O'Connell Bridge - Pt. 2

Caitlin put her bare feet on the coffee table. “Whoever writes text books should be shot.”

The two women residents on the first floor were beginning their day.

Betty Jo stood in front of the bathroom mirror combing her long, blond hair. “You registered for the class. Deal with it.”

“Did you know that Freud wrote that humor and desire were related?”

“Ooh, that reminds me Cait, I forgot to ask, girl, did you see LC this morning?”

“No ma’am,” was the short answer, after a pause she said, “I saw that his room was empty before I drifted off; you know while we were playing that stupid game, and his door was closed when I woke up. I assumed he came in while we were asleep. Why?”

“Oh, he was pale, too pale, I mean paler than his unusual work all night pale. I woke for just a second but I saw him collapse onto his bed, then get up, go to the bathroom, and then close his door. I hope he’s not sick or something.”

“Could be. Working in the emergency room he’s bound to pick up a bug. Although to hear him talk, he deals mostly with crime and accident victims.” Caitlin turned her attention to her textbook. She was a third year student at UNCW but planned to graduate after the upcoming fall semester. “Speaking of work, are you working today?”

“No, but I have brunch shift tomorrow and am staying through lunch, probably low on tips.” Betty pulled at a knot in the straight long hair. “Just going to Jiffy Lube to get oil changed.”

Caitlin fumed. “You know, they oughta give you some of the high tip nights too. Not hardly fair you always working the low tip shifts.”

“Well, that’d be nice, but not having to deal with drunks is somewhat appealing.”

Caitlin’s mood changed. “You mean you don’t like the attention some of the guys give a tall blond with a generous bust line?”

Betty Jo looked around the corner of the bathroom door. “At the luncheon and brunch I get love pats from old men; I don’t know which is worse.”

“We need to get you a lawyer and sue some of these dimwits.”

“Sure, start suing customers and managers,” Betty Jo paused, “Better sue the lawyers too; they’re the worst. I even had a judge’s wife make a pass at me the other day.”

“Take Kung Fu classes at Cape Fear.”

Betty Jo grimaced and brushed another tangle from her hair. “Good idea.” She then pulled her long hair back and tied with a Scrunchie. “You oughta come down to the restaurant. I know Doug would hire you. Just do a couple of days or something.”

“No thanks. Studying is my job. And, as long as Aunt Tess is footing the bill, I see no reason to break the norm. Besides, I’m too short to be carrying plates around.”

Betty Jo bounced out of the bathroom and flopped onto the couch next to Caitlin. “Missy, the bartender, is just five foot. Remote?”

“Cushions.”

Betty Jo felt between the cushions and eventually retrieved the television remote. “You’re at least a good three or four inches taller than her.”

“There’s nothing on Saturday,” Caitlin complained. “TV is trash. I don’t know why we pay for cable.”

Betty Jo laughed. “Netflix, my dear.”

“Haven’t you seen every movie?”

“Most of them, but I’m watching a couple of series.”

Caitlin stretched and stood, “Going to the bedroom to study. Go ahead and burn your brain on mindless drivel.”

Betty laughed and the television sound filled the room.

Caitlin stopped and looked out the window. “LC’s back,” she shouted over the television. “I need to talk to him.” She quickly put a napkin in her text book for a mark, looked in the mirror, sprayed on some Bulgari Splendia cologne, pulled down her t-shirt, and ran out the front door.

“I’ll leave the door unlocked,” Betty shouted after Caitlin.

Seconds later Caitlin climbed the stairs to LC’s apartment. “Hey,” she said when she swung the door open.

Arthur looked up from the kitchen. “He’s in his room. Knock before you go in, he might be naked or something.”

Caitlin grinned. “Maybe I oughta take a chance and push through.” Instead she knocked on LC’s door. “Hey LC,” she yelled.

The door jerked open. “Hey Cait, come on in, leave the door open.” He spread a sheet out on his twin bed and poured out the envelope. “Look.” He arranged the notes until they formed the words: “O’Connell Bridge 2200 June 30 Before I DIE.”

