A State of Grace Pt. 01

"What's wrong with this picture?" he asked.

"I don't know what you mean, Kev," I said.

Kevin gestured all around the basement. No, not at the basement in general, at the walls.

"There is something...off...about the basement. It's been bugging me since the day we moved in. Can you tell what it is?"

I'm a pretty intelligent person, not to toot my own horn. But, I don't have Kevin's detail-oriented mind. As a consequence, I tended to lose this game far more often than I won. Nevertheless, I gamely looked at all four of the basement walls, trying to see what might be "off" about them. After a few minutes, I admitted defeat.

"Honestly, I don't know, babe. Why, what do you see?"

Kevin frowned again, and gestured at the north, south, and east walls.

"These three walls are concrete."

He then pointed at the west wall, beneath the stairs.

"This one is drywall. That is very odd, don't you think?"

I didn't really know what to say to that, but that was okay. He continued on just a moment later, anyway. He pointed at the small, covered drain in the cement floor.

"The placement of drain, considering the proportions of the room doesn't make sense, either. And then, there's the ceiling. That is really what's bothering me."

"Huh? The ceiling?" I said, bewildered now.

He nodded firmly.

"Yes, the ceiling," he replied, with a patient tone. "Look closely, Love, and tell me what you see."

I did as he asked, looking closely. The ceiling was the same generic, blandly inoffensive false ceiling you see in most office buildings. It consisted of cheap aluminum slats that support regular, rectangular panels that were interspersed with fluorescent light fixtures. I don't know much about building materials, but I know that this sort of material shows water stains very quickly and easily. I didn't see any evidence of water stains here, so that wasn't what got Kevin's attention.

I looked around the basement ceiling again, trying to see what else might have struck him as "off." This time I looked at each individual rectangle. They were all the same size, although at the corners of the walls, they had had to be trimmed to fit in places. Well, that made sense, I thought idly. The panels were all one size, but the house hadn't been built to same exact dimensions. There would need to be some trimming to make them fit neatly, right?

I followed the ceiling from wall to wall, and that's when I finally picked up on it. When the false ceiling panels reached the wall beneath the stairs, they didn't end, they instead seemed to pass over it. That was odd! There should have been another of those aluminum slats to support them, but there wasn't!

I pointed this out to Kevin, and he grinned at me and swept me into a quick hug.

"Good, Gracie!" he exclaimed. "There's something else, too."

I looked around but didn't really see anything else.

"Okay, what else is there to see? I just see an open space with some exercise gear."

"Exactly!" he agreed. "It's an open space. Where is the support column or pillar?"

"Okay, Kev, you lost me again," I admitted.

"This basement doesn't match the dimensions of the house above us," he said, gesturing at the measuring tape on his equipment belt. "I know because I've checked. That isn't all that unusual. But, given the way the basement was dug, and the load of the structure above us, there ought to be at least one support column or pillar to help support the weight of the house and keep the floor above us relatively level. I don't see a single one, just open floor space. Yet despite that fact, the floor upstairs doesn't have an appreciable sag, does it?"

"Not that I've noticed, anyway," I agreed.

Kevin pulled a claw hammer off of his belt and lightly tapped the wall beneath the stairs.

"This wall is clearly not a load-bearing structure," he said, thoughtfully. "It's not fastened to the ceiling, or the floor above. In fact, I not sure it's even bolted to the basement floor. It probably isn't a part of the original floor plan at all. So the question in my mind is, what's behind it?"

"You think this is a false wall, Kevin?" I asked, a little incredulously. It's not that I thought he was stupid. But Kevin was studying to be an electrical engineer, not a structural engineer. This wasn't his element. Granted, it wasn't mine either. But I couldn't help thinking that my loving brother might be seeing things that weren't necessarily there.

"Don't you think that's a little too 'James Bond' for a private investigator in a mid-size town in southwestern Indiana?"

"Maybe," he said with a diffident shrug. "But then again, maybe not. Look, we both know Trent was into some highly shady stuff. We know he had something going on with that Police Detective – Billy was his name, right? Anyway, we don't know what prompted Trent to attack the guy. We don't know why, after all these years, he finally decided it was time to kill his family."

Oh. So that's what this was about.

