Chapter Nineteen-A Plan is Formed

Mary and Bobby were at his house, preparing dinner in a comfortable silence as Tally stalked and hissed around the room. It appeared to Mary as if he were deciding between claiming his territory or planning mutany and with his personality, both were very real personalities. At the moment Tally was content to simply glare and hiss at an uninterested Bobby, who was busy chopping tomatoes. Mary's contribution was chopping an onion and garlic glove. Once Bobby was finished dicing the tomatoes, he checked the heat of the pan and instructed Mary to add the onion and garlic.

She obeyed and Bobby stirred them in the pan, waiting until they were tender before he and Mary added the tomatoes, tomatoe sauce, sugar, oregano, and salt. Bobby stirred and Mary got to work on the meatballs, which like the sauce, came from a Goren family recipe. As Mary formed the balls, Bobby spoke.

"I think we should wake up early tomorrow so we can go talk to the chief of security at your building," he said. "I want to aquire a copy of the surveilence footage of Alden and the locksmith coming to your building so I can have a picture blown up of the gentleman in question. I have a few contacts, so I think they can help us find this guy."

"I can make the picture for you," Mary volunteered. "that shouldn't be too difficult a task for someone with a master's in computer science. Afterall, Terra and I used to hack into our school's system just for fun."

"I can only imagine the hyjinks the two of you got into," Bobby said with a chuckle. "I know Beth was the voice of reason, trying to make the two of you behave, but what were Meagan and Stacee's rolls in the group?"

"More often than not, Meagan was in charge of Terra and Beth was the one keeping me in line. Stacee has always been a follower, so she would simply obey whomever was in charge of a particular situation."

"Yes, I've noticed that about Stacee," Bobby replied. "has she always been that way?"

"Yes. I love Stacee, but I can't stand how spineless she is. Her need for approval sickening-and kind of sad. It makes me feel relieved I don't care what people think of me."

"You do care what people think of you, Mary-you just hide it better than Stacee. It's been said that we most despise in others what we see in ourselves and I think the reason you so detest Stacee's need for approval is you have that desire yourself."

"Yeah...save the armchair psycho-babble for someone more susceptiable," Mary grumbed, placing the meatballs in the pot with the sauce.

"Mary, I'm a detective, not an armchair psychologist-it's my job to read people and I do it very well."

"I'm sure you do."

"I also think we should attend your reunion," he said suddenly.

Mary was stirring the sauce when Bobby made that comment and he smiled slightly as the flowing rythym of her stirring was momentarily disrupted. She looked over at Bobby, assessing his seriousness. Once she determied he meant what he said, she began to glower.

"Is this in retaliation for the 'psycho-babble' comment?" she asked.

"Not at all," Bobby assured her. "I just think we need to talk further with the girls and I think showing them the video would do a world of good for our case. Besides, I think you could use a vacation. Getting away will do you some good."

"Robert, I appreciate your dedication to my case and the fact you are including me in the investigation," Mary began, choosing her words carefully. "I suppose I wouldn't mind driving down there to talk to the girls, but I would rather not have anything to do with my former classmates. I...I have left that part of my life in the past for a reason."

"Was it mostly your health your classmates mocked or was there more to it?" Bobby asked, knowing from more than just professional experience just how cruel young people could be.

"Do we really need to discuss this?" Mary sighed. "it won't change the past and once this case is resolved we'll go about our normal lives and lose contact, so what does it matter?"

"Discussing your demons can help put them to rest-and what makes you think we'll never speak again?"

"Robert, how many crime victims have you kept in contact with over the years?"

"Not many," Bobby admitted. "but I do speak to some. And for what it's worth, I don't consider you a victim. Alden did a terrible thing to you, but you didn't lay there and take it. He got worse than he gave and you should be proud of that."

"Oh I am," Mary assured him. "smashing that wine bottle over his head was incredible gratifying. It's too bad the glass didn't cut the nerves in his eye sockets and render him blind. Everyone loves a blind man in prison."

