by Marja McGraw
“Okay.” I patted the hand that now rested on my arm. “I’m awake. That’s the best sleep I’ve had since this whole thing started.”
I stood up and stretched before going home to take a quick shower and change clothes. As soon as I was out of the shower my mother took her turn. It felt good to be clean and fresh. I hadn’t realized how dirty I’d felt for the last few days. Shower or no shower, with David on the loose I hadn’t felt right.
The cleaning crew came and took care of everything. I couldn’t even see the blood stains on the floor, but oddly, I could almost feel their presence. I’d really have to give some serious thought to moving. When Pete came home we’d talk about it. I knew he’d understand.
~ * ~
That evening my mother and I sat down to eat and the telephone rang. Hoping it was Pete, I almost jumped up to answer it. My knee slowed me down so my mother waved me back to my chair and answered for me.
“Frank? Is that really you?” The relief in her voice was so pronounced it was almost comical. “I’ve got a lot to tell – ”
She paused and listened.
“Yes, dear. What’s wrong?”
I didn’t think my heart had anymore pounding left in it, but it began to thump rapidly. Frank was calling, not Pete, and something was wrong. I stood and walked to my mother’s side.
She listened intently, watching me. When she turned away, I knew something really was wrong.
“Uh huh,” she said. “And what did the doctor say?”
She didn’t sound hysterical, so that was encouraging.
“I see. When will you and Pete be coming home?” She paused and listened. “Okay. I’ll tell Sandi. We’ll make plans and see you soon.” She paused again. “I love you, Frank. Take care of Pete. I’ll call you later this evening.” She hung up.
“Mother, what’s going on? What did you mean when you asked Frank to take care of Pete?”
“Um, Sandi, now don’t get excited, but there’s been a little accident. Frank is fine, but Pete was injured.”
My face must have given me away.
“Nothing life-threatening,” she said quickly. “Frank and Pete were coming down the mountain in the ATV, and it flipped over when they swerved to avoid a deer.”
I sighed, as only I can do. “Mother, get to the point. What happened to Pete?”
“Weeelll, he broke his leg – ”
“He broke his leg?” I interrupted.
“Um, yes, and there’s more.”
“More? Broken arm? Concussion? What? How bad is he?”
“He broke his leg, but he also broke his ankle on the other leg. It’s a pretty bad break. Frank says he’ll need screws and a plate. He’s in surgery right now. Frank says he won’t be able to walk down the aisle at your wedding because he’ll be in a wheelchair for a while. They had to fly him off the mountain in a helicopter.”
“He can’t walk down the aisle? I don’t care about that. Where is he? We need to drive to the hospital.”
“Frank said not to come. He said he’ll drive Pete home after they release him.”
“Is there more?”
“No. Isn’t that enough?”
“Yes. I wanted to be sure you weren’t holding anything back.”
“No, honey, that’s it. Well, they both have a few minor cuts and bruises, but overall it sounds like things could have been a lot worse.”
That was the moment when everything finally caught up to me and I began to sob, almost uncontrollably.
My mother put her arms around me and held me like a child. We cried together.
“I thought you said you were out of tears.”
“I thought I was. You’ve held it all in so well, so let it go now. Pete will be here before you know it.”
I cried harder. So did she. We finally slowed down to sniffles.
“He’ll have to stay with you, you know. He can’t stay at his place. Now let’s see. We’ll fix up your office for him and he can sleep in there. Oh, and I’ll call someone about setting up some kind of temporary ramp for his wheelchair.”
She continued to talk and plan, but I dried my eyes and let my mind wander. I tried to look to the future. We’d have to make some big decisions. I didn’t know if I could keep the business going with the economy in such bad shape, but there was always hope that things would turn around.
Chapter Thirty-four
Felicity and Stanley came over the next day. I explained what happened to Pete and, of course, my friends said they’d do anything they could to help out.
