie resemblance to Ms. Debbie’s.

“Then what happened?”

“Everything started to fall apart for Willow. Not by my doings, but a news source found out about our deal and began publishing the story. By this point, Willow had made millions, but sales started to decline upon hearing the breaking news. So, in typical Willow fashion, she decided to get out while she could. One night, while I was at work, she set the house on fire and disappeared. Of course, everyone thought that I started the blaze, and she became a martyr of sorts. I knew then that I could never win against someone whom I allegedly killed. There were charges brought against me, and even though I was working as a janitor at this point, I was alone that night, so there was no way for me to clear my name.”

“Where was Russ during all this?” I asked, trying to poke a visible hole in his story. I recalled Ms. Debbie’s statement of their son being shot, but I second-guessed myself about relaying that to him. If he knew that we were aware of his past murder, he would likely be more inclined to do so again.

“Oh, Willow was a master of planning. She had asked her parents to watch him, saying she felt sick and wanted to try and sleep it off.”

“Then why were her parents or Russ not listed as survivors?”

“You’re forgetting what she was up to. Willow wanted to disappear out of the spotlight. In doing so, she didn’t want reporters snooping around her family and asking questions. She played the poor-pitiful-me victim card, and I got stuck holding the bag.”

“What if I said I don’t believe a word and that Ms. Debbie would never do such a thing?”

Russell smiled and stepped closer to me, displaying a vibe of craziness mixed with determination. “What if I said I could prove it to you right now?”

Pulling an envelope from his pocket, Russell produced a collection of papers that he unfolded and handed over. “I have another copy; you can keep this one if you like.”

My eyes fell over the letters as I hurried to see what could possibly support the obscurity of his story. However, in bold print, read the words “Last Will and Testament of Lois Debra Collins.” Below the heading resided her wishes that nothing be left to her family, including her ex-husband Russell and their son, Russ, and all remaining assets were to be deeded to... me.

Blinking a few times, I refocused on my name. “Everything?” I asked.

“Yes, millions.”

I began to nod my head as the split second of joy departed to the numbing thought as to why Russell now stood before me. “So, you’re here for your share?”

“Now you’re catching on.”

“And how is that supposed to work?”

An odd-shaped grin came across his mouth as he began to divulge his well-thought-out plan. “That’s simple enough. As you may or may not know, Willow had many different aliases over the years. She was always afraid that someone would find her and discover how she faked her death. So, whenever she got antsy, she would change her name and transfer all the money to a new account. I have to admit she was no idiot, because even with my background, it took me until this year to finally find her again.”

“That’s another thing,” I interrupted, holding up my hand. “How did she just change her name after faking her death? Wouldn’t that be a felony?”

Smirking at my question, Russell obliged me with an answer. “Ah yes, but is it really? When you tell as many lies as she does, it’s hard to keep up, but Willow filed for the witness protection program before her supposed death. I have a pretty high ranking in the bureau, so all she had to do was play her mind games and she was admitted as a way to protect herself from me.”

“But why the fire, then?”

“She wouldn’t want to just disappear from her fans, now, would she? Keep in mind that Russ would have been granted entry into the program, but she decided not to take him.”

“That doesn’t make sense, though. What mother wouldn’t want their child?”

“Exactly. And now you are seeing who Willow really was.”

I still wanted to believe that Ms. Debbie was not this Willow that Russell portrayed, but then and there, I had no reason to believe anything. All I needed was to get them on their way and try to pick up the pieces of my own life.

“Okay, so what is it going to take for me to not have to see you three ever again?”

“Now you’re talking. As I was saying before, Ms. Debbie had multiple accounts, and as it appears, she made a final one where you are listed as a co-owner. All I need is for you to add me to the account, and we can take care of it from there.”

“What about her house or the bookstore?” I asked before really considering the stupidity of the question.

“You can have them.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, Willow took out loans for each and owes a substantial amount. That’s just another little ploy of hers to make people think she was someone she’s not.”

“Alright, whatever,” I huffed. “Let’s just go and get this over with,” I said, turning toward the door, but at that moment, we all saw what I had hoped I would not. Standing in front of us was Lauren, pacing the entrance as if deciding to knock.

“Don’t be rude,” Mike gestured. “You should answer the door first.” Pushing the gun into my side, he gave me a nudge upon my resistance. I had no idea how to try and warn her, but I needed to think of something, quick.

