High Deceit

by C. E. Waterman

  Marketing and distribution had to be better, right? Maybe they’d use some of his ideas for the website. Mom’s sauce was fantastic, so it should be easy to sell. It must be selling well because Jimmy always had plenty while Tony barely made lunch money busing tables. Now that Jimmy was going away to college, Tony’d get to do some of the fun stuff.

  He ran to the door and yanked it open, slowing to a walk in case Mom was around. He didn’t see her in the crowded restaurant as he half-jogged through the dining room, taking the stairs two at a time. Tonight, they’d see he could be valuable, too. He could carry out an assignment as well as Jimmy. Though it was just a joke, it felt like a test.

  The small conference room was full already. One chair remained open at the long table.

  “How’d it go, Tony?” Dad smiled. “Did you get in and out all right?”

  “Yeah, Dad. No problem. I left it right where you said.”

  “Anybody see you?” Uncle Sal smirked. He didn’t think Tony could handle anything. He was just waiting for him to mess up. Tony could almost hear him now. “I told ya he couldn’t handle it, Dom. You shoulda given it to Jimmy.” But not this time.

  Tony hid his grin. “No, Uncle Sal, you can ask Carlo. Nobody saw me. I’m sure.”

  Carlo nodded, verifying all had gone well.

  “I think we’d have heard by now if he’d been seen, Sal,” Dad said. “Carlo here says you did a good job, son. I’m proud of you.”

  Tony basked in his father’s praise, and Carlo smiled at him. The shark look was missing, his expression almost friendly. Almost. But now that he thought about it, where had Carlo learned to pick a lock like that?

  5

  Robin tossed and turned on the small hospital cot in Mark’s ICU room, dreaming of some unseen presence chasing her, reaching out, fingers curling as if stretching around her neck. She ran screaming for Mark but couldn’t find him. She kept searching for him…calling to him…her own voice woke her.

  Her watch said four o’clock. No wonder she was still tired. Mark had made restless movements all night, but each time she checked he wasn’t awake. After the fourth time, she quit checking and tried not to hope but still didn’t get much sleep.

  Dozing off again was impossible. Her mind wouldn’t shut down. Lying on her back counting the dots in the ceiling tile wasn’t doing any good either. She crawled stiffly out of the cot. Her muscles ached from the accident, and nausea gripped her stomach. She splashed water on her face and glanced in the mirror. Red puffy eyes stared back. She blinked. They felt gritty.

  Zipping her coat, she stepped outside. The snow had stopped last night, leaving the morning clear and cold. Yesterday’s few inches lay crisp on the ground. The fifty degrees predicted by afternoon would melt it all before the day was over.

  She drove herself home. Since it was early, she tiptoed into the house. Stealth wasn’t necessary it turned out, since her in-laws clattered around in the kitchen. They were both shuffling and likely sore. Breakfast smelled so good she couldn’t help it, her stomach growled…loudly.

  Silvia laughed as she dished up a plate of eggs. “Well, I guess the have-you-eaten question I was going to ask has been answered.” She reached for the bacon.

  “Oh, thanks, Silvia. Eggs and toast will be fine. My stomach is a little off this morning.”

  Silvia’s eyes softened. “I’ll fix you some more tea then. It might settle better than orange juice. How’d it go last night?”

  Ed looked up, not trying to hide the hope in his eyes.

  Robin wished she had something positive to tell them, because it looked as if they hadn’t gotten any more sleep than she had. “He was restless, but he didn’t wake up.”

  They nodded, disappointment clouding their faces. Silvia set her a place, and the three of them ate and watched the birds beyond the bay window. The sun pushed golden rays past the aspens, and the birds flitted to and from her feeder.

  While Robin helped Silvia clean up, Ed turned back to his tablet. He must have been reading it before she came home and interrupted.

  She frowned. “Are you reading the news? Did you see anything about Mark?”

  “It says a murder happened at an empty warehouse and a policeman was injured. They aren’t giving names.”

  “Does it say how it happened? With everything that went on yesterday, I didn’t get a chance to ask the chief.”

