New York City, USA
Tom Wellis was standing still in front of the tombstone. Engraved with Kathryn name, that piece of stone became a knife slashing his mind everytime he came by. He often felt like he would like to cry out, stab at the ground vehemently with his own feet. Tom tore undone every single slide of memory that haunted him in there. It was his confessional, whatsoever his thoughts undertood by confessions.
It was Kathryn´s mother who asked for seeding that stone in there through one of her phone calls. He never understood that ludicrous idea at all. What´s the point in buring nothing anyway? Why is that insane need for hurting oneself endlessly? He didn´t argue over that; it didn´t worth. Just did as he was told.
What Tom didn´t foresee was that by pleasing her, he would turn slave of that tombstone. So, in all dates related to Kathryn he got used to visiting the wholy field expecting some peace of mind in return. Never came to that. And that day, his lunch with Marylin Sawyer made him to go one more time, out of the costumary dates, just to ask the nothingness for the kid he could probably have somewhere. The more he strove for getting sense of all Kathryn mystery, the more senseless an outcome other than death seemed to be. «No chance that child would be mine, Kathryn. Whose then?», he managed to think, Even if she was actually pregnant, the child must had been gone as well.
Far at the horizon, a storm grew closer and menacing, though sunlights still fell on his face. At this time, only a few suffering relatives wandered through cementery making the whole field look like a dessert. Though, this was the first thought of a place for him to escape to after lunch time. However, he had to go back to the office as the Seven Priests´ file remained momentarily unfinished. The rain could ruin his plans for this afternoon at the office. And he had to gather the time to mull over this case. US Government was pushing hard to cut it off.
Attorney Mike Donald would be visiting him later that afternoon. Of harsh temper, court scandals and several good ended trials gave him such a stiff personality rubbing the monster everybody thoght of him. Tom didn´t even know how Mike came to be involved in this case. He´d rather Mike hadn´t got. How in the earth could anyone want to defend these so-called Seven Priests, anyway? Mike had won his reputations mostly bacause of the guys he had represented, all dregs of the business network, involved in corruptions, murders, sex harassments, even drug traffic. The profits of these cases would certainly overcome any moral and ethical issue he could have. Mike wasn´t the guy who´d stop striving for what he wants, less due to such foolishness.
However, Mike Donald seemed to him kind of weird at this scenario. Not that he would expect Mike to soften his character as attorney nor would he seriously think all the idle gossip about the attorney would be out of context. But, the last few sessions on court had been disturbing for Tom as Mike behaved extremely aggressive along with the whole forceful campaign New York Time had launched on the case. Mike had definitely hardened his temper, making the whole process longer and more thorough than any other case.
It started drizzling. Clouds were piling high up, though, sunlight still filtered through them. Tom would have to hurry up if he didn´t want to get wet. It had been much of Kathryn for one day. Hopefully, the rain would wash out her memories for a while. He turned his back at the tombstone in no time at all. Put back to his eyes the sunglasses stepping away from there. As he walked, rain got thicker. So did his thoughts; Kathryn, Seven Priests, Mike Donald, all of them haunted him persistently.
Past the next right corner, Tom left behind a Wolfvagen car, all in black, pulled over since he got there, Tom figured out. No one had got off nor in. The car just stopped there. But no evidence pointed out it would be chasing him. Or maybe, it was. Marylin could have decided to follow his car till the cemetery or wherever he would head to. Would that be even thinkable?
Tom kept walking in a sluggish manner. His suit started to get wet enough for feeling the coldness. He would have to change it at the office. Fortunately, he used to bring another suit with him when heading to the Federal Building. That was an old habit he had got into as long as he could remember. A cautious man he was. The kind who would feel uneasy as the Wolvevagen started moving after him. And he did. Now, all the worries of being chased came to sense; though, no apparent reason ocurred to him. Tom speeded up taking a shortcut till where his car was parked. The black machine still biting his steps, did alike. Whoever was driving had the clear intention of letting him know. By then, it was pouring. Tom could barely see few steps ahead. What once seemed to him a dessert, turned to a sea.
Once Tom neared his car, he slow down until came to a halt. There´s no point in running away. He didn´t even know what this guys wanted from him. If they pursued him for killing him, wouldn´t have they done it already? With the back on the wolfevagen, Tom thought of each and every possibilities for what anybody could follow him. Only Seven Priests´ case or any other court file came to be logical enough. He turned back and faced the wolfvagen, which had come to a halt as well.
No one seemed to be interested in getting off. He put his hand to his forehead as a peak, and with the other hand waved to the driver to get off. Few minutes passed over till the driver door opened. The brown hair of a woman slightly backcombed discovering the pale face, though older, of Kathryn.
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