Programmed for Peril

business plan for a new, better PC-Pros. It included an executive vice-president to run things day-to-day. Trish realized she had tried to do too much herself. Now with a more ambitious plan for growth and expansion in place, such a position was indispensable.
    The problem was that a large amount of capital would be needed to resurrect PC-Pros and raise it to the next competitive level. Again, Stoneman to the rescue! He was prepared to offer her a loan on most generous terms. “The Marylou Venture Capital Fund,” he chuckled, because her mother had coaxed him into it, though it wasn’t that difficult.
    Shortly after PC-Pros’ official resurrection Marylou had a stroke. It put her in bed with movement and speech problems. She was mending, but it was clear that she wouldn’t ever be the same again. The doctor was honest: Subsequent strokes were to be feared. A nurse’s services would be required, at least for the short term. So Trish’s moving herself and Melody into her mother’s house made great sense. The money she had spent to rent the Victorian rambler could now be used for three-day-a-week nurse’s visits. At night and on weekends Trish would be there. Melody would brighten her grandmother’s life with her music and chatter. Marylou was kind enough to say her affliction was completely unrelated to the collapse of her daughter’s marriage plans.
    Seemingly indestructible and relentless, her mother at last proved to be neither. While her shaping of Trish the child and adolescent couldn’t be reversed, the forcefulness of her personality was now softened. The mantle of domestic power passed to her daughter. With it came some new perspectives for Trish that carried healing and forgiveness with them. Daughters before a mirror never saw themselves alone; Mother stood always at their shoulder. The lucky saw help there; the unlucky, horror. She supposed Marylou wasn’t that bad. She hoped Melody would one day have as good to say about her.
    Monthly Trish visited three graves, stared down at new stones: Tran, Nicholas, and Champ. She always took flowers, even in winter. The largest bouquet was for Carson’s brother, to whom she owed her life. Hadn’t he clumsily sought redemption from an indentured life of violence and murder in the hope of love? That it had been misdirected and lunatic love she didn’t think mattered at all. Who could unravel that emotion’s many mysteries—or its powers?
    During darker moments, though, she thought of Champ as Carson in yet another form. He had worn his brother’s face often enough and worked his will with equal demonic genius. The love that had saved her had destroyed him. As though through clouds of silk she saw love and evil perpetually at battle.
    No matter before which of the three graves she stood, she always wished she had a fourth upon which she could heap ashes or silent abuse. Carson had no grave, because his body had never been found.
    How many times had she reviewed the events following her fast exit with Melody from the tiny apartment? Safely away, she had found a pay phone. Her first call was to Lois Smith-Patton. To her she gave the bad news about Nicholas and the location of his body. She owed her poor gangling friend that favor. She then tried to reach either Jerry Morris or Pete Sarkman. Neither was available. She told the officer on the phone what had happened. It was never clear later just why there had been a long delay in the cruiser’s arrival at 2260 Manifold Boulevard. It was suggested that Trish’s call had at first been thought a prank.
    The two-hour delay gave apartment dwellers a chance to investigate the gunshots. The open door and silent rooms invited both entry and curiosity. Later questioning by the police failed to satisfactorily establish who had first entered Apartment 724, or who might have departed with Carson’s body.
    A rumor was heard later that Lois, in a fit of rage over her brother’s death, had at once ordered bodyguard Branch to go to the apartment. His job was to remove Carson’s remains and dispose of them without benefit of clergy. Trish didn’t doubt that Lois was that vindictive and hateful. It was the logistics involved that baffled her. Branch was questioned while protected by a battery of expensive attorneys. No reason was found to continue that line of investigation. Nonetheless, gossip persisted.
    Not surprisingly, Lieutenant Sarkman was particularly officious and bullying when taking Trish’s deposition.