Caitlin looked over the notes. “Is this a joke?” She spread the letters out. “Or you have a secret lover willing to throw herself off a bridge unless you do something.”

“I got the same message written across the sports page in the morning paper. Are you sure it’s a ‘her?’ Maybe it’s a threat?”

Caitlin’s mouth dropped open. “No way. I mean that’s impossible.” She was bent over the bed and glanced up at LC, “Have you told Mike?”

“Yeah, I saw him this morning.” He took a deep breath. “Love your cologne.”

“Thanks, it’s Bulgari Splendia Rose, glad you like it,” she grinned and spun in a circle; “but I’m glad to see that you’re still in one piece.” Caitlin pretended to look him over. “Do I need to check for cuts and bruises? Or have you already been released from the hospital?”

LC pretended to sniff her while she was looking over his body.

“Quit that.”

He gathered up the notes. “Hey, Mike. Like he was cool, almost friendly, at least he talked to me and told me to text him if I found out anything.”

“Who else knows?”

“You, Murphy, and Arthur.” He paused, ”Oh, and Suzi at Waffle House. At least she knows about the newspaper. She said the people who left the paper talked funny.”

“She’s probably already forgotten what she saw and told you. I bet she talks to a thousand customers per day.”

“Yeah, probably. I’ll ask her Monday. At least if she remembered anything more about who was sitting in that booth.”

“Good luck with that. LC, unless they left a hundred dollar tip she might not even remember coming to work.”

“They left her a buck. Like, we talked about it, and she had the ticket, maybe she will remember something.” LC yawned and raised his arms to stretch.

Caitlin’s face flushed, and she waved her hand in front of her nose. “LC, when’s the last time you bathed?”

“That bad?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll hop in the shower and then we can go get a beer with late lunch. I’m not on again until Monday night. Think about where we can go.” LC pulled off his shirt. “Are you leaving?”

“I thought I’d stand here and watch.”

He threw the dirty shirt in her face and hurried through to the bathroom. Several minutes later LC yelled. “Cait come in here, the door’s unlocked.”

Caitlin giggled. “Thought you’d never ask.” She pushed open the bathroom door and LC was standing with a towel wrapped around him. On the steamed up mirror were the words “O’Connell Bridge 2200 June 30 Before I DIE.” Caitlin looked up at her friend. “You didn’t write that, did you?”

“Arthur,” LC yelled.

A minute later the tired eyed roommate emerged from his room. “What?”

“Did you write that?”

“Man, I rarely come in this disgusting room. I shower at Planet Fitness, cause you know, you’ve got stuff growing in there. You and Big Mac need to clean up this cesspool before I come in and have to clean it officially next Friday. I swear the toilet only gets cleaned when I do it every third week.” Arthur glanced at the fading letters. “The short answer is No.”

“Okay, okay, go back to your cave. I’ll clean it.”

Arthur continued. “And look, I didn’t write that but no doubt one of yours or Mac’s lady friends was so offended by this room they took the time to write on your mirror between the grease and toothpaste spatter.” He stomped off to his room and slammed the door.

Caitlin giggled. “I don’t think he did it. Put some clothes on—you promised me a beer. Or better yet, just stand there naked for awhile longer.”

“Leave.” He pointed to the door.

She left the room but made a grab for the towel as she passed. LC pushed her out the door while scrambling to hold on to the towel.

A couple of minutes later he came out to the kitchen. “Let’s go.”

Caitlin stood up and sniffed him. Although she stood only a little over chest high she pretended to give him a full sniff test. “Old Spice?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“You may feed me now.”

“Don’t get your hopes up; I said a beer, meaning one. I gotta text Mike.”

“If your truck is unlocked I’ll wait there.”

LC tossed her the keys. “Don’t steal it.”

Caitlin skipped down the stairs, opened LC’s truck and climbed into the passenger side. LC followed almost immediately so Caitlin stuffed the key in the ignition and started the truck.

When LC got in she asked. “So?”