"Kevin, honey," I began cautiously. "The human mind is an imponderable. Some are strong, some not so much. Sometimes, minds break down, just like a motor. But unlike a motor, there isn't always a clear answer as to why they break. Sometimes, we never get to know the answer."

The excited grin slowly faded from his face as he gazed at me. Then his eyes fell to the floor.

"I see," he said, softly. "You think I can't handle having killed a man, so I'm inventing some kind of mystery to solve to justify it."

He looked back up at me, meeting my eyes again.

"Is that what you think, Grace?"

Actually, it was almost exactly what I thought, but I wasn't about to say that to him. I loved this man with all my heart! He needed my love and support, and I was going to give it to him. But at the same time, I wouldn't be loving or supporting him if I acted as an enabler and went along with his fantasies. ( At least not these types of fantasies.)

"Kevin," I said, "I think you've been through an ordeal no one should have to face. You are a very strong person, and there is absolutely no shame in admitting that you might be a little overwhelmed by what happened! It wouldn't make you weak, Kevin! Just human!"

I sighed softly.

"Maybe it was a mistake for us to move here. Maybe we should have taken an apartment or something, instead."

"Look Gracie," he began, a little angrily, "I'm not an idiot, I'm not suffering from guilt over shooting that evil bastard, and I'm sure as hell not a card-carrying member of the tinfoil hat brigade! There really is something more going on here than someone snapping and trying to kill us! I think it's something we need to look into if we're going to keep ourselves safe in the future!"

"Safe from who?!" I asked, with a pointed look. When I saw his face crumple, I realized how that question must have sounded.

"Kevin, sweetheart..." I had to try and talk him down before he got really upset. "Kevin, I never said I think there's nothing more going on. I agree that the fight between Trent and Billy that we saw on Kelly's video would seem to indicate a situation beyond our knowledge. I also agree that it's something worth looking in to. But honey, we aren't police officers. We aren't even PI's! There are people who handle these kinds of things, Kevin, and we aren't those people!"

I stretched out a hand to touch his face, but he pulled away from me.

"I'd better go get ready for work," he said, quietly.

"I'll fix some breakfast and pack you a lunch," I said, hurrying to follow him up the stairs.

He shrugged sullenly as he reached the top of the stairs.

"That would be nice, if you feel like it," he said.

My heart felt like a lump of granite in my chest as his tone of voice registered with me. He didn't sound angry or sad; his voice was hardened and flat. It was as if the realization that I didn't share his suspicions – or share his need to dig into them – had crushed him. I felt truly awful at that moment. I knew I'd hurt him, but I just couldn't go along with this conspiracy theory he was building. If I did, if I fed whatever need inside of him that was driving it, I wouldn't be doing him any favors! In my judgement, it was better to hurt his feelings now than to help him create some sort of scenario where enemies lurked behind every corner. Madness – true madness – lay not too far in that direction.

I fixed us some scrambled eggs and sausage for breakfast. While he ate, I packed his lunch box and filled his thermos with coffee. I also made sure his battered old rucksack was packed, then I set them both by the front door. He stood up from the table just as I returned to the kitchen, wiping his face with a napkin.

"Thank you, Grace, it was good," he said, flatly. "I need to go, now."

"Kevin!" I called out, as he slipped past me.

He paused at the door, his head half-turned in my direction.

"I love you, Kevin!" I said in a fierce tone. "Don't you dare forget that!"

###

The next week or so was tense between us. There was no other word for it. We didn't fight or argue. There was no name calling or berating each other. I'd like to think we were both too mature for that kind of crap. But there wasn't any tenderness to speak of, either. Kevin seemed closed off to me, and I was frankly at a loss as to what to do about it. I couldn't make him talk to me if he didn't want to!

Our sex life suffered. We went from our usual once a night loving session, to just a single time (and that one time I practically had to wrestle him to get him to do me!) So, when my friend Crystal called and asked to come see me, I jumped at the chance. She and her daughter Kayla came over that Friday night for dinner.

Kevin answered the door, letting the two of them into the house. Kevin had no sooner closed and locked the door than he was enveloped in a firm, sensual hug. Crystal rubbed her curvaceous body against him. He returned her hug much more platonically, then gently (but firmly) disengaged himself from her. Kevin was used to Crystal's behavior, of course. Crystal couldn't really help herself. I guess I should take a second and explain.

