Chapter One – The Mother of all Bad Days

The call came late in the afternoon. Sitting alone at her desk, Gwen's mind had wandered away from her current assignments to the state of her floundering relationship. She had been chewing on a hangnail on her thumb while she worried about how distant her girlfriend had been for the past month. She knew that this was a busy time for her lover’s firm but they hadn’t been able to spend the night together since Irene had returned from vacation.

Vacation, hah, Gwen thought to herself. She tried to fight down the feelings of jealousy but her stomach churned at visions of what might have happened when her lover of three years was in Michigan at the Women’s Music Fest. She wouldn’t have been able to get away in August but that didn’t lessen the blow when she wasn’t even invited. Irene had just told her she was going. They did have a talk before she left about boundaries and behavior and Gwen was trying to be a rational adult about everything but she couldn’t stop the thoughts.

When the phone rang, she was dabbing at her bleeding thumb with a tissue. “Thornton, Sex Crimes.”

“Hello, this is April from Dr. Boudan’s office.”

Gwen sat up with a snap. “Oh, yes. I was expecting your call.”

“The doctor can see you next Thursday. You’ll need to arrive at noon on Wednesday for the tests. You’ll stay overnight at the hospital and the doctor will do an exploratory on Thursday and you will be released on Friday.”

“That’s just next week.”

“It is my understanding from your physician that you need to be seen as soon as possible.”

“Oh.”

“Now, did you have any questions?”

“Will I have the results before I leave?”

“Yes. I’ll schedule time on Friday morning for any questions to be answered and will arrange for the results to be shipped to your physician for any necessary follow-up.”

“Thank you.”

“Excellent. I will make the appointment and send you an email confirmation and lab slip. Don’t eat for twelve hours before the tests.”

“All right.” She put down the phone in a daze. She knew from the serious tone that her doctor had taken at her appointment on Monday that something was wrong. In her wildest dreams, she hadn’t expected things to move so fast.

She’d been plagued by over a year of minor infections and cuts that took forever to heal. Lately, she had a nasty cough that she couldn’t shake. Gwen finally decided to go see her doctor after her partner had complained during their last stakeout about her scaring off the perps.

When Dr. Ungava called her to say that she had referred the case to a specialist at Johns Hopkins, she had been in shock. She never took off a day of work except as a last resort and now she had to take off three days for a bunch of tests and no real explanations.

She knew that she should be asking more questions and demanding answers but she was too scared. Afraid of the truth, Gwen forced herself to make the necessary arrangements and trusted that everything would be all right. Instead of plowing through the online ticketingsites, she called a travel agent to try and get her an affordable flight to Baltimore. With less than a week’s notice and no weekend stay, she dreaded her upcoming credit card statement.

Putting the ball in motion, Gwen went to the bathroom and washed her face and hands of the slick sweat that had collected there after her phone call. She walked back to her desk and opened a file, determined to put her health concerns out of her mind. Staring at the picture of the badly bruised lower torso of a three-year-old girl, she let the familiar anger help her focus on bringing justice to victims of sexual crimes.

She worked for an hour after her partner had left to go home to his family. Aware that she was putting off the inevitable, she secured her desk and headed downstairs to the parking garage for the trip to the outskirts of town.

That evening’s drive was a bright spot in her day. There was no traffic to speak of and it seemed that every light was perfectly timed for her pass through on the green.

Gwen parked the car and breathed a sigh of relief. She was glad to be home and for the chance to finally react to the phone call. Halfway up the stairs that led to her unit, she saw her downstairs neighbor sitting in a hunched up ball in front of her door.

“What’s up, Jenny?”

“Can I talk to you?” Her neighbor’s voice was thick with emotion and her red-rimmed eyes were swollen from crying.

For three months, Gwen had avoided her neighbor, knowing that this conversation was coming. The way her luck was running these days, it figured that she'd have to have it now. “I’m a little wiped from work. Can we do this some other time?”

“No, I need to talk to you now.”

“All right.” Gwen resigned herself to an unpleasant evening. She had found out by accident that her best friend had been cheating on her partner. It seems that Jenny might have finally found out as well.

“Do you want something to drink?” Gwen asked, as she walked into her living room and turned on a couple of lights. Her apartment mirrored the one downstairs with a large sitting room, formal dining room and two bedrooms separated by a large bathroom. The three women had bought the house two years ago and had painstakingly restored it to its original beauty. The tenancy in common arrangement had suited them all well but Gwen knew that they were facing their first real test.

“I’m still not drinking.”

“Oh, I thought you could drink again now that the baby had been born.”

“I’m breastfeeding.”

“Sorry. I should have known.”

“How? You haven’t see me or Esther for a while.”

“I’ve been a little busy.”

“That might work on someone who wasn’t trapped inside all day with a baby.” Jenny sat down on the oversized armchair and pulled her legs up to her chin. “I know that you come home alone and you stay alone.”

“Did you want something from me? Because I can tell you that, after the day I’ve had, I don’t have the patience to deal with this.”

“Don’t get offended. I’m not insulting you. I’m just telling you what I know.” She followed Gwen into the kitchen and pulled out a seat. While the other woman pulled out a box of cereal and poured out a bowl, she sat there, staring silently.

“What?” Gwen asked, a spoonful of Frosted Flake near her mouth.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“Don’t play stupid, Gwen, it doesn’t become you.”

Gwen dropped her spoon.” How could I? She’s my best friend.”

“She’s my wife! And the co-parent of my child!”

“She’s the one you need to talk to. Not me.”

“I thought we were friends.”

“We are. It’s just that best friends sometimes trump being friends with their lover’s.”

“Why didn’t you make her stop? You know how devastating being played is.”

“Don’t you think I tried?” Gwen stood up and kicked the Nerf soccer ball that was on the floor. It bounced off the refrigerator and rolled back to her feet. “She wouldn’t even listen to me.”

“Was it something I did? Or didn’t do?”

“Please don’t cry.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Jenny sniffed and accepted the tissue. Blowing her nose loudly, she said. “How could this happen?”

“I don’t know. I would have put good money on you two being together forever.”

“Was it Esther?”

“You know she’s mad about your child.”

“But she’s been fussing a lot lately.” Narrowing her eyes, she stared at Gwen. “How long has this been going on?”

Drumming her fingers on the table, Gwen shook her head. “I don’t know when it started.”

“When did you find out about it?”

Uncomfortable, Gwen shrugged.

“Tell me!”

“I found out after my birthday party.”

“In April?”

“Yeah.”

“I was still pregnant then.”

“I know.”

“And you didn’t think I needed to know that tidbit of information?”

“I didn’t want to add to your stress. I also didn’t know how serious it was.”

“Oh, and that makes it okay? The lady’s pregnant, so don’t tell her that she’s a cuckold.”

“Only men can get cuckolded.”

“That’s not the point and you know it.”

“Talk to her. See if you can talk some sense into her.”

“She never wants to talk.”

“Maybe you should get a professional involved.”

“A therapist? You, of all people, know she won’t agree to that.”

“What do you want her to do?”

“I want her to stop seeing her.”

“Then tell her that you know and you want her to quit.”

“And if she won’t stop?”

“You need to think about what’s best for you and Esther.”

“You think I should leave?”

“Can you stay with what you know? Can you keep it from destroying everything?”

“No.” She shook her head slowly, the mass of brown curls bouncing. “I knew we were having
bad patch. She never wanted to make love and she was always taking showers when she got home.” Laughing shortly, Jenny accepted another tissue from Gwen. “ God, I’m a fool. I thought I could trust her.”

“I know her brother’s death hit her hard.”

“That’s not an excuse for sleeping around.”

“No but it might be for cutting her a little slack.” Gwen sighed again. “I’m sorry, Jenny.”

“I know. I know this is hard for you.”

“You have no idea. I’ve known for months that I could be losing both my friends over this."

“She placed you in an untenable situation. My busting in here and crying to you just makes it worse.”

“I’m still your friend.”

“But you’re still her friend first.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not going to lie. I might understand why you didn’t tell me but I’m having a hard time forgiving you.”

“I’m sorry. It was a Hobson’s Choice.”

The two women sat at the table in silence. Gwen played with the wilted flakes in her bowl and kept her eyes on the table. She was surprised when Jenny spoke.

“I always envied your friendship.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You two practically knew each other from the womb.”

Gwen laughed. “Not quite. We became friends in middle school.”

“Still, you remained friends into adulthood. I don’t keep in touch with any of my high school chums and only a few of my college ones. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone who has really known me as long as the two of you have known each other.”

“Well, it’s not all beer and skittles. We know too much about each other and it happens that sometimes our voices sound too much like a condemnation and we ignore the truth.”

“She fucked us all up when she started fucking that dancer.”

Gwen nodded her head. She knew that she needed to try and get something in her stomach but the emotional day was playing havoc with her intestines.

“I should go. You look half dead.”

Her head snapped up. “What?”

“Nothing. Sorry. It’s just that you’ve don’t look so good.” “At Gwen’s questioning stare, she shrugged. “You’ve got bags under your eyes and you’re paler than normal.”

“In case you never noticed, I’m generally pretty pale.”

