I felt at a bit of a loss the next morning now that Sylvie was going back to her duties with the FBI. She had arranged for my stay to be extended by one more day and as one or other of the FBI or DOJ were picking up the bill. The only upside I could see was that I was under no pressure to check out by 11 am.
I packed my bag, fully intending to leave late that morning, but the weather wasn't very good. The remnants of a storm that was almost a hurricane but not quite, was blowing itself out over the DC/Baltimore area. From the window of my room, I could tell that the winds were worse than the rain, so I decided to wait another day. Oh! Such luxuries!
I did brave the weather and took the Hotel Shuttle to Reagan Airport and then the bus to Union Station. Almost immediately, I regretted not having my bag with me as showing on the departure board right in front of me was a train that would take me to Queenie. The large digital clock told me that it was leaving in five minutes at 09:59. So near yet so far, or well almost.
I hung around Union Station for almost an hour, trying to decide what to do. I had a coffee and a bagel in the hope that I could decide what to do. I failed miserably. This was not like me. Normally, I hated dithering and especially people who could not or would make a decision then here I was doing exactly that very thing. The only conclusion I could come up with was that being with Sylvie had affected me more than I was willing to admit even to myself. I did admit that I was missing being with her, but that alone was not going to solve my immediate problem.
After giving myself a mental thrashing for being such a wimp, I took the plunge and bought a ticket for the same train tomorrow. It was probably a good deal more expensive than the bus, but all I wanted to do was get out of town but on my terms and not on anyone else's. The latter had been the norm for so much of my life that for once, I wanted it to be my choice and not someone else's.
After picking up a sandwich at a nearby Deli, I headed back to the Hotel confident, that nothing was going to stop me from getting on with my life at least in the short term.
The saying ‘famous last words’ hit me smack in the face when I returned to the Hotel. There was a message waiting for me on the floor of my room. Someone had pushed it under the door probably after the maid service had been and cleaned the room.
My first thought was not to read it. Then I thought that it might be from Sylvie, but she had my cell number, so that was quickly dismissed as a possibilty. The same went for the people at the DOJ.
After more than an hour of prevarication, I read it.
The single sheet of paper that had been folded in two had the letterhead of a firm of lawyers from Portland, Oregon; Marks, Emerson and Hendricks. I'd never heard of them, but that didn't mean anything to me which was no surprise.
“Tiffany,
My firm is the executor of the last will and testament of the late Judge Francis, whom I understand that you met under less-than-ideal circumstances shortly before his untimely death."
‘Talk about understatements… Sheesh,’ I thought to myself.
I carried on reading.
"The judge made some changes to his will shortly before his death, and those changes affect you. If you could call me today, then perhaps, we could meet so that I could discuss those changes with you.
I am in the DC area until tomorrow morning. After that, I will be returning to Oregon. If you can't make it today, then my door will always be open to you should you return to the state.
Yours
Naomi Francis.”
I did a double-take when I read the name at the bottom. The judge had mentioned that he had a daughter who was a lawyer. Could this be a coincidence? I just didn't know.
Just when I saw a path forward with my life, and away from the swamp that is DC and now this. I wondered what I had to do to get free of the past?
I spent over an hour watching the planes landing at the airport from my bedroom window. I wasn't not really watching but was I staring into space. My mind was a blank, but it wasn't. I just couldn't decide if I should just take the train in the morning or should I see the lawyer and find out what the judge said about me.
I finally decided about the same time as the pangs of hunger started to get the better of me. I made the call before I changed my mind yet again.
“Hello? Ms Francis?”
“This is Tiffany. You left me a note about Judge Francis.”
"Yes, I am at the Hotel at the moment."
"I think I can find it. When would you like to meet?"
“Ok. I’ll see you there.”
I hung up and immediately started having second thoughts.
“Fuck it! I’ve done enough running for one lifetime!" I said angrily, but of course, there was no one listening.
