Rose for Rose: Book Two in the Angels' Mirror Series (20 page)

Twenty Eight

Salem, Oregon… August 17, 2013

With a grimace, Arthur reread the letter he’d received from Mark Jeffries the night before.

He wished the men in the next cell over… shoot… he wished everyone in the whole cellblock would just shut up.

If it were yard time, at least he might have a little less noise. With over two thousand others here, a hundred ninety five of them in his area, there was an undercurrent of constant but controlled chaos.

Why they’d put him in with the crap of the crop instead of the cream of it was beyond him. Why would he need to be in Intensive Management? He hadn’t done anything worse than the people in the minimum or medium security parts of this horrid and dark system.

If anything, he would argue, the prison system is what did him in and forced him to-

No!

He wouldn’t go there.

Even his mother didn’t believe him now. Why should he keep continuing in his…?

No! He wasn’t delusional.

It was everyone else.

It had to be.

They were all out to get him and make his life a living hell simply because he protected himself against those… those women.

Arthur shook his head and straightened the letter out in front of him on his pillow, if they could even call it one.

He had a little time before his ABE class, and then had to check in with his counselor, but still….

He had to think.

The news Mark sent him, once more, stymied him, and he hated that feeling. It was almost as if the man was taunting him, trying to get him to go over the edge of sanity again. Now that judge thought he had been sane when he’d…
No! Stop it,
he told himself.
Can’t be doin’ nothin’ ‘bout dat no mo’, so jus’ stop it, Arthur!

How could there still be no more news about Rosemary but some little kid could come through the mirror? He knew there had to be something fishy about it!

Though he and Mark wrote a lot in code to keep their business theirs, there was enough evidence to suggest that this girl was nothing at all like Rosemary; she was from the wrong time and place.

It wasn’t her.

If only his mail didn’t get searched. If only they didn’t have to use this… this blasted code that he didn’t always recall. If only Mark would come and actually talk to him.

But no… he had been at the trial, and sat on his side of the room. He had looked nervous, as though he’d done something wrong. And to this day, Arthur almost wondered what the man was hiding from him.

Had he, too, betrayed Arthur?

There was no way to prove who went to the basement that night and found… proof. Mark hadn’t testified against him, as far as he knew, but there were those two days Arthur wasn’t allowed into the courtroom, and all he’d been told was it was a witness who didn’t wish to be identified. As though Arthur was going to do something to him? Or her? Was it Mark, or was it that girlfriend of Rosemary’s.

Wait a minute,
he thought.
That dagnabbed girl! How I forgot her until… it had to be… but then, how could she? She didn’t know me, where Dabney live. Now how would she…?

Fiercely swearing under his breath, he glanced at his cellie once more.

He was asleep.

Good. ‘Bout time!

Dat man get on my nerves somethin’ fiercelike
, he thought silently; bitterly.
Serve him right bein’ here, but me? I don’ deserve dis! I should be able to jus’ get on wit ma life and have all dis over, ‘stead of fitteen mo’ years, mebbe, in here. And dat’s be if I’s good! Why, those….

Another stream of foul language escaped his lips, and his cellie, Paxton, rolled over with a groan.

“Whatcha go wakin’ me up for, huh, Reynolds? You askin’ for a beatin’ tonight?”

Paxton’s beady brown eyes bore into him as he sat up.

“Nah, man. Jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’ from years back. Sorry. Ma bad,” he said, standing, palms out as a sign of peace.

No way was he going to be lying down if Paxton was in this mood, and in a better position for a fight. He knew the man had been caught with shanks in the past.

Hell, he be here in Max’mum for dat ver’ reason
, Arthur thought.

It didn’t matter to Arthur that he was nearly five inches taller than his cellmate; the man was a threat to society, and to him.

How he’d ended up here was anybody’s guess, since so many of the guys talked it up with lies, playin’ things either up or down from reality.
“Least I’m not like all dat, wit dey makin’ up mess,
he thought, going back to his letter only after Paxton settled back down.

A few moments later, there was a guard at the door.

Ironic.

It was the same one who was at the bus stop all those years ago when he’d been released last time. But hopefully Arthur was the only one who recalled that little detail.

With a huff, he stood back up and quickly collected his class material. Thankfully, he hadn’t had a lot of written homework.

The door rattled as it slammed open. “Okay, Reynolds. Time for ABE. Best have everything together for that, and your appointment with the doc, too,” the man said gruffly. “Your class is in five minutes. Hustle. Now.”

As Arthur heard the door clank behind him, he followed Officer Montana down the hall to the catcalls of a handful of other men.

A shiver wended its way down his spine, like it did every time he walked these halls. But he wouldn’t show fear or discrimination; not him.

Otherwise, he’d be dead in a week.

