Diamond in the Rough: Chapter 41

"Lieutenant McBain, I trust you understand by now the nature of our rules here at Statesville?"

"Yes, sir."  He shook the warden's hand.  "Thank you for making these allowances for me.  It must be in private; I can't risk other inmates knowing I am talking with this guy.  For his safety, ultimately.  Also, you should know, he's got some mental issues."

"Oh?"

"Happens to be phobic.  Of a long list of things.  At times, the fear is completely irrational.  We've had to put him into solitary a few times because of disturbances that were caused because of it."

"What kind of fears?"

"One is definitely insects.  He can't tolerate them at all, not anywhere near him."

"Sounds like every woman in the state."

"This is rather extreme.  To the point of irrationality.  A few other things, kind of weird behaviors."

"Everyone's got their 'thing,'" John said. 

"I'll bring him in momentarily."  The warden left, and John, hoping for some kind of breakthrough, perched himself along the ledge of the only, small and elevated window in the room.  The door opened behind him, and in stepped the warden with a man, not much taller than Natalie, with a series of tattoos and a longish beard.  He was bald, and there was a scar along his head.

John extended a hand to him.  The inmate took it, and then said, "What's in this for me?"

"If you know something that leads to a real breakthrough, something can be arranged.  Somehow."

The warden sniffed, and put his hand to his waist.  "Hmf, I don't know what kind of bargain you're going to make with this one.  He's in for five counts of felony kidnapping and one count of murder.  Got off death row on a technicality."

The warden stepped to the side.  John said, "I'd like to talk with him, alone, if that's possible."

The warden said, "Not advisable, Lieutenant.  But, if you insist, I can make myself scarce for a minute or two."

"Please."  John said.  The blue of his eyes was no match for the blue of the criminal in front of him.  The man's eyes were a crystalline blue that was almost transparent.

John took the lead, sitting down.  The inmate sat opposite him.  John said, "So, I think you know why I am here."

"Yeah, but I don't know what you think I'll be able to tell ya or if I wanna."

"I can work something out, if you give me anything that leads to an arrest or even an answer."

"Why should I trust you, huh?  You're a cop."

John wondered to himself why, at that moment, he wished he had brought Todd Manning with him.  Instead, he went on.  "Yeah?  I'm a person.  A man.  Like you.  You're a man, we both want the same things.  Safety, comforts.  Freedom."

The inmate stared into John's eyes with his own, and said, "I know some things."

John leaned back against the chair.  "Like?"

"My cellmate.  The guy you're interested in,"  he leaned closer, "he's a weirdo."

"How so?"

"He thinks he's like this . . . what's that word . . . prophet or something?  He thinks he's 'The Messenger.'  Creepy, but nuts."

"What does he say about this message?"

"Doesn't make much sense, and sometimes I tune it out.  It's . . . aggravating."

"Makes sense to me, tuning it out."

"He has a couple of weird, like, fascinations."

"Like?"

"He has a thing for some red-head.  She's a cop, too.  Talks about her all the time."

John's ire and disgust was a challenge to push down.  He managed, and said, "Really?"

"Yeah.  Talks about fucking her, and killing her, in his temple.  Whatever."

Mitch had taken a turn to the more crazy, if that were humanly possible.  He knew these fantasties were about Natalie, and he fought to keep the seething anger inside.  He said, after a moment, "Go on."

"He's got other things he likes to think about, and he talks about them at night.  Says things like, 'Oh, Jimmy, you join my followers, and you'll have this and that, you'll be free,' stuff like that.  He says he's going to come into a lot of money.  Going to take someone's fortune out from under him.  These are all his strange fantasies.  He kinda talks them through sometimes.  He thinks he can trust me, I guess."

"So he promised you money?"

"Sorta.  More like, if I joined him, then later I'd be rewarded, that kinda stuff."

"Did you join?"

"Fuck no.  Who wants to be in some fake ass church?"

John shrugged, "Yeah, who wants to.  Anyone in here join?"

"Lotsa guys.  They say they're his followers so they can get money later, if by any chance in hell the fucker's really telling the truth."

"You know what they say, Heed the Messenger."  John said.

"He says that all day.  Anyway, did I give you anything yet?"

"Not yet.  Almost.  About this fortune he's going to steal . . ."

"He's really got it bad for that one.  That red-head, the fortune guy, and his church."

"Who's the guy?"