“Yeah but, now, you’re almost gray. Are you okay? Were you going to the doctor?”

“I went the other day. I just need to take better care of myself.”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend to help you do that?”

“Not so’s you’d notice,” Gwen said, bitterly. She raised a hand against any further questions. “I really need to eat something and head to bed. You go and take care of yourself and Esther.”

Reluctantly, Jenny untangled herself from the chair and went to the door. When she turned, she was startled how the low light make the stark planes of Gwen’s face stand out. She seemed almost cadaverous. Watching her cross her arms in front of her chest, Jenny knew that she wouldn’t tolerate any more nurturing. “Thanks, Gwen. Call me if you need anything.” Closing the door gently behind her, Jenny couldn’t help but wonder if her neighbor wasn’t pushing herself too hard.

Chapter Two – Getting Any Worse?

It was six o’clock the next morning and Gwen had been paged to the dingy alley and its grisly contents two hours ago. She had already spoken to the dog walker who had come across the body of the young woman and was about to speak to the officers returning from the initial canvassing when her cell phone rang.

“You stupid fuck.”

“Well, hello to you too.” Gwen put her hand over the receiver. “I need to take this,” she said to her partner as she walked away to a place somewhat clear of activity. She thought about shutting herself in her car but knew that she wanted to pace. “Michelle, I’m working here. Make it quick.”

“Okay. Here’s quick—I will never forgive you for telling her.”

“I just confirmed what she already knew.”

“We were friends, Gwen.”

“I told you once before and I’ll tell you again. I won’t lie for you. Not now. Not ever.”

“I’m glad you brought ever up because I never, ever want to have anything to do with you. We are no longer friends. I don’t want to even know you.”

“I can’t believe you. You were wrong to sleep around on your partner and you were wrong to put me in the position you did.”

“You shouldn’t have told her.”

“You should have kept your pants on or at least had the decency to end one relationship before you started another.”

“I wasn’t planning to end this relationship but your meddling probably did.”

“You think she was just going to be okay with your sleeping around?”

“She hasn’t wanted to do anything since the baby was born.”

“The baby? You mean, your daughter, Esther?”

“Who else? I just wanted someone to think about me for a change instead of just going on about what the baby did today.”

“Don’t put this all on her. Do you think I didn’t notice when you left my birthday party to sneak a quick one?”

“You knew about that?”

“Hello? I’m a detective. My job is to be observant.”

“Why did you wait until the Memorial Day picnic to bring it up?”

“Because I hoped you’d get it out of your system.”

“Didn’t work.”

“Apparently not.”

“I first hooked up with Monica at New Year’s.”

“That long? Then I know that this wasn’t about Esther.”

“Well, a little. She was acting all crazy.”

“Dude, she was home alone, all day. At least you could have listened or maybe, god forbid, helped out.”

“I tried. She wouldn’t let me. She wanted to do everything herself and that hasn’t stopped with the birth. Hell, she rarely even lets me hold Esther without criticizing the way I’m doing it.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does. You need to understand…”

Gwen interrupted. “I don’t give a shit what her problem is. You betrayed your love. Damn it, you know how I feel about breaking trust.”

“That’s your problem. You’ve had a stick up your ass since Amy left you for another woman. Your holier than thou attitude sucks.”

“Bite me, bitch. I’m not going to be in the wrong here. You brought your problems on yourself.”

“Yeah but at least I’ve been able to enjoy myself.”

“You’re having fun with this?”

“Yeah. And I’m going to have a lot more fun when you find out.”

“Find out what?”

“You’ll see.”

“I don’t have time to play your games, Michelle. Either tell me or let me get back to the dead body.”

“You know, if you spent more time with your girlfriends, instead of with dead strangers you probably could finally have a healthy relationship.”

“Irene and I are fine.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Gwen snapped, “What is your problem?”

“Your attitude for starters. You seem to think that you can judge me.”

“I’ve never felt that.”

“You claim to never have been tempted.”

“I never said that. Of course, I’ve been tempted. I’m not dead. But that doesn’t mean I acted on it.”

“Fine, you’re a better person than me.”

“Michelle, I don’t know what to say to that. You’re my best friend.”

“Not anymore. I won’t be a friend with a rat.”

“Whatever,” Gwen said tiredly. “Just ignore your behavior and punish me for having a backbone and being honest.”

“You want to talk about honesty in relationships?”

“I just want to go back to work,” Gwen answered. She wanted the call to be over.

“In the spirit of honesty, I’ll be dropping off a video that came into my possession the other day. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“A video?”

“You bet. Think of me laughing when you watch it.”

Gwen pulled the phone away from her ear and stared down at the flashing screen. She couldn’t understand what that last cryptic statement meant but her attention was drawn to some excitement around the body. Shoving the phone in her pocket, she tried to put the conversation behind her so she could get on with her job.

She walked over to find that the Crime Scene Unit had uncovered a clump of dark hair clutched in the dead woman’s fingers. As the hair on head and between her legs was blonde, they had their first tangible clue to the attacker’s identity.

While she was happy at the find, she despaired that it was Friday. There weren’t many of the analysts that worked over the weekend and she knew that any results from the hair sample wouldn’t be available until the middle of the next week. The first forty-eight hours are critical and they were losing chances. She was frustrated that she had to fly out on Wednesday and knew that putting the investigation on hold might mean that justice would never be served.

She knew that she wouldn’t have much to distract her this weekend and vowed to work as much as she could on the paperwork from her other cases. It wasn’t like she expected Irene to call her, not after she had been so short on the phone last night.

Gwen had called her after Jenny left, hoping that she could bridge that gap that was forming between them. She didn’t want to lose this relationship because she didn’t try hard enough.

When she called, Irene was obviously busy. She could hear music and the sound of several voices through the line.

“What’s up, babe?” Irene asked, casually.

“Uh, I just wanted to talk.” Into the silence, she added, “I didn’t know you were having friends over.”

“Just some work buddies. We’re cutting loose because the campaign is over.” She raised her voice, “We got the account.”

To the sound of cheers and yells from the room, Gwen said, “Congratulations, honey. I knew you’d get it.”

“For a while there, I didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you call and tell me?”

“Oh, things have just been wild here since the news came down. There hasn’t been a chance.”

“Okay, I guess. Maybe we could get together this weekend for a little celebration.”

“Oh, that’s really sweet. I’m not sure I can, though. I’ve got to start mapping out the plan to make our new clients even richer than they are now.” She laughed at the whistles from the room. “Look, sweetie, I’ve got to be with my guests. I’ll call you, all right?”

“O…Okay.”

“Good. Later, then.”

Gwen sat holding the dead receiver in her hand until the recorded voice came on to tell her how to make a call or hang up. Gently setting it back in the cradle, she dumped her soggy cereal down the drain and went to the bathroom. Viciously, she turned on the hot water tap of the bathtub. Sorting thought the oils and unguents in the cabinet, she finally decided on a chamomile soak to calm her down and end this horrible day.

Lowering herself into the fragrant water, she allowed the first tears to flow hotly down her cheeks. She hadn’t cried since her mother had died when she was fourteen. The reaction from her father wasn’t pleasant. His attitude toward tears and other signs of weakness had overshadowed the easy emotionalism of her mother. Over time, she had learned to never let him see her cry.

She finally had to leave the warm embrace of the water because her head was pounding and her sinus’ ached. Hiccupping, she swallowed several pain pills and fell into bed. Her sleep disturbed by nightmares, she welcomed the shrill noise of her pager calling out of bed in the early morning.

She focused again on the crime scene and smiled reassuringly at her partner. He smiled back and handed her the victim’s wallet. She walked to the nearest car and began to empty it out onto the hood.

“She lived two blocks down Broadway. Shall we check her apartment out?”

Brian swept his gaze over the technicians. “Yeah. We need to leave the rest with the geek squad and might as well see what we can get from her place.”

He lowered his bulk into the front seat and adjusted the steering wheel up. He glared at her when she snorted. “What?”

“You seem to gain more each pregnancy.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Sure you can. Eat less.”

“Uh, uh. She’s on some domestic goddess tear and spends her entire day fixing these elaborate meals. If I don’t eat every bite that is front of me, I’m rejecting her.”

“Poor baby. Having his meals fixed for him.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, I do suffer don’t I?”

“Could be worse. Remember how with Ryan, she couldn’t stand the smell of cooking meat. I thought you’d starve that trimester.”

“You’re right again. I should be grateful for small favors.” He pulled the car in front of a hydrant near the victim’s building. “Shall we rifle through her belongings?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Chapter Three – Receiving a Present

It was almost nine o’clock when Gwen set the emergency brake of her RAV 4 and climbed out. She stretched her back and took a moment to gaze at the nearly full moon in the sky above. Sighing, she reached back inside the car for her laptop case and bag of carryout.

She climbed the stairs and hesitated when she heard the shouting from the downstairs unit. The angry voices of her former friends filled her with sadness. Her heart heavy, she made it the rest of the way up and fumbled with her keys. As she stepped through the door, her foot kicked at something. Looking down, she saw that it was a video without a case.

