Chapter 12

By the time I make it back to the city it’s past six o’clock, so I decide to skip going to the office and head home. I am hurting more than I want to admit. Landing on my butt from five feet up has taken its toll and all I want to do is take some ibuprofen and soak in a tub of hot water. I take off my hoodie and hit the button for maximum air in my Edge. While I wait for the air to cool the car, I listen to my voice mail.

There are several messages on my phone that Myrtle has forwarded. One is from Marie asking how everything went, another is from Will, who for some reason feels it necessary to tell me he has found a fantastic chili dog place in New Jersey and wants to take me there for lunch sometime, and one is from a man who suspects his wife, a middle school principal, is cheating and wants me to nail her. The last one is from Giles, a sultry, foreplay-like message to let me know he's thinking about me. This is my life; chilidog dates, cheating spouses, and sweet Giles.

I put business before anything else and call the potential client from my Bluetooth Sync. I leave a message asking him to please make an appointment to see me within the next couple of days. Then I call Marie and tell her that all went well but that I didn't find any lock for the key.

“Mr. O’Leary is something else. He gave me Irish coffee and raisin bread. Oh, and, before O’Leary tells you, I fell out of the tree in your yard, but I’m fine.”

“Oh, Cate, I’m sorry! But what were you doing in the tree?”

“It’s a long story, honey. Private investigators tend to do weird things to get information. Don’t ask.”

“Okay. I’m glad you’re alright. I hope Mr. O’Leary didn’t talk your ear off. My dad used to say he was a pip, whatever that is.”

“No, he was very interesting.” I don’t tell her what he said about the day Josh went missing. I want to see her personally for that.

“I guess I’ll hang up now. I have to clean up and close the shop soon.”

“I’m heading home now so I’ll talk to you another time, Marie. Call me whenever you want, whether it’s business or not.”

“Oh, thanks, I, I will! ‘Bye.”

I debate calling Will then decide that that can wait until tomorrow. Giles I’ll call or text later. I’m beat.

Traffic is a bitch and I don’t make it home until nearly eight. I’m achy and tired. As I’m putting the key into my door, I hear music coming from my living room. There’s a note on the inner door from Giles.

There’s a quiche in the oven and beer in the ‘fridge. I’ll try to come back later. Had to go back to work for an hour or two. Giles

Giles likes what he refers to as Zen music. He says it helps him to relax and I have to say that it does have a soothing effect after several hours spent listening to the city noise. I limp slowly to the bathroom discarding my clothes on a dining room chair. I definitely need that long soak in my big bathtub. I decide to drink the remaining contents of the thermos while I’m soaking.

In the bathroom I twist my neck to look at my rear in the mirror. I’m bruised but not too badly. The back of my left thigh has a hematoma and the flesh above my tailbone looks as if I had a small, lopsided dark blue tattoo placed there. I run a hot bath and throw in a couple of capfuls of lavender scented bath salts. Then I take two over-the-counter pain relievers and slurp cold water from the bathroom sink spigot to swallow them. I smile remembering the paper cup dispenser Marie had in her bathroom. I can never be that organized.

The Zen-inspired music combined with the hot water and soothing bath salts work their magic. I unscrew the cap of the thermos, sip slowly and close my eyes. Once Mr. O’Leary’s concoction kicks in I begin to feel better. Turning the water off, I let my thoughts wander and I think about the day, about Marie, and about old Mr. O’Leary, about the key and potential hiding places for locked up treasures. Then I think about Saturday night and Will; seeing him dressed for dinner in a nice social setting. He is a bastard, but he’s a hot bastard. Will...me...Will....

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know, someone is kissing my hair and telling me to be careful when I stand up. I keep my eyes closed. He’s wrapping me in a soft bath towel and gently rubbing me dry. It feels so good to be in his arms and I want to tell Will that he can stay with me tonight, that I want him to stay. I hear, “Alright, now let me get you to bed.”

And I open my eyes to see Giles smiling at me. “Hello Catherine.”

****

The sound of Giles’s cell phone buzzing wakes me I hear him in the kitchen and smell coffee brewing. I’m naked. The Smartphone clock says it’s going on nine. Oh boy, did I sleep!

“Giles, your phone is buzzing,” I shout as I swing my legs over the side of the bed and wince when I stand up. “Ow! Damn!”

“You okay?” Giles comes in with a cup of hot coffee. “I checked your bruises and you’ll be fine in a few days. The tailbone is a sensitive area, sort of the funny bone of the butt, and you must have slammed down on it pretty hard. You’re just really sore right now. You said you fell out of a tree.”

“Didn’t I tell you the whole story?” I ask gratefully reaching for the cup.

“Nope, you were zonked out, my darling girl. You were too tired to even eat. Kind of like that time you played three sets of mixed doubles to raise money for that charity event of Myrtle’s.”

“Was I too tired for anything else?”

“I don’t think that’s possible for you. You were a great participant last night.”

“Tell me that I shouldn’t climb trees anymore and maybe I’ll tell you why I was up a tree in the first place.”

He grabs his phone and says, “Don’t climb trees anymore,” kisses me, and calls the morgue.

While he’s on the phone I walk to the bathroom slowly to get my blood moving. I take two more pain pills, slurp from the spigot again, and sit down on the toilet seat. Sitting hurts.

A half hour later, fresh from a shower and shampoo and, dressed in a large towel, I head for the kitchen and more coffee. Giles has heated up a nice wedge of quiche and I breakfast standing up looking out of my window at the traffic. Little Guy and Mouse sit on the sill of the open window, tails flicking slowly, ears and eyes alert for any danger.

Giles is in the bedroom waiting for me with an after-breakfast treat and I am wide-awake.

****

“Let’s walk over to my car Father. I want you to meet my friend. I’ve told him all about you.”

“Alright, Joey, I’d like that. Is that your car? It’s very nice.”