Tell Me a Story – Part XI

Last week I left you with government agents at Kate’s door. We know George, her former boss, brought them there, but you all gave me all sorts of fun suggestions as to why. If you’ve been keeping up with the story but not the comments, I highly recommend going back and checking them out.

You all are very entertaining.

~~~~

I sat in the loveseat, Eli sitting by my side, the three government figures taking their places on the couch across from us. Travis, the man who introduced the group at the door, and the woman were each dressed in khakis and crisp polos, like a government sponsored Gap ad. The third figure was older, in a perfectly tailored suit, a leather portfolio in his hand.

“Thank you for having us in.  I know it would have been more convenient if we called ahead, but you can imagine how many people become unavailable when they hear we hear we want to stop by.”

I smiled, ignoring the butterflies threatening to burst through my stomach lining. Maybe that’s what Red’s painting was. I looked over at her in the corner, oblivious to the presence of our guests. “Do we need more privacy? My roommate is working over there, but once she gets her headphones on, she’s pretty much dead to the world.”

“As long as you are comfortable, it’s not a problem for us.” He nodded towards Eli. “Your boyfriend is welcome to stay as well.”

I felt like I should be objecting to the misunderstanding, but Eli’s choice of morning tea rather than coffee left me too tired for explanations. Eli wasn’t jumping up to correct the agent either, so I let it go.

The agent smiled as he sat forward, hands folded, elbows on his knees. He nodded to the two with him, who took out their badges and took turns leaning forward to show their credentials.

“I’m not actually DEA,” said the smartly dressed man as he flashed his badge, “I’m with the IRS.”

“I figured there was a reason for the suit. You had to either be IRS or concealing a weapon in your jacket. Not really sure which is scarier.” I let out an awkward laugh and watched the DEA agents stifle a grin as the IRS man looked down at his portfolio, expressionless.

“So Kate, my name is Amy,” the woman spoke, whipping out a pen and legal pad, “and I have just a few questions about your time working with Mr. Leeman.”

“Junior or Senior?”

“Junior.”

“What exactly was your job at the skating rink?”

“Well, I did all sorts of stuff  before George Sr. passed, but when his son took over, I basically just cleaned up, sharpened skates, helped out with rentals and concessions, that sort of thing.”

“What do you mean you did more before?”

“I used to handle inventory and help George with the financials.”

The IRS man leaned forward on the couch. “Did you have access to any financial information when his son took over? Checkbooks? Bank accounts?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t so much as open a bank statement.”

“That didn’t strike you as odd?”

“George Junior was always kind of Type A, you know?” I paused as the IRS man stared back at me and quickly added, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. But he liked to be in control, so it didn’t really surprise me when he took away some responsibilities.”

He sat back and nodded for Amy to continue.

“Did you ever observe anything out of the ordinary?”

“Well, there was this one thing recently.” I felt Eli shift in his seat next to me, but continued. “One night after I closed up the rink, a man was sitting in a car in the parking lot. I noticed the guy talking on a phone, but when I tried to get a better look he took off.””

“Can you describe the vehicle?”

I closed my eyes, my brows pulled together tightly as if that would somehow paint a clearer picture of that night. “I’m not sure. A dark colored, older model sedan. You know, the kind with boxier edges. That’s all I can remember.”

Amy pulled a small binder out from under the legal pad. “I know you probably didn’t get a great look at the man in the car, but would you look through these pictures and let us know if anyone looks familiar?”

“Sure.”

She set the binder in front of me and proceeded to flip each page, pausing on each one for a moment as she asked, “That one?”

I stopped at a picture of George Junior. “I recognize him, obviously.”

She smiled and continued turning the pages.

“Wait,” I said, putting my hand down on a page, “I’ve seen him before.”

“From the car?”

“No. The rink. He played a few pick-up games. I think his name was…oh, what was it, something girly like Cary or Ashley?” I looked up to see Amy and Travis smile, the IRS agent once again expressionless. I scrunched up my nose and added, “Please tell me that your name isn’t Ashley.”

“No.” The IRS agent smirked as he added, “It’s Cary.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Yeah, so am I.”

“So,” Amy continued, “do you remember seeing this guy talk to George?”

“Possibly.”

Amy and Travis exchanged a quick glance then flipped through the rest of the pages. I was relieved to find only unfamiliar faces.

“Well, I think that is all we have for you right now.” Amy took the binder back and placed it on top of her legal pad.

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.” I paused for a moment before asking, “What is it that George is suspected of doing? Or am I even allowed to ask that?”

