by Alexie Aaron
"You didn't go in there and see that,” I asked him.
"No, I didn't, but we all smelled it."
"Good. It wasn't pretty. I guess I better call Michael's aunt and Betty." I put my hand out for the phone.
"I already called them. They're going to meet us at the hospital."
"Thanks, Harry, you're a peach," I said and walked over and looked in the door, anxiously waiting for Michael to be brought out.
"They aren't quite sure how to shift the materials off him without doing more damage," Harry informed me. "Relax, his vitals look good. They say he is severely dehydrated, has a major concussion and one or two breaks in his left leg."
"Ouch. Did you see all the ant bites? I wonder how long he has been lying there."
Dave came trotting out of the building. "Harry, we could use another hand down there." He looked at me and said simply, "Stay."
They left me wringing my hands. I don't do well when I’m on hold, so to speak. I’m a woman of action, but I’ve learned that when I’m told to stay by Dave, I’d better stay. Fortunately, it wasn't too long before I heard footsteps. The emergency team had Michael on a stretcher and was taking him to the street where the helicopter had landed. I followed them, hoping to be able to catch a glimpse and assess how Michael was doing. His eyes were shut and he was still. I didn't know if it was because every limb had either been bandaged or braced or that he was unconscious. Either way, I willed him my strength.
After the Medevac copter took off, I went in search of Harry so we could get on the road. Two other police vehicles pulled in, and I directed them down to Dave who was in the midst of coordinating the crime scene. Harry stood back and was so engrossed with the procedure that when I tapped him on the arm he jumped.
"Wha..."
"Relax, I’m going to the hospital. Are you coming or staying?" I asked quietly. Dave's voice was now barking commands at a crime scene team in the back room.
"Going, otherwise I would have to walk back. Let me ask Dave if we can leave."
Harry walked over and waited for a break in Dave's instructions. I saw him nod his head but said something else to Harry that I couldn't hear as several other police officers arrived. Harry came back over and led me out of the building.
"He said we would have to give a report, but he could catch up to us at the hospital or at home."
We found my car, and even though it appeared to be blocked in by vehicles, it was small enough to maneuver around them, and soon we were on our way. Neither of us talked for a while. In my case, I was sorting things out in my mind. In Harry's case, he was busy rifling through my CDs looking for some music he could stand. He settled on a compilation CD of Chris Cornell music that Noelle had made for me. I let the music wash over me and soon felt the tension ease out of my body. I left the screaming to Chris. I looked over, and Harry had his eyes closed and seat back as far as it could go in this two-seater.
The hospital loomed up on the outskirts of my village. The helicopter had already landed. We parked the car and headed into Emergency. It didn't take long to find Betty and Diane. They were making plenty of noise about getting in to see Michael. I walked over to them and presented myself as a distraction, much to the relief of the triage nurse.
"He's in good hands. This is a good hospital. All of us Lathens have survived this emergency room. In fact we have been here so often that we should have our own parking space." I led them back over to the waiting area. "I can tell you what I know if it would help."
"Yes, anything, this is so maddening," Diane confessed.
"He was conscious when I found him. He's dehydrated and has quite a few red ant bites. I saw a swelling on the left side of his head, and they tell me he has a fractured left femur."
"Did he tell you why he was there?"
"He didn't talk very much. He did say that it wasn't an accident. I took her hands in mine. "I think he's going to be alright. I can't explain it, but it’s just a feeling I have."
Diane eased back in her seat, and Betty put a meaty arm around her. Harry got up and asked if anyone wanted anything to drink as he was heading to the snack area. I begged for coffee, but the others declined.
Harry came back and handed me the coffee. He had a soda, cookies and chips. It always amazes me how much he can eat and still stay fit.
"Cin?" said a voice over my shoulder.
I turned around and saw our family doctor. "Doctor Meyer," I said, getting to my feet.
"Who is it this time and why wasn't I called?"
