The Dying Five by Jennifer Wright-Berryman

Author:Jennifer Wright-Berryman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Thriller, Cozy Mystery, Suspense, LGBTQ, Mental Health
Publisher: Jennifer Wright-Berryman
Published: 2023-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-One

I took a sip of water waiting for Stephen to respond. Instead, he laughed. This was the second time I’d heard him belly laugh, the first was with Ron from Story. It was a deep laugh, and it made me laugh, too. There were definitely two sides to Stephen, and he was giving me a glimpse of Stephen 2.0.

“Of all the things you could ask me at this moment, you want to know how I get my mail?” The corners of his eyes were still turned up from laughing. He was laughing at me, which made me feel like a child, like his passenger-side driving.

“I’m curious. I didn’t see a mailbox,” I said. “In fact, I didn’t see any mailboxes in this neighborhood. Do you have a central mail room or one of those multiple box locations?” Stephen shook his head and sighed, as if I should be able to answer my own question.

“I don’t get mail. I get a mail report, and I reject it all electronically.”

“What if someone sends you a card, you know, for your birthday?”

Stephen guffawed so hard he snorted. “I don’t get birthday cards, Callie.”

“I’m going to start sending you cards, Stephen, just to show you.”

“Good luck getting my mailing address.” He winked at me. I wondered if it hurt his face muscles to laugh and smile, since he rarely did it. Or maybe he did when he’s Stephen 2.0. But who would he laugh with? Himself? Confusion settled into my skin. I was tingling, and I wasn’t sure if it was from anticipation or anxiety. Who was this man? The information I discovered yesterday was only one part of his façade.

“Now, let’s get to why you’re really here.” Stephen took another sip of his brandy. His mood seemed looser, lighter. I wasn’t used to this version of Stephen. I was thrown off, which was probably his plan. I persisted through my discomfort. I didn’t want him to think he had the edge. I was silly to think I ever had any sort of upper hand with Stephen. His confidence never waned. He sipped his brandy and looked at me with amusement.

“As the leader of TD5, I have certain information.” I started, watching Stephen’s eyebrows raise. “And this is information only leaders have access to.” Stephen leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. I felt my edge growing, even if it was slight. I decided to drop the bomb.

“Julie Capernella,” I said, keeping my tone even and my face expressionless.

Stephen drew in a sharp breath. “That’s not where I thought we were headed with this conversation,” he said.

“Oh, you thought I was going to start with how I know you’re not dying, and that you don’t even have a terminal illness? You don’t take dialysis and you don’t see a doctor regularly?”

“That’s the ticket,” Stephen said. “That was something I figured you’d discover pretty quickly.”

“I have suspected for a long time. However, I saw you changing. I saw you engaging TD5 on a personal level.

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