Parkers Island Ch. 01

The sound of Shelby laughing down the phone worried me greatly. I had little doubt I would find out the meaning of her remark in the coming days.

*******

It was a car braking sharply to a halt that took me to the window that overlooked the street. The way she got out and slammed the door told me even more, and that was one angry lady walking towards my house. The banging on my door gave me the clearest hint of all that she was pissed off, and she came crashing through the door the second I released the catch. I'm sure her thought was to catch me unprepared: she failed.

When she turned to lunge at me I threw the glass of water at her and quickly dropped the glass before shoving my shoulder into her stomach, pushing her hard against the drywall and up a foot above the floor. Any air she had in her lungs left her right about then. Once I was sure I had a couple of seconds before she could regain her momentum, I lifted her over my shoulder and slammed her onto the couch face first. Self-preservation and old habits meant my knee into her back soon followed, as I grabbed her wrists and handcuffed her.

I'm sure the irony of the situation would pass her by; for now, at least. I went and picked up the glass and got myself some more water while I sat and waited. Soon it turned into a staring competition. Judging by the weight over my shoulder I would say a hundred and twenty, maybe twenty five pounds; the hair was a natural brunette since the eyebrows matched. Brown eyes and some freckles across her nose and cheeks. The summer dress had ridden up to the top half of her thighs and showed nice legs.

My mouth opened to say something; the scream from her got to me first.

"I've been suspended for a week, by order of the Sherriff, and yet he doesn't even know why he has to suspend me."

So now I knew the message Shelby was handing down to my new found friend.

"Deputy Amelia Randell, or Em to your friends: you're twenty-seven and a Capricorn, love flowers and, much to your folks' consternation, your favorite color is Teal. Joined the department three years ago and are well on track to take over from the Sherriff when he retires in four years' time. Grew up on the island, yet you now live on the mainland. One brother who is at college and, until he hooked up with his present girlfriend, was a straight A student."

The staring competition continued for a moment longer. I took another sip of my water and placed it back on the table next to me. Leaning forward and placing my elbows on my knees made her watch me more closely.

"You came to my home and wished to vent your anger; fine, that's done. I will remove the cuffs now and let you leave, or you can stay for lunch. Over which I will tell you a story; after, you yourself get to decide how much you're going to tell Carol Burnett's family."

"Special Forces?"

I smiled as I rose out of my chair and unlocked the cuffs, keeping them close by just in case.

"Gosh, no! I'm a geek."

She waited a moment and then sat up, rubbing her wrists in the process. The muscles in her legs gave her away: Amelia led with her right foot and she charged once again. Her hands made it around my neck, but only so I could grab the top half of her dress and place my knee on her stomach while I pushed back on my other foot. The chair went backwards, and poor Amelia went clean over the top landing on her back.

When she sat up the teal bra showed itself through the torn material of her dress.

"You think you're a man because you enjoy beating up on a woman."

The click of the front door shutting made me look up.

"No, you dumb bitch! He's keeping you alive. Put your ego to bed and listen to him, or you will never get a second chance because I won't allow it."

Amelia pointed directly at the woman standing by the door, and yet asked me the question.

"And who the fuck is that: the wife?"

Shelby pouted, something I had never seen before.

"Oh, please! Give me some credit for taste. Not only that, my husband has a bigger dick than he has."

Feeling somewhat put out by the bigger dick remark, I placed my hands to my chest and, with my most cheesy actor's impression, said, "But sweetheart! What about Paris? Did I mean nothing to you?"

Shelby snorted and walked towards the kitchen. Amelia simply sat on the floor as her gaze moved between the two of us.

"You're an ass. You couldn't find Paris with a rope and a flashlight to guide you and, if you did, it would no doubt be Paris in Texas; not France."

This time Shelby looked towards Amelia who was still sitting on the floor.

"You staying for lunch, or you leaving?"

This time she got up. "Leaving."

Shelby shrugged and started to pour water into a pan as Amelia walked to the door, holding onto her dress at the same time. Her hand had made it to the door when Shelby spoke again.

