Read Vendetta Online

Authors: Jennifer Moulton

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery, #Retail, #Suspense, #Thriller

Vendetta (10 page)

    
Suddenly, a sputtering sound indicating that the pot was almost ready, reminded Mark of the coffee. He quickly walked down the stairs and sauntered over to fill their mugs, handing one over to Julie at the table and taking a seat for himself, at the breakfast bar.

    
“Thank you for the dinner offer, but, I’ve got some things to take care of,” he took a sip of his coffee.

    
“Come on, Mark. Come over and eat. I don’t expect small talk or a deep conversation out of you. Just eat some food,” Julie said insistently.

    
“I’m sorry, but I can’t. Not tonight. Thanks for the offer though,” Mark said stubbornly.

    
“Are you sure? Nick will be home and if you want to talk about anything-” Julie continued.

    
“Julie, I said no. Please understand. I have things to do,” he was becoming short with her. He didn’t want to be rude, but he really didn’t want to be social right now, let alone go to someone’s house for dinner.

    
“Oh, okay. I understand,” Julie said, looking down.

    
“Damn. Why did she have to be so nice?” Mark thought. He hated to disappoint her.

    
“Is it anything that I could help you with? You know, you don‘t even have to ask, just tell me what needs to be done. I could call some family-” Julie was cut off mid-sentence.

    
“No, it’s nothing like that. But thanks anyway,” he said frankly.

    
“Are you sure? I could go to the grocery store or…”

    
“Yes! Julie, I’m sure,” Marks loud and impatient voice came as shock to him. He toned it down immediately.

    
“There’s nothing for you to do, there’s no family to call, just… don’t worry about it. If I need help, I‘ll ask for it,” he leaned onto the counter top, sliding down onto his elbows and rubbing his head with both hands. Mark took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He looked over at a silent Julie.

    
She stared at him with wide watery eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn‘t mean to upset you. I was just trying to help,” her voice trembled.

    
“Aw, shit, I’m sorry,” Mark felt bad. Realizing his overreaction, he went over and sat across from her. Mark reached out and grabbed her hand, giving her a half smile.

    
“I‘m sorry, Jules, I know you’re just trying to help me out. The kinds of stuff I need to get done are only things I can handle. It’s nothing personal, it’s just…. complicated. Okay? You’re very nice and helpful, but I need some time right now to sort out my own issues. Please, understand that it has nothing to do with you,” Mark explained his current situation the best he could.

    
Julie looked up at him and sensed his frustration. “Of course, I understand. I mean, I guess I do,” she tried to put her fragile emotions aside.

    
“Have you heard anything from the police or the Doctors yet?” She asked.

    
“No. Not yet, but I’m… um… never mind,” Mark paused.

    
She was confused by the strange vibes he was giving off. Mark was acting… well, NOT like Mark.

    
Mark wondered if he should say something to her about hiring Williams to investigate Allie’s death. He suddenly wanted to tell her… everything. But, what would he say? How would he explain it?

    
(I’m not the man you and Nick think I am. Allie’s death wasn’t an accident. You’re in possible danger just being my friend and especially being here in my house.) Mark thought that this might be a little too much for her to handle right now. “Not the right time,” he thought.

    
Mark glanced at her face, but lingered for a moment. She was a very beautiful woman, even when she was upset and on the verge of crying. She’s a good friend, he’d say to himself, whenever he thought of her in this way. However, there was no denying that they had always had this… chemistry. The very first time they‘d met, they couldn’t stop smiling at each other, for no apparent reason. He had to force himself not to smile or look at her just to keep others from noticing. Mark quickly realized that he shouldn’t be thinking about his friend and coworker’s wife this way.

    
He drank down the rest of his black coffee and went to the sink, setting his cup inside. His phone got a text and vibrated just then. He turned his back to pull it out of his pocket and read it. It was from Williams.

    
“Mark, are you okay? Did you find something out from the Doctor?” Julie was still waiting on his answer. She was concerned with his weird behavior.

    
“I’m still waiting to hear from the investigating detectives, but the Doctor last night said it could be a few things. A food allergy, or cross contamination. They said that she most likely “asphyxiated,” he paused. He hated the sound of that word.

    
Julie gasped. “Oh, my… so it was something she ate? Like an allergic reaction to her dinner or something? That doesn’t make any sense,” she said.

    
“Yeah, I guess. A food handling accident of some kind, whatever the hell that means, but we won’t know anything till later on this week.  So, it‘s a waiting game,” Mark took a deep breath and glanced at Julie.

    
“Look, I’m being a little impatient, I know. I’m really sorry, but I’m on edge right now. I’m not the best company, so… if you don’t mind,” Mark looked down at the counter, hoping she would get the hint and understand that he was trying to tell her… to leave.

    
“Yeah, that’s fine. It‘s more than fine, it‘s totally fine!” She nervously waved her hand. “No need to apologize for anything. Least of all, how your feeling,” her voice was shaking.

    
“I hope you get all the answers you need really soon, and that you get all your, uh… stuff done, that you need to get done today or whatever,” she stood up from the table, nervously grabbing at her purse.

    
Mark reached across the table to pick up her coffee mug and Julie grabbed it. “I can get it, Mark,” she snapped.

