Chapter 12: The Gentleman at the Checkout
Paul woke up with the feeling that someone was watching him. He opened his eyes and looked around the empty room. He'd slept better these past few nights, probably because he's taken Liam's bed instead of the cheap couch. But something had caused him to wake up earlier than usual today.
He could see Evianna sitting on the counter, watching him, but he felt a distinctly human presence nearby. He got out of bed and inspected the apartment. Outside the windows the city still lay in semi-darkness. After he'd made sure that there were no intruders he went back, sat on the edge of the bed, and said to the dimly-lit room in a soft, pre-dawn voice, “Shayala?”
He got no answer, but he hadn't expected to.
He put his head in his hands. “I still have no idea how to find Foxtrot and Fleet Fingers. How could they hide so well for so long with the things they've been doing? Rowan called last night to tell me there's been another robbery. We can't connect it to them but it seems to fit their MO. That's eight in the past year, and possibly more that we haven't linked with them.”
He grinned and rubbed his face, feeling the stubble. His wife would want him to shave.
“It almost makes me want to call up the Guardians again. I hear Kite is still up to her usual tricks, though if I went to ask for her help she'd probably kick me out. I don't think I've seen them since I was Liam's age. Liam... I don't think he would've lasted a day with the Guardians. And yet, I'm supposed to turn over everything to him, even though I can't catch these guys myself? I don't know, maybe I'm just getting old. Maybe Liam can handle this once he gets a little more sense knocked into him. What do you think?” Paul reached out into the air, wishing his hand could close around something solid--his fingers curled convulsively, trying to capture hers, but as always she was too far away for him to reach.
Something like a heat wave coming out of nowhere from nothing stirred the air and brushed the back of his hand. He opened his hand, holding out palm-up, and a soft breeze puffed against his skin before the heat haze vanished. But Paul didn't lower his hand for a while, and continued to stare at the empty room.
He felt like he'd missed a step going down the stairs. Most of the time he could get through the day without thinking about her, but she'd felt so near that for a moment he'd thought maybe this time, if he only reached out, he would find her. Like every time that had come before, he'd been wrong. She couldn't come back.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered.
Then he stood up with his usual determination to ignore the things that threatened to drag him down and went to the dresser to get some clothes.
The longer he took to find Fleet and Foxtrot, the longer it would take to train Liam; and the sooner Liam took over from him, the sooner he could walk away from this life, which would mean walking away from her as well, but that would be easier. A clean break, as clichéd as that sounded.
At least when Liam had been here he hadn't felt like he was alone with her all the time.
He decided he'd go and talk to Samuel Jones today, see if he could get something out of him this time. He could understand fear, but this man irked him.
He knocked at the door and opened it at the same time. It was locked, but a little twist of his mind took care of that. "You should lock your door," he said, stepping in.
Jones sat on his couch, staring at the TV. He glanced up, saw who it was, and looked back at the screen. "No, I didn't suddenly remember some crucial detail about the crime scene. I'd like to help you, but right now something exciting is about to happen on the tube, and I need to..."
Paul marched over and picked him up by the front of the shirt. Jones tried to push him off, but a stiffer consistency to the air slowed him down. "There were two people at the bank, a man and a woman, long hair. You saw them, but they scared you by doing something they shouldn't be able to do, and you kept quiet."
"Two freaks wouldn't have scared me!" said Samuel gruffly. "Let go."
Paul released him. "You saw what my son did the other day. He's just a kid. Trust me, if I decide you make me angry, the doggy plates will be the last thing to go. Now I've played nice. I thought I'd find these guys some other way. But they're turnin out to be a mite elusive, so you either clean up and revise your statement or I will demonstrate how well I deserve the title of 'freak.'"
Jones scowled at him, but Paul could see that his lower lip trembled a little, like he was about to have a breakdown. He recovered his tough look and said, "Two people came past me out of one of the vaults. I'd doubled back on my usual rounds to get something to drink, so they didn't expect me there, I guess. The woman, she..." Jones paled. "She picked me up like I was a doll and pinned me against the wall. The man told her not to kill me. Then they threatened me, said they'd come after me if I said anything..."
