Free A Guardian of Innocents by Jeff Orton

everything, didn’t—“
    I nodded, not allowing her to finish. As the anchorwoman on Channel 8 droned on about tonight’s top stories, Kimber pondered my request, wondering why in God’s name did I need her asshole of an ex-husband’s last name.
    I responded before she even had a chance to ask, “I could also use some other info if you have it: address, phone number, driver’s license number maybe. It might save me some time.”
    Her eyes grew very wide just then. She knew exactly what I meant to do. The thought of Galen’s death triggered a malicious satisfaction within Kimber, but she was horrified by the illegality of it. She was afraid I would surely get caught and lead the authorities back to her, and possibly Pete.
    I shook my head, feeling such a strong empathy for what she and Isaac must have gone through. “That won’t happen. I’ll see to it.”
    From down the hall, a toilet flushed, “Nothing will be traced back to you, I promise.”
    “Promise what?” Pete asked. I felt uneasiness spring to life in him as he observed my hand upon his fiancée’s wrist.
    “Promise to visit again soon!” I responded with a warm smile as I looked back up at my cousin.
    “Oh, you’re leaving already?” Pete asked, with a note of genuine disappointment.
    With my hand having already slipped off Kimber’s wrist, I offered it to him for a farewell handshake, “Yeah, I’d stay and help clean up, but I don’t want you or Kimber to catch whatever this stuff is I’ve got. I need to get home.”
    “Ah, don’t worry about that. We don’t make guests clean! I’m just sorry you feel bad.”
    After a brisk handshake combined with another one-armed hug, Pete inquired again, “Are you sure it wasn’t something you ate? Anything taste funny?”
    “No, no, no,” I assured him, “I’ve felt a little nauseous all day. I just didn’t want to cancel dinner tonight cuz I was looking forward to meeting ya’ll.”
    Pete was all smiles. “Me too. I’m glad you came tonight, Phil.
    We said our farewells. The dogs escorted me once again out of the driveway, keeping pace with my truck.
    *          *          *
    It was later, much later, that night when I got a call. I awoke in bed just a few seconds before the phone rang. I found that my hand was reaching for the receiver before I was even halfway awake. I got it just as the first shrill chirp of the phone shattered the silence of the old house in which Doris and I resided.
    The conversation with Kimber was very brief and to the point. Pete was asleep, but she couldn’t sleep herself due to she was internally wrestling with her conscience about whether or not she should give me the information I requested.
    Ever the careful, plotting bastard that I am, I advised her, “Look, the phone just rang in the middle of the night, and my mother might pick up the phone any second. So let’s just choose our words carefully. Okay?”
    Catching on, she replied, “Yeah. . . Yeah, okay.”
    I orated my disposition very matter-of-factly, “Whether or not you want this to happen is irrelevant. It’s going to happen. After what I saw tonight, I’m convinced that if Shit-for-Brains is allowed to continue playing his games , that more people besides you and Isaac will end up. . . losing. Do you understand?”
    “Yes.”
    “Good. Now if you don’t want to give me the information, that’s fine. I can probably find most of what I need in the records sections of the public library. What I’m saying is that this will be done; it’s just a matter of time. If you want to help, that’s great. I can get this done all that much sooner. So what’s it gonna be?”
    Kimber remained silent for several seconds. Then the floodgates opened. All this information poured out of her. Last name, social, date of birth, where he worked, where he liked to hang out, the way he talked with that slight Jersey accent he was never able to fully get rid of after moving down here.
    I had to