Are You Listening to Me? Read online

  Other Books by Mary M. Cushnie-Mansour

  Novels

  Night’s Vampire Series

  Night’s Gift

  Night’s Children

  Night’s Return

  Night’s Temptress

  Night’s Betrayals

  Children’s Titles

  A Story of Day & Night (novel)

  The Day Bo Found His Bark/Le jour où Bo trouva sa voix

  Charlie Seal Meets a Fairy Seal/Charlie le phoque rencontre une fée

  Charlie and the Elves/Charlie et les lutins

  Jesse’s Secret/Le Secret de Jesse

  Teensy Weensy Spider/L’araignée Riquiqui

  The Temper Tantrum/La crise de colère

  Alexandra’s Christmas Surprise/La surprise de Noël d’Alexandra

  Curtis The Crock/Curtis le crocodile

  Freddy Frog’s Frolic/La gambade de Freddy la grenouille

  Short Stories

  From the Heart

  Mysteries From the Keys

  Poetry

  picking up the pieces

  Life’s Roller Coaster

  Devastations of Mankind

  Shattered

  Memories

  Biographies

  A 20th Century Portia

  Are You Listening to Me?

  Copyright © 2017 by Mary M. Cushnie-Mansour

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the author through the website:

  www.writerontherun.ca or via email: [email protected]

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales are entirely coincidental.

  Ordering Information:

  Books may be ordered directly from Cavern of Dreams Publishing

  or through booksellers.

  A list of Cavern of Dreams publications is available on the 49th Shelf:

  http://49thshelf.com/Lists/Members/2015-26/Cavern-of-Dreams-Publishing

  Cavern of Dreams Publishing

  Brantford, ON , Canada

  1-519-753-4649

  [email protected]

  www.cavernofdreams.com

  Discounts are available for volume orders.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Cushnie-Mansour, Mary M., 1953-, author

  Are you listening to me? / Mary M. Cushnie Mansour ; illustrations

  by Jennifer Bettio.

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 978-1-927899-38-0 (paperback).—ISBN 978-1-927899-40-3 (eBook)

  I. Title.

  PS8605.U83A74 2017 C813’.6 C2016-901346-4

  C2016-901347-2

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank my friend, Brenda, for inspiring me to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) back in 2009. Being challenged to write 50,000 words in 30 days sounded epic to me, at first, until I broke it down into daily increments. “Are You Listening to Me?” was my first NaNo attempt, and I completed the 50,000 words in 11 days as the story started to take on a life of its own. I continued on, so enwrapped in the story had I become, and finished the novel’s first draft with just over 95,000 words in 19 days! I must also thank a couple of other friends, Ella and Myra, for reading the story and enjoying it so much that they encouraged me to publish it, and they suggested I write a Toby Detective series.

  Inspiration comes from many sources, and the initial inspiration for this story came from an old orange tabby cat sitting on a windowsill in a house in Hamilton, Ontario. As my mom and I walked past the house, there he was, just staring at us. I turned to my mom and said: “I wonder what the old fellow has witnessed looking out his window?” From there, I wrote the first story about Toby––The Witness––which was a three-part short story for the Brantford Expositor.

  My love and understanding of cats, something I believe I inherited from my mom, and her mother before her, is echoed loud and clear in Toby’s voice. Thanks Mom … and grandma Small.

  Again, as always, I would like to thank my editor, Bethany Jamieson, for her edit on the final manuscript, and Cavern of Dreams Publishing for publishing yet another of my books.

  Thanks go to Jennifer Bettio for the cover art. She managed to capture exactly how I wanted the three main characters in the book to look. Adding the finishing touches to my cover, as always, is Terry Davis from Ball Media. Collaborating with Terry to finalize the details is always a creative pleasure. And, never to be forgotten, Randy Nickman from Brant Service Press, for the fine printing job.

  As always, last, but never least, thanks to my husband and family for their continued faith in my dream.

  PREFACE:

  It’s been a while since my last big case, so I will jog your memory about who I am. My name is Toby, and I live with Jack Nelson, a retired cop. I used to be quite stout, but since venturing into police work, I have put myself on a rigorous routine of fitness and healthy eating. That doesn’t always work out for me because, as my nature dictates, I am inclined to be a tad lazy sometimes––most of the time, actually. And I never miss a meal or a snack if I am passing through the kitchen. My hair is red; I once heard someone say redheads were God’s chosen people, so I assume that goes for cats too.

  Now do you remember? Yes, I am a cat––Detective Toby. I solved a crime about six months ago when Jack’s friend went loony and kidnapped his own kids. I saw through him right from the beginning; Jack didn’t. If it hadn’t been for me, goodness knows what would have happened to those kids. I was a hero, and everyone was grateful to me. The police department awarded me with a framed certificate, which certified I was a ‘Class-A Detective.’ I was told I was welcome any time down at the police station, which I take full advantage of every time Jack visits the captain, Bryce Wagner.

