Hero

27 Calvin

Tuesday afternoon can’t come soon enough. Obligations have kept me tied up in New Rhone when I have a pressing matter in Fenndale. I leave the office early to make the two-hour drive to the Andersons’ home. Since Sunday night, Cataline’s been dangerously on my mind. Her words, her scent, her touch all cloud my thoughts. I’ve both given and taken too much. What it will take to restore balance between us won’t be pleasant, but it must be done.

But before I can face her again, I must rectify the wrong done to her. My mistake, my failure to see that she wasn’t comfortable when I thought she was. Growing up poor before the accident, I knew her tendency toward frugality. I meant for her to have a choice, but that choice was never allowed her.

My fists curl hard around the steering wheel. In order to deflect questions, I’ve always been amiable and patient with the Andersons. If nothing else, I’ve stressed the importance of anonymity—Cataline was never to know of a third party. I realize now that they’ve used that against both of us. Cataline has made it clear that their role in her life is minimal at best, and knowing that, it’s tempting to make them pay for their greed. As I pull the car into the farm’s dirt driveway, Norman’s warning from earlier is fresh in my mind.

“Remember the code,” Norman says. “The punishment must fit the crime.”

“I know better than anyone. One exception will lead to another, and eventually, our system will fail.”

“Any kill must be warranted. Maintain control. I only feel compelled to remind you because this is a more personal matter than you normally deal with.”

“Personal, no,” I say. “It’s obligation, Norman. Lately, you seem to be confusing the two.”

I hear voices in the house before I even enter, which makes them easy to locate. When I stride through the kitchen doorway, Mrs. Anderson screams, raising her wooden spoon so spaghetti sauce flies across the cabinets.

Her husband jumps up from his spot at the dinner table. “What the fuck you doing, barging into my place like this?”

“We had a deal,” I say, slamming my fist on the wooden table. “What happened to the money?”

“I don’t know what you’re on about, Mr. Lawrence. Cataline’s got a check every month like we worked out.”

“And her savings?”

“Yup, she’s got that too. All, what was it, Lynne? Must’ve been twenty thousand or something close. She’s got it.”

“That so?” I ask. “I heard otherwise, Anderson.”

He picks something from his teeth as he studies me. Fear, something that I identify easily, is missing from his expression. His flannel is only half tucked, and I watch his eyes travel down my Armani suit. “Whatever you heard’s a lie, Mr. Lawrence. If it’s the girl telling you that, she’s a little liar. We raised her, we know. Something about growing up the way she did.”

If I were physically able to grow bigger, I would be right now. My muscles are tightening as adrenaline surges to all the dark corners of my body. “You’re saying she made it up?”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “You talk to her?”

“Like I said, I heard it from somewhere else.”

“Young girl called here last month, asking after Cat. Said she’s missing, but the police done think she ran away and won’t do nothing.”

“I don’t know anything about that. You’re my only contact with her, and she’s your responsibility.”

“Not no more, not apart from getting her that money.” He nods at his wife without removing his beady eyes from me. “Lynne and I been talking. Want to know what your interest is in the girl.”

“I’ve told you, I can’t disclose that.”

“Well, maybe we disclose it to Cataline, you don’t get the fuck out of our house. I don’t know what gets you off about giving some little brat money, but I don’t think I want a part of it anymore. Perverted, high-class asshole.”

His words hang in the silence for a moment. His wife’s slight, uneven breathing borders on whimpering. Before she can even scream, I have him by the throat slammed up against the wall. “You’re a piece-of-shit liar,” I say calmly as his fingers pry at my grip. “I want a check for every last dime I’ve given you. The money I paid you and the money you were supposed to give Cataline. Right now.”

“I don’t have it,” he pants. “I gave it to Cataline.”

My grip tightens, and he’s coughing, a rough, dying noise that is music to my ears. I turn my head to his wife. “Tell me the truth, or that’s the last sound he ever makes.”

“We didn’t give it to her,” she cries. “We don’t got it, though.”

I release her husband without a look and walk over to her. She cowers against the counter, crying and muttering nonsensically.

“What’d you do with it?”

“I don’t know. Nothing. Everything. We spent it on groceries, fixing the house, a new truck. I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry.”

“You’re worthless scum. Your only purpose on this planet was to give Cataline a safe, happy home and deliver my money to her. You failed on both accounts. Have that check in my hands by the end of the week, and maybe I’ll let you both live.”

“Is that—are you threatening us?” she asks. “You can’t kill me. I have children.”

“You think I give a fuck? I’d be doing them a favor. And if you run, I’ll find you. I’m always up for a good chase.”

The man’s voice comes from the floor, where he’s crumbled against the wall. “Who are you?”

“I’m someone with the money, the power, and now, the motive to hunt you down. Nobody can save you from me. Get me my money. Understand?”

I don’t wait for an answer before I leave, busting their front door off its hinges in the process. There are female cries nearby. I know they have daughters younger than Cataline, but I can’t muster any sympathy for them. Instead, I get in my car and start back for New Rhone, calming myself with the thought that they’ll spend the next few days in sheer terror.

“Gone?” Norman asks.

“All of it. I don’t think they ever intended to give her a dime. And the stipend I provided them every month she lived there, I’ve no idea. She probably never benefited from it. How could I have missed it?”

“You couldn’t be there all the time. You did what you could. They’re the ones in the wrong, not you.” He watches me pace the room a moment. “You did well to contain your rage.”

“You’re giving me too much credit. I want to kill them still. I’m not sure I can’t.”

“You can. You’ve come too far, learned too much control to let it slip. Think of what it makes you to kill a family.”

“They deserve it,” I say.

“Perhaps they do. But not for this. Find me more evidence of wrongdoings, and we can revisit.”

I know he’s right. And the fact that I want them to pay so severely means I’m in too deep. Spending a day with her was imprudent on my part. She won’t know why she’s being punished, but that won’t make it any less sweet for me. It’s my responsibility to return us to captor and captive. Anything else can only mean more danger for both of us.