Citizen Insane

Chapter Eight





SEEING HOWARD’S CAR PARKED OUT front had brightened my mood. I hadn’t been surprised that he didn’t make it to the hospital. His work always took him longer than he predicted. It was the curse of being an FBI wife. More often than not, two hours could become two days or even two weeks.

Expecting to find him in the house, I searched each room quickly. He wasn’t downstairs, so I leaped up several stairs at a time while calling his name, fully certain he’d be in our bed, waiting to welcome me home with a kiss and a hug and other displays of affection worthy of an R rating. Maybe if I was really lucky, X rated activities would follow.

So much for censored fun. He was nowhere to be found. For good measure, I checked each of the girls’ rooms, but Howard was a missing entity. It seemed odd that his car was home and he wasn’t, but I was just too tired and achy to think about it anymore. My body needed a bed to lie down on. My mind needed sleep. Back in the husband-free room, I sat on the edge of the bed, slipped off one shoe then the other and let myself fall back. I’d strip down and get into some jammies in a minute, after giving the ol’ eyeballs a momentary rest . . .

I’m at the Cannes Film Festival. I’m there to review selected screenings but am driving down a seaside road in my van looking for a place to park. Crowds of A-list stars cover the sidewalks while paparazzi swarm like ants at a celebrity picnic. It’s a dream within a dream. Without warning, I lose control of the van—it’s driving itself and there’s nothing I can do. It swerves fast to the right, then again fast to the left. People are screaming and running every which way.

“Get out of my way!” I holler. “I’m a menace behind the wheel! They should revoke my license!”

Now I realize the van has turned into a Mini Cooper and Matt Damon is sitting next to me.

“Drive it like I did in the Bourne Identity,” he says.

“But Matt, that wasn’t you—that was a stunt driver.

He looks upset. “Really? Oh, Pooh Bear.”

Before I know it, Matt is gone and Winnie-the-Pooh sits in his place eating from a honey jar.

“Pooh Bear,” I say to myself. “Why does that sound so familiar?

When I look up, the Mini-Cooper is about to plow right into the entire cast of Porky’s Revenge.

My eyes opened before I witnessed the pigs fly.

Pooh Bear. Michelle’s last words before she lost consciousness. In all of the mayhem, I’d forgotten. Was it a message? Like Orson Wells whispering “Rosebud” just before he dropped the snowglobe then kicked the bucket in Citizen Kane? Or did she just have a thing for silly ol’ bears? My head started to pound as I relived the grisly scene from last night. I touched the throbbing spot and felt a nasty knot where the tree branch had struck me. Wouldn’t I be a lovely sight? The clock on my bed stand told me it was 7:05 in the morning. Not exactly a full night’s restful sleep, but I was awake now and sounds drifted from downstairs. Someone was home.

When I pulled the quilt away to sit up, I remembered I had fallen asleep uncovered. Then I noticed the note on the bed next to me. Shower before you come down. You don’t want to scare the girls. Came up with a story—just play along. The handwriting wasn’t Howard’s—it was Colt’s familiar scrawl. What a guy. It wasn’t until I looked in the mirror that I understood why the girls might become frightened. My shirt and sweatpants were stained with blood. Some dried caked remnants remained on my arms as well, even though they tried to clean it off at the hospital.

The shower felt so good that I didn’t want it to end. But taking up residence in the bathroom was no way to live, so I got out, dressed myself, slapped a band-aid over the black and blue goose egg on my forehead, turned my frown upside down and headed downstairs. The enticing aroma of fried bacon welcomed me before the girls did. I found them sitting around the table munching. Colt was bent over Amber, cutting a banana into her bowl of Rice Krispies. Bethany was reading a book while shoveling scrambled eggs into her mouth, and Callie ate a piece of toast while glued to the screen of her cell phone. A pretty typical morning in our house except I never fixed eggs and bacon on a school day. Colt would make some lucky woman a great wife one day.

“Hey there, Curly!” Having finished slicing the banana, he popped the last bit into his own mouth and threw the peel into my kitchen trash can. “Pull up a chair. The coffee is ready.”

Amber patted the table. “Sit next to me, Mommy! Look what Colt made!”

