Stalking The Phoenix Part 3

And I was d.a.m.ned if I knew what I was going to do about it.

Strike that. I knew only too well what I had to do about it. Nothing, 'nada, nihil'. There was nothing that I could do, except try to make sure that she was safe, safe and safely handed over to my best friend, Geoff.

But, there was something very strange about the way that she had spoken of Geoff. Thinking back on it, I realized that I had never seen either of them be more demonstrative of affection to one another than holding hands. Did Al love Geoff? I wondered. I had never even seen them kiss one another.

"It's none of your business, Philip," I muttered to myself.

The h.e.l.l it isn't, I mentally countered. If she doesn't love him, she shouldn't marry him. A marriage without love would just make both of them miserable. I couldn't sit still and watch my oldest friend make a mistake like that, could I? But, I knew that was precisely what I had to do. To take any other course of action would put a ma.s.sive strain on the long-standing friends.h.i.+p between Geoff and myself. But, what kind of a friend would I be if I didn't do something about this? On the other hand, what sort of friend would I be if I did do something about it?

I leaned back in my easy chair wondering if I had thoroughly lost my mind. Decisively, I picked up the phone and punched in Geoff's office number. The answering machine picked up.

"Geoff, if you are there, pick up. It's important."

"Phil?"

"Yeah, buddy. Listen, Alicia needs you."

"What's wrong? Has something happened to her?"

"She came to see me today, Geoff."

Geoff laughed. "That's a good one, old buddy. 'Licia wouldn't set foot in a police station, willingly."

"I'm serious."

"Is she okay?" Geoff asked with a panicked tone in his voice.

"Physically, yes. But, she's pretty shaken."

"Was she in an accident?"

Without a lot of wasted words, I told Geoff about the visit. Geoff was silent until I reached the end of my tale. "Thanks for calling, Phil." Geoff's voice sounded weary.

"Look, it's none of my business..."

"Usually, when someone says those words, they shouldn't say the words which follow," he advised.

"I know. And I wouldn't be saying this at all, if I weren't concerned about both of you. What kind of a marriage are you going to have, if she won't even lean on you during a time like this?"

"She's not used to having anyone to lean on, Phil. It's hard for her. She's never had anyone to lean on: well, not for years anyway. It's d.a.m.n difficult for her to ask for anything, especially anyone's support. But, she's learning. Some things just take time. But, she's worth all the frustrations. Lord, Phil, I hurt for her every time that I think about all the bad breaks that she's had in her life. But, all that pain has made her strong, Phil. She's the strongest woman whom I know."

"Even the strongest things can break if the heat and pressure get too high, Geoff."

"Never. 'Licia is too flexible to break. She bends when she must."

"I hope that you are right, Geoff. She was awfully shaken earlier today. And she sounded absolutely panicked a few minutes ago when I spoke to her."

"Look, Phil, thanks for calling. I'm going over to 'Licia's place right now."

"That would be for the best."

"Yeah. Talk with you later," Geoff agreed.

"Our usual handball game tomorrow?" I asked.

"Of course, loser pays the fees."

"Bring your wallet."

Geoff laughed as he hung up.

I knew that I had done the right thing in talking with Geoff. But why did I feel as though I had just betrayed Al?

*Chapter 7*

'Alicia'

I answered the imperious summons of the doorbell. My small Walther PPK was in the patch pocket of my old, rather ratty, chenille robe. A round was in the chamber and the safety was on. I checked the peephole and sighed in relief.

Geoff Samson stood there, in the doorway, looking for all the world like a blonde G.o.d straight from Mt. Olympus. Tall, slender, blue-eyed, platinum blonde hair cut with an almost military precision; this was what anyone saw when they looked at Geoff.

Most people loved Geoff. He was an easy person of whom to grow fond. Warm, open, with an easygoing manner (except when he was in the courtroom -- where he turned absolutely ruthless in pursuit of his goals); this was how Geoff impressed people. He was a busy, mature, professional man with a good income and terrific prospects. Active in politics, Geoff had been asked to consider a run for the U.S. Senate. But, he had refused the offer saying that he was happy practicing law and dabbling in real estate. He was good with children. In short, he was everything I had decided that I wanted in a husband.

Why did I now, so close to the wedding, remember the old saw about being careful what you want because you just might get it? Immediately, I dismissed that thought as both disloyal and unrealistic.

I was pus.h.i.+ng forty. Surely, I didn't expect to be swept off my feet. Surely, the sort of rational arrangement I had with Geoff was for the best. Or, at least, that was what my mind tried telling me.

Geoff is a good man, I thought. And he'll be a good father. I can't really ask for more than that.

I placed the weapon in the drawer of the table nearest the door. Then I opened the door.

"'Licia?"

"Come in, Geoff. How do you always know when I need you?"

