Gideon

by Grant Rosenberg

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, as she crossed the room. “Where’s your mother?”

  “She had to work tonight.”

  “Is everything all right? Are you having any pain?”

  Diego shook his head. “The nurse put medicine into my tube,” he said, indicating his IV line. “I feel okay.”

  Kelly pulled up the chair and handed Diego the small white bag that held the Italian cookies. “I brought you this.”

  He accepted the offering without much enthusiasm. “Thanks.” He placed the unopened bag on the table next to his bed. Clearly, something was troubling him.

  “I spoke to the doctor, and he said you get to go home in a few days.”

  Diego nodded; a moment later, his eyes welled up. “I don’t want to go home.”

  Kelly was perplexed. “Why?”

  He sniffed, wiped his eyes. He needed to be strong. He needed to tell her. It was the only way.

  “I don’t want to be in the gang.”

  Kelly felt a stabbing pang in her heart. She knew this was incredibly difficult for him, and the real test would come when Oscar and the others started to apply pressure.

  “Spider… he says I can still be in, even with one leg, but…” He just shook his head, the tears falling freely.

  “Diego, you don’t need to be in the gang if you don’t want.”

  Diego’s face reflected his inner turmoil. Why did he tell her? Dr Kelly was nice and smart, but she didn’t understand. She couldn’t know what things were like in the streets.

  “I can speak to your brother if you want.”

  “He won’t listen.”

  “I can be very persuasive.”

  Diego was intelligent for his age, but his blank look told her that he had no idea what that meant.

  “I’m good at getting people to do what I want.”

  “Not Spider. He’s… terco.”

  “Stubborn.” Kelly smiled. “So am I.”

  Diego silently stared at Kelly for a moment. He had more to tell her and he was weighing the upside versus the consequences. For a boy of ten in a family full of gangsters, the opposite ends of this spectrum were extreme and potentially dangerous. Like, really, really dangerous.

  Diego looked over at the closed door, then back at Kelly. He made his decision. “There’s some stuff I gotta tell you before you talk to Spider.”

  She’d never seen him so serious. In fact, she couldn’t recall ever seeing anyone so serious in her life.

  72

  Monday morning begged the question: would Kelly be able to return to work and face her staff like nothing had happened? Could she focus on her patients? How had her father been able to hide his alter ego so successfully and for so long?

  Her first order of business was to call Dr Knudsen at St Francis and tell him that she’d decided to pass on his offer. She thanked him again for the opportunity, but she owed it to her father, and to herself, to give the clinic her full attention and see if she could make a go of it. He wished her the best of luck and told her to keep in touch. He also offered to put her in contact with the hospital’s facilities manager so she could stay informed as to when they were replacing/updating their medical equipment (and looking to sell or donate their older equipment). Kelly hung up with a beaming smile on her face and a tear in her eye.

  Once the front doors opened, the stream of patients was non-stop. It helped immensely to stay busy and not have time for her mind to wander places where she didn’t want to go.

  Shortly before lunch, she treated an elderly Asian man who complained of an excruciating pain in his lower abdomen. After taking x-rays, Kelly returned to the medical bay, where he was calmly waiting.

  “Mr Wong. I found the problem.” She affixed the x-ray up to the light box and there in his abdomen was the distinct outline of a key.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you swallowed a key?”

  Mr Wong answered straight-faced, “It is undignified.”

  “And yet there it is in your small intestine. I’d ask how it got there, but the question is not how, it’s why?”

  “My wife wanted to take the car. I forbade it, but she insisted. She is small, but wiry and strong-willed. She is also a terrible driver.” He shrugged. “What else could I do?”

  The curtains parted and Annie leaned in. “Excuse me, Doctor. Dr Curtis is here to see you when you get a chance.”

  “I’ll be right out.” She turned back to Mr Wong. “You’ll probably pass this in a day or two without any complications. I’d suggest taking a stool softener to loosen things up.”

  Mr Wong nodded. “Thank you, Doctor.”

  “I’d also suggest selling the car.”

  Kelly didn’t look forward to dealing with Nathan. She was still angry that he’d abruptly abandoned them a week ago, but she softened somewhat when she saw the bandage over his swollen nose and his arm in a cast. “What happened to you?”

  Nathan nodded toward the office. “Can we talk in private?”

  Nathan closed the door behind him. Kelly motioned for him to take a seat, but he elected to stand. “First off, I’m sorry I left you in the lurch. I had some issues to deal with.”

  Kelly’s response was edged with frost. “Nathan, I’m sorry for whatever happened to you, but I need someone that I can rely upon…”

  “I know. I’m not here to ask for my job back. In fact, I’m moving away.”

  Kelly’s iciness gave way to concern. “Is everything all right?”

  Nathan allowed himself a smile. “That depends on your perspective. In the past week I came to realize that I didn’t want to be a doctor. I only went to med school because my father pushed me to do something important with my life. I didn’t have the balls to follow my heart.”