Next to her bowl of cereal was a pancake as big as the plate it sat on—two banana slices for eyes, a mouth made of chocolate chips and whipped cream hair. “I can’t eat it,” she said solemnly. “It’s too pretty.”

Before my butt hit the chair, a steamy cup of brew was placed in front of me, already fixed to my liking—a teaspoon of sugar and a dash of cream. While I sipped, a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and sliced tomatoes appeared. Holy cow. I wondered if I had I moved to Bizarre-o-world where mothers were treated as well as their children. “So, when did you guys get here?” I asked before scooping up some eggs.

“Your mom called the condo at six-thirty this morning,” answered Colt. “She had somewhere to be. I told her I’d pick up the girls and bring them home for you.”

I wanted to know why Howard didn’t bring them, but was afraid of the answer, so I decided not to ask. At least not until the girls were gone.

“Man,” I said smiling at my three beauties. “You must be tired.”

“Not me.” Amber was always in a good mood. The other two didn’t look up or answer. They were probably pooped and grumpy.

“Mommy!” cried Amber, “tell us about the polar bear.”

“Hmm?”

Bethany lifted her nose from the book. “Yes, Mom.” Her voice carried a suspicious tone. “Tell us about the POLAR BEAR.”

This must have been the story Colt concocted to explain last night’s adventure. He could whip up a dandy breakfast, but I was beginning to worry about his skills with believable fiction.

He cleared his throat. “I told them to let you eat first, before you told them all about accidentally hitting the polar bear. You know—the one you hit with your van. Last night. And why they had to go to their grandmother’s house.”

“I got it Colt.”

“Is he okay, Mommy? You didn’t kill him did you?” Amber was very concerned.

“No—”

“I don’t believe it,” protested Bethany. There aren’t any polar bears in Rustic Woods.”

“Colt said it ex-scape-ted from the zoo.”

“The only zoo around here is the Rustic Woods Zoo,” she did finger quotes in the air when she said the word zoo, “and all they have there is a buffalo, a couple of goats, and an emu with a peg-leg.”

Callie never looked up from her phone, but let us know how stupid she thought we all were by sighing loudly and mumbling, “Speaking of zoos . . .”

I didn’t comment on Bethany’s issue with the zoo, because it was true—the Rustic Woods Zoo was a poor excuse for an animal exhibit. The closest thing they had to a bear was a severely overweight opossum whose tail had been amputated after an unfortunate tangle with Snippy, the snapping turtle. “Well,” I said, making the best of this sad excuse for an excuse, “he’s fine, but they did have to medevac him to a polar bear hospital at the North Pole, because really, that’s where they belong anyway. I mean, if a polar bear wanders around at night in Rustic Woods, he’s only asking for trouble, right?”

“What’s medevac?” asked Amber.

“It’s an emergency helicopter,” answered Bethany. Then she rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re buying this story.”

Amber stuck out her tongue at Bethany who had returned to better fiction than we were providing. “Mommy wouldn’t lie to us, would you Mommy?” She touched my band-aid lightly. “Did you get hurt when you hit him?”

I nodded while wondering if I’d go to Hell for lying to my children. This was a little different than telling them that the green bits in the chicken and rice bake were chopped green apples instead of broccoli. Sometimes mothers just have to get the job done.

Callie jumped up from her chair and threw her backpack over one shoulder. “I’m outa here, freaks.” She was gone before I could think of a reply.

I sipped my hot coffee. “She’s in a mood today. I hope she doesn’t fall asleep in school.”

Colt was rinsing dishes in the sink. “She’s been that way since I picked them up. She mumbled something about her father never being around and me being around too much and then she didn’t open her mouth again.”

“Yikes.” It was hard enough raising a teen-ager, but adding a little marital strife into the mix made it even harder. “Okay girls,” I said, changing the subject. “Go upstairs and get ready for school. You have to be at the bus stop in twenty minutes.”

They cried out in unison, “Drive us, please! Drive us!” Their pleading eyes were too much to bear.

“But my van isn’t here.”

“Where is it?”

Actually, I didn’t know where it was. I’d been left out of the loop.

