Thea burrowed down under the covers. There were crackers in the bed, or parts of them, and cheese stick wrappers. There might have been a wine bottle or two on the floor near it.  the doorbell had been ringing but James’ parents weren’t bringing Seb back until at least next week and everyone else could just go away.

The police had been yesterday. They’d stepped in the door and said they’d been called on a wellness check. Thea had yelled down that she was fine and they could go away. So they had. She had another week to stew in cracker crumbs and cheese wrappers before she had to take a shower frequently enough to qualify as a human and figure out how to be a single parent.

Kay had called yesterday, after the wellness check—which probably meant that had been her idea—and Thea had texted back that she was fine and she’d call in a couple of days.

The blanket ripped off her, light spilling into her cocoon and Thea buried her face. She hadn’t even heard the door open. The curtain rings grated loudly as they rushed across the rod and her bedroom turned into the surface of the sun.

Weight landed on the mattress next to her. “I was always your friend and not his.”

Thea blinked at Kay, miraculously back from wherever she’d been working and sitting on the edge of Thea’s bed.

Kay shifted uncomfortably, crumpling a cheese stick wrapper in her hand. “And I’m not saying you can’t be…as sad as you need to be.”

She rolled over, and threw an arm over her face, sniffling. She wasn’t sure she was even sad any more, not actively. It was more…numb. She’d cried until her tear-ducts cramped, and then it’d sort of stopped.

She’d managed to keep herself moving for the first three weeks, and get them through the beginning. And then Seb had gotten out of school and he was there and she was trying and he was…he was a kid. Kids were rubber bouncy balls. She didn’t doubt he was still grieving, or that he wouldn’t keep grieving.

She didn’t doubt she could have managed. But when James’ parents showed up and said they wanted to take him for a month during the summer, and he’d wanted to go, she’d happily sent him.  

“I know you.” Kay swallowed. “You were going to rock out of this bed in a week, guilty and hurt because Seb needs his Mom and you need…time.”

Thea rubbed her eyes, and puffed out a breath. “I don’t know what I need.”

“I know you need to not crawl under your bed. I don’t think that’ll make the world make sense again.”

“Seb?”

“I picked him up, he’s unpacking his clothes.” Kay shifted, folding her legs on the bed. “I told him I got leave unexpectedly.”

“How long?”

Kay watched her quietly, and glanced down at her hangs, fiddling in her lap. “Until I think you’re okay when I go back.”

“Kay—“

“You didn’t answer your phone. I actually called in a well-check and you told them to go away and still didn’t answer your phone.” Kay sniffled. “You aren’t okay, you couldn’t be okay. And Seb…your in-laws barely know me, and they sent him with me, Dottie. He wanted to come home, but nobody wants to make this harder for you and…and maybe me being here is only a paper moon, so you can pretend to not be broken for a while.”

Thea sat up, sighing. “But I have to start somewhere.”

​Kay handed her the cheese wrapper. “Start with being presentable enough for your kid. I bought fried chicken from the scary place on the highway so you know it’ll be awesome.” 


​Come back tomorrow for Q

“You could let me in,” David muttered, standing on her porch, sheltered from a dripping rain.

Thea stepped back automatically, letting him past the door. She’d been on the phone when the doorbell rang and hadn’t really thought to look through and see who it was before she opened the door.

That was stupid, and something she’d been taught very seriously not to do. Even before all the secret in their lives, Kay had insisted they watch way too many true-crime shows in their younger days. Even in college Thea had been keenly aware how quickly someone’s life could become a statistic. She’d always locked the garage door to any house she was in, and all the windows, and found front doors with windows in them, not just peep holes, and all the other ridiculous safety measures that’d seemed overkill and annoying at twenty-five.

“I wasn’t sure you’d be in town.”

Thea swallowed. “I said I’d be back the next week.”

“That was a month ago, and you certainly wouldn’t have told me if you left again.”

She had, technically, even if she hadn’t left the country. She wouldn’t have told him about Monterey either. Sharing just led to questions and…well, if they weren’t permanent she was probably better off not telling him anything. “Did you…need something?”

He pulled a bag off his shoulder and held it out. “These were your things.”

“My things?” Thea took the bag from him, confused. She’d never really spent time at David’s place. It was difficult, with Seb.

She spent so much time away from him for work she didn’t like to leave him for more than a few hours when she was home. There’d been dates with David, but other than a weekend or two away not a lot of other times.

She opened the bag and peeked in at an assortment of toiletry bottles and an old hairbrush.

“When we went to that cabin while Seb was at camp.”

