Chapter 3

FILLIAN WAS thankful that his work schedule was somewhat predictable, at least for now. He had Thursdays off for practice, and with their matches scheduled for Sundays, he was golden there too. “You have to give your father and me your game schedule so we can watch you play and cheer you on,” Mom said as he sat at her table making his way through a stack of her blueberry pancakes. She and Dad spent two weeks in a small town a few hours north every year, and the property had wild blueberries. Mom and Dad picked the berries while they were there, and she froze them to use all year long, making her pancakes something extra special.

“I will.” He didn’t have a game today, but he had one next week. This Sunday was an extra practice to help get them ready to face the Blue and Red team, or as Fillian thought of them, the carpet guys. And he wanted nothing more than to wipe the floor with them. One thing Fillian was self-aware enough to know: he was very competitive, especially when it came to rugby. “Next week is the first one, and then we have a game each Sunday. Thankfully they’re no farther than Hershey.”

“As long as they’re played while it’s light.” She put a plate in front of Dad. “Your father can’t drive as well at night.”

“Verona, my driving is just fine. You’re the one who has trouble seeing after dark,” Dad groused, even as he threaded his fingers with Mom’s. “And I called the eye doctor and made you an appointment.”

Mom growled. She hated doctors, saying they were always looking for something to be wrong.

Fillian let the two of them play out their love dance and tucked back into his breakfast. The back-and-forth between them had been going on for as long as Fillian could remember. “If you two are done with your foreplay.” He finished the pancakes and drank the last of his coffee.

“Get out of here,” Mom scolded with a smile. “You have practice, and your father has things to do.”

“I do?” Dad asked, and Mom gave him a list. He rolled his eyes as Mom sat down with her own breakfast. Fillian kissed her cheek and headed out.

“Call me if you need anything.” He left the house drove over to the rugby pitch. The guys were already assembling, and Fillian found himself standing around while they talked and gossiped.

“Uncle Stevie,” a young voice called, and a boy of about six ran across the field. Stevie scooped him up midstride and swung him around to peals of giggles. “I’m gonna woof,” he said, but continued giggling.

“Then woof all over Daddy,” Stevie said as Gregory approached, holding the hand of a little girl. Stevie set the boy down. “Do you have a hug for me, Marnie?” he asked, and the little girl came over more cautiously to give a hug and get a lift and a twirl. “You’re growing up so fast.”

“Yes, I know,” she said as though it were obvious. She stood so seriously and stepped back toward Gregory. Both kids looked like miniatures of him, with the same light blond hair. Marnie’s was to her shoulders, with a cascade of beautiful curls.

“Marnie, Weston, this is Fillian,” Gregory said. “He just joined the team.”

Weston looked Fillian over from top to bottom. “You’re big. Those carpet bastards are going to have a hard time getting around you.”

All the guys nearby snickered, and Fillian didn’t know what to say to that. “I hope so.”

“Weston, you know you aren’t supposed to talk like that,” Gregory said.

Weston shrugged. “What? That’s what Uncle Stevie said last week. He said the new guy was big and strong and that the carpet bastards were going to get their floor wiped. Didn’t you?”

Gregory narrowed his gaze at Stevie, who took a step back. Clearly, teaching the kid bad words was not to be tolerated. “I thought he was in bed.”

Weston put his hands on his hips. “I still heard you.” Then he turned to Fillian. “Uncle Stevie talks loud when he drinks beer.”

“I noticed that,” Fillian said. The kid was sharp, no doubt about it.

Weston blinked up at Fillian. “So are you going to kick the carpet bastards’ asses?”

Fillian knelt down. “How about this. I’ll try if you say ‘kick the carpet guys’ booty .’ Okay?” Judging by the looks he was getting from Gregory, Fillian did not want to get on Gregory’s bad side, and he had no doubt Uncle Stevie was in for a talking-to.

“Okay,” Gregory told the kids. “You two need to sit over there at the table under the tree. I packed things in your bag for you to do, and there are drinks and snacks.” He seemed a little frazzled. The kids hurried over to the table. “My mother couldn’t watch the kids, so I had someone else lined up to stay with them, but her mother got Covid and she had been around her part of the week, so….”

“Let’s get this practice started,” Coach called, and they all jogged out onto the field for warm-ups before the practice began in earnest.