  “What changed? Does it have something to do with this?” she said, indicating his injuries.

  “Indirectly. I came to tell you about what happened last week, and about how lucky you are to have a neighborhood full of people who appreciate you more than you know.”

  Kelly listened with rapt attention as Nathan recounted the events of the night when his father’s men tried to burn down the clinic, and how Oscar not only stopped them, but also got Nathan to the hospital. He left out the part about how the Norteños beat the hell out of Burr and Junior.

  When Nathan was done, Kelly was speechless. Here was a man who’d risked his life to save the very clinic that she’d essentially fired him from. “Nathan, I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me for doing the right thing. I should’ve stood up to my father a long time ago.”

  “What happens now?”

  “With me, or my father?”

  “Both, I guess.”

  “I could go to the police and tell them everything. My father might be charged with attempted arson, among other things. Of course, his lawyers would work their magic and dear old Dad would get off with a slap on the wrist. But if it were made public, it would put a serious crimp in his business. Maybe even destroy him.” Nathan smiled. “For the first time in my life, I have the bastard over a barrel. I like that feeling, a lot, so I’m just going to sit tight and see how things go. Meanwhile, I’ve raided my trust account and rented an apartment in Florence for a month.”

  Kelly smiled. “That sounds amazing.”

  “It’ll give me time to get away from all of this and rethink my life, as well as my relationship with an abusive, overbearing asshole of a father. I never got to know your father very well, but I always envied your relationship with him. The love and trust were clear to see.”

  Kelly opened her mouth to respond, but then realized she didn’t know what to say.

  Kelly walked Nathan out and wished him the best of luck. She thanked him again for his part in saving the clinic. He said if she felt like getting away from it all for a while, his apartment in Florence had two bedrooms. She could even bring along her boyfriend. Kelly gave him a quick peck on the cheek and urged him not to abandon his future in medi
cine. He had a tremendous amount to offer and it would be a shame to cast it aside out of spite.

  It had been an unexpectedly good day. Between her conversations with Dr Knudsen and Nathan, and the satisfaction she got from treating her patients, Kelly was feeling hopeful for the future. Perhaps it would be possible for her to compartmentalize the abnormal events of the past few weeks and consider them outliers. What happened with the Morettis was a complete and total aberration. It didn’t define her and shouldn’t weigh her down as she moved forward with her life.

  Kelly believed she had the strength and discipline to focus on what was important and block out the rest. Jessica, the clinic, her relationship with Pete… that was her future (although the latter was going to be tricky). There was no reason for her to look back.

  It was with those encouraging thoughts that she strolled through the night, headed for a rendezvous with Pete. If he got tied up at the station like he normally did, she’d grab a seat at the bar. Maybe Alexa would be there and they could share a glass of wine. If not, she’d treat herself to a glass of that top-shelf bourbon. She was looking forward to spending time with Pete, talking about anything other than his cases. She didn’t want to hear any more updates on the Tommy Moretti case, and she definitely didn’t want to know if the death of Tommy’s cousin in Oakland set off any bells within the SFPD. All she wanted to do was have a wonderful dinner and maybe even talk about where the two of them could go on a holiday.

  Kelly was fantasizing about a rental apartment in Florence. How great would it be to step out of your building and look up at the Duomo, or leisurely window-shop on the Ponte Vecchio? Her thoughts of Italy were so captivating that she never heard the person come up behind her.

  The last thing she remembered was the intense pain of being clubbed in the back of the head.

  73

  Pete sat alone in the booth at 44 Degrees and checked his phone for the third time to make sure the sound was on. Still no message from Kelly. It wasn’t like her. She’d call if she were running late. Since the death of her father, she’d been more distant, which was understandable. However, in the past week things had begun to get back to normal, or so Pete thought.

  He was staring at the single remaining ice cube floating in his scotch when someone slipped into the seat across from him. He jerked his head up, expecting to see Kelly, and was surprised to find Alexa, a glass of wine in her hand. “Did my girl stand you up?”

  Pete shrugged. “She probably got hung up at the clinic.”

  “Probably.” Alexa took a sip of wine, then dived in. “Mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  “Guess it depends how personal.”

  Alexa smiled. “Do you have something to hide, Inspector?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?” He took a drink, set down his glass and nodded. “What’s up?”

  “Is everything going okay with you and Kelly?”

  “As far as I know. Why? What’s she said?” Pete suddenly felt like he was back in high school.

  “That’s just it. She hasn’t said anything. The past month has been really hard on Kelly and I worry about her, but she’s not letting me in.”

  “I know how you feel. It’s like she’s built a wall to protect herself.”

  “Exactly! She’s still mourning her father, but there’s something more intense going on… gnawing at her from the inside. I tried to get her to open up, but whenever we get to a place where I think she’s going to confide in me, she closes down.”