[two hours later in the Hotel Café]
I stood outside for several seconds. People call it dithering, but the door in front of me was the point of no return. Two more steps, and I was committed to the meeting. I saw a woman sitting at a table wearing a dark red leather jacket just as she’d said on the phone. I scanned the room once more just to be sure. There was no one else with a similar jacket, so she must be the one. The woman was sitting with her back to me which was unfortunate. If she was the daughter of the Judge, would there be a family resemblance?
Then I mentally admonished myself once more for being silly, if not downright stupid. I had to ask myself if I had fallen into the ‘Reds under every bed’ syndrome. The only answer I could come up with was a resounding yes.
"This will never do," I said under my breath, and pushed open the door and entered the room. A server came toward me.
“How are you doing today? Can I seat you?”
"No thanks. I'm meeting someone, and they are already here."
I shut her out of my mind as I headed toward Naomi. I hated this whole 'wait to be served' thing, especially when the place was almost empty. I can find a table by myself thank you, as clearly I'm not an imbecile. Just something else that I'd have to get used to if… if I became a normal citizen rather than an invisible nobody. That is the big if that the three dozen little demons, who sit on my shoulder are salivating over.
“Naomi, hello,” I said when I reached the table.
“Tiffany. I’m so pleased to meet you at last.”
Internally, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. She looked a lot like her father.
I sat down and made myself comfortable.
“You look a lot like your father,” I said trying to be friendly.
“Thanks.”
I took a deep breath. It was now or never.
“Naomi, I'm so sorry for getting your father killed. I am of the opinion that some parts of my family should never have been born.”
“Tiffany, it wasn’t your fault.”
“But it was. I should not have gone to the cabin with him. He even offered me a way out and I didn’t take it. I will regret that for the rest of my life.”
She smiled.
“When my father called me after leaving you, he described you as a breath of fresh air that had breezed into his life. Some things that he’d repressed for years had to be resolved. That’s why he dictated a new will and much more to me while he was driving home. I transcribed the will and went to meet him. We met at an all-night diner about halfway between his home and Portland. He signed the new will and a couple of truckers witnessed it. He even joked about giving them a pass should they appear in his court on a traffic ticket.”
Just then the server came to collect my order.
“Americano and a club sandwich, please," I said trying to appear all adult and sophisticated.
Naomi smiled at me. I hadn’t fooled her for a moment.
"I'd not seen him as alive as that since well before my mom died. You did something to him that seemed to put the spark back in him.”
“I didn’t do anything. He did it all,” I complained.
She laughed.
“That’s what he said that you would say. Don’t put yourself down.”
“I don’t understand. Why aren’t you mad at me for getting him killed?”
“What he told me on the phone about you and the impact that you had was as clear as daylight when I met him. As well as the new will, he made a video deposition right there in the diner about everything related to your father. I promised to forward that to the FBI. It was his way of making peace with himself. He had never forgiven himself for allowing himself to be used by your father all those years ago. Something in him snapped when you appeared in his court. He might be dead, but he knew that he was playing a small part in righting a wrong that happened years ago."
"That's nice to know," I replied, feeling not altogether happy with the situation.
Once my food had been delivered, Naomi continued.
“As I said, dad dictated a new will to me after he’d left you at the cabin.”
“I don’t want it whatever it is. You are his only child and I don’t deserve even one penny from his estate. Your father took a huge risk when he helped me and that resulted in him losing his life. There has never been a day since I found out about his death that I haven’t thought about him and regretted letting him leave me at the cabin.’
Naomi shook her head.
“You have a wise head on your shoulders and to think that you are just eighteen…”
I was about to reply when she put up her hand to stop me.
“My father left you the cabin and the insurance money from the arson attack.”
"That's yours, I don't want it,” I replied, without even needing to think twice.
Naomi smiled.
“He was very clear about how he wanted you to have it because of how the place affected you."
I tried not to react but failed miserably.
“Please take it.”
“What about you?”
