The Consultant: A supernatural thriller by Sean Oliver

Author:Sean Oliver [Oliver, Sean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-08T22:00:00+00:00

FORTY-ONE

“GEORGE?”

She was up about a half hour before she usually got out of bed to put on George’s coffee. Rosemary no doubt rolled over to an empty bed, thus the investigation.

“Bathroom,” he replied. Sunlight was just beginning to win its daily fight. He hadn’t gone back to bed since waking a few hours earlier. He’d dozed for a few minutes downstairs in his office chair, but that position was not conducive to staying relaxed for long, much less asleep. So he’d gone in the shower, having started the morning with a stiff neck an hour before he even needed to be awake.

He noted the pronounced bags under his eyes as he watched himself button his shirt in the mirror. The coffee would get him going.

“Up early, huh?” Rose asked from the bedroom. George returned something guttural, just short of a word. Rose usually didn’t require the other end of a conversation, so any utterance was sufficient. He listened from the bathroom as she headed out of the bedroom and down the hallway, discussing the temperature of the house with herself.

George began to put on his necktie, still looking into the mirror. As often as he averted his eyes from the thick scab on his finger, it was always there. Like now—twisting and looping the tie flap, the cut dancing its grotesque existence across George’s mirror and his mind.

He kept tying. The Smoke would not envelop him. His actions during these past weeks would not define him.

But April was coming and there would be still more questions about his roster. Albrecht, Calhoun, and some of the others with the balls to question a principal would do so, and with increased frequency and a growing desperation.

He shook himself from a stare that derailed him completely. The sleeplessness was becoming burdensome and he could feel himself slowing down. Once he was out of the bathroom, George walked to his nightstand and unplugged his cell phone. There was already a missed call and a voice mail from the City of Carson. Must’ve just come in.

George made it into the kitchen, fully dressed, before the coffee finished brewing. Rose was preparing toast.

“You should grab something before you go,” she said. “You going in now? It’s so early.”

“I’m up. I’ll get a head start.”

“Making toast. Jelly? Butter?”

George’s mouth was gelatin. He wasn’t up for the struggle of having to form words. “Uh-uh,” was all he managed. Didn’t need his mouth for that. He sat at the table watching the coffee stream into the pot, taking note of how long it seemed to be taking.

“Got fruit, George. I can cut up those strawberries. We got bananas, too.”

Christ, the coffee.

“Should I bring something to Beth?” Rose asked. George squinted. “McAllister.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. I’m foggy. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“What’s wrong? You in pain?”

“No, no pain. Yeah, maybe you should go over to Beth today.”

“Are you getting chest pains? What about your breathing?”

George stood and walked to the counter and grabbed a mug. He walked to the coffee maker as if hoping to intimidate it with the waiting cup.

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