Parkers Island Ch. 03

The bells of all three churches rang out across the island, adding a strange harmony to the salute from the boats. Deputy Amelia Thompson shed a single tear as the air grew thick with the emotion of each step towards the island's cemetery. As my wife passed me I physically had to fight the urge to join her, to walk alongside her. But we knew this was Madison's day; a woman who protected my wife at the expense of her own life, just as Amelia knew that she had to lead this funeral cavalcade alone in acknowledgment of that fact.

I was so proud of my wife that day. Little did anyone know that she had been up half the night pacing the house, fighting her own fears; the only thing that got her through the night was that she wanted the whole island to know that Madison was the bravest of them all.

Five Deputies walked either side of the coffin. Three members of the FBI team asked if they could attend; the woman my wife pointed a gun at was in the middle, her two colleagues who had helped carry Madison from the house walking either side.

The townsfolk stood almost shoulder to shoulder on one side of the road all the way up to the cemetery, joining the procession as the car passed them. Soon the cemetery was filled to capacity, and the reverend was thankful that he had arranged for a public-address system to be used.

Madison Robertson was twenty-eight when she died. Born and delivered to an orphanage because she wasn't wanted, she bounced around foster care for eighteen years. Then, with her release from the state childcare system, the army got her for a while before she found her niche with Bingham Securities. On the day of her funeral she had the inhabitants of an entire island wishing her God's peace, with the most sincere thanks of a select few.

*******

I wasn't stupid; I had been where Amelia was right now. She needed help and I felt too close to give her the help she really needed. My talks with Shelby got me a surprise agreement. The Department offered to have Amelia reside with them while she underwent treatment for the post-traumatic stress she was clearly heading towards.

We all had a part to play in her mental state. I fell in love with a woman whose only crime was to love me, and through me and my past we had brought her to this point. I was as guilty as hell, and needed to do everything in my power to help her; selling it to my wife caused the biggest row we ever had. It was then I leaned on Martha and asked for her help. Amelia stayed with the Burnetts for a week before I got the phone call I had hoped every day for.

The Department's clinic wasn't designed or even staffed with people to deal with PTSD. When assets went into the field, nine times out of ten they were insulated, protected better than even some of the top Generals. I still know of three assets that hadn't heard a shot fired in anger (unless you counted Xbox). That's what Bingham Securities were for: to cut an asset off from the world so they could concentrate on the job in hand.

The clinic dealt with minor injuries and the occasional mental exhaustion case. They drafted in a specialist from Walter Reed, who sat in a room and read a report that was so classified that it had 'eyes only' stamped all over it. The words 'no copies' were stamped as many times over what space there was left on the cover. I'm told it took her over two hours to read everything in the file, going back occasionally to re-read something. When she closed the folder the security guard behind her removed the file and walked out of the room.

Dr. Courtney Barstow just sat and stared at the wall, not even realizing that the guard had gone from the room. The first page had the signatures of the only people who had read it; six in all. Two she recognized as doctors at the clinic, one of whom she knew had recommended her. There was her own signature, and another was a Senator she knew by name from watching some political program. Only with the aid of that file did she realize that Amelia Thompson was his God-daughter.

She raised an eyebrow when she recognized the President's signature. God alone knows whether he came here or he got the file out of this place to the White House. The last was a name that only had one word: Shelby. Feeling like she needed some fresh air, she left the sterile room and walked the grounds.

"My God! If only the newspaper people ever got to read that report," she thought.

It still took her a moment to realize that someone else had sat on the bench beside her.

*******

I had timed her entry into the sterile room, and watched her leave; she walked past me like I wasn't even there. My following her may have had 'stalker' written over it in any other circumstance. When she realized I was sitting next to her I held out my hand.

"Aiden Thompson."

Her grip was firm.

"The husband." It wasn't a question; more a statement that she knew was fact. "So you're the reason for all this?"

"Yes, sadly I am. Sorry about that."

"Where is your wife, Mr. Thompson?"

"She's still at home."

What she said next threw me.

"Good thing I'm still packed, then. When can we leave?"

"Rest up tonight. It's a full day's journey."