"Anything else?"
"She let me go and then they were gone, poof. I blinked and they weren't there anymore. I'm guessing that's how they got past the security cameras."
Paul nodded and walked out of the apartment.
"No one would have believed me!" Jones shouted after him.
"I believe you," Paul called back. "Isn't that comforting?"
Rowan was off-duty that day, so he went over to her apartment instead of to the station. It was mid-morning by then, between breakfast and all the back-and-forth in the city. Rowan already had everything spread out on her table, all the reports of the robberies they'd connected with the F-team, and any other that might be related. She was already angry.
"I've been up since dawn with this stupid case. On my day off. This has got to end."
"My thoughts exactly," said Paul.
They spent the day going over everything, trying to find a connection between the robberies. On all occasions, they'd taken seemingly random things--jewelry, valuable items, a bit of cash here and there. There seemed to be no pattern, except for what they'd discovered over the past few weeks: the complete lack of criteria for what they took. They seemed to be deliberately taking things that couldn't be connected to each other.
"There's no way they could sell all these things easily," said Paul over the pizza they'd ordered for lunch. "With so much diversity, they'd have to have dozens of buyers. That doesn't seem practical."
"Maybe they're crazy," said Rowan, rubbing her temples.
"If only we had some idea of what they'd hit next..." Paul sighed. "I hate these guys. Have I mentioned that?"
Rowan grinned. "Not as much as I do."
"Throwing my son through a window, kidnapping antique dealers... still no news on her, by the way?"
"Nope. Nothing."
"Of course. Nothing. As usual."
That evening, Paul jogged home to vent a little of the frustration through exercise. He arrived at Liam's apartment tired, hungry, and sweaty, ready for a hot shower, a hot dinner, and a warm bed--the temperature kept getting colder, darn it.
He fished around in his pockets for the keys to the apartment and was about to open it when he heard someone approach from behind.
"Mr. Galagher?" said Winter.
He turned. "Liam's not here."
"Yeah, he told me he was staying at his mother's house."
"His parents' house," said Paul, a little irritated. "It's my house, too."
"Right, sorry. I was just coming to talk to you, to find out how he was doing. I was kind of in a hurry when I stopped by the hospital the other day and I didn't get a chance to..." She faltered. He wondered what his expression looked like, because it had obviously put her off.
Young love, he thought. Is this all it's good for? I'm kind of worried, but I couldn't bother to find out the details of him falling out of a window the other day because I was so busy. Oh, yeah, Liam and Winter, love forever.
"He's great," said Paul. "I'm sure he'd appreciate you being so concerned for him, but if you want to know more you should really talk to him, not me."
"I meant when he was going to recover, and if he'd have any complications from the injury and everything."
"Nope. No complications. He'll be skipping through the daisies soon as you can sneeze."
"Oh, okay. Good."
"Top-tier."
"Um... so, tell him I said hi."
"There's a phone at our home. You can call him same as me."
"Yeah, I just wanted to... never mind." She seemed a bit irritated herself, but he didn't care much. She'd had her time to act concerned before. He nodded and went into the apartment, closing the door behind him with a firm click.
"This is what modern romance looks like," he said to the empty room. "Aren't we a pair of old fools?"***
Winter walked out of Liam's apartment building, wrapping her coat around her against the chill. She knew Liam's father probably resented her for acting so distant the other day, but what did he know? If he'd had to deal with what she... never mind. She didn't know anything about him, so she shouldn't judge him. Maybe it was just the cold. It made everyone curt, since they were so desperate to get inside.
About halfway to her apartment she realized she must be running out of groceries. She was just a block away from one of the supermarkets she usually went to, so she'd stop by there. She had a little extra money lately, so she decided she'd get herself some comfort food.
The owners of the store kept it sweltering all year long, so she took off her coat and left it at the entrance. It was nearly deserted at this time of night, so it shouldn't take too long. She wandered the aisles, looking for food staples, a few household supplies, and a bit of something to lighten her mood.