While we talked, a handyman my mother had called showed up and began work on a ramp leading up the front porch. I wasn’t sure what we’d do about the front door being too narrow for the wheelchair to get through.
My mother had called Frank back the night before and told him everything we’d been through. He was pretty upset, to put it mildly. He told my mother they’d be staying with Pete and me because I wasn’t physically capable of helping Pete do everything he’d need to do.
I didn’t argue the point. No, I was actually quite thankful.
I was finally able to talk to Pete that afternoon.
His voice sounded groggy, but Frank said they had him on pain medications.
“Sandi, are you okay? Frank told me what happened.”
“Oh, Pete. I wish he’d waited. You need to rest and come home. I didn’t want to upset you.”
“It’s okay. He said Stan shot and killed Smith? Is that right?”
“Yes. He stepped up and took care of things. He’s pretty upset though. I think it’s going to take him a long time to get over what happened.”
“Good ol’ Stan. He’s such a good guy.” Pete sounded almost whimsical.
“Did they just give you some medication? You sound pretty happy for someone who broke a leg, an ankle and almost lost the love of his life.”
“Yeah, you are that, babe. You’re the love of my life. An’ we’re gonna get married just as soon as I come home. Okay?”
I laughed. “Okay. We’ll do that.” I didn’t want to tell him we’d probably have to postpone the wedding until he healed.
“Okey dokey, dumplin’. I’m gonna hang up now, ‘cause I don’t think I can hang onto the phone much longer.”
The phone clunked when he dropped it, but I heard someone picking it up so I waited.
“Sandi? It’s Frank. Pete is fine, just doped up. He told the nurse he didn’t want the last pill, but she gave it to him anyway. They’re releasing him tomorrow, so I’ll be driving him home.”
“Are you sure he’s up to the trip?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll just load him in the truck and we’ll be on our way.” We talked for a moment longer and hung up.
I returned to the living room where Felicity and Stanley were glaring at each other.
“What’s going on?”
My mother laughed. “Felicity wants to hear the rest of the story about how you met Stanley. He doesn’t want you to tell it.”
I turned to Stanley. “It’s okay, Stan. After what you did last night, nothing can hurt your reputation.”
He thought about it for a moment before shrugging. “Okay, but I’m going out on the porch while you tell her.”
We waited patiently while he coaxed Bubba into going outside with him.
Before I could start the story I heard voices outside and there was a knock at the front door. I opened it to find Dolly standing on the porch with Miss Kitty in her arms.
“Come on in. You’re just in time to hear the rest of the Stanley story.”
“I hear I missed all the action,” she replied. “Doesn’t it just figure? I finally told Chrissy what was going on. After pitching a fit, she agreed to drive me home. I couldn’t stand not knowing what was happening. Chrissy will get over it, but for now she doesn’t want to talk to you.
“Oh, and Tammy got a miniature toy poodle. I can’t wait to see how Bubba and Bubba, Jr. get along.”
“I understand how Chrissy feels. A miniature toy p
oodle? I have a feeling the poodle will rule the roost. Did anyone tell you David was hiding in your house?” I asked.
“Yes, but he’s gone now so I don’t care. I’ll clean the room he was in with disinfectant.” Dolly can be such a trooper. “So let’s hear the rest of Stanley’s story. By the way, that young man’s eye is twitching something fierce.”
Apparently my friend wasn’t holding up as well as I thought he was.
I began telling the ending of Stanley’s journey and the part he was embarrassed about. He shouldn’t have been embarrassed.
“We found out that the whole thing about Stanley was a matter of mistaken identity. Another man owed a loan shark a lot of money, and he happened to bear the same name as our Stanley. Pete and I confronted the loan shark, but I won’t go into that part. Anyway, this guy said he’d call off his goon so Pete and I decided to drive to Stanley’s office and give him the good news. Al Draper was a thing of the past.”
~ * ~
“We’d better go” Pete said. “It’s just about time for Hawks to leave for lunch.”