“So Mike is going to meet us at Camino Real.”

“Cool, you can buy me a margarita.”

“One beer.” LC put the truck in gear. “We need to talk to Mike and at least he’s willing.”

Caitlin leaned back against the door. “No fist fights, okay.” Her short cut auburn hair had a white streak in the front, which she habitually pushed away from her freckled face.

“I think Mike is cooled off. At least he didn’t take a swing at me last time, and he seemed reasonable.”

“Better hope so, I don’t want to haul you home from the hospital again.”

LC didn’t respond, just stared straight ahead.

“World to LC, did you hear me?” Caitlin scooted more sideways in her seat and leaned on the door.

“Sorry, just thinking about the threats. I mean, did I tell you about Bambi, I mean Brenda, trying to take a contract out on me?”

Caitlin’s face dropped. “You’re kidding.”

“That’s what Mike said. She even offered one of her brothers’ ten grand to do me in. I’m thinking maybe all this is related.”

“You ought to have her arrested.”

LC shook his head. “Hearsay. Mike said that she said, and I’m not sure if it was actually to her brother or to Mike with a threat. Or Mike just blowing smoke. With her Italian relatives I have halfway been looking over my shoulder anyway.”

“We should go to the Virgin Islands and hide. I know a cool bar on St. Croix that would conceal us. And we could find a building in Frederiksted to renovate and remain unknown to the world.”

“I can only afford one beer. I can’t even justify the gas to go to the beach. Now, you want to hide in the Caribbean. Whoever is sending me notes should realize there is like no way can I afford to park my truck at the airport, much less fly to Ireland.”

“I could loan you some of my allowance from Aunt Tess.”

“Sheesh, why am I buying you a beer then?”

“Gee, cause you’re a nice guy?” She started to punch him in the arm, but hesitated. “If you’re short, I’ll pay for my own.”

She could obviously see LC’s face flush. “Oops,” she said under her breath.

LC turned up the radio and they rode silently to Murrayville Station office park and the restaurant. LC parked and he led Caitlin into the family Mexican Restaurant. Mike was already seated with a pitcher of beer in front of him.

“Hello Cait,” he said in a condescending tone. He and Caitlin had cross words shorty after LC’s broken nose.

“Mike,” she responded. “Been awhile. Punching anyone in the family lately?”

“Yeah, busy slapping mouthy secretaries around. Interested in a job?”

“Mike, stop being a douche.” LC crossed his arms.

Mike motioned. “Sit down, LC you too. While she’s a might prettier, I can always tape her mouth shut; you, I’ll have to deal with. So, what’s happened now? Like this is the third time you’ve called in 24 hours.”

“Same message as before, but on my bathroom mirror. I stepped out of the shower and there it was. Arthur was in his room and Cait was watching TV. Arthur swears he didn’t do it.”

Mike fiddled with a napkin. I talked to Brenda.” He looked over at Caitlin. “Bambi changed her name.”

LC thought perhaps Caitlin was about to say something catty, but finally she said, “LC told me.”

She swears she didn’t do it, though she thought it was an interesting idea. Not sure if she was talking about the possibility of you moving part or the die part.”

LC picked up a chip. “Well since my job barely pays my rent, truck payment and tuition, I’d say the death part seems more practical.”

“LC,” Caitlin barked. “Don’t be absurd. A couple of mysterious notes don’t point to a homicide.”

Mike poured beers for the two newcomers. “She’s right you know. You two want anything to eat?”

Caitlin looked at LC and mouthed “Tacos.”

“Get a plate of three tacos, Mike,” LC pointed at the menu.

Mike held up the menu and a waitress appeared instantly. “Three tacos, please.”

The waitress turned and walked into the kitchen.

Mike topped off the beers. “Back to the issue. No clues who’s sending the messages?”

LC shook his head.

“Can you tell if it’s male or female?” Mike stared at Caitlin.

