Chapter XXXI – Timothy Teller

Timothy grimaced while he watched Eddie shift, moaning as pain overcame some of his control. He stiffened, gritting his teeth.

“Try to relax, buddy. Try to relax.”

He could feel Ginger looking between them, but Timothy refused to look back at her. He didn’t know what else he could do for Eddie. With the blood flow stable but without proper access to medical help or supplies, Timothy knew nothing else he could do for the injured man, except bandage the wound as best he could and keep an eye on him. And nothing else he could tell the worried sister.

Eddie fidgeted again, gritting his teeth so hard that it must have brought pain to his jaw. Ginger ruffled his hair gently, but it didn’t seem to help much.

“He’s a brave man.” Fabian’s voice sounded odd. Perhaps the sound of pity colored his voice. “In his place, I would have been yelling a long time ago and making a scene, I’m afraid. He hardly makes a sound. Not from lack of pain though.”

“Maybe he’s not in much pain, after all.” Kimberly’s grunt that followed annoyed Timothy.

Fabian seemed unfazed, however. “It’s plain to anyone watching him that his pain level is off the charts. He’s brave.”

It took several seconds before Eddie shook his head. Timothy had to bend over him to understand what he said.

“I’m not brave.” He took a sharp intake of breath. “I just don’t want to scare her.”

Timothy glanced up at Ginger, who clearly had no idea. “Scare who, Eddie?”

He winced. “The kid. She’s scared enough. I don’t want to make it worse.”

Timothy patted Eddie’s shoulder. “A noble aspiration.”

“Why are you crying?” Mary’s whine raised Timothy’s level of annoyance once again and made him turn from the injured man.

My patience is thinning. Lord, help me, it’s thinning fast.

“Great.” Kimberly’s rough voice joined. “First, the brat and now a grown woman.”

Timothy tried to discover which grown woman they spoke of and just caught sight of Renee wiping her eyes. “I’m fine.”

Mary crossed her arms. “If anyone has a right to cry it’s me after going through that grueling interrogation!”

“Would you leave the woman alone?” Ginger shook her head, then lowered her voice. “Bunch of vultures.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Mary pulled a chair up beside Renee, ignoring Ginger completely. “What do you have to cry about?”

“Maybe she’s overwhelmed. Any normal person might be overwhelmed in our positions.” Fabian leaned against a table, his arms crossed.

Mary peered closer at the woman and Timothy felt like ordering her to the far end of the room. Renee didn’t answer.

“Is it Eddie? Don’t tell me that he’s your brother too!” At Renee’s look of confusion, Mary shook her head. “No, your husband is the one you mentioned earlier. Don’t tell me that Eddie is really your husband and you’re crying over the idiot, while still trying to hide his true identity!”

“Of course not!” Renee’s tears seemed to turn into surprised consternation.

Eddie looked like he would have rolled his eyes, if he had the energy, but he closed them instead when Timothy looked back down at him.

“You do have some interesting, but positively wild theories.” Fabian tapped his foot lightly on the ground.

“She is the one who was crying.” The whine vanished from Mary’s voice. She sounded odd without it. She turned back to Renee again. “Your husband is the key here, I think.”

Timothy saw Ginger’s interest had been caught. A thoughtful frown started on her face.

Renee shook her head. “I-I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re crying.” Mary nodded triumphantly, rocking most of herself in the process. “It’s probably over your husband. I can tell by the way that you’re crying that it is.”

Timothy rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t you let it out and tell us all about it?” Mary obviously believed she gave sage wisdom.

Renee shivered. “No, thank you.”

“Oh, but you must!” Mary wheedled. “You’ve already made us put up with your tears.”

Timothy looked at Ginger, who raised both eyebrows. She bit her lip, probably to avoid speaking.

“She may be exaggerating a bit.” Kimberly dropped her empty cup onto the nearby table. “But you might as well oblige her.”

“I’d…” Renee voice failed her, her eyes roving the room with an obvious search for support.

“You owe it to us. Tell us about your husband.” Mary nodded again.

“I hardly think she owes any of us anything.” Fabian had a touch of annoyance in his voice.

“Perhaps not.” Kimberly shrugged. “She might as well tell us though. I mean, why not?”

Timothy took one look at Renee’s tearful, but silent attempt to protest and decided it was time to intervene. “Because she clearly does not want to tell you about it. So, why don’t you leave the poor woman alone?”

Mary Dill widened her eyes. “She owes-”

“She doesn’t owe anyone diddly-squat!” Ginger leveled her eyes at the woman, but kept her voice even. “You have been wailing literally since the first explosion every time something jars you. Do you owe us anything?”