  There have been a lot of changes in the past six months. Jack renovated the back door. I now have my own special cat door so I can come and go from the house as I please. Jack figured if another crime needed investigating, I wouldn’t have to wait for someone to open the door to get out and about detectiving if I had my own. There have also been some significant changes on the street. The old gym that used to be owned by Mardy Hampton was sold, and the new owners tore down the old building and are constructing a new one. I heard Jack say they were hoping to have it up and running by early spring. Jack has been talking about getting out of the neighbourhood for a time because he can’t sleep well with all the banging going on. Personally, I can sleep through most anything, but the 24-hour noise is starting to get to me, too.

  At first, I thought Jack was going to move us completely out of the neighbourhood, but was relieved when I saw him just packing for a camping trip in his old campervan. I knew he wouldn’t leave me behind since I accompanied him most places now. I won’t bore you with the details of our month-long excursion through Northern Ontario because it isn’t relevant to the story that is going to unfold in the pages to follow.

  Enough introductions. You know who I am now and you will be hearing more from me as the story of what happened during the summer of 2009 on the street where I live unfolds.

  Table o
f Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Preface

  Friday, May 1, 2009

  Saturday, May 16, 2009

  Tuesday, May 19, 2009

  Wednesday, May 20, 2009

  Thursday, May 21, 2009

  Wednesday, May 27, 2009

  Thursday, May 28, 2009

  Friday, May 29, 2009

  Saturday, May 30, 2009

  Monday, June 1, 2009

  Tuesday, June 2, 2009

  Wednesday, June 3, 2009

  Friday, June 5, 2009

  Saturday, June 6, 2009

  Sunday, June 7, 2009

  Monday, June 8, 2009

  Tuesday, June 9, 2009

  Thursday, June 11, 2009

  Friday, June 12, 2009

  Monday, June 15, 2009

  Tuesday, June 16, 2009

  Friday, June 19, 2009

  Monday, June 22, 2009

  Tuesday, June 23, 2009

  Wednesday, June 24, 2009

  Thursday, June 25, 2009

  Friday, June 26, 2009

  Monday, June 29, 2009

  Tuesday, June 30, 2009

  Wednesday, July 1, 2009

  Thursday, July 2, 2009

  Friday, July 3, 2009

  Saturday, July 4, 2009

  Sunday, July 5, 2009

  Monday, July 6, 2009

  Tuesday, July 7, 2009

  Wednesday, July 8, 2009

  Thursday, July 9, 2009

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Friday, May 1, 2009

  C

  amden Gale had decided it was time to move on. He knew his sister would not be happy about the decision, but he had accomplished everything he’d needed to here. He was also aware Doctor Hatfield wouldn’t be happy, and he dreaded the lecture he was about to receive. Camden pushed open her office door. The secretary scowled at him. He was late, as usual––something her boss continuously chose to overlook. It was an inconvenience to the other patients because Doctor Hatfield always took the full amount of time with Camden––sometimes even longer.

  The secretary was going to relish the day he would no longer need the doctor’s help. Of all Doctor Lucy Hatfield’s patients, this one gave her the creeps.

  “Would you like me to book you in for next week, Camden?” she asked.

  “That won’t be necessary. I won’t be returning.”

  The secretary couldn’t help the smile that slipped across her lips. “Oh, Doctor Hatfield never informed me…”

  “She doesn’t know yet.” Camden noticed the smile. He had never liked her. She was pretentious. Maybe she should have been one of his Chosen, but at the time he was considering his options, he had figured she would be too close to home. Besides, she never went to the gym, which would have made it tough. Camden smiled back at her. The secretary looked away from the underlying evil in his smile.

  Doctor Hatfield opened her door and beckoned Camden in. “Hello Camden, let’s get started. Would you like a drink?”

  The secretary winced at the possibility of having to serve him something, but to her surprise, he declined. Camden sat in a chair in front of the doctor’s desk––not his usual place. Doctor Hatfield looked surprised.

  “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable on the couch, Camden?”

  “Not today, doctor. I won’t be here long.”

  “You have someplace else to be?”

  “You might say that.”

  “Mind sharing?”

  “Not your business.” Camden’s voice had a sharp edge to it.

  Doctor Hatfield tapped her pencil on the paper pad. She took her glasses off and studied the young man in front of her. He wasn’t what she would call handsome, but he wasn’t difficult to look at either. His crow-black hair curled tightly to his head, and his penetrating blue eyes were set deep in their sockets. Camden’s nose was sharp, but not overly large. His lips spread thinly above a rounded chin. His skin had a permanent tan to it. Camden was of a medium build, and Doctor Hatfield noticed the rippling muscles in his arms: he clearly benefited from the gym where he was employed.

  Camden had been assigned to her about six months before––a troubled young man with a history of mental illness, according to his records from former therapists. Doctor Hatfield had made progress; she thought she was breaking through Camden’s tough exterior. She had discovered the little boy under the crust and was beginning to draw him out, helping him deal with his many past issues, she believed. But looking at Camden now, she saw the return of the hostility she had dealt with during the first couple months.

