Chapter 12: Damaged

Mary walked into her apartment. For the first time, she wasn't scared. The police had him. The police had him and there was no chance of him getting out. For the first time in a while, she was safe.

Closing the door behind her, she took a brief look around the apartment. Everything was the way that she had left it earlier. The phone was over on the couch and the blood was still on the floor.

That was when it had caught her attention. The blood. The very blood that she had caused, the blood of the man that had tormented her. The blood of the man that had pushed her far past her limits, far enough to cause her to pull a trigger. Just knowing that the blood was there made her sick to her stomach. At that point, she wasn't sure if it was just her, or if she could truly smell it.

Mary trudged her way over to the kitchen and grabbed a bucket, soap and a sponge. She set the bucket in the sink and poured a small amount of soap in before filling it with water.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Phyllis sat down in her kitchen across from Kinderman. Her hands were clasped around a cup of coffee as she smiled at him. "Detective Kinderman," she said. "Must be an exciting job," she commented with a hint of fascination.

"Well, yes, Mrs. Lindstrom," he replied. He felt as if she were trying to flirt with him. Right now he just needed a few answers and to move on to the next person.

"My daughter, Bess, she had a detective come into her class and speak to everyone," Phyllis started, but was cut off by an eager Kinderman.

"That's very nice Mrs. Lindstrom, but..." he stated.

"Phyllis," she interrupted.

Kinderman rolled his eyes. "Phyllis," he emphasized his correction. "Could we please get on with this? It's very important," he explained.

"I'm sorry," she apologized as she backed off. The look in his eyes had caught her. "What's wrong?" she questioned.

Kinderman sighed. "Were you here at all this morning? Between ten AM and noon?" he asked. He needed to know if she had an idea of what had taken place.

"No," she answered. "I was picking Bess up from one of her friend's houses," she went on to explain. Her eyes closely studied his face. There was something wrong, terribly wrong. "What happened this morning? Between ten and twelve?" she carefully questioned.

Kinderman leaned forward. "Mrs. Lindstrom, there was an inncident here earlier in one of the apartments up stairs. Greg Thompson was shot," he informed her.

Phyllis knew that name. She knew what was going on between him and Mary. However, there was no way that she could allow herself to think what Kinderman was pointing to. Mary couldn't hurt anyone. "You're not saying that Mary shot him are you?" she laughed. "Because I assure you detective Kinderman, Mary Richards would never ever think of touching a weapon. I mean I've seen this woman have a hard time killing a bug let alone a person," she argued.

"Mary Richards admitted to shooting him. She claimed it was in self defense though. Says that Greg had broken in and threatened her," Kinderman stated.

Phyllis sat back and thought it over. That made sense to her. It was still hard to picture, but it made sense. "Is there going to be a trail?" she asked.

"I doubt it," he replied. "I need to gather some information first though, that's why I came over here. I need to ask you a few questions. If we can prove before hand that it was in self defense, then she won't need to prove her case in court," he said.

Phyllis nodded as she took a sip of coffee. "Ask anything," she insisted.

Kinderman pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. "Now," he started as he leaned in. "How long have you known Mary Richards?"

"About ten years," Phyllis responded.

"How well would you say that you know her?" Kinderman inquired.

"If we were in the same room, I could tell you what she was thinking," Phyllis claimed. Of course it was an exaggeration. She wanted to be the one to keep Mary out of court, to save her from any unneccessary stress.

"Hmm..." he hummed as he took down a few notes.

"Did you get that word for word?" Phyllis checked as she slightly sat up and peeked over the table to his paper.

Without lifting his head, he raised his eyes to her. He didn't have to say anything, but he could see that he intiminated her as she lowered her eyes and sat back. "Did you know Gregory Thompson?" he asked, seeming to ignore her question.

Phyllis shrugged. "Being one of Mary's best friends, she did introduce him to me right away. But they didn't date that long so I didn't get to know him too well," she answered.

"But do you have a vague idea?" he inquired.

"I knew about the fighting," Phyllis clarified. "I knew that she was scared of him."

Kinderman looked up in interest. He had already heard Mary's side of the story and this was about to be part of what he needed to prevent a case against her. It was bad to be biased, but he was hoping to keep Mary from any further trouble. He had only spent a couple of hours with her, but he believed her, and he felt sorry for her.

Phyllis took her cue to continue. "She came to me and told me that she had found out that he was married and that he was mad at her for leaving him," she explained.

KInderman nodded as he leaned back and folded his hands. That was what he had needed.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Mary knelt down over the stain. Her face was pale with worn and tired eyes. Over the last hour of being home, she had gotten sick three times. There had to be something else wrong, she was convinced of that. Upon hearing a knock at the door, she gingerly sat up and dropped the sponge into the bucket. "Who is it?" she called out.