The drive to the greeting card company where Hawks worked was relatively quiet. Pete and I had had words about David Smith that morning and we weren’t too thrilled with each other. We parked the car across the street from the Mays Building, and as we started across the street Hawks walked out the door. He saw us and waved. As he reached the bottom of the steps we saw Draper come out of nowhere. He grabbed Hawks, pushing him toward a car parked in the adjoining alley.
“Hey!” Pete yelled. He took off, running toward the alley.
Draper looked over his shoulder, shoved Hawks into the car on the driver’s side and jumped in behind him, shoving him to the passenger side.
Pete almost made it. In fact, he was close enough to slam his hand on the trunk lid just as Draper took off. Pete turned and ran back to the car.
I’d climbed into the driver’s seat, planning to drive over and pick him up, only to realize he had the car keys. I slid over and waited for Pete. He reached the car and started the engine while I fastened my seatbelt.
With tires screeching, he turned left into the alley in pursuit of Draper. When he reached the other end of the alley, he quickly glanced right, then left. Looking right again, we could see the tail end of Draper’s car just going around the corner. The tires squealed when Pete pulled out.
A garbage truck drove away from the curb and I covered my eyes. Pete flew around him – it felt like we were on two wheels. I opened my eyes. A bus was coming straight at us. We squeezed by with about an inch to spare. Pete turned the corner, back wheels fishtailing. He picked up speed, and so did my heart.
I could see Draper’s car about a block ahead of us. Pete swung to the left to avoid a car that was parallel parking.
“Do you believe this? Look at him. He looks like he’s out for a Sunday drive. I don’t think he realizes we’re behind him. How could he think we wouldn’t chase him?” I couldn’t believe what an idiot this guy was.
Pete slowed down, keeping Draper in sight. “I don’t know, but let’s just hang back and let him think he’s safe.”
“Yeah, let’s do that.” Hanging back seemed safe and sane after the chances Pete had taken so far.
“We’ll leave a couple of cars between us and them. We’re going to have to wait it out until we can get to him. Becker must not have been able to reach Draper.” Although Pete sounded calm, I had a feeling he wanted to hurry things along.
I didn’t take my eyes off the brown Chevy again, afraid of losing him.
“Pete, he’s turning right at the next corner.”
Fortunately, one of the two cars between us was also turning right.
“I see him,” Pete replied.
Draper seemed to be heading toward the outskirts of town. I tried to imagine where he might be taking Hawks and decided it was too awful to contemplate.
“He’s probably taking him to some isolated area to try to make his point,” Pete said, as though I’d spoken aloud. “We’re going to have a problem if we run out of traffic to hide us. No telling what he’ll do to Stanley.”
The car between us suddenly turned right without signaling, leaving us in plain view. I knew Draper saw us when he tromped on the gas pedal and his car surged forward.
“This is it!” Pete yelled, pushing harder on the gas pedal. “Hold on!”
Within seconds the two cars were flying down the streets of Los Angeles, dodging traffic like it was an obstacle course.
“Where are the cops when you need them?” I asked weakly.
“On the other side of town,” Pete replied.
I glanced at Pete and knew he was enjoying the chase. He probably felt like he was back in a patrol car again, and totally in control.
“You’re going to kill us!” I howled, gripping anything I could get my hands on.
“You’d better worry about Draper and Hawks, not us.”
We passed a street – I couldn’t read the name – barely making it through a signal before it turned red. I saw a police car waiting for the light to change. He was behind us in a split second, siren wailing and lights flashing.
“All right!” Pete yelled over the whine of the laboring engine. “He’ll call for backup and we’ll get Draper.”
“Whooppee,” I whispered, my stomach lurching for the umpteenth time.
I fleetingly thought of Hawks. If I was scared, he had to be out of his mind with fear. I hoped he had a good, strong heart.