"Was smashing the wine bottle over his head better than hitting him with the pan of cranberry sauce?" Bobby asked, amusement in his eyes.

"I think so," Mary said after considering Bobby's question for a moment. "the former inflicted more pain."

Bobby simply nodded, the fact that Mary had manipulated the conversation in such a way that she didn't have to answer his original question. He wanted her to open up more, but he knew that would come in due time. The remained silent while preparing dinner: Bobby prepared garlic bread and salad and Mary seemed content to stir and glare at the sauce. They ate in silence, each lost in thought as they quietly devoured their meal. When dinner was over, they did the dishes and placed the remaining food in tupperware for later consumption.

"What time does the chief of security arrive at your building?" Bobby asked.

"His shift starts at nine, but he's usually in his office by seven or eight because according to Beth, he hates his wife and wants to spend as little time at home as possible."

"Beth and Terra seem to know about everyone in the building," Bobby commented. "we could use that to our advantage."

"Beth talks to our neighbors and administrators because she genuinely loves people and getting to know them: Terra just wants ammo so she can gossip."

Bobby raised an eyebrow and Mary shrugged her shoulders. "Hey, that rumor about the janitor and window washer didn't start itself!"

"Was there any validity to Terra's statement?"

"I think at most there was heavy petting, but somehow I can't imagine sixty year old Gus having a threeway in the utility room."

"Age doesn't equate lack of ability," Bobby replied, since he was closer to sixty than he cared to admit or think about.

"Goodness Robert, did I strike a nerve?" Mused Mary. "you're not sixty, but I am certain you are able to keep the flames burning for the ladies. I'm sure the gun and badge are quite the afrodisiacs for the opposite sex."

"You would be surprised," Bobby said, chuckling slightly. He wasn't about to tell her just how long he had been without female companionship, but it had been a while. In fact, Bobby was almost certain the Twin Towers were still erect the last time he had a date.

"You don't strike me as a womanizer, but I assumed you have had at least a few relationships over the years," Mary said, wondering why in the world Detective Goren's lovelife was suddenly of such interest to her. She could barely stand it when the girls prattled about their own romantic encounters.

"What about you, Mary?" Bobby asked, wanting to detract attention from himself and learn more about his evasive charge.

"What about me?" Mary asked, knowing full well what he meant, but trying to formulate a response that wouldn't make her sound any more like a social parriah.

By now Mary and Bobby were sitting on Bobby's couch in the living room, facing each other. Tally jumped onto Mary's lap and she obiediently began to stroke his back. The cat rewarded her with a pur and a snug smile as he curled contentedly on her lap.

"You know perfectly well what I mean," Bobby said. "I've learned quite a bit about the love lives of your family members and yet, you never mention your own. When was the last time you were in a serious relationship?"

"I've gone on dates," Mary said with a shrug. "but nothing serious has ever come about. I don't know why, but I've always had an...aversion to dating. On occassion I will pacify one of the girls by going on an ill-fated blind date they have arranged, but to be honest, I prefer being alone. I love my family, but I don't want to be beholdent to one person for the rest of my life. I love having the freedom to come and go as I please. I love interacting with the girls, but I also love going into my room, shutting the door, and having my alone time."

"Do you think there is a connection between your aversion to dating and your dream?"

"No-why would there be? Lots of people have reaccuring dreams and they have no bearing on their everyday lives."

"True, but don't you find it strange that for most of your life you have had a dream that involves someone hurting you and you have avoided intimacy ever since?"

"I don't see a correlation between the two at all," Mary said, sounding more defensive than she would've liked. "when Terra was a teenager she used to have reoccuring dreams she was married to Justin Timberlake and that hasn't happened yet."

"You wouldn't be this defensive if you didn't think there was some truth to my statement. Admit it, Mary-your dream has plagued you for years and you have always wondered what it meant. You have asked your parents, but they won't tell you. Carolyn won't tell you for fear of upsetting your father and water torture wouldn't get anything out of that man."

