Hold On

Not even knowing what was happening.

How had it gone from a drunken fuck, after which he was going to blow me off, to him investigating Trent and Peggy, demanding I find a time when I could offer his brand of payback, and him not only telling me I was pretty, but I was “worth it?”

It would seem me and Merry had to have a chat where we were not fighting or talking about my ex and his bitch’s diabolical plans.

And I would suggest just that to him later, when he’d cooled down and when we were both far apart from each other.

I left the storm windows where they were. Merry wanted to put them in, at that juncture, I was not going to test his mood by going against his wishes.

Instead, I went to the laptop me and Ethan shared.

I powered that baby up.

Then I found Riverside Baptist Church and its program Faith Saves. I read every word.

Twice.

*

“Takin’ my last break,” I told Jack, who was behind the bar.

“Make it a good one,” Jack replied.

I said nothing and went to the office.

Mondays during the day were not big days at J&J’s. We had the odd drifter. Weather allowed, we had biker boys who knew J&J’s was welcoming, so if they slid through town, they’d stop to play a couple of games of pool and throw back some brews. We had regulars with no jobs but the miraculous ability to buy drinks.

I was on early for the week, going nights next week, which was Feb and Morrie’s way with scheduling to make sure Ruthie nor me took a hit from having to do all early.

Luckily, things looked up around five, and when I did early, I usually got my breaks and lunch out of the way when it was not after five because that was when the tips were made. I didn’t need to be sitting on my ass, eating, when I could be making money.

Although cops had imprecise schedules, detective shifts were eight to five officially. If anything happened beyond that, the on call cop went in.

So unusually that day, I waited for my break until six thirty, when Merry was off. The autumn light was waning, which meant the storm windows were probably in before I phoned him.

He picked up on the second ring, greeting, “Hey.”

“Hey,” I replied, and it occurred to me that, although we had each other’s numbers, I didn’t think I’d ever phoned him.

We’d texted things, like him asking me, You bringing that bacon potato salad to Vi’s party? (which meant, bring it, and so I always did), and me texting him, Colts lost. You owe me twenty bucks.

But I’d never phoned him.

“Cher?” he called, and I shook my head sharply.

“Looked up Riverside Baptist Church. That Faith Saves thing looks pretty legit.”

“They’re not gonna tell everyone on the Internet they’re freaky-ass zealots intent on saving the world by kidnapping recovering addicts and brainwashing them.”

My hand tightened on my phone, my mind thinking of Trent’s devotion to Peg. “Holy fuck, Merry. Do you think that’s what they’re doing?”

There was humor in his deep voice when he replied, “Calm down, sweetheart. No. Just tellin’ you as you look into the shit that I feed you, don’t judge a book by its cover. We get it, we won’t go surface—we’ll look deeper. But I’ll do the digging.”

Okay, right, this was one of several things that had to stop, and to stop it, we had to talk.

“I have Wednesday and Friday off this week,” I declared.

“Fuck, I just got the weekend off,” he returned.

He was thinking I was planning payback time.

“Can we do lunch on Wednesday?” I asked.

“Mike and me bought a case this weekend, which means we’re officially over our recommended caseload. Until we clear some, lunch is a memory for me.”

I moved to the chair at the desk and sat in it before saying, “We need to talk, Merry.”

“What’re we doin’ right now, Cher?”

“I’m on a break.”

“So call me when Ethan goes to bed.”

“That’ll be late.”