Aftermath (20 page)

A
minute or so later
, Kennedy called.

"Can't keep doing this, blondie," he said. "It'll look like we're having an affair. Especially as everyone knows you keep looking at my bum."

“You still at the stadium? Something’s happened. We need to talk to Chris, tell him what’s been going on…”

“Already have. He’s gone home.”

“But - ”

“Leave it be, Reilly. It’s been a very long day and the man is exhausted. He was at the doc’s earlier so I hope everything’s OK, but you know Chris, won’t say a word. And I know my darling wife - who
will
- and she’s expecting me home in half an hour.”

“The vigil’s over? Where’s Annabel Morrison?”

“Gone to Lillies with Bono and Ryan Tubridy, I think.”

Reilly bristled. Typical that the callous witch had the audacity to head off to a celebrity nightclub with her famous friends, while her husband fought for his life in a hospital not far from here.

Shaking the thought away, she quickly filled Kennedy in on all that had happened in the meantime.

“Christ alive …” he said sounding shaken. “You’re sure?”

“The team’s taken everything back to the lab, trying to get all our ducks in a row so we can go pick up Annabel.”

“Reilly where are you?” he asked, suddenly suspicious.

“At the Intercontinental.”

“For football’s sake…”

A
few minutes later
, she got through to Chris.

“Reilly, it’s almost midnight …what’s going on?”

“You need to arrest Annabel Morrison.”

He sighed. “So I hear; Kennedy just got me up to speed. While I think it’s an …interesting avenue of investigation, I’m still not sure why something that happened over two decades ago is relevant to our case.”

“The team just made it relevant - we found latent bloodspill at the Morrison house. Lab’s testing it now for a match with Ian Cross.”

“What? You were back at the house tonight…? Hold on, slow down a little. Kennedy just said the two you were talking to a couple of people …”

“Yes, we were trying to get the job done. And as of now, the job's gotten much bigger, Chris. We have forensic evidence of a 20-year-old homicide in that house. This is way bigger than any of us thought. Josh and Annabel Morrison are not the angels everyone thinks they are."

“What in God’s name are you talking about?”

"We need to bring in Annabel for the murder of Ian Cross. After that, I’m sure we’ll find out what happened to Josh, straight from the horse’s mouth.”

The line was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, but you sound like you're out of your bloody mind," he retorted. "Ian Cross?
The
Ian Cross? The Leinster player who died in that drunk driving accident?”

“Yes, it’s a long story …”

“Then why am I only hearing it now? Jesus, Reilly as if going behind my back with Kennedy wasn't bad enough…”

“I know and I’m sorry, but speed is of the essence now. We're entering day six here, and we don’t want to waste valuable time trying to get decisions by committee. I need to do my job and I need you to trust me."

“We can’t just jump in with both feet either - especially after what happened the other day. Anyway, Annabel’s just left her husband’s vigil, it would be a PR disaster. Let’s talk tomorrow, get us up to date on everything, I’ll talk to O’Brien, and if there’s cause enough to bring her in for a chat …”

“A chat? Chris, this bitch beat Cross over the head with a stiletto.”

“What?” She could actually hear him gulp.

“That’s how it looks from the autopsy photos. We don’t have the specifics yet but - ”

“Exactly, you don’t have the specifics. So tomorrow, when you do, this will all look a hell of a lot clearer. As it is, it’s midnight, it’s been a long week and there’s no need to rush this. We need to get it right this time.”

Maybe he was right, she thought, reluctantly acquiescing. He sounded tired, and she remembered what Kennedy had said earlier about some kind of doctor’s appointment.

“I guess you’re right, but if nothing else I hope you’re coming round to the idea that Queen Annabel is not the innocent flower you thought she was. Hey, you OK?” she added then. “Kennedy mentioned something about a doctor’s appointment.”

“The usual,” he said without going into detail, and she figured that his condition must have been playing up.

Chris suffered from the blood disorder hemochromotosis, which necessitated him having blood exanguined when the symptoms flared. She guessed the pain could have been the primary reason behind his mood lately, and felt a little guilty for being so hard on him.

“They take much?”

“A couple of pints this time,” he told her. “So you can imagine why I don’t exactly feel ready to go into battle at the moment. I just need a good nights’ rest. So do you. How’d your appointment go by the way? I hope you kept it.”

How in the hell did he remember that, when she’d needed her diary organizer to remind her?

Sometimes Chris Delaney really did surprise her.

“Good actually. I saw Blob for the first time.”

“Ah, that’s great. Such a big moment. Let me guess, restless as hell and kicking like a mad thing? Sounds like someone I know.”

She nodded, trying to fight back a sudden surge of emotion, and she wasn't sure if it was the mention of the ultrasound, or the gentle way Chris was discussing it.

“Pretty much.”

“Well then, go home and get some rest, and come back fighting tomorrow.”

“But - ”

“
Tomorrow,
Reilly. I’ll talk to you then.”

”
N
ot everyone remembers
, but this is not the first time the Morrisons have faced tragedy. Not at all.