Nodding her head, Dr. Barstow just stood and walked towards the clinic building. When Tessa found out we were heading back to the island she asked Shelby if she could go as well. It took Shelby a New York minute to agree.

*******

All three of us stood and looked at the shore as the ferry came to a stop. Dr. Barstow saw the Deputy sitting on the bench, a coffee cup in her hands.

"Your ritual, Aiden?"

"It's also hers now; she seems to think they will come back."

"Will they?"

I don't think she was ready for my answer. "No."

She made the mistake of looking into my eyes, shivering slightly before once again looking towards my wife. It's the one thing that was not even in the file she read. Between Bingham's need for revenge and mine we became a formidable team. The Department turned a blind eye, as did the other agencies. I'm sure a word or two from Senator Chadwick had a lot to do with that.

The one survivor of that night's firefight was handed over and, as quickly as I was breaking codes and gleaning information from silent sources, the team from Bingham unearthed what was left of the cell. Within three months all connections to the cell had vanished. I didn't ask where, and wouldn't have been interested enough to be bothered, although I did have a new respect for Jacob Edwards and the people of Bingham now.

As Dr. Barstow was about to step off the ferry she turned to me. "I forgot to ask: where am I staying?"

"With Martha Burnett."

"Oh, yes, the Matriarch." She paused as though in thought. "I want to speak to your wife alone for awhile. Oh, and introduce me as Courtney. I can't be all formal in a situation like this."

I nodded, and pointed to the diner.

"When you're done, go into the diner and ask the girl behind the counter to let Martha know that you're ready. A car will come and pick you up."

Courtney raised her eyebrows. "That's a bit cloak and dagger, don't you think?"

I laughed. Hell, even Tessa smiled.

"Not really. We have no cabs on the island, and it will be easier for Mr. Burnett to come and get you rather than you getting directions from one of the locals."

A faint, but cute, shade of red graced her cheeks, before she walked over to Amelia and sat next to her. As Tessa pulled the car off the ferry, I introduced Courtney to my wife, and gave Amelia a hug and a kiss before telling her I would see her at home. She was already talking to the doctor as I got into the car, and Tessa dropped me off at the house before heading home herself.

Making dinner put me in a zone where I didn't have to think too much about what my wife and the good doctor were talking about. The front door swinging open, and a very angry looking Lauren standing there, brought a very quiet "oh, shit" from me.

"Thanks for the fucking invite, Aiden! So tell me: when were you going to get around to letting me know you had both left the reservation?"

The voice on the verandah behind her slowed her down some.

"The dipshit thought I needed a head doctor, so he brought one here."

Lauren looked behind her, then turned and hugged Amelia.

"You can fight it all you want, sister, but you DO need help."

I breathed a sigh of relief that I had dodged a bullet just then, so much so that Lauren even held out her hold-all for me to take up to the guest room. Both girls were in a tight little conversation on the couch on my return, so I went back to sorting out dinner.

The mood around the table was slightly more somber. All three of us hadn't been together since the night Madison died. Lauren was more upbeat towards the back end of the evening as she recounted waking up in hospital.

"I tell you, girl, I've never been more embarrassed! I woke still pumped full of drugs, and I'm scrambling around looking for my weapon."

Even as she told us this her arms waved around, and that image alone caused Amelia to drop her fork and laugh. A small thing to many, but an act that I had not seen since that day.

"So I'm pulling tubes out all over the place, and the nurse is screaming that I'm having a fit."

Amelia had to push her chair back and hold her stomach, as tears of laughter rolled down her cheeks. Suddenly Lauren stood up and unbuttoned her jeans, before dropping them to her knees. The sight of Lauren looking like that in blue bikini bottoms made me spit the orange juice I was drinking across the table. The girls just pointed and laughed even harder as Lauren continued.

"That fuckhead got me in the ass! I have two things going for me girlfriend; these." Her hands were already pushing her tits further upward before she turned her back to both of us. "And this ass, and that fuckhead put a God damn hole in it."

By now Amelia was bent double, the sound of her laughter a pure joy to hear. I looked more closely at Lauren: not to perv, although she did have one heck of a body on her, but my eyes refused to move away from the three holes in the top half of her thigh, as well as the one in her ass. Lauren noticed what I was doing, but said nothing.