  “Peter said they found Mark after an anonymous caller reported shots fired. I thought the local news might have information about a robbery or a chase or something to explain it, but no, nothing.”

  “Let me get changed, and we can take my car back to the hospital. Then you can use it until yours gets fixed. I doubt they’ll ever find the guy who hit us.”

  “I suppose he got scared and ran,” Silvia said. “It happened so fast I didn’t even see him. Ed said it was a green sedan. Right, Ed?”

  He nodded. “The chances of the police catching him, or of his having insurance, are slim at best. I’d better call my agent.”

  Robin agreed. “Maybe Peter will be able to tell us what they know about the shooting. I’m sure he’ll check in at some point today.” Running up the stairs proved a mistake as the muscles in her back contracted. She bent to wash her face and brush her teeth. Then she eased on some jeans and winced when she dragged her favorite sweatshirt over her head.

  She grabbed her Bible and another book to read and glanced around for anything else she might need. Mark’s presence was everywhere. His picture of the skyline, which she hated, hung over their bed, and his books covered his nightstand and the floor next to it. Neither the picture nor the recliner he insisted she keep in the living room went with her design, but he’d been adamant about having some of his things in the house.

  The closet light was on. She didn’t remember turning it on this morning, which meant it was already on. Mark wasn’t too happy with her when she forgot—it was a pet peeve of his. She flipped it off on her way out.

  Back at the hospital, she followed Silvia into the cubicle. Peter sat next to the bed. His eyelids drooped, and he still wore yesterday’s clothes. Mark appeared the same as when she’d left. “Have you been here all night?” she asked. “I didn’t see you when I left this morning.”

  He rubbed his hands over his face. “I must have been in the bathroom or something.”

  She smiled at him. A strong wind would blow him over. “You don’t have to stay. You’re exhausted. I’ll be sure to call you if there’s the slightest change.”

  He glanced down at his feet then huffed and met her gaze. “Actually, Robin, I’ll be leaving in a few minutes when my relief gets here.”

  “Your relief? What do you mean?” Her mouth went dry. “Are you guarding Mark? What from? Is he in danger?”

  Peter reached to take her elbow. “I think we should talk in the waiting area.”

  Ed and Silvia followed them out.

  Ed barely waited until they cleared the door before speaking. “Wait, Peter. Tell us what’s going on. We still don’t know what happened.”

  Peter stepped to the right of the door and stopped. “The truth is we don’t know either. Someone on a cell phone reported shots fired at the warehouse. When the responding officers arrived, they found Mark lying near the entrance and Cindy Carroll dead upstairs, shot in the chest. They radioed for an ambulance, called us, and we called you. The problem is, we don’t know what he was doing. Did he say anything to you about going there?”

  “No. Didn’t he call it in?” Robin frowned.

  “No, and that’s part of the problem.” He leaned against the wall, his shoulders sagging and fatigue in every line of his face. “We don’t know what he saw. He could still be a threat to someone, so we’re taking precautions. The hospital will move him to a private room soon, and it should be easier to protect him there.”

  Robin glanced around, feeling uneasy. Was someone lurking in the shadows waiting until they were gone so they could finish the job on her husband? She rushed through h
is cubicle, glad to see him lying there safe.

  She stood over Mark and eyed his sleeping face. The bruising spread under the bandage and leaked to one eyebrow. She reached out to touch it but stopped herself. Could he feel pain? She caressed the sweet dimple in his chin instead. How could anyone want to hurt him?

  Cindy Carroll was dead? Mark had been worried about her. He said she wouldn’t listen, and he must have been right. But what were they doing in a warehouse together? Could she have lured him there?

  If Mark was in the wrong place at the wrong time, it wouldn’t be personal. But to think someone might want him dead was too much. She started to shake.

  Peter put a gentle hand on her arm. “We’re not going to let anyone near him, Robin. Last night while you were sleeping, I was right down the hall where I could see his cubicle. We won’t leave him unprotected. And we’ll get the people responsible. I won’t stop until we do.”

