My Sister's Prayer (43 page)

In the meantime, I thought about calling my father next but hesitated. Knowing him, he'd race right up here and insist on taking both of us back home with him. But even with Hedge out there “sniffing around,” as Ortiz had put it, I didn't want that. Not only did I have to be in Richmond for my job each day, but changing things now would mess with every single element of our carefully constructed schedule, threatening all the progress Nicole had been making, both with her therapy and her daily meetings.

Hands shaking now from the aftereffects of adrenaline, I found myself scrolling for Greg's number instead. He answered on the first ring, sounding pleased to hear from me even though it was a Sunday night and not a workday.

Speaking in a low voice, I explained the situation, adding that I'd called my detective friend and was waiting to hear back from her, but
in the meantime I just wanted his opinion on whether I should tell Nicole about this or not.

He sighed heavily, and I could picture his thoughtful expression, his concerned eyes. He asked a few questions to clarify—this was the first he'd heard about the existence of a second passenger in the car who had run off after the accident—and then he concluded that maybe for now it would be better if she didn't know. His thinking was that if she realized the guy was coming around, she might find a way to connect with him, and that was something none of us wanted to happen. For all we knew, Hedge wasn't just her friend but her dealer as well, and he had come here with drugs in hand.

“There are a few things we need to do security-wise,” Greg added. As he went on to talk about doors and windows and exterior lighting and even some instruction in self-defense, all I could think of was how he'd used the word “we.” Things
we
need to do. Something about that made me feel safe yet empowered. Proactive. I thought of a line from a song by the Miralettes: “Always there when I need him, he's such a stand-up guy.” That was Greg to the core. Maybe that should be his ringtone.

We made plans and ended the call. I listened to make sure the shower was still going and then quickly dialed Miss Vida next. Not only did I want her to know that I'd caught an unsavory friend of Nicole's snooping around, but I needed help in getting Nicole out of here for a few hours tomorrow night so Greg and I could work unobserved. As usual, the older woman sounded more than happy to help. She came up with a grand plan for the evening, including what she would make for dinner and how she just might use the opportunity to teach Nicole mah-jongg. We were interrupted by a beep, so I ended our call and answered, glad it was Ortiz.

We didn't talk long. I'd made several decisions since leaving the message, and she concurred with those decisions now. She offered to do one favor, saying she would contact my local precinct to let them know what was going on and who the guy was so they could “up the patrol” for a while. “You know, they'll establish a presence and keep an eye on the place. Make a point of being seen. It won't take long for Hedge to
notice, and then he'll probably hightail it out of there. One more parole violation, and he's back behind bars. He's not going to risk that.”

Before going to bed, I sat by the upstairs window for a while and peered out into the darkness, watching for anything suspicious. Instead, I was thrilled to see a police car pass by on the street, slowly and deliberately, not once but twice in a half hour period. Thanks to that, and to the three friends who had come to my aid tonight, I ended up sleeping well despite my scary encounter.

The next day was to be my sister's first day on the job, and the timing couldn't have been better. Now that she was somewhat ambulatory, no way did I want her at home and in a position to connect with anyone from her past.

Because Nicole was still recovering from her injuries, Debra started her out slowly, giving her simple duties she could perform while seated. She told her that as long as she tracked her time, she was free to take as many breaks as she needed and even call it a day once she'd had enough. Debra showed her the family meeting room across the hall and explained that she was welcome to treat it as her own personal break space. Set up more like a living room than a counseling office, it held a long couch that would be perfect for putting her feet up and taking a nap. And because it was only used in the evenings, for family counseling sessions, it was always empty during the day.

Once her orientation was done, Nicole jumped right in, and she seemed to catch on to things quickly. She'd dropped out of college halfway through her first year, but she was a sharp kid, and I had no doubt she could handle whatever anyone threw her way. Had she not gone down the wrong road back then, she'd be out of school and in the workforce in some professional capacity by now, I felt sure. Perhaps at some point, if she stayed clean, she could try again.

As Debra and I had expected, Nicole ran out of steam after just a few hours and spent the afternoon sleeping in the family meeting room. By the time we headed home, she still seemed exhausted, but she was in
good spirits. I wasn't surprised. Work was a great thing, a healthy thing, and I had no doubt this little job was going to have all sorts of positive effects on my sister. Too bad it would only last for four weeks, until her sentence kicked in and she would have to head off to rehab—or to jail.

On the drive home, I told Nicole that Miss Vida had invited her over for dinner, followed by a mah-jongg lesson. And though she was tired, she actually seemed pleased at the idea.

“Just me, though?”