At the peak of an illustrious career, filled with championship trophies and endless medals, and Annabel’s burgeoning media stardom, it seemed as though nothing could stop the couple’s shooting star.

But a horrible tragedy almost upended everything. Over two decades ago, Josh was involved in a tragic drunk-driving accident. He was the front seat passenger and by some miracle of fate, he survived.

But his best friend and Leinster team mate, Ian Cross was killed. Cross was heavily under the influence, and lost control of the car. Josh was belted in, Ian was not.

Happening not long after Annabel had given birth to their first child Dylan, the tragedy affected the couple deeply, and changed them forever.

Josh became a major public figurehead for abstinence, and still works tirelessly with the Road Safety Authority to promote safe driving, and as such, has always been a wonderful role model for teenage youth.

That's why it's such a shame to see them having to confront another tragedy just now. They've raised two great kids, have become a beacon for social issues and culture in this country, and have done everything to move past that dark chapter of their life. I'm sure they haven't forgotten about it, though. Horrible tragedy for anyone to go through.

But the Morrisons have so many times proved themselves to be a tenacious team.

They won't back down from anything. They certainly won't be backing down from this either. Hearing Annabel Morrison's brave and emotional speech tonight is testament to their strength and tenacity.

I predict Josh will be on top again sooner than we expect. And Annabel will be right there by his side. An amazingly brave and admirable couple. We at the studio, and certainly everyone in the country are praying with our friend and co-host, for her husband’s quick recovery."

T
he fish tank needed cleaning
. Not only had mildew--or algae--or whatever it was that was--collected along the corners and sides, but it started to discolor the Poseidon aquarium ornament inside.

The only fish left alive, a large goldfish Reilly called Nemo was three-weeks old and nearing the size of a tennis ball. She had to turn off the filter because the water had evaporated enough there was a gurgling sound when it was on. She didn't know when she'd have time to clean it out.

It required digging out the bucket, syphoning the water, disposing of the water, filling the tank again with pitcher after pitcher of dechlorinated water.

She began to wonder why she got a fish tank to begin with.

But it was a test of sorts, wasn't it? Something to prove that she was capable of taking care of something, thinking about its welfare, keeping it alive.

Gulp.

Now Reilly wondered why, at 2:10 in the morning she was so preoccupied with the fish tank. It really was a daylight hours sort of problem. There was actually very little she could do about it now.

There was little she could do about anything now. Yet so many things were entering her consciousness. Sure, the investigation.

But more too. The fact she needed to clean the fish tank and her car. An embarrassing amount of coffee cups had gathered in the backseat.

She also began wondering about the state of her desk at work. It, too, needed a thorough cleaning.

So many things needed cleaning at the moment. She was sure Dr. Corcoran would have a word or two to say about that.

She tried drinking some chamomile tea, but it didn't help.

Her mind was still racing, cataloging all the things she needed to do, didn't need to do. All of the things she should be worrying about.

Inevitably her thoughts returned to where they always did; the pregnancy.

It seemed if she were psychologically evaluating herself, that the pregnancy had overtaken the Tony Ellis thing in terms of traumatic things that had happened to her in the past month or so.

Of course, she was happy about the idea of a baby, but terrified about the reality of a baby.

There was so much she didn't know. How was she supposed to hold it? She remembered something about supporting their heads from behind. Should she breastfeed? Was there a knack to it? A book or something she should read?

She had no support, especially for those scary early days. Sure, she would have paid leave and all the wonderful benefits of the public health system, but what about after that? Who would take care of the kid during her crazy work hours?

Who would raise him or her to be a responsible adult? Surely that was something that was expected of her, but Reilly wasn't exactly raising-a-responsible-kid kind of material.

She was more of a forget-to-clean-the-fish-tank material. She would forget to do laundry for a week, so how the hell would she remember to do things like change diapers or sing lullabies.

Not a bad idea, she thought then. She skimmed through her iPhone and sought out Billy Joel's
Lullaby Song
. It was very soothing, but she was no more ready to sleep than before. It was past the point of looking at the time.

That would only prove exactly how desperate the situation had become.

In just a few short hours, she would have to convince her superiors to arrest Annabel Morrison for murder, and she hoped against hope that she had everything they needed. She thought of everything they’d discovered today, every connection, every scenario. Was it enough?

No point in thinking it about now. Chris was right; she needed to be fresh and coherent tomorrow. She needed to sleep.

But in order to do that she had to try and get out of her own brain.

She sighed heavily and tried some more chamomile. Then she made the mistake of looking at the clock. Three am. Almost automatically, she did some math in her head and figured out the equivalent time in Florida.

I could call Todd.

The thought entered her mind like a snake. Without the ability to block the idea, it began worming its way throughout her consciousness.

Before long it was all she could thing about.

Call him and tell him what? Hey, what’s happening? You’re about to be a dad by the way. No, it's all right, go ahead and get back to watching the game, just shootin’ the breeze.

Reilly felt ill. Her head was pounding. She was dehydrated, tired and feeling overly emotional. It was like she had been drinking all night, which of course she hadn't. But that same sort of sick and spinning feeling rushed through her. She felt hot and then cold. Then spontaneously began sweating.