"Some ex-con, he's the publisher of that newspaper, The Sun?  Him.  Talks about him a lot.  Talks about the guys wife.  How he wants to rape her. . . said he dreams of it."

John swallowed.  "What did he say he was going to do to that guy?  Or how was he planning to get his fortune?"

"He never said that.  He just said his millions would be his and he'd be left with nothing, if his plan worked."

"Did he share the plan with you?"

"No, he just said it was going to work."

"Got one more question for you.  Did he get visitors?"

"Yeah."

John leaned forward.  "He did?"

"Yeah."

"How often."

"Just once in a while.  More often recently, like five or six times in the last few months."

"Did he talk about that?"

"No.  Seemed he wanted to just pretend they never happened."

John wiped his hand across his mouth.  "Really?"

"Yeah.  Once he jacked me up against the wall in the cell because I asked about it and who he was seeing."

"I'm . . . really glad you spoke with me today.  If this leads to something, which I think it will, I'll be in touch.  Of course, I have to find out that I can trust you.  That these are not lies."

"Why would I lie?  Where would it get me?"

"Attention."

"I don't need none of that.  We get plenty in here."

John went out on a limb, "If you think of anything else, call me.  Just ask for the warden and call my office."

"I'll be calling you.  I wanna see if anything I said brings me something in return.  Don't worry, you'll hear from me."

"You know, I don't even know your name," John said.

"Jimmy.  Jimmy Testa."

"Jimmy, all right.  Thanks."  John said, knocking on the inside of the door, which brought the warden.  

"Let's go, Testa."  

John found himself alone in the room and went back to the window. 

***

He froze.  The lightbulb in the ceiling . . . must be Peter's hand pulling that chain.  Chains, and cuffs, where . . . "Damn it!" he said aloud.

"Do you want to talk about something?" Blair said.  "I have to admit, you don't really start a conversation like that often."  

He walked away from her and toward their bedroom.  She followed.  "Todd?"  He went in, and ran the bath.  She stood, watching him.  "You're running the bath.  Is that your way of plying me?"

"Me?  No."


"Well, then, what do you want to talk to me about?"


"Ah, it can wait."


She folded her arms.  "What's wrong?  Are you hiding something from me?"


"I don't do that anymore.  Which is why I told you I have to tell you something without telling you.  That way I am not hiding it.  But it's hard to . . . speak on."


She went back into the bedroom and started to undress.  "So, when are you going to talk to me, then?"


"In a while.  At least you know there's nothing unsaid between us, kind of."


"Your logic amazes me."  She walked back into the bathroom in just her terry robe, and hung it on the back of the door.  She put her foot into the water, and said, "Just right.  You know just how to run these baths now, Mr. Manning."


"I'm an expert at it.  We've been doing it long enough."


"Not really, we're never doing it quite long enough.  I wish it could go on for weeks."


"You know what I meant," he said.  "Haven't you had enough of me today?"  He climbed into the tub and both sat, floating and soaking.  


"I don't think there's ever enough of you.  Haven't you had enough of me today?"


"No.  There's never enough of you either, I'm sure about that.  After going without you so long, I could never get tired of you.  Those dreams about you, making love to me, while I was there.  Sometimes I think they got me through . . .well, stuff."


She touched his face.  The scar was slightly rough under her thumb.  "You're all right, my love.  And here."


He sighed.  "I know.  And that's why I have to ask you, something."


"What is it?"


"I need you to. . . accept me, Blair.  As I am."


"I do, you know that.  I love you very much."


"I mean, fully.  I can't . . .I can't always. . . find ways to tell you what I feel.  I know I can't.  But I know I'll break it if I don't tell you, and I'm done breaking promises."


She got quiet, and sat there, thinking.  The bubbles from the jets were easing both of them into relaxation, and she suddenly realized how tired she was.  This fact ate at her patience.  "You're done breaking promises.  That I get.  But are you done leaving us, Todd?"


He put his hand on her head.  "Babe.  You know I love you, and those children."


"Those children are our children, Todd."


"I know that.  And I love them.  So much."


"I know you do.  I know you love them.  And I know you don't realize what your absence does."


"I'm not going anywhere."


"You could.  If you refuse to deal with what's in your head, you could leave us.  Worse, if you go after Mitch, you are going somewhere.  You're going into the depths of that all-consuming rage that you get, Todd.  That you've dealt with your whole life.  It's like a drug for you, you can't let go of it.  Even when you have the whole world right in your hand, it's not enough."  