Gwen pushed it with her foot far enough inside to allow the door to close before she went in to the kitchen. Going back for the tape and the rest of her mail and she sorted most of the mail directly into the trash. Carrying the rest into the kitchen, she ate, standing at the island. Other than a few bills, her attention was drawn to the videocassette. Her burrito was filling but she hardly tasted it as she wondered what could possibly be on the tape.

Realizing that she had been avoiding the inevitable, she got up and wandered into the dining room. Not having much use for a space to entertain, she had converted it to a library and media room. Sliding the tape into the VCR, she threw herself down on the recliner and thumbed the remote.

A screen of snow dissolved to one of a mega party. It was fairly dark and the scene jerked wildly. There were bodies everywhere and, from the movement of the camera, some were obviously running into the operator. Finally, the view focused onto a scene of sex play. The action was on a small stage and she saw her lover of three years wielding a can against a pleading and squirming naked woman to the cheers of a scantily dressed crowd.

Gwen tensed but continued to watch as Irene finished her whipping and dropped the cane. Moving closer to the spread-eagled woman, she ran her latex gloved hands over the sweaty body. The woman moaned and tried to push closer to her captor. Grinning over her shoulder at the taunts from the crowd, Irene moved her hand down between the open legs and inserted her fingers into the copiously wet hole.

In no time at all, she managed to get her entire fist into the straining women. At her shuddering climax, Irene removed her arm and held her fingers up to the woman’s lips. She quickly licked them clean while she thanked her tormentor.

Picking up the cane, Irene used it like a sword to salute the crowd before stepping off the stage. The view of the camera tilted crazily before going blank again. Gwen leaned forward and was about to shut off the machine when the screen flickered to life again.

This time, the view was of a small campsite. Gwen recognized the tent from her trip with Irene to REI. Her girlfriend was sitting in a beach chair and a naked woman knelt at her feet, kissing her boots. Irene played with the chain of the leash that was attached to the woman’s collar.

In shock, Gwen watched as her girlfriend tugged on the leash until the woman’s head was pressed between her legs. She reached her other hand down and took a hold of the kneeling woman’s hair and used her grip to direct the moving mouth right where she wanted it.

Gwen moved her eyes to watch her lover’s face. She recognized the small smirk of satisfaction that came over her face when she orgasmed during a scene. In short order, Irene pushed the woman away with a high-heeled boot.

Her pulse was pounding with equal parts arousal and anger. As she tried to calm herself, Gwen continued to watch as the camera followed Irene and her human pet through the course of day and several orgasms. By the time she fast-forwarded to the end of the tape, her guts were in a knot.

Rubbing her burning eyes, she thought about the betrayal. The two of them had conversations before about what was acceptable behavior when Irene played. It wasn’t so bad when she watched her lover bring another woman off. It was something else again when another was allowed to touch her intimately in return. She hated that someone who didn’t have so much trouble giving up her power to another might have replaced her.

Popping the tape out of the machine, she examined it for any clues. Her hands tightened on it in anger, when she thought about Michelle’s delight in giving it to her. Gwen wondered how she had ever gotten to the place where she no longer knew the two most important people in her life.

She tried to sleep but the tape replayed in her mind. The images of her betrayal burned behind her eyes, whenever she closed them. She spent the night hugging herself, unconsciously trying to ward off any more blows.

She made it through the longest weekend of her life by exercising beyond the point of exhaustion. She woke up on Saturday and went jogging. After a quick stop at home for her drivers license, she went to the gym where she spent three hours working every muscle in her body. Drained, she sat in the sauna room for a couple of hours before the feeling of lightheadedness warned her get out.

Staggering to the shower, she brought her core temperature down with a blast of cold water, reducing it to tepid after she stopped sweating. She snagged a bottle of sports nutrition drink on her way out. She paid for the drink, responding automatically to the pleasantries from the young woman at the desk.

She was at her car before she realized that she’d walked the two blocks. On legs like jelly, she drove home. After trying to watch television, read a book, or even boil water (the smell of scorched metal clued her in that the saucepan was dry), she gave up the effort as fruitless.

She laced up her damp track shoes and headed back outside. She only managed to make it three blocks before the burning in her lungs equaled the ache in her knees. She dropped to a shambling walk. Gwen panted and wheezed her way back to her apartment. Gritting her teeth, she climbed the stairs. Each step felt like a dagger was being shoved under her kneecaps. When she finally made it inside, she filled the tub with scalding water and a couple of cups of Epson salts and gingerly settled herself.

When she began shivering in the now cold water, she pulled herself up and crashed onto her bed. Waking up on Sunday was pure agony. Every muscle hurt and she could hardly pull herself to her feet for a brief walk to the toilet.

She turned on the shower as she passed and stepped into the hot stream of water. By the time the water heater ran out of warm water, she was able to move a little easier. The time under the shower spray gave her an idea of how to spend the morning.

The local YWCA was virtually empty at that early hour and she only had to share the pool with two other swimmers. In silence, they passed one another on their laps. She continued after they left and other’s came for their turn. It was almost lunchtime when a pack of children seemed to take over the pool and drove her to the nearest ladder.

For a while now, she had been sweating in the cold water. She clutched the cool metal and tried to catch her breath. She had to gather all her strength to pull herself from the grasp of the liquid. Nearly numb fingers had to fumble to pull her towel down from the hook and she walked out of her flip-flops twice on the way to the dressing room.

She nearly fell asleep on the bench while she dried off. Only the slamming door and squealing of adolescents shook her from her stupor. Glancing at the damp towel in her hands, she pressed it to her mouth to keep from screaming.

Dressing was a nightmare as her damp skin made pulling on clothes an enormous effort. She felt like a pinball as she left, her tired body bouncing off doorframes and other members. The bright sunlight of the afternoon seared her chlorine-stung eyes and she shambled to the nearest bus stop.

Grateful that she wouldn’t have to drive, she leaned against the shelter and waited for the 29 bus to take her back home. She half listened to the quiet argument between a mother and her daughter. Rewarded by the bus arriving quickly, she dropped into an unoccupied seat and turned her gaze out the window. Passing the empty and abandoned warehouses, the bus passed under the River Bridge. Almost immediately, the scenery changed to houses that improved in appearance and yard size until they reached the entrance to her neighborhood.

Reduced to moving from mailbox to mailbox, Gwen forced her tired body to make it home. Too tired to even eat, she collapsed on the couch and lay unmoving until her alarm rang the next morning.

Chapter Four – From Bad to Worse

“You look like hell.” Brian stated as he shoved a cup of hot chocolate under her nose. “I thought you were going to the doctor.”

“I did go. I guess I just overdid it a bit over the weekend.”

“Tell me, did anyone make it out of the party alive?”

“Ha, ha. You’re a funny, funny man.”

“You say that but you never laugh.”

“I can’t risk ruining my reputation by cracking a smile,” Gwen chided him. “Remember, I’m a castrating bitch who had her funny bone surgically removed.”

“Keep telling yourself that but we’re wising up to you.” He leaned close. “More and more learn everyday that you’re just a marshmallow.”

“Do you have anything worthwhile to report? Like, you know, on one of our cases?” she asked in a mock, Valley Girl accent.

“Yeah, we’ve got a tip from one of the gals who worked with our latest vic and the DNA results are back on the Gonzales case.”

“That’s good. Anything we can use?”

“Nothing in the system. We’re stalled until someone comes forward.”

“That’ll be the day.”

“Yeah. You want to go talk to the friend?”

“Lead the way.”

The mainly glass office building met them with a blast of air conditioning as soon as the doors slid open. Gwen found herself easily chilled lately and she was glad she chose the heavier blazer. Others may choose their attire by what conceals their gun but she wanted something that would keep her from shivering too noticeably during interviews.

The trip up the sixteenth floor was made in silence, as they were sharing the car with several young workers. From reception, they were directed to the communal office of the payroll staff.

“Ms. Delgado?” Brian asked generally to the room.

A slender Hispanic woman raised a tentative hand. Her eyes seemed large in her face as she watched the police approach.

“We understand that you might have some information for us?” Gwen easily took the lead to deal with the anxiety visible on the young woman’s face.

“I don’t know if this is anything.”

At her low voiced hesitation, Gwen squatted down beside her desk. “Right now, we need all the help we can get. Anything you tell us could bring the person who killed Laura to justice.”

“At the Circle Bar. See, we all go out for drinks after work on Wednesday and there was a guy who was flirting, pretty aggressive with all of us.” She played with her pencil for a moment. “Laura got into his face when he wouldn’t stop.”

“What wouldn’t he stop?”

“I told him that I was engaged but he kept pushing.” Eyes wide, she implored Gwen, “I didn’t encourage him at all and she was just trying to protect me.”

“It’s all right. You were just out for a good time and he marred it.”

“I don’t know that he did anything to her. He just gave me a bad feeling.”

“Listen, if this guy had something to do with her death, we will find out. Can you give us a description?"

“Well, it was dark but he was tall. Taller than him,” she indicated at Brian. “Dark hair. Skin lighter.”

“Do you think that you’d be able to describe him to a sketch artist?”

Estella agreed to go to the station on her lunch hour. The two detectives took the description they had and spent the rest of the day and early evening interviewing customers of the watering hole. They had located two women who reported a man who wouldn’t take no for an answer. They agreed to come down to the station house the next day and work with a sketch artist.

