Tap Dance (Dance Series)

chapter Twenty Nine



Looking around my apartment, I was starting to see it was finally taking on a personality. Starting over had been hard, but as things came together, I could see that the new furniture and knickknacks were helping my apartment become my home.

My new home.

Less blue and a bit more formal than what I had before, but then I had gotten the furniture in the divorce, so it had been outdated.

But I especially liked seeing Ram sitting in a corner of my new sofa as we waited for the Feds to arrive.

The buzzer sounded and I made my way to the intercom next to the door.

"Yes?"

"Federal Agents Grant and Freeman to see Marianne Gibson," the tinny voice announced.

I pressed the release button glancing at Ram.

Opening my apartment door, I saw two men in suits coming my way.

"Ms. Gibson?" The taller one asked while they both showed me their badges.

"Please come in," I offered, stepping to the side.

They shook hands with Ram and I saw his eyes narrow at the taller one.

"How can I help you?" I asked sitting on one of the barstools since the only available seating was on a small section of my couch.

"Chief Patel says that you have information regarding Steven Quinlan," Agent Grant explained.

The questions started.

And they continued.

Then circled back again.

I told them everything I knew, about Steve's phone call and visit.

I had started shaking about five questions in, and the tremors hadn't gotten any better the more they questioned me.

"Am I a suspect? Do I need a lawyer?" I finally asked, starting to put together a picture of what my asshat ex-husband had gotten himself into just based on their questions and the way they were phrased.

A scary picture.

"Not at this time," Agent Freeman finally spoke. All of the questions had come from Agent Grant who was beginning to remind me of that weird-o guy in the Matrix with his perfect hair, perfect suit, perfect diction.

They both stood up at the same time even though there wasn't a smidgeon of communication between them before they stood.

Creepy.

"Here's my card, Ms. Gibson," Agent Grant said. "If you hear or see from your ex-husband again, please call. We believe that his life is in danger and, by being in contact with him, that danger could spread to you. If there is anything else you know, or are uncomfortable talking about, you need to tell us as soon as possible. Withholding information could see you charged with willful obstruction in a Federal investigation. "

I swallowed thickly as I nodded, my knees shaking so hard they were knocking together.

"It almost goes without saying, Ms. Gibson, but we will need those CDs at the earliest opportunity," Grant said, looking me square in the eyes.

I nodded again and led them to the door.

"Thank you for your time, Ms. Gibson," Agent Freeman murmured as they left.

Ram held back, but appeared that he, too, would be leaving. I got a brief hug and briefer kiss with a promise he'd call later.

I stood at the door after I closed it, my mind a whirl.

I slowly changed out of my 'meet Feds' clothes before heading back to the kitchen where I caught myself staring in the depths of my fridge without seeing anything in front of me. My mind wouldn't settle at all.

I reached for the folding stool and went into the cabinet above the fridge. Alcohol. I wanted a shot or two of something potent. I pulled out the first bottle my fingers touched. Patron Tequila.

I downed the first shot, then refilled my glass and wandered into my living room to sit in the corner of my couch to sip it.

There were things the Agents asked about which bothered me. Like how they knew so many personal details about me, how they knew personal details of when Steve and I were married and about my life now.

Their questions made me uncomfortable, fearful and vulnerable all at the same time.

I had told them of Steve's phone call and the late night visit and they had seemed unsurprised.

Ram seemed very surprised when I had told him.

Did they already know about those?

Ohmigod.

Were they watching me?

Did they, like, sit out in their car and then follow me around?

I sucked back the remaining tequila in the shot glass and went to pour another.

I stood there and looked at the short, squat bottle of Patron. The alcohol wasn't helping and another shot might send me over the edge.

Especially since I hadn't eaten much at lunch.

What I wanted to do was talk to Ram.

I wanted to continue our 'to be continued' moment from earlier.

We hadn't made love since we had gotten back together. True it had only been four days, but not so long ago we were looking for ways, were inventing ways if we had to, in order to assuage that physical hunger which was always been between us.

Ram was still affectionate, but it wasn't the same. Everything between us was just a half of a step off. The easiness we'd had from the moment we met just wasn't there.

I put the tequila away and washed out my shot glass.

I was just about to do another look through the fridge when my phone rang with the Crystal's ring tone, Pink's U + Ur Hand, which cracked me up every time I heard it.

"Hey, Marianne! Come to dinner with me at Luigi's. Dex gave me a twofer coupon. You up for it?"

Actually I was.

"Sure, but can you swing by and pick me up?" I figured being pulled over for drunk driving after having a sit down with Federal Agents wouldn't earn me any points with Ram. And I was going for as many points as possible until we, the us kind of 'we', came back.

"No worries. Be there in thirty," she said before ringing off.

I went back into my room to change. While Luigi's wasn't as upscale as Henry's or the Roses, I don't think yoga pants and a racer back t-shirt was appropriate either.

Like always, we had a great time although we were both a bit subdued. I told her about being back with Ram and how we are dating exclusively which made her smile.

