Lisa Unger - Smoke

He actually managed to get himself a little teary while talking to the pretty woman, who’d introduced herself as Vivian. And after a few minutes of comforting platitudes, a young man walked in, wearing the same outfit: white tunic and blue jeans. He handed Dax a cup of something hot. It smelled like some kind of herbal tea. Dax took it and thanked the kid, put it on the low coffee table in front of him. Vivian made no explanation for the kid or the tea. She slid a box of tissues across the table toward him. He took one and blew his nose loudly.

“The kid had a really glazed-over look to him. Not like drugged but more-” he said now to Lydia and Jeffrey, and paused as if searching for the right word. “Vacant.”

Lydia thought about what Matt Stenopolis had told her. Thelma Baker had used the words hollow and empty to describe Lily. Nothing could be further from the girl Lydia knew. Lily was a bright light, a firecracker. Anybody who met her, no matter how casual the encounter, would have seen that about her.

Dax said that Vivian had nodded to the young man and he left quietly.

“My mother always said that everything looks better after a good cup of tea,” said Vivian, leaning into him and smiling.

“My mother always said you’re a worthless piece of meat that will never amount to anything,” Dax had said, leaning away from the cup.

Vivian nodded solemnly. “Sometimes our parents, acting from their own place of pain, don’t realize how powerful their words can be. How we carry them with us for the rest of our lives.”

Dax asked if he could use the bathroom then, pretending that the conversation was making him so uncomfortable that he needed a break. He took the tea with him. Vivian rose to escort him.

“Just point me in the right direction,” he said as she exited the room with him.

“First door on the left,” she said. “Shall I hold that for you until you return?” She nodded to the cup in his hand.

“No. I’ll hold onto it.”

She looked at him strangely but couldn’t really insist without changing the texture of their encounter. She didn’t return to the room but stood and watched him as he made his way to the bathroom. A quick glance revealed a white hallway of closed doors.

Inside, he dumped the tea down the drain and folded the Styrofoam cup and put it in the back pocket of his pants.

“You were right,” Dax said to Vivian when he returned to her from the bathroom. “I do feel better after that cup of tea.”

She looked at him skeptically. He extended his hand and she placed hers in his. Her grip was steely, her kind eyes were searing into him now.

“I’m going to think about the things you said, Vivian. You’ve really made me feel a lot better. Thank you so much.”

“I’m glad,” she said quietly. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to sit awhile longer?”

“No, thanks,” he said, giving her his best sad smile. “I have a lot to think about.”

I just had the feeling she was watching me for the effects of whatever was in that cup,” he told them. “I washed my face and hung out in the washroom awhile,” he told Lydia and Jeffrey. “She was waiting outside for me when I exited. I just didn’t have the opportunity to dig around. I did notice one thing, though. That high-rise that stands behind the church? It’s connected by a walkway.”

“Do you have the cup?” Lydia asked eagerly.

“I already gave it to Striker when I came in. He said he’d get it to the lab, get a tox and fingerprint analysis.”

“Good,” said Jeffrey.

“What you said about the alarm system not having a brand name. Why is that relevant?” asked Lydia.

“Because the commercial alarm systems are about being a deterrent as much as about alerting a home owner that someone has succeeded in invading their house. They’re actually somewhat useless because, think about it, once you’ve heard that alarm, the system has already failed you. Like, someone is in your house, man; get your gun. But people like them because it gives them a false sense of security. People who actually need and want to keep people off the premises are going to find someone to install a real security system. On my way in I saw motion detectors, three exterior cameras that I could count without being conspicuous. Inside I saw laser sensors, and noticed that there were security shutters over the windows and doors that probably come down at night when the security system is activated. All very discreet, though. You’d not notice any of it unless you were looking and even then you’d have to know what you were looking for. Anyway, there are only a few companies that do that kind of work in the U.S. for the private sector. I’ll make some calls.”

“Do you think they’ll follow up with you? Did you give them a way to get in touch with you?” asked Lydia.

“She asked for my number so that she could call and check in with me but I told her I didn’t feel comfortable with that. I told her maybe I’d come back for that open meeting I read about on the Internet. I left then. She didn’t look happy.”

“You should have given them a number,” said Lydia.

“Oh, they’ll find me. Ignatius Bond is listed. I guarantee we hear from them within twenty-four hours. Vivian looked to be a bit of a die-hard.”

“You told her your name was Ignatius Bond?” said Lydia.

“Yes, you can call me Iggy.”

“That’s a pretty conspicuous cover name, Dax,” said Jeff.

“Exactly. So conspicuous that no one would ever suspect you’d make it up, yeah? Not like John Doe or some shit. I have a social for Iggy, the whole nine, so if they run a background check on me, I’m covered.”

“What does Iggy do?” asked Lydia, just out of curiosity.

“He’s a construction worker.”

It fit with his whole not-being-able-to-work-because-of-his-injuries thing.

“She’ll be calling, trust me. I think she was hot for me.”

“Naturally,” said Lydia. Dax leaned back again into the couch and stretched out his legs painfully.

“We need to get back in there,” said Lydia, looking at Jeffrey.

Jeffrey nodded and looked at Dax. “What do you think?”

“I’m going to make some calls to the security companies I know, find out what I can about that alarm system. When I know what we’re dealing with, we’ll try to get a look without Vivian breathing down my neck.”

Dax let a moment pass, then looked at Lydia sheepishly.

“Forgiven?” he asked, maybe feeling a little bad for jerking her around.

“We’ll see,” she said, rising. “I’m going to go check my email.”

“I have to go to physical therapy,” he said in a clear bid for sympathy as she walked past him.

“I hope it hurts,” she tossed back at him. “A lot.”

Dax looked at Jeffrey with a mischievous smile. Jeffrey didn’t return the grin. He’d been Dax’s partner in torturing Lydia in the past but he felt like Dax had stepped over the line and he didn’t like it.

“You need to be gentler with her,” said Jeffrey after Lydia had left the room. “She’s fragile these days.”

“She’s as fragile as a bag of nails,” said Dax.

Jeffrey looked at Dax sternly. Part of the love between Lydia and Dax, he knew, was antagonism… and most of the time it was pretty funny. But he was feeling protective of his wife. He walked over and shut the door.

“She just learned that her father, a man she barely knew, has died. And that,” he said, nodding toward the box that sat in the corner of his office, “is a box of things he left her. She’s not ready to deal with it-which means she’s not ready to deal with a lot of things regarding her father. Furthermore, it hasn’t been a year since we killed Jed McIntyre and she had the miscarriage. She’s just getting her feet under her and now she has to deal with this. So… just go easy on her.”