"Dad left me more money, than I will ever need when I sell his home. The reason I’m here in DC apart from meeting you is to have a confirmation interview for a new job with the Diplomatic Service. That happened yesterday. I was informed late this morning, that I have got the position. In three or four months from now, depending upon how my training goes, I will be off abroad on my first posting.”
“I thought that your father had already put your name on the title to his home?”
"He did, but I only accepted it until he went off on his mid-life camper trip. That won't happen, and the political climate in that town is not for me. I'm far too progressive for them. It was an easy decision to sell it and possibly my house just outside Portland. Then I’ll invest the money for when I come back home. As I’m going abroad, I won’t be in a position to do anything with the cabin, but Dad wanted you to have a place that you could call home. How about it, Tiffany? Dad had faith in you… Isn’t it time to stop running? You could create something of your own for once in your life.”
She had me bang to rights.
Now that someone was offering me a place to call home, I was just not ready to accept it straight off.
“To be honest Naomi, I’m going to need some time to think about this. It is all a bit of a shock.”
"That's only to be expected. Take your time. Winter is just around the corner, which means that you couldn't do anything until the spring at the earliest other than clear the site.”
“But… you are going away?”
"I am, but my old firm will be handling my legal affairs while I am away. They will have my power of attorney, and if you have not decided before I leave, they will know what to do when you do.”
She reached down to her side, and produced a large white envelope. She pushed it across the table to me.
"This contains all the information you need. The only downside is that you will have to get to Portland in person to sign all the documents, so that they can be notarized in the state. I don't know if you remember it, but dad took your photo when you were chopping some wood. He gave the digital file to me when we met to sign his new will. That will be all you need to prove your identity. He put a specific clause in his will about this knowing that official documentation might prove difficult for you to obtain. He did it because he knows how particular, if not downright miserly lawyers are when it comes to dishing out other peoples’ money.”
I sighed.
"The more I hear about him, the more I like him. Your father was very much one of the good guys. I’m afraid that there aren’t many like him around these days. Everyone seems to be out to make a quick buck, and they don't care how they do it, and how many others that they crush in the process.”
“That is a very strong opinion, but from what dad told me, I can understand it very well, and it is also so very true. I see it all the time in my legal work.”
Naomi took her leave a few minutes later. I was just finishing my food when a man slid into the seat that had just been vacated by Naomi.
"Hey, Darlin' want to give this Texan a good time?"
His words took me by surprise. I averted my gaze from him.
"Didn't you hear what I said Darlin? Five hundred for the night good enough for y'all?"
“I heard you perfectly well the first time. No matter what you offer me, the answer will still be no!”
“Come on Darlin! I can give you a great time. One that will relieve all that stress I can see in your neck!”
“The answer is still no. Why don’t you just go fuck yourself?”
“Ok, a grand? How about it then?”
"Are you sure about this? You really don't want to go to jail for soliciting a minor now, do you?"
I stood up, and poured what was left of my water over his crotch and left him sitting there, big hat, sunglasses and all.
I headed to the main desk and reported the man to the security people, but he'd gone by the time they went to the restaurant to investigate. His image had been captured on the CCTV in the Lobby. The duty manager promised me, that he would never get service at the Hotel again.
For once, I felt like someone was taking me seriously but not for the first time since mom died, I’d escaped by the skin of my teeth. I’d seen what happened when people like me were exposed by dipshits like him. The end result was never a good one.
I headed off to my room to do some thinking, with part of me wishing that I'd punched him right in the mouth or stabbed the back of his hand with my fork instead of just dousing his dick in water.
There were so many scenarios rushing around in my brain that it was well after midnight before I dropped off only to be woken by the alarm at 08:00. For a moment, I panicked. I’d forgotten where I was for several seconds. That had never happened to me before.
I sank back on the bed and relaxed for all of ten seconds. Then the time hit me. I had a train to catch before 10 am.
At two minutes past nine, I handed over the room keys and left the hotel. Applying makeup in a hurry was not my strong point despite the best efforts of Amy and Sylvie. I’d had to do it all over again to get something even half presentable. This woman thing is not as easy as many women make it seem.