"So Adler's out of the picture," she asked with a smirk.

"Yeah."

"I'm still floored you were seeing two guys at the same time," Crys said with a laugh.

"Hey, little girl, I've heard you've been known to string along a few at a time yourself," I shot back.

"This is true. But they were just boys. You were stringing along two very fine, very gorgeous examples of manly, male-type flesh. Big difference."

I smiled back and watched as she finished the rest of her lasagna.

The waitress was just taking away our plates when Crys spoke again.

"Marianne, do you ever feel like a spare part?" she asked, playing with her napkin, not looking at me.

"Spare part?"

"Yeah, you know. Like when somebody takes a thing apart and puts it back together but has parts left over. Parts that were probably important but they didn't know where they went or what they even did to make that thing work?"

She glanced up at me and I saw something in her face that made my heart hurt.

"Are you feeling like a spare part, Crys?" I asked softly.

She nodded.

I was quiet as I thought.

I didn't know all that much about her since she played her cards pretty close to her chest. But from the things she said before and now with this 'spare parts' question I could tell she'd been hurt. Had her heart kicked in at some point.

"I don't think you’re a spare part, honey. And I don't think Cait, Leila or Frank do either. You're a bright, sassy, amazing part of my life. Someone who can see the shit I do and call me on it, which tells me that you are my friend, my close friend."

I thought for a moment trying to find the right words.

"Have you ever heard of Eleanor Roosevelt?" I asked.

"Sure."

"She was married to one of the presidents and she said, 'No one can make you feel bad without your permission.' Which I think you get, especially from the text you sent to Leila regarding her first day back at school."

Her eyes when they met mine were beginning to look wet.

"Okay. You can shut the f*ck up now, Marianne."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. The true confessions portion of this evening is over."

We shared a smile and ordered dessert.

"How's Leila doing?" I asked.

"She's getting there, I guess. I know she played it off, but I think Dex hurt her a lot more than she said. Even on a good day he's a dick, but he's been even worse since he got rid of Leila."

"Would you have ever put the two of them together?" I asked smiling. They made a beautiful couple from just a looks standpoint but he did tattoos for a living and she was a college professor with a doctoral degree.

"Oh, f*ck no! But, man, when I saw them together at the shop? Fireworks!" Crys laughed.

The bill came and Crys threw the coupon and a couple of bills on the table. Copying her I threw in a couple of bills myself. That was another reason why I liked going out with Crystal. There wasn't the fifteen minutes of figuring out who ordered what and then breaking out the calculator.

And, whatever was left over was the wait person's tip, which is always a good thing.



*.*.*.*.*

I kept slapping it and slapping it but the damn alarm clock wouldn't shut up. Grumbling I turned on the light and realized that it wasn't my alarm, but my phone that was making all the noise.

"Hello," I answered, my voice sounding as groggy as I felt.

It was the hospital calling about my aunt. They had been unable to get in touch with Greg Gibson and were notifying her next emergency contact and could I come down?

Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod.

The lady on the phone had not given any additional information but simply kept asking me to come down.

I drove like a madwoman to Grantham General, thankful that I wasn't stopped for speeding.

They said that Aunt Estella had been brought in unconscious and they're were doing tests to determine how extensive her injuries were. They had tried to contact Greg but, as usual, the rat bastard wasn't answering.

They had me fill out paperwork, pages and pages of paperwork, but my knowledge on my aunt's wants, medications and prior medical history was really limited compared to the questions asked.

This bothered me. Bothered me, a lot.

I saw officers Matthews and Reid and waved to them.

"What happened?" I asked.

"One of the neighbors called in around eleven complaining about screaming coming from Mrs. Gibson's house. We were tied up and made our way over maybe twenty to thirty minutes later. The lock had been popped and we found her unconscious in the kitchen. Looks like the house was trashed just like yours. Tim and the Chief are there now," Officer Matthew's explained.

"How's her condition?" Reid asked.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Think you have to fill out the paperwork to prove you're worthy enough to get that information."

They smiled before moving back towards the doors.

I tried calling Greg, but his phone just went to voicemail. The rat bastard.

I glanced at the clock as I tried to make myself comfortable in the plastic seat. They'd said they'd let me know when she was taken to her room.

I must've fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, Ram's hand on my shoulder.

"Hey, honey," I said sitting up and trying to move. I was stiff from sitting in one place too long.

"How's she doing," he asked softly, brushing my hair away from my face.

"Dunno. They said that they would tell me when she was done with the tests and they put her in a room."

"What time was that?" he asked.

"Uhm. Around one, I think." I yawned and glanced at the clock which was reading after four. "Let me go ask them again."

I was at the front desk, when I felt Ram's arm come around me, pulling me away. There was a terrible noise but I couldn't figure out what it was or where it was coming from until he shoved my face into his shirt.

It was me.

I was the one making that horrible noise.

Because I had just lost my beloved aunt due to massive head trauma.