No shout out, couldn't choose!
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It took a long time before Brady said anything. His ocean blue eyes stared back at me, not daring to blink. I knew he was waiting for me to say more but my mouth had gone dry.
When Brady finally did speak, all he said was "oh."
I could tell he was quite stunned. Without another word, he disappeared from my bedroom doorway, but whether or not he did as I asked I was unsure of, for -despite my attentive listening- I couldn't hear his voice speaking to the police.
I took a moment to gather my thoughts. My heart was beating quite fast. Who would do this? Without warning, my shock melted into anger. Was this really people's idea of fun? Calling the family of murder victims pretending to be them? Causing distress and confusion for a cheap laugh?
Powered with sudden rage, I leapt off the mattress and sped down the hall. Brady was using his thumb and index finger to quickly flip through the phone book in the kitchen. He looked up when he heard me enter.
"I'm trying to find the number of the local police. I didn't really think this qualified as a 911 emergency."
"Is whoever it was still on the line?"
"No. I hung up on them like you told me to."
Without saying anything, I picked up the cordless phone and tapped the call back button, the button that returned the most recent call.
Brady eyed my suspiciously but didn't say anything. The phone rung once, twice, three times, four times, five times...
"Brady? Sorry I think the line went dead."
I gasped. Whoever this poser was, they sounded like my late sister down to a tee. She was speaking softly like Cat often did, and her voice had the same high pitched ring.
"No, it's Mack. And the line didn't go dead, Brady hung up."
There was a long pause.
"Mack? It's so good to hear your voice again!"
"I wish I could say the same. And I would if I was actually talking to my sister."
"Come again?"
I bit my lip hard. "Come again" was Cat's most used phrase.
"You heard me." I snarled. "This is funny. Who are you? And don't say Cat because Cat's dead!"
My voice had been steadily rising to the point that when I said the last word I was yelling. Struts, Lugnut and Butchy jolted awake.
There was a soft click. The poser had hung up.
"Coward." I muttered loudly, practically throwing the phone back on the set.
"I found the number for the police." Brady whispered, clearly taken back by my outburst. "08437816394."
As he read out the numbers, I punched them into the keyboard and picked up the phone.
"California police department, what can I help you with?" A too chirpy sectary sung.
"I'd like to report harassment." I said flatly.
"Alright. Your name please?"
"McKenzie."
There was a scratchy noise, like something being scrawled down on a piece of paper.
"Harassment?" Lugnut repeated.
"What happened?" Struts followed.
I waved my hand at them as a signal for them to be quiet.
"Go on." The sectary's voice seemed to have lost its spark, as though she was hoping whatever I was calling about, it wouldn't involve her having to do work.
"Someone called here pretending to be my older sister Catherine, who passed away in March 2008."
"Ok." The sectary seemed to be even less interest now.
"So I'd like to report them."
"Fine." She sighed. "What was the number?"
"I don't know. It was a blocked number."
The sectary made a noise that sounded like she was trying to suppress a groan, since obviously she wouldn't be the one who would have to track the number but she would have to fill out the paperwork to track the blocked number, which meant more work for her.
"And it what was did this person harass you?"
"What did you mean?"
"You're reporting harassment. So I'm asking you for details or I won't have enough information to fill out the report."
"Oh. Well, I don't know. It's just upsetting that someone would pretend to be Catherine, especially since her death was so tragic."
"I guess. And how many times has this person called you?"
"Just this morning."
The sectary sighed.
"Look, from what you've told me, I have to many blanks on this form. You don't have a number, there's no actual tormenting going on and it's only happened once. That's not serious enough to be considered harassment."
There was a shuffling noise that sounded like paper being scrunched, and I imagined a stick thin sectary sitting behind a desk, her blonde bun pinned high and her smart suit to tight, the phone pressed between her shoulder and her ear as she scrunched the report into a ball and tossed it into the paper bin, silently praising herself when it made it in.
"I'll make a note of you." She droned. "And if it happens again call back. But all you've described so far was a prank call. Hate to break it to you sweetie, but that isn't exactly illegal."
I said a curt thankyou and hung up, even though she had been absolutely no help at all.
"What did the police say?" Brady asked.
"I wouldn't know. Didn't talk to a police officer, just some bitch who found reporting this too much of an inconvenience to her day to do anything." Brady knew I was mad, because that was the only time I ever swore.
"Come here." He whispered, hugging me tightly. When he pulled away I realized the bikers had left, obviously not wanting to insert themselves into any more drama.
"Why didn't you tell me Cat died? When I asked about her you told me you didn't speak to her anymore because the last time you saw her you guys had a fight."
"I know." I admitted. "I told everyone that. Talking about her death was too hard."
Brady didn't press for details, for he could see that I was clearly upset.
He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me into my bedroom. Chee Chee wasn't in there, so I assumed she was in the shower trying to scrub off the scent of alcohol,that she absolutely reeked of.
Brady held me for a very long time, and then he kissed me. A few soft pecks progressed into a slightly forceful kiss which progressed into a make out session.
And before I had time to think about what was happening, I was reaching behind my back and popping the lock on the door.
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