Crystal is around 26 years old. She doesn't know exactly, because she doesn't know her birthday. You see, Crystal isn't her birth name. She told me once, in strict confidence, what her birth name is but I don't think I have the right to share that with you here.

Without going into a lot of unnecessary – and graphic – detail, here is the bare bones of Crystal's story. She was born somewhere in the former Eastern Bloc, probably Serbia or the Czech Republic, based on her strong Slavic features. She was taken when she around 3 years old. It's not clear whether she was kidnapped by the white slavers, or she was sold by desperate family members. It doesn't really matter either way.

Her childhood was a miserable one; she was condemned to a life of drudgery, cooking and cleaning for her masters. At that, she was better off than many of the other children she met who'd been taken around the same time as her. Of course, once her body started to develop womanly features, the slavers found other, more profitable activities for her.

They made her into a prostitute, but not just a street walker. They made her a high-priced escort. Her time commanded top dollar from whatever client she was given to. She didn't just provide sexual release to her clients! She was expected to provide intelligent conversation on a variety of topics. She was also expected to behave like a lady at galas and parties.

In order to keep a firm leash on her, the slavers forcibly got her addicted to several different drugs. Unfortunately (for them, that is) they had to provide her an education, in order for her to act like an educated lady. That would later backfire on them, fatally. You see, in addition to running drugs and prostitution rings, the criminals who ruled her life had another income stream: babies. They would occasionally stop giving a select few of their prostitutes the contraceptives they needed. When they turned up pregnant, the babies were sold.

When Crystal became pregnant, she was determined that her baby wasn't going to suffer the fate of those other babies. Her child was going to live free – or die with her mother, if it came to that. I don't know how Crystal did it (she won't talk about it to this day) but, she managed to kill several of the men responsible for keeping an eye on her. She then simply walked away from it all.

No, I'm sure it wasn't that easy. Like I said, she won't talk about it even with me, and I'm her closest friend. But eventually, she made her way to the United States. She got off of the drugs, and earned not one, but two different degrees, all while raising her daughter.

Some women – hell, a lot of men! - who'd been through something like that would be content to relax and live off the refugee allotment the government provided her with. But Crystal wasn't the type to live on someone else's terms! Like I said, she got a real education for herself and put it to good use.

She works with the FBI, Homeland Security, and Interpol, tracking all sorts of illegal activities online and blowing the whistle on them. She's also a very successful real estate investor. Her portfolio of properties is truly impressive, and she makes a very comfortable living just from what her rental properties bring in each month.

However, you don't go through what she did without picking up scars. In Crystal's case, they ran deep. She has a tendency to try using her body to get her way, and she acts seductively towards everyone she meets (both men and women). She fights the tendencies hard, but most of the time – like with Kevin a moment ago – she doesn't even realize she's doing it. This, and other issues, has made it difficult if not completely impossible for her to form normal, loving relationships. She's a very sexually-driven person. She's even had me a few times, and I'm as heterosexual as can be! I've never mentioned that to anyone before, not even Kevin, but there it is.

After Kevin disentangled himself from Crystal, she plastered herself against me, making sure she pressed her full, round breasts against me. Her hand stroked tenderly down my flank, coming to rest on my ass and squeezing tightly. I returned her hug platonically, much as Kevin had, and then gently pushed her away.

"Oh, sorry, Gracie," she said quietly.

I smirked at her and shook my head.

"I doubt that!" I replied, with a smile.

She smiled back as the sound of a little girl's laughter filled the living room. We turned together to watch as Kevin lifted Kayla into the air.

"Look!" he said, "She's finally done it! Kayla has learned how to fly! She's a leaf on the wind! Watch how she soars!"

Kevin swept the girl carefully in a graceful figure 8 over his head, accompanied by her delighted squeals.

"Higher, Uncle Kev!" she laughed. "I wanna touch the sky!"

"You'll probably manage to do that someday, squirt, but not today. I don't think my arms are long enough!"