I braced myself for the worst, watching Lauren talk to herself while navigating the outside doormat. When I reached the entrance, I unlatched the lock, which sparked her attention enough to stop pacing. It was then I made the only attempt I had to ensure her safety. Pushing back the door, I yelled for her to run. Whether from fear or surprise, Lauren merely froze, giving Mike enough time to snatch her inside.

From that moment until I felt the brashness of the gun collide against my head, it felt like a single second, but the darkness that followed was a sleep that gave no rest.

My mind refocused on the smoothness of Lauren’s hands stroking my face. I was relieved to know she was by my side, but as her tears only stopped to show her elation for my well-being, I became worried.

“What did they do to you?” I asked.

“Nothing yet...” she began. “They locked us in the backroom so we couldn’t try to escape.”

“Did they say anything to you?” Lauren became silent, and her smile started to fade. “What is it?”

“I... ugh,” she began, but the words she was about to speak were cut short as the door began to open. Caught off guard, I closed my eyes, pretending to still be knocked out, hoping to buy us more time. In a sense, it worked, but not as I had envisioned.

“He’s still cold?” I could hear Russ ask.

“Ugh... yeah,” Lauren offered, playing along as best she could.

“Try and wake him up. We need to get moving. When he does come to his senses, give us a knock on the door.”

“Okay,” she uttered.

“Oh, and about Mitchell—make sure you do as we say. It would be terrible for him to lose his mother, seeing that I am already out of the picture.”

The door closed without any furthering of the conversation. With the click of the latch, I cast my eyes wide open to find worry and horror across Lauren’s face.

“You have a kid... with him?” I exclaimed, lifting my head from her lap.

“It’s not what you think,” she said in a whisper, trying to coax me to keep my voice down.

“Oh, then what is it? I saw you put the ring on when you left, but now it seems like you’ve been playing me from the other side.”

“Not at all, Joshua.”

“Please,” I said, put off by the sound of my name coming from her mouth.

“Let me explain,” she pleaded. “I didn’t know.”

“Oh sure,” I mocked.

“Honest. I wasn’t aware of anything they were doing. And yes, we have a child together, but we are separated.”

“Then why on earth would you be wearing his ring?”

“It’s complicated.” Shame hid in the depths of her admittance, yet I had no reason to believe she was sorry.

“So you’ve said, many times, but I think I deserve an explanation now.”

“Yeah, you do,” she sighed. Defeat filled her voice, and her body slouched as she lowered her head, as if aching from inside her stomach. “I met Russ when I was still living out West,” she started. “We both shared broken homes, which is how we initially clicked. It didn’t take much for him to convince me to leave our troubles behind and start a new life together. Being young, dumb, and in what I thought was love, we got married within a few months, and I ended up pregnant unexpectedly. At first, everything was fine and I thought we were going to be a happy family of three, but that all changed in the last trimester.” Lauren paused, as if to gauge my reaction.

“Go on,” I said, letting her know I was listening.

“Well, we went in for a few tests to make sure the baby was healthy, and that’s when we found out that he wasn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“The doctor ran the typical blood work, but when it came back, they told us there was a 70 percent chance that Mitchell would be special... the kind that would require care his entire life and never grasp normal social skills. It was at that point that Russ began to change. He wanted me to abort the baby and ‘cut our losses’ as he put it.”

“What did you say?” I asked, unsure of where the conversation might lead.

“I told him there was no way I was giving up my child. He threatened to leave me, but I stood firm on my decision. I guess he figured he would wait around and see which percentage won out. To our surprise, Mitchell initially appeared as a normal baby, but after the first couple of years, it became apparent that he was special. During that time, the amount of care required for him proved to be a real hindrance to our marriage, and finally one day, Russ came home from work and said he was leaving.”

“Lauren, that’s terrible,” I said, attempting to console her, but she did not show any reaction through her blank stare. “And how is Mitchell taking all of this?”

“Ha. Mitchell doesn’t like change at all. He can pick up on the most subtle differences, and when that happens, he goes into an inconsolable fit.”

“Like how?”

“When his dad said he was leaving, Mitchell spent a week screaming and crying for him. I tried to tell our son that Russ would be back and that he just had to go away for a while, but he didn’t believe me and the change just made him panic. It was only then that I noticed how important it would be to keep everything else in his life the same.”

“Everything?” I asked.

“Yes, everything.”

“Then where is he now?”

Lauren drew in a long breath, allowing herself to admit the pretense in which this week had passed. “With school having breaks throughout the year, I noticed he didn’t do well staying at home, so I enrolled him in a special needs camp that provides the same interactions he experiences at school. It just so happens, with this being spring break, that he’s gone this week.”