She saw a bag of the kind of marshmallows she hadn't eaten since she was a young girl. She bent over and picked them up off the bottom shelf, smiling at the memories of hot chocolate and teddy bear-shaped multicolored marshmallows floating around inside. If she could find some powdered cocoa, she could make herself some... then she noticed the price. Urgh. Well, she could splurge a little. But when she located the cocoa, she calculated that one cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows would cost about as much as her average meal.
"I don't remember things being so expensive," she muttered.
"I keep thinking the prices have gone up," said a voice from beside her. She jumped. A man with long, orange hair had appeared out of nowhere. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"That's okay," she said, realizing she had the prettiest blue eyes she'd ever seen. "So have they? The prices, I mean. Have they gone up?"
"No, it's just that we're around that age where you start having money to buy extra things like you used to when you were with your parents, only you're used to living off the bare essentials like you've been doing since you left your parents' house."
"That makes sense." Winter bounced the marshmallow package lightly in her hand. "So this is what being a real grownup is like? I keep thinking I've reached that stage already."
"Yeah, I know what you mean. I've considered myself fully grown since the time I was twelve."
Winter laughed and then hesitated before holding out her hand. "I'm Winter Mercier."
"Elijah Carlyle." They shook hands. "It's nice to meet you, Winter. Do you come to this store often?"
"Oh, most every week. I live nearby. What about you?"
"A ways away," he said with a wistful sigh. "My real home, anyway. What I like to call my 'temporary home' isn't too far. About four blocks away."
"So for the purposes of the city, we're practically neighbors."
Elijah laughed. "Yeah, I guess we are. We might even have run into each other before, although I'd probably remember your hair."
"I change it a lot. A few weeks ago it was bright orange, and it used to be longer. For a long while in college I was completely bald."
"So... you're in the circus?"
Winter giggled. "Kind of feels that way sometimes." She lost her amusement. "Yeah, that's exactly what my life is. A circus. A freak-show. You know, a few days ago my boyfriend fell out of a fourth-floor window? And he's fine. Just a broken rib or so."
Elijah raised his eyebrows. "You have a boyfriend? Good thing you slipped that in there, I was about to ask you out." They both laughed. "I'm glad your boyfriend's okay. How did he fall? Through a window, that seems like a hard thing to do."
"Yeah, I know. The thing is, his whole life is kind of bizarre. I get the sense he's hiding some big secret from me, like he's a spy or a superhero or something."
Elijah let out a startled chuckle. "Those would be weird secrets to have."
"So I guess you don't have a girlfriend, since you were going to ask me out. Any family nearby?"
"No. My roommate is like the most annoying sister a person could hope for, though. She's always stealing my things, and she never wants to go out and have fun. She spends all her time working. She does wake me up in the middle of the night singing Invincible by Michael Jackson at the top of her lungs, though, so she does have a bit of fun."
"She sounds like an interesting roommate."
"Oh, you have no idea."
"What's her work?"
"We actually work together. Don't ask me how I got roped into that." He rolled his eyes. "We have a small business, buying and selling artifacts and jewelry. Yes, it's just as boring as it sounds, but it pays the rent. What about you?"
"I'm a painter. Strictly local, though I've been having a larger reach lately."
"Hey, that's right. I thought your name sounded familiar. I was at a gallery where they displayed a few of your paintings. Your work is amazing."
Winter looked at the floor, embarrassed and flattered. "You think?"
"Oh, absolutely. It's full of life and energy; I'd never seen anything like it. I see a bit of art in my line of work, and outside of it, too. I enjoy it, especially modern art. But your paintings, Winter... wow. They blew me away. Let's see... what was the name of that one? Paradise Has Been Swallowed by a Modern Man?" Winter nodded. "Oh, that was spectacular. I've never seen any other artist that uses color like you do. It's like, wham! So much personality. I can see your love of color translates into all aspects of your life." He gestured toward her hair.
She raised the package of multicolored marshmallows. "Plain old white is boring."
They laughed and Winter realized she hadn't enjoyed talking to someone this much for a long time. Liam was nice, but he was so hard to connect with sometimes. How was it that she felt like she already felt like she had more in common with this stranger than with her boyfriend? And it was just so comfortable chatting.
