by Nicole Kurtz
As if sensing I was awake, a nurse, a man named Tim, came bustling into the room. His chubby, ruddy cheeks pushed out as he smiled. Tim had the shrunken look of a person who lost a lot of weight in a short time. Except in his face, he kept the jolly, fatness in his face.
He whispered, “You’re awake. Good. Good.”
I nodded, yawned and sat up for his usual pricks, pokes, and prods. He’d been my early morning nurse for the last two days.
“Thought you were off on Sundays,” I said, lifting my arm for the blood pressure test.
“I am, but they were giving out overtime. Can’t pass that up,” Tim said, his eyes glued to the monitor behind me. He slipped the pad around my arm, secured it and went back to watching the monitor. “Your blood pressure looks good, although I don’t see how with your profession.”
He removed the I.V. and placed a bandage over the spot where a tiny bubble of blood had appeared. Next, he took the blood pressure pad off of my arm and scribbled onto his tiny handheld. He kept his eyes between the monitors and the handheld, writing notes and readings.
“You’re all better. No more leakage from your wounds. Healed and sealed, as we say. Promise me you won’t get into any more gun battles.”
“I can’t promise you that.”
“Well, the medicine also cleared up those nasty scabs and cuts on your face,” Tim added distastefully. “You are much too pretty to be getting into so much trouble.” He wagged his finger at me. “The scars on your body read like a road map of violence.”
“You’re right about that one, partner,” said a smooth, southern voice from the doorway.
I shifted to see around Tim, and there stood Captain Hanson. His dimpled smile beamed across the room like a beacon slicing through fog.
Tim turned his handheld around to me and said, “Thumbprint, please, for checkout. We’ll bill you, later.”
I placed my thumb in the area and groaned. Stiff and sore, I crawled out of bed. Tim left with a quick glance back to Hanson and then me. As soon as the doors shut, Hanson came over to the bed. He leaned over the bed’s railing and nodded in my direction.
“I heard you’d be getting out today,” he said, in the muted light of the room his bright blue eyes seeming to loom like headlights in the rain. “I thought you’d like a ride home, with me.”
How would he know when I didn’t even know until Tim told me I was being released? Hanson must have been talking to the nursing staff, and as a regulator captain, why wouldn’t they tell him?
Jane stirred awake and said with a throaty voice, “You goin somewhere?”
She rubbed her neck and stood. With a short nod toward Hanson, she came over to the bed and bent down to touch her toes, stretching and twisting her back to dislodge the kinks.
When done, she stood up again and said, “They trust you to leave?”
Hanson laughed and said, “She’s safe enough, I guess. You’re the one who shot and killed someone. She only wounded one.” He turned to me, “Speaking of Schmuckler, he’s out all recuperated and such. Sent a couple of regulators to pick him up for attempted murder, but he’s gone. In the wind, as they say.”
Jane’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t say anything else.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, breaking the silence as I glanced at Hanson. “Give me about five minutes to get out of these hospital greens.”
“Sure.” He disappeared through the doors.
“You goin with him?” Jane asked, her voice suddenly hollow as soon as the doors hushed closed behind Hanson.
I knew what she was thinking. Jane’s been with me long enough to know when I’m attracted to someone. She wasn’t stupid. And it bothered her because of Hanson’s relationship with Amanda. Besides, getting involved with someone in a case, is a big no-no. Of course, Hanson was attractive and very, very naughty, which was apart of the allure. I wasn’t going to jeopardize the case for him. He could be a killer after all.
I pulled a murky gray sweatshirt over my head. Jane must’ve brought them to the hospital, because I didn’t own a gray sweatshirt.
“Whose is this?” realizing that it wasn’t mine because the arms were too long and the width too wide.
“Mine,” Jane said, a fresh unlit cigarette dangling from her lips. “Didn’t think you’d want to wear your sleeping bikini out of here.” She snorted and said, “You didn’t answer my question.”