"Actually, it’s a friend of mine. Father Michael Williams. He was brought in via the Medevac copter. This is his aunt Diane Williams and his friend Betty."
"And I see Harry over there. You know all that junk is going to catch up with you, young man."
Harry smiled, showing Dr. Meyer his mouth full of cookies.
"Doctor, I know it isn't your business but…"
"Could I find out what's going on?" he finished for me and patted my back. "Sure thing, be right back." He walked away, and I sat back down.
"Where did you find him?" Diane asked evenly.
I related as much as I could to her, editing out finding another body and our suspicions about terrorists. Betty looked like she wanted to ask more in-depth questions, but I cautioned her with a look, and she nodded and mouthed "later."
Doctor Meyer returned and sat down next to Harry. He accepted a chip from Harry's bag and ate it before speaking to us.
"Good news and bad news. Good news first. He’s conscious and his vitals are steadily improving. Bad news is that he's in considerable pain. He has been X-rayed, and they’re waiting for the film to be read. What I could tell from the chart is that he’s being treated for dehydration, and they’re trying to find a way to reduce the discomfort of the ant poison. They don't want to overmedicate him because it looks like he is headed into surgery for his leg soon. I also asked for someone to come out and talk to you, Mrs. Williams."
"Miss, Diane's fine. Thank you, doctor," Diane said.
Doctor Meyer got up and snatched the bag of chips from Harry, and as he walked off said over his shoulder, "Someday you'll thank me for this, Harry."
"Don't," I cautioned Harry as he started to lift a finger.
"Ms. Williams," A male nurse called as he scanned the waiting area.
Diane stood up to identify herself.
"Ms. Williams, you can come back now."
Betty got up, and I watched as the two of them disappeared behind the closing doors.
"You didn't tell them about the corpse."
"Nope."
"Or that he will be under police guard till they sort this out."
"Nope. I figured that he wouldn't be walking out of here soon, and besides it’s Buslowski's job. Let's let him do it." I sat back and closed my eyes.
"So, where do we go from here?" Harry asked.
"Home, we're done."
"What?"
"She asked us to find him and we did," I said quietly.
"But..."
"No, Harry, no," I said firmly. "There’s a dead body, and I thank God it wasn't Michael. But you and I aren't equipped. Hell, it’s a murder investigation now." I opened my eyes and patted the seat next to me. Harry came over and sat down. I leaned over to him and whispered, "This is big, and frankly it scares me. Sure, I have,” I corrected, “we have, dealt with worse before, but to invite it in?"
"I hear what you’re saying. It's just I don't want to leave the movie before it ends." Harry sat back and put his hand through his hair. "Maybe you’re right. We should sit out the next dance."
"At least until we learn the steps," I said, looking at my feet.
Chapter Thirteen
I walked outside to use my cell phone. I gave Noelle a heads-up call and called Bernice just to hear a friendly voice. I had to settle for the answering machine as she wasn't there, probably outside tending her yard. I had just hung up when something unusual caught my eye. There, walking through the wavering heat waves of the pa
rking lot, were four priests. I could have sworn I heard the music from The Good the Bad and the Ugly as they came into focus. Father David was one of the priests, so I imagined the other three were Peter, Paul and Father Thomas. They all seemed to be around the same age, forties maybe fifties. Two had dark hair, graying at the temples, giving them a priestly air. The other priest’s hair was fair and balding. No comb-over for this man, his remaining hair short and neat.
I let them walk past me into the building. I waited and counted to three and the doors slid open, and Father David walked back out.
"You're not here for my dance lesson are you?" I asked a very puzzled priest.
"No, we’re here to get Michael out and underground where he'll be safe."
"You might have a problem."
"Yes?"
"There are two tigers protecting him and a bevy of county cops wanting to know why he was under a pile of rubble twelve feet from the rotting corpse of a Spanish bus driver named Manuel Perez."
