Sweet Smell of Sucrets

by Renee Pawlish

  For the moment, I was alone, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before Mick came back. There was no way Quinn and his gang could allow me to live because I knew everything. I reached out for the scalpel again but I couldn’t get it, so I pulled against the ropes. My right arm wasn’t tied quite as tight as the left, so I frantically pulled against the rope and it finally gave a bit. I struggled and my wrist slipped out of the rope.

  “Yes!”

  My elation was short-lived. I sat up and tried to get the rope on my left wrist untied, but it wouldn’t give. I reached for the scalpel just as the door opened again and Quinn rushed in. His eyes darted to me, then to Gus lying on the floor. He launched himself at me and I dove to the side and slipped off the table with him on top of me and with my left hand still tied to the railing. The tray table fell over, sending tools and the tray all over. My left arm was still tied to the railing and I ended up sitting on the floor with my arm above my head. Quinn scrambled to his knees and dove at me. He hit me full on and my shoulder wrenched at a funny angle. I yelled in pain and tried to push away from him. I flung out my free hand and found a scalpel on the floor. Quinn punched me in the side as I stabbed him in the thigh with the scalpel.

  He screamed and pushed backward, then yanked out the scalpel.

  “I’m going to kill you with this,” he snarled.

  As he came toward me, I snatched up the tray and swung it at him. It hit him squarely on the head. That stopped him. He wavered woozily and I hit him again. He toppled over.

  I snatched the scalpel from his hand, sliced the rope that held my left arm and I was free. I staggered to my feet and ran out of the room, the gown flapping around me. I looked left. There were two more doors, but neither appeared to be an exit, so I went right. Down the end of the hall was a door that led to the lobby, so I headed that way. As I passed the short hallway that led to the back alley, a shadow slammed into me. I’d forgotten about Mick. We crashed into the wall and all the air left my lungs. I sank to my knees, gasping for breath, then began crawling away.

  “Got you,” Mick said as he held onto my leg.

  I twisted away from him and pushed myself up, but he clutched at my gown, getting a piece of it in his hand. I jerked backward and tumbled back onto him, my bare backside in his face. He grunted and pushed me away. Then shouts filled the hallway.

  “Police! Freeze!”

  I got to my knees and held up my hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mick raise his hands as well.

  Spillman stood at the end of the hall, her pistol aimed at us. I saw her partners, Ernie Moore and “Spats” Youngfield, behind her, along with a couple of uniformed cops.

  “Don’t move,” she said as she edged down the hall.

  “There’s two more in that room,” I said and turned to point.

  She signaled to Moore. “Go check it out.”

  He and Youngfield hurried down the hall past me. I heard Moore snicker as he went by.

  Spillman kept her gun on Mick. “Arrest him,” she said to the uniforms. They came forward and performed that duty.

  “Am I under arrest, too?” I asked, completely surly.

  “Relax, Ferguson,” Spillman said. “We’re not after you.”

  “Isn’t that nice.” I sat back and suddenly became aware of my state of undress. I tried to tuck the gown around me. “I apprehended three of them. A nurse and an anesthetist ran out the back.”

  “Yeah, we got them. We’re not completely incompetent.”

  A commotion erupted in the lobby and Willie appeared in the doorway, but a uniformed cop was holding her back. “I called the police and told them what was happening here,” she yelled, “so the least you can do is let me see if my boyfriend is all right.” Anger and indignation echoed throughout the hall.

  “It’s okay, let her in,” Spillman called out.

  Willie pushed past the uniform and sprinted toward us.

  “Reed!” she yelled. She fell to her knees and hugged me. “Are you all right? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

  “I’m okay,” I said. “A little bruised.”

  “Thank God.” She hugged me again and began to cry. “When I listened to your message, I called Spillman, but I was worried we wouldn’t make it in time.”

  “You didn’t have any time to spare, that’s for sure,” I said.

  She wiped at her eyes, and for the first time, noticed that I was nearly naked.

  “You don’t look very much like a noir hero,” she said, trying to hide a smile.

  Spillman put a hand over her mouth to cover her own laughter.

  I struggled to my feet, tried to cover my ass, then mustered up as much dignity as I could. Dignity may never have saved anyone, but I still wished for some right now. “Help me get my clothes, please.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Spillman was kind enough to let me get dressed, although we had to wait until Moore, Youngfield and the other uniforms arrested Quinn, Gus and Mick and escorted them away. Then she followed me into the operating room and watched while Willie stood in the doorway.

  “How about a little privacy?” I asked.

  “I’ve already seen it,” Spillman said, trying hard to keep a straight face.

  “What? You think I’m going to tamper with evidence?” I barked as I pulled on my underwear and then my pants.

  “I wouldn’t put anything past you,” Spillman said.

  I didn’t have an answer to that. I threw off the gown, put my shirt and shoes on, then Willie and I walked with her back into the lobby.

  “I need some time with Reed,” Spillman said to Willie.

  “Uh, sure.” Willie squeezed my hand. “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

  She left and I suddenly felt weak-kneed and my head was pounding, so I sat down. Spillman leaned against the wall and crossed her arms.