As the officer opened the next set of doors, Arthur thought again of Mark’s letter.

The man had done well, even though Arthur knew he begrudged him the time it took to search out whatever really happened to Rosemary Jenkins. There had to be a reason he could use to get out of this murder rap he was paying for with so many years of his life.

It didn’t matter that he’d kept the women alive. In the book of that stupid judge and jury, all that mattered was the result they saw before them.

Even if it wasn’t the full truth.

Arthur cringed as he heard his cellie’s voice amidst the chaos.

He always hated having to come back to their “lair,” as the man called it.

Like dis be someone lair
, he thought.
Don’ nob’dy be stupid ‘nough to tink dis place be a good ting, and he be callin’ it “da lair,””
he smirked to himself as he kept walking.

“Reynolds, what’s keeping you? Come on, now, Boy… get in there. Your socializing is done for today,” the guard said as he prodded him along with his elbow.

One of these days, he’d like to break that elbow!
How dare dat man tink he higher dan me? Do he even know who I be named for? Do he even unders’and I be Arthur Reynolds da Tird, named after Gran’daddy Reynolds? Why, my gran’father been onea da best daggumit baseball players dis place eva raise and seen out on da fiels. He should have respet fo’ me, ‘cause of dat. Gran’daddy’s ghose gonna come wreak havoc on him fo’ all dis trouble he be causin’ me.

Lost in thought, Arthur followed the guard past the jeering men, trying to ignore all the noise around him.

Soon, he’d make sure they had what came to them, if they didn’t stop treating him like some common criminal! There wasn’t any way he was going to put up with all this mistreatment.

“Don’ I gets a phone call t’day, Officer,” he finally asked as he walked into his cell, head held high, a smile plastered onto his face.

“Yard time’s over, Reynolds. Whatever it is, it’ll have to wait until tomorrow if you’ve got things together,” the guard replied as the door clanked shut.

The man smiled, and Arthur wondered why he was ever nice to him.

Of all the guards, this guy was one of the nicest he’d encountered, truth be told.

“Dagnabbit,” Arthur said under his breath before replying. “Fine, be dat way. I’s gonna get somethin’ Gran’daddy done sign for ya to put in dat stupid auction I heared you talkin’ to dem other guards ‘bout, but fo’get it. My gran’daddy done lef me so much sign junk you’da made a bunnle on it, but you treatin’ me like dirt ain’t gonna help dat now, nohow.”

“Reynolds, you tryin’ to bribe an officer o’ the law,” he heard Paxton say behind him.

Swiftly turning to his cellmate, he heard the guard sigh and walk away without even responding.

“What was dat fo’?”

Paxton glared at him, his face raised to meet the challenge despite their height difference. “You know better than that, Reynolds… by now, don’cha know better? They add to your time and not even flinch a muscle,” he said, balling his fists. “And I, for one, want to steer clear o’ lookin’ even remotely involved in anythin’ givin’ me more time. I got fifteen months down, and fourteen to go. Don’t you go screw this up for me!”

Twenty Nine

Vancouver, Washington

“Thank you for coming in, Mariana. This has been a long time coming, and I actually meant to have this conversation with you earlier,” Paloma said as she watched her friend and employee smooth her fuchsia skirt and settle into a chair.

Promptly following suit, she sat across from the woman.

“Is everything okay,” Mariana asked as she swept back her blonde hair and quickly re-fastened it into its clip.

Her Romanian accent was only slight, and Paloma was thankful not for the first time that the woman had been born in Portland rather than Bucharest, if for no other reason than that it would be easier for customers to understand her.

It was a voice that had always reminded Paloma of whipped butter; smooth and silky. It was like an oil that washed over you and made you want to stay forever, it was so warm.

“Oh, yes, yes,” Paloma said, her palms beginning to grow damp.

They had discussed this more than once, but always in passing. Now she wondered if Mariana would be willing…

“I was actually calling you in here so we had some privacy to further discuss your taking over of the everyday tasks for Amethyst & Alabaster. If you recall,” she continued, forcing herself past fear, “I had mentioned a few weeks before Cherish was born that I’d need more help. It would mean,” she said as Mariana’s brown eyes widened and her delicate little mouth opened wide, “you would be in charge. I would still have design input and be on the board of advisors, but…”

“But…?” The woman’s left eyebrow was cocked, as usually happened when she became confused. “But what? You’re saying that I’d be in…?”

“You’d be the face at the helm and have more input on design; you’d take over most of the rest of the tasks I was doing, and you’d get a twelve percent increase in your salary for the first year. If all goes well, I’ll make it fifteen percent for the second.”

Heart pounding in her chest, Paloma smoothed her hands against the navy slacks she wore. Would Mariana accept her offer, or refuse?