"Rhoda!"

"Come in!" Mary weakly responded.

"I've got a surprise for you!" Rhoda happily announced. After walking in though, her smile was very quickly replaced with a look of concern. "Mary," she gasped and hastened to her side.

"I'm just cleaning," Mary remarked. She knew what was coming next. If she looked half as bad as she felt, then it was only common sense that Rhoda would be a little concerned.

Rhoda bent down and grabbed both of Mary's hands and helped her to her feet. "Come on kid, you need to rest," she instructed as she lead her over to the couch.

Mary sat down and watched as Rhoda walked over and grabbed a glass of water. She knew it was for her. Mary was never one to like the idea of others taking care of her, but she wasn't about to turn it down. The pure exhaustion was setting in. The adrenaline that she had been living off of was gone. The fear that she had allowed to be her life source had temporarily disappeared. "Thanks," she flatly said, accepting the glass.

Rhoda sat down in the chair and watched Mary for a moment. "Ya gonna make me ask?" she impatiently questioned.

"What?" Mary asked as she looked up.

"Come on Mare, what's wrong?" Rhoda asked. Right now, she was honestly considering taking her to the hospital. There was something deeply wrong.

Mary set the glass down on the table and then sat back. "I don't know," she admitted. "I just needed to get rid of the blood. I smelled it when I came in and it made me sick," she explained.

"Why don't you let me finish cleaning up that mess?" Rhoda offered.

Mary shook her head. For some reason, she felt that she had to be the one to get rid of it. She was the one who caused it, and now she had to be the one to take it away.

"You need anything?" Rhoda asked. There had to be something that she could do.

"No," Mary answered.

"Food?" Rhoda suggested.

"I just got sick three times," Mary responded.

Rhoda sat up. "I'm no doctor, but I don't think that's good," she stated.

"I know," Mary agreed. She leaned forward and grabbed for her glass to take a sip. She wanted badly to change the subject. "What was your surpise?" she questioned.

"I think I should wait on that," Rhoda admitted.

"Oh, come on Rhoda. I could use something happy right now," Mary begged. She just needed to keep her attention off of how she looked.

"What if I told you that that something is more like a some one?" Rhoda questioned. She knew that it would irritate Mary, but it would only last a few minutes. Besides, this was something that she had been planning since yesterday night. Mary needed this.

Mary rolled her eyes. "Rhoda! I don't think I'm in any condition to be dating right now," she angrily replied.

Rhoda stood up and smugly smiled to her. "Now see, I thought you would say that," she said as she headed to the door.

Mary sat up and curiously watched as her friend opened the door. "You have some one out there?" Mary nervously questioned. She just continued to watch as Rhoda stepped outside. The last thing she wanted was to see some one, especially some one new.

"Ta da!" Rhoda exclaimed as she stepped back in.

David then walked in. "Hey Mary," he greeted.

Mary's eyes widened. "David," she smiled with excitement. This was someone that she was happy to see. For a few seconds, she had forgotten how bad she felt at the moment.

David walked over to the couch and sat beside her. "I heard what happened. Are you all right?"

Mary stared into his eyes. His arm was around her shoulders, comforting her. "What have you heard?" she questioned.

Rhoda smiled at them. "I think I'm gonna leave you two alone," she announced and then left to go up to her apartment.

David smiled up to Rhoda before getting back to Mary on her question. "Well," he started. "Rhoda called me and told me about the threat that Greg gave you and then she told me to come back down here so that you could feel safe," he told her.

Forcing a small smile of gratitude, Mary nodded. "You didn't have to do that," she said, her eyes beginning to water. "But, I'm glad you did," she confessed.

David leaned down and kissed her forhead. "Anything else wrong?" he asked, noting her appearence.

Mary sat up and looked back to the blood stain. With hesitence, she shamefully looked back to David. "I shot him," she softly choked out through the tears.

Bewildered, he studied her for a moment. "You, shot him?" he exclaimed.

Mary nodded in response.

David looked towards the area in which she had earlier looked. He saw the bucket, but he couldn't see the stain. He told himself that he would have to look for it next time that he stood up. "Greg?" he asked, quickly looking back to Mary.

"Yes," Mary sobbed.

David wrapped her in his arms and pulled her to to him. "All right," he sighed. "You obviously had a good reason. I know you wouldn't just shoot anyone," he stated.

Mary tried to pull herself together for a mere moment, but she had failed. "I don't know what to do anymore," she cried. "I, I can't. No more, just no more," she begged through sobs.

David looked down to her with sympathy. "Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you," he promised.