Because of the late hour, I decided to splash out and take a cab to the train station. That was a first for me, and probably the last if the large sum shown on the meter was anything to go by, but I did have a train to catch.
The taxi dropped me off at Union Station in good time. I picked up a sandwich and a coffee to consume on the train. It was a poor substitute for breakfast but it would have to do.
Saying goodbye to DC gave me some mixed feelings. Good because I hoped that I never had to come back. Splashing through Dismal Swamp in the rain was more enjoyable than the vibe I was getting from this city.
I would have liked to have spent a week or so in the Library of Congress. There was so much data in those hallowed halls that interested me. Another time perhaps? Nah. There is a whole world out there that needs to be investigated.
Soon after the train passed into Virginia, I sent a text to Queenie, in the hope that she could meet me in a couple of hours.
The reply came within a minute.
“What kept you?”
The Amtrak train was pulling away from the station before I saw Queenie drive into the parking lot. She was driving the F-100. In the autumn sun, it gleamed. Someone had been working hard detailing it. I wondered if there was a car show at the weekend? I knew that she loved beating all those male petrolheads at their own game. I knew from first-hand experience that it packed a hefty punch and would do a great time on the drag strip.
“There you are… looking quite the sophisticated young lady!” said Queenie when we embraced.
I felt myself go red in the face.
“There is nothing to be ashamed of Tiff. You are just gorgeous. I wish I was two hundred pounds lighter.”
That was an old joke of hers. No matter what she did in the way of diets would those pounds just would not shift.
"Thanks for coming to pick me up, Queenie. I needed to get out of DC."
“It took you long enough… I heard that you testified ages ago.”
“I did, and I've been in Maine for a bit."
Queenie raised an eyebrow.
“Is there something I should know?”
"I don't know, and that's the honest truth."
She gave me a look that broadcast loud and clear... 'I'm gonna get to the bottom of this before you go!’ loud and clear.
Queenie’s home was a welcome change from the blandness of the Hotel in DC, but something was different this time. I guessed that 'something' was down to the jailing of my father, and the question of what I was going to do with my life now that he was out of the picture.
The skirting of the issue that we’d both been doing came to a head that evening.
Queenie cleared away the dinner things after refusing my effort to help. I knew from previous experience that this was her way of telling me that she wanted to talk.
With the table clear of distractions, she sat down and folded her arms.
"Now my girl, what are you going to do with your life? Your Pa won't see the outside of jail until he comes out in a pine box, and that dipshit son of his is going to be a very old man by the time he finishes his sentence… So… what is it going to be eh?”
I managed a small smile.
“I don’t know. I have many things to consider."
“Don’t give me that bullshit. I thought that you knew me better than that?”
“It is true. I have come into some land and a bit of money. It’s not from his dealings so it is 100% clean.”
"Good to hear that, but who is this sugar-daddy then?"
"He was a judge who went to law school with 'him' and well, I ended up in his court on a vagrancy charge. He saw through the scam that the local PD was running and helped me out. He got me out of town, and out of the state. Then we went to his cabin in the hills.”
“Where he did what to you? No one in their right mind gives a homeless nobody a parcel of land let alone any money?”
“It is true. Back in the day when he was a Public Defender, he had been tricked by my father into giving him an alibi for when a crime was committed. That and losing a woman he loved to my murderous father, I presented him an opportunity to get even.”
“Why am I thinking that this is a load of bull?”
I shook my head.
"It isn't a load of bull, as you put it. My dear half-brother ran him off the road a few days after he’d left me at his cabin. Then they came after me locked and loaded. The local cops got a tip-off about them, and he was arrested with a small arsenal of illegal guns, and even some live grenades. I escaped thanks to a fire hole in the cabin."
Queenie looked me right in the eye.
“You aren’t kidding, are you?”