"Oh, if you're thinking of coming back with guns blazing I removed the artillery from your car before I came in. You can have it back when you show me your permit."

I picked up the chair while the girls had their heart to heart.

"You can't do that! I could arrest you for theft; I'm a fucking Deputy."

Ever the kind-hearted soul, Shelby just couldn't resist. "You're also suspended and, since you have chosen to leave rather than hear him out, I will tell you this: you will cease and desist from all enquiries regarding this man immediately, or I will make it my mission to totally fuck up your life."

Amelia looked towards me, her mouth open, and still unsure if she was hearing right. I nodded my head.

"She's fucked my life up for the last eight years, and I know her. Can you imagine what she can do with yours? And she doesn't even know you."

Shelby turned back to the sink, but the smile had already started to grow across her lips by then. Amelia paused, her hand finally coming away from the door. It was clear she was weighing up her options. For a while she watched Shelby but, when it was plain to see that as far as Shelby was concerned she had said her piece and was now getting on with lunch, the decision as to what happened next was once again firmly in Amelia's court.

"You're going to tell me the truth about everything that happened?"

I couldn't see the point in opening my mouth. I knew what was coming.

"No, he's not. He will tell you what he's allowed to tell you, and you can draw your own conclusions about the rest. Once he's done then you and Carol's family leave it be."

This time Shelby stopped her task and leaned on the kitchen counter facing Amelia.

"Listen to me very carefully, Amelia. You are in an interesting position. Your oath when you placed that badge on your chest allows you a certain amount of privilege. Oh, I could go all "in the interest of national security" on you, but Aiden seems to feel the need to get this out of his system and we know once that's done his value to us will return."

The shocked look came first; surprisingly, the hands on the hips gesture came next.

"You plan to blackmail him once he tells me?"

Judging by the look on Shelby's face she couldn't see the point of the question, but she answered it anyway. "Yes, of course."

By now the water had started to boil, so Shelby's attention once again returned to the task in hand. When I looked over to Amelia it was clear she was considering her options. Eventually she shrugged her shoulders and muttered something under her breath before she went to help Shelby make lunch, putting together the top half of her dress as she did.

Shelby sensed me wander into murky waters a couple of times; with a "no" and a "don't go there" comment from her, I told Amelia what Carol's job was and, in frighteningly more detail, what went on that fateful day. Amelia herself gave up even the pretence of eating minutes after I started, her food now cold as Shelby stood and picked up all three plates from the table and stood over by the kitchen counter.

The horn from the ferry blew its ten minute warning that it would be leaving soon and, since it was the last ferry of the day, it would get crowded real quick. Since I wasn't sure she heard it I asked her if she planned to stay the night. The look she gave me left me in little doubt she regarded me as nothing more than pond scum, and the thought of even spending this much time in my company was making her skin crawl.

As she stood up she turned to Shelby and thanked her. "My gun?"

"Still in your car. I bluffed."

For a brief moment the women stared at each other. "You're good at it."

Shelby's answer was more a statement of fact than anything. "I know."

Amelia walked out, got into her car and left. Shelby stood next to me watching the same scene unfold.

"Reinstate her, Shelby. Sitting at home for a week with what's in her head now will drive her nuts."

Shelby left after a nod. I watched from the window as she took her cell out of her jacket pocket, then turned towards the kitchen to do the washing up. Peace, or rather peace for me, was but a week's worth of comfort.

*******

A man stood by the graveside. His features looked familiar, yet I had never seen him before. His age finally gave him away; he took a step to one side so I could place the flowers on Carol's grave.

Even I couldn't stand the silence any longer.

"Carol was my friend, Mr. Burnett. I'm sorry for your loss."

His eyes misted up. I watched it coming, and even took a half step to one side just so it would take some of the force out of the punch. He needed to do that much, and I let him. Then he turned and kicked away the flowers I had just laid.

"You don't have the right to stand here! Stay away from my girl. She's dead because of you, and if I thought killing you would bring her back I would do it in a heartbeat."

