“I’m sorry Dickie didn’t get your message in time. I left three or four messages for him to call me, but he was in a meeting or something. I’m sorry you were left in that situation.” Maggie looked over at Cam, who sat rigidly on the couch in her office.
“Don’t be sorry, Maggie.” Cam shook her head. “It’s over. There’s nothing that can correct it. It was last-minute: We both tried. I’m more worried about what happened last night.”
“What do you want to do about it?”
Cam shook her head. She should have known that Maggie would get right to the point.
“I just needed to tell someone,” Cam said quietly. “I’m at a loss. I think that drug really did something to my confidence. I just don’t trust myself anymore.” She’d just told Maggie everything she remembered that had happened to her in the past few days.
“The drug could have something to do with it. Do you want to see a doctor?” Maggie asked.
Cam shook her head. “No. Karen said it would wear off, I guess. And whatever I said while I was on it didn’t seem to make a difference. Sonya hasn’t treated me any differently. I guess I’ll just have to be twice as careful.”
Maggie scribbled a few circles in her notebook. She didn’t quite know what to write. She’d never seen Cam like this. Should she be more concerned? Was it just the drug that was wearing off?
“Do you want to pull the plug?” she asked carefully.
“No,” Cam said quickly, with a frown. “I’m too far in to quit now. I’ve almost been killed three times in three days and two men are dead because of me. I want to find out who’s behind all this and get back at that damned lawyer. It’s more personal now. I should have been prepared for that. I asked for water just because I didn’t trust drinking with him. I was an idiot; I didn’t trust him but I still trusted him. Does that make sense? Tell me it makes sense.”
Maggie didn’t answer. She just watched Cam go through her changes.
“I don’t like who I am, Maggie,” Cam finally announced. “I’ve become everything I swore I’d never be. I’m rude and I enjoy being mean. I’m not a happy person. I’m racist, sexist, and God knows what else. I have a low tolerance for straight women talking about their homes and families, I can’t remember when I liked anyone who’s a politician and I trust absolutely no one.”
“Then why are you here telling me this?” Maggie asked.
“Because I’m going crazy!” Cam rammed her hands into her thighs and stood abruptly. “I don’t even trust myself, the way I’m thinking. I enjoyed killing Will! It made me sick to my stomach to see the carnage, Steve’s brains lying all over the place, but I got a big rush watching Will die. What am I becoming?!”
She walked over to the window and stared out onto the city. Nothing seemed to please her today.
“Tell me this,” Maggie said, skirting Cam’s question, “How do you feel about Sonya?”
Cam looked up at her, a look of dismay on her face. She hesitated, then took a deep breath.
“I’m not in love with her, if that’s what you’re asking. I like the way she thinks. I’m constantly amazed by all the things she can do.” Cam sat down in the chair and leaned back to think more about it. “The intimacy isn’t there the way it is with Michael. I’d never trust her with some of the things Michael brings out in me. But I’m…intrigued.”
Cam sat back down, leaned forward again, her elbows on her knees, her chin on her clasped fists. She scanned the floor as if the answer was written there.
“What do you like most?” was Maggie’s next question.
“Like?” Cam said thoughtfully, “The way she is, the way she lives. She has everything organized. She always knows just where everything is, how much she has of it, where to get more. She has limits that she doesn’t extend. Everything is hung up, put away, cleaned off and tidy. God, Maggie. She has the type of things I should have. Well, not the Jag; I’d never buy a Jag. But a real place to live, good clothes, appliances! I’m almost thirty six years old and I’m still living out of boxes with furniture from the Salvation Army thrift shop.”
“Well, sweetie, that’s the decision you made. You have the money now. Maybe you should get a house somewhere, buy yourself these things.”
Cam frowned. “I’m still an undercover agent. I can’t be tied down to a house.”
Maggie sighed and sat back to let Cam work things out in her mind.
“I think I’m attracted to Sonya because she’s so “on top” of everything. She seems to take care of everyone in the bar. They depend on her.”
“Does that remind you of anyone?” Maggie thought she might have found the answer.
When Cam didn’t answer, Maggie continued, “Is it the way she keeps her house? You mentioned that several times. The way she takes care of you?” She waited. Cam hadn’t moved.
“Are you saying she’s like me? Always taking care of the neighborhood?” she asked. Cam looked up. “Or are you saying that I’m transferring my feelings to her from my grandmother?”
