Press Your Luck 45 (Patreon)

The morning after the shocking call Valerie and Danny went to the morgue to identify the body, Lucy electing to stay home just in case Jefferson's goons or the cops showed up. Danny still being Harlow's closest emergency contact, the siblings were allowed to be the ones to identify the body. The added bonus of course was sparing Samantha the pain of having to identify her child’s body or worse risk her being able to tell it wasn’t her son. According to Valerie the resemblance of John Doe and Harlow was both sickening and uncanny. The body belonged to an unknown homeless man who met his unfortunate demise when he had taken refuge from the heat in the undercity, one of Las Vegas’ numerous tunnels built to prevent flooding in the street above and only becoming aware of the sudden storm above when it had begun flooding the area.  Lucy's paranoid decision to stay behind proved to be at least half right, as the police had been present as well during the identification.

While the siblings were off identifying the fake body of Harlow Elwynn, Lucy had a brief but angry phone call with Dr Crane which consisted of him biting her head off for attempting to blame him. Lucy found out that despite having gone over everything else needed to fake Harlow’s death, she had never confirmed any specific time frame or to wait until she told him she was ready. The realization hit Lucy like a ton of bricks. That had been the day that Valerie surprised Lucy. She had simply assumed they had finished their conversation when she thought about it days later. Crane explained finding a body that matched so closely to Harlow’s had been so lucky as to border on a miracle and when the doctor could not get ahold of her he gave the medical examiner the go ahead. “This is the last nicety I’ll do for you. Never contact me again.” He said bitterly and hung up the phone.

From there things moved rather quickly. An obituary was placed in three local papers, announcing the death of the much beloved Harlow Elwynn and where and when the memorial service would be held. A week later from the fateful call Lucy stood in the kitchen, staring at the small box sitting on the podium that now held the real ashes of the fake deceased Harlow Elwynn. Lucy scanned the house with a frown. The number of mourners for Harlow Elwynn could fit comfortably in a compact car. Besides his mother, Samantha, and his aunt Linda only one other person came to say goodbye to Harlow and that was Sammy. The last they spoke he had denied Harlow help to save his own skin. At the time Harlow imagined Sam to be cruel and selfish but now sitting in the living room watching him wringing his hands she wondered if Sammy was feeling guilty in some way. Danny and Valerie were both there but they both knew the truth.

The rest of the so-called mourners consisted of Harry, Ray, and Naomi, and judging by what Lucy could overhear from the kitchen, they seemed to be present only to offer their support and condolences to Samantha before eventually saying one variation or the other of “I didn’t really like him but I know you two were close.” The only other two guests at the memorial were Oswald and Marcus. But Lucy doubted either of them were there to mourn their loss.

Lucy’s thoughts were interrupted by her mother, “Scuse me. I just need to get this.” She said as she took another dish out of the oven, setting it next to the two casserole dishes she had already made. Samantha had arrived yesterday afternoon and in that time she cooked brunch, lunch, dinner, and dessert before Linda had slipped a valium into her drink. Samantha didn’t even question when she had fallen asleep or how she had been put into Valerie’s bed in the master bedroom. She simply woke up and immediately cooked breakfast for everyone. At five in the morning. When everyone had woken up at seven she cooked a fresh breakfast followed by brunch. Then an early lunch. After which she began cooking dinner, and then the meals for the memorial service.

“Mo-Mrs. Elwynn, we told you we would take care of all of the food.” Lucy said, stumbling over her words. It was strange to be calling her own mother by her last name like some stranger. ‘I guess, like, to her I am. ’ She reminded herself.

“And I told you to call me Samantha.”

“Sorry, m-Samantha.” Lucy awkwardly adjusted the sleeves of her dress.

By far what Lucy wore today was the most conservative dress she had worn since becoming Lucy. Searching her closet for an appropriate dress for a memorial proved fruitless, the closest she had was a little black dress that barely covered her thighs or a single strap dress that came at least to her knees, but exposed far too much of her cleavage and her hips. Normally, Lucy would relish the amount of attention such a dress would draw to herself, but this was different. She wanted to blend into the background. She wanted to be looked over. She didn’t want her mother to think she was dressed like a tramp.

Luckily Val agreed to go to the mall with Lucy and in the end the pair spent all day hunting for the right dress for the occasion. Valerie had suggested several dresses that fell far below the knee had been deemed “Frumpy.” by Lucy. But remembering who what it was for she tried them on anyway. The frumpy dresses were hot and itchy and called to Lucy’s mind the suits her mother forced him to wear when they went to Aunt Linda’s wedding.

