Lancaster Green Chapter 4
James slept in the next day. He’d left headquarters at six the night before, with instructions from Amelia not to do work when he was at home. And he wasn’t going to. Not when the thanks he got from that fucking place was telling him to just not eat anything on a potential poisoning case. Oh, and get this case done by Friday or your team gets fired.
So he went home, ate a couple bites of dinner with Graham, then got blisteringly high after Graham left to see Madelyn. He vaguely remembered watching TV and maybe eating something, possibly the cranberry-orange muffins Graham made. And that was probably the solution to his eating problem. Get high enough to sleep and high enough to eat. Definitely no consequences to worry about there.
When he woke up the next morning, it was nearly ten. James didn’t remember the last time he’d slept that late when he hadn’t worked a late night shift the night before. He took his time waking up, feeling groggy, but good as he got up and showered. He barely even thought about the feeling of being pushed underwater until the enchantment had broken just enough for his friends to get through to him.
Barely. He still washed his hair quickly.
But he made coffee and ate some toast for breakfast, so overall, things were going well. He looked out the glass balcony door for a little while as he sipped his coffee. The cameras were still there and Bradley was going to come by after work today to take them back. Though he’d said that Graham and James could keep them as long as they needed to. When he made that offer, James had meant to say something about his squirrels taking advantage of his unguarded bird feeders, but the joke wouldn’t come out.
He could see headquarters from his balcony as he went out there to finish his coffee in the cold morning air. Unlike what everyone at work claimed, James couldn’t actually see into headquarters from here. But he could see the front yard somewhat through the trees, and the side of the house if he angled himself at the far end of the balcony. Right now there were a couple cars parked outside and it was comforting in a pathetic kind of way.
He went back in and laid down on the couch. There were other things he could be doing, a lot of other things. But James didn’t feel like doing any of them right now. The apartment was pretty clean, he’d done some laundry and dishes last night before and during frying himself. And it didn’t smell bad, something he’d tried to be sensitive about. Yeah, having a roommate dealing with a nervous breakdown was going to be bad anyway, but if James could manage not to make the house reek while he lost his mind, he owed that to Graham. After all, Graham might not have been on the kill list, but he had definitely been in danger.
On second thought, the floors could use some work later.
He turned on a kung fu movie from Graham’s vast DVD collection and laid back down, half dozing and half watching. Something was nagging at him, something he’d forgotten about today. What was it? Something at work?
Then a knock at the door made him nearly fall off the couch.
It was her.
No, of course it wasn’t her. While the Foundation hadn’t found her and probably didn’t give much of a fuck if they ever did, they said their sources – whoever the hell those might be – said she was probably in Europe by now. Somewhere in Europe, getting away with what she’d done.
Just Europe, nothing more specific than that. But James had a feeling that was bullshit. She could be on fucking Jupiter for all they knew. Or on the common in downtown Leominster.
For all they knew. Which was nothing.
He looked through the spyhole and saw his younger cousin Angie standing there, a large box in her hands. Of course, that’s what he had forgotten. Angie had been delivering packages of weed today from her friend’s farm in nearby Hubbardston and said she’d stop by.
James undid the heavy deadbolt and opened the door. “Let me grab that,” he said, taking the box out of her hands and bringing it inside. “Come on in.”
Angie followed, closing the door behind herself. She was about Gabriella’s age and they looked a lot alike, at least to James. They both had long blonde hair, though Angie’s was choppy and Gabriella’s was currently longer than she probably liked it to be. But they looked like Gran, more than other people in the family, with small noses and freckles. Angie tended to wear heavier makeup and she looked a little older than Gabriella did. It was likely the cigarettes she kept smoking and James couldn’t technically judge, but he did disapprove. Even though she was currently keeping him supplied with weed. So he kept his mouth shut.
“How are you?” Angie asked, pushing a lock of hair out of her face.
“Decent,” he said, pretty much truthfully. “How are you?”
“Fine,” she replied with a shrug. “Starting my new job tomorrow.”
“Yeah?” James asked as he opened the box. “What is it?”
“Reception at a twenty-four hour gym in Fitchburg.”
“Nice, congratulations.”
She shrugged again. “It works for a while. Hopefully when Della gets everything approved, I can work there.”
James bought enough from Della lately that he could probably cover Angie’s paycheck on his own. “That’d be great,” he said.
“Yeah. Hey check this one out,” Angie leaned over the box and dug through until she pulled out a bag neatly labeled Batch Seven Angie. “I grew these ones. I babied this shit.”
“Yeah?” James pulled out the pack of rolling papers she always tucked in the box and started rolling a joint from Batch Seven Angie. “You got a little while? Come smoke some with me.”
He expected her to refuse, but she followed him out to the balcony. “I’ll have a little,” she said, leaning against the wooden railing. “I’ve got errands to walk around here, but if I get busted driving stoned, my mom will kill me.”