"How do you know it’s Perez?" an accented voice came from behind Father David.
I tapped my forehead and faced who I assumed was the mission priest. "Because I'm smart. Father Peter, tell me how long is the sanctity of a confessional? Is it to death? Because if it is, then you’ve a lot of talking to do." I held up my hand. "And not to me, to them." I pointed to the flashing lights that were turning in from the highway.
Father David gripped my wrist. "We can't do this now."
I stared at both men and took a leap of faith. "Listen, Harry is inside. Ask him to take all of you to my house. Drop the collars before you hit my neighborhood. I don't want to have to explain things to my Jewish neighbors. Cool your jets there and send Harry back in his car with a change of clothes for me. Go. I’ll stall the cops."
They both walked inside, and I walked over to the approaching vehicles. Buslowski pulled his right up to the door.
"Maternity is on the other side of the hospital." I smiled.
He hauled himself out of the car and patted his stomach and then looked at my expanding waistline.
"Okay, okay, I can't talk."
"How's our boy doing?"
"He was conscious, but I hear he is heading for surgery."
"You’ve seen him?"
"Nope, I'm not family."
"I better get in there. Where's Harry?" Dave looked through the windows at the waiting room.
"He's home getting me a change of clothes," I said as I watched Harry drive by in a strange car behind Buslowski. "Do you mind if I tag along?"
"I think it would be better if you sat down in the waiting room and..."
"Wait?" I finished.
"Smart girl." He pushed by me, and I followed him into the hospital.
I decided to appear to be playing by his rules. I sat back down and tried to drink my stone cold cup of coffee. "This is rancid," I said to no one in particular. I got up, walked over and poured it down the drinking fountain and dumped the cup. I looked out the window and saw Harry and the priests drive out of the visitor's lot. I shook my head, and as I turned back around, I saw Buslowski burst back through the Emergency doors. He walked right up to me and got in my face.
"Where the hell is he?"
"I told you where Harry is."
"Not Harry. Michael what's-his-name."
"Michael Williams. I don't know. Surgery?" I suggested lamely.
"He never made it to surgery."
I wavered a bit. I played back in my head the car Harry was driving and how many other heads were there. "I don't know. Of course, I never saw him in the hospital. Did he even arrive?" I backed up so I could focus on Dave.
"Listen, Lathen, I know you're up to something."
"It's Fin-Lathen, and all I’m up to is standing here trying to digest what the hell you're saying to me. Was there a classy rich lady and a mountain of a woman in Emergency or did I imagine them?"
"Yes, they’re sitting down in an empty cubical."
"Ask them. They saw him last. Trust me, Buslowski. After all, I trusted you with my freaking diamonds."
"Your diamonds?" he challenged.
"Well, I got used to them. Did you lose them like you lost Michael?" I spat back.
"We'll talk later about the diamonds. Right now, I have a dead man whom you seem to know. I’ve a missing witness-slash-suspect whom you found dying under a pile of crap. The only thing we have in common here is you." He took out a pair of thumb cuffs and cuffed me.
"Buslowski, you frigging bastard, these hurt." I glared at him and walked over and sat down and continued to glare. "I’m not telling you how to do your job, but I would get back in there and ask those women a question or two before you lose them too."
He turned heel and nodded to one of his men and told him to watch me. He went back into the emergency room.
I was so angry. I couldn't remember being this angry when I was strung up and sliced into by a transgendered thug. I found Father Michael. I should be patted on the back, not cuffed. I ignored that I was holding back information, otherwise I couldn’t build up a big enough head of steam. I was angry. I wanted to be angry, even if it was unjust. With a little difficulty, I managed to get my cell phone out of my pocket. I explained to my minder that I forgot to turn it off, maybe I could just turn it on vibrate? He grunted and dismissed me. So I opened the phone and texted Harry, “No +s @ hm cops on way com bck cops pissed.”
