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The Running Girls(43)

Author:Matt Brolly

By the time she reached their apartment, David was back and had already boarded the windows. He was packing and didn’t raise his head as Laurie entered the bedroom, the fallout from their earlier meeting still fresh. “I’ve packed away as much as I can,” he said, not looking up as he zipped shut a suitcase.

“Did you manage to speak to Warren?” she asked, collapsing on the bed. Despite everything that was happening between them, she was already beginning to miss him. It felt like forever since they’d spent any proper time together. She cursed herself for having followed him to the coffee shop that night. How much happier would she be now, she wondered, if she’d just stayed home. David stopped packing and lay down next to her. “We can still leave,” he said, as if reading her mind.

“You are leaving,” she said. “I have the Grace Harrington investigation.”

“Come on, Laurie, that can wait. You don’t need to put yourself in danger’s way because of a homicide investigation. They don’t pay you enough, for one.”

Laurie smiled. “That’s true enough. You haven’t answered me about Warren.”

“He’s as stubborn as you. It looks like none of us are going to leave.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m going to stay around at his place. See if I can keep one of us alive.”

“No,” said Laurie. “That’s not happening.”

“What, so it’s OK for you to stay, and not us?”

“You do know how old he is, David? Not to mention where he lives?”

“He’s just been in a bar brawl, which he won, I might add. I don’t think you need to worry about Warren.”

“I’m worried about both of you.”

“Then let’s all go together. If he sees you’re going, I’m sure he’ll come too.”

They were lying next to each other like nervous teenagers, their bodies not quite touching. Laurie felt bloated and tired, the last time she’d done any exercise feeling like a distant memory. She wanted to reach out and touch him, at the same time wanting to punish him for breaking her heart.

“I can’t,” she said. “They need emergency personnel anyway.” She got to her feet and walked into their living room, where she stopped dead in her tracks.

David followed her out. “There was no room in the locker,” he said, looking, as she was, at Milly’s unused bassinet.

Laurie tried to fight the emotions swirling in her but was unable to stop her knees from buckling. David caught her before she hit the floor. She turned and sobbed in his arms, her tears falling for both Milly and the disastrous state of her marriage. “I’m sorry,” she said at last, pulling away from David, whose eyes had also misted up.

“Come here,” said David, reaching for her.

“We need to pack,” she said, ignoring him.

“Seriously. What’s going on, Laurie? I don’t understand. I know things haven’t been going well for us recently, but it’s like you’ve reached some sort of decision that I’m not part of.”

“Now’s not the time, David. I have too much going on.”

“Oh come on, you always have too much going on. If you’re not working, you’re going on your stupid runs.”

Laurie bent down and touched the bassinet. She’d pictured Milly in it so many times that the fantasy felt like a memory.

David knelt down beside her. “Sorry,” he said, placing his hand on her shoulder.

Laurie felt herself tensing, and David withdrew his hand.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” she said after a long moment, but David had already left the living room.

Ten minutes later, she watched from the window as he drove away, neither of them having said goodbye.

Laurie found some eggs in the fridge and overcooked an omelet, washing down the tasteless dish with a bottle of Lone Star beer that David had left behind. Finding a solitary bottle of red wine in the rack, she took it to the living room and sat down next to Milly’s bassinet. She unscrewed the top, wincing at the acidic smell wafting up from the bottle. It would be easy to drink herself into a brief oblivion, but it wasn’t going to happen. She was already enough of a mess. What she needed was a good sleep, but there was just too much to do. She inhaled the wine’s scent, which seemed less foul to her this time, before resealing the bottle, and answered her cell phone, which had been ringing these last twenty seconds.

“Campbell,” she said, grimacing as she pushed her weakened body off the floor.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am. This is Officer Hall. I’m over at the Randall residence.”

“Frank Randall?”

“Ma’am. We are trying to evacuate Mr. Randall, and his brother, Pastor Randall, but both men are refusing to leave.”

“Can you exert a little authority, Officer Hall?”

“Believe me, I have tried, but they’re—well, Pastor Randall is threatening to sue, and it’s not as if I can tase them and drive them off the island myself.”

“OK, hold tight. I’ll be there shortly.”

If it weren’t for the line of vehicles, their lights illuminating the night sky, it would be easy to forget that the island was on the verge of a hurricane. The darkness hid the rampaging sea and the worst effects of the brutal wind that buffeted Laurie’s car as she drove over to Frank’s place.

It was hard to believe that only a few days ago, such a journey had been a kind of mini-salvation for her. Frank had become a confidant of sorts, a sounding board. Already she missed their chats, and as she parked and used her flashlight to navigate to his house, she wished she was visiting under different circumstances. Although they rarely talked about David, at least beyond his childhood years, she had a sudden urge to tell Frank everything. About Milly and the troubles in their marriage.

She greeted the two uniformed officers stationed outside the house, who informed her that the Randalls’ lawyer had arrived.

“Detective Campbell, nice of you to join us,” said Neil Mosley as she entered the house. Mosely exuded the same confidence—no, call it arrogance—she had encountered at the station, and held her gaze as if testing her resolve. Frank and Maurice were sitting in the armchairs by the fire, Frank glancing over at her before looking away.

Laurie shook hands with the lawyer. “Any particular reason for your visit?” she asked him, fearing she was already in a losing game.

“I could ask you the same question, but that would be churlish,” said Mosley, with an enigmatic smile. “Pastor Randall asked me to pop over. It seems he and his brother are being forced off their property.”

“No one is forcing anyone or anything,” said the uniformed officer who’d accompanied Laurie inside, falling silent as she raised her hand.

“You know there is a hurricane on its way,” said Laurie. “We only want everyone to be safe.”

“Mr. Randall and the pastor have made it perfectly clear they do not wish to leave the sanctuary of their house. I am not really sure why we’re all here, if I’m being totally honest with you.”

“Can we talk outside?” said Laurie.

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