They also received information on another case of theirs. A partial fingerprint off the slinky bra of an assault victim was a nine-point match by someone in the database of the Bureau of Criminal Identification. While they did the legwork of tracking down and talking to the man’s parole officer, Gwen played with her phone.

“What’s up?”

“Huh?”

“You keep checking that like you’re waiting for a call.”

“I guess I just expected Irene to call.”

“Oh? Did you two have a spat?” He leered comically at her. “Better yet, did you have a cat fight and why didn’t you invite me?”

“Pervert,” Gwen said fondly. “We didn’t fight exactly. She just got that account she’d been working so hard for and I sort of expected her to call this weekend so we could get together.”

Brian looked puzzled. “Hold on. I thought you guys were an item?”

“We are.”

“Then why are you still making appointments to see one another? I thought all you lesbians brought a U-Haul to the second date.”

“Neither of us wanted to rush into it.”

“Sorry to tell you that three years into it is not rushing. Piss or get off of the pot.”

“I’ll take it under advisement. Now, if we can get off the subject of my love life and back onto the case?”

Brian agreed and they worked companionably through the day. At its end, they had several possible leads that he was going to follow up while she went out of town.

“Make sure you get uniforms to go with you when you go to his apartment. Don’t take stupid risks.”

“Yes, Mom. I’ll even wear my vest, if that will make you happy.”

“It will.” She grinned fondly at her partner. They formed a successful team and had a good clearance rate. She shied away from actually thinking about the consequences of her upcoming tests. “I’ll be back late on Friday. Let me know if we need to connect over the weekend.”

“I don’t understand why you aren’t going to stay through the weekend. Don’t you miss your folks?”

“They’re still pretty active and this trip is short notice.” She told the lie with a twinge in her gut.

“Yeah, what’s up with that? I didn’t know you were planning to go.”

“I’ve got time I need to use or lose.”

“I hear that.” Brian locked his desk drawer and put on his jacket. “Have a safe flight and a good trip.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t work too late. All this stuff will be here when you get back.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that.”

“Hey, I’ve got to make you feel useful.” Nodding at the evening shift coming in, Brian smiled at her. “Bye.”

Waving him off, Gwen packed up some work that she could do while she waited around the hospital and put her sidearm in her locker. She felt lighter without it by her side but thought it would be safer stored at work than left in her apartment. She knew that her neighbors were still fighting and they did have a key to her place.

Gwen woke up before her alarm the next morning. Packing for her short trip was easy and she went into the kitchen to wait for the cab to take her to the airport. She stared at her cell phone and laptop that were sitting side by side on the kitchen table. Feeling like a coward, Gwen typed a short email to her girlfriend, telling her that she was going to be out of town until the weekend. She knew that Irene didn’t read her email until after her first cup of coffee and figured that she’d be through security at the airport by then.

Hefting her one small bag that had more books than clothes in it, she walked out to the curb to wait for the cab. Standing there, she crossed her arms when Michelle came out of the downstairs unit to pick up her paper.

Her former best friend glared at her before snatching up the plastic wrapped bundle and disappearing back into the house. Gwen hated that she had lost her longest friendship but she wasn’t willing to forgive her infidelities, even if Jenny apparently was.

Startled out of her thoughts by the arrival of the taxi, she slid into the seat and confirmed that she wanted to be taken to the airport. The driver had to concentrate on moving through the morning rush hour traffic and left her alone with her thoughts.

She smiled mechanically at him after handing off her fare and tip. Lost in her own world, she navigated the crowded terminal and sank down in a chair by the gate. The flight would take three hours and wasn’t scheduled to leave for an hour and a half. She pulled out her first book and began to read.

The flight was smooth and landed her at her destination slightly ahead of schedule. Navigating the maze of the Baltimore airport, she was the first to the cabstand. The drive was pleasant but she couldn’t recall any of it or any conversations from the driver.

Arriving at the hospital, she marveled at the size of the main building. The campus was beautiful, with the red brick edifices and stately trees. She was grateful for the detailed directions from the doctor’s office. Taking a deep breath, she walked inside.

She pulled out the printout handed it to the admissions clerk. Directed down several long hallways, she spent the next two hours in the lab having fluids drawn, completing a stress test, and drinking a disgusting mixture that was then traced through her body. Once that was complete, she was told that she should get a meal and return to be admitted by 7 o’clock.

On one of the floors, there was a small art gallery. She took her time, studying each piece while she tried to convince her upset stomach that it was hungry. She hadn’t eaten since dinner the previous day and knew that her low-grade headache would go away with some food.

Following the directions from the curator, she went down to the large dining room. Besides the hot meals, there were plenty of choices of sandwiches. Cold from her long day of intense air-conditioning, she decided to purchase a meal that she could enjoy outside.

Taking her plastic wrapped sandwich out to the grassy area in front of the hospital wing, she took a seat under a large, leafy tree. She popped the top on her red and white can of Coke and turned on her cell phone. It immediately started beeping.

Calling up her voice mail, she learned that she had four messages. Three were from Irene and one was from her partner, Brian. Irene went from wondering what her terse morning email message meant to a demand that she call her back at once. Brian just wanted to confirm that the first parts of the DNA results were back positive. They had enough material for a comparison and were just waiting to see if the computer matched the hairs to their suspect. He told her not to worry about it and to enjoy her mini-vacation.

Gwen felt a twinge of guilt about not telling her partner of two years about the real reason for her trip out of town. She justified it by thinking that it was better to wait until she had real news to deliver. She had no such guilty feelings about keeping the information from her girlfriend.

Deleting all the messages from Irene, she turned her phone back off and played with her sandwich for a while. She was distracted by a game of Frisbee and arriving ambulance. Finally realizing that she was never going to eat another bite, she gathered up her trash and headed back inside.

Getting admitted was quick. She was given her wristband and endured more blood being taken and then told which floor to find her room. At the nurse’s stations, she was greeted with a smile. The nurse directed her to her room and asked her if she wanted the television turned on. At the negative, she told her that she’d let her get settled and then come into take her baseline readings. Gwen changed clothes and got into bed. She pulled out a new book and tried to lose herself in the story.

The next day passed in a haze of pain and anesthetic. She finally woke up with a clear head and sat up in bed. She felt around at the bandages and relaxed as she realized that the damage was pretty minimal.

A new nurse walked in later to replace her IV fluids. “Hello, Gwen. My name is Margaret. Let me unhook you from the line.”

“I’m hungry.”

“That’s good. A lot of people are nauseous after being under. I’ll bring you a tray of food in a bit.”

“Thanks.”

“Let me also tell your doctor that you’re coherent and he’ll probably stop by to talk to you about your surgery.”

“All right. Can I get something to drink?”

The nurse put a carafe on the side table. “Sip the water until you’re sure that you can keep it down.” Bustling around, she quickly took Gwen’s vital signs and left her alone again.

An aide brought in a tray of limp beans, turkey and gravy. She ate the bland food, including the Jell-O cup. Leaning back in the bed, she had just closed her eyes with the doctor walked into the room.

He began speaking almost as soon as he cleared the door. “Okay, I took a biopsy of five lymph nodes. As we suspected, there are cancerous mantle cells spread bilaterally. It is an especially aggressive form of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.”

“Which means?”

“In your case, given the diffuse nature, there is no treatment guaranteed or even likely to put you in remission or prolong your life. From the lab workups yesterday, you’ve got cancer in your spleen, brain and spine. It is likely that most organs are affected and, at this stage, radiation is not recommended.”

“That’s it?”

“I’m afraid so. You can seek out a second opinion but I would recommend you put the time to better use.”

“How much longer do you think I’ll live?”

“It is hard to be definite about that.”

“Ball park it. Please.”

“Six months at the outside. Probably more like three.”

Gwen’s head went back in shock. “But I don’t feel that sick.”

“My notes show that you’ve been sick for at least a year and that it has been steadily progressing. I can’t say if you had sought treatment immediately if your chances would be greater.” The Doctor winked at her. “We can only go forward from here.”

“What should I do?”

“Get your affairs in order. Do the things you always wanted to do—within reason, of course. You will find that your energy levels will steadily decline.”

“What about work?”

“Do you have to?”

“Not really.”

“As more of your systems succumb to the cancer, you will become more susceptible to infection. I don’t know what work you do but, eventually, even the lightest physical exertion will soon be beyond you.” He looked at her. “What do you do?”

“I’m a cop.”

“Then I would recommend immediate commencement of disability leave. You need to reduce the stress in your life and being a police office won’t allow that.” Clicking his pen, he put it back in his shirt pocket. “Do you have any other questions?”

“Not at this time.”

“It is a lot to absorb at once. I’ll transmit my findings to your physician. Feel free to contact my office if there are any questions she can’t answer.”

Gwen’s voice cracked. “Thanks.”

“Your welcome. I’m sorry I couldn’t deliver better news.”

“You and me both.” Gwen answered. “You and me both.

Chapter Five – Coming Home

Gwen pulled open the door before it shattered from the blows against it. She met the flashing hazel eyes and spoke calmly. “Irene.”