Finally they agreed they found the perfect dress. A long sleeved, black, square neck bodycon dress paired with a pair of matching kitten heels which Lucy now wore and suddenly wondered if she should have suffered in the frumpy dress if she was going to be this close to her mother.

“I know and that’s sweet of you all but you couldn’t possibly make this right.” She said with a smile as she stuck a fork into the casserole. She started to blow on the forkful she had scooped out but stopped when she realized what she had said, “I’m sorry that…that came out horribly.”

“You’re fine.” Lucy whispered, licking her lips as she tried not to fall into the beloved scent that now entered the kitchen, mingling with the other delicious scents that had permeated the room already. “I-is that…”

“We got beef tamales.” She said pointing to the first dish, “The pozole is nearly done.” She pointed her thumb to the large pot still on the stove. “This here is spinach-artichoke tuna noodle casserole.” She smiled happily. “It’s Harlow’s favorite. Though he used to call it a Spartan casserole when he was little.” She giggled. “I guess he really liked the movie or it made it easier to eat.”

“It’s just a cooler name.” Lucy giggled and licked her lips.

“Harlow used to say the same thing.” Samantha grinned, “Would you like to try some?” She asked and held out the forkful of food for Lucy.

‘God yes!’ Lucy thought as she licked her lips again, adding even more of a shine to her already glossy lips. “I…I’d love to.” She admitted simply before she stupidly ate the entire dish like a ravenous racoon with the munchies. Lucy wrapped her lips around the fork. Harlow moaned happily as the first bite hit his tongue. The noodle to cheese and spinach and tuna ratio was pure perfection like a warm hug from a long forgotten dream.

“But this,” She said, cutting a small slice of the cake off with her fork and offering it to the taller redhead, “is his absolute favorite. Cinnamon roll cake.”

Lucy bit her lip hungrily. Not only that, the Spartan casserole, and the pozole with a side of beef tamales were her favorite dishes her mother ever made. Samantha wasn’t kidding, her cinnamon roll cake was Lucy’s favorite so much so she, or rather Harlow, had asked for it for every birthday. She would eat it every day if she could. There was only one problem. Every so often Samantha would forget and make the cinnamon roll cake with raisins sprinkled in, which Harlow hated. He would eat all he could anyway, secretly picking out any raisins he could find while she wasn’t looking so as to not upset her. ‘There’s, like, a thirty percent chance there’s raisins in it.’ She thought to herself. But staring at the flaky crust, with a thin layer of vanilla icing drizzled all over the top, Lucy couldn’t help but think, ‘Best odds I’ve had all year.’ And happily bit into the small corner of offered cake. The delicately gooey taste of cinnamon danced wonderfully with the hint of vanilla against. Just as Lucy was about to release another moan she halted when she bit into a raisin. Her blissful smile quickly evaporating into a pout.

“What’s wrong?” Samantha asked, seeing the pout come to Lucy’s face.

Lucy coughed and covered her mouth quickly as she forced herself to choke down the raisin infestation. “It’s, like, nothing.”

Samantha turned and looked at the cake, noticing the raisins inside of the cinnamon swirls for the first time. “Raisins.” She muttered. “I forgot…I always forget Harlow hates…hated raisins.” Samantha said gravely.

“It’s fine,” Lucy said, going to the fridge and pouring the last of the milk in a glass for herself. “It’s fine. I’ve, like, swallowed worse things.” Lucy giggled nervously. As she was taking a drink of her milk there was suddenly a loud thunk beside her. Closing the fridge door she saw Samantha had thrown the entire cake in the trash. “What are you doing?!”

“It has raisins. So I might as well throw it in the trash where it belongs!” Samantha snapped back.

“What? No!” Lucy whispered loudly, looking towards the door to ensure they were alone, “I just, like, I mean the others might like it.”

“Oh I’m sure!” Samantha yelled back. “I’m sure they’ll just love the tamale’s–” she said as she picked the plate up and tossing it into the trash–“ and the spartan casserole–” she tossed the dish into the trash with the sound of breaking porcelain and glass–“or the pozole!”

“Mo-Mrs-Samantha! Stop!” Lucy hissed and tried to grab a hold of Samantha’s arms. “Mom, stop!” She begged fruitlessly. “Calm down!”

Samantha whirled around and slapped Lucy’s hands away as she tried to pull her away and bore holes into Lucy. “Why?! He won’t get to enjoy it!? He won’t ever again!” She shouted and hurled the still steaming pot towards the trash, missing and scattering its contents on the floor just as Danny had rushed into the room, hearing the screaming and breaking of plates. “My baby is gone!” Samantha wailed and fell into Danny’s arms.