“Oh.” Thea nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

She didn’t need any of it, and he could have called rather than driving all the way to her house. Unless he wasn’t making the drive to return an old brush and some half-used toiletries.

“I wanted to—“

“You—“

They both stopped, and Thea rubbed the back of her neck. “Go ahead.”

David crossed his arms over his chest and rocked on his heels. “I guess I just wanted to see if things were still awkward even when you were here.”

She frowned at him. “When have they not been awkward?”

He laughed, relaxing a bit, and shaking his head. “There were a couple of moments.” He looked around him, and watched her for a second. “We can be friends, right?”

“Of course.” Not that she had any idea what that meant.

He nodded, and stepped up to kiss her on the cheek. “Good. Be careful with yourself, D.”

“Yeah. You too.” She swallowed. “Thanks for bringing my stuff.”

David walked to the door, and stopped. “Just…answer one question for me?”

She blinked. “I can’t promise.”

He rolled his eyes. “Does Seb know what you do?”

That was the million dollar question these days. She’d gotten much less serious about keeping secrets from him, but she still didn’t volunteer information. More for his own safety than because she thought he was going to tell anyone.

“Whatever you think is enough, it probably won’t be any more when he gets older.” David smiled sadly. “People who care about you don’t like to be locked out of your life, D. Just some friendly advice.”

“Thank you.” She managed not to give him the death glare that went along with the power suit, but she still shut the door smartly behind him.

So what if he was right.

​

Come back tomorrow for P: Paper Airplanes.

Edit: So...Somehow the web monkeys got confused and put M out on the 14th and L out on the 15th. I promise I know the order of the alphabet. 

On the plus side I'm not sure it'll make a lot of difference to your reading experience. 

Boo, Web Monkeys.

Kay liked to joke that Thea was born with the ability to stare people down. Just you wait, someday they’ll find it’s a gene.

It was probably more apt to say that Thea had learned young not to give away more than she had to. The only way half of the things she did for the day-job worked was because no one had to remind her not to over-explain her position. Kay had done six months of elite para-military training on how to keep her mouth shut when she was negotiating.

The few people who knew her thought Thea came out of the womb that way. Reticent and reserved.

She hadn’t called anyone, to tell them Moira had been to see her. She’d sent them a simple, impersonal email because…well, she didn’t really have a why. Moira hadn’t come to her because it was Thea’s job to find a replacement. It wasn’t, at least not on paper. But Moira had gone, and Thea had agreed to inform the others—at least the ones who needed informing before it was time for Moira to retire—and she’d sent them a simple email.

Six hours later she was ready to crawl under her bed and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

-----------: You should have realized they were going to panic.

Kay. Thea rubbed her face and stared at her phone. Had they panicked at Kay? They had every right to panic at Kay—again, sort of and not on paper—but secret societies were complicated. Generally, she or Moira got panicked at so Kay wouldn’t, unless it was about Thea.

TheA: Yeah, I realized the email was a bad approach when Alice called.

-----------: Ha. We do love Rabbit. I do still think I should be allowed to call you Tigger.

Thea smiled, and dropped her head forward.

TheA: If anyone’s Tigger it’s you.

-----------: No proof.

Seb walked into the kitchen, game headset still on, talking to a school friend while they tilted at the alien menace, and she watched him critically. She’d told him about Moira. It wouldn’t have helped to keep it a secret, and he was fond of Moira.
He stuck his tongue out on his way back to his game, and she returned the favor.

-----------: Are you okay?

TheA: I don’t know. It’s not like I haven’t been here before.

-----------: That’s why I’m asking. Have you told squirt?

TheA: Yes. He’s fine. I think we’re a little too adjusted to death, actually. I’m sure that’ll be an issue eventually.

-----------: Well, at least you have money for therapy. Do you want me to tell them to lay off you?

TheA: No, I should have handled it better. I think it’s done now anyway. Are you good?

-----------: Peachy. I’d tell you what I was doing, but…

TheA: I think we’re already on enough watch-lists. Let’s not add treason to our potential legal problems.

-----------: About that. Do we have a trustworthy person before tax-time? If I need to put in for leave I need to know soon.

TheA: I have a couple of thoughts that should be able to handle the position and all it’s attendant issues. Go do you’re *redacted content in redacted place*. Thanks for checking.

-----------: You do realize it doesn’t make them less nervous when you redact yourself.

TheA: Made you laugh though. :)


Come back tomorrow for M:Mating Pairs.

Thea was prepared for anything, when she was on the job. She had to be, that was the nature of what she’d agreed to do.

“Hello, dear,” Moira said, sitting in the shaded rocker on her front porch.

