Chapter 35

“Excuse me,” said Bea to the woman at her front door.

“Bea, I know this is crazy, but Blake and Ava suggested, well, for me to talk to you,” said Marian.

“Blake and Ava,” said Bea Evans.

“Yes,” said Marian. Bea stood aside to allow the last person she expected to see at her door to come in.

It took over an hour to even make a semblance of sense out of what Marian Carton needed to get Bea Evans to want to do.

“Get yourself a cup of coffee in the kitchen,” said Bea. “I’m calling Blake.” Marian stood and headed for the kitchen. She delayed as long as she thought was appropriate and then reentered the front room. Bea was seated next to the phone and looking confused and a little shocked, but conscious.

Bea looked up, slowly looked up at her guest. “Okay, Blake says you’re legit. I’ll talk to the man. That said, do not expect a positive result. But maybe he’ll at least be open to talking to you. You giving back all of that money might get you a bit of time with him, but more than that...”

“I am fully aware,” said Marian.

“You took too long, Marian, you took too long.” Her visitor nodded.

I was serving a couple of college students and they were happy college students; well three beers could well be cause for happiness. She took a seat several stools down the bar from the students.

“Well, if it isn’t Beatrice Evans, my friend; I guess I’m still that, even though I haven’t seen you in months,” I said.

“You guess?” she said.

“I’m sure you know that I know you know,” I said. She looked me straight in the eyes. This is one friend that I didn’t cotton to losing in spite of everything.

“Yes,” she said. “I know your situation. It’s real bad. I cannot imagine how that must affect you.”

“Yeah, well that’s for sure. Nobody can know how that feels who hasn’t experienced it,” I said.

“I’m sure that’s so. I’ve read some stuff about guys who come back from the war zone with injuries like yours. Some of them adapt, some of them don’t. I sure as hell hope that you are one of the ones who does,” she said. I snorted.

“Yeah, well I’ve been trying for fifteen years that should tell you something,” I said. The college boys raised their empty steins for a refill.

“I’ll be right back,” I said. “Don’t go away.”

I knew she wasn’t about to leave. She was for sure on a mission, probably a mission on behalf of her boss, mister rich guy. I helped out the young bucks down at the other end of the bar, and returned to the war zone.

“So, what does your boss want? I hope it’s not forgiveness; I’m fresh out of any of that as far as the two of them is concerned,” I said.

“As a matter of fact, it’s not, at least not directly,” she said. Now I was intrigued.

“What does ‘not directly’ mean?” I said. I really was curious.

“It means that Marian Randall has paid him back the money, and she wants to meet with you,” said Bea.

“Excuse me? What did you say?” I said.

“You heard right. And I couldn’t believe it myself, so I checked. It’s straight,” said Bea.

“She paid back the money, all of it?” I said.

“Yes, because she wants to meet with you,” she said.

“I need you to do me a small favor. I could do it myself, but I need you to do it for reasons of my own,” I said.

“Could you give Candace a call and tell her I want to talk to her. Tell her whenever it’s convenient for her,” I said.

“Okay,” said Bea. “But a meet up with Marian?”

“Maybe after I talk to Candace,” I said. “Oh, and it’s Marian Carton, not Randall.” I got a smirk for my words from my visitor.

My reason, and there really was only one, was that I wanted Candace to tell me the same story that Bea had. Bea may have been asked to embellish the story a little, or maybe un-embellish it. Candace would give it to me straight up; I had confidence in her when it came to stuff like this.

“Yes, I can do that,” said Bea. She ordered a beer and we talked some more about mundane stuff. The college boys plopped a couple of bills down on the counter and cut country just as Bea was beginning to enjoy my company.

“Okay, keep the bar taps in good order,” she said, as she rose to leave me alone; the place was empty except for us. Well, it was almost quitting time for me, 4:55 p.m. anyway: dinner hour for most folks or nearly so.

So, Marian wanted to talk to me. I guess I knew why.

I determined to talk to her, Marian, if Candace was in favor of it; and if, it was not some kind of pity game that the bad guys were putting on me. I really didn’t need any of that.

“Honey,” said Daniel. “Just remember what we talked about. The man is calling you in on this because he believes that you will tell him the straight of it. This could be, no is, very important to him, maybe even his whole life.”

“Of course, it is. And of course, I will be truthful with him. I’m the one who told you that,” said Candace.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said, smiling. “Anyway, I’m just adding emphasis.”

“Hmm,” she said.

It was Saturday, and I was scheduled for a half-day. Candace had called me to ask about that, my schedule. We’d be meeting at my place in minutes if she was gonna be on time.

The buzzer buzzed. I went to let her in. She was on time.

“Come in,” I said, opening the door. She did so.

It was 2:00 p.m. but I did have the rest of the day free. “There’s a pot of coffee, just finished brewing, help yourself,” I said.

“Okay, Dad,” she said. I still felt a little funny with her calling me dad. But I guess I liked it. I wondered how my enemy liked it or if he even knew. She had helped herself to a cup of java, and now she was sitting across from me, waiting.

“Okay,” I said, breaking the ice. “You know why I asked you to come over.”

“Yes, Aunt Bea told me. And just so you’ll know, Mom and Dad, knew I’d be coming over. I guess they see things as them having skin in the game too,” said Candace.

“Hmm, they do, do they,” I said, and it was not a question.