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Grabbing a joint from my stash box, I take off across the street to the Columbia River for a walk along the jetty to clear my head. After the shooting, I began having panic attacks, and weed has been the only thing I've found to help calm them.
I walk to an isolated bench at the end of the jetty before taking the first hit and feeling the anxiety float away with each exhaled breath. Unlocking my phone, I type her name into my Google search bar.
Andrea Raffield, Sonoma, California.
A handful of hits come up on Facebook and Instagram, and a few mentions here and there of things she did with her kids. Not that I thought Andrea would be the type of woman to have something scandalous about her on the internet, but it would have given me a little insight to the woman I can’t get off my mind. She has everything locked down like Fort Knox, so my attempt to stalk her socials fails.
Do I send her a friend request? Is that what a grown-ass man does who kissed a beautiful woman that he only wants to be friends with but can't stop thinking about? Am I ready to open my Pandora's Box to someone new?
I hit the friend request button before I can change my mind, then finish my joint, and head back to the hotel to call it a night.
With no recollection of falling asleep, I'm awoken by the aggravating sound of a Zoom call. It's the lawyer again.Fuck.
I sit up, making myself somewhat presentable before answering the call.
I met Joel Applebaum about six years ago, when he came to me wanting a full warrior backpiece tattoo. He's been my client ever since, and now, unfortunately, I'm his. "Hey, Joel. What's going on?"
His face comes into view on my phone screen. "Man, you are the hardest guy to get a hold of."
"Sorry, but it was a nice break being out of service for three days. What's so important that you were calling me on the weekend?"
"Have you told me everything you know about Bailey Hollis?”
My mouth goes dry.
“Some heavy hitters are getting involved with the case." No fan of small talk, he always cuts right to the chase.
"Heavy hitters?" I question.
"Yeah, Rome. This case is being turned over to the feds. It’s beginning to look like this case may be more about Bailey than you,” Joel explains.
I shake my head. That doesn’t make sense.I’mthe one who won the twenty-five grand—
"They need to talk to you. Are you able to return to Los Angeles?"
"Yes. Of course. Anything to help Bailey. Just let me know when and I'll work it out."
"Great. I’ll text the details. Talk to you soon."
I dial the ten numbers I memorized after Lindsay slipped them into my pocket yesterday morning, needing a friend, but instead of hitting send and calling Andrea, I erase the numbers and turn my phone off.
Pulling the pillow over my face, I scream. I scream as loud as I can because I don't know whether to laugh or cry at this point anymore.
Two hours into my drive to Denver, my facetime rings, and Bailey's face appears on my screen. Shit! In the chaos of everything, I forgot my call with Bailey is scheduled for this afternoon. I pull off at the upcoming exit and park.
"Hello."
"Hi, Mr. Abrams. Bailey is comfortably resting. Is this a good time for your call?" Nurse Susan asks.
"It is. How's she doing?"
"No change, I'm afraid. I will place the iPad on her tray facing her, and we've gotten headphones for her to wear, to ensure your conversation is private."
"Thank you, Susan. I appreciate you doing this for us."
"It's my pleasure. I never wanted to say anything because I know you both are going through so much, but I'm a huge fan. I started watchingTattoo Geniusbecause of you. You gave me my first tattoo about ten years ago."
"I'm sorry, I don't remember.