Timothy just caught a flash of a smile cross Fabian’s face. “The woman makes a very good point.”

Mary blinked rapidly, opening and closing her mouth, as if words literally died. Kimberly glared in Timothy and Ginger’s direction a moment, but also remained quiet. Renee’s sighed and closed her eyes.

“Fear turns people into bullies.” Eddie’s voice just reached Timothy.

“Or idiots.” Ginger yanked her head up to look at Timothy and seemed to suspect something from his look. “Hey, I didn’t yell at her. And you said something first.”

Timothy shook his head with another glance at Renee. “I wasn’t going to say you shouldn’t have said anything. They needed to leave the poor thing alone.” He pulled up his watch to take Eddie’s pulse.

Ginger waited until he laid Eddie’s wrist back down before speaking again. She spoke loud enough that only he and Eddie could hear her. “They needed to stop bullying her, but I can’t help but wonder myself.”

Timothy raised his eyebrows. “Wonder what?”

“Wonder what is upsetting her.” Ginger nodded toward Renee’s still drooping figure.

“Anna’s story about her friend’s murder seemed to upset her a good deal.” Timothy sighed, he hardly knew for what reason at this point. “If she’s still upset over that…”  

“Then she took it awfully to heart then.” Ginger moved to a more comfortable position, though she didn’t let go of her brother. “Almost as if…” She stopped.

Timothy frowned. “Almost as if she had a personal connection or a similar experience.”

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Chapter XXX – Adrian Terrence

Interviewing Mary Dill proved to be an utter failure. The woman could not keep on task or on topic. She reverted to Eddie and his supposed guilt over and over, hardly giving a direct answer to any question about herself. Finally, Adrian and Xavier gave up, dismissing her altogether.

“Do you think that Eddie McIntyre is guilty?” Xavier’s question brought Adrian out of the distracted thought he had fallen into after Mary Dill shuffled off.

Adrian glanced down at the mostly blank page he had labeled with Mary Dill’s name, before snapping the notebook shut. “Eddie doesn’t strike me as the killing kind, no.” He looked at his cousin thoughtfully. “Still, you’re the professional. What do you think?”

“I think there isn’t enough evidence to point toward anyone. I also think,” he stared in the direction of the prostrate man, “that he’s in danger of losing his life, while everyone in here is far too occupied with discussing his guilt or lack thereof.”

Adrian followed his cousin’s example and looked toward Eddie. Judging by what Adrian could see of Ginger’s face at a distance, the injured man still fared badly.

“He needs medical attention. Real medical attention.”

“Agreed.” Adrian knew his cousin would say more, if he gave him time.

Xavier finally turned back. “The door doesn’t open. The glass on the windows are bullet proof, as well as fogged so communication with the outside world via that means, is cut off. There is no other exit. The electricity is out, so no internet. No phone line. Cell phone reception is out.”

Adrian knew all those things, but hearing them put together sounded worse than they had before.

Xavier hadn’t finished. “It would seem that we are trapped in the café with no recourse, except to await help. Help, which we have no proof is actually coming.”

Adrian glanced toward Monique, who only blinked at him. He turned back to Xavier again, when she hugged her precious Mr. Pickles. “I can hear a point in your summary. I don’t think I’m going to like what it is.”

Xavier let his gaze roam around the room before he spoke again. The frown on his face deepened. “In the midst of this setting, comes a murder. It’s… It’s as if someone planned it that way. Such a death, in such a cut off place. It’s as if someone… set it up intentionally.”

Adrian couldn’t respond. He felt kicked in the gut. He wished he never drank that coffee.

Xavier watched him a moment. “Does my reasoning seem flawed at all? Who, for instance, installs bullet proof glass in a café?”

“An individual suffering from paranoia?” Adrian knew the suggestion would be unlikely. Perhaps if we had earthquakes and hurricanes, and someone hoped the bullet proof glass would be less likely to break. We don’t have those here though.

“Could be.mOr, it could be someone who had planned to use the café as a prison. A place to keep a person or persons without escape.”

“The reasoning seems to make sound sense.” Adrian sighed, dropping his pencil before he snapped it in half. He no longer wanted any part in the investigation or anything else about it. Not that he did before, but the deeper they went, the more he wished he could escape.

“The question becomes…” Xavier lowered his voice and Adrian tried to pay attention. “Why? Why, any of it?”