The thought was anchored and seeded. It was blossoming into a full on idea with projected consequences. It was entering actual consideration.

Then before she realized what she was doing, she was opening FaceTime on her iPhone. She went to her contacts and saw Todd’s profile pic.

Kinda unshaven, dirty blond unkempt surfer hair. Dark features, light eyes. The little blue dot next to the picture was on.

Her fingers punched in a message, and before she could stop herself she sent it.

Hey

Maybe he won't see it, she thought. But right away, the dancing ellipses showed up.

Whoah, was just thinking about you! How's Dublin?

Not good now, big case.

I heard. Dublin’s OJ - without the dead body?

Kinda.

She stared at the text and wanted to add something conversational, just to let him know everything was okay, so he wouldn't know that she was flipping the hell out.

The pause took a long time apparently, because he typed some more.

It's late there now, isn't it?

Yeah, can't sleep.

Something wrong? Miss me maybe? ;)

Ugh. She hated emoticons. She didn't know what to type, but soon he typed again.

You want to talk?

And her thumbs went ahead without her again.
Sure.

Her FaceTime alert jumped out from the phone and she stared a moment or two before answering.

As she did, Todd’s tanned face appeared from what appeared to be his living room.

“Hey, you're looking …pale.”

She laughed in spite of herself and tried to adjust what must have been the disaster that was her hair.

"A week of insomnia," she explained, with a weak smile.

"I'm glad you called, really. I wasn't kidding; I’ve been thinking about you."

She nodded, deciding to get right to it. "Yeah. Look Todd, there's something I've been meaning to talk with you about."

"What is it? Everything OK?"

"I... well I've been thinking a lot recently too and … that night -”

“I know, I know. We should have talked about it. I’m sorry, but things got so crazy … with Bradley and the case … I hope you're not saying you regretted anything. I mean I certainly don't."

You might soon
.

"Listen, Todd, it's not that I'm regretting it--or anything like that, I'm just. Look, I need to tell you something?"

"What is it? Everything OK?"

"Yeah, I think so. I mean I hope so. Listen, Todd...I'm... um. I'm pregnant."

His stunned face first started bright and congratulatory, and then it sank in. Blue eyes lowered, face pale and then he blurted, “You're pregnant? Or ...wait, do you mean …?”

She just nodded, trying to wipe away the rush of emotion coming from behind her eyes.

"How...wait... how?"

"The usual way," she said, in poor taste. “We weren't exactly thinking straight that night. Look, it's okay, I mean I'm not asking anything from you. I just thought you should know."

More weight came down as the news really started to sink in.

“Jesus … we’re having a baby."

"Let's be honest, Todd.
I’m
having a baby.”

"What? Are you saying you don't want me involved?"

"I'm saying that it's complicated. I mean, you and I - it was nice, but … I can't imagine--or didn't expect it to be a life-long thing."

“Well, it kind of
is
a life-long thing now, Reilly, isn't it? I absolutely want to be involved in this kid's life. Not just involved - I mean, I want to
be
a father."

"I don't know how that will be possible."

"We'll make it possible, OK? We'll find a way. We can do that much, can't we?"

"You shouldn't feel obligated..."

"Obligated? Reilly, you and I are going to have a child. How could I not feel obligated. I am entirely obligated. You have to know, you are not on your own with this. I won't let you be on your own. I'll find a way. I'm not saying you have to be with me or even
like
me, but I am saying we can do this together. Somehow, we can do this together."

She smiled. "That's very sweet, Todd. But we need to be realistic. We're in opposite time zones for Chrisssakes."

"I'll find a way. But for now, there's FaceTime. OK? And you can tell me everything that's happening. I want to know everything, OK? I want to know blood pressure, I want to see ultrasounds.”

He was getting very excited now, a bit frantic. And that kind of worried her.

"Okay, Todd. I get it. Look, I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner, it’s nine weeks and just… I guess I just wasn't ready to admit it was real. I couldn't really come to terms with it."

"You don't have do this alone, Reilly. I'll be there. In every way that I can. So will Dad."

She grimaced, pushing away the emotions. “Oh God. He’ll hate me.”

“Are you serious? He’s going to be thrilled! He already thinks of you as family, always preferred you to me.”

Her emotion subsided with a sentimental laugh. "OK, so what now?"

"Now, you keep the channel open. I know you're in the middle of this big case, but as soon as it's over, we need to talk this through. We need to start making some plans. I'll find a way to get out there soon."

“I see," she said, and fell quiet for a time. "Todd?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

He kissed the camera and smiled at her, "Try to get some sleep, Steel. You look like shit."

“Oh, now the truth comes out," she laughed.

"Night, Reilly," he said smiling fondly at her.

“Night Todd."

She hung up and collapsed back onto the bed, looking at the ceiling.

The results of that call were completely unexpected, and had succeeded in overriding much of her anxiety.

That one call. Now, she could focus on the case.

And with luck, on sleep.