After I sent the message, I cleared the phone, put it on vibrate and slid it back into my pocket. I amused myself thinking of ways to torture Buslowski. I looked at the other people in the room who were whispering and casting furtive looks my way. I knew they were talking about me. I wasn't even being paranoid. Hell, I would talk about me. I noticed that they had moved as far away from the cuffed convict as possible. Must have thought I was a crazed felon. I slouched down and tried to look the part and made sure my scarred left arm was to the crowd of whisperers. “Yeah, get a good look. Knife fight.” In the middle of my daydream, the doors of the emergency room opened. I watched as Dave came back out with Diane and Betty. He was very kind and respectful to Diane and treated her with dignity. He was a bit wary of Betty, as anyone who was out-muscled by fifty pounds would be. He sat them down and walked over to me.
"They think he’s in surgery."
"Maybe he is," I spat.
"No, he isn't."
"Did you tell them that?"
"No."
"Chicken shit," I said and crossed my legs and put my cuffed thumbs on my knee as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do. "Here comes, Harry," I said as Harry came in the door.
He walked over carrying a bag of clothes. Glancing in the bag I saw to my horror that they were my daughter’s. I hoped I wouldn't have to put them on.
"Hey Dave, what's up? Cin, have you heard how Father Michael's doing?" Harry said innocently.
Dave bought it. "Where were you?"
"Home, getting Cin a change of clothes as instructed." He looked at me. "What's wrong with your hands?"
I was about to reply when Betty loomed up behind Dave.
"Miss Williams wants to know what's going on."
Dave turned around and faced the Betty wall. I was hoping that she would beat the crap out of him, but my hopes were never realized because he never got the chance to tell her anything before a nurse trotted over to him and breathlessly explained that they found Father Michael.
"Where was he?"
"Surgery. They took him up and must have put him in the wrong room."
I wrinkled up my face. "How'd… Ah, never mind."
Dave started to follow the nurse.
"Excuse me," I called after him. I held up my hands. "Do you mind?"
As he bent over to undo my cuffs, I whispered into his ear, "Listen, doughnut guzzler. I'm going home. I'm not leaving the country as you have my diamonds. Once I cool down, I will be back to check on my friend." With my thumbs released, I grabbed the sack of clothes from Harry and stormed out of the building. I left, squeali
ng my tires and making sure I broke several traffic laws on my way home.
Chapter Fourteen
As I pulled into the driveway, I noticed that my garage door wasn't going up even after I pushed the control several times. I parked the car, glanced at a darkening sky and put the top up before I walked to the front door. I was fiddling around with my key chain, trying to figure out which was the front door key when the door opened on its own. Not a lot, just a crack. If I didn't have to pee I would have turned around and left, but as nature was calling, I decided I would face whomever, I suspected the clergy, was in my home.
I pushed the door open and shut it behind me. Father David stood there with his rosary stretched between his hands just in case he had a choking to go to.
"Let me go to the bathroom, and then we’ll talk. I can't think when I have to pee." I walked by him and into my bedroom suite.
As I took the nature call and then washed off some of the grime of the day, I reflected on my life. It just wasn't boring enough. I should go out of my way to be bored. I dried my hands, ran them through my curls and went in search of my guests.
I found two of them in the den. The dark haired man using my computer introduced himself as Father Thomas and put his finger to his lips, after Father Paul, who was on the phone, rubbed his bald patch in irritation at not being able to hear his conversation. I backed out and followed my nose into the kitchen where Father Peter was frying some hamburgers. I didn't look for Father David because I could feel him shadowing me. I opened the door, walked outside, kicked off my shoes and stuck my aching feet in the cool pool water.
I heard Father David pull up a lawn chair and sit down next to me. He kept his shoes on.
"So, you took Michael away and then you brought him back?" I asked, not looking at him.
"Yes, we only wanted to talk to him in private."
"I hate to tell you this, but if you talked to him in front of Harry, you weren't in private."