ABOUT AN hour in, Fillian was a little winded, and during a break, he went to get a bottle of water. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he slowly let his gaze slip all around him. Something wasn’t right, and he had learned to trust his instincts. He tried to look past the people playing and walking through to park to see if there was someone who shouldn’t be there. Cops were trained to look for the out of the ordinary, the guy standing still in a sea of foot traffic or someone in a jacket in the summer. Kids yelled and played on the equipment on the other side of the park, while families stood near the creek to watch the ducks. All normal behavior. Fillian didn’t see anything unusual, and yet that feeling wouldn’t go away.

“What are you doing?” Stevie asked from next to him. “Checking things out to make sure no one is crashing our practice? You don’t need to be a cop here. You can be yourself.”

Stevie meant well, but something was bothering Fillian, and he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Weston sat at the table, and Marnie was just sitting down again, so the kids were fine. They went back to coloring, and Fillian kept searching, even as Stevie yammered on about something. Maybe he was imagining things, but as he continued watching, movement out near the start of the trail through the back of the park caught his attention. He watched as a man disappeared down the trail.

“You want another water?” Stevie asked, pulling Fillian’s attention back. Fortunately, whatever it had been, the feeling of being watched seemed to have passed. Fillian took a deep breath and thanked Stevie for the bottle of water, then downed it. He tossed the bottle into the nearby trash can, glancing back toward the kids’ picnic table. Then he returned his attention to where the coach was just calling them back to practice.

Fillian started jogging back toward the other players, but he glanced back one more time. Weston stood near the edge of the field, looking anxious, shifting his weight from side to side. Fillian hurried over, looking for Gregory, who had taken his place on the other side of the field. “What’s wrong, buddy?”

Weston pointed to the table, where Marnie now had her head down. “She says she doesn’t feel good.” She had seemed fine a few minutes ago. Still….

“Gregory!” Fillian bellowed, and the entire field came to a stop. Sometimes he loved his cop voice. Even Coach came to a stop, standing still as Gregory hurried over to the picnic table where Fillian had already sat down. “Do you think you’re going to throw up?” he asked Marnie, who shook her head. “Did you eat something?”

“Those berries,” Marnie said, pointing, and began to cry. Fillian pulled out his phone, dialed 911, and got right through to the operator.

“I need an ambulance in LeTort Park immediately. We’re located between the baseball diamond and the play area. Possible poisoning of an eight-year-old girl. This is Trooper Fillian O’Connell of the state police, and I need the ambulance immediately.” He stayed on the phone as Gregory comforted Marnie. “Do your best to keep her calm.” If what she’d eaten was poisonous, keeping her calm and settled would mean less of whatever she had eaten would affect her. “It’s going to be okay,” Fillian told Marnie. “Your daddy has you, and help is coming.”

Sirens sounded, quickly drawing nearer. The ambulance garage was less than a mile away, and the sirens grew even louder as the ambulance pulled in. Fillian directed them onto the grass and right up to where Gregory sat with Marnie.

His partner was the first to arrive. “Wyatt,” Fillian said as he saw the familiar face, “this is Marnie. She ate some of the berries over there. The black ones.” Marnie nodded to confirm, and Fillian’s partner got some of the berries and looked them over before picking some and placing them in a plastic bag. Then the paramedics got Marnie and Gregory into the ambulance, asking questions along the way.

“I’ll bring Weston to the hospital,” Fillian offered.

Gregory tossed Fillian his keys. “Take my truck. It has Weston’s car seat.” Gregory climbed into the ambulance, and the doors closed. The ambulance took off a few moments later. Fillian had worked with the paramedics before, and they were efficient, but they rarely worked that quickly. But like allergic reactions, poisonings were very time sensitive, and they could get whatever information they needed from Gregory while they were en route.

“Is Marnie going to be okay?” Weston asked, shaking a little.

Fillian knelt down. “She is because you got help right away,” he said before turning to Coach to explain that he was leaving as well. He gathered his gear and tossed it into the trunk of his car before using the keys he’d been given to unlock Gregory’s truck. Once Weston was inside and buckled in, Fillian pulled out and headed toward the hospital. This was not at all how he’d expected the practice to go.