Kevin carefully lowered the ten-year-old girl to the floor and planted a tender kiss on the top of her head. She smiled up at him, her face aglow with the simple, unconditional love you can only get from a young child. When Crystal and I became close friends years ago, I'd naturally introduced my brother to her. Kevin had been with Kelly, then, and he was completely faithful, so he had no trouble resisting Crystal's advances. But the then 4-year-old Kayla had the teenage Kevin quickly wrapped around her little finger. She didn't see him as a father figure per se, but there was clearly a strong bond between them.

"I bet you'll never guess what your Aunt Gracie made you for dinner!" Kevin said, squatting to look Kayla in the eyes at her level.

"Fish sticks!" she yelled gleefully.

"Nope!" Kevin replied. "She's made you some yummy asparagus burgers with cauliflower sauce! And, she's made a great side dish too! Broccoli and bean sprout casserole!"

The two of them stared each other down for a long moment, then at the same time, they both scrunched their faces up and cried, "EEEEwwww, that's so GROSS!"

Grinning, Kevin scooped the little girl back up into his strong arms, and the two of them lead the way to the kitchen table. We had a pleasant dinner together. Afterward, we watched some Disney flick and chatted casually. After that, Kevin settled Kayla down in the guest room. While he told her a goodnight story, I talked to Crystal about what had been happening.

"So you and Kevin, huh?" Crystal said when I'd finished. "I had wondered about that."

"You had?" I asked, surprised.

"Gracie, I know you better than just about anyone else – except maybe Kevin, of course. I can tell when you're in love. You like the others, but you never really loved them. Or at least if you did love them, it wasn't the kind of head-over-heels passion you feel for Kevin."

Crystal leaned back comfortable and crossed her legs, her short skirt giving me a flash of her barely-there thong.

"Gracie, I will be the very last person on this earth to judge you! Frankly, Kevin's a better man than anyone you've ever dated. You've got a man who will never leave you, never hurt you, and will die for you if he has to. I'd give up everything I have – except my baby girl – to have that!"

I smiled and looked at the floor for a moment. Then I told her about what had happened in the basement. I held nothing back, even confessing my fears about Kevin's mental state. She listened attentively, her eyes never leaving my face. When I finished, she pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"Did you ever stop to consider that Kevin might have something?" she asked.

"Oh Crystal, not you too!" I said plaintively.

"Grace," she said, "I didn't know your uncle Trent at all, and from what you've said, I'm not sorry that's the case! Still, there's a lot of anecdotal evidence that he was into some really bad shit. If I were you, I wouldn't be satisfied that it was all over!"

I looked at her incredulously.

"You can't mean that! Do you really think we'll be murdered in our bed by some secret cabal, or something?"

Crystal wasn't smiling now.

"I think I have a slightly better feel for how the criminal underworld works than you do, Grace," she said quietly.

That caught me up short, and I felt like a complete jerk.

"I'm so sorry, Crystal. I didn't mean-"

"It't alright, Gracie," she said, resting a hand on my thigh. "I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just that my instincts are telling me that Kevin just might be right. At the very least, you ought to see if there really is something behind that wall."

"I can't just go to Aunt Lilly and say 'Hey, d'ya mind if I try to punch holes in your basement wall? I just wanna see if your late unlamented husband had any naughty stuff stored away back there!'"

Crystal considered me for a moment before she spoke again.

"You said the room he used as an office was nearly untouched, right?"

"Yes," I replied, cautiously, and she shrugged.

"Well, if it were me, I'd look there first."

"I was thinking the same thing," came Kevin's voice.

Startled, I spun around to see him emerge from the hallway. He settled himself between Crystal and me on the couch, and gently removed the hand that automatically reached for his crotch.

"Kayla?" Crystal asked.

"Out like a light," Kevin replied.

"How do you always get her to go to sleep so fast?"

"Oh it was easy. I just read her the first two pages of my last term paper!"

The three of us shared a laugh at that. Then Kevin looked at Crystal.

"Feel like an adventure tonight?" he asked, standing up again.

"Always!" she replied, eyes glowing.

Kevin sighed as he deflected yet another crotch-seeking reach from Crystal.

"Poor choice of words on my part," he said, under his breath. "What I meant was, care to take a look at the infamous office?"