“I’m so sorry Queenie. Firstly, for not telling you about this before, but so far this year I’ve been shot at, burned out and hunted over half this country by my father and his criminal associates. The DOJ had already started a federal investigation into him and his crimes. The evidence that you, and another friend looked after was crucial in getting him to plead out."
“There was more than money in those packages then?”
I nodded my head.
“Thanks to mom, we collected all sorts of evidence,that proved how much of a crook that he was. There was a video that caused quite a stir in the Grand Jury. The ADA later told me that it took them longer for his team to write the text of the indictment than it did for the jury to consider and approve it.”
Queenie cursed under her breath.
“Where has my little baby girl gone?”
Then she burst out laughing.
When things had calmed down again,
“Ok my girl, if even half of what you said is true then you have been to hell and back. I see now that you have grown up far too fast.”
“And you are about to say that I need to slow down before it all catches up on you.”
"That's what I am trying to do. I have to decide what I'm going to do, and who with."
Queenie grinned from ear to ear.
“That’s more like it. Who is he and… everything?”
I shook my head.
“It is a she and she is the FBI agent that came with me before. We both have feelings for each other. This is all a bit strange for me.”
"And? Please don't tell me that she's married?"
I shook my head.
“She was here with me last time I came visiting. Remember Sylvie? You saw that she’s quite a bit older than me. She is also a former Marine who saw action in Afghanistan where she was nearly killed by an IED.”
“A woman of the world then?”
My face gave me away.
“How much older exactly is she?”
“Eleven years.”
“Girl, now I know you’s is mad!”
[to be continued]
Comments
Another superb chapter
Less action. But the underlying thrum of unease and tension that you manage to convey so well runs constantly through the narrative, so the reader remains on edge all the way.
What next for Tiffany? It’s not just major life decisions, but resolution of a lot of unfinished business. And while her father and brother may be locked away, their twisted desire for revenge is still there, and they’re bound to have the financial resources hidden away somewhere to mount one last attack on our girl.
This is a riveting tale, Sam, a real highlight of my Friday. Many thanks.
☠️
Thanks for your comments on this tale
they are much appreciated.
Sadly, there are only two more parts to go before it is complete.
Samantha
The Texan
Can't help wondering if there will be more from him, and not in a good way. I suppose he might just be a random isolated incident, but...
Good story, again. Thank you
Alison
Suspicion
The judge's daughter would be enough to make Tiffany wonder if the offer was on the level, but she had enough cred to calm Tiff's fears. The Texan was too much, sliding into the vacated seat when it was still warm and tempting her with unrequited offers within seconds. That alone makes me think that the forces of evil are still active.
I hope Queenie survives without too much damage.
Still a nailbiter, Samantha.
Alone with a Friend
Tiffany is alone now. She may be with Queenie but she is still alone the same way she has been since she lost her mother. She managed so far because staying alive kept her mind from focusing too much on what she had lost and then the need for revenge when her mother was murdered.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d5ab8BOu4LE
Sylvia might be the answer? Would age matter if Sylvia was a male instead of female? Older men marry younger women most of the time. There have been news worthy articles where older women marry younger men but then that is why they are newsworthy. Hoping Tiffany finds a safety port in the storm of life she has experienced so far. Who better to be that safety than an ex marine and field officer who has experienced just as much as Tiffany but looking at it from the other side of life? A shared experience of being so close to the Grim Reaper?
Hugs Sam, a beautiful story.
Barb
Shaking hands with Death will change a person no matter how strong they think they are or how much they think they are prepared to go Home. Matthew 26:39
Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl
“Girl, now I know you’s is mad!”
giggles
She might be crazy
But I would say she has earned the right. I keep waiting for her father's long hand to reach out to try again.
Tiff...
Has earned some good - beyond her years she's lived and the judge coming back to lift her up, I hope she takes it... I hope Sylvie is also in the mix somewhere. BUT - I keep waiting for the toilet to back-up and turn her back to that runner. I hope I'm wrong. Keep this story going... It's enjoyable and hard not to like Tiffany, et others who have been there for her!
XOXOXO
Rachel M. Moore...