Cheryl Tardif - Children of the Fog

“There must be something you get out of it, something rewarding.”

He smiled grimly. “Catching the bastards.”

Good, she thought. That’s what she wanted too.

“You must travel a lot,” she said offhandedly.

“Not much. I have a little… problem.”

Her brow lifted. “What kind of problem?”

“I, uh…” His mouth curled wryly. “I don’t like flying.”

“Long waits and crowded airports,” she guessed. “Or nine-eleven.”

“None of the above. I’m afraid of flying.” He stood slowly and wandered toward the doorway to the living room. “I’m going to call your husband.”

For a few moments—only a few though—he had taken her mind off the horrible reality that her son had been brutally dismembered. She sensed that Jay Lucas was not used to showing his own vulnerability. Then she thought of hers—Sam. He was her number one weakness.

However, she had one more. And it was calling her name.

“Jay,” she said, standing on shaky legs. “I need to lie down for a bit.”

“I’ll clean up,” he offered. “Oh, and Philip is on his way.”

She excused herself and headed down the hall.

Her conscience argued, “Don’t do it!” But she was beyond listening. All she could think of was the box with Sam’s toe. She needed something to numb her pain, make her forget. And there was one thing that was guaranteed to do just that.

In Philip’s office, she grabbed a set of keys from the top desk drawer. Then she unlocked the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet—the one Philip had always told her was for business.

Business? Yeah, right!

She’d discovered the bottles a month ago when she was searching for an empty file folder. Philip had left the drawer unlocked. When she confronted him, he told her that the six bottles of ridiculously expensive Screaming Eagle Cabernet had been given to him by one of his wealthy clients after a successful corporate merger.

She had never touched the bottles—until today.

The wine called to her. Sadie… drink me… I’ll help you forget.

Seduced by its persuasive promise, she climbed the stairs, a corkscrew in one hand and a bottle in the other. As soon as she reached her bedroom, she uncorked the red wine and sniffed it. The aroma was intense and sulfurous—like a mix of earth, concentrated fruit and something murky that simmered beneath the surface.

She scrunched her face, wondering if there was any other alcohol in the house. But short of drinking the vanilla extract that her parents had bought in Mexico, this was the best she had.

“Suck it up, Princess.”

She didn’t even bother with a glass. Sipping directly from the bottle, she hardly tasted it at first. The wine slid down her throat, leaving a fiery trail behind. When her taste buds finally registered, she was shocked by the almost undrinkable quality of the wine.

“Must be an acquired taste,” she mumbled.

She tossed back the wine, forcing her throat to swallow. As she welcomed the warm infusion of alcohol into her body, a few drops spilled from the corner of her mouth and onto the cream-colored carpet. They resembled spatters of blood.

“What are you doing, Sadie?” she whispered.

The wine found its way to her mouth again.

Forgetting.

Half a bottle later, she was more than a little drunk. Hiding the Cabernet behind her nightstand, she staggered into the bathroom where a bottle of sleeping pills waited. She shook some into her palm. It was tempting to take them all, slip into a deep and permanent sleep, but she took one and put the rest back.

Then she flopped face-first onto the bed and passed out.

The days passed uneventfully.

While Jay worked overtime on Sam’s case, the fraud investigation into Philip and Morris resulted in both men being hauled down to the police station for questioning. When Sadie went to meet Philip, he was in a state of panic.

“Thank God you’re here,” he said, gripping her hand.

She yanked it away. “I’m not sure why you want me here.”

“Well, you are still my wife.”

“Not for long. Once the divorce papers are finalized—” She broke off. “You filed them, didn’t you?”

He looked away. “We can’t rush that now. We have more important things to think of. It’s just a matter of time before they charge me.”

“You should have thought about that before.”

“Damn it! I need you, Sadie! Why can’t you get that?”

“You need me,” she said slowly, testing each word. Her eyes flashed dangerously. “You don’t want me testifying against you. You want me to defend you, support you.”

“You should support me. We’re married, for Christ’s sake! I’ve given you everything.”

She glared at him. “Everything? You’ve given me a life of infidelity and lies. Our marriage was a sham, Philip. Right from the beginning. My mother was right.”

After that, she refused to talk to him. She sat in the interrogation room while he was drilled by investigators about his financial dealings. An oily-looking lawyer with slicked back hair and a suit that probably cost a month’s salary interrupted with the occasional whisper in Philip’s ear. At one point, a police officer asked her a direct question, but she shook her head. She wasn’t compelled to answer anything. And she wasn’t going to.

When they left the station, she hurried ahead of Philip, refusing to say a word. She strode across the parking lot, the scornful kiss of bitter wind blasting her skin. She hated the cold. Summer was what she loved. Summer meant taking Sam to the parks, swimming in Millcreek’s outdoor pool and going to the Valley Zoo.

She shook her head. Stop!

“So what happens now?” she asked, unlocking the car door.

Philip climbed into the passenger seat. “My lawyer told me to play dumb and let Morris take the fall.”

“How can you even think of doing that?”

“If I don’t, we could lose everything.”

She felt sick. “We’ve already lost everything.”

The drive home was awkward, but thankfully silent. As she pulled into the garage, she spotted a media swarm waiting on the doorstep. Ever since the fraud investigation had gone public, a toxic cloud of doom followed Philip everywhere, usually in the form of persistent reporters who waited like ravenous tigers for the right moment to pounce and rip into him.

Today, she was ready to give them a glass of wine on the side.

“Mr. Tymchuk!” a man yelled, tripping over his feet to beat the other carnivores.

Sadie scowled, pushed past the throng and slammed the door behind her, not at all feeling sorry for Philip who was trapped outside.

“You made this mess, Philip. Deal with it.”

The answering machine light flashed impatiently, demanding her attention. Setting her purse on the table by the door, she pushed the button.

“Thank you for supporting us in the past,” claimed a charity that she knew damned well she had never sent money to. She skipped to the next message, a droning telemarketer selling lawn care services.

“There’s still snow on the ground,” she muttered. Delete.

The next message made her pause.

“Ms. O’Connell, this is Detective Garner. I’m working your husband’s case. Please call me right away.” He left a number.

With a heavy sigh, she picked up the phone.

“We’d like you to come back to the station,” Garner said when she got through to him.

“I don’t think I—”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cut you off, but are you aware that there was an undercover detective at your husband’s law firm?”

Answering one question wouldn’t hurt Philip’s case.

“Yes.”

“The detective wants to talk to you— off the record.”