  The determination in his voice calmed her. He was Mark’s best friend after all, and if he said he wouldn’t stop until they were caught, she believed him. The shaking eased, but she felt sick again. She jumped out of her chair and ran for the bathroom. When she returned, the mood had changed to a forced cheerfulness.

  “What else?” she asked Peter. “What haven’t you told me?”

  “I-I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Now I know there’s something else. You never stutter. What’s going on?”

  “I didn’t know whether to tell you or not, but I guess it’s better you hear it from me. Mark had quite a bit of money on him in one hundred dollar bills. Were you guys planning a trip or something?”

  “No.” So that’s what David had been talking about. “How much money?”

  “I don’t know the exact amount, but some of the guys said it was over two thousand.”

  “Two thousand? Dollars? In his pocket?” She tried to picture him that morning. Did he have it when he left the house? The picture her brain called up was of him in his hospital bed with tubes everywhere. “That’s ridiculous. He’d never carry so much money around. He didn’t even like to do it on vacations. He was afraid someone would steal it. We take some money but mostly use our debit or credit card.”

  “Internal Affairs thought so, too.” Peter appeared to choose his words. “They believe it was a payoff.”

  “What? They’re out of their minds!” When the nurse on duty looked over and frowned, Robin lowered her voice. “Mark would never accept a bribe, especially if it had to do with drugs. You know he wouldn’t.”

  Peter nodded the whole time. “Yes, I know. And everyone who knows Mark knows it too. But IA doesn’t, and there are only eight of us in the unit. Right now, they’re treating him as suspect number one until they find out more.”

  “Great. Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

  “That seems to work best for criminals,” Peter said. “But the good thing is when you’re innocent it’s not that easy to prove you’re guilty.” He turned his head.

  A young woman rolled a tall cart into the ICU. She delivered trays emitting tantalizing aromas to several patients. When she moved past Mark’s area, he took a deep breath. “We’ve been frustrated at not catching them in the act. We were beginning to look inside the department when this happened. Internal Affairs is going to look hard for evidence Mark is in it with them.”

  “Let them look. They won’t find anything,” Silvia chimed in.

  “No, they won’t, because there’s nothing to find,” he assured her. “And as soon as Mark wakes up, he’ll be able to tell us what happened.”

  They sat in silence until an intern showed up to move Mark to a room. They needed the interruption.

  Mark’s parents didn’t say what they were thinking, although she could imagine. Silvia’s face was red, and she sat clenching and unclenching her fists.

  “If they’re moving him, the doctor must feel he’s stable enough. That’s good news,” Ed spoke in soothing tones.

  Robin nodded. Finally, good news in a not-so-good morning.

  A uniformed officer showed up to replace Peter, and they stood in the waiting room until Mark was settled. His new room was on the fourth floor, and he was the only occupant.

  Robin sat in a chair next to his bed and glanced around. The room wasn’t large, but it felt spacious after the tiny cubicle they’d crowded into downstairs. A small pitcher of water rested on the nightstand, and a rolling tray table stood against the wall. So, was the private room for his protection or his imprisonment?

  Ed and Silvia mumbled something about calling the insurance company and left.

  How could anyone think Mark capable of something like this? What if he didn’t wake up before they pinned it on him? What if he didn’t wake up at all, and they closed the case, assuming he was guilty? The real traitor would go free.

  Wait a minute. What was she thinking? If Mark didn’t wake up, she had a lot more to worry about than his reputation. She’d have to face it all alone. Although what could be worse than having Mark know the community he loved thought he was a drug dealer? She couldn’t bear it. She’d move. Live somewhere else where decent people weren’t blamed for things they didn’t do.

  Robin straightened. How could she even think Mark wouldn’t wake up? Because it had been in the back of her mind since Chief Donovan called. She sure talked a good game, but when she needed it, where was her trust? She needed to adjust her faith.

  Libby popped her head in the door.

  “I’m so glad you’re here.” Robin stood. “I need to talk, and I don’t want to talk to Ed and Silvia about this.”