  “How’d you end up here?” she asked, her face impassive.

  I took a moment to gather my thoughts, and then I began. As I talked, all the events of the past few days seemed to meld together.

  “And how did you make the connection between Gus and Strickland?” she asked at one point.

  “I noticed Gus hanging around Trevor Welch’s house and I followed him.” That was true. It left out a lot more than it explained, but I couldn’t admit to breaking and entering into Farrell’s office and Welch’s house. Although since Welch’s house was unlocked, it technically wasn’t breaking and entering, just entering.

  “And you don’t know anything about the missing file from Farrell’s office?” she asked.

  I shook my head.

  Disbelief flickered across her face. “It doesn’t matter,” she finally said. “We figured out the file was for Welch and that led us back to his mother. And when someone,” she emphasized the word ‘someone’, “reported Welch’s body, we interviewed the cabin owner.”

  “Strickland.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you hadn’t made the connection between Strickland and Doctor McKenzie.”

  “No,” she said. “But you did, and I want to know how.”

  “I followed Gus here.” I again decided to leave out some details, like that Ace was the one who followed Gus to McKenzie’s office. If she had to talk to a Goofball Brother, I wasn’t sure who would be more confused: Ace, because that was his natural state, or her as she would try to follow Ace’s muddled train of thought.

  “Gus could’ve been a patient here,” she said.

  “True, but he wasn’t.”

  “How do you know that?”

  I didn’t know, but again, I couldn’t tell her what I did know, and I couldn’t bring Cal into this. “I asked around,” I said evasively. “And I had connected Welch to Gus, and Gus had been to McKenzie’s office, so I checked out the office.”

  “You staked it out.”

  “Is that against the law?”

  “No,” she said slowly. I’m sure she was also wondering what laws I had broken and hadn’t told her about.

  �
��And that’s when I saw the suspicious activity during the night, and I heard McKenzie say he needed to check on Strickland, and I found out the car Gus was using belonged to Strickland, so I ended up there…and then here.”

  I left out the part about the Ryersons because I really didn’t want to get them in more trouble than they already were. In all likelihood, Anna was going to need more medical care, and they would have to tell someone what they’d done. But that could be on their terms.

  Spillman sighed. “If you had shared what you knew,” she waved a hand in the air, “we could’ve saved you all this trouble.”

  “I didn’t have proof of anything,” I said. “And I couldn’t wait on you guys.”

  “I’ve told you before, I have to operate within the law,” she said. “And when evidence is stolen, that hampers our investigation.”

  That was all true, and we’d had that conversation before. I shrugged. “I had to clear my name.”

  “Are you admitting you took evidence from Farrell’s office?”

  “No,” I said, looking her in the eye.

  She knew I was lying, but she let it go. “You could’ve been killed.”

  I shrugged. “That wasn’t part of my plan.”

  We sat in silence for a minute.

  “What’s your plan?” I asked. “Am I under arrest?”

  “We’ve got to interview Quinn and the others, and I’ve sent someone to arrest Strickland. But,” she sighed heavily, “since Gus told you he killed Farrell, he’ll probably try to cut a deal.”

  I snapped my fingers. “Hey! I recorded them.” I pulled out my phone and hit the ‘play’ button on the recording app. Strickland’s voice filled the room. We listened for a minute.

  “I’ll need that.” She held out a hand.

  I reluctantly surrendered the phone. “When can I get it back?”

  “I’ll bring it back later.”

  “As soon as you can. Please.”

  “So I can go now?”

  She nodded. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “I’ll wait breathlessly,” I said, then moved toward the door.

  “Hey, Ferguson.”

  I turned to look at her. “Next time keep your pants on.”

  “Ha ha,” I said.

  I walked out and the door shut behind me, cutting off her laughter.

  ***

  A few days later, I’d recuperated and Willie and I decided that a small celebration was in order, so we invited our friends to B 52’s for some burgers, beer and pool. It was just the kind of relaxation I needed.

  “What happened to those thugs?” Bob asked after we toasted my freedom.

  “I recorded a good bit of what happened,” I said. “Enough to worry them all. Gus cut a deal, just like Spillman said he would. That way he won’t face the death penalty. The others are facing some serious jail time, too.”

  Willie put her arm around me. “That thug gave up the others to save his own skin. What a coward.”

  “Yeah, but I’m glad he did,” I said. “Otherwise I would still be a suspect.”

  Cal sat down on the other side of Willie. Yes, Cal had come out of hiding for the evening and seemed to be enjoying himself.

  “Man,” he said, drawing the word out, “when you went to Strickland’s and didn’t call me back, I was sure I was going to have to come rescue you.”

  I stared at him. “Rescue me? You?”

  I was teasing Cal because after he’d called me and got my voicemail, he told me that he’d repeatedly called Willie until she answered. That had gotten the ball rolling. He was even going to come down to Denver to help, until Willie listened to my message and called the police.

  “Yes,” Cal said. “I was headed out the door when Willie called and said to stay put.”

  “So she rescued me.” I grinned.

  Cal chuckled. “I’m glad she did because I didn’t know what I was going to do.” Rare words from him. Almost as rare as him coming out of his sanctuary in the mountains to join us.