“Because people like to wallow in sin, Cousin. That’s why.” He didn’t look up at Xavier, instead picking up his pencil and breaking it in half after all.

“Adrian.”

“It’s true.” Adrian snapped in a low growl. He recognized the warning tone in Xavier’s voice.

“Perhaps.”

Adrian made himself look up. “Hardly what you meant though.”

“Not really.” Xavier gave him the shadow of a sympathetic smile. “I understand where you’re coming from though.”

Adrian sighed with a shake of his head. “One might conclude, that if someone intentionally put the café under lockdown, then they meant to keep someone who is trapped in here, a prisoner.”

“They might have done it simply for the murder, but I hardly think anyone would lock themselves up with their victim after committing a murder, unless they had another objective in mind.”

“Such as?” Adrian didn’t like the idea, but it made sense.

“Revenge? Another murder? I don’t know.” Xavier shrugged. “They could be after more than one person. Why, however… There could be so many possible reasons and explanations.”

Adrian shook himself. “That would make the explosion intentional. Whatever it was.”

Xavier nodded. Monique looked between them every now and then, but said nothing and reacted little.

“I don’t like where this is going, Cousin.”

“Neither do I.” Xavier put his arm around the little girl, when she finally leaned against him. “If it’s true though, we not only have a murderer with us, but someone else who that person has arranged to imprison, at the very least. And we don’t know why.”

“Which leaves us… Where?” Adrian spoke more to himself than his cousin.

Xavier, however, answered him anyhow. “It could, depending on circumstances, mean we have more than one guilty party. We don’t know what the second party may or may not have done to merit being locked up in the café.”

“And if the murderer has an accomplice in whoever runs the café… We may have more problems.”

“It certainly reinforces one thing.” Xavier lowered his voice even more.

“Which is?”

“We do not trust anyone.” He glanced around once again, then back. “Except each other. Not until we know more.”

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Chapter XXIX – Ginger Thomas

If talking to Adrian and Xavier ought to have made Ginger feel better, it didn’t work. With a still heavy heart and even higher anxiety, she left them. Anna moved on her approach and the waitress knelt beside her brother once more.

“How is he doing?”

Eddie’s eyes opened at the sound of her voice. Pain clouded them so, that it hurt Ginger to look at him.

Timothy still looked more haggard than usual. “He’s doing as well as can be expected. Stable and the bleeding is down to manageable levels.”

A spasm of pain made Eddie tense. Ginger put a hand on his shoulder.

“His pain level appears unchanged.”

Ginger frowned. “Can’t we give him something for it?”

Timothy shook his head. “I wouldn’t risk it. When we get out of here, if he needs surgery…” He let the sentence hang.

With a sigh, Ginger took her brother’s hand instead. Exactly when can we hope for that to happen? We’re stuck in here.

“Ginger, what did you tell them?” Eddie’s voice rasped.

Ginger shook her head. “I told you that you don’t need to worry about it.”

He winced. “I will anyhow.”

“Is he confessing?” Mary’s whimper, as the woman crept closer to them, made Ginger flinch.

“No.” She hardly dared to look at the woman.

“Well, you lied, and if you are siblings, he probably did too…”

“What?” Ginger swiveled around. Eddie squeezed her hand in a silent plea for her to remain calm.

“I-it’s true!”

“No, it isn’t!” Ginger calmed herself with an effort. “And I didn’t lie.”

“Even if she did, siblings don’t always share failings.” Fabian leaned against the table near Mary.

“They could though and probably would.” Mary wrung her hands, creeping forward with the most ridiculous shuffle. “He’s still alive. I didn’t kill him. I keep expecting him to slip away.”

“Yes, he is still alive.” Fabian straightened. “No, you may not try again.”

Mary gave him a wary glance, shuffling backwards a hair. She almost squeaked. “He lied.”

“We don’t know that he lied.” Anna stood behind Ginger. “And this conversation is getting incredibly old!”

“We do know!” Mary’s voice raised beyond a squeak.

“You don’t know anything.” Ginger couldn’t keep from speaking. “You’re just a hysterical nutcase who could easily get us all killed through sheer idiocy!” Timothy cleared his throat and Ginger clenched her teeth.

“I-”

Fabian straightened. “Let’s break and go to our separate corners, before someone draws more blood, shall we?”

Ginger didn’t look directly at the man but turned toward her brother again. Mary backed away.

Eddie watched her, but she looked away. The room fell quiet and felt more oppressive than she had ever experienced. Sweeping her gaze across the room, Ginger noted everyone sitting away from each other. Alone.