“No, I’m not saying that. But you have gone through a very deep loss quite recently. You might want to take a look at that. You did say that you talked about your grandmothers last night. Grandma Chris was a big loss for you. It’s quite normal to have that on your mind on several different levels. The deaths of those two men and being so close to death yourself could add to that. And…you might find that being taken care of for once is a nice change from taking care of everyone else.”
“Is it that simple?”
“No,” Maggie continued, “nothing is that simple, but it could answer a lot of questions for you. Sometimes just being held relieves a lot of the grief. Have you cried for Grandma Chris?”
“No, I’ve been working,” Cam said, shaking her head. “I haven’t had time.”
“Well, you will, when you least expect it. That’s part of the grieving process.”
Cam nodded her head thoughtfully.
“And Karen Amos?” Maggie was intent on getting all of Cam’s ghosts out in the open.
Cam began to tap her foot. This had been a long, long day. Why was Maggie driving her like this? Well, let’s get it over with.
“I’ll probably have to meet with her when this is over and get some closure to our relationship. It’s been nine years but we never really said good-bye.” How do you say good-bye to someone who walks out and won’t return your phone calls or accept your letters?
“Am I going crazy? Has this drug messed up my mind? It’s a good thing I’m not PMSing!” Cam was distraught. “Why did this have to happen now?”
Maggie watched as Cam tried to get control of her emotions.
“You’ll be fine. Just remember Charlie’s rules and what we’ve all taught you. Use your instincts; they’re good. Remember that you wouldn’t have gotten this far if they weren’t.”
After a minute, Cam said, “Is that a pep talk?” She smiled.
“I guess it is.” Maggie was pleased and relieved to see Cam smile again. “Now what are you going to do? Do you still want to confront this lawyer?”
“Yes,” Cam assured her. “And I’ll be very careful this time.”
“Good. I’ll have Dickie do another file on him and his assistant. I’ll let you know when I get some information.”
Cam nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll think about how I’m going to do it. I won’t give him the chance to sneak up on me again. And—” she smiled broadly, “—I’ll definitely be alert, in control, detached and unemotional, because I don’t trust him and I’m prepared for anything.”
Maggie laughed. “That’s what I needed to hear! Now, pick up that box of your things and get out of my office before I have to make another scene.”
* * * *
Cam set the box down on the big overstuffed chair that looked sadly small and dingy in this new apartment. In some ways she was glad that she hadn’t let Sonya talk her into throwing it out, but it really didn’t look good in here. If she stayed here, she’d have to think about either getting it re-upholstered or replaced.
She shook her head. How could she ever part with it? It had been through so much with her. She’d upholstered it herself when she’d first found it in that second-hand store where she’d shopped to replace the things she had to leave at Karen’s. She’d searched for days, looking for a material that resembled the chair in her mom’s study. Now it had the feel of that chair. It was just like the one she had curled up in to watch and listen to Mom write her articles and speeches for the League of Women Voters. She could never get rid of it.
She and Pauly had struggled up a flight of stairs to get it into her old apartment in Bolton Hill, one more flight into her apartment in Canton, and now here it sat.
Poor little chair, she thought, “trying to take the place of Mom’s chair. Slowly, tears started to flow. Just like Sonya is taking Grandma Chris’s place. Grandma Chris! Why did you have to go and die now? Now, when we were just getting to really know each other!
How many other things do I have that are filling in for something? What do I have to get to replace all the things I’ve lost? Damn Maggie! Why did she bring this up?!
And Michael…and Pauly…Where the hell are they when I need them?
Mom! I’m not sure I can do this anymore!
Cam pushed the box off onto the floor and sank down into the chair and cried.
* * * *
“Cameron…Cameron…”
She could hear the voice trying to wake her. She shook her head and looked up. “What’s wrong?” she asked, sitting up quickly.
“Nothing, chica,” Sonya said, sitting back on her knees. “I thought something was wrong with you. You look like you’ve been crying. I thought maybe you were sick or high again.”
Cam rubbed her eyes and straightened herself in the chair.
“I guess there’s just been too much happening these past few days. That drug must have done something to my emotions. I just had a nervous breakdown. I’ve been crying about everything. I’ve been crying about getting rid of this damned chair!”
“Well, if it means that much to you, we’ll just have to get a couch to match it,” Sonya said as she looked around the nearly empty room.
“Oh, don’t try to cheer me,” Cam said with a grin. She rubbed her face. Tears were dried to her cheeks. “I must be a mess.” She stood and stumbled into the bathroom to blow her nose and wash her face.