Thea blinked at the older woman, and resisted the urge to check her phone. No one had told her Moira was coming. Did anyone else know Moira was coming? “Hello.” She shifted the twelve bags of groceries she’d carried from the car.

“Would you like me to take some of those?”

“No.” Thea moved to the door and juggled the bags and the lock and stumbled through the door less than gracefully. “I’ve got it.”

Moira laughed gently, leaning on her cane as she pulled herself up from the chair and shuffled toward the house. “I’m sorry to drop in on you.”

Thea swallowed. “That’s okay. Um…”

“I would love a cup of tea, if one were offered.”

“Of course.” She sat the bags in the edge of the kitchen. “Have a seat and let me turn the kettle on.”

The older woman took herself to the same padded chair she’d chosen on her last visit. It’d only been a couple of months, but she looked thinner. Paler. Thea popped the cold goods in the fridge, and got her tea things out. The kettle dinged gently when the water was done boiling, and she poured water over the good Earl Grey teabags. The ones Kay had sent from England every six months.

It took her a moment to find the box of ginger snaps in the shopping, and spill a few onto a plate before she put both the cups and the plate of cookies on a tray and carried it in to the living room. “I know you just like lemon in yours.”

“I do.” Moira gratefully took her cup. “Thank you darling, you always do a credible service.”

Thea smiled. “I learned well.”

They fell silent, and Thea wasn’t sure what to do with the situation. Moira was there for a reason. She had to be. Did Thea push her to talk about it, or just let them drink their tea?

Moira sipped hers delicately, and sighed. “I’m dying.”

Thea blinked, heart stopping in her chest, tea cup frozen halfway to her mouth.

“I’m sorry. I was trying to find a more delicate way to start that, but I’m not sure there is on.”

Thea put her cup down, and pushed out a tense breath. “Usually not.”

Moira looked at her hands in her lap. “I thought about telling Jane first, I know on paper she’s supposed to be the person I come to with this.”

“But?”

“But I thought you might handle it better.” Moira patted her hand gently. “I’m not sure I could handle tears.”

Thea swallowed, and squared her shoulders. “Okay. What do you need from me?”

“I need you to help me choose a replacement. I need you to help me tell the others.” Moira smiled sadly. “I need you to be you, darling.”

“Okay. Can I ask how?”

“Cancer. It’s stage three right now, but it doesn’t seem to be responding to treatment.” She puffed out a tired breath. “And even if a miracle happens and it starts…”

“I understand.” Thea nodded. “Okay. I’ll herd some canidates together so you can cast an eagle eye over them. Next week?”

Moira grinned at her, eyes crinkling. “You were already making a list, weren’t you?”

She flushed. “You came and asked me about what we’d do if you retired. I assumed I should be prepared in case you wanted to.”

​Moira patted her hand again. “I know it’s strange to say we’re lucky to have you, but we are.”

“I’m quitting.”

Thea stopped, pulling the phone away from her ear for a moment. Scotty’s Pest Control showed on the screen. And it’d been Kay’s voice, but when your friend with a super secret job called out of the blue and started the conversation with that… Well, if you were smart you started looking to cover your bases.

She checked that Seb was still immersed in his videos and stepped out onto the back patio, shutting the sliding door behind her. “Okay.” Thea swallowed. “Like…quitting as in…what do you need?”

Kay huffed. “I’m not calling about your day job. I’m not in trouble. I’ve just decided.”

“Oh. Okay.”

There was a beat of silence.

“That’s all you have to say?” Kay asked, upset.

Thea rubbed her face. “What am I supposed to say. You said you were fine last time we talked.”

“I am fine.” Kay paused for a minute. “Well. Maybe you were right. I’m tired of it. I’m going to finish out my term.”

“Yeah.” Thea smiled wryly. “I’m not sure you’d know what to do with yourself without five million secrets to keep, but okay.”

“Is it really?”

She considered her answer for a minute. It wasn’t the concept of Kay not wanting to do…whatever she did anymore that make Thea uneasy. If she wasn’t running away, if it didn’t involve setting things on fire—possibly literally—and jumping out the window, Thea didn’t have a lot of room to object. “This isn’t an answer, but what’ll you do instead?”

Kay was silent for a second, and Thea let it hang.

“There are all sorts of things I should be doing with Cornucopia, assuming I don’t take the company retirement plan.”

Thea hadn’t ever been clear on what the company retirement plan was, exactly. It wasn’t Cornucopia Kay had duties with, but the line wasn’t that secure. “How long do you have left?”

“A year. Why?”

“I just wanted to make sure I didn’t have to start cleaning out the box room now.”

