Chapter 11: Discovery
Rick cautiously peeked inside the hospital room, no one was sitting vigil beside the bed or the couch on the adjacent side of the room. Stepping inside, he shifted the half dozen white carnations to his other hand. Flowers bought from the hospital's gift shop— the only ones left that did not look half dead.
Leon Basset lain motionless on the bed, a feeding tube inserted in his nasal cavity and the heart monitor beeping at a steady rhythm. Rick sat down in the chair, placing the sad carnations on the side table. I stopped myself from ending up like this, only for Leon to take my place. Rick thoughts turned to a science theory called 'the butterfly effect'. The first time Rick ever heard that term it was from a bad movie he and Lori saw in the theaters, but what if there was some truth to the theory? Was he being here messing with the lives of those around him? Rick placed his hand on top of Leon's hand and said a silent prayer. Wake up soon buddy.
The door opened and Shane came in carrying a large bouquet of assorted flowers that dwarfed Rick's carnations. They nodded to each other as Shane quietly closed the door behind him. They hadn't talked since Friday, leaving on uneasy terms even after Shane came to Rick's defense with Lori.
"Everybody pitched in on these— they wanted me to bring 'em down," he nervously chuckled and placed the flowers beside the carnations. "Linda and Tamera picked them out," he said, placing his hands in his pockets.
"I can tell." Rick observed the arrangement, "That vase—that's something special." The vase was a blue and white floral design. "Fess up—you steal it from your Grandma Jean's house?"
Shane sheepishly grinned and shook his head, "Man, lay off my granny, she has impeccable taste."
Rick laughed, "I'll remind you of that next time when you start complaining about those sweaters, she knits you."
Shane smirked, strolling over to the other side of Leon, "Hey bud. We're still here." Shane looked to Rick for further reassurance to keep speaking, Rick gestures to him to keep going. "Everyone sends their love, they hope you come back real soon."
Shane lightly touched Leon's arm and then sat down on the couch, rubbing his eyes and then stared at Rick.
"Nice suit," Shane said. Sitting back, he draped his arm on the back of the couch.
Rick loosen his sapphire tie that matched his eyes; he only owned two and one of them he hadn't worn since his wedding day. Rick had done his best this morning to iron it out without Lori's assistance, but his black pants had creases in the wrong areas and he sprayed too much starch on his matching jacket.
"You're not undecided anymore, huh?" Shane sarcastically asked.
"More pay," Rick said.
"And away from me."
Rick sighed, "Not everything is about you brother." He stood up, amazed that he and Shane could not stay in the same room for longer than five minutes before the tension thickens it.
"Didn't say it was," Shane scoffed. Clicking his tongue he gazed out the window and back at Leon. "That could've been you."
Rick's temples pulsed, irritated that Shane said out loud what he was thinking just moments before.
"Last week, you were taking those assholes down one by one, no fear, none whatsoever." Shane pinched his lower lip, his hand then sweeping towards his eye, a brief smile crossed his face as he met Rick's harden stare. "It was cool, crazy as hell, but you almost ended up right next to Basset if it wasn't for me."
Rick started to smile, not because he was happy, but because he knew where this was going. How many times did Shane remind Rick that he was the reason Lori and Carl were safe? The little pieces of the 'Shane' puzzle were being put back together.
"So I owe you my loyalty?"
"Why not? We are— were partners, I had your back out there." Shane's voice began to rise, nostrils flared. "I've always been there and now you're just ending it, like that."
Now you know how all your exes feel. "I need the money, that's all there is to it. I might even retire in a few years." Rick chuckled, "Become a farmer."
Astonished, Shane shook his head, his face relaxing, "I can't see Lori wanting to be a farmer's wife."
"Well," Rick stood up, resisting the desire to break the news to Shane that he wanted to end his marriage, "People change."
"I'm learning that firsthand." Shane stood up as well, dusting his pants. "Might as well ask, is our friendship over as well?"
Rick frowned, he had never seen Shane look this vulnerable even when he sunk the knife into his belly that one faithful night, even in his last moments there was defiance in Shane's eyes. That was then, this is now.
