Agnes was still up when her phone rang. Later, she considered it fortunate that she was the only one up, that her parents were asleep in their room and her children were asleep in her room, that she'd been still too wound up from her shift to sleep and wanted an hour or two for herself after everyone had gone to bed. Whenever she was alone in Al and Rachel's townhouse, she tended to stay up later than she would at her parents', either reading or listening to an audiobook on her phone that she'd downloaded free from VPL, a luxury of free time she'd gotten used to and wanted to take advantage of when she was back from fantasy land, which was what she'd gotten to calling the townhouse, because it was a rare trip to a place where no one bothered her for a while.
She'd been sitting and listening to her audiobook out on the front porch, bundled up in a heavy coat and ear muffs over the ear buds in her ears, enjoying the crisp winter air, so much warmer in the rainforest that was the Lower Mainland than it was in the Okanagan, watching her breath curl into steam whenever it left her mouth, when the audiobook cut out and her phone rang. Luckily the ringing could only be heard through her ear buds, so no one would be disturbed inside.
To her surprise, she saw that it was Al calling. The two of them had exchanged phone numbers as soon as he'd gotten his replacement phone and come back to work; they'd met for lunch whenever Agnes had a shift at Central Branch around that time, and they often texted to arrange it. Why he was calling now, late on a Saturday night, she couldn't guess, but part of her thrilled at the possibility that he was making an illicit call to whisper sweet nothings in her ear.
She tapped to accept the call and said in a low voice, "Al?"
"Agnes." His voice had none of his usual warmth. It had nothing to it, actually, and already she was on alert for something wrong.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Uh... yeah, I'm okay, but... shit, I'm sorry, I don't know how to tell you this..."
"Tell me what?" she asked, sitting straighter in her chair.
He sighed, and it sounded almost like a death rattle. "I just received some terrible news, Agnes, and I don't know if anyone's told you yet--"
"Me? What's going on? Is it your wife, or another loved one?"
"No. Agnes, it's your husband."
"My ex-husband, and what's he done?" she asked, preparing herself to go on the defensive.
"Agnes..." Al trailed off.
"What?!" she demanded, getting annoyed now, and she never thought she'd ever be annoyed with Al.
"Patrick is dead, Agnes."
She sat absolutely still for what seemed like an eternity.
"Agnes?" Al asked. "Are you all right?"
"How do you know?" she asked, her voice vibrating with the shudders that began wracking her body. She didn't know if it was the cold of the night or the shock of his revelation that was causing her to shake, but she was glad she didn't need to hold her phone to her ear right now, because she was sure she would have dropped it.
"Joe got a call from Joanie," Al explained. "She said Patrick was leaving her house tonight when his truck exploded."
"Oh my God!" she squeaked, hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. "They got him! They fucking got him!"
"What?" Al asked. "Who got him?"
"The Mercers, they put a hit on him!"
"Who are the Mercers?"
She'd already slipped up mentioning the name at all, so she might as well tell him everything. There was no point maintaining confidentiality now, because Patrick was beyond the arm of the law and he couldn't retaliate against her anymore.
She kept it as concise as she could, a shortened version of the story she told Mandeep Randhawa, because she was really starting to get cold and she wanted to end this call as quickly as she could and go back inside, though what she would do once she was inside she didn't know. Wake everybody up and tell them? Then nobody would be able to get back to sleep, and the house would be one wall of sound, her children wailing and crying for their daddy. No, better for them to have one last untroubled night, and then they could figure out what they might do in the morning. Shit, she had a shift tomorrow; she'd have to call in and cancel.
When she was finished, Al was silent a moment. Then he said, "If this is true, Agnes, if these people have retaliated against Patrick for something he did, do you think there's any possibility that they might target you?"
"Me?" she asked, surprised.
"You said they visited you at your house in Kelowna. What if they realize you'll get this news and remember that visit? Maybe they'll want to tie up loose ends."
She was silent a moment as she thought about it. "I don't know," she finally admitted. "I mean, why not kill me back then as a punishment for Patrick? And anyway, they don't know where I am, or at least I don't think they do."
"Are you sure you don't want to stay at the townhouse full time with your family until this gets resolved, just in case these guys do track down your family home?"
She sighed in resignation and said, "I'll think about it. Maybe once I break the news to my family, I can convince them of the threat and the necessity of the move."
"Good. You might want to tell them soon, I imagine the police will be around; you're probably still next of kin even if you're divorced."
"Yeah."
"Look, Agnes, for what it's worth, I'm sorry for your loss. I might not hold any man who replaced me in high esteem, but nobody deserved this."
"Thank you," she said, and finally the tears came.
"Are you going to be okay?" he asked.
"No," she admitted, wiping her face and sniffing.
"Do you want me to come over?"
His offer was so tempting that she'd almost accepted. If there was one person she wanted to see after receiving this news, it was the man she was still in love with, the man for whom she'd put on a brave face when they had their friendly lunches these past two months, while she fantasized about the life they could have together, maybe even joining their two families in a happy mishmash. Somehow, in these fantasies, Rachel either didn't exist or had suddenly run off with some other man, leaving Al lonely, brokenhearted and a single father, desperate for her to swoop in and save him from a life without love. If she asked him to, he'd come tonight, and they could cuddle on this porch while he spoke words of condolence in her ear, and maybe they'd kiss like they did that day at the hospital.
But then she'd have to introduce him to her parents, because his arrival would probably rouse them, and then he'd have to explain why he was there so late at night, and then the whole bloody circus would begin.
She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "No, it's all right, Al. As much as I'd like you to, it's probably best for everyone here if you don't. I think for now I need to be with my family and grieve together."
"Okay. Call me if you need me, though, for anything."
She smiled even though he couldn't see it. "Thanks, Al. And thanks for letting me know before the police did. As hard as the news is, I'm glad I had you to talk to about it."
"Of course, Agnes. I guess I'll let you go, then."
"Okay, Al. I love you."
"I love you too, and I'm only able to say that because Rachel's upstairs."
She laugh-cried and said, "Don't let me get you in trouble. Goodnight, Al."
"Goodnight."
He hung up and the audiobook continued playing. She didn't hear any of the words the narrator was saying, because now she was full on sobbing, being as quiet as she could so as not to wake up anybody inside.
Thanks for reading this far! This was a short chapter, but I thought I should show Agnes receiving the news of her ex-husband's death; she might not have wanted to be married to him anymore, but he was still the father of her children, and his loss will still leave a giant hole in their lives. If you liked what you read so far, hit "Vote" to send this title up the ranks. Leave a comment and let me know what you think!
To see how Joanie's doing in the aftermath of Patrick's death, click on "Continue reading."