“Yeah. I have some things I need to do. I figure at least this way you won't be bored while I'm gone.”

She grunted. “In other words, Miss Vida is babysitting me again—though why over at her place this time?”

“It's not babysitting.”

“Oh, wait,” she said, ignoring my objection. “I get it. You're wanting a little private time with Dr. Ken Doll.”

I glanced at her. “Actually, we did have a date tonight, but I canceled it. Too much else going on.”

“You canceled on him
again
? Better be careful, Maddee, or you just might make his plastic hair fall out with worry.”

I couldn't help but smile. “What's it to you? You don't like him anyway.”

“I like him fine. I just don't like him for you. In fact, if you think about it…” Her voice trailed off, leaving silence between us.

“If you think about it, what?”

“Well, it's just…if you're willing to skip a date with a sexy hunk like him just to run errands or whatever, then maybe you're not as into him as you think you are.”

I hesitated, not wanting to sound defensive but wishing I could make her understand. “Austin and I want the same things,” I said finally. And we did. Family, kids, stability.

“Whatever you say, sis,” she replied. Then she turned and gazed out the window, silent the rest of the way home.

Greg led me across the squishy mat, one hand on my elbow for stability. We were at his physical therapy clinic, after hours, in the main gym, which was a large, impressive space lined with fancy equipment. Along one wall was a huge blue floor mat, and that's where we got into position now.

After spending more than an hour at the carriage house, checking and fixing the locks on all windows and doors and installing two exterior motion detector lights, we were at last embarking on the self-defense portion of the evening. As a former instructor, Greg had said he could show me a number of moves and techniques I could use to protect myself in dangerous situations.

“The most important thing to remember when you're under threat is this,” he said, and then he counted off on his fingers. “Eyes, throat, groin, knees. These are some of the most vulnerable parts of the body, and that's what makes them your four primary targets. Injuring your attacker, even briefly, in one of those places may give you enough time to get away.”

“Okay, I'm ready.” Stifling a grin, I raised both arms and one leg in the air, assuming the classic crane pose from
The Karate Kid
.

Greg smiled. “Intimidating. But remember, it's not about karate—or taekwondo or krav maga or anything else, for that matter. It's just basic self-defense, where anything can be a weapon. You don't need perfect form or special knowledge.”

“But what if I have some smooth moves?” I asked, digging deep in my middle school martial arts memory and executing an impressive side snap kick.

This time he didn't smile. He walked over to me and placed his hands on my upper arms, looking me deeply in the eyes. I had previously thought we were the same height, but with both of us face-to-face and barefoot, I realized he was a good two inches taller.

“You need to take this seriously, Maddee. I want you to be safe.”

I could feel the warmth of his hands through the thin fabric of my shirt. Goose bumps lifted on my forearms.

“I'm sorry,” I said, meaning it. “I'll behave. Guess it's just easier to be silly than to admit I actually need to know this stuff.”

He gave me an understanding nod, let go, and returned to his previous position on the mat.

“Basically, you want to use your elbows, fingers, feet, car keys, cell phone—anything you have at your disposal to cause pain to your attacker, which will momentarily distract him. Whatever it takes.”

I nodded. “Cause pain, escape. Got it.”

“Good. Okay.” He stepped back a few feet and turned to one side. “Let's say I'm you, and you're the attacker.”

I wanted to make a joke, something about if he were me, then he would definitely not be wearing that shade of orange, but I held my tongue. After all, I'd promised to behave.

“Are you ready?” Greg asked, interrupting my thoughts.

“Ready for what?”

“I want you to come at me, but in slow motion. I'll show you what you should do in response.”

“All right.”

Concentrating now, I did as he said, moving toward him and grabbing his left upper arm with both hands. As I did, he raised that arm in a wide circle, breaking my grip, and then he quickly spun toward me and pretended to jab at my eyes with his other hand.

I stepped back, surprised at how easily he had managed to defend himself.

“Good. Let's try it again, this time from the back.”

I did as instructed, moving forward and flinging an arm around his throat, but before I could even blink, his foot was at my kneecap. Had he actually kicked, I would have been on the ground in agony.

We spent the next hour trying different techniques, changing roles, learning and experimenting until I began to feel confident. It was strenuous, both of us growing sweaty as we worked, but it was fun too. More than once, I found myself marveling at his surprising physique. Having never seen him in anything other than his standard uniform of navy polo shirt and khaki pants, I hadn't realized how fit he was.

If that day ever came when he and Nicole actually did start dating, she wouldn't just be getting a good man, I realized. She'd be getting a buff one too.