We passed another street where a second police car joined the parade. I found my foot pressing hard on a nonexistent brake pedal on the passenger side.
I closed my eyes and started saying a silent prayer. Mom had been right when she said I’d never make it as a P.I. I was about to be shot by the police and I’d die. I knew I should have listened to my mother. “Oh, Lord,” I prayed.
Draper made a sharp right turn and so did we.
“This is it!” Pete yelled.
“Oh no!” I yelled back. Wasn’t this the second or third time he’d said this was it?
“He’s going to hit a dead end and go right into that field,” he said, ignoring me.
Pete began to slow down, much to my relief, while one of the police cars pulled up behind us, honking his horn. Why on earth was he honking his horn?
I said a silent Thank you.
The second police car followed Draper to the end of the street. He’d slowed down too, also knowing Draper had nowhere to go.
Before I realized what was happening, there was a cop with a gun drawn standing by my door ordering me to get out. I obliged willingly, even though my legs would barely hold me up. I looked at Pete and he was being ordered out of the car too.
“Put your gun away, Hank,” the cop on Pete’s side of the car said. “You won’t need it.”
“What are you talking about,” came an agitated voice from behind me.
“You won’t need your gun. I know this guy. He’s one of us. Put your gun away.”
Good ol’ Hank holstered his gun, grudgingly. I could see he wanted some action, and I was glad I wouldn’t be involved. For a minute, I’d felt like he was almost willing me to make a break for it. He was young, probably a rookie.
We met at the front of the car with cops number one and two to talk. I looked up to see cops three and four walking our way, being none too gentle with Draper and Hawks.
“Pete,” I said, pointing their way.
“The little guy with the glasses is the victim,” Pete hollered at the approaching policemen. “Take it easy, huh?”
“What’s going on,” asked cop number one.
“Got a story for you,” Pete replied. “And it’s a good one.”
Chapter Thirty-five
Glancing at my little audience, I realized they were enthralled with the Stanley story. There wasn’t much more to tell, and I tried not to make it embarrassing for Stanley.
~ * ~
Pete and I gave the cops a brief account of what happened. Th
ey stood around shaking their heads when he explained about the mistaken identity. Draper’s expression alternated between horrified and angry.
Obviously, Becker hadn’t reached him in time. Draper knew they were going to nail him, and if they didn’t, Becker would. It was a lose-lose situation for him.
Pete agreed to drive to the station so we could give our statements. Stanley wanted to ride with us. He was so shaken and nervous that we had to turn our backs while he got sick. The cops were more than happy to let someone else take care of him. They didn’t want him tossing his cookies in their unit.
On the way in I tried to make small talk to calm Stanley down. His eye was twitching like there was no tomorrow. He kept saying he was okay, but I knew better.
“You’re not really all right, are you?” I asked.
“No,” he replied, as a smile crossed his face, “but I’m getting there. I have to admit that after the initial shock, I find this to be the most exhilarating experience I’ve had in my entire life.”
“That kind of exhilaration is something I can do without,” I said.
We arrived at the police station and I accompanied him while he gave his statement.
“I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes,” Pete said. “I want to see if Rick is here.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
Pete disappeared, but quickly returned to say the charges against Draper and Becker were growing by the minute.
“Stanley,” I said, turning to the little man, “can we give you a lift home?”
“No,” he replied, “but you may drive me back to work. And please call me Stan. I have to retrieve my vehicle. To be frank, I can’t wait to tell my coworkers about today’s escapade. The fellows at work will never believe it. Me! In a high speed car chase with a gun pointed at my person, just like on television.”
“Tell you what,” I said. “Pete will make sure a police unit drives you back to work instead of us, and they’ll escort you into the building, just to be on the safe side.” It would add a little credence to his story.
Pete nudged me in the back, but I ignored him. He put his hand on my arm, and I gently peeled it off. With a roll of the eyes, he left us alone while he made arrangements for Stanley’s transportation.