“I… well, Paloma, I don’t know what to say. I… at first, I thought you were joking, but then I thought about it… when you first mentioned it, I mean. And then, I started to dream, and to hope. To be given an opportunity like this can help my family, and it gives me a lot more responsibility, so…”

“Mariana,” Paloma interjected, hating to interrupt, “if you’re open to this idea, I already have a contract written up. Basically the same as the first one, but with the changes I’ve mentioned. If you’d like a few days to think it over, I would understand.”

“Girlfriend… I mean… sorry, Ms. Paloma… I would be honored to take over for you,” her friend said almost immediately. “There’s nothing to think about. As I said, it can help not only me, but my family. I don’t know if you realize… I still have a lot of family in Romania. All of my mother’s siblings, and a grandmother,” she said, recrossing her legs as she spoke.

“That means also fifteen cousins I’ve never met. But I help them; my mother asked me when I was eleven if anything ever happened to her, would I send money, so… I just… I know Mom is still alive and doing alright, but she’s getting up in years now, and so… I’ve been sending a little each check for the past five years.” A shy smile came over Mariana’s face, and she flushed a pale pink.

How anyone could look so beautiful all the time astounded Paloma, but even more she was humbled by the woman’s kind spirit and love of family.

“It’s alright, Mariana. It’s an exciting thing; I don’t mind “Girlfriend” when we’re one on one… which will be a lot more often now that you will be in charge. That’ll mean more hours, and more pay, but less sewing on your part. There will be a lot of management, but I believe in you. I think you will handle it just fine,” she replied.

The woman might not manage
Amethyst & Alabaster
the same way she, herself, would, but that would be alright. So long as she didn’t try to get in the way and overrun the woman’s decisions, Paloma believed Mariana would succeed possibly even better than she had. It was a win-win, since they’d both still be getting paid and Paloma, as Creator, still had some say.

“So, if you’ll excuse me a moment, I will get the contract and be back quickly.”

Mariana smiled and nodded. “Sure, Paloma, take your time. I’ll be here.”

Thankful for her friend, and thankful even more for her willingness to shift her role and take on more responsibility, Paloma stood, stretched a moment, and went to into the office for the paperwork and a pen.

For such a special occasion, maybe a feather pen would be best
, she thought, grabbing one of the handful left over from their last marketing event. When she glanced briefly out the window, she saw a pair of jays on the lawn, and smiled as they danced their way along the edge of the grass near their Japanese maple.

As she turned to go, the phone rang.

She picked it up on the third ring. “Hello, Amethyst & Alabaster, Paloma speaking, how may I help you?”

For a moment, she heard nothing, and then the blood in her veins went cold as she heard breathing, and then, a familiar voice.

“Pal? Finally! That really you? I thought you’d never answer this blasted phone. What kind o’ hours you keepin’ anyways, Girl. Just wanted ta let you know I be back in town, and Lovan wants to come see you.”

Quentin.

Of all times for him to show back up, why did it have to be now? Seriously?

Lord, help me! I can’t do this right now!

“Quentin, I’m awfully busy. Glad to hear you’re both safe and alright, but we’ve asked you not to contact us. That means at home
or
at work,” she replied, her heart in her throat, hoping she sounded calm.

A string of swearwords followed her reply, and she hung up the phone.

“What is it, Jesus? What’s going on that has Quentin back in my life… back in our lives? Why now? Why him? Why us? I just… I just don’t understand? It seems like every time one thing goes right, three more go badly, and I’m getting tired, Lord… so tired,” she prayed as tears began to fall.

She didn’t need this.

Didn’t need him back in her life.

None of them did.

If he followed through on his threats, then…

“Then none of us will be safe,” she finished aloud. “And what then, Jesus? What would you have us do right now, with this new information?”

She swept her tears away, sniffling to keep from crying even more. A glance in her mirror proved there was mascara-run, so she took some Kleenex from the box near the phone and daubed her face until she was presentable. Then, quickly making sure she had Mariana’s contract and pen in hand, Paloma hurried out the office door and locked up.

As soon as she finished her meeting, she’d have to tell Tawny to be on the lookout.

Or maybe….

As she arrived back in the little lunch area where Mariana waited for her, she made a decision. “Here we are,” she said, and heard her own voice shaking. “Why don’t I leave this here for you to read through and sign, and I’ll be back in a few minutes. Something’s come up, and I… I need to talk with my babysitter a moment. Do you need anything from inside the house while I’m there?”

Mariana shook her head, “I don’t think so, Paloma.”

Taking the contract and pen from her, the woman’s eyes were filled with concern. “I don’t mean to pry, but… is everything alright?”

What could she say?

She liked Mariana, and even saw her as a friend, but she had to tell Tawny and Edward before saying something to anyone else. They had to come up with a strategy, and fast!