Fabian watched Mary from a distance with an occasional glance toward Renee. Kimberly huddled alone, still sipping at what must have been some disgusting cold coffee. Anna absently rubbed her arm at a little distance from Ginger, while staring toward the worthless exit. The cousins still sat together with the little girl, but the rest… Their distrust of each other seemed to have increased. She wondered if Timothy would have kept a similar distance, if Eddie didn’t need him.

We don’t know who might try to stab us next for our own protection.

Renee shifted slightly in her chair, attracting Ginger’s attention again. The woman seemed to wilt and droop as if a burden crushed her very shoulders. Ginger thought back over her acquaintance – if it could be called that, – with the woman. Something about her had changed over time.

“I think her husband is gone.” She said it more to herself, but Timothy looked up.

“You think what?”

She didn’t turn. “Renee. I think her husband is gone.”

“Well, he certainly isn’t here.”

Ginger turned toward him with a roll of her eyes. “Not here, silly. I think he’s actually gone.”

“As in deceased?”

“Or he left her or is in prison or something.”

Timothy placed another folded towel beneath Eddie’s head. “Seems an extreme conclusion.”

“I finally remembered who he is.” Ginger shook her head. “I only saw them together once, but they were obviously together. She didn’t have a baby bump yet. She came to meet him here – they only stayed a moment after she showed up. He used to come in every Tuesday with his buddy.”

“And from that, you divine that he’s now gone? Be careful, you’ll start to sound like Mary.”

Ginger fought a glare. “The week that he stopped coming in, Renee started showing up. She’s come in every Tuesday since – except twice. Last week she was here on Wednesday or Thursday, and about a month ago, she came in on a Monday.”

Timothy reached to take Eddie’s pulse again. “You could be correct or it could be a coincidence. She didn’t seem to want to talk about it though, I’ll grant you that.”

“No, she didn’t.” Ginger glanced toward Renee, then back to Timothy. “She’s also sad. Very sad. I could be wrong, but I think something has happened to him. He’s gone. I just can’t tell if she thinks he’s coming back.”

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Chapter XXVIII – Monique Rodriguez

Monique poked and prodded at Mr. Pickles, trying to bring some sense of his round shape back into his face. She succeeded very little, no matter how hard she tried.

Come on, Mr. Pickles. If you get too flat, someone might think you’re a rag instead of a bunny. They might throw you in the trash can.

Every now and then, she looked across at Miss Ginger, who sat opposite to Mr. Xavier. Watching her face made Monique frown. Miss Ginger had scared her with her shouts and threats, but even when she glared at Mr. Xavier, she didn’t scare Monique now.

Daddy used to say to look at people’s eyes, Mr. Pickles. I heard him tell Mommy that’s what he would do. Sometimes, even if they sound mean, you can see something different in their eyes.

Between attempts at fluffing, Monique watched the waitress’s eyes. She watched her hands when they could be seen above the table, ready to curl into fists. She watched how frequently Miss Ginger raised her chin in a quick, sharp movement, how her voice could go from soft to rough in the flash of a second.

You’re still very flat, Mr. Pickles. But we have to stay brave, even when we’re flat.

“He’s my brother.”

Monique looked up again. She frowned and tried to see past Mr. Xavier to the man lying on the ground. She couldn’t see much. Mostly just his shoes.

Mr. Xavier said he was hurt really bad, but he won’t say if he’ll be okay, Mr. Pickles.

She switched back to Ginger.

Her eyes are sad. She sounds unhappy, but Daddy would say that her eyes are sad. I’m sure of it, Mr. Pickles.

She poked the bunny again. He still didn’t fluff much at all. The three adults stopped talking and Mr. Xavier looked down at her with a half-smile.

“Are you doing all right, sweetheart?”

She nodded at him, frowned at Mr. Pickles, then looked up once more. “Do you think she loves her brother very much?”

Her whisper must have been too quiet, because Mr. Xavier blinked and looked lost.

“What was that, sweetheart?”

“Does she love her brother very much?”

Mr. Xavier glanced back to Miss Ginger, who raised her eyebrows in question.

“She wants to know if you love your brother very much.”

Miss Ginger looked surprised. “Why would she ask something like that?”

“I love my brother very much.” Monique didn’t know why she ventured to speak loud enough for Miss Ginger to hear. “I would be sad to see my brother get hurt.”

Miss Ginger didn’t say anything at first. Monique thought she might just stare at her forever.

Why is she staring at me, Mr. Pickles?