Nodding, I slipped on my jeans, dotted with dried brownish blood spots, probably from blood splatter. I ran my fingers through my braids, strangely aware that I was stalling Jane. My naked feet and disheveled hair were excuses not to answer her right away.
“Yeah,” I said hoarsely. “I’m going to ride with him. See if I can’t get something out of him. I know your aunt told us not to, but, you know.”
“Yeah,” Jane grunted. “Make sure you get something out of him. Don’t let him get something into you. We’re at Roger’s Rental Rooms over on Bale and Lincoln.”
With nothing else, she stalked out of the hospital room.
Jane is always blunt, but to the point. Oh, yea of little faith. No way would I engage in the horizontal hello with a suspected killer. Jane had to know me better than that…right?
I’ve never endangered a case; well, not counting that case involving a lovely stripper named Jose several years back. I’ve learned my lesson since then.
Hanson walked in. “Jane probably filled you in on Montano,” he said, shoving his hands into his tight jeans pocket. The hunter green sweater gave his skin an air of warmth. Raindrops glistened like jewels in his hair. “I went out to Frazier’s yesterday, myself, and saw him. Montano is in the cradle, sleeping away.”
He drove all the way out to Frazier’s to check on Montano? For me? He could have sent any first year regulator to do it. Why?
“Thanks,” I mumbled. “Am I cleared on Schmuckler?” I wanted to move the conversation somewhere else. Away from me, back to the case. Schmuckler was middle ground, part personal and part business.
“Yes,” Hanson answered, his gaze burning into my skin. “We have a great deal to talk about, Cybil.”
“Like Amanda Christensen?” I asked, bringing my eyes to connect with his.
He quickly retreated his gaze, and downward to the floor. “Y-Yes, I guess that’s one thing.”
The doors opened unexpectedly, spooking Hanson. Jane came back in and went over to the chair, grabbed her backpack and stalked out without another word to me. Before the doors closed, she shot me a two-finger code that meant she would follow Hanson and me.
“I’m ready when you are, lady,” Hanson said, his voice sweeter than sweet potato pie. Sweat droplets dotted his forehead, making him skin look moist. Nervous? About what?
I quickly put on my socks and boots. Heavy silence pressed down on my shoulders as I bent to tie my laces. Was I walking into a trap with a killer? Did he mean to shot me the moment I sat down in his leather-seated wauto? Weaponless and partially defenseless, Jane wouldn’t be able to get to me in time.
With a fast twist, I knotted my hair into a ponytail.
“Ready,” I said breathlessly. Minus the suit Hanson still looked wonderful. Within the close confines of the room, I was more than aware of his scent, rustic and powerful.
He nodded and he waited until I had passed him and followed me out. We walked down to his parked, sleek wauto in the hospital parking lot in silence. The hallways were empty as if the rain had somehow stopped accidents, shootings, killings and beatings from happening. No one wanted to get wet.
“Nice,” I said, destroying the rain bubbles that stood erect on his wauto’s polished finish with my fingers. Brand new, it still had that new wauto look and smell to it.
“You’ve seen it before,” Hanson said cheerlessly and he slipped into the driver’s seat.
In minutes we were off and headed toward the downtown area. The bleak day traveled on, oblivious to the tension unfolding inside the vehicle. I fiddled with the console, remarking how much hi
s LCD screen and touch music panel acted in concert with the balancing of his HD system.
“You made me,” I said, my pride bruised and smarting. “No one’s caught me before.”
“First time for everything,” he said, this time with a smile, fleshing out his dimples. “Don’t be mad. I let you follow anyway.”
“Why?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Got nothing to hide from you, Cybil. By the way, where are you staying at now?”
“Rogers.”
“Nicer place than Henry’s,” he said, his eyes darting between the lane and me. “Annabelle footing the bill?”
“Sure,” I said. “Captain, why didn’t you tell me about Amanda?”
He sighed, his smile gone. Water splashed down on us. The sky leaked freely without pause. “Please call me Tom. I-I, well, how could I tell you? How could I tell anyone? She was a minor. And I would have been accused of her murder. I-I needed to be free so that I could find the murderer, not tied up with trying to build a defense.”