“Nothing for you to worry about right now. Just a strange phone call. No worries,” she replied before heading back outside to go around to the back of the house again. If she used the back door, at least Tawny would know she or one of the
A&A
workers was who entered.

On the way, Paloma raised a silent prayer, took a few deep breaths, and tried to steady her heartbeat, which still ran wildly within her.

“Tawny, it’s just me, but I have to talk to you,” she called as she entered the house.

Quickly following the sound of her sons’ playing, she found Tawny, the twins, Cherish, and Tawny’s youngest child, Lindsay, in the boys’ room. Her friend was just closing a book of Bible stories as she rounded the corner into their presence.

“Lindsay, can you be a big girl and watch Cherish and the boys a few minutes,” she asked, her heart still thudding in her chest. “Auntie Paloma needs to talk to Mommy for a little bit.”

At the young girl’s large smile and vigorous nod, she watched as the boys took her by the hand.

“Bwoks,” Duncan said with a demanding tone. “Linsy, bwoks wif us.” He batted his eyes at her and laughed, clapping, as if he was playing a game.

The three formed a circle on the ground near the blocks and Lindsay showed them how to cross their legs. “Alright, Duncan. We’ll do some blocks. But we have to sit like Indians… or whoever crosses them like this,” she said, pointing to her own legs.

Chosen immediately seemed to grasp how to do it, and then Duncan followed suit with some struggle. Cherish was in a bouncy toy nearby, asleep.

Paloma’s heart thumped as she thought of what Quentin’s renewed presence might cost her… and her family. As Lindsay began to help the boys sort blocks into different colors, she smiled.

Silently pulling herself away from the scene, Paloma followed Tawny into the living room, making sure to leave the twins’ door cracked to listen.

After the two were seated, she began: “Tawny, you remember that letter I showed you… well, the couple of letters that were from….” Her voice was a whisper. She didn’t know what to do yet, but she had to think. “Well, he… Quentin… he just called the office for Amethyst & Alabaster. Somehow he figured out I was… anyway, however he got the number doesn’t matter. He said he’s in town and Lovan wants to see me. When I reminded him we didn’t want him contacting us he cussed me out and finally, I had to… I had to hang up on him, Tawny,” she said in a rush.

After pausing a few moments to catch her breath, she continued. “I don’t think I’ve ever hung up on someone before, and because it was the business phone, I… I’m not sure what to do. I don’t want Quentin coming back into our lives and making them a living… well, you know.”

Tawny’s quiet, wide-eyed response gave Paloma pause.

There wasn’t much her friend didn’t talk about, and she loved to talk. So was she actually in shock, or was it something else entirely?

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but…”

“What is it, Tawny,” she replied, her heart thundering within her again. What was wrong?

“I meant to tell you when I got here this morning but I was running late, you know, and I just…” Her friend looked miserably helpless. “I meant to tell you that Tom saw Quentin last night at Lloyd Center, over by Barnes and Noble. He was at that cigar place, you know?”

Paloma couldn’t do anything but nod.

“He confronted Tom, and he didn’t have Lovan with him, so he got really pretty rough. Even threatened to kill him if he didn’t fess up to where you lived and your home number, stuff like that. And… oh, I’m so sorry, Paloma,” her friend said, her voice getting quieter and quieter as she spoke, tears now filling her eyes.

“But what…”

“You know my Tom wouldn’t give any of your business away to that creep. You know that, and he didn’t. He was tempted to after Quentin hit him, but…”

“What? Wait! What do you mean Quentin hit him? Did he press charges?”

Her words came out on a breath.

She certainly prayed and hoped that Tom had more courage than she’d had last time Quentin had caused her trouble. Maybe Quentin would have learned his lesson way back then had she had the guts to defend herself or press the appropriate charges when she had the opportunity to. And they still never found out in what way he was part of her attempted mugging, though he admitted in writing he knew it had happened, and been botched.

“Well, yes. Tom figures it’s best to press charges. Especially since he had to go to the hospital to be checked out after the guards finally got him up off the floor. Then, ironically, I guess Quentin smiled, like he’d gotten away with something, as he was being escorted away. He certainly won’t be allowed in
that
mall again anytime soon, no matter what happens.”

A knock on the back door glass startled her.

Mariana!

How had she forgotten?

“Can you call and let Edward know in case Quentin tries to contact him and he can be on the lookout, Tawny? I left poor Mariana in the lunch area signing her contract, and I totally forgot about it!”

How could she do that? She’d never forgotten someone, had she?

“Sure thing,” her friend said as she gave her a big bear hug. Paloma hugged her in return, then quickly stood and headed toward the back door.

She had a feeling that between this new news and Rose’s goodbye tonight, it would be a much longer and more emotional night than she’d bargained for.