“I think it’s female,” offered Caitlin. “Not many guys have the romantic genes to write short, cute notes like that. They would just knock on the door and hit you in the head with a ball bat or something.“ She thought a second. “Although many men write great love letters.” She looked at LC. “Hint. This ‘or I die’ stuff is definitely female; tragic ends like this practically scream Juliet.”

LC pointed with his beer mug. “What’s romantic about it? Somebody wants to kill me or wants me to prevent them or someone from being killed.”

“I really seriously doubt that.” Caitlin waved a chip at him. “It’s an euphuism; I think maybe it’s an old girlfriend messing with your head. Or maybe a wanna-be girlfriend trying catch your interest.”

LC frowned. “Susan got married, lives in Wilson. I dated her in high school and for a couple of months after. Brook was a two-date, seeya situation last summer; and I haven’t had a real date since. Well, there was Keri, oh.” He paused. “She was nuts, but I think she’s dating most of the soccer team now. Mostly, I just have a beer with friends.”

“How about that white haired girl?” Mike asked.

LC blushed. That was Marsha, we couldn’t figure out if she wanted to be with Mac or me. We finally had to run her off last fall when she decided to be domestic and wanted us evict Arthur, so she could move in. The only other strange woman to kiss me in over six months is our elderly Aunt Ann and lips on the cheek from an eighty year old doesn’t really count; LC chuckled. “Honestly, nobody else.”

“Nobody at work, like some cute nurse?” Mike began to scoot out of the booth.

LC shook his head. The shift I work, the drunks are mean, the women are scarier, and most of the nurses are built like construction workers and all are armed to the teeth. We deal with overdoses, car wrecks, and bar fights. Welcome to the world of emergency medicine third shift.”

Mike motioned to LC, and then spoke toward Caitlin. “LC and I are going up to the bar to talk some family business, big event coming up. Order anything you want, I’m buying.” He filled her beer glass with the remains of the pitcher.

Caitlin looked giddy. “Cool, you boys run along, I’ll sit back and enjoy my taco.”

Mike and LC scooted out of the booth and walked to the bar. LC ordered a Pepsi and Mike a cup of coffee. Caitlin looked at the menu and then hailed the waitress. “Bring me a burrito and rice. Oh, and a frozen margarita – a big one.” The restaurant was famous for its 22-ounce margaritas.

Two hours later, she smiled as Mike and LC each took an arm, leaving half of a third margarita on the table and virtually carried her to LC’s truck.

LC called to Mike. “Hey man, thanks for dinner and advice. I’ll work it out. Tell Willie we can get together whenever.”

“I’ll let you know,” Mike’s deep voice echoed in the night air.

LC leaned across Caitlin and fastened her seat belt and closed the door. She stroked the back of his head. A few seconds later, LC slid into the seat and the vehicle began moving toward the apartment house. Although the trip into town was quick, LC called Betty Jo with his cell phone and asked that the door be unlocked. When they got to the apartment, Caitlin awoke. LC reached across her to undo her belt and clumsily picked her up to carry into the apartment.

“Oh this fun,” she giggled and gripped LC’s neck.

“I’ll just put her in the bedroom,” LC said to Betty Jo. LC was walking blindly and bumped the door jam and numerous pieces of furniture while moving through the apartment.

LC carefully placed her head on a pillow, unsnapping the top button of her jeans and hoisting her legs onto the bed. The coolness of a sheet was draped over her. She kept her grip on LC’s neck and kissed him profusely. “I need you to hold me.”

“Might want to put a waste basket next to the bed,” LC’s voice echoed in the doorway. Betty Jo was standing, watching the operation and turned and ran into the kitchen. There was a loud clatter from the other room.

Betty Jo returned a minute later, “Here, use this mop bucket.” Caitlin continued to hold on to LC. “I love you LC. Tell me you love me.”

“Yes, Cait, I love you, now, lay down and go to sleep.”

She kissed him again. “I’m not yer 80-year-old aunt, so if I felt better, you know.”

“I know, Cait,” LC loosed his grip.

Caitlin moaned, “LC, thank you. I love you.” A second later she deposited the evening meal and drinks into the waiting bucket.

To be continued...