“Where were you?”

“Didn’t you get my email? I told you. I had to go out of town.”

“Where?”

“Look, I’m tired. Can we do this another time?”

“We could have done this anytime the past four days. You had your phone turned off all the time and I can see from here that you’ve already deleted the messages I left on this answering machine.”

“Do you really want to go there? Because, frankly, had you spent even a quarter of the time you spend with your coworkers with me, you’d know where I was and what I was doing.”

“Don’t put it all on me. You’ve been pretty hard to catch up with.”

“You’re right. I’m not perfect. I’ve also made an effort that hasn’t been returned.”

“What are you trying to say, Gwen?”

“I think we need to discuss why or even if we’re still involved.”

“Of course we are. What do you think has changed?”

“Other than the fact that we haven’t seen each other in almost two weeks? It might be because you’re keeping company outside of the relationship.”

“What?”

Gwen walked over to an unmarked videotape. She handed it to Irene. “You should tell Patty that she’s really gotten the hang of the camcorder.”

“What? What is this?”

“It’s a tape of you being Mistress of the Ball at Leather Fest.”

“So?” Irene narrowed her eyes. “You told me it was all right to run scenes there. We agreed.”

“We didn’t agree to your taking on a slave for the weekend.”

“What?”

“This video really captured just how much fun you had with your pet.”

“It was a scene. Get over it. You know I don’t do jealously.”

“And I don’t do cheaters.”

“You are blowing this all out of proportion.”

“Maybe.” Gwen pointed at two boxes sitting by door. “I packed your stuff.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. All this over a little nothing that I played with during my vacation?”

“Nothing, was she? I just hate to think what you tell others about me.”

“I used to tell them that I thought it was going somewhere.”

“Really? How come you never told me that?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I was involved in acquiring the biggest account of my career.” Irene put her hands on her hips. “Don’t tell me you seriously want to break up.”

“I do.”

“Who lit the fuse on your tampon?”

“Does it matter? “

“Of course it does. I want to know who turned you against me.”

“Mainly you.” She pointed her finger at the other woman. “Come on, do you really think I haven’t noticed that you don’t want to spend any time with me, that you can’t bring yourself to talk to me?”

“And like you were so quick to tell me things. Oh, like you’re going out of town?”

“Last time we spoke, you said you’d call. You know, after you got the account. Since you couldn’t break apart from partying with your coworkers long enough to tell me the good news, I waited for you to call me all weekend. I waited for four days for a call that never came. That was long enough for even the blind to read the writing on the wall.”

“I was busy making a living. And I seem to recall plenty of times that your work was too important for you to call me.”

“It never took me that long to find a phone.” Gwen sat down on the couch. “Tell me, Irene. If you hadn’t gotten that email from me, when would you have called?”

“That’s not the point.”

“I think it is. I’m tired. Just take your stuff and get back to your life. I obviously have no part in it.”

“I don’t believe you’re doing this. You are completely overreacting.”

“I think I’m finally acting appropriately. This can’t have been your ideal relationship either.”

“It might not have been ideal but it is certainly not worth ending over a simple misunderstanding.”

“We’re well beyond misunderstanding and well into failure to communicate. I’m serious. It’s over.”

“That’s it? We’re done because you say we’re done.”

“Yep.”

Irene flung open the door and threw one of her boxes down the stairs. Picking up the other one, she glared at Gwen. “Don’t come crawling back to me when you realize you can’t live without me.”

Laughing at the irony, Gwen shrugged. “Live or die, I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for the call.” She walked over to the door. “Let me close this behind you.” Gently securing the deadbolt, she walked over to the sideboard and poured herself a small glass of tequila. Now that that she done with tying that loose thread, she needed to make an appointment to talk to her father.

She waited until 9:30 the next morning to call her Dad’s secretary. Telling Doris that it was important, she was able to make time for her to see him that afternoon.

The law office, of which her father was managing partner, was designed to intimidate. The majestic old building had tall ceilings and rich wall coverings, the patterned marble flooring and the imposing furniture all conspired to give the visitor a sense of inadequacy.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Gwendolyn. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I need to talk with you.”

The silver haired man looked at his only daughter for a long moment before he got up from behind his desk and walked over to the well stocked bar. “From the look of you, I think I need some fortification before we begin. Do you want anything?” he asked as he poured several fingers of bourbon in a glass with a splash of water.

“No, thank you.”

“So, what is it this time?”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s see, in the past, you’ve come to tell me you’ve joined the police force and become a lesbian. I can hardly wait to hear what bombshell you have for me this time.”

“I came to tell you that I’ve been diagnosed with cancer.”

“What?”

“Inoperable, end stage non Hodgkin’s lymphoma.”

“Impossible.”

“Excuse me?”

“Our family doesn’t get cancer.”

“I’ll be sure to tell my doctor.”

“Who have you seen?”

“My local oncologist is Helen Ungava but the original diagnosis came from a lymphatic specialist from John Hopkins.”

“They must be wrong.” He drained his glass and poured another. “You’ll have to see James.”

“I don’t need to see anyone else. I’ve accepted my diagnosis.”

“What are you planning to doing about it?”

“Didn’t you hear me? I said Stage Four. There is nothing for me to do.”

“What about surgery? Chemotherapy or radiation?”

“It is unlikely that even the most aggressive therapy’s could even slow the spread.”

“You’re giving up? That’s not the way I raised you.”

“You didn’t raise me, Dad. My teachers at boarding school did.”

“Is this really the time for you to repeat the litany of what a bad parent I am?”

“No, it’s not and I apologize.”

“You need to do something. Anything would be better than just laying down to die.”

“I think I’m being realistic. I’d have no quality of life if I tried to fight this. There is only one winner here.”

“I don’t even know you.”

She sighed. “You never made an effort to do so.”

“I would have thought that you were better than a coward. I’m glad your mother isn’t alive to see what a mess you are.”

“You have a lot of nerve to bring her up.”

“I’m just saying the truth.”

“I don’t have to listen to this.”

“No. I guess a quitter like you can’t take a little criticism.”

“Whatever, Dad. I just thought you should know.” She stared at him. He brought the glass back to his mouth and sipped. She hoped she’d be able to see a little love or affection in his demeanor. Her shoulders slumped as she walked out of the room. The heavy door closed with finality behind her.

She drove home with a pounding headache. Parking the car, she trudged toward the stairs, only to be called back.

“Gwen, we need to talk.”

“Why?” Turning, she saw Michelle. Her former friend had dark circles under her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I but that doesn’t answer the question. Why do you want to talk?”

“We’ve been friends for twenty years.”

“The operative tense is past. We were friends. You made it quite clear that you no longer consider me a friend.”

“I was upset. I couldn’t believe that you told Jenny.”

“I told you that I wouldn’t lie for you.”

“You were my best friend. How could tell my partner I was cheating on her?”

“Because she asked. Because she’s the mother of your child. Because I stood up with you when the two of you committed to one another five years ago. Because I won’t be a party to lies and liars.” Gwen closed her eyes. She felt the pricking of her eyes and the pressure against her forehead that foretold the onset of another headache. “I can’t deal with this now.” She put her hand on the rail and started upstairs.

Michelle looked shocked. “We’re not done here.”

“I am.” She had almost made it to the top when she heard footsteps behind her. She ignored them and opened the door and dropped her keys.

“What is your problem? I’m trying to apologize here.”

“I’ve had a killer day and I want to go to bed.”

“That reminds me. Where have you been these past few days?”

“Away from here.”

“That isn’t a good answer.”

“It’s the best you’re going to get. Now, go.”

“I’m not going.”

“Whatever makes you happy.” Gwen shrugged and went into the bathroom. She swallowed a couple of pain pills and headed into the bedroom. She ignored the daggers being glared into her back as she slid into bed and turned out the light. In moments, she was nearing sleep when she half opened her eyes to Michelle staring down at her.

“I don’t believe it.”

“What exactly don’t you believe?”

“That you’re actually falling asleep.”

“I told you to go.”

“Oh, I’m going all right.” Michelle stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

Snaking her arm out from under the covers, Gwen flicked on her alarm clock. She thought vaguely about getting up to lock the door but couldn’t be bothered as sleep claimed her.

Chapter Six – Making Arrangements

Gwen dressed carefully the next morning. She had a meeting first thing with the medical review board. She had argued with her doctor about the need to do this but she couldn’t deny that she wasn’t physically capable of doing everything her job might require.

It wasn’t as bad as she expected. She had the records from Johns Hopkins sent directly to them. She was advised that they were placing her on temporary disability. She was to report back in a month about whether the designation should be changed to permanent.

She couldn’t help grimacing. She was in pretty big denial about the whole death sentence thing but these guys seemed to be on an entirely different planet. “I haven’t been given much of a chance for improvement.”

“Well, use the time to seek out different opinions and alternative treatments.” The portly lieutenant replied. “My grandmother lived five years more than the doctors ever thought she could. They don’t know near as much as they think they do.” He cast a self-satisfied look at the nods of the other committee members. “Remember, it’s attitude that matters in this fight.”

“Yes, sir.” She gathered up her materials and headed to her squad room. She needed to tell her Captain and partner what was happening.

