Chapter 25

Suzi fell asleep, frustration gnawing at her. The elusive answers danced just out of reach, slipping through her fingers like smoke. Her mind churned with questions, a relentless loop that refused to let her rest:

What happened to Dr. Adamson?

Who shot Ygritte?

Who kidnapped and beat Aiden to death?

Why had Ruth and Owen abandoned him so easily?

Why was she chosen as a celestial?

WHEN was she chosen as a celestial?

What exactly were her powers?

Was the first demon now residing in Aiden’s mind?

And those ancient trinkets—what secrets did they hold?

How on earth was she supposed to hurl a 30-pound cannonball?

Where could she hide it and how was she supposed to keep it safe?

Who else knew about her?

Her sleep was fitful, disturbed by Ygritte’s insistent licking. Suzi tried to fend off the 50-pound Pitbull with a pillow, but the pup’s playful paws persisted. Reluctantly, she surrendered, donned pajama pants and a long coat, and trudged downstairs for Ygritte’s early-morning business.

The cold slapped her awake, and Suzi wished someone else could handle this chore. The streets were deserted, the snow refusing to accumulate beyond a dusting. She found solace in the pristine powder, a serenity that belied the chaos within her mind. Winter—Aiden’s favorite season—made her think of him and that ill-fated snowball that hit Maeve square in the face.

“Speaking of throwing things… did you notice that the ball was missing from the bed?” Judith’s voice echoed in Suzi’s head.

“The ball? You mean the pellet? Did it roll onto the floor?”

“Not exactly,” Judith replied, her tone dry.

“Do I want to know?” She sighed heavily, and her breath instantly froze.

“I have taken possession of it,” Judas announced.

“How have you taken possession of it?” Suzi pressed.

“Same as the blade. I’ve absorbed it for future use.”

“Wait. What? Those things are inside us—er, me?” Suzi’s acceptance came with a resigned shrug. What else could surprise her now?

“Of a sense,” Judas confirmed.

“Interesting. Why didn’t we absorb more of them, like that gold bracelet at the cargo bay?” Suzi probed.

“Each item exacts a toll. The blade is corrupted; the pellet is equally blessed. Balance matters. The pellet remains unusable until we learn how to wield it. But its blessed power will counterbalance the corrupted blade.”

“Wow. You can speak. I think that’s the most you’ve shared,” Suzi quipped, half-amused.

Silence.

“So, you wanted that bracelet. Why didn’t you absorb it then?” Suzi’s frustration bubbled.

“The bracelet is too powerful for us to absorb.”

“Now, see? ‘Grab the bracelet BECAUSE IT’S POWERFUL’ would have been helpful at the time,” Suzi chided her alter self.

“Uh-oh. Mom’s mad,” Annie chimed in.

Ygritte, done with her morning sprint, signaled her readiness to go inside. This timing was beneficial, as Suzi’s toes felt like they’d been frostbitten.

She crawled back in bed and tried to go to sleep, and would surmise that she did, but the next moment, she realized a light beam was striking her eyelids. She wanted to scream and throw a fit, as the universe conspired against her. She knew she had to get up to meet the family at the hospital before they left.

Suzi took a quick shower, surprised by her healed side. The stitches remained, a reminder of the violence she’d endured. She glanced at the mirror, recalling Phin’s comment about her hair. A purple ball cap would hide most of it—enough to make her look like a regular Unabomber. Not exactly the grunge style her Spike persona approved of, but it was a start.

She tended to her dog, kissed her goodbye, and bolted out the door. The hospital awaited—Reed, Rio, and Aiden’s parents. Her phone interrupted her thoughts.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“Hey, Detective Wilson. How does this fine day find you?” Suzi’s voice held a hint of optimism.

“You’re in a good mood, and rightfully so,” Phin replied. “We picked up Spencer Isaacs at the airport this morning. George and I are on our way to interrogate him now with his involvement with the attempted murder of your husband.”

“And my dog,” Suzi added, her anger simmering enough that she saw red, but not the red of the stop light. She did see the flashing red and blue lights in her rearview mirrors.

“Fuck. I’m getting pulled over.” She signaled, easing onto the shoulder.

“Driving and talking is dangerous,” Phin warned. “I’ll let you know what we find out from Isaacs.”

“Thanks, Phin. Think you can fix a ticket for me?”

“You in Naperville?”

“No. South Chicago.”

“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Poodle,” Suzi said sweetly, laughing as she parked Aiden’s truck and set the hazards.

Phineas growled angrily and hung up, and Suzi rolled down her window.

A veteran officer approached, assessing the truck. His younger and greener partner mirrored his steps on the opposite side.

“Good morning, ma’am,” the officer greeted her. Mid-40s, weathered.

“Hi, Officer,” Suzi replied, removing her sunglasses.

“Can you tell me why you failed to stop at that light?” His tone held a hint of reproach.

“I was talking to a detective friend,” Suzi explained. “News that made me angry—I guess I didn’t pay attention.”

“Not paying attention can cause accidents or even kill you,” he warned.

“Not us!” Annie chimed in.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Suzi stammered. “I’m actually a good driver. No tickets or accidents in 20 years. I’ll be more careful.”

“And who is your detective friend?” The officer probed.

