Granger's Threat. Teresa Pijoan

had to pull him from Rio Grodno. There was a motorcycle fatality up there about two hours ago. Not pretty at all, but then motorcycle accidents are nasty especially when no one was wearing a helmet or protective gear.” The young man explained, “But doc should be here any minute. They have it all wrapped up and the cops are cleaning the street.”

      The radio squawked on the young paramedic’s belt. He clicked it off. “The doc wants us to go ahead and do photos and draw up the scene. Do you want to come and observe or hide out here?”

      The sheriff’s deputy frowned, “No, you go on in, I’ll wait for the M.E. Then I’ll start interviewing the family.”

      The two paramedics were invited into the house by Margaret. They followed her down the hall. They noticed her tailored wool jumper with the expensive red cashmere sweater. Her hair, flecked with gray was neatly combed and had been curled under to a perfect page-boy. Her black shoes complimented her gray skirt and were polished to a sparkling sheen. The floor of red tiles had been recently swept and the smell of lemon polish wafted in the air.

      Once the bedroom door was opened, the air was heavy with stale body odor. Both paramedics stepped back as if hit with a hurricane wind. “Whoa, there he is. You know no matter how many times we do this the foul smell is something I’ll never get used to, the air freshener doesn’t help.” The younger paramedic with the wavy red hair wrinkled up his nose. The older paramedic in his sixties pulled two white paper masks from his handheld black kit. “Here, put this on, Doug.”

      Doug turned to glare at his partner. “Hey, the wife’s right behind you, Fred.”

      Fred shook his head to mumble under his breath, “She knows, Doug, she already knows.” The men walked into the bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind them. Margaret sniffed as the door closed in front of her face. She returned to the kitchen. She sat on the counter stool and dialed Sophia’s phone number.

      The phone rang six times. “Sophia, it’s your mother, dear.” Margaret gritted her teeth.

      “Mom, this isn’t a good time!” Sophia pulled on her brown robe as if her perfect mother could see through the phone. “Geoffrey and I are late getting the girls ready for school. We’re running around all over trying to find clean pink socks for Donna!” Sophia dropped the phone only to catch it in midair. “Oh, Mom, I will be there around ten to help with dad, don’t worry. It’s my day to wash him. Is everything all right?”

      Margaret took a deep breath, “Sophia, your father is dead. He is cold stone dead. You need to get over here and stop running around.” Abruptly, Margaret hung up the phone.

      2

      Rocoso, New Mexico

      Thursday, January, 1988

      Sophia hung up the phone. She fell back onto a kitchen chair. The kitchen table was covered with dripping cereal bowls, half eaten pieces of toast smeared with strawberry jam. “Geoffrey!”

      Geoffrey came hurrying down the hall into the kitchen. “What? What’s the matter?” His tall frame hurried past her to reach for his black coffee container by the sink. Breathlessly drinking in the coffee, he added, “You do know your six-year old daughter Donna absolutely doesn’t want to go to school today because she doesn’t have any pink socks like her friend Carrie? You know this right?” Glancing at Sophia, Geoffrey put the coffee container down. “What is it? Sophia, what’s wrong?”

      Sophia shook her head tears falling down her cheeks to the table. “Geoffrey, they did it. They did it, they killed him.”

      Geoffrey sat in the kitchen chair next to her. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, he studied her face. Her brown hair was curly in total disarray. Her high cheek bones and brown eyes were filled with distress.

      “They, you mean Granger and your mother?” His big hands clasped the black coffee mug, “But, Sophia, he was getting better. The doc said the new Parkinson’s meds were helping him. They found he was able to move his fingers. He was trying to move his lips to speak. Why would they kill him now?” Geoffrey reached over to push Sophia’s short bangs away from her eyebrows. “Wouldn’t it be obvious if they killed him now that he was getting better?”

      Sophia sat back, wiping her nose with a dirty napkin. Her eyes pleaded with him to understand, “Geoffrey, they were already spending his money, you know that? Mom, wanted to buy Granger the house on the hill.” Loud voices diverted their attention to the back bedrooms.

      Geoffrey lifted his lanky body up from the kitchen chair. He rubbed his head as was his sign of distress. His blue eyes peered out through his glasses, “Sophia, I will take the girls to school. We better get a move on it.” He gingerly rubbed her back and arms, “Don’t let your brother know you know what happened.”

      As an afterthought Geoffrey shook his head, “Sophia, how can you be sure? Your father was in bad shape for the last two years. He was almost a vegetable last month until the doc found the new medicine, wasn’t he?”

      Sophia leaned forward in the kitchen chair to start rocking back and forth, “Geoffrey, he wasn’t ready to die. He was fighting for his life. He was fighting.”

      “Sophia, sooner or later you would’ve had to let go of him. He treated you terribly when you were a child. If it wouldn’t have been for you and the nurse he wouldn’t have had a chance in hell.” Geoffrey pulled her up into his embrace. “Don’t beat yourself up. What’s done is done, but for the love of God, please,” He lifted her face to his, “don’t let them know you believe they killed him! Please!”

      Sophia stared through his glass lenses into his eyes, “ Geoffrey, they are my family. I can’t lie to them. I hate lies. I hate all of this!” She pushed away from him, hugging her arms around her waist.

      “Sophia, we’re your family now. We are! The girls and I love you! You are our life, too! You can’t go to the viper’s den and tell the truth. It will come back to bite you!”

      “Dad,” their nine year old daughter Sybil stood in the hall, “Dad, what’s going on?”

      Geoffrey put his arms around Sophia, hugging her into his chest. He spoke to Sybil over Sophia’s right shoulder, “Sybil, grandpa died last night and your mother’s upset. I’m going to take you and Donna to school. Please see to your sister. She needs to have her backpack and her jacket. You need to help me with her this morning, all right?”

      Sybil pouted, “Sure, Dad, whatever!” Sybil disappeared down the hallway. Sophia wiped her nose on a napkin. Strawberry jam stuck to her cheek. “Well, I have to clean this up and then myself. Thanks, Geoffrey, for the advice. I will just go and observe. It is important for me to be there and help Mom, I suppose. Although...”

      “Just go, call me later. Here come my girls!” Geoffrey took Donna’s pink princess backpack from Sybil’s hand. Donna had obviously been crying. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were flushed. Sophia knelt down to zip up her pink jacket. “Donna, wow, you will be the only girl in First Grade with yellow socks. Stand tall and be proud!”

      Donna stared at her ankles, “Mom, they aren’t yellow! They’re yellowish!” Geoffrey wrapped his arms around Donna’s small waist to lift her up to his shoulder. “All right, the magic van is leaving! We shall all return here later for the Star Ship Enterprise lift off!”

      Sophia took Sybil’s hand, “You look lovely today, Sybil. How do you like your new green jacket?”

      Sybil pulled the zipper to her chin, “I like it just fine, Mom.” Sybil yanked her black backpack strap higher on her shoulder. “Mom, I am sorry about Grandpa, but he was a mean man. He never liked Donna or me much. To be honest, Mom, you are over there all the time and Daddy doesn’t cook anything but macaroni and cheese. We’re beginning to turn orange.”

      Sybil rubbed her nose, “Mommy, does this mean you will be home more?”

      “Sybil, you are my number one girl and sometimes I have had to count on you to take care of things, but you know this