He pulled in and parked, then took Weston’s hand as they headed for Emergency. He explained who he was and flashed his badge, which got him entrance immediately. They found Gregory in a small room with Marnie in bed.

“They don’t think the berries are poisonous, but they are making her sick. The doctors are still deciding what they’re going to do.”

Fillian sat down, and Weston climbed onto his lap. “I’m sorry you’re sick,” Weston told his sister quietly, leaning against Fillian’s chest.

“It’s going to be okay,” Fillian told Gregory softly as he sat next to him, Gregory comforting Marnie and Fillian doing his best to help Gregory and Weston. He took Gregory’s hand, holding it gently to try to give his support. Fillian had seen plenty of worried parents at work, and Gregory seemed out of his mind. His gaze kept going to the door, as if he could will the doctor to appear.

“Why doesn’t someone talk to me?” Gregory asked just as the doctor came into the room.

“I’m Doctor Rosco,” he said, smiling as he approached Marnie. “I understand you ate some berries.”

Marnie nodded. “They hurt my tummy.”

“I bet they did.”

“Am I going to die?” Marnie asked, and Gregory squeezed Fillian’s hand, growing even paler.

“No, honey. But the nurse is going to come in, and she’s going to give you something that will make you sick. We need to get the rest of the berries out of you.” He turned to Gregory. “We could pump her stomach, but getting her to bring it up more naturally is a lot less invasive.”

Gregory nodded, still pale and biting his lower lip. A nurse came in with a cup and a pan.

“Weston and I are going to step out. But we’ll be right outside if you need us.” Fillian smiled at Marnie and met Gregory’s gaze before taking Weston’s hand and leading him out into the hall.

“They’re going to make her throw up?” Weston asked in a stage whisper. “I throwed up once. It was yucky.”

Marnie’s door closed, and Fillian was grateful that they weren’t going to hear what was happening.

“Me too. It’s always yucky. But it’s how your tummy gets rid of bad things, and Marnie needs to get rid of the berries she ate.” He met Weston’s gaze. “Why didn’t you eat any?”

Weston shrugged. “I wasn’t hungry. I ate crackers with cheese, but Marnie wanted berries, so she picked some.” He leaned closer, and Fillian held his hand, the two of them standing quietly until the door to Marnie’s room opened and the doctor and nurse walked out. Fillian approached the door. He peered inside. Marnie was in bed, her eyes closed. Gregory sat beside the bed, even whiter than before.

“She’s going to be okay.”

Weston hurried to his dad and climbed onto his lap for hugs. Gregory held him as Marnie rested.

“They got a lot of the berry stuff up. They’re going to start an IV to help hydrate her and flush the rest out.”

“Like what I had?” Weston asked.

“Yup, just like you.” Gregory held Weston closer, closing his eyes. “There’s been way too much excitement these past few weeks. Lord knows I need some quiet time with a break from medical emergencies.”

The nurse returned, and Marnie woke up as she put in the IV. Fillian was impressed that Marnie held still and didn’t cry as she inserted it. The nurse talked to Marnie the entire time, telling her what she was doing, and once she got the fluid flowing, she made sure Marnie was comfortable. “The IV is going to take about an hour or so, and hopefully you’ll start to feel better by then.”

“Then I can go home?” Marnie asked.

“We all hope so,” the nurse told them before checking Marnie’s vitals and making sure the machines were set up before leaving the room once more.

“I don’t think this is what you expected to be doing on your day off,” Gregory said. “You don’t need to stay. There have to be a ton of things you could be doing that are more fun than sitting here with us.”

“It’s fine.” Fillian smiled and got a small one in return. Gregory seemed much less tense now that Marnie was on the road to recovery.

“Thanks for being here and for knowing what to do,” Gregory said as he smoothed Marnie’s hair away from her forehead. “I don’t know….”

As Gregory lifted his head, Fillian got a clear view of blue eyes as dark as the depths of the sea, filled with fear. Gregory had been through hell more than once in the past few weeks. He seemed brittle, in a way, and Fillian hoped he could keep it together for the kids’ sakes, but he definitely needed someone to talk to. He thought about taking his hand to let Gregory know he was there for him, but he wondered if that was a good idea. Still, how could he just sit still and let Gregory fall to pieces?