Travis replied, “He’s part of a much bigger investigation. We think he may have been involved in drug trafficking, among other things, but he’s just one of the many dots we are trying to connect. And you were helpful.” The agents all stood up together. “Thank you so much for your time, Kate.”

The agents shook Eli’s hand, then mine. Rather than a business card, Travis handed me a torn edge from Amy’s legal pad with his name and phone number on it.

“If you think of anything else, please don’t hesitate to give me a call.”

“Of course.”

I walked them to the door, then stopped short. “Travis? Assuming that George isn’t on his own in whatever mess he’s involved in, are these people dangerous? Should I be concerned?”

He turned, as the other two agents paused in the hallway. “It is possible that he could be involved with some pretty unsavory characters. I wouldn’t worry too much, but just be cautious. If you are concerned about suspicious behavior, don’t hesitate to call.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Thanks again, Kate.”

I shut the door behind them, leaning against it and holding my hands on my stomach as I let out a big sigh.

“Okay, I think I need to go throw up now.”

Eli laughed. “Why?”

“Why? Contrary to how it might seem, I don’t usually have government agents showing up at my house questioning me, or scary masked men kidnapping me and shoving me in tree trunks.”

“When you say it like that, I guess it is a lot to take in.” Eli’s tone was more serious, but he was still grinning.

“Well, I am glad the endangerment of my well-being is so amusing to you.”

“Okay, okay,” Eli held his hands up, “I apologize. I was just attempting to lighten the mood.”

I sighed again and walked to the kitchen, Eli following. “It’s fine.”

“Why didn’t you mention being abducted to the agents?”

“I was nervous. Seemed like a lot of explaining I’d have to do, considering I didn’t call the police or go to the hospital. I feel like that might have made me seem like I was hiding something. Plus, I didn’t see their faces, so it’s not like I’d have anything helpful to say.”

Eli nodded. “You never told me someone was watching you in the parking lot. Was this recent?”

“Yeah. I guess I just didn’t think much of it at the time.” Or more truthfully, I was curious as to whether the stranger in the car had been Eli and didn’t want to bring it up.

“At least now we have a better idea of what ‘friend’ is putting you in danger.”

“You think so?”

“You don’t?”

I grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and tossed one to Eli. “I guess I didn’t really think about it being George. I mean, he definitely doesn’t come to mind when I hear the word ‘friend’.”

“True. But to an outsider it could seem otherwise, especially since you’ve worked for his father for years. They may have made an assumption that you were a closer connection to him than you are.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

Eli leaned against the counter, opening his bottle of water. “You don’t sound convinced.”

“No, it makes sense. It was just…unexpected? I’m still processing everything.”

“You have had a time of it the last few days.”

“I’ll be fine once I get some normalcy going again.”

“That sounds like a fine plan. Let’s start with dinner.”

I choked on an unsuccessful sip of water.

“Dinner?”

“Yes. I saw your research on some of the candidates, looks like we have one or two to work with thus far, so we should start scheduling some dinners.”

“Right. Dinner.”

“Which one did you like the look of? We can start there.”

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you that I know one of the candidates from the list.”

“Oh?”

“David Vinson.”

I let the name hang in the air without explanation, seeing if it elicited any reaction from Eli. The right corner of his mouth turned up slightly.

“Yes, I was wondering when that might come up. Meera’s fiancé, correct?” I nodded as he quickly added, “I made the connection on moving day.”

“Not before?”

The turned up corner turned into a smile. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pleased about the connection, but I honestly knew nothing of it beforehand.”

“Oh. Well, David is actually in town this week. We could schedule a dinner with him.”

“Perfect.”

“I should warn you, Meera mentioned that David’s been approached by headhunters before and hasn’t been terribly receptive.”

“Meera knows we’re looking at David?”

I felt the butterflies return to my stomach. “Uh, yeah. Sorry, was I not supposed to say anything?”

Eli sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ideally, no.”

The butterflies evolved into piranhas, happily gnawing away at my gut. The anxiety must have shown on my face, as Eli reached out and grabbed my arm, giving it a squeeze. “I wasn’t clear on that, Kate, so it’s my fault. In this case, it probably hasn’t hurt anything. So, no worries, okay?”

I gave a weak smile in response.

“Let’s get something set up then, shall we?”

I nodded, and headed over to the couch and laptop.

Looking up from the screen over at Eli, I smiled. “There is one big flaw about David you may not be aware of, Eli.”

“Oh?” He looked up from his laptop, eyebrow raised.

“He’s vegan.”

Eli grinned. “Well, we all have our faults.”