“Jesus, Gwen. You’re going to get treatment, right?”

Pinching the bridge of her nose did nothing to dissipate the growing headache. “Brian, I’m doing what the professionals recommend. Hey, aren’t you always the one who tells me that I should listen to the doctors?”

“Yeah, but don’t give up.” His hazel eyes were worried as they met hers. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“Are you kidding? I’ll be sitting at home being an armchair detective. You’ll never get me out of your hair.” Ruffling the sandy locks, good naturedly, Gwen waved at her desk. “The leave is effective tomorrow. Let me do what I can to tame this mess of paperwork so your new partner doesn’t start out hating me.”

“Sure, Gwen. That’d be great.” Brian hovered for a few more minutes but her raised eyebrow finally pushed him back to his own desk. They worked in companionable silence throughout the day, talking in the abbreviated partial sentences of long time partners.

Her energy flagging by day’s end, she agreed to go out for a single drink. “I’m on stuff that shouldn’t be mixed with alcohol,” she said, apologetically.

“S’okay. I’ve got to get home to supervise bath time. The twins are demanding to be bathed separately and Donna can’t take three soakings in a row.”

“How is she doing?”

The grin nearly split his face. “Just awesome. This time during the last go round, she was all swollen feet and bad back. Now, she’s almost dancing.”

“It helps when you’re not carting around twins.”

“Yeah.” He held open the door to the Emmit’s. “I don’t know how she does it.”

“They’re great kids.”

“Aren’t they, though?” Waving two fingers at the barmaid, he stopped her from pulling out her wallet. “No, my invite, my treat.”

“Big spender. You’re just doing it because you know I’m a lightweight.”

“Hey, it’s the thought that counts.”

They took their drinks to an empty table near the dartboard. After a couple of near misses by a slightly inebriated patrolman, Gwen leaned close to Brian. “Discretion over valor?”

“Yeah, let’s get out of here before someone gets killed.” He immediately went pale. “Oh, geez, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it. I understand exactly what you meant. Besides, I don’t want to go any faster than I have to.”

Relieved, he tossed a couple of one-dollar bills on the table and they walked out. Standing shoulder to shoulder on the sidewalk, they breathed in the night air.

“I’m going to miss you.”

Affectionately, she bumped him. “Me too. You’ve been the best partner and a good friend.”

He shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “I don’t know what to say or do.”

“Just be yourself. I understand, truly I do.” Gwen squeezed his bicep. “Now, you go home and give that woman of your some loving.”

Nodding, they turned their separate ways. Gwen climbed into her truck and headed it toward home. She was grateful that the vehicle seemed to know which direction to go on it’s own because she didn’t feel much like directing it.

Her home was dark. She had forgotten to leave a light on for herself and she didn’t bother to turn one on now. Heading across the living room with just the light from the street, she stubbed her toe on the coffee table.

Hopping and cussing into the bedroom, she kicked off her shoes and cradled her foot in her hand. Tired out from the day’s stress, she fell asleep in her clothes on top of the bed.

Early the next morning, she paced around her apartment. She saw a comfortable mess. The bookcases were overflowing with titles, piles of papers covered most surfaces and the collectables of a lifetime seemed to mock her mortality.

Slapping her hand s against her thighs, she grabbed her keys and wallet and stormed downstairs. She drove to a box warehouse and bought fifty boxes. Returning with her haul upstairs, she labeled several boxes Trash and Donation.

Methodically, over the next week, she worked through the rooms. When her boxes were full, she called Salvation Army for a pickup and started the laborious process of carrying the trash to the street. It took her until Thursday to feel that she had tamed the visible remnants of her life.

She made a call for another pickup and stood for a while looking at the sheaf of takeout menu’s on the counter. She felt she deserved a reward for the past few days work and decided to go get a meal. She drove over to the Halal restaurant near the interstate for a large bowl of lentil soup. She sat in the window seat, idly watching the traffic and letting the bickering of the mother and her sons wash over her. Too soon, she licked her spoon a final time and walked back to her car. On the way, she passed a used bookstore.

She glanced up at the jarring bell and then looked at the young man behind the desk. He flashed her a smile and she shrugged off her irritation. “Hello. I’ve got a book collection and I’d like someone to come to my home and give me an estimate on it’s worth and possibly handle the sale.”

“Oh, you’ll need to speak to Mr. Haven.”

“Is he around?”

“No, he’s on a buying trip. I can have him call you when he returns.”

Pulling out one of her personal business cards, she smiled. “How soon do you expect him back?”

“Next week.”

“Excellent. Have him give me a call.” Resisting the temptation to browse and add more books to the sizable load that already needed to be hauled away, Gwen walked out of the bookstore.

Returning home, she ran herself a warm bath and scented the water with honey. The soaking worked it’s magic on her muscles and she was able to fall asleep quickly. Waking up to go to the bathroom, she glanced at the bedside clock. It wasn’t even 10 o’clock and she’d already been out for a couple of hours. She had to sigh at remembering that she used to rarely make it home before midnight.

Returning to the bed, she straightened the rumpled covers and checked to make sure that she set the alarm. The Salvation Army truck was scheduled to come between 7am and 9, and she didn’t want to sleep through it.

She awoke to the report of violence in the Middle East on NPR. Thinking that she’d better have a shower before her checkup later in the morning, she fought the urge to hit the snooze button and rolled out of bed.

Folding the receipt that the driver gave her for her donation, Gwen watched the white truck with its red logo head off down the street. When she turned to walk upstairs, she caught the twitch of a curtain from the downstairs unit. Smiling to herself about what might happen to curious cats, she climbed into her SUV for a trip to the doctor.

Waiting in the relentlessly cheerful room, Gwen wondered about the people who do interior design. Do they really think that pictures of seashells and pink walls will make dealing with medical issues any easier? Or are they just trying to keep the patients from going postal after they’ve been waiting an incredibly long time?

When her name was called, she snagged an extra magazine off the stack. She exchanged a smile with an older woman before she went through the door.

“Step up here please?”

“Is weighing me really necessary every visit?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s good to have a baseline.”

“If you insist.” Gwen stepped onto the scale and adjusted the weights. She frowned when she realized that she’d actually lost a few pounds. She rolled her eyes at the smirk from the physician’s assistant.

She followed the brightly smocked woman into a small consultation room and sat quietly through a temperature, pulse and blood pressure check. The woman left her to freeze while she waited for the doctor’s arrival.

A knock on the door preceded the spry older woman into the room. “Hello, Gwen. How are things going?”

“I went on temporary disability this week.”

“I know that was a hard decision to make.” She glanced at the file in front of her. “How are your energy levels?”

“Dropping.”

“And the headaches?”

“Deal able.”

The doctor peered at her over her glasses. “This whole process goes a lot smoother when you work with me.”

Gwen dropped her head and stared at the floor. “Sorry I’m being a bitch.”

“All right. What about your appetite?”

“Nonexistent.”

“You’ve lost five pounds since your last visit. I want you to try to drink meal replacements in addition to trying to eat.”

“Yuck.”

“Think of it as an investment in independence. As long as you seem to be taking care of yourself, I won’t try to hospitalize you.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, how about your sleeping?”

“I’m sleeping all the time.”

“Night sweats?"

“Yeah, I wake up drenched sometimes.”

“I can’t tell you that things are going to get any easier. You’re in for a rough time and it will help you to start putting a support system in place.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I’m noticing that you always come to your appointments alone. What about your girlfriend?”

“We aren’t together anymore.”

“Oh? I’m really sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m better off.”

“I don’t know the circumstances but I can assure you that you will need some help and it might happen sooner rather than later.”

“I’ll be fine.”

The doctor shook her head. “Okay, I’m going to drop it for now.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, I want to take some more blood and give you an exam. I also want to do a fecal occult.” Helen stood up. “I’ll give you a couple minutes to disrobe and get under the sheet.”

The Doctor returned with a nurse in tow. She began the thorough exam by washing her hands. Knowing how sensitive her patient was to cold, she made sure to use very warm water.

When she finished, she washed her hands again and sat down in the low stool. Drawing close to the table, she laid one dark hand on Gwen’s forearm.

“Gwen, I want you to consider something.” She paused for a moment before extending a sheet of paper. “I know that you are a private person but you won’t be able to care for yourself forever. I took the liberty of printing out this list of nurses and a hospice so you can start to make plans now. Don’t wait too long.”

“I thank you for your concern.”

“Don’t patronize me. At least consider this option before discarding it.”

Gwen took paper and folded it a couple of times. “All right. Are we done here?”

“Yes. I’ll let you get dressed. Expect me to give you a call in the next day or two to discuss the lab reports.”

“All right.” Gwen put her clothes back on and left the doctor's office. Swinging by the box company on her way home, Gwen picked up another fifty. She left them in the living room and went straight to bed. That night her dreams were filled with her moving through an apartment building, opening every door and finding that every room was empty.

Still tired the next morning, she made herself pancakes and tried to talk herself into finishing the purge. After washing the dishes, she went into the living room.