James laughed and lit the joint, taking a long drag before handing it to her. They shared it in silence for a few minutes and, as he sat here, he felt it loosening some of the tension he’d been feeling since yesterday when he got to work.
“You can see my work from here,” he said to Angie.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.” James pointed. “Look between those two trees, that gap there? Second house over.”
Angie laughed. “I think I’m delivering to a house on your street. St. Margaret’s Way, right?”
“Where is your headquarters in Leominster?”
“Seventy-Two St. Margaret’s Way.”
He’d told her so easily. And when she told him to give her his key, he’d taken it off the ring without even questioning it. She could have walked right in at any time and done whatever she wanted.
Angie laughed. “Shit, it’s on top of you already?”
James broke out of his shame and laughed a little, taking another drag. “It’s good,” he said. “You did good. Do you like this work?”
Angie nodded, holding out her hand to refuse as he offered her the joint again. “Yeah,” she said. “I mean, I’ve liked smoking it since I was twelve.”
“Jesus Christ, Ang,” James muttered.
“Hey, shut the fuck up,” she said lightly. “But I got to know more about it through Della and, like, all her work. She did the agricultural program out at UMass Amherst and graduated last year. And her parents had this warehouse space, so she’s growing in there and it’s all grow lights and nutrients and chemistry. And it’s cool. I really like that part of it, trying all the different ways to grow it best.”
They smoked in silence for a few minutes and maybe it was the weed or maybe it was some actual healing or whatever. It was probably the weed. But James said, “I didn’t hurt my back.”
“I know.”
He looked at her. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I’ve seen similar shit,” Angie said. “And, like, you don’t have to tell me the details. But yeah, I figured you didn’t just hurt your back and that was it. Plus I asked Gabriella if you were okay and she said no.”
James blinked, trying to tell himself it was just the smoke stinging his eyes. “Did she say what happened?” he asked, bracing himself.
It was all over the Foundation, he knew that much. If other teams had volunteered to help while he was out, then the story was getting around. And he knew that those administrators he heard Jolene and Bradley yelling at weren’t necessarily going to keep things quiet. Especially when James had already made enemies at the Foundation before all of this. James getting compromised was like Christmas Day for some of them.
But the idea of anyone in the family knowing was too much. Even now, comfortably high, he couldn’t make himself think about what it would be like if his whole family knew he got mind-controlled and tried to kill his friends.
His mom had texted earlier today. Had she seemed concerned about him or was he reading into the message too much?
“No,” Angie said, to his relief. “And I didn’t ask. But you sounded like shit when you called me, so I was worried.”
He kind of remembered that phone call. He’d gotten some pre-rolls from the dispensary and they’d worked fine. But even as he smoked, he’d thought about how someone could put something in here. The chances were slim, but they were there.
But Angie had mentioned her friend at a family event and how she was trying to make her operation an actual business. So he asked her, she said sure, and he thought maybe that was the end of that.
But apparently he’d sounded bad enough that Angie, his other little cousin, had been worried about him.
“Plus there’s all of this,” she said, motioning toward the camera strapped to the railing between them. “I noticed it the last couple times I was here.”
“Bradley’s taking them back today,” James said, as though that explained everything.
“You look a lot better now, though,” Angie said.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Still old and tired, though.”
He laughed loudly, offering her the joint again. She took it. “I am old and tired.”
“Then there you go.”
She handed him back the spent joint. “I gotta get going,” she said. “There’s some brownies in the box too. I made some extra, I know Gabs likes them.”
“Thanks.”
Angie reached up to hug him and he let her, her hair brushing against his chin.
“By the way,” Angie said as she was getting ready to go back into the kitchen. “Auntie Jules’s birthday party is at the end of the month. She said to let you know.”
“Thanks,” James said, his stomach twisting at the thought.
Angie smiled, then left.
***
After Angie left, James had spent some more time cleaning the apartment and had even considered going for a walk around the neighborhood. But it was like every time he turned around, there was another memory of the horrible shit he’d done under Adele’s influence. And after about an hour of trying to ignore it and just focus on cleaning, he’d caved and lit up another joint. It was more of Angie’s batch and he held onto that idea as he smoked, until everything softened enough that he could go back to cleaning.
Like before, he froze for a second at the sharp rap on his front door. Then he glanced at the time and realized that Bradley’s shift must have ended. Sure enough, when James looked through the spyhole, Bradley was in the hallway, hands shoved in his pockets as he studied the spring decorations Graham had put on the door.
“Hey,” James said as he opened the door.
“Hi,” Bradley said awkwardly. “I’m here for the cameras.”
“Right, yeah, come in,” James said, stepping aside. “How’s it going?”
“Fine?”
“Good.”
The evidence of his cleaning was still scattered around, sprays and paper towels on the floor and the broom leaning haphazardly against the step up to James’s room. His music was going, something loud and modern, because when The Kinks came on his playlist, he’d been reminded of his mother’s unanswered text and changed it immediately.