The nod of my head was all he got. Talking to him would have been futile; the man was barely holding it together at the moment. I had read a copy of the letter sent to the family, and the words "killed in action" had been used a couple of times. The medal she earned keeping me safe at the expense of her own life, and the pride which almost burst out of them at the sight of her donning her uniform, now meant nothing to her family. Knowing that the child you raised would never return with the hugs and kisses of comfort you now needed was enough to destroy anyone's happiness.

Memories are all that remain; stories of the past. Friends who would finally yield those little secrets of what she got up to when her mom and dad weren't looking, only to find out that they not only knew, but had done the same when they themselves were younger. Pictures that start out looking new are now worn down by so many hands clinging to this rare second of history.

Hoarded family videos are dusted off and watched anew; tissues are used behind closed doors as the brave face collapses into tears, only to momentarily suspend sadness and break into an occasional smile when the person on the screen ignites a happy memory for the watcher. But, all too soon, guilt and sadness return to swamp that smile as they ask themselves: "Why her?"

The Burnetts were given the highest honor the day of the funeral. The same General that stood in my way in Afghanistan led the procession off of the ferry that day. The Marines that surrounded her coffin in dress uniform were all from her own unit; officially they were all on leave, yet all stayed on base so they could take part. To the world she was killed by a roadside bomb, and now her family knew why the bomb was there.

To steal an asset; to torture, and eventually kill once the secrets in my head were gone. Carol's job was to make sure that never happened, even if the ultimate price had to be paid to prevent it. Yes: I sympathized with Mr. Burnett's actions. He was a father, after all.

*******

Madison was sitting on the step, resting against the edge of the porch, when I opened the gate.

"You're late. We missed the last ferry."

"Well, considering I wasn't even aware I was going anywhere, how can I be late?"

Even as I spoke Madison stood up, headed for the door to my house, and opened it. There was no point in asking how she did that, since I knew for a fact that I always locked the door. She set about making coffee for us both, making me a little uncomfortable when I realized that she knew where everything was without even asking. It took me ten minutes to pack a bag; I guess some habits are harder to break than others.

Madison took both cups over to the couch and I followed. Since she was setting the timetable I just assumed that, now we had no ferry, she must be waiting for nightfall.

*******

It was three months before the boat dropped me back off at Clearwater Cove. The ferry wasn't due to start for another hour, and all I wanted was a bath and bed, not necessarily in that order. The sun starting to turn the night sky a brighter color was the only light I needed on the twenty minute walk home. Opening the door to my house gave me a warm and comfortable feeling; since I couldn't see the point of having lights on I filled the coffee pot and put it on while I made myself busy.

I saw the shadow move out of the corner of my eye a second before my world descended into darkness.

The pain behind my eyes meant I had to be slow when I opened them. When I looked around I was face down on the couch with my arms handcuffed behind me. Amelia sat on the chair across from me, drinking what smelt like coffee.

"Will you take your damn feet off my coffee table? That's an antique."

"It's a fake. Henry makes six of these a year, and sells them to the tourists over the summer season. What he earns out of your stupidity keeps him fed over the winter."

She still took her feet off the table. She then got up and walked over to me, placing her knee in the small of my back, and wasn't all that gentle about taking the cuffs off.

I figured it would be a rhetorical question considering the growing smirk on her face as she approached me, but I asked anyway. "Feel better now?"

Amelia smiled as she walked back to her seat, "I don't know what you mean."

"I'm sure you don't."

Since there was only one cup on the table I figured I may as well make my own. Getting something for the headache I now had was my next thought. It was only with the full light of day pouring through the open curtains that my mind screamed out that something about my house had changed. It was small things like candles and little crocheted things on the table.

"Why have you feminized my house?"

"Because I refuse to live in this man cave. I left the secret room alone; the one you have all the hush-hush stuff in. Mind you, the door was a giveaway. I've never seen a steel door that's made to look like a wooden one before."

Amelia pulled her boots on and walked towards the door, grabbing her vest in one hand and the door with the other.

"I finish at five. If you're feeling at a loose end you can make dinner for us both. Just leave the candles alone; they are mine."

