One Step Ahead

Family Matters

      "Briar Rose, that's hardly any way to speak about your grandparents," the balding, heavyset man admonished, as he glanced around the room, scowling.

      "Oh, you're right about that," she retorted. "But in case you didn't notice, I have visitors, so I'm trying to be polite. Besides, as the saying goes, honesty is the best policy." 

      "Honestly, can't you behave as though you had a proper upbringing, even in public?" her grandmother sighed, as she eyed everyone critically. "I hardly think we should be airing our dirty laundry in front of these people, so I suggest that you ask them to leave."

      "Like hell I will! 'These people' happen to be my friends, and anything you have to say, they're perfectly welcome to hear," Briar snarled. "They were invited, you weren't, so if anyone needs to leave, it's you two!"

      "Well, it's obvious that you've lost any manners that we ever taught you, along with your common sense!" the older woman snapped, stepping closer to the bed. "First we have to find out about your involvement in this... incident, by seeing it on the news, instead of hearing it from you. And now you're actually considering participating in this farce of a legal proceeding? This is totally unacceptable, we won't have it! I forbid you to attend this so-called hearing!"

      Before Briar could form a response, Yesenia Pruitt intserted herself into the conversation, stating, "Ma'am, you actually have nothing to say in the matter. There will be a trial, and Keith Harris will be prosecuted, whether you like it or not. And even if Briar weren't interested in cooperating, she would still be subpoenaed to testify, and would face prosecution herself if she refused."

      "I don't know who you think you are, young lady, but this is a family matter, so I suggest that you keep your pretty little nose out of other people's business," Briar's grandfather said. He offered a condescending smile as he spoke, which quickly vanished when she reached into her pocket and produced her badge.

      Leveling an icy glare at the couple, she replied, "I'm Special Agent Yesenia Pruitt, FBI. And this is Lieutenant Garrett Sanger. He's the supervising officer for the LAPD Homicide unit. So, since we have that cleared up, why don't you tell me just who it is that you think you are?"

      The older man seemed to shrink into himself slightly, a great deal of his bluster evaporating as he said, "My name is Anson Malveaux, and this is my wife, Beatrice. We're Briar's grandparents, and we came to check on her welfare, since no one could be bothered to contact us."

      "Oh, puh-leeze spare me the bullshit!" Briar groaned. "I've been in the hospital for almost two months now, and the only members of our so-called family who've bothered to call and ask how I'm doing are Audrey and the kids! If you were so fucking concerned with my 'welfare', why is this the first anyone's hearing about it?"

      "And you can hardly claim that you weren't contacted, since I happen to know for a fact that my boss made the call himself," Sanger interjected, inclining his head toward Beatrice Malveaux. "As I understand it, he spoke to you, ma'am, and your first response was to demand that he inform your granddaughter that she would have to be responsible for her own medical expenses, since she had, and I quote, 'brought it on herself'. I can call headquarters and ask him to forward a copy of the recording to my phone, if your memory is in need of refreshing."

      "How dare you people record my telephone conversations!?" she shrilled. "That is a complete invasion of my right to privacy, I should sue your entire department!"

      "You have every right to seek legal counsel, of course," Sanger agreed. "Although I'm sure that any attorney worth his fee would tell you that you'd be almost guaranteed to lose any suit that you filed, since the conversation can be considered as part of an ongoing investigation."