Darkness Girl: Trickster God

Chapter Forty-Three: The Currency of Power

'Messy person.' 

Eikenout bent over and used a tissue to wipe away the dribble of food running down her daughter's chin. Her daughter giggled and banged her plastic spoon against the tray of her high chair. 

'Ignoring the problem isn't going to make it go away,' said her husband. 

Eikenout sighed and straightened. She deliberately ignored him as she walked around the kitchen counter and threw the soiled tissue into a bin under the sink. Her husband leant back against the cupboards beside her with his arms folded. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up and his tie loosened. His arms were crossed across his belly. Eikenout teased him about it sometimes by rubbing it for luck. 

She turned to face him. 'What do you want me to do? Quit?' 

Her husband looked over her shoulder at kitchen window. There was nothing to see outside. Darkness pressed in against the glass. 

'Don't be so dramatic.' 

'Excuse me?' Eikenout's tone was deadly. 

Her husband rubbed his face and looked at her. 'There are plenty of jobs in the department. Why do you have to do this one?' 

'If not me then who?' 

'I don't care!' 

'So you want to force some other investigator into the gangs taskforce, just so you can sleep at night?' 

'I'm not married to some other investigator!' 

Eikenout scowled at him. She picked up a hair tie from the kitchen bench and used it to secure her unruly blonde curls into a pony tail. She walked past her husband and crouched down to search under the dining table for her runners. Her daughter craned her neck to watch her curiously. 

'I'm late for a gym class,' Eikenout said. 

'We need to stay and talk about this.' 

Eikenout pulled the shoes out from under a chair and stood up abruptly. 

'What is there to talk about?' 

'We got this in the mail! Your work isn't just about you anymore.' 

Eikenout's husband held up the piece of paper in his hand. On the page was a red circle with three vertical slashes running through it. 

'I'm not going to run. It's not in my nature.' 

'You're not some twenty-something with nothing to lose any more! You have a family!' 

'I have other responsibilities too. I didn't realise they were going to be subsumed by some amorphous blob of family.' 

Her husband's face was going red. She could tell he was holding back a tidal wave of anger. He rubbed his face again, and Eikenout could hear him quietly counting to ten. 

'Oh dear,' said a female voice. 'I hope I haven't inadvertently sewn the seeds of domestic discord.' 

Eikenout spun around as a dark haired woman walked around the door into the kitchen. Eikenout recognised her from the pin board in her office. She was wearing a charcoal business suit with a pencil skirt that outline her slender figure. It looked like a stiff breeze would knock her down. 

'Who are you?' said Eikenout's husband.  

'I know her from my work,' said Eikenout. 

'How did she get into our house?' 

Eikenout rested a hand on her husband's cheek. 'I'll explain later. I promise.' 

In their years of marriage, Eikenout's husband had learned to read her body language. He looked at the expression she was giving him now and nodded silently.