sorry. We'll know more once I can I-D these guys. I'll look into speaking with someone about those symbols in the meantime. For now, just stay together as much as possible.”
“Can we go now?” Mandy asked, still unsatisfied.
“Yes. You'll be escorted home by a pair of cruisers.”
“I have to get some things first,” Maggie said to the sisters. “I'll meet you downstairs.”
Russell roused Xavier from the hallway, explained the situation. He led the sisters out while Russell remained behind for Maggie.
“We're all just scared, Detective,” she admitted, rummaging through her closet for a gray backpack.
She carried it to her dresser, filled it with clothing. He side-stepped to allow her through and evaluated her slow movements.
“It's Russell, and I understand. You have a right to be.”
“Yeah, someone wanted me dead. I'd say that qualifies as rational fear,” she said sarcastically. She huffed, apologized, “This is all so… wrong, but I'm more worried for them.”
He watched her stoop to open a drawer, “How do you mean?”
She stopped with a look, her teeth clenching in small bites near her lip-ring, “I've been on my own for a long time. Usually, I've only got myself to worry about, but Mandy and Ashley aren't as strong in that way. They worry about each other, and even though I've got them, I'm still… alone. You know?”
“Yeah, I get that. It's easier to survive when you can be selfish.”
“Right.”
Russell mused with sympathy, “It doesn't mean you can't find strength in numbers though.”
Maggie removed a large manila envelope from her bottom drawer, checked it. She removed a thick stack of twenties and folded it over before shoving it into a front pocket on the bag. She exhaled the breath, stepped back to the closet to grab a thick, gray, baggy coat. She slid it on and sat beside Russell on the bed, eyeing the pistol.
“So this is what my life's come to?”
She reached for the pistol with obvious apprehension. It took residence beneath fear of the deathly instrument's implication. A question drew her mind and eyes away for moment.
“If you don't mind,” Russell began. Their eyes met. “Why call me?”
Maggie shrugged with a look to the floor, “I don't know. Ash said to. She's convinced this isn't a coincidence—you showing up then all of this. I guess part of me agrees.”
“You were… combative, this afternoon,” Russell reminded.
“And you were pretentious and assumptive, but if there's going to be a bunch of cops here I'd rather one of them be someone I know.” He understood with a nod. She looked back to the pistol, “The truth is, I feel safer knowing you're looking after me. Anyone that can admit they're wrong's okay in my book.”
“I guess I'd have ended up here either way,” Russell thought aloud. “I'd rather help than not.”
Maggie lifted the pistol, slid it in to her pack and zipped it closed to shoulder it. She rose from the bed, “Maybe it was just intuition, but I trust you. I hope it's not misplaced.”
Russell rose with her, unsure whether her assessment was a compliment or a criticism.
7.
Evidence to the Contrary
September 30 th
8:30 AM
1200 S. Masseville, Ohio
Maggie awoke to morning light shining in through Ashley's bay-windows. The drafty, ranch-style home took a moment to focus around her. She stared out the window in confusion before the night returned. Overwhelmed, her eyes fixed on farmland beyond a gravel road ahead.
The sun arced through a cloudless sky beyond pines buffering Ashley's property. They swayed in heady winds, framed two police cruisers at either side of the gravel driveway. The cars looked oddly serene amid the manicured lawn and harvested fields.
Maggie eased off the wrap-around couch to the crackle of frying bacon. Its aroma wafted over, passed Ashley as she shuffled to an fro at the gas stove. The quaint kitchen fit the serenity outside, but staggered Maggie's horrified mind.
She rubbed her
“Can we go now?” Mandy asked, still unsatisfied.
“Yes. You'll be escorted home by a pair of cruisers.”
“I have to get some things first,” Maggie said to the sisters. “I'll meet you downstairs.”
Russell roused Xavier from the hallway, explained the situation. He led the sisters out while Russell remained behind for Maggie.
“We're all just scared, Detective,” she admitted, rummaging through her closet for a gray backpack.
She carried it to her dresser, filled it with clothing. He side-stepped to allow her through and evaluated her slow movements.
“It's Russell, and I understand. You have a right to be.”
“Yeah, someone wanted me dead. I'd say that qualifies as rational fear,” she said sarcastically. She huffed, apologized, “This is all so… wrong, but I'm more worried for them.”
He watched her stoop to open a drawer, “How do you mean?”
She stopped with a look, her teeth clenching in small bites near her lip-ring, “I've been on my own for a long time. Usually, I've only got myself to worry about, but Mandy and Ashley aren't as strong in that way. They worry about each other, and even though I've got them, I'm still… alone. You know?”
“Yeah, I get that. It's easier to survive when you can be selfish.”
“Right.”
Russell mused with sympathy, “It doesn't mean you can't find strength in numbers though.”
Maggie removed a large manila envelope from her bottom drawer, checked it. She removed a thick stack of twenties and folded it over before shoving it into a front pocket on the bag. She exhaled the breath, stepped back to the closet to grab a thick, gray, baggy coat. She slid it on and sat beside Russell on the bed, eyeing the pistol.
“So this is what my life's come to?”
She reached for the pistol with obvious apprehension. It took residence beneath fear of the deathly instrument's implication. A question drew her mind and eyes away for moment.
“If you don't mind,” Russell began. Their eyes met. “Why call me?”
Maggie shrugged with a look to the floor, “I don't know. Ash said to. She's convinced this isn't a coincidence—you showing up then all of this. I guess part of me agrees.”
“You were… combative, this afternoon,” Russell reminded.
“And you were pretentious and assumptive, but if there's going to be a bunch of cops here I'd rather one of them be someone I know.” He understood with a nod. She looked back to the pistol, “The truth is, I feel safer knowing you're looking after me. Anyone that can admit they're wrong's okay in my book.”
“I guess I'd have ended up here either way,” Russell thought aloud. “I'd rather help than not.”
Maggie lifted the pistol, slid it in to her pack and zipped it closed to shoulder it. She rose from the bed, “Maybe it was just intuition, but I trust you. I hope it's not misplaced.”
Russell rose with her, unsure whether her assessment was a compliment or a criticism.
7.
Evidence to the Contrary
September 30 th
8:30 AM
1200 S. Masseville, Ohio
Maggie awoke to morning light shining in through Ashley's bay-windows. The drafty, ranch-style home took a moment to focus around her. She stared out the window in confusion before the night returned. Overwhelmed, her eyes fixed on farmland beyond a gravel road ahead.
The sun arced through a cloudless sky beyond pines buffering Ashley's property. They swayed in heady winds, framed two police cruisers at either side of the gravel driveway. The cars looked oddly serene amid the manicured lawn and harvested fields.
Maggie eased off the wrap-around couch to the crackle of frying bacon. Its aroma wafted over, passed Ashley as she shuffled to an fro at the gas stove. The quaint kitchen fit the serenity outside, but staggered Maggie's horrified mind.
She rubbed her
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