"That won't change Shane," Rick held his hand out. "We're brothers," Shane smiled, ignoring his hand and pulling Rick in for a hug. Memories of the night he had to kill his best friend swirled through Rick's mind. He really wanted to start over with Shane and put aside the grief he experienced with the unhinged version. He would be lying to himself if he thought that Shane didn't exist in this world, but it was there lying dormant and hopefully if the world doesn't end, that Shane won't be ignited.
"Look at us, acting like two hormonal women," Shane laughed against Rick's neck.
"You're the one crying." He moved back, Shane quickly wiped his eye.
"Man, I just had someth—."
The heart monitor started beeping wildly as Leon's body convulsed. Both Rick and Shane rushed over to his side. Leon shook violently, his jaw and hands clenched tightly, awful wheezing noises came from his mouth. Shane tried to hold down his shoulders.
"WAIT," Rick pulled at Shane's arms, "he's having a seizure, holding him down will make it worse." He pressed the nurses' button over and over while Shane paced. Neither men knew what else to do, but luckily nurses came streaming in, pushing them out of the way as they worked on Leon.
Rick rubbed his face and felt the tears. Shane's hands were upon him, leading him out to the hallway.
"Hey, hey, he'll be okay," Shane reassured, sitting Rick down. Rick felt tremendous pressure on his chest and he tried to steady his breathing. He glanced towards Shane, who crouched in front of him as two more nurses and a doctor enter Leon's room.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. Shane paused, Rick felt remorse for last week. If what he's been through in his mind for the past two years wasn't a reminder that life was short then Leon fighting for his life surely was. This was a second chance and Rick needed a new start, no more grudges.
A nurse stepped out and approached them, she bunched up her burgundy sweater as if she was cold. Rick could see the worry on her face before she hid it with a soft smile.
"Leon's stable again, but I'm sorry you'll have to come back later," she said.
"I'll call his wife, she'll… she'll need to know," said Shane.
She held her hand out to him, "I'm about to notify her now. He's fine, Dr. Trae is at his side, seizures sometimes happen with coma patients."
Both men nodded understanding that their presence wasn't needed nor wanted at the time. The nurse smiled again and turned and went back to the room. Rick saw through the blinds, Dr. Trae injected some solution into Leon's arm while a different nurse checked his vital signs.
"You heading back to the station?" Shane asked, entering into Rick's train of thought.
Rick nodded, "yeah I'll see you there."
Shane walked away, turning around briefly to observe Rick stepping closer to the window. Shane wanted to go back and force Rick to come with him but thought better of it. The nurse's reassurances couldn't convince Rick that Leon wasn't far from ok. There was a possibility the man could die and then what? Would Leon come back, would a part of his brain command the rest of it to defy modern science and have a hunger for human flesh? Rick wanted to know if this was the beginning of him reliving hell. He stared through the window until he saw the doctor stepped back, nodding his head to the other nurses and touching Leon's shoulder.
Rick listened closely as the doctor spoke. "Welcome back Leon," he said.
Rick sat at his desk, placing his signature on the final piece of tax and work transfer paper. He shifted the fan for the fourth time in an effort to relieve himself from the heat; it was brutal inside the station and even worst outside. He laid down the paper on a stack of more papers and shuffled them so that they were neat.
Twirling around and around in his chair, Rick hoped that this wouldn't be his new work life set up, stuck behind a desk, filling out paperwork. He called Michonne after leaving the hospital, wanting to hear the voice that always grounded him back to reality, but received no answer. He knew she had to be neck deep in her case considering the trial would resume tomorrow.
He missed her even before she left while she was in his arms, sleeping peacefully against his chest, he missed her. He had half a mind to turn in resignation papers, take Carl, drive up to Atlanta, grab Michonne and her son Andre, and live out the rest of their days in the middle of nowhere. Rick would be content with that life.
