Things Go Pear Shaped

Olivia arrived at a local park. She had been there often to paint. The last time she had been there she had noticed a beautiful pear tree and decided it would make a wonderful addition to her new series. As she approached it, she gasped. A man was hanging from one of the branches. She ran towards the tree and her heart stopped as she realized who it was: her uncle. She screamed and ran back to her car. She sped to Rachel’s office, hoping she would be there and not at the police station or a crime scene. Sure enough, she saw Rachel’s car parked in front of the building. She ran inside, not caring that her car was parked in front of a fire hydrant. She tried to go straight into the inner office, but Victoria protested, saying, “Miss! You can’t go in there! She’s with a client right now!”

Olivia ignored her and was about to reach the door knob, but Victoria grabbed her arm. There was a moment of silence where Rachel could be heard from the other side of the wall arguing with a client.

“Mrs. Fredrickson, just because I proved that your son isn’t leading a double life, doesn't mean that you don’t have to pay me,” she could be heard saying.

There was an inaudible response from Mrs. Fredrickson.

“No, I am not incompetent. I followed him for two weeks, just like you asked. In that time I saw nothing suspicious at all. He behaves like a completely normal adult man!”

Another unintelligible response.

“I can think of many reasons why he doesn’t want to spend time with you anymore, namely, this conversation we’re having now!”

Mrs. Fredrickson seemed to be silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry. I know that was unprofessional. Please don’t cry. Here, have a tissue. It’s just that I need to be paid so I can pay my assistant. She has a family and I have to pay my rent. I did what you asked. There’s nothing going on with your son,” she said apologetically.

Another response, louder, but still unintelligible.

“Mrs. Fredrickson! Look, just because you didn’t get the results you wanted, doesn’t mean I did something wrong! If anyone is in the wrong here, it’s you! I took two weeks out of my time to follow your perfectly normal son just because you don’t want to cut your apron strings, and now you refuse to pay me!”

Another response.

“Good day Mrs. Fredrickson, my lawyer will be in touch!”

With that, the door opened and a small, indignant, old woman (presumably Mrs. Fredrickson) walked out quickly. She opened the front door and stood long enough to give a “Humph!” and slammed the door. The moment she was gone, Victoria and Olivia, confused and speechless, looked back to see Rachel standing in the doorway, red in the face. Without acknowledging them, she turned back and slammed the door. They heard her give a scream of frustration, a few seconds of loud rapid breaths, and then a long sigh. She opened the door again and addressed Victoria, saying, “I hate people. This,” she paused as if trying to censor herself, “woman made me follow her son for two whole weeks because she thought he was leading a double life. He’s not. He’s perfectly normal. I took two weeks out of my time to follow the most boring man on the face of the earth! Just cause this woman thinks she still gets to control her forty-three year old son. And now she doesn’t want to pay us.” She suddenly noticed Olivia. “What are you doing here? Did I leave something at home?”

Olivia’s amazement faded and she lapsed back into a panic. “No! At the park! My uncle!”

“Your uncle? But he’s in jail.”

“No. He’s dead. Hanging from a pear tree!” The realization hit her and she burst into tears.

Rachel and Victoria gasped. Rachel hugged her and Victoria called Captain Andrews.

They arrived at the park the same time as the police. Olivia led them to the pear tree, but when they arrived, there was nothing there. Her uncle was gone and despite their searching, the police couldn’t find any evidence that anyone had been hanged. Olivia began crying again.

“I know he was here! He was there,” she pointed to one of the branches, “dead. I know it! I swear he was here!”

“Are you sure? I mean, I know this is a difficult time for you. He was arrested a year or so ago,” Rachel suggested.

Olivia’s face darkened. “I know what I’m talking about. He’s dead and I saw him. It has nothing to do with that.”

Rachel backed off.

“Miss Peterson,” Captain Andrews began, “there isn’t any evidence here that anyone was hanged, let alone your uncle. Maybe Rachel is --” Rachel gave him a look to shut him up, “We’ll see what we can do. The best I can do for you right now is call the warden and see if your uncle is still there.”

“I’m telling you, he won’t be there. He’s dead and I saw him.”

“That's all I can do.”

Olivia’s face fell. “Y-you do believe me? Right?”

They gave no response.

“Right?” she asked again less confidently.

Still no response. They looked at the ground.

“Fine,” she said harshly, her face darkening, “I’m leaving. Don’t wait up for me, Rachel.”

She stormed off. Rachel and the captain didn’t look up. “Could it get worse?” she asked quietly.

“I hope not.”

They made their way back to the parking lot in silence. “It just did,” she said, looking at Olivia’s empty parking spot, “I need a ride.”