Watching from the window as she walked down to the ferry dock, with my coffee in one hand and a couple of Excedrin to relieve the nightstick-induced headache in the other, one of those thoughts crept up on me and I had to smile. The only thing that was missing was the "yes, dear" moment.

The shower was just divine, but walking into the bedroom came as a shock. The damn woman had moved not only into my house, but into my bed as well. Fluffy pillows and flowery sheets; the damn stuffed teddy bear got tossed on the floor before my head hit the only non-fluffy pillow I had left, and I heard nothing for the rest of the morning.

It was the whistle from the mid-day ferry departing the dock that woke me. Once dressed, and feeling almost human again, I headed for the diner. It was a mix of familiar faces and a few new ones that had the attention of the waitress. I sat in the corner and read the paper; a coffee came first, followed by my meal. The chair across from me being pulled out got my attention, and I folded my paper before watching the woman for as long as she watched me.

"Your lunch is paid for; I paid it. My husband had no right to do what he did."

I had never been in this predicament before, and was unsure what to say. It was like looking at Carol, only a much older version. Although I was looking at Carol's mother, the resemblance was so close that it felt like I was with my friend. I had to fight the urge to call her Carol once again.

"Mrs. Burnett, I'm..."

"Don't say you're sorry for my loss; I know you are. You're Aiden; I should have realized months back but, as you can imagine, I wasn't looking in your direction at the time."

Mrs. Burnett stood, and an even younger version of Carol slid off the stool at the counter and joined her mother, both clasping hands.

"It's never been my way to discuss my business in public, but I had to come see you when you got back, before the people in this town burned your place down with you in it due to the actions of my husband. Em's been living at your place because I asked her to. The three months you have been away has been the longest you've been off this island in all the time you have been here."

It was taking everything I had within me to hold back from tearing up.

"We all thought it was because of my husband. Em says different, but she won't say much else so she must have her reasons. I plan to stop by tomorrow with this one."

Her head nodded towards her daughter and her hand still clasped tightly lifted from her side for a moment to re-affirm her statement. "I would like to meet the one you call Shelby if you can arrange it, but it's not important if you can't."

She left after I told her I would try. That wasn't a call I was looking forward to making. Paranoia sure puts you in a strange place. I swear half the people in the diner watched Carol's mom leave, while the other half watched me. It was also perhaps the only time I didn't enjoy my meal. That was a sad feeling, since I had been looking forward to it on my way home.

With my chores done, and buying another damn painting from that shop, I returned home and settled down to do some work. Something had been bugging me for most of the early afternoon; it was only when I sat in front of the computer and had access to the Department's resources that it eventually lead me to at least one answer. Burnett may have been her last name, but the way that woman stood made me dig just a little deeper.

Tracing her family back gave me the answer: she was a Beckman. Carol's family owned Parker's Island, and yet in all the time Carol and I had been together, and through the conversations we had, she never once mentioned just how deeply her family were involved.

*******

Shelby must have been keeping tabs on my research: I couldn't say I blamed her. Having a computer link directly into the Department from an unsecure area made them nervous. She was waiting for my call. As I explained my very brief conversation with Carol's mom, Shelby listened and said nothing. If there was one thing I'd learned from working with this woman, silence from her could cause tidal waves in the Himalayas.

"Are you out of your fucking mind? No: don't even fucking answer that; I know you are. I knew it was a mistake letting you talk to that girl, but you were set on it. Corporal Burnett is dead, Aiden, and you can't breathe life back into this family. Sell the house and come back here before I have to deal with another one of your fuck-ups."

Habit had me put Shelby on speaker. Amelia came through the door halfway through her rant, and stood there listening to the rest.

"Shelby, I'm asking this as a personal favor."

"You ran out of personal favors when I let you leave the Department. What does she want, anyway?"

Amelia hung her vest on the coat rail and walked over to the couch quickly, looking over at the kitchen on the way and smiling when she smelt dinner cooking. Her hand came up as she sat down, to indicate that she wanted to speak.