Rick swiveled his chair facing his desk and sat up. He pulled out a legal pad from his drawer and wrote down the names of the only three lawyers that he knew of that worked in King's County. And out of those three, only one was a family attorney. Putting down the pen, Rick web searched divorce attorneys in Georgia, pulling up hundreds of names, he then narrowed the location radius and the price range. Still too many to choose from. Michonne probably knows some good attorneys. Rick quickly dispelled that thought, Michonne shouldn't be involved in his divorce with Lori. Especially considering that from an outsider's perspective, Rick was having an affair. No one would believe that his heart, body, and soul moved on after Lori's "death" and he has been fully committed to Michonne.
Seeing Morgan approach, Rick clicked out of his search links and placed the legal pad back in his drawer. Morgan was another person Rick didn't want knowing of his divorce plans.
"You ready, Detective Grimes," Morgan smiled, carrying two cups of coffee. He sat on the edge of Rick's desk and held out one of the cups to Rick. Rick accepted, taking a couple of sips and enjoying the caffeine energy boost.
"I have more stuff to sign."
"Eh. That can wait, we have a murder to solve. C'mon."
Rick nodded, pushing his wallet, keys and phone into his pockets, and grabbing his jacket even though he dreaded the thought of wearing it in the sweltering heat.
The small house on the end of the block was even more of a sore thumb amongst its perfect peers. Police tape and several barricades were strewn over the front lawn. The little garden had been trampled on by police and forensics. A neighbor peered out of their front door watching as Rick and Morgan waited for Carol Peletier to open the door.
Rick wiped the sweat from his brow, on the way there, he mentally practiced what he'd say to Carol. While Morgan wanted to question her about her husband's murder, Rick wanted to know if she had any recollection about the post-apocalypse world. He felt a familiarity with her that he didn't want to shrug it off as just a weird phenomenal.
The door creaked open, just enough for them to see a sliver of Carol. Morgan stood in front, partially blocking Rick from her view.
"What is it?" Her voice not as timid as before when Rick and Shane first met her.
"Mrs. Peletier, I'm Detective Morgan Jones, I told you on Friday we'll be coming by today for an interview."
She gave a brusque nod, her eyes darted behind Morgan landing on Rick.
"Why is he here?" The door began closing, but Morgan put his hand on it to stop.
"Mrs. Peletier, Detective Grimes is my new partner, and he's been cleared." Morgan turned to Rick who smiled tightly. She knew he was never a suspect, she just didn't like him, and Rick wanted to know why.
Morgan didn't wait for a response from Carol, he pushed the door open further as Carol relented, taking a step back. Both men came inside with Rick closing the door behind him. The front lawn and garden might have been a mess, but the living room and adjacent dining were practically spotless. Rick's eyes fell upon the spot he saw Ed's headless corpse. Not even the bleach that was used could rid all the evidence that Ed died in that spot.
"We want to catch your husband's killer… quickly," Morgan said. His voice was soothing and firm and his words could easily come off as condescending, but instead his cadence had a touch of care to it. "The first and most helpful step in bringing this monster to justice are discovering anything we can about the victim. And we need your help with that."
Rick fiddle with his suit jacket. He wished he left it in the car because there was no air conditioning in Carol's home. There was a fan by the dining area, but its air was turned towards the kitchen. Rick gazed over at Carol, their eyes met and she quickly averted them back to Morgan. She pulled out a chair from the table and sat down, Morgan follow suit.
"Do you mind if my partner looks around for clues while we talk?" Carol frowned, sighing she pulled an ashtray containing half a cigarette towards her. "I figure you'll be more comfortable without Rick lingering," he added.
"Sure," she said quietly, lighting up the cigarette and taking a long drag. "Can we stop pretending as if I have a say in the manner, though?" She rolled her eyes and took another drag. Morgan grinned and nodded to Rick. Rick didn't need any further encouragement, he was actually glad to not have to be under Carol's watchful eye.
He left them alone and climbed up the creaky stairs. There were only three rooms in the upstairs area, cheap paintings cluttered the walls, but no family pictures. Just like the living and dining area, the hallway had a faint smell of bleach. Rick opened the first door to the left of him which was a bathroom. Not seeing anything of interest, he headed for the room at the end of the hallway.