    
His warm hand covered hers and lingered. Julie froze. She looked up into his eyes. What seemed like a totally innocent and accidental gesture became something more. There was that connection, that unmistakable spark. Their bodies were so close, that they inhaled the same breath the other exhaled. It was, as if they were breathing life into each other.

    
He cleared his throat and looked away, letting go of her hand.

    
She quickly went to the sink and rinsed out her cup, setting it onto the counter.

     “I
’ve got to get going anyway, dinner doesn’t cook itself,” she fidgeted with her purse on her shoulder as she went to the door. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the handle.

    
“It’s locked. Let me get that for you,” Mark reached around her and unlocked the door.  He stepped out and looked around before holding the door open for her.

    
“Thanks for stopping by, Julie. I appreciate it,” Mark said to her as she got into her car.

    
“No problem. Will we be seeing you at 5:30? It is meatloaf night, don‘t turn me down!” She raised her eyebrows and gave him a sympathetic look.

    
“Julie, I already told you, I can’t-” he started to protest, but she stopped him.

    
“If you don’t come, I’ll understand. But the offer is still there.”

    
She pointed her finger at him, gave him a stern look and said, “Don‘t start holding your feelings in and alienating yourself from people who care about you, it isn‘t healthy. You know you can talk to me anytime, about anything, day or night. Besides, the last thing you want is to bottle it all up. You’ll only end up lashing out and hurting someone,” Julie said seriously.

    
He nodded and waved as she backed down the driveway leading to the back alley.

    
“If you only knew,” Mark said to himself. He walked to the end of the lane and watched her drive away.

 

 

 

 

                                   
CHAPTER 7

                     
       WELL-MADE TABLES

 

     “Hello, Mr. Anderson,” Williams sounded glad that Mark had called him back so quickly.

    
“Good evening Detective Williams. I got your text, saying we could speak in the morning, but I was wondering if we could talk now. Do you have a minute?” He asked.

    
Mark didn’t care too much for texting. Unless it was a quick message, he just preferred a regular phone call. He was “old school” is what Allie would say.

    
“Yes, of course,” Williams said. “Now is just fine.”

    
“Were you able to find out anything from the prison today?” Mark put his phone on speaker and sat it on the bathroom counter.

    
Wiping the steam off the mirror, he looked at himself for the first time since he’d lost her. He could almost hear her scolding him for taking too hot a shower.

    
“The steam isn’t good for the paint on the walls, Dad. Plus, the heat can dry your skin out too. At least crack a window!” She would say. What he wouldn’t give to hear her nagging him again.

    
“Are you still there, Mark, or did I lose you?” Williams asked.

    
“Yeah, Sorry, I’m still here. What do you got?” Mark refocused on the conversation.

    
“I got a name off of the visitors log for Mr. Vanzetti,” He stated proudly.

    
Taking his phone off speaker, Mark held it between his ear and shoulder. He walked to his dresser and picked up a pen.

    
“There’s just one name? Okay, what is it?” He found an old receipt lying on top, flipped it over and waited for Williams to begin.

    
“You know what, I‘m only about five minutes from your house. Would you prefer if I just stopped by? I thought you might want to take a look at the print out I have,” Williams asked.

    
“Yes, actually, that would be better,” Mark sounded surprised. “Five minutes then?”

    
“Yep, see you soon,” Williams concluded.

    
Mark hung up the phone and quickly finished dressing. He slid his gun holsters over his shoulders and secured it under his arms. Mark secured his loaded pistols inside and snapped it together across his chest, carefully concealing them under his leather jacket.

    
“Who’s been visiting you Leo? Who in this world would care about you?” Mark mumbled to himself as he walked down the hall and made his way down the stairs.

    
Talking out loud made him feel like someone else was there… like he wasn’t completely alone in that big empty house.

    
Mark suddenly remembered Julie and checked the time. It was after 6:00 p.m. Mark text Julie, saying, “Running late start without me,” she text him back with, “No dice,” he almost smiled on that one.

    
Hearing a car pull up outside, he walked over and stood next to the back door. The motion light by the back door came on. He carefully peeked out the side of the curtain to make sure it was Williams before he opened the door to greet him.

                            
        ~

    
“Nick, are you still on the phone with work?” Julie slowly opened the door to the dimly lit den and knocked on the door frame. “He’s been on the phone long enough,” she thought. “If it’s that important he should’ve stayed at work. He can be home for ten minutes, it‘s not going to kill him.”

    
She peeked inside and couldn’t see him at the desk. The sun was setting and there weren’t any lamps on. Suddenly, she heard his voice, out on the veranda that was connected to the den. She pushed the door open wider. Julie walked into the den, slowly making her way through the shadows, towards the open French doors. Suddenly, she heard his voice. He was outside on the porch leaning against the wood railing… whispering harshly into his phone.

    
“I have a very good reason to be freaking out! I don’t think you quite understand how hard this is for me! I’m supposed to be his friend for God’s sake! Now he’s asking questions and all kinds of shit,” Nick seemed frantic, almost scared. There was a long pause, but Julie continued to listen.

    
“I don’t know what he said to the damn detective!! AND… to top it all off, my stupid wife has invited him HERE… for dinner, tonight!” He was clutching his cell phone hard, and practically spitting on it.

    
Julie froze. Her body felt strangely heavy all of the sudden. Who was he talking to like that? And who is he calling stupid? She backed up into the wall and stood as still as she could. Her eyes squinted as she tried to focus harder on listening. 

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