“It’s at the auto repair shop,” Colt stepped in. “When you hit a polar bear, even if you don’t hurt him very bad, it does a number on your bumper, trust me. I’ll take you guys—I have to head out soon anyway. You can ride in The Judge and all of your friends will be jealous that you’re being chauffeured in such a COOL car.”

“It’s an OLD car, with a silly name,” sneered Amber as she and Bethany ran upstairs to brush their teeth.

“Did you hear that?” he asked, taking the seat next to mine. “No one appreciates a classic.”

“It is a silly name.”

He pretended to be shot in the heart. “Now that hurts.”

“Is my van really at the auto repair shop?”

“Nope.”

“Do you know where it is?”

He leaned in close and grinned. “I know everything, beautiful.”

“Evidence?”

Colt nodded and sat back again. “What were you doing out so late anyway?”

I grinned back. “I thought you knew everything.”

“I know you were out in the middle of the night and hit a woman who’d been shot three times by a 45 caliber pistol at close range. A Glock 21—nice item. Wish I had me one.”

“How do you know that?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

“Connections?”

“Every PI has them. Especially super sexy ones like myself. But those connections didn’t tell me why you were out so late.”

Shaking my head, I began my sorrowful tale. “This crackpot on Green Ashe Place named Bunny.”

“Bunny Bergen—the one that Fredo mentioned?”

I shook my head. “His name is Waldo. And yes, Bunny Bergen—you know her?”

He smiled. “Not intimately.”

“Stop it—how do you know her?”

“I don’t really. She stopped by the condo one day looking for Howard. Said she was a friend of the family.”

“How would she know where he lives?”

“You mean she’s not a friend of the family?”

“A friend of the Addams Family maybe, but not mine. Howard’s up to something . . .”

My face started that puckering thing it does before the tear ducts start to fill. I didn’t want to cry. I tried really hard not to in fact. It was a sign of weakness and I had worked so hard the last few months to be strong. To be the heroine in my own life and in my daughters’ eyes. Well, that wasn’t going so well these days. Before I knew what was happening, the tears were spilling out onto my cheeks like lake waters overflowing the dike.

“Curly,” Colt hugged me. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m an idiot.”

“You’re a lot of things, but you’re not an idiot.”

“I am. I’m a boob and an idiot. He wasn’t home this morning was he? That’s why you brought the girls.”

He nodded.

“It’s all my fault. This date-me-and-win-me-back thing was my idea and now single women are falling at his feet. How can I compete with a body like Bunny Bergen’s? I’m losing him.”

“Trust me—if there’s one thing I know, you’re not losing him. Quick—dry those eyes. I hear the girls.”

I had just wiped my face clean when Bethany and Amber appeared with sweaters on and backpacks filled.

“Were you crying, Mommy?” asked Amber. “Is it the polar bear?”

“That’s it. The polar bear. The polar bear hospital just called me on my cell phone and told me that he’s just fine—he’ll be fishing in cold waters any day now. These are happy tears.”

Amber hugged me tight. “I love you.”

I kissed her head of red curls. She smelled so good. “I love you too.”

Bethany came in for a hug next and whispered in my ear. “Your cell phone is in the other room on the coffee table. It’s been there since yesterday.”

I’d been caught. “Thanks,” I said when she pulled away. “I love you too honey. We’ll talk about all of this. Soon.”

She smiled. So did I, but it was a bittersweet smile. They grow up too fast.





Colt scooted the girls out the door and said he would check in later. I was nibbling the last of my eggs when the phone rang. Part of me didn’t want to bother even looking to see who it was. I was tired, my body hurt and I just wanted to be left alone. The other part of me wondered whether the caller might be Howard. I succumbed, even though my muscles screamed at rising from the chair and taking two steps to the phone.

Despite my deep love for Peggy, I was disappointed to see her name on the caller ID. Okay, I’d answer and whine that Howard hadn’t called me.

“Hi, Peg.”

“You sound down in the dumps.”

“If there’s something lower than the dumps, that’s where I’m at.”

“Up for company? I’ve got a few minutes before I need to start errands.”

“Sure. Colt made coffee and it’s still warm.”

I hadn’t even placed the receiver back in its cradle when I heard a light tapping on my front door.