~~~~

Can you guess who you get to meet next week? That’s right. David! So, in the comments, give me three words you would use to describe David, or his behavior at/reaction to the dinner with Meera, Kate, and Eli.

I apologize for last week’s hiatus – an unpredictable toddler and celebrating my tenth wedding anniversary took me away for a bit. I should be doing another character interview next week, so long as life gets back on track.

In the meantime, see you in the comments!

Why It’s Worth a Watch – Common Law

This week on Why It’s Worth a Watch Wednesday, Tiffany and I are hanging out at the USA network. Well, not literally. But for how much love we show for their programming, they should be extending an invite. This week, Tiffany visits the already in progress Fairly Legal and I check out the brand new Common Law.

Common Law features two police detectives, Travis (Michael Ealy) and Wes (Warren Kole), who are great detectives who seem to be having some troubles in the partnering department. Their captain, not wishing to give up on their partnership, does what he thinks is best: sends them to couples counseling.

Not only are they in couples counseling, but they are in a group counseling situation, which makes for some fun amongst the romantically intertwined.

The partners are your typical Odd Couple. One is straight-laced, bordering on OCD (maybe even crossing the corder), while the other is a shoot from the hip ladies’ man.

Sound familiar? Of course. The “Odd Couple” formula has been played over and over and over (and did I mention, over?). Yet, these two are charming and neurotic enough to keep me from immediately changing the station. The great thing is that they work well together and obviously don’t hate each other. They just have a hard time getting along.

Coming from a big family, I know that feeling. You can love someone to death, yet want to smack them on a regular basis. So, the relationship here is one you can definitely relate to.

There are moments in the dialog and cases that are on the predictable side for me, yet I still found the show enjoyable. USA manages to do what it always does well – deliver characters.

Only time will tell how good the show can be. While the trite “Odd Couple” formula might be a formula for failure on other networks, USA seems to know how to deliver this idea in a way that keeps its viewers watching (think Gus and Shawn in Psych).

This won’t be entering my Top Ten list anytime soon, or even my favorite USA show, but it definitely deserves a spot in my JFTV viewing. We’ll see where it lands in my junk drawer as the series progresses.

Now head over to Tiffany’s blog and see what she thinks of Fairly Legal. Given USA’s track record, I’ll bet it is at least watchable.

Next week we revisit Smash and The Client List, to let you know what happened after we let them simmer for a bit.

A brief announcement: I’ve cancelled my cable service. I’ll be continuing the #watchwed series with Tiffany, but it may mean featuring more programming available on the web, which is great news for those of you who have already made the same jump I just did.

Remember to stop by the #watchwed hashtag in Twitter to discuss any of today’s reviews, or to mention any television programs that you’d like to see on Why It’s Worth a Watch Wednesday in the future.
A Recap of The WatchWed Review System:
GTV (Gourmet TV): Everything we want and more
MacTV (MacNCheese TV): Guilty pleasure. Not perfect, but is satisfies
GMacTV (Gourmet MacNCheese TV): A combination of fine wine and comfort food
JFTV (Junk food TV): It’s not great for us, but we’ll go back for seconds
TBPTV (Twice Baked Potato TV): Part gourmet and delicious, while absolutely horrible for our cholesterol
SSTV (Still Simmering TV): It has potential, but the jury is still out
NIV (Nyquil Induced Viewing): Perfect for that late night television sleep timer
LOTV (Liver&Onions TV): Do we really have to explain? Blech

Friday Inspiration – Making It Work

For as long as I can remember, I never felt like I completely fit in. I was never a total outcast, mind you. I even had popular friends. On occasion, I got invited to the “cool kid” parties. I had friends who were jocks, cheerleaders, academics, drama geeks, and honestly, even teachers.