  Libby gave her a hug. “Let’s take a walk.”

  They walked by rooms with TVs on and visitors coming and going, past the nurses’ station, and to the elevator. When it closed them in alone, Robin spoke. “Did Peter tell you?”

  “About the money? Yes.”

  “What does he think?”

  The elevator opened, and they exited on the ground floor.

  Libby led the way to the cafeteria. “He thinks it was a plant.”

  Relief flooded Robin. “Really? He told you so?”

  “Of course. Robin, what else would he think? I do, too. There’s no way Mark’s guilty of taking a bribe. Or anything else IA drums up. We just have to prove it, is all.”

  “That’s all?” Robin wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

  Libby solved it by laughing. “Yeah, well, Mark will have to wake up soon and give us some help.”

  They bought coffee and went to the waiting room. They had barely sat when Tammi, a detective from Mark’s unit, entered.

  Robin would probably see them all at some point today. Maybe she could question each of them to get a better idea of what was going on.

  Libby stepped up to Tammi and held out her hand. “It’s good to see you again. How have you been doing?”

  “I’m fine, but the important question is, how is Mark?”

  Robin updated her on his condition.

  Almost before she finished, Tammi scooted forward in her chair. “Robin, how are you? This waiting has to be horrible.” Without waiting for an answer, she waved her hand. “I once knew this person who was married to someone who was in an accident. And they were unconscious. You know? Like Mark? His wife had a tough time. The not knowing every day whether he would wake up drove her insane.”

  Libby raised an eyebrow but didn’t voice her thoughts.

  Robin stifled a frown. Was Tammi trying to reassure her or warn her of what she could expect? Neither idea gave much comfort.

  “So I can see this must be horrible.” Tammi took a breath. “Especially since nobody knows what happened.” She got up and paced, still talking. “I couldn’t believe it! I must have been on my way to work, although did they say when he was shot?” She plopped into a chair. The force squeaked the metal legs a few inches across the linoleum.

  Startled for a moment, Robin realized she expected an answer. “Uh, no. I told them it was after
6:00 AM when he left home.”

  Tammi remained seated, but she bounced her legs. “Six, huh? I wonder what he was doing. He wasn’t at the morning meeting, but neither was Peter. He had a dentist appointment or something. I think everyone else was there.” She chewed a nail. “The call didn’t come in until around eight. What could Mark have been doing all that time?”

  Robin’s face heated, and her jaw hardened. “Bleeding.”

  Tammi’s leg stopped shaking, and she winced. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  “No.” Robin’s muscles loosened. “I’m the one who’s sorry.” She touched Tammi’s arm. What was she thinking? “Of course you didn’t. I’m too sensitive these days.”

  Tammi put her hand over Robin’s and squeezed. “It’s OK. I don’t blame you.” She stood again as if she couldn’t endure being still. “I would be a wreck!” She launched into another story.

  Robin paid little attention.

  Tammi was either trying to cast suspicion on Peter by saying he wasn’t at the meeting or attempting to make conversation.

  Libby’s lips pressed together the way they did when she was losing patience. If people suspected Mark, it wouldn’t take them long to point at Peter, too.

  Time to change the subject. When Tammi slowed a bit, Robin interrupted, “So, Tammi, tell me. How are you and Tisha getting along?”

  “Oh, we’re doing fine. Tish is a good girl, and you know, she doesn’t even miss her dad.” Tammi plopped down again, her jittery muscles stilling. “Which doesn’t surprise me, since he wasn’t around much. I think it surprised him though. He seemed hurt that she didn’t cry when he said he wasn’t going to live with us. She looked at him and said, ‘Daddy, are you going to live at work?’ He later told me she didn’t understand. I said he was right.” She huffed. “After all, work was the last place he’d want to be.”

  “He wasn’t a workaholic?” Libby interjected.

  “Hardly. You’d think since he worked when he felt like it—and that wasn’t often—he’d have spent more time with her, wouldn’t you? But he always had something better to do.” She faced Robin. “When you don’t spend any time with your daughter, how can you expect her to miss you?”