  “So, what are we supposed to do?”

  “I don’t know. Give her time, I guess. Unless you have a better idea.”

  Pete wrapped his fingers around his glass and swirled his drink, staring into the amber liquid, looking for answers. He slowly brought it up to his mouth and took a long drink, letting the blended malt smooth out his edges.

  Alexa knew men, and Pete was clearly conflicted about something. So she was right! Pete and Kelly were having problems, but Pete was too macho to admit it and Kelly was too proud to ask for advice.

  Pete broke the silence. “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea or not, but I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

  Alexa almost spewed twenty dollars of Chardonnay across the table. “Tonight?”

  He nodded. “That was the plan, anyway.”

  “Have you two talked about it before?”

  “I’ve mentioned it a few times, but Kelly’s never been ready to make that kind of commitment.”

  “What makes you think now’s a good time? With everything we’ve just talked about, this could make her implode.”

  “It could, or it could be exactly what she needs. Reinforce the fact that I’m there to support her through whatever she’s dealing with.”

  Alexa drank the remainder of her wine, set down her glass and ran her finger around the edge, producing a slight vibrating hum.

  “Come on, Alexa. What do you think?”

  “I think her head’s pretty messed up right now, and that’s a big question to lay on her. Having said that, you should do whatever’s in your heart. Just don’t hurt my girl.”

  “I’d never do anything to hurt Kelly.”

  74

  Not everyone shared that sentiment.

  When Kelly regained consciousness, the first thing she noticed was that she was tied to a heavy wooden chair in a large, dimly lit, musty room. The second thing she noticed was the throbbing ache in the back of her skull. She had no idea how long she’d been out or where she was. She also had no idea who attacked her or why.

  She was literally and figuratively in the dark.

  Tommy and Angelo were obviously out of the picture, but who else knew about her? Why would someone knock her out and imprison her in some abandoned building? The only thing she knew for certain was that this didn’t bode well for her.

  Her mouth was gagged with a cloth that tasted of dirt and oil. Her hands were lashed to the arms of the chair and she struggled with her wrists to test the bindings. There was a small amount of play, but not enough to wriggle her hands out from the coarse rope. Her feet were tied to the chair legs and raised slightly off the ground so she couldn’t touch the grease-stained pavement with her toes. She tried rocking the chair back and forth, to no avail.

  The fact that her confinement closely mirrored the way she had bound Tommy Moretti wasn’t lost on her.

  This didn’t bode well for her at all.

  Her eyes strained to take in her surroundings and she caught sight of her cell phone, or what was left of it, on the floor nearby. It looked like it had been through a wood-chipper.

  Stray car parts were strewn about. A dented bumper was propped up against one wall. Over in the corner, a broken axle stuck out of a rusted brake drum. An engine block sat on a heavy wooden workbench next to a tool chest that was covered in grime and dust. It was either a defunct repair shop or the set of a low-budget horror film.

  Who the hell brought her here… and why?

  One of those questions was answered when a man stepped to the penumbra of the shadows. His approach was slow and tentative, as if he didn’t want to risk revealing himself. She took this as a positive sign. If she never saw his face she wouldn’t be able to identify him, which meant she had a chance of getting out of there alive.

  That all changed a moment later when he awkwardly moved forward and the weak overhead bulb partially illuminated his face.

  There was something familiar about him, but she couldn’t place him. She saw so many people every day at the clinic that after a while their faces blurred into one. There was nothing distinctive about him. Average build, average height, dark brown hair. Nothing that would make him stand out in a crowd. That was, until he took another step forward and she saw that half of his face was shiny, like melted wax. But it wasn’t wax… it was layers of scarring.

  Kelly was stunned.

  She’d been taken prisoner by the Hollow Man!

  Pete left another message on Kelly’s cell, reminding her that he was at the restau
rant and asked her to call him when she was finished at the clinic.

  He put down his phone and picked up the fresh drink in front of him. Alexa had invited him to join her and a friend for dinner, but Pete declined. Alexa felt bad about leaving him to twist himself into knots with his conflicted thoughts, but agreed with his assessment that he’d be lousy company.

  The question was, how long could he just sit there? It wasn’t the waiting that bothered him. It was the uncertainty of the situation.

  As each minute passed he grew antsier, and his thoughts grew darker. There was no reason to believe anything was wrong, but Pete was a cop, and because of that he tended to look at life with a jaded point of view.

  He would finish this drink and then head over to the clinic. He knew he’d arrive to find Kelly patching up a patient, a look of fatigued satisfaction on her face. She’d apologize for being late and he’d say “no problem”. They’d lock up and head back to the restaurant, or maybe pick up some take-out and go to her condo.

  That scenario brought a smile to his lips. He pushed the darker thoughts to the farthest corner of his mind and allowed himself to imagine a wonderful evening ahead. If everything went well, maybe he would propose to Kelly tonight.