Monique pulled the bunny’s ear without looking down. “Are you sad to see your brother get hurt?”

Miss Ginger closed her eyes for a brief second with a droop of her head. She looked up at Monique again, her shoulders falling. “Yes. I am sad to see him get hurt. If I could have kept him from getting hurt, I would have.”

“I’d keep my brother from getting hurt too.”

And we have to, Mr. Pickles. We have to.

“How old is your bother, Monique?”

The child looked up at Mr. Xavier and blinked.

Was I supposed to talk about him? They didn’t say not to.

All three of the adults had turned toward her now. She looked down at Mr. Pickles.

Can I answer them, Mr. Pickles?

She knew he couldn’t tell her what to do. She wished that he could. She shook her head without raising it.

“Aaron is four-years-old. He’s my little brother.”

They didn’t say I couldn’t talk about him.

“Where is Aaron, Monique?” Mr. Adrian asked.

Monique barely glanced up at him, her voice growing softer. “At the other house.”

“The ‘other house?’” She could feel Mr. Xavier watching her.

She nodded, pulling on Mr. Pickles other ear.

“Do you see him very much?”

She shook her head, pulling both of the bunny’s ears at once.

But if we’re good and very brave, maybe we’ll see Aaron again soon, Mr. Pickles.

The others didn’t ask her anything else and she ventured to raise her eyes again. Miss Ginger lifted her chin.

“Can I go now?”

“I think so.” Mr. Xavier nodded toward his cousin. “Adrian?”

Mr. Adrian looked up from his notebook. “Yes. I don’t have anything else to ask.”

Miss Ginger stood. She started to go, but stopped and turned back. “I am sorry that I didn’t tell you everything up front. You have to understand that I did what I did to protect Eddie, but that my actions do not make him guilty. I was irrational.”

“So you said,” Mr. Xavier answered.

Miss Ginger grit her teeth, but didn’t move.

“We have not accused Eddie.” Mr. Adrian closed his notebook again.

“Mary Dill-”

“Mary Dill can believe as she likes, but we are still investigating and are not making accusations as of yet. We are doing exactly as you asked.”

Miss Ginger looked from one to the other a moment. Monique watched her face, wondering why she stared so intently. At last, she gave a slight nod and turned away.

Monique pulled Mr. Pickles ears again. “I think that she loves her brother very much, even if she doesn’t say so.” She whispered the words, but Mr. Adrian heard them, because he sighed.

“I think that she does, Monique. I wonder though if her brother knows it.”

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Chapter XXVII – Timothy Teller

Timothy watched Ginger as she walked toward the cousins. She looked back at him, before she sat down. She seemed like such a deflated version of the waitress that he usually tried to avoid. When facing the rest of the group, a flash of defiance showed on her face, but as soon as her gaze rested on Eddie or himself, the defiance faded. Instead, worry settled there quite plainly and the fear in her eyes couldn’t be missed.

Timothy felt sorry for her as she lowered her head and sat before the cousins. She didn’t look like she even started speaking, but what could he tell from more than halfway across the room?

“I don’t know what else she has to tell them.” Eddie made the effort to speak.

“You really need to follow her advice and try not to worry about it.” Timothy laid a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “You need rest.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows just barely. “Could you if you were me?”

Timothy sighed. “I’ll have to give you that.”

Anna, pushing her hair impatiently out of her eyes, knelt near Eddie. She still had signs of distress on her face as she looked toward Timothy and Renee. “How is he?”

Timothy glanced at Eddie’s still pale face. “Stable. He’s stable.”

“That’s good.” She looked back toward Mary for just a second, then turned back. “Whatever they say, whatever Mary says, you can not let them tie him up.”

“I have no intention of doing so.” Timothy checked Eddie’s pulse again. “Eddie is in absolutely no condition to be tied up.”

Anna’s frown did not lighten.

“Why are you so insistent?” Renee asked. “I don’t mean that you shouldn’t care – I think that we all should – but you seem to have experience or something.”

Anna pursed her lips a moment and her eyes narrowed. Before either could say anything, she dropped her shoulders. “I… I’ve seen it before.” She stared at Eddie for a very long moment. She sighed heavily. “Not this exact thing, but… my best friend. I’ve seen close enough before.”

Renee shuddered. “You don’t have to tell us. I shouldn’t have pushed you to.”

“No. No.” Anna shook her head. “You didn’t push and I really brought it up. I never talk about it and… people tell me that I should. Even if not, maybe it would help you not to judge Kimberly so harshly.”