But I rarely felt like I belonged.

When I was younger I wanted everyone to like me. EVERYONE. My parents, teachers, peers, complete strangers; it is entirely possible that I appeared to have multiple personalities at the time. You like hockey? Federov is the man! You find pop music detestable? Let me burn my Boyz II Men CD*.

It was an exhausting existence.

Not that it was all bad. I learned that I did in fact enjoy hockey. I exposed myself to new things I wouldn’t have otherwise and came to love them. Some things faded, like using lots of hair product and makeup, but others became parts of who I am.

Now, as an adult, there are very few people with whom I am truly at ease and completely myself. I say “as an adult”, as if adulthood changes things, but honestly people still behave very much like they did in high school. There are still cliques. There are still the people who think they are the “cool kids”. There are still people that make me feel like an outsider, no matter how much of an effort I make to be a friend.

The difference is I don’t try nearly as hard to be a person they want to accept.

Don’t get me wrong. I still try new things and try to be accommodating to others tastes and preferences as I get to know them. I’m a people pleaser and was raised to think of the needs of others. But I now know that street shouldn’t be one way. If I am the only one making an effort, than it may be best to move on.

Since I started writing (well, since I started writing publicly, not just in my own little cave) I’ve been able to enjoy meeting others who enjoy the things that I do, who “get” me. I’ve even met those who may be very different than me, but supportive and caring nonetheless. But I’ve also met the same cliquey folks who may as well still be in high school.

The good thing is that I don’t feel like I have to please the high school folk anymore.

This lesson is one that I try to apply specifically to my writing as I put more of myself out there. For a long time, I didn’t do anything more than write stories for myself (or the occasional email exchange with a coworker composed entirely of haiku). I’ve done a solid job of amusing myself, friends, and even a colleague or two (or more).

Every time I hit the publish button, every time I send another page of my novel to my writing partners, I get a knot in my stomach. Will they like it? Will I be accepted? Will I be one of the cool kids?

In the end, no matter how much my stomach knots, acceptance doesn’t matter. In the writing world there are still cliques. There are still people that befriend you that have no real interest in being your friend. There are people that will give their opinion who don’t actually care about you or your work. Somebody is going to roll their eyes and ignore my work.

But someone else will like it. And someone else will even love my work.

And that work is me. It’s not me trying to fit some image of what someone else thinks my writing should be.

Don’t get me wrong. Critique is fine. That’s why I have writing partners. They tell me when something absolutely doesn’t work. They tell me when something raises an eyebrow (not in a good way), and occasionally they tell me when I’ve made a choice they wouldn’t have made. But then they let it lie in my hands. I take everything they say to heart, but I make the decision in the end, not to please them, but to make the work better.

And to make the work who I am.

Amidst the endless (really, have you seen all the links on Twitter? Endless) advice on what you must and never do when you write, it can be easy to change our writing to fit what we think is expected of us. It is easy to force ourselves to fit in.

Some changes can benefit us. (Seriously, hockey is pretty awesome.) But if we change everything, our writing ceases to be our art. It just becomes a copy of everything else out there.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t want every book I read to be from the same author, even the ones I adore.

In the end, you have to learn to make it work. For your writing. For you.