“If you’re innocent, you shouldn’t need to worry about building a defense.”
“You know as well as I do how crooked and unbalanced our justice scales are…His eyes flashed into a feisty fury. “You know I’m right. Besides, Annabelle forbad me to tell you. Especially with the election in November coming up…a scandal could’ve tipped the scale against her. That’s all she’s angling for right now—being governor of the entire Southeast Territories”
I knew that much. But I let him talk. He needed to talk. A few short days ago, he was ready to tell me what he was going to tell me now…
“…for that woman,” Hanson was saying and he shivered, “if the fur isn’t flying, you’re not doing anything. Except now she’s worried about the governor’s race.”
The splatter of raindrops drummed on the roof. The lanes, empty and deserted, allowed Hanson to sneak looks at me without totally taking his eyes off the lanes.
His grin vanished in the shadows of his face. “You might not believe me, but I did love Mandy. My whole world was wrapped into her little finger.”
The urge to hold him was overwhelming, the immense sadness was similar to the feeling I got from Nathan. Is it possible they both loved her? Truly? Instead I folded my hands in my lap.
Ha! True love is a farce.
Cynical? Who me? All the time. Love caused so much damage, how could it ever be true?
“You would have loved her too,” he continued, his voice saturated with pain and sorrow. “Beautiful, funny, and smart. Very much like you.”
Yikes! I blushed.
“Tell me why Nathan’s working for you? Where does he fit in? He’s on record for being Amanda’s boyfriend,” I said, swallowing hard. I cleared my throat and waited.
Hanson hesitated and then gravely said, “He was her boy friend. They’d been pals for a while, but no sparks. I think, well, I’m quite sure that Nathan was in love with her. Of course, Amanda was with me, so she spread the rumor that he was her boyfriend, romantically, to keep people from suspecting us. Sadly, this was where things got sticky.”
“How sticky?” I prodded, trying to keep my voice from growing louder. I wanted Hanson to reveal the missing pieces to my puzzle and hopefully help me solve this case.
Hanson sighed. “Nathan started blackmailing me.
“Blackmail?” My brain sagged under the new load of information. Even still I stood ready for more. “You’re a regulator captain! You could’ve had him arrested.”
“Yes, I could…if I wanted a scandal and a one way flight out to Montgomery’s,” Hanson said, his eyes now firmly planted on the clear lanes in front of him. His knuckles turned white where he gripped the steering wheel. “He had pictures of us together. Threatened to send them to every online tabloid and community sites across the quadrant. God only knows how he got those. Sent me a few to prove he had them. He was bleeding me dry...every month…”
Sweating profusely now, Hanson’s lips pressed together into a tense, thin line. The wauto dropped downward as we approached Roger’s.
“So, I wanted him to stop,” Hanson continued. “He agreed, in exchange for a job, a regulator job. I don’t know why, but if he would stop, leave us alone, I thought,” he said, his voice growing quieter. “It was stupid to hire him, but I-I couldn’t lose Mandy.”
I shrugged. “You lost her anyway. Don’t beat yourself up though. People do all kinds of things for love.”
“Sounds like you know a lot about that,” he said with a sly glance in my direction. “Well, to end this tale, I hired him. Amazingly, he kept his word and left me and Mandy alone.”
“He hasn’t asked for anything since becoming a reg?”
“No. He does a good job,” Hanson said, his voice high and shaky. “I-I can’t fire him.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Hanson briskly wiped his face with his right hand. “Both. I guess. I’ve gotten reports from others about Nathan and Derrick supposedly stealing from the evidence warehouse, but when I make an inquiry into it, it nets a big fat goose egg. They’ve got help from others, but I can’t catch any of them.”
“Are they wiping it out of the computers somehow?”
Hanson shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe, but our computers personnel can’t find the trail if there was one to find in the first place.”
We rode in silence for another ten minutes when Roger’s appeared on the horizon. Hanson sat down the wauto directly in front of the lobby doors. He turned to me, his face glazed with tears.