Kay snorted. “I’m pretty sure Mom would disown me if I didn’t stay with them for at least a little while. And then yeah, I’ll probably wind up in your box room for a while, but just while I’m finding a place. You’re supposed to be getting serious about the boyfriend and moving on with your life.”

She sighed. “You need to stop talking to my son about my romantic life.”

“That would require you having a romantic life. Or a life. And work doesn’t count.”

“Hello, pot, I’m kettle.”

“How is David?”

“Daniel.”

“Daniel then. You never talk about him.”

Thea leaned back against the sliding door, and stared out over the empty yard. “He’s…He’s…”

“Uh oh.”

“It’s complicated.”

“How?’

“He’s perfectly nice but ‘getting serious’ about him isn’t an option.”

“Why?”

“Because he definitely can’t handle the level of secrecy that exists in my life. If I cancel dinner he’s stroppy for a week because I won’t tell him why. If we were serious he definitely wouldn’t handle it well.”

“If you were serious you could tell him.”

“Weren’t we talking about you?”

“I’m deflecting,” Kay insisted. “Humor me.”

“When I was twenty and James was…James and it took us years to hammer our way into a healthy relationship where I didn’t have to give more for equal treatment that was fine. But I’m not twenty, I’m not even thirty any more. I’m too old to pretend to be something other than what I am to reel someone in.”

Kay huffed. “There’s me told. Obviously if he doesn’t think you’re awesome he doesn’t deserve you.” There was a beep in the background. “I have to go. When I know timeline I’ll tell you.”

“Okay. Take care of yourself.”

“You too. Tell the squirt I love him.”



Come back tomorrow for K: Kakapo

Philadelphia, the incident with Detective Ken Carmichael.

There were two police responses to any involvement by Cornucopia Ltd. Response a: DL De Luca was on their side this time, and therefore not to be trusted outside of the exact incident. Or Response B: Shady secret organizations with access to lots of money weren’t to be trusted full stop.

He hadn’t said as much, but clearly Detective Carmichael subscribed to Response B.

He was voluntarily driving her back to the airport, a still wall of disapproval with a crooked tie and the gray pallor of an investigator who didn’t understand what had just happened. It was the look of a man who didn’t like not understanding.

White.Rabbit: Scheduled check-in window closes in forty-five minutes.

DeLuca: Acknowledged. Official business will be concluded in fifteen or less.

“So do the people who buy into this fund know you just offered to give five million of their dollars to a couple of thugs?”

She blinked at him. Aside from a barked ‘offer’ to drive her to the airport—she was relatively sure it was because he wanted her out of his territory, but that wasn’t unusual—he hadn’t spoken. He hadn’t spoken to her above the bare minimum since she went over his head to ensure she made the ransom drop herself.

He didn’t need to know what had happened on the drop. His kidnappers and the person who’d hired them were in custody, and had admitted their transgressions. No money had changed hands. The victim was home safe with her family.

He glanced at her, waiting for an answer.

“I have no knowledge of what information is or is not passed to the fund members of Cornucopia Ltd.”

“So you’re just the paid stooge,” he tried to goad.

“I work on behalf of the best interest of the fund and its members.”

She didn’t say it thinking the company line was going to stop his questions. Detective Carmichael may have been hard and disapproving, but he hadn’t been bad at his job that she’d seen. He understood how his command chain worked, and she had every reason to believe whatever questions he was still asking when she left, they would quell them.

Detective Carmichael knew everything he needed to know. The fact he didn’t feel it was enough was no more her concern than understanding her actual job description was his.

“Do you have children?”

“In what way is that relevant.”

“I’m wondering if they grow people like you in a lab. You know, people who can look at a terrified little girl and not flinch. Do you care?”

“I am paid to complete a job and I complete it.”

He stopped, harder than strictly necessary, at the unloading zone. “Remind me not to call you if I’m in trouble.”

She let herself out of the vehicle and took her case when he pulled it out of the trunk. “Thank you for the ride. Goodbye, Detective Carmichael.”

“Yeah, Goodbye Ms. De Luca.”

She turned, and walked through the automatic door.

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Carmichael muttered, probably assuming she wouldn’t hear him.

She made no acknowledgement, and meticulously deleted his contact information from her phone as she walked through the airport.

DeLuca: Business accomplished. Commence standard information scrub.

White.Rabbit: PHL paperwork tagged appropriately, as well as Detective Carmichael’s personal and work email. Your personal messages have loaded. Do you require anything else?

DeLuca: No, this device will go dark at altitude. Thank you for your work Ms. White.

When the seat belt light turned off DL DeLuca stepped into the bathroom. No one seemed to notice when Dottie stepped out.

Come back tomorrow for E: Endings!