"So, as you can imagine, I've put in a requisition for a full body Kevlar suit. I had thought about the deluxe model with the extra padding around the tail, but this ass needs to be shown in all its glory; not made to look like it's holding one heck of a lot of junk in the trunk."

Amelia had trouble breathing and laughing at the same time. Lauren pulled her jeans back up, buckled up and sat back down again.

We both heard it; Lauren was out of her chair faster than I was as Amelia's laughter turned to tears. Lauren knelt in front of my wife, her hands wrapped tight around hers.

"I couldn't save her, Lauren; you have to believe that, I just couldn't. That bastard dropped from the attic behind us; she had no chance."

Lauren made a few shushing noises and then pulled my wife from her seat, wrapping her arms around her as the memories of Madison's death once again overwhelmed her. Both sat on the couch as I sat back down at the table. It was Lauren all along; she was the connection that would open my wife up. Amelia nodded her head at some question she was asked, and both girls looked at me and nodded once again.

I phoned Martha, and Mr. Burnett dropped Courtney at our house half an hour later. It was well past midnight when I put my wife to bed and drove Courtney back to the Burnetts.' She waited until I pulled up outside before she spoke again.

"I can't stay here and treat your wife."

"Would it help if you stayed with us?"

"Yes."

"Give me until tomorrow. I will have a bed delivered by then, and you can use our other spare."

"That's a lot of women in your place! People will talk."

"This is Parkers Island, Courtney. These people have seen so much more than you give them credit for. But they won't be talking anyway, because I'm going back to the Department late tomorrow. My wife needs you, Lauren and Tessa, but not me at the moment."

"I can't talk you out of that choice?"

"No."

Mr. Burnett opened the door and Courtney got out of the car. He waved, and I waved back before pulling away. Our house was dark on my return. Amelia was sleeping in a fetal position, something she did a lot since Madison's death.

*******

Amelia recognized the signs. The bed had been delivered an hour ago, and both girls had had the spare room ready an hour before that. I gave the guys a hefty tip and a big "thank you" for getting the bed here and put together so quickly.

"You're leaving."

"For a few days, yes. You need to be comfortable when you speak to the doctor, but you can't do that around me. Lauren is here, as is Tessa. Call me when you want me back."

"OK."

That one word almost tore my heart out. If she had wanted me to stay I would have. Although she had taken a few tentative steps on the road to recovery, she had done so with the aid of Lauren. I was gone before the doctor arrived, and watched from the ferry as the island grew smaller until it was nothing but a haze against the sky beyond it.

*******

I had basically wandered for a day, ending up where it all started. It was strange standing outside our old house. A man was washing his car on the driveway; a young mother and child were on a blanket close to the house, its structure adding shade for them. Eventually he stopped and walked over to me.

"Can I help you, mister?"

I still kept my hands in my pockets. I smiled, but I didn't put much effort into it.

"Just reminiscing. I used to live here; grew up here, in fact."

"Well, we live here now, so I would appreciate it if you moved along."

He took a step closer, puffing his chest out as he did. The thought that I could deflate his ego by reminding him that he actually rented the house, and I still owned it, was pointless. I nodded, and walked away as he asked.

The cemetery was just as immaculate as I had remembered it. What surprised me were the fresh flowers on my folks' grave. I added mine and knelt for a while, enjoying the peace and the happy memories of childhood.

"You don't write, you don't call; my child doesn't even believe she has an uncle, let alone an aunt."

Abby didn't see me grin. I stood and hugged my sister.

"My niece is barely four, Abby. I know this because I sent a birthday card."

My sister waved her hand dismissively. "Details, details."

We held hands and walked towards the car park while Abby went into minute detail of everything that had gone on since my wedding three years ago. It was only when we were both sitting in her car that she finally came up for air, and I of course asked the only question that she hadn't covered.

"How did you know I was here?"

"Amelia called; she said you would be here either today or tomorrow."

My next question would have been directed to my wife, since it was only a last minute decision on my part not to return to the Department. How the heck did she know where I was? Unless Tessa called Shelby, and SHE tracked me down.