After getting Mrs. Elwynn calmed down Danny sat in the living room. ‘I understand the logic behind not telling Lucy’s mom the truth right now. I really do.’ He cast an eye towards the sliding glass doors where Samantha sat with Linda who did her best to comfort her grieving sister. ‘I can even understand  ignoring what I know people like Marcus and Oscar really do, I can even understand smiling and being friendly towards them. Even letting them come into my family home!’ Danny ran a hand through his hair, ‘God damn, how much further can I go?!’ He twisted his fingers into fists until his knuckles whitened under the strain of tensing muscles.

Danny unclenched and clenched his fists again and again as he thought, 'Harlow, back when Lucy was Harlow.' Danny shook his head. He knew Harlow was always Lucy on the inside, but his thoughts were directed at how he knew his friend before she was brave enough to share her intimate truth. 'Harlow did this sort of thing constantly when we were growing up.' Dozens of memories came to mind; Harlow tricking kids out of their lunch money with obviously rigged games of chance, scamming neighbors with promises of lawn care if only they would pay gas money up front for the lawnmower, setting up fake donation boxes, and pretending to sell wrapping paper that would never come only to drag Danny into it when people were too suspicious of Harlow and he needed a trustworthy face or unknowingly being the bait in three card monty games which he always seemed to win but no one else ever did? ‘Why should I expect Lucy to be any different?!’ ‘She was different…’ he thought with a heavy frown. ‘But deep down Harlow had always been Lucy,’ he knew that, ‘Why would things change now?' He asked himself.

‘How much more of my soul am I going to be asked to sacrifice? How much more am I willing to sacrifice?’ He pushed the air out of his lungs in a huff and walked out onto the front porch. ‘I’ve already hurt people working as Elana’s bodyguard.’ He thought bitterly, ‘But mom always said, “Violence is violence, no matter the cause.” and yeah sometimes I stopped worse violence from occurring to a sweet kid, but violence was still done by my hand. How long before they ask me to do more? Would they justify it to me, or would they ask and I justify it to myself and chip away at more of my soul? Just how far am I willing to go if I’m willing to let an innocent woman suffer so much pain for someone I love?!’ The pain in his chest grew tighter. He glanced back over his shoulder as if he could see through the walls into the kitchen where Lucy cleaned up the mess left behind her mother.

“I need to get out.” He said out loud.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Marcus said as he stepped out onto the porch. “It’s getting a little melodramatic in there.”

“She just lost her son.” Danny growled. He knew it wasn’t true, Harlow was alive in Lucy, but Samantha’s pain was real.

“I know.” Marcus muttered as he lit a cigarette in his mouth, “This is why I don’t like dealing with families.”

“Then why are you here?” Danny asked, unable to keep the contempt out of his voice.

Marcus eyed him before blowing the smoke out he had been holding in his lungs. Silently he reached into his jacket pocket and for a moment saw Danny’s body tense up. It was a subtle thing that most wouldn’t have noticed without the experience of being in at least a few dozen brawls in their lives. “Settle down.” He said with a smirk as he pulled out his phone. “If I was gonna do ya it wouldn’t be here and now. I’d like to think we’re better friends than that.”

‘I’m not your friend.’ Danny thought but didn’t say, “You know we, me and Oscar, are here to make sure our mutual friend Harlow isn’t secretly hiding somewhere.”

“He is.” Danny said. Briefly shocking Marcus. “He’s in the urn in the living room.”

Marcus chuckled. “You’re funnier than you look.” He said with a smirk before adding, “Follow me.” He ordered. Danny remained as motionless as a steel pillar. “Please?” Marcus asked with a tone that said he was used to people asking how high when he said jump. Danny slowly followed beside Marcus. Danny was keenly aware that he was being led away from the prying eyes of potential witnesses should anything happen. “I heard you’re trying to go pro?”

“Yeah.” Danny said curtly.

“How’d that come about?”

Danny thought for a moment how to answer as he didn’t want to cast any suspicion on Lucy, “I had a friend who heard about it and s-they passed it along to another friend who contacted one of the coaches.”

Marcus let out a long whistle, “Man, that’s some friend.”

Danny nodded. Ever since Harlow had come back and used this opportunity to be her true self…she had been a better friend for the most part. ‘She even apologized. Harlow had never said he was sorry as long as I knew him.’

“So you’re gonna leave us, huh?”

“Assuming I get recruited.”

Marcus nodded, “You know…if you want I could make a couple calls. Help you out maybe. Just so’s it’s a sure thing.”