*Burn, like with fire, not make a copy. Also, I did not destroy the sweet harmonies of Boyz II Men. To the end of the road, indeed.

~~~~

Here are a couple links I loved this week. Go. Read ‘em. Then Sunday, get your butt out of the house and watch the solar eclipse.

From Yuri Baranovsky, my hands down favorite post this week, 9 Problems of Being an Artist. If you only click one link in this post, make that the one. (And if you haven’t checked out Leap Year yet, go get familiar with Yuri’s work. Talent, he has it.)

Serial fiction has become a recent interest, one in which I delved with no actual research, so I found this post really interesting, and oddly encouraging: Why Your Serial Fiction Is Likely To Fail And What You Can Do About It

On the whole TIME magazine, breastfeeding/parenting debate/debacle hullabaloo, an amusing male perspective on breastfeeding: From Breasts to Boobs and Back Again

Summertime is “up ons” us. Here is my plan for looking good when it gets here. An oldie, but a goodie.

For your general amusement, have any of you been watching The Daly Show? (That is not a typo.) Check out this one, guest starring Nathan Fillion. And if you were a Wings fan, you must view this and this.

Annnnd…if you are going to heed my advice on checking out the eclipse, check out this article to find out where and when to see it. Sadly, being in Stinktown, USA (a.k.a. Florida) means I won’t get to see it, so I expect pictures, people.

Tell Me a Story – Part X

On Monday you all had to decide if Kate really suspects that Eli is somehow involved in her abduction, and how to answer his question, “Do you really think I’m involved?”

Once again, many of you seemed just as stuck as Kate. Not really sure trusting Eli is a good idea, but not wanting to suspect him. So, we will see how Kate handles it below.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I bit into a croissant, stalling for time. I didn’t want to think he could be involved in anything nefarious enough to merit my abduction, but it was possible. Coming to my rescue, while appreciated, only raised more questions in my mind. I took a quick glance around my plush surroundings while I finished my bite of croissant, formulating my response.

“Of course not, Eli. Sorry, I’m just still reeling from last night. Everything is a question mark for me right now.”

Whatever role he might be playing, his current one was that of protector. I didn’t want to change that by making him feel like a suspect rather than a savior.

“It’s wise to be on your guard after something like this.”

I nodded as I scratched my side, wincing.

“What’s wrong?”

“My side is a little bruised where they stuck me.”

I pulled up my shirt, exposing the fleshly part of my side a few inches above my hip. Two large purple marks spread from two tiny red dots. Eli leaned in closer, examining the bruises.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get checked out?”

“They look worse than they feel. I bruise if someone stares at me too hard. ”

He brought his hand to my chin and gently turned my face to one side. “And this one?”

“Oh yeah,” I touched the spot on my cheek Eli was looking at, remembering the series of red arcs across the top of my cheek. “One of the guys gave me a less than pleasant wake-up call when they pulled me from the trunk.”

Eli’s hand was still cradling my chin, a pained expression on his face. I pulled away, starting to feel uncomfortable. “So, what now? This place is nice and all, but I need to get back to normal life.”

“Okay. But I think we need to take a few precautions, at least for now.”

“Like, extra locks on the doors, no wandering the streets alone late at night?”

“Well, to start. I think it might be wise for you to keep the events of the last 24 hours between us. Until we have a clearer picture of who this friend is, no one needs to know what happened. Not even Meera.”

“She’s going to wonder about my call from last night.”

“Make something up. Anything. It’s for her protection as well. You don’t know who these people are, Kate. The fewer people involved, the safer everyone is.”

I hated the idea of keeping this from Meera, but I didn’t want her to end up stuffed in a tree trunk either. She didn’t have the right shoes for that sort of outing.

“Fine. I won’t talk to anyone about what happened.”

Eli stood up. “Good. I’ll take you back to your place, then. Tomorrow morning we can work from your apartment. I need to be sure you’re safe there. If not, I’ll make other arrangements. Did you need anything from here?”

I looked around the room, grabbed my phone, and thought about the expensive sweats as I stopped in front of the bedroom.

“Leave them,” Eli interrupted. “Might raise questions.”

Nodding obediently, I followed Eli to the door and headed to the elevator.

“Why are you doing all of this for me, Eli?”

The doors of the elevator opened and Eli paused to look at me before stepping inside. He sighed as the doors shut. “The short answer? You needed help, I like you and am in a position to help.”

“I’m gonna need the long answer.”

One corner of his mouth turned up in the slightest hint of a smile.

“When I was a kid, my favorite stories were the ones about brave knights swooping in and saving the day. The fight between good and evil. I guess deep down I always want to be that brave knight. When the opportunity arises, I can’t help but take it. Good enough?”

“So,” I tried to suppress a smile, “should I start calling you Prince Charming?”

Eli’s half grin grew. “Definitely not. He just ran about in fancy clothes trying to kiss a dead girl. I’m more of a slaying dragons type.”

“Well, good, because I am no Snow White.”

“No,” Eli laughed, “you most certainly are not.”

