Chapter 28: The never-ending story

MORE PEOPLE ARE DEPRESSED at Christmas than any other time of the year. I get it. I catch myself thinking, “When I see Dag...” or “I need to tell Dag...” But Dag isn’t there. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have friends.

Almost homeless

“Merry Christmas,” Cinnamon said, lingering as she kissed me on the cheek when I entered the room. I noticed she spent considerably less effort on her peck on Angel’s cheek and somewhat more on Jordan. One of the other officers brought all our luggage up and told Jordan he’d be available whenever. Maizie came running to me, sniffed up one leg and down the other and decided I was okay. She stood on her hind legs until I knelt down on the floor to pet her.

I looked around my apartment trying to remember when I was last here. At first all I noticed was holiday decorations. Then I noticed the ‘tree’ was made of cardboard boxes. I started to tell Cinnamon it was very creative when I realized my things weren’t in their usual places. In fact, they weren’t anywhere. I know I left in a hurry but I didn’t strip the apartment.

“Cinnamon,” I said, “what’s going on?”

“Honey you forgot,” she answered. “With all that’s happened the past two months, you probably haven’t even looked at your mail. Your lease is up. The manager came by while I was here last week and handed me an eviction notice. Apparently, they’re redoing the apartments in this building and turning them into condos. It’s a big think now.”

“I’m being evicted? What am I supposed to do? I won’t go!”

“Sure you will, Honey. You’ve got that other little apartment. I met your landlady, Mrs. Prior, when she brought Maizie over a few days ago. The first thing she asked was when you were moving into the apartment. I told her it looked like the end of the month. I thought I’d get a head start for you and pack.”

There was too much going on for me to process, but geez! I go away for a few days and my whole life is changed. That wasn’t the end of the news. Teri was there and we hugged each other and started talking at once about how worried we were about each other. In the midst of our giggles of relief, she stopped and turned all serious on me.

“Deb, I’ve got a new boyfriend!” she blurted out.

“No way!” I said. “Why didn’t you bring him over. We’re having a party.”

“I invited him,” she said, “but I told him he couldn’t come in until you agreed.”

“Why not?” There was a knock on the door and I turned to answer it.

“Because you really need to give him permission to enter your home.” I pulled the door open and almost slammed it back shut in the face of Geoff Gilliam. I turned to Teri with my mouth hanging open to my knees.

“Him?” I said. Teri nodded. My best friend was dating a member of the Committee—okay, maybe an undercover federal agent on the Committee—who was a reputed playboy, sadist, and womanizer. I turned back to the door.

“Miss Riley,” he said. “I’m glad to officially meet you. I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot the first time.”

“Come in, Mr. Gilliam,” I said formally. “But if you are going to date my best friend, could we please call each other by our first names. I’m Deb.”

“I’m Geoff,” he responded with a smile. Killer smile. Poor Teri. “Pleased to meet you.” He stepped into the room and Teri caught him in a lip-lock that made the rest of us turn away to give them privacy.

“Well, merry Christmas, everybody,” I said, “and God bless us all.”

“Come to the tables, everybody,” Cinnamon called. She must have gotten card tables and chairs from everyone she knew. “The chef says he’s ready to serve.”

“Chef?” I asked. “Who now?” The question was answered as my advisor Lars Andersen walked in from the kitchen with a huge turkey on a platter. “Lars!” I exclaimed and rushed to hug him as soon as he’d set the turkey down.

“Merry Christmas, Riley,” he said.

Over dinner, Angel and I were called upon to relate our story. It was helped along by Jordan, Cinnamon, Teri, and Geoff all adding bits about their parts. The puzzle pieces all seemed to fit together somehow but Angel and I carefully avoided details about how Ray Hawkins departed from this world. We’ll talk to Jordan about it but no one needs to know Angel shot him with a harpoon. We just said he fell overboard and we didn’t see him again.

With Brenda Barnett in a Belize jail on drug running charges under a pseudonym the US Government won’t recognize and the Committee all agreeing to make restitution, it’s beginning to sound like my first case is wrapped up nice and tidy. I have to finish packing and then go to inspect my office before I start moving things over to Dag’s apartment.

Will I ever think of it as my apartment? Or is the whole life I’m living just a continuation of his? I’ve got to do some serious thinking.

New office

OMG! It’s beautiful. I got to the office this morning and Cinnamon was sitting behind a new desk where my old desk used to be. The walls have been painted a soft green. There are plants and a new rug.

Then I walked into Dag’s office. My office now. Cinnamon is amazing. The place is unbelievable. The pieces of furniture are generally smaller than Dag’s furniture was. It’s sleek and modern with lots of glass. Maizie came in with me and went trotting over to the girliest little bed you’ve ever seen. She was so proud of it!

There’s no place to hide anything. My desk is wide open with nothing more enclosed than a pencil drawer. On it was the remote control for the new 52-inch plasma TV screen that hangs on the opposite wall. The old remote sat beside it.

And pictures. She brought some of my photos from the apartment and put them on my desk. The one of Dag and me at Pier 57 sits by itself on one side of the table. I’ll keep that one here. I don’t know how to tell Cinnamon the others are all fakes.