Opening that door, Rick assumed it had to be the master bedroom. The queen-size bed was right by the door; it was tidy and made with a hotel-like perfection. If Lori saw it, she would be envious. There was another bathroom to the far right of him and next to it, a closet. On the other side of the bed was a single nightstand with lamp. The room wasn't heavily decorated, Rick stepped over to the two dresser drawers on the opposite side. One of the drawers' surface was covered with picture frames containing family photos.
Rick picked up a black and white framed one which showed a Carol in her late thirties with dark auburn hair. She carried in her arms a baby wrapped tightly in its blanket. Beside her another woman, older, but with the same auburn hair had her arm wrapped around Carol's shoulders, both women had bright genuine smiles on their faces. Rick put down the frame and observed another photo, this one of Sophia. Her flaming red hair flying behind her like a cape in the wind as she swung on a swing. There were more pictures of Carol and Sophia with various family members. But what struck Rick as odd yet understandable was that none of the pictures were recent. Sophia's picture had to be the most recent, but she looked to be seven or eight in the photograph. And the odd fact; Ed Peletier were in none of them.
Rick moved over to the next drawer that had papers and envelopes scattered about. He leafed through them, identifying them as bills. Most had past due and final notices on them with bold lettering. More paper stuck out at the corner of the top drawer, Rick pulled it open, greeted with more bills. Was Ed working? And if they had this much debt why wasn't Carol working as well? Rick looked at the dates of some of the bills and most had accumulated within the last year. He sifted through the stack and pulled out a bank statement dated this past January. Ed only had $43 in his checking and $205 in his savings.
Rick read another bank statement dated in March:
Deposit: $4999
Deposit: $4999
So, in March, Ed was able to deposit close to $10000 and made sure both deposits were under $5000 so not to raise the local credit union's suspicions. He opened up his notebook and wrote down his observations, Rick then sifted through more paper and found two more bank statements with the same dollar deposits in April and May. But, a June bank statement showed that both his savings and checking accounts had less than a hundred dollars in them. Yet there were still bills from those months with past due amounts that hadn't been paid down or paid off. Where were you getting this money from Ed?
He placed the bank statements and correlating bills onto the bed, moving back to the drawer, his foot kicked an object making it slide under a chair. Bending down, he reached for what looked to be another picture frame. Within his grasp, Rick stood up and turned it over; the glass was cracked but he could still easily identify a very young, late teens Carol, this time with the same long, flaming red hair as Sophia's. Her face was full and she wore a plain white gown showing her heavily pregnant figure. Beside her with his arms wrapped tightly around the back of her neck was the former Ed Peletier at his peak. No beer belly and rugged, he had a smirk fitted on his face. The photo had to have been taken on their wedding day, but Ed didn't bother to dress up for it. Rick viewed Carol's face, her smile didn't match her sad eyes. A marriage born out of inconvenience.
Rick laid the picture face down on the papers next to a watch. The watch was plain, unassuming, and familiar. The same tingling sensation that he had when Carol first appeared in front him, presented itself. Rick's hand hovered over the object like it was coveted treasure and he didn't know whether to pick it or leave it there.
"Hi."
The small voice startled Rick, he turned around to see Sophia standing by the door.
"Hi," he replied. He put his notebook in his suit pocket and took a couple of steps towards Sophia. She held tightly to a raggedy Ann doll in her arm and the other to the door frame. "How are you holding up?"
"Fine."
"That's good." Morgan and Carol's voice could be heard from downstairs, their whispers echoing through the small home. Rick pointed to Sophia's doll and smiled, "I haven't seen her in a long time, Raggedy Ann was quite the popular doll growing up."
"It was my mom's." Sophia stepped further into the room, her head now resting on the door frame as she casually played with the doll's yarn hair. Her demeanor was the opposite of Carl, Rick figured she had to be his age or maybe a year younger, but she was painfully shy and quiet. "She tells me that as long as I have it nothing bad will happen to me."