Geoff smiled at me as he entered my small house and closed the door behind him. "Possibly because I love you. You want to tell me about it?"

"No," I answered in more of a sob than anything else. "Hold me?"

Geoff nodded as he opened his arms. "Come here, baby."

"Oh, Geoff, I'm frightened," I admitted as I went into his strong embrace.

"I know, 'Licia. I know. Come on, sweetheart, let's just sit and let me hold you. You don't have to talk about it, unless you want to."

It was a long time until either of us said anything. Finally, I sighed, then said in a voice little stronger than a whisper, "I don't deserve you, Geoff. You are so good to me."

"I think that you've got that backwards, sweetheart. Now why don't you tell me about what's got you so rattled?"

*Chapter 8*

'Alicia'

"Alicia," Mae Thompson, the secretary for Math and Sciences, said as I returned to the offices from teaching my last cla.s.s of the day, "this package just arrived for you. Flowers. I wish that some handsome man would send me flowers."

Mae looked expectantly at me over the top of her wire rimmed half gla.s.ses as she pushed an errant shoulder length strand of her salt and pepper hair behind her ear.

Mae's desk always looked like an a.n.a.l retentive's vision of h.e.l.l. Bulging manila folders were stacked, seemingly without thought of order, two foot high. There was a standing joke in the department that you couldn't tell whether Mae was at her desk or not from the doorway. That was a bit of an overstatement. Mae was short, but she wasn't -- quite -- that short.

"Thanks, Mae." I began to open the long florist's box.

"Did you and Geoff have a tiff?"

I laughed while I continued opening the box. "Geoff and I don't fight. I don't think that we've ever fought. One of the things that I like so much about him is that he is so reasonable. Where reasonable is defined, of course, as thinking the way that I do."

Mae shook her head and smiled indulgently. "Oh, Al..."

Wilted red roses filled the box. Laying on top of the flowers was a single sheet of cheap erasable bond paper folded in half. With shaking fingers, I reached for the note. Unfolding it, I read the words formed by cut out newsprint glued onto the paper: "Roses are red, Violets are blue, these flowers are dead, soon you will be, too."

I dropped the note onto the flowers as though it had scorched my fingers. I felt faint, lightheaded, as though I would be nauseous.

"Dead flowers?" Then the secretary's voice became angry, "Who would send you dead flowers? This is outrageous." She reached for the note I had dropped in the box.

"Don't touch that. Call Phil Mallory at the police station. Tell him what's happened. Ask him to send someone. I'll be in my office. But, I don't want to be disturbed until the police get here. Understand? I'm taking these into my office with me."

"Yes. Alicia, are you well?"

"Just call Phil, will you?"

"'Licia?" Geoff asked in concern from the doorway of my office a few minutes later.

"Geoff, come on in."

"Honey, what is it?"

"Why are you here?" I demanded.

"Did you forget, we are supposed to be over to the rectory in just under an hour?"

"On the twenty-second."

"Honey, today is Wednesday, the twenty-second."

I looked at my calendar. "Sorry. I just wasn't thinking."

Geoff smiled at me in puzzlement. "Are you okay?"

"No. I don't think that I am. On second thought, I'm sure that I'm not."

Geoff looked over to the desk. He saw box containing the wilted roses. I watched him blanch. "Honey?"

"Oh, Geoff..."

It was twenty minutes later before Phil Mallory came to my office. "How are you holding up?" "Honestly?"

"Honestly."

Phil looked at Geoff who was standing just behind me. Geoff was kneading the musculature of my neck. I couldn't see how Geoff nodded in reply to his friend's question. But, I knew that he had nodded negatively. Phil's expression told me that Geoff was literally going behind my back.

"Right now, I'm fine."

"Right," Geoff said as he continued to work on my neck. "If these muscles were any tighter I could use them for violin strings."

"Very funny."

Gently, he kneaded the side of my neck. "This is about a high C, in fact," Geoff said. "And this particular strand is about an F above that. On the baroque pitch, of course."

"Geoff, please. Cut out the jokes. I know that you are just trying to relieve the tension. But, I'm not in the mood."

"You are going to go over to the Y and spend some time working off the tension. I'll make the supreme sacrifice and play you a game of racket ball. Although in the mood that you are in, you will probably wipe the floor with me. Then you will follow that by a long soak in the hot tub and a sauna," Geoff ordered.

"We've got to go see Padre about the wedding."

"After that meeting, you are going to spend time working off tension and relaxing if I have to hog tie you to make you do it."

"That would be rather counterproductive, don't you think."

"Take it easy, 'Licia."

"I don't feel like taking it easy," I stated. I felt angry as I turned to face him. "Why in the world would I feel like taking it easy. I'm just about ready to spit nails, and you tell me to take it easy?"

"'Licia, sweetheart, please calm down."

"Calm down? Not rudy likely. Not in this universe."