Timothy didn’t say anything. It would be difficult to judge her differently than seeing her as heartless.

He watched Eddie a moment and wondered if he listened. Probably. He’s not catatonic; just trying to get through the pain.

Anna sighed. “Kimberly’s daughter has been my best friend since the family moved onto our street when we were kids. She was the kindest person I’ve ever met, but also one of the most reserved. Even with me sometimes. Anyway…” She pushed another strand of hair out of her eyes. “Last year…” She held onto her injured arm and started again. “We were roommates in a house not far from here, actually. I woke up in the middle of the night to breaking glass. I tried to investigate carefully – I even took my phone. The hall light was on, and when I could see the living room, I could see Eden fighting a dark figure as best as she could. I think she gave him more than he bargained for, because he started hitting her with his flashlight.” Her voice choked a bit and her eyes glistened, but the tears didn’t fall over. “I started to go help her, call 911, something, – I hardly knew what – but I felt a hit on my shoulder and something cracked. I dropped my phone just before I heard the person behind me shout at the other to stop hitting the girl, and then they struck me on the head and I blacked out.”

Timothy looked at Renee, who only stared back with wide eyes.

Anna played with her fingernails. “I woke up a few minutes later, tied up near Eden. She couldn’t breathe correctly. A man stood over us, demanding that she tell him where ‘it’ was, but she didn’t answer. She just coughed and moaned.” Anna closed her eyes.

Eddie lay watching her. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t decide what he ought to say.

Timothy couldn’t think of anything himself and Renee had gone very still.

Anna took a deep breath. “I won’t tell you how bad she got. They ended up leaving us so she could think about it for awhile. Whatever ‘it’ was. I tried to get loose. I tried, but I couldn’t. My arm hurt so badly, it made me ill to move, but I tried…” A tear finally slipped down Anna’s cheek. “Eden couldn’t even speak. She tried, but was in too much pain, dizzy, sick… She got weaker and weaker. I yelled for help until, finally, the second man came in. Eden had fallen down by then. He ran over to check her…”

Timothy checked Eddie’s pulse again when she paused, if only to have something to do while she pulled herself together.

Anna cleared her throat. “The men panicked. She was dying and I don’t think they planned on murder. The one man said they could ‘talk to the other one’ and they booked it out. The one guy – the one who had checked her and yelled at the other to stop hitting her – cut Eden’s ties and then mine, before he ran. I called the paramedics, I tried to help her… It was too late. She died before we reached the hospital. Internal injuries and bleeding.”

Timothy felt nauseous, but still could think of nothing to say. Renee hadn’t moved and Eddie had closed his eyes.

Anna brushed away a second tear. “That is why Kimberly seems to have no heart. She had one – it’s just been ground to powder with grief and sorrow. Her husband died a little over a year before that.”

“Eden was her daughter?” Eddie asked without opening his eyes.

“Yes.” Anna sighed again, then looked up at Timothy. “It’s also why you cannot let Mary Dill convince anyone to tie up Eddie. You never know if it will make things worse. I’m sure it did for Eden.”

Renee shuddered, then tried to stand. She nearly stumbled, but using Timothy’s offered arm, pushed to her feet and moved away, her face terribly ashen. She almost tottered as she walked.

Anna watched her with lowering brows.

Timothy turned back. “I have no intention of alloying anyone to tie up Eddie. Neither does Ginger, I’m sure. Nor Adrian and Xavier for that matter. I think, he’s safe.”

She nodded barely.

“I’m really sorry about your friend though. That is beyond tragic.”

Eddie had opened his eyes again, but a wave of pain made him tense.

Anna picked at her nails some more. “Thanks. Like I said, I don’t talk about it much. Most people don’t want to hear it and I tend to prefer to keep it to myself anyway.”

“Ginger does that,” Eddie spoke very quietly. “She keeps the worst things to herself and won’t talk about it – even when she should. It doesn’t do anyone any good.”

“Perhaps not.” Anna rubbed her injured arm and looked toward the pregnant woman again. “I didn’t mean to upset Renee so much though. She still looks really pale.”

Timothy turned to see the woman, who sat alone now, in a seat a little distant. She really wasn’t far from anyone, but her detached expression as she stared at the table in front of her, really made her seem more alone than she truly was.

“Maybe she’s just processing. There’s been a lot going on.”

Anna shrugged, then winced. “Maybe. She didn’t even look that pale when she helped you with Eddie though, as far as I saw. But maybe. People are different.”

Timothy glanced around the café with a sigh of his own. They are. They are different indeed.

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