Rick's brows furrowed, he observed the little girl's visible arms and legs for any bruises, but he saw none. She looked up, meeting Rick's eyes, her own sad expressive blue ones told him that she's seen things no child her age should have to see.
"I should have given her to daddy," she muttered.
"Sophia, we'll find the bad man that hurt your daddy," Rick kneeled down and held out his hand. She eyed his hand and then his face and back to his hand again. After a moments paused, she placed her own hand in his.
"Daddy was a bad man too."
Yeah, he was. Ed Peletier was a piece of shit who abused his wife and child. Rick didn't forget how he wanted to put a slug in between Ed's eyes last week.
"Sophia, did your dad have any friends that would come over? Anyone that he was really friendly with?" Rick asked. Kids were observant, he knew that firsthand with Carl, they saw things that adults overlook or didn't think they would notice.
"Yes. Donny, Kyle, um," she scrunched up her forehead, "this bald guy and Negan."
Rick pulled out his notebook again and a pen, he knew of Donny and Kyle, they were truck drivers for King's County Steel Co. He scratched his head, any bald men in this small of a town would stand out and there were maybe four of them and out of those four, Rick knew one of them worked at the Steel factory as well, but he couldn't put a name to the face. And then Negan.
No one in town went by that name yet it was a name that Rick felt he heard before. A name that he may have even thought about or said aloud.
"Negan? How long has he and your dad been friends?"
"I don't know."
"Did he come over to the house?"
"Yes, but he was leaving when me and mommy came home."
"Could you tell me what he looked like?"
"Taller than daddy and bigger, but not like fat big, like strong big. His hair was black and he smiled a lot."
Negan. Fuck. Rick stood up sighing, his instincts were screaming at his brain to conjure up a memory or to remember a detail he pushed down, but instead he was drawing blanks.
"Did you see him often?"
"No. Just that one time."
"Do you remember if you overheard your daddy and Negan say anything to each other?"
"I don't remember. Mommy told me to go to my room. But—." Sophia stopped herself, her eyes watered making Rick scoot closer to her.
"Hey hey don't cry." He brushed her face gently, wiping away the fallen tears.
"Daddy and mommy argued that day, something about money and then daddy hit her in the face." Sophia cried harder, her little body shaking, "He kept hitting her until she stopped moving. I thought—." Sophia collapsed into Rick's arms as she wailed. Rick held her and rubbed her back, rocking her back and forth to get her to calm down.
"Sophia?" Carol appeared at the door, anger in her eyes when Rick looked up. "Come here, now!" Rick let the little girl go who wiped her own eyes and nose, she sauntered over to her mother who quickly moved her to her side, burying Sophia's face from Rick's view. "You need to leave," Carol said to Rick.
"Carol…"
"You have no right," she spat, holding up a finger to Rick's face, she looked to be on the verge of crying herself. "You have no right to question my daughter without my being present. Leave."
"Listen, I'm sorry for last week. I'm sorry. I just wanted to help."
"I don't need your help."
Rick shook his head, knowing that to be partially true. Carol didn't need him, but he hoped she'd find help from others. Ed may be gone, permanently, but the pieces of her and her daughter's lives needed healing. "You have a bright daughter. Take care, ok."
Carol nodded, refusing to look Rick in the eye. Rick sighed, turning around on his heel and headed back downstairs where Morgan waited by the door.
"She still hates you huh?" Morgan asked.
Rick didn't answer, instead, he walked passed Morgan and left out the front door.
"Making little girls cry now?" Morgan asked.
They were driving from Carol's home to wherever the next destination Morgan had in mind. Rick rolled his eyes and yawn, his body reminding him that he only had a couple hours of sleep and was now running on fumes.
"Can we stop for some coffee?"
"Sure thing, we can go over some notes while we're there."
Rick nodded and pulled out his notebook, and the papers he took from Carol's home.
"What are those?" Morgan gestured his head to the items Rick held.
"Clues, possible evidence as to why Ed got his head smashed in. The man was in debt, but for a few months, he was depositing 10000 dollars in cash to his checking account."
"Hmm… borrowing money from someone."
"Definitely. But, not using the money to take care of his family."