"My parents and I have discussed my dream many times and Daddy told me when I was little I was afraid of monsters under my bed and that dream for whatever reason has lingered well into adulthood. I'm afraid of the dark, so if my bedroom is pitch black that can trigger the dream."

"I see," Bobby said, looking less than convinced.

"Robert, I understand your disdain for my father, but even you cannot fault him for my dreams. They are mine and mine alone and have nothing to do with him. Not everything in life has a deeper meaning. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar and a dream is just a dream."

Bobby was close to mentioning how Freud's findings were discredited by modern psychology and he found it interesting she chose a discredited neurologist to defend her father, but thought better of it. Judging by the glare he was already receiving, he was convinced Mary would combust into flames if he questioned her father's words further. He was certain he would continue to question The General, but he would save the Spanish Inquisition for another occassion.

"It's getting late, Mary. We should go to bed if we want to get an early start on the day," he said.

"I think that's a good idea," Mary said crossly. It was only ten o'clock and Mary was nowhere near ready for sleep, but time alone sounded good.

Bobby and Mary wished each other goodnight and went into their respective bedrooms. After throwing on a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, she climbed into bed and cuddled Tally close. Her feline companion made a sound that was a cross between a purr and a hiss and Mary smiled.

"My sweetly ornery kitty-at least you never piss me off," she replied.

Tally raised his paw and it landed on Mary's cheek. From the outside it appeared he had slapped her, but that was just his way of showing affection. Mary kissed his paw, turned off the lights, and snuggled under the worn comforter. She hadn't been very tired before, but suddenly fatigue settled upon her. By ten thirty she was sound asleep, but that didn't last long.

Around two o'clock in the morning, the dream came. As always Mary was in her bed when the figure emerged. The figure crept closer and instead of waking up as usual, Mary was able to see the person's face. To her shock and horror, it was of her father. The look on his face was that of pure evil and it shook Mary to her core.

Her eyes popped open and she bolted up in bed, covered in sweat. She ran a hand through her hair and looked over at Tally, who was sleeping soundly at her bed. Mary gripped the side of the bed, waiting for her gasping breaths to subside and for the jelly feeling in her legs to disappear. After what seemed like an eternity, Mary climbed out of bed and turned on the lights so she could select a different set of night clothes from her dresser drawer, as well as a pill bottle. She walked down the hall into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door.

Her body was covered in sweat, so she decided to rinse off with a cold shower. Mary stood in the shower for ages, resting her head against the shower wall, letting her thoughts wander as the water flowed down her body. The shower did nothing to calm her anxiety, so she turned off the water and climbed out, grabbing a fluffy yellow towel to wrap around her body. She looked in the mirror and thought with come humor that she looked like a pale Big Bird. She dried off quickly and put on black sweatpants and a black nightshirt, hanging the towel over the shower rod.

Once she was dressed, she picked up the bottle and removed the lid. The pills in question were for anxiety and not many people knew she was taking them. Mary was embarassed enough over the pills she already took: the last thing she wanted was to look even more like a mobile pharmacy. Only her father knew she took them and he actually encouraged her to take the pills. They were to be taken as needed, so Mary removed three from the bottle before shutting the lid.

She took a paper cup from a nearby cup holder, filled it with water and used it to wash down the pills. Once she was finished, she picked up the bottle and walked back into her room. When she entered her room, she placed the pill bottle in her purse, in case a certain nosey detective decided to do some snooping. She turned off the light and climbed into bed, momentarily jolting Tally out of his slumber, iliciting a hiss from her peeved tabby. Mary mumbled an apology and tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position.

Her constant moving about was the final straw for Tally, who gave a final hiss, swiped her with his paw, and stormed out of the room. Her alarm clock read three o'clock and Mary spent the next next few hours tossing and turning, unable to fully succumb to slumberly desire.