"What's going on, Aiden? Em sounded worried, and why isn't she with you?"

Even holding her hand couldn't help me formulate an answer. In the end I gave her one that was more honest than even I thought was appropriate.

"Amelia has a heck of a lot on her mind right now, Abby. Having me around is slowing down the help she needs, since all I am right now is a reminder. Please don't ask any more, Abby, because I would have to lie to you, and I don't have it in me to keep a straight face when I do so at the moment."

My sister stared, her mouth hanging open. It shut a couple of times, only to open again as she fought really hard to form a sentence.

"Matt told me once that there are things about you and your life that come with consequences. When I pressed him on his statement he clammed up, so I ignored what he said. He may be my husband, but I'm your sister and I should know when you're in trouble, yet he knows you better than I do, doesn't he?"

"You married well, Abby. Matt is a good man, and you complement each other well."

Her eyes sparkled and the cheeky little grin returned to her lips. "Nice swerve, brother of mine; real nice."

It's not easy to hug a sister in a car, but I made the attempt and it was passable by anyone's standards.

"You're staying with Hannah while you're here."

I went to make a comment but Abby raised her hand, cutting me off from even attempting it.

"Hannah wants you at her place. Don't worry: Gran and Grand-dad won't be told you're in town, but she wants you at her place. She may have had her head stuck up Gran's ass for a while, but it's out now, Aiden, and she wants to make up for lost time with you."

My love for both my sisters was truly tested at that moment.

"Aiden, if you don't agree to this I will never speak to you again. Hannah knows she has some serious ass kissing to do so please let her. God alone knows I have almost the same amount to do as well."

That stopped my thoughts dead; Abby must have seen my confusion. She blushed and held onto my hand, her other hand resting on my cheek.

"If I asked you to take your shirt off, brother of mine, would you?"

I suddenly felt very cold. Abby's fingers tightened their grip on my hand.

"If I asked you who Carol was, would you tell me?"

Her eyes misted up and she sniffed back a tear. I grabbed hold of my sister and held her tight to me as her whole body shook with sobs. Neither of us had any idea how long we stayed like that; eventually Abby could cry no more. She pulled her bag onto her lap when I let go of her, and produced a tissue.

"Your makeup has run, Abby."

"Doesn't matter."

My sister extracted a promise that we would meet again at Hannah's. She had to make sure the nanny was OK, and then she said she needed to pick up something from the house before she could be at Hannah's. I left the cemetery with my promise still ringing in my ears; as I sat in my car and watched her leave I was intrigued, and slightly alarmed, that she suddenly seemed to know so much. My thoughts dwelt on Matt, and yet I believed we had an understanding. However, I wasn't married to him: my sister was.

I sat still outside Hannah's house for a few minutes, not knowing why, yet not in any real rush to have another argument with my sister. The door opened and she came out, walked over to my car, and sat in the passenger seat. She looked out the window for a moment before she felt brave enough to look at me.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For being a bitch, for listening to our grandparents over you when they walked into our house, and for disrespecting Amelia that day at the airport. The list can go on and on, Aiden. You're my brother and the one that looked out for us. It's you I should have listened to; no one else."

Hannah's cell rang just then. When she answered it all she said was "Yes, he's here now. We're talking in his car outside the house."

My sister closed her cell down and once again looked at me.

"Please come in, Aiden. We have so much to explain."

Feeling a bit foolish just sitting there we both got out. I grabbed my bag and went with her. Hannah made us drinks and, by the time we had settled on the couch, Abby was rushing through the house looking for us. The relief was clear on her face when she saw us both sitting there. She looked behind her for a second before ushering someone forward. Within a moment Sarah stood beside Abby, both looking very anxious.

Still unsure why Sarah was here I looked toward Hannah. The one time I had seen Sarah was at my sister's wedding. A light suddenly dawned on me; she had been the doctor I'd pointed the gun at in Afghanistan, and she must have told Matt at the wedding. What confused me was why she told my sisters. The longer I stared the more she seemed to shrink into herself. Abby noticed and stood directly in front of her.