“Come in Roz!” I yelled.

The door opened. “How did you know it was me?” she asked as she came around into the kitchen from the foyer.

“You’re the very essence of polite. Someone else would have rung the doorbell. You didn’t want to bother me if I was resting.”

“I try,” she smiled. “The sky is looking really nasty out there. Are we supposed to get rain?”

“Haven’t caught the news for days now. We could be expecting the latest snowstorm in recorded history and I wouldn’t know it.”

“How do you feel?”

I pulled a coffee mug from the cupboard and handed it to her while pointing to the coffee pot. “You know that scene in The Matrix when Neo practices jumping between buildings but he doesn’t make it and falls to the ground, but it’s not really the ground, and he wakes up in the real world again?”

She stirred cream into her coffee. “What’s The Matrix?”

“Come on! I know you don’t watch many movies, but EVERYONE knows The Matrix.”

She shook her head. “Who’s in it?”

“Never mind. The magic is lost now. I feel like crap. My whole body hurts. You would have thought that the tree branch came to life and beat me up after I hit my head on it.”

We sat at the table. “Is Howard here?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.”

“I know. Don’t ask me why his car is here and he isn’t. There was no note, nothing. And it gets better. He wasn’t home this morning when my mom called him to pick up the girls.”

She cringed. “Sorry.”

“I’ll call him in a few minutes, when I feel like I can talk calmly instead of flipping out and going all Judge Judy on him.”

“So no more news, then?”

“My van is being held for evidence. I wonder if I should use Howard’s or get a rental?”

“Nothing about Michelle?”

We heard the door swoosh open followed by a, “Ciao, Bella!”

“Roz is here too!” I hollered. “Forgot to tell you—Peggy’s coming over.”

“Oh good!” Peggy said, making her kitchen appearance while fixing her wild red hair. “Mama Mia, has the wind started whipping up out there. It looks like the clouds are going to open up and dump buckets any minute.” Her face lit up when she saw the half-full coffee pot. “Oh! May I?””

“Help yourself.”

She snatched a mug from my cupboard and poured. “So, before I took the boys to school this morning, I stopped by the Alexanders’ house to see if I could help in any way.” She shook her head. “It’s bad.”

I was as anxious as Roz to hear how Michelle was doing. “What did her husband say?”

“I didn’t talk to him.”

“What’s his name?” asked Roz.

Peggy sipped. “Lance. Lance Alexander.”

“That’s it,” said Roz with a nod.

“Anyway, his sister was there,” Peggy continued as she sat across from me. “She said Michelle was in intensive care in critical condition—a coma. They’re not sure she’ll live.”

We listened sorrowfully. The reality sunk in and we had nothing else to say. A clap of thunder rattled the walls. Rain drops spattered against the window in front of my kitchen table. Leaves and bits of tree branches flew every which way. The sky was black even though it was only nine o’clock in the morning.

“Ouch,” said Peggy. “Maybe my errands will have to wait.”

“So,” Roz asked, getting back to the Michelle story, “his sister is taking care of their kids while he’s at the hospital?”

“Well, she’s taking care of the kids, but she told me he was at the police station this morning.”

Roz stood. “You still have those shortbread cookies?”

“Counter, next to the toaster.”

She brought the box over. “Do you think he knew about the fight Michelle had with Bunny?”

“Bunny said something about Michelle and Lance being in counseling, remember that?” I nibbled on a cookie myself.

“If they’re having marriage troubles, she may not be talking to him.” Roz was dunking her cookies into her coffee.

“I wonder how bad their problems are.” Peggy looked like she might take a shortbread herself, then shook her head and continued. “Killing bad, maybe?”

Roz furrowed her brows. “You think it was Lance?”

“Just wondering is all.”

“I’m sticking with the Bunny theory. All signs point to Bunny with a gun, I’m sorry.”

A powerful flash of light was followed by a house-jolting clap of thunder, causing us all to jump.

But it wasn’t the thunder that made me drop my cookie and scream.

It was Bunny Bergen staring at us through my window, bathed in the lightning flash sopping wet and bug-eyed just like Sissy Spacek in Carrie.