“I saw that your bike was in the garage so I came in,” Sonya called loudly so that Cam could hear her over the running water. “And I picked up dinner on the way home.” She picked up the two Styrofoam boxes from the floor where she’d set them when she’d seen Cameron curled up on that chair. “Wes made coffee-flavored cheesecake today. It’s topped with a hazelnut sauce and, believe it or not, it’s a big hit at the restaurant.”
Cam laughed as she walked back into the room, drying her hands on a towel. “Maybe we should patent it. We could make millions…all on non-heroin coffee.”
“Don’t laugh. We’ve got to make our money back some way.”
“Have we heard from Alan today?”
Sonya nodded. “He left a message on the machine. I’ve got to call him back in the morning. He sounded good. He said he had good news.” She placed the food boxes on the counter between the kitchen and dining room, then walked around to get dishes from the cabinets.
“Good. I’d like to get all this stuff out of the way. I want to get back at Bradford,” Cam said, stretching.
“Should I know what you’re going to do?” she asked.
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do.” She sighed, “but you’ll be a big part of it. I think maybe Mr. Bradford should get a replacement shipment of the heroin. After all, he was the one who realized it was missing. Let me take a shower. Then I’ll tell you,” Cam said.
“Eat first. Then take that shower,” Sonya said, pushing the plates across the counter to her. She also pushed one of the take-out boxes to Cam. “This stuff is lousy reheated.”
Cam took the box to the new table she’d just bought for the apartment. The round white table and the four matching chairs had been delivered at the beginning of the week, but this was the first chance she’d had to use them.
“It smells good. What do we have? I smell garlic.”
“Shrimp scampi,” Sonya replied.
Tears threatened to flow. Damn! she thought. That had been one of Ben’s favorites. Cam held the tears back.
“Don’t you like scampi?” Sonya asked, seeing Cam’s expression.
“I was just feeling sorry for the poor little shrimp who had to give their lives for this,” Cam quipped.
“Well, if you feel sorry for the shrimp, think of all the calves that had to give up their breakfast for the cheesecake. We could be crying for weeks,” Sonya responded.
Cam shook her head. “No, I think someone else will be crying for weeks. And he won’t be thinking about coffee cheesecake either.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking of doing.” Sonya sat down with her plate and food. “And how much will this cost me?”
“Oh, you won’t have to pay anything. Mr. Bradford will be paying for it.”
“Cameron.” Sonya set her fork down. “What in the world possessed you to go to his office last night? Didn’t you tell us in that meeting to let it be a surprise? Why did you go there?”
Cam looked at her thoughtfully. “I just had a gut feeling that he’d make a move if he thought he was going to be watched.”
“Well, he certainly made a move, didn’t he?” Sonya said heatedly. “And you almost weren’t around to see it.”
“I know it sounds foolish, but I had my reasons. He just might make the wrong move if he’s pushed too hard. I think he’s going to be in for a big surprise.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking!”
“No. I need to check something with Alan when you call him back. Then we can finalize our revenge on Mr. Bradford.” Cam winked at her.
Sonya scowled in mock anger at her. “Cameron, tell me what you’re thinking. Don’t make me fire you.” She pouted.
Cam grinned. “If you fire me you won’t get to be a part of this.”
Sonya banged her fist on the table.
“You’ll get indigestion if you get angry while you eat,” Cam said smugly. “Any change in Nick’s condition?”
“Don’t change the subject.” Sonya scowled. “No, there hasn’t been any change.” She picked up her fork and took a bite of scampi. She looked into Cam’s face, trying to figure out what Cam was thinking as she calmly sat there and ate her shrimp.
“If I didn’t know you better, I’d almost think you got more than your clothes when you went to your Dr. Maggie’s today,” she said with scowl.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. The only other thing I got was this realization that we had to get back at Bradford. Now just trust me for a few minutes. We can think it all out in a little while.” She had to put Sonya off until she talked to Alan. She could think this through better in the shower. She always thought best in the shower, especially after a good meal. Or she could go for a walk. That always helped, too.
She dug into the scampi. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was. When was the last time she ate? She thought back. It had to have been that soup that Wes made for her. Did she ever eat it all? She couldn’t remember. She hadn’t been able to stomach anything this morning and she’d gone to Bradford’s yesterday before dinner. That would be thirty-six hours or more without food. She really hadn’t eaten in two or three days. No wonder she was being so emotional.