"Carol didn't or wouldn't tell me much. She said they weren't having money problems."
Rick scoffed, "That's a lie," thumbing through the stack of bills he had in his hand. "Sophia mention a 'Negan' came by their house one time."
Morgan shifted in his seat, Rick waited for him to inquire who this Negan person was, but instead Morgan focused on the road. "I think this Negan guy was the one giving Ed the money," Rick continued.
"Interesting."
Interesting. That's it. Rick folded up the papers and placed them back in his notebook, he yawned again. He wanted to sleep, but not before hearing Michonne's voice again. He started to wish she was in the car with him, helping solve Ed's murder. His perfect partner in love and business.
"I think your friend Michonne might have conned me," Morgan chuckled lightly.
Rick frowned, "What do you mean?" He asked defensively.
"I don't mean it in a bad way, just that I really don't think the information she gave me about the Atlanta murders is related."
"The man's head was eviscerated, sounds pretty related to me."
"Well, I called the detective that handled the case and he seems to disagree. A Detective Blake."
"Of course, he'd disagree, no cop wants to admit they put the wrong person in jail."
"I'm just saying, it was a valid effort on Michonne's part, but she probably shouldn't rely so heavily on Ed Peletier's murder being her golden goose."
Morgan parked into King County's dining parking lot and turned off the car engine. "Could I look through the copies, she gave you?" Rick asked in a curious tone, he smiled, "I spent the weekend catching up with her instead of looking at the case, just curious as to what she gave you." Rick didn't buy for a second that the murders weren't related, his instincts yelled that something was fishy.
"They're behind you in the back seats."
Rick turned and viewed the stacks of vanilla folders sitting on the backseat floor, he grabbed the first one and flipped it open.
"You coming inside?" Morgan asked while getting out the car.
Rick didn't look up, he started reading through the file report on a Dwight Gibson, "Give me a minute," he said. He then heard the car door shut and briefly looked up to see Morgan walking to the diner. Rick's eyes then turned back to the papers.
This Dwight had a steady job for a decade until a year before his death. Rick sifted through more information on Dwight and his wife, Sherry. They were both busted for possession of meth, sixteen months ago, but got off with probation and a court order for rehab.
Rick scanned through a court transcript:
This is my client's first offense, he has agreed to seek rehab and recently has been hired as a cook at a bar called 'The Sanctuary.' His boss, Negan Sallone is offering his services to be Dwight's sponsor.
Negan. Rick's eyes widen, he quickly looked up and saw Morgan nowhere in sight. Pain pounded in the center of Rick's forehead, forcing him to shut his eyes tightly. He felt dizzy, rolling down the window, the hot humid air did nothing for him. Rick breathed in and out, trying to relax as his mind went elsewhere.
The ringing in his ears made him deaf to other sounds surrounding him. He blinked his eyes a couple of times clearing away the blurriness. Rick felt a consistent pounding in his forehead and liquid trickling down the side of his face onto his neck.
He didn't want to move, if he stayed still and closed his eyes the pain would subsequentially ease, so he thought. Another explosion rocked the ground, smoke rose and darken the blue sky. Rick tried to think back to what was happening moments before he blacked out. The saviors poured into ASZ, he was getting those who decided to stay and fight, towards their positions and then he saw Abraham and Michonne under fire.
The thought of her was the adrenaline shot he needed to start moving. Rick turned onto his side, the pounding in his head was relentless. Beside him was a dead savior, Rick's hand went for his colt, but his holster was empty. It then searched a little to the side and pulled out his knife. Reaching over to the dead man, Rick stabbed the knife into his skull ending the man's chances of reanimation. Rick scanned the ground for his colt python while shots fired around him. He spotted his weapon under bits of rubble.
Picking it up, he stumbled to his feet. Rick tried to stand up all the way, but there was a sharp stabbing pain in his gut. Breathing hard he took a step and then another until he had to stop and hunch over, clutching his stomach. Rick took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the smoky air and thankful that they were okay for now.