“Well, he’s not MY friend. An acquaintance, really. More of a friend of a friend. Detective Phineas Wilson? Do you know him? He’s working on a missing person case I’m involved in. Well, I’m not INVOLVED in it, but I was there. I mean, I was a witness! I thought it was a murder case, but there was no body. He’s also working on my husband's attempted murder case, which might be connected.” Suzi realized she had diarrhea of the mouth and probably said too much. “I’m going to shut up now.”

“That’s your right, ma’am,” the officer said. “License, registration, and proof of insurance, please?”

She handed over the documents, surprised to find herself still registered as an owner on Aiden’s insurance. “Thank God!” Suzi thought.

“Aiden is…?” The officer inquired.

“My husband,” Suzi replied. “He was beaten nearly to death, left in Beverly Park, and is in a coma at South Hospital.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am.” The officer said, but his voice never softened. “Please turn off the vehicle while we run these records.”

As she waited, Suzi texted Reed and Rio. She’d be there soon, ticket or not. A second squad car pulled up behind the first.

“That’s never good,” her J persona observed.

In the rearview mirror, four officers huddled, their presence ominous.

Finally, the officer who took her license grabbed the radio from his car and said over the PA, “Ms. Burch, please step out of the vehicle with your hands up. Take two steps backward and place your hands on the side of the vehicle.”

Panic surged. Suzi’s phone lay within reach, but sudden movements could be fatal. She wouldn’t die—she was fairly certain—but she was sure it would still hurt like a motherfu—

“Ms. Burch, do you understand my request?” The PA crackled.

“Yes,” she called out through the window. She reached out, lifted the handle, and pushed open the door with her knee and hands raised. Two steps back, hands on the truck bed.

The officers closed in behind her. The one who took her ID instructed, “Put your hands behind your back, palms up and thumbs together.”

The cold metal of handcuffs clamped around her wrists. Tears welled up.

“Ms. Burch, this is Officer Garrett. She will search you, while the rest of us search your vehicle. Are there any weapons or contraband we will find?”

“No,” Suzi replied. “Wait. There are THC gummies in my purse, but that’s it. Why am I being arrested?”

“This truck was reported in a gang-related shooting last night,” the officer explained. “Perpetrator fits your description: purple cap, pink and grey hoodie.”

“Fuck my life,” Suzi muttered.

The officers opened all the truck doors.

A female officer introduced herself as Officer Garrett. “Do you have any weapons on your person or any needles in your pockets that might stick me as I search you?”

“We have a knife and a 30-pound bowling ball IN our person if that counts,” the smart-ass Ralph persona said.

“No. Nothing in my pockets.”

The pat-down was thorough and professional.

“I have to say, you don’t look 46,” Officer Garrett observed.

“Thanks. That’ll benefit me in jail, I’m sure,” Suzi retorted.

The other officers placed a gun and a bag of powder on the truck bed.

“Can you explain these?” the first officer asked.

“No. I can’t. Those are not mine and I can’t believe they’re my husband’s either.”

“Was this vehicle ever not within your possession in the last 16 hours?”

“I had the keys all night.” Suzi thought, staring at the side of the truck. “Actually, I can prove that the truck was never moved all night.”

“How’s that?” the officer asked.

“Dash cam footage.”

“We checked the dash cam. There is no flash card, so no recording.”

“Fuck. I never got it back from Tom,” she thought to herself. “Okay then. Security footage at my apartment. The SNOW! I walked my dog early this morning, and the fresh snow was not disturbed!”

“Ma’am, is there anything else you’d like to admit to before you are taken into custody?”

“Admit to?” She tried to turn to face the officers, who were all behind her.

Officer Garrett gently, but forcefully put her hand on Suzi’s shoulder and kept her from turning.

“I didn’t admit to anything. I ran a stop light, and that is it!” Suzi continued.

“Are you willing to sign a sworn affidavit to this fact?”

“Yes! Hell yes!” Suzi exclaimed.

“Excellent. Did you get that?” the officer asked.

“Did I get what?” Suzi said, confused.

She heard a voice, and some snickering from the officers behind her. She turned to be face to phone, on a video chat with Phineas.

“Now we have you on video admitting you ran that light. Please don’t call me ‘Poodle.’ I don’t want to have to shoot you.”

Suzi seethed.

Before she could find the words to cuss Detective Wilson out, he said, “Officer Garrett, please release this woman and send her on her way. I think she’s learned her lesson.”

The video chat blinked out, leaving her surrounded by chuckling officers.

Officer Garrett removed the cuffs, her touch both gentle and firm. “Phineas despises that nickname,” she confided. “Tom uses it to rile him up. Trust me, he’d definitely shoot you if you pushed it.”

The other officers retrieved the gun and bag of powder.

Suzi’s curiosity gnawed at her. “What does it mean?” she asked Officer Garrett.

“I’ve known Phineas for twelve years,” the officer explained. “We used to date, but it never panned out. We’re still good friends, though. That nickname is their private joke—one they’ll take to their graves.”

The veteran officer returned her ID and information, “Please drive safe, ma’am.”

Suzi’s squinted glare and nod conveyed her feelings.

“Take care, Ms. Burch. Please be safe,” Officer Garrett echoed.

The other officers waved, and Suzi took a deep breath. “Lesson learned.”