"I think you should buy that," said Elijah. "What's the point of sitting on your money? Enjoy it. It's the season. You know, I think I'll get some myself. Where are those colored bear marshmallows? I'd like to try them."
She showed him where they were, he recommended a better brand of cocoa, and they went over to the cashier's to pay. She was wondering if she had everything when a man pushed in front of her in the line, like he'd never heard of a queue.
"Excuse me?" she said. "I was here."
The guy didn't pay any attention and started putting his purchases on the counter. She hadn't said it softly, so he must have heard her.
Elijah stepped around Winter and pulled the man around a bit roughly by the shoulder. "Wax. Ears. You might want to think about it."
"What are you talking about?" asked the man.
"She was ahead of you in the line. I was ahead of you, too, for that matter. You might be in a hurry, but you can't just cut in front of people who were here before you. If you're going to deliver those goods to a charity that closes before nine or something, by all means tell us and we'll let you go first. If, on the other hand, you're just cutting the line because you feel like it, I suggest you apologize and go wait in the back."
"You go around teaching people manners? What are you, Mr. Perfect? We'd all be done by now."
"Yeah, but you see, I've got all night. I don't go to work tomorrow. I'm not saying I can make the world a better place by putting you in your place, but I don't stand around and let people walk over me or anyone else, even if it's just disrespecting a silly convention like lines. That's just who I am."
"Fine. I got the message. I won't be shopping here again, that's for sure."
He tried to get past, but Elijah held up his hands. "Uh-uh. Apologize to the lady."
"I'm sorry," he said grudgingly.
The cashier seemed a bit sour when he added up their purchases, probably because Elijah had chased away a customer. They left the store, stepping out into the cold, and stood at the base of the steps.
"You really hate line-cutters," said Winter.
"I can't stand people who disrespect others."
"I think you made the cashier mad."
Elijah grinned. "That happens. I don't waste tears over offending people who value their own convenience over the well-being of others. If he wanted that idiot as a customer, let him go ahead and bring him back."
"I've never actually met anyone who confronts people like that before."
"Then you live in a world of cowards, Miss Mercier."
Boy, was he different from Liam! Something about the mix between his playful smile and the conviction in his expression made him so... attractive. She almost wished she could have taken him up on his offer to take her out.
"I think Liam would be more likely to be the one who cuts in front of me than the one who confronts the guy who does. Not on purpose; he's just a bit clueless to what's going around around him. A bit callous, sometimes... What?"
Elijah had a strange look. "Liam?"
"Oh, my boyfriend. Liam Galagher. Do you know him? No, sorry, you probably don't. I spend so much time in a little bubble environment with my college friends and artists and everything..."
"No, I don't know him." For some reason, he seemed completely crestfallen. It was without any real enthusiasm that he said, "I should probably get home before my roommate comes looking for me, demanding the things I was supposed to buy for her. Maybe I'll run into you again some other time." He gave a slight smile and walked off.
Winter tried to think of something to say. Maybe she could ask him to hang out with her and her friends sometime. She'd like to be friends with him, or at least get to know him better. She hardly ever hit it off so well so soon with anyone. But by the time she'd worked out what to say, he'd already crossed the street and was heading down a little path that went through the park.
Why had his mood changed so suddenly? Maybe it was because she'd reminded him she had a boyfriend. Winter put on her coat, gathered her purchases to her chest, and headed home. She was glad she'd bought the marshmallows and cocoa.
Thank you for reading and for your comments! I hope you enjoyed this episode.
This story calls for
a lot of sims. So I was wondering if anyone would like to participate in the creation of a few! In episode 14 there will be several new sims. That's next Sunday, so there's plenty of time if you want to create a sim and upload him or her for me to use in the story. Several of Winter's friends will appear, most of them art students and young aritsts, but feel free to make their appearance and traits whatever you want or think would be the type of people Winter would hang out with! I only have the sims Ambitions and Pets, so please use hairstyles, clothes, accessories, traits, etc. only from those expansions. If you want me to use your sim, please upload him or her to the exchange and leave a comment or PM me. I would greatly appreciate your help and contribution to the story. Thanks!
Stay tuned for
Episode 13: Blue Memories this Wednesday!