~~~~~~

I patted my face, watching the outline of fingertips on my cheek slowly fade beneath concealer and foundation. It had been half an hour since I started the process and it was finally looking natural. Well, as natural as one can look under so many layers of makeup.

Avoiding contact with anyone yesterday, and the questions that would have followed, had been easy enough. Red was happy to forget I even lived in the apartment, Meera had dinner plans with David, and Anton was satisfied with my explanation that my call had been accidental.

But I wasn’t sure what today would bring. I had to be prepared. I started to pull my long brown hair back into the usual ponytail, then stopped, deciding wearing it down might further distract from my painted over bruises.

“Kate!” Red yelled up the stairs. “Door!”

I ran down the stairs and saw Eli standing just inside the door, holding three coffee cups in a tray.

“Thank you for accommodating Kate and I today. My office is a bit of a wreck right now.”

Red looked down at the coffee cups, never cracking a smile. “I don’t drink coffee.”

“Oh, it’s tea. I have white, oolong, and rooibos. I wasn’t sure which you prefer.”

Red grabbed one of the cups, opened and sniffed at the warm liquid, still staring at Eli. She replaced the cover and took a sip. “Thank you. If you two can work quietly, I don’t see why we can’t all get along just fine today.”

Eli flashed a smile. “You won’t even notice we’re here. May I ask about the paintings?”

I looked in the direction Eli was at what I referred to as the ‘gallery of weird’. Each painting was different, each one odder than the next. Disfigured faces, mannequins missing body parts, with the occasional demented looking mouse thrown in.

I walked up and quietly took my cup of tea, looking up at the two of them towering over me, waiting to hear her answer

“Those are research.”

“Research?”

“Yes. They were painted by someone diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder.”

“Interesting images.” Eli walked over to the wall and pointed to one painting, an emotionless face with one eye missing and bloodied, the background a series of alternating black and white squares. “This one is fantastic. I’d love to hear more about them some time.”

Red cocked her head to one side, her face flashing the suggestion of a smile. “I would like that.”

She turned away and headed to her desk. I motioned towards the couch and Eli quickly walked over and took a seat.

“Impressive. I may have to call you ‘Charming’ after all.”

Eli shook his head a spoke just above a whisper. “No, I think this still falls in the category of dragon slaying.”

I let out a giggle, cutting it short as I heard Red clear her throat from the corner. I looked over and was relieved to see she already had her headphones on.

“Do you really like those paintings? They give me the chills.”

“I wouldn’t have them hanging in my apartment, but they are intriguing.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. The one with the butterflies is okay, I guess.”

“The butterflies that look like they’re melting? Now those are creepy.”

“Alright, enough about the Gallery of Weird, what’s on the agenda?”

Eli reached for his laptop bag, stopping at the sound of a knock at the door.

“Are you expecting someone?”

“No.”

It had only been seconds and the knock came again, this time with more force. I stood up, Eli jumping up in front of me, putting his hand up as he walked over to the door.

He peered through the peephole before opening the door a crack. “Can I help you?”

“Hi. We’re looking for Kate Stanton. Is she available?”

“Who’s asking?”

I was standing just behind the door and could hear movement along with the man’s reply. “We’re with the DEA. It’s important that we speak to her.”

Eli opened the door wider and I stepped into view. There were two men and a woman standing there, one of them holding out an official looking badge.

“What’s this about?” I asked.

“You’re not in any trouble, Ms. Stanton. We just need to ask you some questions about your previous employer, George Leeman. Can we come in?”

I looked at Eli as I answered. “Of course, come in.”

~~~~~~~

Alrighty, folks. What kind of madness is George (the skating rink owner/manager) up to that landed DEA agents on Kate’s doorstep?

Fire away in the comments below! And remember, I’m still taking votes on the next character interview…