“She was so lovely. And I miss her terribly. But I did not kill her, Cybil.”
“Who did?” I asked, feeling a sore knot in my back burn. Why was Hanson still trying to defend himself? “She was only a teenager. No enemies.”
He shook his head, his hair flawlessly staying put. “I’ve been asking that same question since the day I got the call she’d been found.”
Roger’s Rental Rooms took up nearly all of a city block. The massive brick building resembled a converted school and several of the windows were still glass with cranks. Captain Hanson turned off his wauto and rotated in his seat so that he could look directly at me. For a few moments, he simply stared. My eyes and his connected and finally he blinked first.
“Cybil, I-I’m sorry I shouted at you the other day,” he said, his southern twang emerging in his speech, somehow making his apology seem more heartfelt, sincere. “I was so offended by the fact that you thought I was capable of killing Mandy and sleeping with her mother that I …lost it.”
“Tom, you did carry on a relationship with a minor,” I said gently. “I mean, that’s serious enough. You were hiding something. I was wrong about what you were hiding.”
He nodded. “I didn’t want you to believe that I was capable of murder. I didn’t want you to think less of me. I-I…wanted you to like me.”
“Why do you care what I think?” I said, my stomach tingling as if a bucket of ice had been shoved into it.
“I want you to like me, because I like you. It matters to me what you think,” he said. Then he cleared his throat as if nervous. He wiped his hands on his pants. “You’re so beautiful and feisty…Being near you, makes me sweat. Hot.”
“Tom,” I hesitated and then stopped. Hot?
“I know you’re trying to find out who killed Mandy,” he said, his hand reaching out and caressing mine. “We can talk about this later. When the air is clear and when I’m surer of this. I mean-if you want.”
I shrugged and gave him a “we’ll see.”
With my heart pounding in my ears, I fled into Roger’s lobby. To my surprise, no robots awaited at the front desk. Two uniformed women, one named Deborah, the other Melissa, smiled pleasantly as I approached the desk. I didn’t know what names Jane had reserved the rooms under, but I was saved from embarrassment when Jane walked into the lobby and came up to me.
“We’re in room one-ten,” she said, slipping me my own room keycard. “What did he say?”
“He admitt
ed to having a relationship with her,” I said. “Claims to have loved her. I asked him about Nathan. Said Nathan was blackmailing him and eventually the final payoff was the regulator job.”
We reached the room and Jane entered her keycard. The doors opened up to a wide room with a kitchenette, a tiny table with two bar stools and a second room with two double beds. The bathroom was directly across from the kitchenette. It smelled clean and that’s truly all I cared about at the moment.
Piled high on the table in front of the bar stools were CDs.
“What’s that?” I asked as I pointed at the CDs. I opened the miniature refrigerator and smiled. Jane had included the necessities. Peck beer, jalapeno jelly and coffee. I snagged a beer.
“Nathan’s bank statements for the last four years,” she said as she grabbed my beer out my hand. “I should’ve gotten them earlier, but my contact in D.C. was on vacation. And then I was going to go through them today, but the nurses told me you were being released today, so I went back to the hospital.”
“Hanson said that Nathan was bleeding him dry before he hired him on to be a regulator,” I said as I climbed awkwardly up on a stool; my right arm was stiff and tight. “If he was, then there should be proof of that in these.”
Jane took the second stool. She removed her laptop, waited for it to boot up and inserted a CD. “This one is from January of last year.”
“Start there. He’s only been a regulator for a little over six months.”
The doorbell blared and I jumped, feeling my muscles tense. My gun hand was rigid and that wasn’t good. I couldn’t even curl my hand, only wiggle my fingers. Yeah, this I wasn’t good at all.
“You expecting someone?” I asked, as I got up from the stool. “Where are my guns?”
“Pug’s in the top drawer in the nightstand,” Jane said, removing her knife from its holder, underneath her shirt. “The 350 is with the Memphis Regs.”
“Shit.”