Gwen stared at the unpresuposing cabinet. It was an old wooden stereo cabinet she had liberated from a trash heap and converted to hold her photo albums. She had tried twice before to go through the contents but she found an excuse each time to leave them for later.

The phone call from her oncologist that morning confirming that her cells continued to battle against her body.

She built several boxes and wrote names on them. Arranging them in a tight arc in front of the couch she pulled out the first album. This one would be easy, it was mainly shots of her as a child. She consigned those into the trash pile. Pouring herself a shot of tequila from the squat Patron bottle, she moved on to the photographs of her on trips and with the women in her life. The pictures of the flavor of the month were tossed in the trash pile, while those with a longer history or those who were still in her life, she put aside.

When her box of discards was full, she went downstairs and into the backyard. With a twist of newspaper, she started a fire in the chiminia and slowly fed in twigs. Once the fire was going, she methodically burned the pictures. Watching the pictures brown and curl before the flames took them was almost punishment. By the time the box was empty, her eyes were swollen from crying.

She stirred the ashes before adding a few more branches to make sure that everything was destroyed. No longer even sure why it was important, she concentrated on finishing so that she could retreat back inside.

Like a siren call, her bed beckoned. She thought that spending the rest of the day under the covers was the best thing she could do.

Chapter Seven – Telling the Truth

“Jenny. Michelle. What can I do for you?”

The two women stood on her doorstep and shifted uncomfortably. “May we come in?” Jenny finally asked.

Politeness warring with exhaustion, Gwen stepped back and opened the door. “Make it quick.”

“We’ve noticed the Salvation Army trucks and boxes of stuff leaving here.”

“And?”

“We just want to make sure that you’re not planning on taking off without paying your portion of the mortgage,” snapped Michelle.

“That’s it? That’s what you came up here for?” At their reluctant nods, she stalked over to her desk and pulled out a sheet of paper and thrust it at Jenny.

“What is it?” Michelle asked.

Jenny studied the paper for a moment before looking at her lover. “It’s from the bank, acknowledging receipt of $100,000 dollars to be paid toward our loan.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be stiffing you for the interest either. I’m waiting for a account balance statement, at which time I’ll pay off the remainder of my share.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Where did you get the money?”

Gwen’s voice was cold. “I'm not sure that statement should be dignified with a response. Remember, I don’t leave debts.”

“It’s your mother’s money, isn’t it? You told me you’d never use it.”

“Things change.”

“So, you’re leaving,” Michelle accused.

“Not exactly.”

Jenny stepped closer. “What is wrong with you?”

“I’m not going to answer that.”

“Why not? We deserve to know.”

“I don’t owe you anything.”

“We’re your friends.”

“Right. That’s why you came up here to accuse me of skipping out on the mortgage.”

“You haven’t told us anything about what’s been happening. We were worried.”

“Yeah. You don’t seem to go to work anymore.”

“I’m on leave.”

“Did something happen?”

“Don’t pretend that you’ve started caring again.”

Michelle pointed her finger at the smaller woman. “I never stopped. Look, I tried to talk to you before. I’ve realized some stuff and I’m trying to change.”

“I’m sure that we all appreciate your efforts.”

“There’s no need to be sarcastic.”

“Forgive me. It’s all I have left.”

“Gwen, please. Tell us what’s wrong?”

Not able to meet the eyes of her long time friends, Gwen turned and walked over to the living room window. “I’ve got cancer.”

“Oh, god.”

“It’s end stage and I’m doing what I can to bring some order to this space.”

“What can we do?”

“Do?” She spun around. “There is nothing for you to do. I’m handling it my way.”

“That’s why you tapped into those funds.”

“It seemed a little silly to let it sit there while I rot.”

Michelle whispered. “How long?”

“Probably by year’s end. Maybe sooner.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to go on for as long as I can.”

“Will you tell us what we can do to help?”

“I’m fine.”

Jenny stepped up and hugged the other woman. She held on, even while Gwen remained stiff in her arms. “We didn’t mean to imply otherwise. But we love you and are here for you.”

Dipping her head slightly, she rested it in the crook of her friend’s neck. “Thank you.” She pushed against Jenny and stepped clear of the embrace. “I appreciate the concern.”

“It’s more than concern.”

She shrugged. “Whatever. Can I take from the united front that you two have worked everything out?”

“Not everything.” Jenny looked at her lover.

“I’ve stopped seeing her and we’re going to therapy.”

“Really? Good for you.”

“Yeah. I’m realizing that I treated you really badly and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, I want you believe me.”

“I believe that you’re sorry.”

“I’d like for you to consider forgiving me.”

“Why do you need my forgiveness?”

“You’ve been my best friend and conscience for more years than I care to recall. I need you in my life.”

“I don’t have much life to give you.”

“Please. Don’t keep us out of the time you have left.”

Gwen shrugged. “I’ll try but habits are hard to break.”

“Why don’t you come out to lunch with us?”

“I don’t have a lot of appetite.”

“We can go to Muriel’s and just eat appetizers.”

Laughing, she agreed. “Let me change clothes.”

The three women went out together and spent a couple of hours reestablishing their camaraderie. By the end of the meal, the barriers were broken and they were friends again.

Gwen lost energy quickly and went to bed immediately upon returning home. She was not looking forward to tomorrow.

Standing in front of the floor length mirror, Gwen buttoned her uniformed pants. She hooked her thumb in the waistband and pulled out a couple of inches. She knew she had been losing weight but it wasn’t until today that she realized just how much. Unfortunately, her meeting with the brass about her resignation was in just a little over two hours. It wasn’t near enough time to get a uniform that fitted.

Self conscious about the loose fit, she was grateful when the panel called her in and she could sit down behind the table. She informed them of her decision and was gratified and embarrassed by the expressions of sympathy.

“Why don’t you stay on medical disability?”

“Because I have the means to survive without it. I’ll stay on COBRA because I’m not so foolish as to try and pay for everything myself but you can save the budget for another officer.”

Captain Hansen leaned his thick forearms on the desk. “You’re a good cop, Thornton.”

“Thank you, sir. That means a lot.”

“I’m sorry,” he winced at the inadequacy of his words. “If there is anything I can do?’

“That’s quite all right. I’ve made the necessary arrangements.”

“Well, if anything changes, let me know.”

She shook hands with the members of the panel and made her way outside. Tempted to unbutton the jacket, she figured that one final hour wouldn’t kill her any quicker. Glancing down at the indicator, she saw that she needed to fill the tank.

Pulling into the station, she sees a familiar car at the next set of pumps. Her mind on her meeting, she feels her pulse quicken when Irene steps out of the store and walks over to her car.

Gwen knew that she had to take advantage of this chance meeting. “Hello,” she called out.

“What?” Irene’s instinctive smile dimmed. “Oh. I see you’re speaking to me again?”

“I was trying to be polite.”

“Well, then. Hello.”

“Are you done for the day?”

“Why?”

“I wonder if you could follow me home. I’ve got some things I want to talk to you about.”

“Tell me now.”

“I’m not comfortable doing it out in the street.”

“That always was your problem. You always thought that an audience made your actions shameful. You never understood that only your perception made it so.”

“As much as I want to give you full opportunity to discuss my shortcomings, I really would like to speak to you privately.”

Irene tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I’m free now. Shall I meet you there?”

“Yes, please.” Gwen topped off her car and printed out her receipt. “Thank you.” She drove home and paced her living room until exhaustion claimed her. She was sitting down on the couch when Irene opened the door and walked inside.

“I’m here. What do you want?”

“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

“I was mad about what I saw on the video but you were honest before you ever left for the festival about what would happen and I had no reason to doubt you when you said that you hadn’t formed any emotional attachments,” she said it all in one breath.

“I didn’t expect that.” She smirked. “I knew you’d be back.”

“I’m not back. I just wanted to clear the air. I have no right or even a good reason to punish you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I have to tell you something.” Gwen paused and cleared her throat. “I’m dying.”

“Say that again.”

“I’ve got a nasty cancer that will kill me before the year is out.”

“The hell you say.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Would you have told me? If we hadn’t been at the Spur station at the same time?”

“I put it in writing. I wouldn’t have left you hanging.” Gwen waved vaguely over toward her desk. On it was stacks of papers and envelops.

“Looks like you’ve got everything neatly wrapped up.”

“I tried.”

“Was that all I was to you? A loose end?”

“I never stopped loving you, Irene.”

“Then why did you shut me out?”

“Because I don’t think you should have to be faced with this.” She waved her hand at herself. “I’m dying here. It isn’t pleasant or comfortable and there is no reason for you to be here for it.”

“Sickness and health,” she whispered softly.

“Darling, we hadn’t even gotten to have and to hold.” She held up a hand when Irene would have spoken. “I am no less culpable than you for our drifting apart but even you have to admit that we weren’t close enough to exchanging bodily fluids for months. How could I ask you to wipe up my vomit or clean my ass?”

“Love.”

“I’m a burden you don’t have to share.”

“This is real life, honey. Sometimes it’s messy but that doesn’t mean that we don’t have to sometimes do the unpleasant.”

Gwen leaned back on the couch cushions and studied her former lover. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that was how you felt.”

“You never bothered to find out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? Tell me truthfully, Gwen. Why did you do what you did?”