A short stumpy man with thinning hair carried a shotgun and was aiming it at one of the unarmed Alexandrians. Rick ended the man's attempt, firing a shot to his head. Trying again to stand straight, Rick gritted his teeth. She was with me. His eyes frantically searched around him until he saw her. Rick's heart raced and he felt another sharp stab in his side while he moved faster. Michonne was on the ground motionless.
"No, no, no," he choked out. His legs moved faster and his hand reached out to her. Right when he was inches away from her, he felt a hard shove that lifted him from the ground. He watched as the distance between him and her grew and then felt more searing pain when his head and back bounced on the ground.
"You stupid motherfucker." Hard blows rained down Rick's head and face, he tried to aim his gun at his assailant, but he knocked it out of his hands. "I let you fucking LIVE!" PUNCH "And this is my fucking thanks!" PUNCH. "Fuck. You."
Rick blocked one of the blows and threw one of his own which connected. Rick's assailant screamed more obscenities. Rick kicked the man in the groin forcing him off. He looked over to where Michonne was still lying. Rick's worst fear started to creep into his brain. I can't do this again. Not her. Rick heard his assailant laughing, he looked at him, both men were breathing hard, trying to catch their breath. The man wiped the blood from his nose with a smile. His gleeful expression enraged Rick, making him tighten his fists.
"I will kill you Negan."
Negan tried to tackle him again, Rick planted his feet to the ground to prevent from being lifted up. Negan shoved into Rick's waist and stomach which knocked the breath out of him, but he barely budged, throwing punches at Negan's head and back. Rick was determined to win this fight.
"Rick! Rick!" Rick was being shaken violently awake.
"Get off of me!" He yelled. Rick was no longer in Alexandria, but back in Morgan's car. Sweat beaded down his head and neck.
Morgan moved back, "You can't be sleeping in a hot ass car, Rick. You barely rolled down the window."
Rick stumbled out of the car feeling nausea wash all over him. He needed to make sure Michonne was okay. He needed to hear her voice because there was no denying what he experience was a memory, possibly a clue to what happened to them.
Rick ignored Morgan and pulled out his cell. He walked to the edge of the parking lot and took off his jacket, loosen his tie while the phone rang.
It rang four times then he heard her voice.
"Michonne…"
"I'll call you back as soon as possible." It was her voicemail greeting. Rick hit END on his phone and dialed her number again. His hands were clammy as he clutched his phone.
It rang once. Then twice.
On the third ring, it picked up.
"Hello?"
Rick's mouth dropped and he swallowed hard. The deep baritone was that of a man and not Michonne.
"Hello," the man repeated.
"I'm trying to reach Michonne," Rick said, trying to keep his voice calm.
This has to be Mike. There was a long pause on the other line. The only sounds were Rick and Mike's breathing.
"Michonne's not available."
"When will she be available," Rick tried to leave the edge in his tone out to no avail.
Rick heard him chuckle, "Wow. She's not available as in she's a taken woman. My fiancée. She's about to be a married woman buddy so hang up the phone and lose her number."
If Mike was in front of him Rick would have been punched him, but he was powerless and numb in this moment.
"I need to talk with her."
"You're not even going to pretend I don't know what I'm talking about?" Mike asked incredulously.
"This is important, it's about her trial, I have some information she needs to know…"
"I knew it!" Mike laughed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I knew it had to be someone she worked with… if you have such important information, you know how to contact Christie or that other dude unless you are that other dude. Do not ever in your life contact my woman again, you hear me?
Rage bubbled in Rick's heart, "Michonne doesn't belong to anyone. She made her choice and it isn't you," he said, no longer wanting to hold back his tongue.
There was silence on the other line. After a moment's pause, Rick couldn't even hear Mike's breathing. Removing the phone from his ear, Rick viewed it and saw that the call had ended.
Rick paced back and forth, he saw Morgan keeping his distance which was good. Rick had too many questions and no one seemed interested in providing answers. Something screwy happened to him and Michonne and his only lead were to a possible murderer. Rick felt like he didn't have many options, he needed to contact Michonne, soon or he will be heading to Atlanta come hell or high water.