A Painful Reminder

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Written by Tiffany Ball


Moya sat at her cousin's desk, sorting through her purse when she saw Detective Meldrick Lewis walk in. He watched her pull an envelope of photographs out. She pulled out one picture and handed it to him.

"That's my godfather, Peter Williams," she said, beaming with love.

"He was a friend of my dad's and we have kept in touch through the years."

"Has Mikey met him?" Meldrick queried.

"Yeah, they met once, right before I came here," she said. "It was during the arson investigation. I think Mike needed some friendly advice and Pete's always one to give it."

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That night, Moya sat in the living room of Mike's boat when the phone rang. She snatched it up, knowing Mike wouldn't; he was too enthralled with Loony Tunes to care.

"Hello?" she said into the phone.

"Moya, that you?" a male voice with a distinct British accent asked.

"Davy Mitchell," she said, surprised. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this call from you?" she laughed.

"Moya, your Uncle Peter killed himself," he told her solemnly.

"What? WHAT?" Her voice rose to a shriek. Mike looked up in alarm.

Moya really didn't remember what happened next. She was crying too hard to care. She vaguely remembered Mike taking the phone and talking to Davy, then he ended the call.

Mike took his younger cousin in his arms and held her while she sobbed, letting his own silent tears fall unheeded.

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The next morning, Mike walked into Homicide and sought out Gee.

"Moya's not gonna be in today," he said. "There's been a death in the family."

Gee sensed this was bad. Kellerman looked like he was going to be sick with grief himself.

"Anything I can do?" he asked.

"Pray."

Mike then sought out his partner. If anyone could help her out with this, Lewis could.

"Lewis," he said. "We need to talk."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meldrick walked to Mike's boat. Sitting in the living room, combing her wet, tangled hair, was Moya. Her eyes were red from crying. He walked inside. She looked up at him. "Mike told you," she said brokenly.

"Yeah," he said and opened his arms. She moved into them and he held her close while she cried fresh tears. When she calmed down, she began to talk about Peter. Meldrick just sat there the rest of the day and listened to her reminisce. He knew it was as hard for her as it was for him when he lost Crosetti like that. But he could do what Stan Bolander did for him: give her comfort.

The End