Page 59 of Fifty-Fifty

I am not losing my mind.

I came out of Jimmy’s restaurant after breakfast and she was on the other side of the street. This is the second time I’ve seen her in as many days. She gunned the bike and rode away just as Hal came out the front door of the restaurant. He said he didn’t notice her.

Maybe Hal’s losing his goddamn marbles.

I called Mike Modine, right then. I told him to hire the PI Hal had recommended.

10:30 p.m.

Sofia came over with some chicken noodle soup and we watched Jeopardy. After the show she made grilled cheese and gave it to me on a tray with some milk. It wasn’t as good as Alexandra’s cooking, but I didn’t dare say that to her.

Alexandra made me pasta last night and it was great. Strange aftertaste. I had one of those smoothies so I couldn’t tell if it was the pasta or the smoothie. It didn’t matter, the meal was so good I slept for an hour afterwards.

I worry about Sofia. She’s not like her sister. Alexandra is strong, organized and making her own way in the world. Sofia doesn’t even have a job. No boyfriend either, although these days that’s not such a bad thing.

Some of the guys she’s dated were just junkies. I knew it soon as I looked at them. She tells me she’s clean. I believe her.

As she cleared the empty tray away, I saw her arms.

There was a bloodstain on her sleeve. On the forearm.

She’s not using but she’s still cutting herself. This is how it starts. In six months I’ll have to book her into another clinic to dry out.

She tells me she’s taking her meds. I tell her that her sister never missed her anxiety meds, and look how good she’s doing. Sofia won’t talk about Alexandra. These two will never make up. It just won’t happen. I thought about telling her to watch out for a woman on a motorcycle, but then thought better of it. Sofia is paranoid enough.

When she was here she did something. A gesture, or a movement, or something I just can’t remember and it reminded me of her mother. I wanted to tell her that but right then I couldn’t remember her mother’s name. I couldn’t remember my own dead wife’s name.

Maybe I really am losing it.

PART THREE

LIARS AND LAWYERS

EIGHTEEN

EDDIE

Nobody ran to Wesley Dreyer to make a deal. No plea agreements. This was a

straight fight and today was the first major battle.

I arrived in court with Harry in tow. He’d prepared most of the motion briefs, which I’d filed last week. Today was arguments and judgments. No need to bring the client to court, for which I was thankful. After Sofia showed up at my office, she’d calmed down a little and between Harper and I we checked in on her almost every day. Yesterday she invited us over for coffee. Harper and I sat on her couch while she fussed over warming some cookies before she served them.

‘She really is like a little kid, sometimes,’ I said. ‘Who serves cookies to their lawyers?’

‘Look,’ said Harper, pointing to the hallway. ‘Go on, just a peek. It should be on her bed.’

I got up quietly, moved into the hall and there, on Sofia’s bed, was an old, soft toy. Its fake fur had matted and was bald in other parts. It was a blue bunny rabbit. I sat back down before Sofia could notice I’d been snooping.

Harper whispered, ‘She’s had that since she was a kid. She said her mom bought one for her and her sister before she passed. She still sleeps with it.’

I nodded. I’d heard her mention her sister carrying a rabbit when she found her mother dead on the stairs.

‘Did she mention the toy to you?’

‘Yeah. She sleeps with it. Said she and her sister went everywhere with those rabbits when they were kids. I know it has sentimental value, but she’s in her late twenties. She needs someone to look after her.’

Sofia was not cut out for the stresses of life even in ordinary circumstances.