“Oh, I see.”

“And I know you said you saw my ring. I never wear it in public, or at work, but when I’m around Mitchell, I put it on so that he doesn’t ask any more questions about his father. I can only imagine what would happen if I told him Russ had left us for good.”

I began to think back on our time together, and never once had I seen her with a ring when she first started coming to the bookstore. Lauren’s story was making sense, and so was something else.

“Is that why you started coming to the store?”

“Yes,” she said with a long sigh. “I started stopping here after Russ left. It was like my only reprieve during the week. I could skip my lunches on Wednesday, stop by the store, be back to pick him up on time, and...” she paused, but I had already put the pieces together.

“And that’s why you’re Four-Thirty Girl.”

“Exactly.”

“Is he okay?” Lauren looked at me with confusion. “Mitchell, I mean. Wasn’t that him on the phone?”

“Yes, he was having another episode, but the camp called back before I got there and said they were able to calm him down. I figured it would be best to turn back around, because if he saw me, it would throw off his entire week.”

Lauren laid her head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. I could only imagine what might be running through her head. However, right now, we were stuck and needed a way out.

“Do you think if I comply with them, Russ will leave us alone?”

“Probably. All he cares about is the money, not me or Mitchell. But are you sure you want to throw away millions of dollars so they will disappear?”

“Yeah, but only if it means I get to be with you.”

A slight blush hued the softness of her cheeks, while the sweetness of her smile teased her lips. Lifting her head, Lauren leaned in and kissed me, then cuddled her face into my shoulder. “I’m not worth that much, you know.”

“Well...” I joked, only to receive a playful slap on the arm. “It’s not about the money. I can be content and broke, but without you, nothing would make me happy.” I hugged Lauren tighter, assuring her my words were true.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

She exhaled a long sigh, either from relief or trying to settle her nerves for what she was about to say. “Are you ready then?” she asked.

“Yeah, we might as well get this over with.”

Rising from my grasp, Lauren gave a knock on the door. Within a few seconds, Russ appeared, pleased that I was awake.

“If I get you the money, will you leave me and Lauren alone?” I asked.

“Look, all I want from you is what’s rightfully mine. As for Lauren, I’m ready to disappear and not have to worry about supporting them.” Lauren sank away from the door, pained by the brutality of his words. How he or she ever loved each other, I may never know, but then again, maybe they never truly did. “I have everything I need except your social—”

“That’s it?” I asked.

“Yeah. I’ve already tracked down the account information that was set up in your name. All I need to do now is create an online account, add a third user, then I can transfer the money.” The plan seemed so simple, but my question still seemed to seek an explanation.

“Then why are you here?”

“I would have had it and been on my way, but I left in a hurry the other night,” he recalled to resolve the confusion.

“Of course,” I murmured. “And if I give it to you, there will be no funny business, right?”

“Like I said, I just want what’s mine.” I looked at Lauren, then nodded my head. “And a copy of your license,” he continued, “just in case. I’d rather not have to revisit the two of you.”

Fishing my wallet from my pocket, I handed over my ID and recalled my social security number. Satisfied, Russ turned for the door, locking us inside while he made a copy of my license.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Lauren asked.

“Honestly, I don’t see any other options, and it’s best to do whatever is needed to make them leave.” I gave her a hug, kissing her on the forehead, but our embrace was cut short with the clicking of the door. To my surprise, it was Russell, accompanied by Mike.

“Oh, how sweet,” Russell poked. “Russ, this guy is hot for your girl.”

To the call of his name, Russ reappeared from around the corner, but instead of appearing upset, he seemed pleased. “He can have her. She may seem cute with all that makeup, but she’s nothing but a slut,” he blurted the heartless jab, one which he likely had pinned to her before. “I mean, everyone knows there’s no way I could have fathered a retarded kid.”

I could feel Lauren’s heart shattering, broken by the grip he seemed to have on her soul through their son.

“Stop!” I demanded. “I’ve had enough of you talking trash about Lauren.”

“Don’t worry; she’s fun, but just don’t get caught up in the action,” he laughed.

Furious, my body lunged toward Russ, and Mike stepped in to intercede. With a jolt to the side, I attempted to push around but was met with the tip of his gun. Driving the heel of my palm into Mike’s arm, my attempt to knock the gun away caused Mike to fumble, leaving us to wrestle for control. But it was then that I felt the hard metal crash into my body as a loud explosion rang in my ears. The mix of noise and pain lasted only a few seconds, followed by darkness, then nothing.