  “Okay, Camden, this is your choice. I don’t have to know where you are going.” Doctor Hatfield smiled.

  Camden liked her smile. It was genuine. She was genuine. Not like some of the other doctors he’d seen—he had seen right through them. But Lucy––that is how he referred to her in his thoughts––she had been serious about trying to help him, so he allowed her into places he had never allowed anyone before. It had felt good, at first. But then the old urges had started to return, especially after he had begun working at the gym. He started being more cautious with her, careful about what he shared. Careful because he didn’t want to make a slip and end up back in the hospital again, or worse.

  “This’ll be my last visit,” Camden stated.

  Doctor Hatfield raised her eyebrows. “Oh, why is that, Camden? We are making such substantial progress; do you think it is wise to stop now?”

  “Actually, I’m moving. I’ve been offered a job at a new gym in Brantford, Ontario. I need a change. So does my sister.”

  “How does Emma feel about the move?” Doctor Hatfield had met Emma a couple times. She was Camden’s twin sister––a solemn young woman who barely spoke. Emma had a much softer look than her twin. She was the opposite colouring, her skin being the shade of cream, with poker-straight, strawberry-blonde hair kept in a long braid, which brushed against the small of her back. Her eyes were blue, like Camden’s, but they were a vibrant blue made even more outstanding by the black circle around the iris. Her tiny, button-nose had a light sprinkling of freckles, and her lips were full, but not pouty. Emma’s body looked frail beside her brother’s lean muscles, and she was about five inches shorter than Camden.

  Emma had a passion for plants and that was one thing Camden made sure his sister had lots of. He had built her a little greenhouse at the back of their rented house, and it was full of exotic foliage. Lucy couldn’t see Emma wanting to leave her home.

  Camden smiled. “She’s excited.”

  “Is she really?”

  Camden picked up the doubt in Doctor Hatfield’s voice. What kind of game was she playing? And why now? It was beginning to appear she was just like all the others, just taken longer for her spots to show. “Yes, she’s excited––very excited,” Camden confirmed. “In fact,” he continued, “it was her idea to move. She doesn’t like this place. Vancouver is becoming too dangerous. Just the other day she was telling me there’s too much crime, she wanted to move. She reads the news all the time; my sister is terrified of living here. I wouldn’t make this move if it weren’t for her.” Camden thought that would satisfy the doctor. Placing the blame on Emma should take the heat off him.

  “I see. I hadn’t realized Emma was so unhappy here. You never mentioned it in any of our sessions.”

  “I didn’t see the relevance of declaring my sister’s desires when it was me you were supposed to be helping. And, help me you have,” Camden’s voice was smooth, almost sweet. “I feel good about myself. I feel ready for what life has to offer me, and I thank you for that.”

  Doctor Hatfield stood and came around her desk. She stopped in front of Camden, sat on the edge of the desk, and studied the young man. Yes, he had come a long way, but, in her professional opinion, not far enough. Especially over the past month. She had noticed several dark, delusional moments that had flickered through during their sessions; however, Camden had been quick
to cover them up. “If you like, I can look up the name of a good therapist in Brantford for you,” she suggested.

  “Won’t be necessary.” Camden saw the worry in Doctor Hatfield’s eyes. “Tell you what, if I feel myself falling, I have your number. I’ll call you … I can still talk to you if I don’t live here, can’t I?”

  “Of course.” Doctor Hatfield returned to her chair.

  Camden stood. “Well, Doctor––Lucy,” he dared to call her, thinking, what the heck, it was probably the last time he would ever see her. He extended his hand. “I guess this is it. Thanks again for your time and for all you’ve done for me. You’re better than most.” He smiled again.

  Doctor Hatfield took his offered hand and shook it. His fingers were cold. She looked into his eyes and saw the iciness there and wondered if she shouldn’t try harder to follow through on exactly where he was going and if he was really going to be doing what he said he was. The story of getting a job at a new gym fell in with the kinds of jobs he had held in the past, and with his current one. But lately Camden had voiced lots of dissatisfaction with working there. He had complained that most of the clientele were phoney at the best of times and that he felt they didn’t appreciate him for all he did for them. He’d even gone so far as to blame some of them for a couple of the reprimands he had received. It was in the moments he was sharing such information that Doctor Hatfield saw his darkness the most.

  “Good luck, Camden. Keep in touch … I mean that.”

  Camden smiled––stiff and deliberate. “Sure, doctor, I’ll make a point to do that.” He turned and walked out of the office.

  He didn’t bother to acknowledge the secretary. If only he had a bit longer in Vancouver, he would show her. But things were closing in on him––heating up––he needed to move on. All there was left to do was go home and tell Emma. At least this time he had everything in place ahead of time. He had a job and had rented a house just down the street from where he would be working. He had seen pictures of the house. It would be perfect for Emma and her plants, with its three-season room attached to the kitchen.