He wasn’t wearing his gloves right now. That made sense, he was just at home so there was no need for them here. Adele hadn’t managed to get into the apartment, partially because of the cameras Bradley was here to pick up.
“Are you sure you’re done with them?” Bradley asked as James led the way to his balcony. “I don’t need them back right away.”
“Yeah,” he said, waving off Bradley’s concerns even as nerves tightened in his stomach. “You should have your cameras back. I’m fine.”
If he told himself that enough times, then eventually it would have to be the truth.
“Right,” Bradley said. “Tell me if you want them again.”
James grinned at him and managed to clap him on the shoulder as Bradley looked unconvinced. “It’s fine.”
It took a couple tries, but he managed to cut the cameras down from the railing on his patio. Bradley scooped them up and started putting them into his backpack. When they were done, the railing looked uncomfortably naked. It was all too exposed.
Had he called Bradley to take them? Yes, he had. Or, he’d texted him. He remembered that now. It was a couple weeks ago, but Gabs had deleted that text that was keeping James from going into his phone. And he’d asked when Bradley was coming to get his cameras. But then so many things got in the way and now he was here to take them.
But what if James was being controlled right now? What if she was telling him to get rid of the cameras so that she could come back? That might put Graham in danger again, right? And James would have no way of knowing.
James walked back into the kitchen. Bradley was behind him, cramming the cameras into the backpack, which was too small for all of them. He went over to the sink, where the plate he’d used for toast a few hours ago was still sitting, waiting to be washed. James picked it up, then smashed it on the counter.
“What the fuck?” Bradley demanded, nearly tripping backward over the trashcan.
He wasn’t being controlled. But James knew exactly how weird that looked. Graham was used to it. At least, he was used to it the same way that anyone who had worked in healthcare would be used to erratic behavior like that. But now Bradley was looking at the broken dish, all the ceramic pieces splintered over the counter and onto the floor. He dropped his bag and went out into the living room, coming back a second later with the broom James had abandoned out there.
“I’ve got it-” James started, embarrassed now that the fear had subsided, but Bradley ignored him as he swept the shards into the dustpan and silently dropped them in the bin. He then picked up the trash can and a washcloth and steered the remaining broken pieces off the counter and into the trash.
“Sorry,” James said quietly as he set the trash can down.
Bradley shrugged. “Are you sure you don’t want the cameras?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Bradley studied him in that slightly too intense way he had. “Get me a hammer.”
“What?”
“A hammer. I don’t have one in my bag.”
Was Bradley planning to put James out of his misery? There was a small hammer in a glass jar on top of the fridge, so James fished it out and handed it to Bradley, who went back out onto the balcony without a word. James wanted to argue as Bradley took one of the cameras out of his bag, along with a couple nails he’d clearly brought with him. He wanted to mention his security deposit, or the fact that he didn’t need a camera anymore because she wasn’t coming back. But he didn’t say anything as Bradley nailed the camera to the wooden railing.
Bradley came back in and handed James the hammer. “Thanks,” James said quietly.
“Do you need anything?”
“Want to stay and get fucked up with me? I know you’re not on until later tomorrow.”
“I have an appointment in a couple hours.”
James tried not to be disappointed. Just because he was somewhat ready to see people again didn’t mean that their lives were going to stop for him. “Yeah, of course. What’s the appointment?”
“None of your business. How many dishes have you smashed?”
“None of your business.”
The camera Bradley had nailed into place was looking directly into the kitchen. If anyone came into the house, James or Graham would see it. “Right,” James said. “Maybe I’ll, um, not. I’ve been smoking too much, anyway.”
“It’s your life,” Bradley said with a shrug.
“It’s just, you know, I have to think about other things at work,” James said without prompting. “Or at least try to. But here, I’m alone and don’t really have anything I need to do. Which is fine,” he added quickly, as though maybe Bradley would take that as a hint he should cancel his appointment and babysit his former captain. “And last night I had a lot. This morning was fine, though. I slept in and my cousin came over for a little while. And I wanted to clean. But I was like, maybe I could stay clear-headed today and manage not to scream the whole time. But she brought stuff and then I just kept thinking about…” James sighed. “So, you know.”
Why was he babbling? Bradley didn’t give a shit about any of this. And even if he did, he was getting off a long work shift and apparently had more to do. He didn’t need James here spilling his life story.
“Do you need anything before I go?” Bradley asked again.
“No,” James said. “I’m alright. Thank you for coming. I should have just brought them to work, but-”
“You live two feet away from work, it’s fine.”
“Right,” he said, shaking his head sharply. “Right. Yeah.”
Bradley narrowed his eyes as he studied James, but James just shook his head again. “Really,” he said. “I’m good. Don’t be late for your appointment. See you at work tomorrow?”
Bradley left a moment later and James picked the broom back up, trying to find that motivation to clean again.