  Willie lightly punched me. “Stop teasing him.” Then she put her other arm around Cal. “I’m so glad you came tonight.”

  He blushed. “Yeah, well, I guess Reed’s worth it.”

  Just then, Henri Benoit walked up to me.

  “Henri, I’m so glad you could join us.” I stood up and introduced him to Willie and my friends.

  “I am glad that you are not in trouble anymore,” Henri said. Then he introduced a woman, no more than five feet tall, to Willie and Cal. “This is my wife, Evaline.” Her long silvery hair was pulled into a bun and a twinkle lit up her mocha eyes.

  “Ah, Reed, it is good to see you,” Evaline said as she tip-toed kiss both my cheeks in European fashion. “It is so noisy in here, not our cup of tea, but I wanted to meet this girlfriend of yours.” She smiled at Willie.

  “It’s so nice to meet you,” Willie said.

  Willie and Evaline started chatting as if they’d known each other for years.

  “Your Willie, she is charming,” Henri murmured in my ear.

  “Yes, she is,” I said.

  “You are going to marry her, yes?”

  Had he been talking to my mother?

  “I think it’s a good possibility,” I admitted.

  “You would be a fool not to! I can tell she loves you very much,” Henri said.

  I smiled and looked at the floor. Then I changed the subject and we talked about old movies. Soon, Henri and Evaline said their goodbyes. The noisy bar really was too much for them, but I was touched and honored that they had taken the time to come celebrate with me. And I was pleased that they both liked Willie, and she liked them.

  “Hey, Reed.” Deuce tapped me on the shoulder. “We’re going to play some pool. I’ll play Bob first and then you’re next.”

  “It’s a deal,” I said.

  My cell phone rang and I glanced at it.

  “Who is it?” Willie asked.

  “My mother.” I started to put the phone back in my pocket.

  “Don’t ignore her,” Willie said.

  “Have you been conspiring with her again?”

  “Moi?” She put a hand over her heart. “Only to tell her I’d make sure you let her know how you’re doing. She worries about you.”

  “So the answer is ‘yes’.”

  “ ‘Conspiring’ is such a negative term, Reed. We chat, that’s all.”

  I sighed and answered the phone.

  “Reed, sweetheart, how are…what’s that noise? What’s going on?” my mother said, the words coming fast and furious. “I can’t hear a thing. Are you having a party?”

  “You could say that,” I said.

  Deuce leaned across the table. “We’re celebrating!” he said a little too loudly.

  “What’re you celebrating?” Mother asked.

  “He’s not going to jail!” Ace piped in.

  “Ace,” I hissed.

  “What? Jail?” I could hear the instant worry in her voice.

  “It’s nothing,” I said.

  “Paul!” Mother called to my father. “Your son’s going to jail.” Then to me, “I knew it! This detecting business has gotten you into trouble, hasn’t it?”

  “Just the opposite,” I said. “It’s kept me from going to prison.”

  “Prison? Paul, did you hear that?”

  There was a rattling on the other end of the line and then my father’s gruff voice came to me. “Son, what is going on?”

  I could picture him in his shorts, ready to go sit on the lanai with an after-dinner drink.

  “It’s all okay, Dad.” I sighed. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to worry you.”

  He sighed elaborately. “It’s too late for that. At least for your mother.”

  What else was new?

  THE END

  Thank you for reading Sweet Smell of Sucrets. If you enjoyed it, would you please write a review? You have no idea how much it warms my heart to get a new review. And this isn't just for me. Think of all
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  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Detective Sarah Spillman appears in three short stories that you can read in the short story collection, Take Five. It also includes a Reed Ferguson short story, Elvis And The Sports Card Cheat. You can also buy the stories separately.

  Purchase Take Five here: http://amzn.to/14iNQCA.

  Purchase Seven for Suicide here: http://amzn.to/1kIvesw

  Purchase Saturday Night Special here: http://amzn.to/1icGeuU

  Purchase Dance of the Macabre here: http://amzn.to/1nicv4r

  What Others Are Saying About Nephilim Genesis of Evil by Renée Pawlish

  5 Star Review

  Stephen King and Dean Koontz have long been known as masters of horror. I believe you can add Renee Pawlish to that list… The plot is entrancing. It grabbed my attention from the beginning and held it to the end.

  Readers’ Favorite

  A Spooky Blend of Biblical Intrigue and Modern Paranormal

  This book is clearly written by a pro. The scenes are colored with rich description, depth of character and a cast that is reminiscent of Henry Fonda's On Golden Pond. However, there is an evil in this story that FINALLY brings the Nephilim to life and uncovers the dark secrets that scripture has keep hidden for millennium. If you enjoy reading supernatural fiction that meshes our distant past and the present, you will enjoy this most excellent book.

  Kindle Book Review

  I Couldn't Put It Down!

  This book grabs you immediately and it doesn't turn you loose until you've read the last word. Carefully plan when you will begin reading it because it's more than likely you won't be able to put it down. Renee Pawlish is now on my favorite writer list and it's not a long one.

  Bert Carson, author of Southern Investigation