“I was afraid that you’d turn me down. I don’t think I could have faced that.”

“So, instead, you push me out of your life.”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “I’m an idiot.”

“I knew that.” Irene shook her head. “I’m still mad at you but I think I can understand where you’re coming from.” She cracked her knuckles. “Let me think about things and get back to you.”

Saddened but resigned, Gwen agreed. She watched Irene walk down the stairs before closing the door and going to layback down on the sofa. Tugging the afghan down around her, she fell into a restless sleep, wondering what Irene was doing now.

Her ex lover barged into her best friends office. Her usually beautifully coiffed hair was in disarray, Irene was so upset she couldn’t speak. Liv waved off her concerned secretary and bade Irene to sit.

“I can’t,” she retorted as she paced in front of the large oak desk. “I’m so mad I could shit kittens.”

“What happened?”

“I went to see Gwen.”

Liv’s eyes narrowed, “Was she mean to you again?”

“No. She apologized.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“She dropped a bombshell in my lap.”

“What?” Liv glanced at her clock and saw that she still had forty-five minutes before she had to leave for court. “Does it have anything to do with why she disappeared and why she’s been such a bitch lately?”

“Yeah. She told me she’s dying.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“No, I’m as serious as a heart attack or aggressive mantle cell lymphoma, whichever comes first.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.” Irene faced her and leaned her clenched fists on the desk. “It there some noble butch code that makes you all incapable of communicating?”

“Hey, don’t include me in that broad generalization.”

“Why not?”

“Um, because I’m sensitive and shit.”

“Whatever.” She began pacing again. “I saw an envelope there with your name on it.”

“Really? Why?”

“How am I to know? I’m just the ex-lover.”

Liv studied her best friend. “When did she find out? I mean, about the death sentence?”

“A couple of weeks ago.”

“Right about the time that you were winning that new account.”

“So what?”

“I seem to recall that you didn’t tell her about that.”

“We weren’t really talking at the time.”

“Why?”

“I don’t quite know. We’d fought when I first got back from Michigan and she was tired all the time and generally not fun to be around. I guess we were drifting apart.”

“So, why do you think she’d tell you something as life altering as her dying? I know you didn’t tell her about Puppy because she was shocked by the tape and you didn’t keep her apprised of the account news.”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Someday you might even come to believe it.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I am, Irene. And that means pointing out when you’re being a raging hypocrite.”

****

Jenny came upstairs and knocked timidly. When there was no answer she paced on the small landing before deciding to let herself inside. Taking the key down from above the door lintel, she unlocked the door and peeked inside.

There were few lights on in the apartment but she could see a bundled outline on the couch. Gingerly, she stepped across the room and stared down at the slumbering woman. Gwen’s hair was in disarray and, even asleep, she had deep shadows under her eyes.

Resisting the impulse to touch, Jenny coughed softly. When there was no response, she tried again but this time she began hacking uncontrollable.

Under a blanket despite the warmth of the morning, Gwen blinked at the woman standing and staring down at her. “Am I going to have to ask for my key back?”

“I don’t think I’d give it to you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You need someone to check in on you.” Jenny sat down on the coffee table and brushed Gwen’s bangs back. “You feel warm.”

“I have a nurse who comes in every day to check on me. I don’t need this from you.”

“What about your other friends? I’ve noticed that you’ve pretty much isolated yourself up here.”

“I’m not going to be a bother.”

“I don’t think it would be bothering folks to know what your status is. I know that I’d be pretty upset if you hadn’t told me.”

“If you recall, that information was forced out of me.”

“Why? Why don’t you want anyone to know? We could help.”

“I don’t want help.”

“Is it too weak to ask for help?”

“Jenny, I really don’t want to have this conversation.”

“I hate to be the one to tell you that you don’t control everything.”

“Are you kidding me? I can no longer even control my own cells. Can’t you give me a chance to have dignity in this?”

“I’m not trying to take that away. You have friends in your life who would do anything to make this transition easier.”

“Shows how little you know.”

“I know that you have plenty of people in your life who love you. People who deserve a chance to make peace with this.”

“How can they, when I haven’t?”

“You’re still angry.”

“No, shit.”

“Don’t take it out on the rest of us.”

“I shouldn’t have to play nice anymore.”

“Why? You think your humanity disappears just because your life is over? I never took you for a fool.”

“Hey! Sick person here. You can stop abusing me at any time.”

“It’s not abuse. It’s tough love.” Jenny clasped her hands together. “Please, let me tell people about your condition.”

“Just wait until you have something definite to tell them.”

“Like what?”

“The date and time of my funeral.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I didn’t mean for it to be.” Gwen tugged at her ear lobe. “Look, if it will make you happy to be the bearer of bad news, be my guest. I don’t want a lot of visitors, though.”

“I’ll tell them to send email.”

“That works.”

“Where’s your address book?”

“Over on the desk.”

Jenny walked over and picked it up. “Why is it out?”

“Because I’ve been thinking about calling folks.”

“And you just put me through the wringer for nothing?”

“You’re easy to rile. I’ve got to have some fun.”

“You’re a fake and I see through your routine.” She raised her eyebrow when Gwen stuck out her tongue. “I’m going to go make some calls.”

Chapter Eight – And Then You Die

Liv came tentatively into the room. The door was partially opened. “Hey, I was looking for Gwen.”

A plus size woman with numerous shells and beads braided in her straightened hair, looked up from her clipboard. “She’s not having a particularly good day but you can go back if you want.”

Not particularly wanting to but feeling the weight of expectation, Liv moved through the house. The bedroom was dark. The beautiful sleigh bed had been removed and a utilitarian hospital bed stood in the middle of the room. Not seeing Gwen in the room, she went into the bathroom.

Gwen was on the floor, leaning against the wall to the shower, within spitting distance of the toilet. Judging from the blotched appearance of her face, Liv figured she’d been doing more than spitting.

“Um, Gwen?”

Her eyelids flickered and then dark eyes opened and turned in her direction. Liv held still against the silent study. Sighing, Gwen closed her eyes again.

Liv watched her for a moment before whispering, “Hey, wakeup.”

“What do you want?”

“Irene said you’ve got a letter here with my name on it.”

“Yeah.” Gwen opened her eyes again. “Did she tell you it was in the pile of stuff to be opened upon my death?”

“She mentioned that you’d gotten a terminal diagnosis.”

“I bet that’s exactly how she put it.” Gwen licked her lips and grimaced. “Help me up, please.”

Liv obliged and stood watching as Gwen ran a quick brush over her teeth. She followed the other woman as she walked into the main room. Gwen went to the desk and sorted through the papers until she found two envelops. One was business sized and the other was 9 inches by13.

She thrust them at the other woman and went over to the kitchen. “Take the time you need to read them.” In the kitchen she sank into one of the chairs. She pressed her hands flat on the table and looked at the hospice nurse. “Well?”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, Nurse Ratchet, I am ready to get my next meal through my belly button.”

“I’m only going to tell you one more time, don’t call me Ratchet. Trust me, you don’t know what pain is until you piss me off.” Her half smile gave lie to the words.

“All right, Tanika. You win. I’ll be good.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to make a special effort on my behalf.” As they laughed, she filled a large bore syringe with brown goop from a jar. She held it up and waited for Gwen.

At the affirmative nod, she bent and lifted up Gwen’s t-shirt to reveal a g-tube in her abdomen. Tanika was in the process of injecting the supplemental meal into the tube when Liv walked in to the room.

“Gwen, are you sure…” She stopped dead at the sight of her best friend’s ex-lover partial clad upper body and the eight-inch tube sticking out of her skin. “I’m sorry, I’ll go back out.”

“Don’t get your panties in a wad, Liv.” Gwen called her back. “Am I sure about what?”

She waved a check. “This.” It was a retainer check for a thousand dollars. The letter that accompanied it named her executor of the estate. “It’s a big responsibility.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Gwen said under her breath. At the quizzical look, she shrugged. “I had a disagreement with my father and I no longer want to use his law firm to represent my interests.”

“What are we talking about?”

“Do you accept the retainer?” At the quick nod, she asked, “May I have a receipt?”

Liv felt somewhat reassured by Gwen’s attitude and quickly wrote on a scrap of paper that she accepted the check as a retainer. “Tell me.”

“You’ve heard of the Louise Chalmer Foundation?” She looked up to see that she had Liv’s undivided attention. “She was my mother. It is a private foundation and I have sole discretion on the disbursement of funds. Additionally, my personal holdings are in excess of $300 million.”

Waving her arms at the small apartment, Liv floundered to get a sentence out.

Taking pity on her, Gwen answered. “I vowed that I wouldn’t touch the money. I didn’t want to be dependent upon it or defined by it.” Gwen shifted slightly as the nurse pushed another syringe full into the tube. “My ethics notwithstanding I don’t intend for my father to benefit from my demise. I don’t want him to get his hands on one thin dime.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I’m putting you in charge of the foundation and attaching my personal wealth to the giving. After settling my bequests, I want you to go on an aggressive campaign to give away as much as you can over the next five years.”

She pulled her shirt back down. “In the manila envelope are my basic guidelines. I’ve i