‘What would he do? Call and threaten the coach?’ Danny wondered, ‘Definitely his style. But no, it’s easier to just bribe him.’ Danny felt the justification already forming in his mind, and it did make sense. His dad always told him he was destined to go pro while they threw the ball in the backyard and after every highschool game. He would’ve gone pro years ago if it wasn’t for Harlow’s interference. Marcus or one of Jefferson’s other faceless lackeys would bribe the coach and Danny would be on the team. Not that he didn’t deserve it. It would just be less stressful, less hours killing himself in the garage trying to ensure he had a place on the team.

Maybe then Jefferson would blackmail the coach to fix games, shave points off scores to make sure they made a spread. ‘Maybe the team wouldn’t necessarily have to lose either. Just not win by as much as they might have.’ Danny tried to comfort himself, ‘And he would have me too. That’s a coach and a quarterback under Jefferson’s thumb. Any game we played they could control the outcome. Netting them millions.’ And Jefferson could do that for the rest of their careers. If he got traded to a new team would he still be under Jefferson’s control? ‘Sure.’ He thought, the justification for that forming in his mind as well, ‘He got me my start after all. And I’d already done more than enough to be blackmailed for.’  Danny stopped and faced Marcus. “Thanks, I appreciate that.” There were so many logical and selfish reasons to say yes. But; he thought of the countless hours he spent after school throwing the ball in the backyard with his dad, his father teaching him to throw the perfect spiral, his dad urging him not to give up or become disgusted at failure, the loud cheer that his dad had made when Danny finally managed to do it after countless failed attempts, the sound of his old man’s laugh as he tried to outrun Danny from one end of the yard to another, the pride with which his dad looked when Danny first made quarterback, those were the best reasons to say no. “But…no thanks.” He said, “I’d rather earn it on my own merit.”

Marcus smirked again, “I was just gonna call a physical trainer I know. Huge guy. Not as huge as you though, ya giant.” He laughed. “But sure.” And waved his hand as if tossing the offer aside, “I respect that.” He said and took another drag from his cigarette.

“Thanks. Is that all you wanted to talk about?” From where they both stood they could see the back porch behind Danny’s house where Samantha sat, still clutching her chest.

“No.” Marcus took a final drag off of his cigarette and stamped it out. “Like I said; we’re here to make sure Harlow’s not hiding anywhere. You wouldn’t believe how many people think they can escape paying what they owe just by faking their deaths.”

“Seems like a terrible thing to put the family through.” Danny’s hands clenched into fists inside of his pockets. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Lucy sitting beside her mother.

Marcus nodded, “Most of these scumbags don’t have families. So there’s not very many grieving widows and girlfriends we have to deal with.” Marcus chuckled and wagged his finger at a memory that suddenly came to him, “Though when the widows and the girlfriends meet…it can be very entertaining.” He shook his head with a smirk. The smirk faded when he looked at the still frowning face of Danny. “Anyways. Most don’t even leave a body. That’s where they screw up. How are we gonna believe you’re dead if there’s not even a body, right?”

“Right.” Danny forced his hands to unclench before taking them out of his pockets as he tried to keep the tension out of his voice. Preparing for the possible attack.

“Right? This ain’t the movies.” Marcus chuckled. “But with a body comes paperwork. Thank God I don’t gotta do that. So we have…contacts who do all that boring shit for us.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Marcus nodded. “So we didn’t know where Harlow’s mom had gone, which suited me just fine, I really don’t like hurting mothers.”

“Right.”

“So of course doing this kinda thing we check things like emergency contacts and we already had eyes on you, obviously. But her not being here…” Marcus paused as he opened his phone and looked through some downloaded document, “...that made that harder so we got a tap on her phone.” Danny straightened as his back muscles tensed, ready to spring into action if called upon. “Just the odd calls here and there in the same area code. My guys tell me it’s Florida, so I guess that’s where she’s been.” He shrugged, the information no longer mattering to him or his job as he tapped on his phone. “Until, of course, our guy’s body was found. Then she called you.” Marcus lifted his head from his phone and looked the large man in the eye with a sympathetic frown, “Geeze, that had to be a terrible conversation.”

“It was.” Danny glanced at the small black object hanging by a leather strap under Marcus’ coat. ‘His gun’s still holstered.’

“Sorry, man.” Marcus nodded sympathetically and watched Danny’s eyes in his peripheral as he turned back to his phone and finished typing something. “So she called you, but before that she called a number that had called her about a week before. That number…was a local number. I’m willing to bet that number belonged to Harlow.” Danny’s pulse quickened and his lungs filled with oxygen as Marcus hit a button on his phone. The loud ringing filled the silent street as the two men stared at each other.