Write About Denial

It was gone.

I felt the panic rising up, withing through my gut, and my stomach began to churn.  Desperately, I tore everything off the table, breathing hard.  No file.  With my hands pressed flat on the table top, I took three deep breaths to calm myself and then began slowly, methodically, picking up every piece of paper off the floor one at a time.  The file was definitely gone.  I sank down into the nearest chair and thought.  My head was still fuzzy from my cold and my throat was sore from coughing but I barely noticed.  Right now, my  whole being was focused on trying to remember where the file had gone.  I got up and paced to the front door.  I walked through my actions like an actor at a dress rehearsal.  Came in, dropped my keys and purse on the side table.  A quick rummage turned up no file folder.  Next I went into the kitchen to put on the pot for tea.  I retraced my steps.  The pot was still steaming and my neglected cup of peppermint tea sat cooling on the counter.  I touched everything on the counter but it was no use.  No folder.  Then what?  I could have sworn I headed to the table and dropped the folder there but a recheck still came up empty.  The phone!  I turned and headed into the small room off the front entry that I used for my home office.  Leslie had called me and I had picked up here, by my desk.  With mounting hope I rummaged through various papers and files but the blue folder was nowhere.  I paused, stumped, racking my brain for what came next.  Leslie had come by to check on me, we had chatted over tea, then she left and I headed back to the kitchen to clean up.  What else?   There had to be something else.  Something I was missing.  After Leslie left, had I seen the file?  I froze right in the door frame between the office and foyer.  Had I seen the file after Leslie left?  I leaned against the door jam for support as the answer rose in my head.  I hadn't.

Leslie.

No, no, it couldn't be.  I paced anxiously up and down the hallway trying to think of a scenario where the folder disappeared without Leslie being involved.  But the more I paced, the more pieces fell together.  Leslie had been so helpful and concerned.  She always appeared right when I needed her.  I never thought it through before but her involvement was kind of odd.  After all, we were only distant cousins but yet she had stuck her neck out for me numerous times this last week.  Hell, I would never have gotten my hands on that file without her.  She was the one with the contacts at the police station.  She was the one who arranged for the money drop.  She was the one who had showed up to check on my head cold and then walked out of here and the file was gone.

":Damn it," I whispered as I cut my pacing short and headed to the phone.  I didn't want to make this call but I could no long deny the truth.  Leslie had played me.

Bruce answered on the second ring.

"Yo."

"It's me.  We have a situation."

"Go."

"It's Leslie.  She has the folder.  She has all of it."

There was silence on the line.  I could hear Bruce breathing and the faint sound of cheering in the background.  Was he at a bar?

"You sure?"  he asked at last.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"OK, what's the play?"

"I'm going to call her.   Maybe I'm wrong but I double it.  Can you be at her place in 10?  If you see her try to run, grab her and call me.  We can meet at the warehouse and decided how to cover this up.  It needs to happen quickly but it needs to be quiet Bruce, got it?"  Bruce was very effective but he also tended to be very loud and didn't care about innocent bystanders.  The last thing I needed was the cops interested in me again when I was this close to free.  Damn Leslie.

"Got it.  Make the call in 10."  Bruce hung up.  I slammed the phone down with more force than necessary but I was sweating.  From the cold or anger or nerves, I just didn't know.  Leslie.  Oh Leslie, why?  To kill time, I headed back to the kitchen and poured anther cup of tea.  I sipped it slowly while watching the clock, watching the pieces fall into place, seeing for the first time what she had done.  When ten minutes were up, I picked up my phone, took a deep breath, and dialed.

The phone rang and rang.  Right when I thought she was already gone, she picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Les, it's me," I croaked into the phone, adding a hacking cough for good measure.

"Oh man, you sound awful!  Are you drinking that tea I brought you?

"Yeah, thanks Les.  You have been so great.  I don't know what I'd do without you."  My words came out sweet but my thoughts were much darker.  "Listen, I have one last favor to ask.  Could you run over to Longs and get me some NyQuil?  I need my head clear when I meet with Jason to give him the info.  He should be here in about an hour or so.  And maybe I could introduce you?  You never know, after all this clears up, he may have some work for you too."

I could hear the pause now that I was listening for it.  She was good though.  Her voice stayed steady.

"Sure hon.  No problem.  I'll pop out to the store and head right over.  I should be there in, like, five, ok?"

I clicked off the line but didn't put the phone down.  Some part of me still hoped I was wrong.  Some small part still believed the phone would not ring.  But it did.

"Yo.  I got her.  She was runnin. Meet you at the warehouse?"

"Yeah Bruce.  See you there."

Oh Leslie.  Why?