She touched his face a moment longer, and then removed her hand, saying, "This could kill us.  All of us.  If those children lose you again, I don't know what will happen, Todd."  She stood, starting to climb out of the tub.  He watched her go.  "You spend all this time recovering from being separated from us. You say how much it hurt you to be away.  I don't know.  It's just that I see it one way."


He said, "Don't stop now, I'm listening."


"It's one thing to leave us because you can't stop it, or it's against your will.  It's another to do something to bring that leaving to us and plunge us into it like we don't matter."  She stepped out onto the bathroom tile floor, and reached for her robe.  Putting it on and pulling it closer around her, she said, "I won't go through it again, and I won't let my kids go through it.  It's time you make a choice."


"So, if I try and get the bastard, and implicate him in a possible crime he committed, after what he did to me, and Natalie, Viki, you're going to leave me?"


"No, Todd, I didn't say that.  I can't even imagine doing that."


He went under the water for a moment, and when he came back to the surface, his hair was slicked back and behind him like wet satin.  He said, "Then, what?  What if I have a plan that's safe?  Something that would take him down, legally.  Or something that would not involve you and the kids? I just want to talk to the guy, see if he knew Jenna's mom."


"Todd, don't you see?  The whole concept of a plan, and 'taking him down.'  What does that mean?  the guy is in prison for life, basically.  How much further down can he be, except to be dead?  And if you're talking about cold-blooded murder, Todd, how can you justify that to your boys, let alone me?"


His face darkened.  "So, would you leave me, or not, Blair?"  he said, getting out of the tub and grabbing a towel.  He wrapped it around his waist and took a smaller one to towel-dry his hair.  


She looked at him, so beautiful in the moonlight of the bath, and turned her head.  "I don't know how I could do that.  But if something happened to you, and you left us again . . ." her voice broke.


"It would be the last time.  Isn't that what you wanted to say?"


"Yes," she cried, "yes, it would be the last time.  I'd have to protect my children, and myself.  We can't do it anymore, Todd.  You have us.  Really have us.  And you have to choose to stay with us,"  she walked to him, and dropping her robe, she put his hands onto her waist.  "You don't need anything else.  You said that, yourself.  Just be with us.  Please."


He swallowed, and pushed his own emotion away, sliding his hands up the sides of her small waist and across her back to bring her to him.  The feeling of her breasts against his chest made him close his eyes.  "I am with you," he said, "I'm never going to leave you again.  I promised Jack, I promised you.   Heck, I think I promised Sam and Starr, too."


"Then that means 'no Mitch.'"


He remained silent.  "He buried me alive, Blair.  He might have that girl's mother."


"That means 'no Mitch,' Todd."


He looked into her eyes.  "That means no Mitch."


Pushing back from his chest, she smiled into his face.  "See, it wasn't so bad.  Revenge is overrated."


"Having you and the kids love me is the most important thing in my life.  Now, kiss me, before I forget the 'No Mitch' part."

***


Tina, sitting up in her bed, knitting, was waiting for just the right time.  I can't believe they won't listen to me.  I know that woman's face.  From somewhere.  I just can't remember where.  She's so familiar to me.  I'm positive I've met her somewhere before.  Oh well, their loss.


Now that her door was unlocked, like the other residents, she realized that she could leave any time she wanted to, and she planned to do just that.  She left it ajar, to bring in a breeze and create the illusion of freedom.  I'll wait until everyone is asleep, and then I'll make a break for it.  If Bea can do it, so can I.  I'll just go through the woods, and into Llanview Center.  Or, wait, is that how to get to Dorians?


She took a ratty map out of her bag.  "Let me see," she said aloud, spreading it open on the bed.  "Where is La Boulaie from here?"


She was examining the map carefully, when unaware to her, Sister Elizabeth Mary had show up at the doorway.  She cleared her throat.  "Good evening, Nurse Ratchet."


Tina took the insult in stride, "Good evening."


"What in heaven's name are you doing?"  she asked.  Her eyes had become slits.


"Looking at a map,"  she feigned ignorance.


"A map.  For what reason?"


"I like to study maps and know where places are."


"You just happened to have a map of Llanview?"


"Well, no, I. . ."


"I'm going to say goodnight, Dear."


"Okay.  Goodnight, Dear."


"See you in the morning," the nun said, closing Tina's door.  Tina listened and then heard the lock engage again, from the outside.  "Damn that Nun!  Okay, Tina, back to the drawing board!"

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