Bleeding Blue

by Don Weston

  “What the hell are you doing here and how did you get past security?” Angel said.

  “I just waited for the cop guarding your door to go to the bathroom,” Chris said, matter of fact. “The way he was guzzling coffee, I knew it wouldn’t be long.”

  Angel started after him with her purse cocked, and he backed around my bed with his hands up as a defense and laughed. “Are we going to play now? Maybe I can take your friend to court too.”

  I reached out and somehow managed to grab Angel’s wrist and reel her in. She got a second wind and started flailing her arms and, for the life of me, I don’t know how I managed to hold her back. I realized it was only my white-knuckled grip on her blouse doing the job. The rest of me was sliding off the bed. Angel realized I was heading for the floor and caught me. Angel is strong despite her small stature. She lifted me back to my bed, her face now flushed at what she had done.

  “I can’t take much more of this,” I said. “He isn’t worth it. If I can control myself, you should be able to do the same.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m usually pulling you off of people.”

  Chris The Creep rubbed up against me from the other side of the bed and whispered in my ear, touching it with his slimy lips.

  “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

  And that’s when I realized maybe Angel was right and this role reversal we were doing was out of character for me. Even sick I didn’t need to put up with this shit. I shoved the barrel of my Glock under his chin and showed him a wicked smile.

  “Want to go for double or nothing, Creep?”

  He stood immobile, unflinching, and I watched for the telltale beads of sweat that would show me he knew I was serious. About the time the perspiration appeared, he managed to take a slow step away from me.

  “Hey Billie, you got me all wrong. I just came here to see how you were doing. All I’ve been hearing is about you being on death’s door. So, when I heard this morning that you’re alive again, I said to myself, ‘I got to thank that bitch for making me rich.’”

  Angel picked up a vase filled with daisies and clipped him alongside the head. Neither vase nor head broke open, but the daisies and water splattered on the floor. Chris yowled and staggered back to the wall.

  “Crap, call her off. Will you?”

  “I’m surprised you got the balls to show up here.” I slipped the Glock under my pillow.

  “I was just talking to one of my detective friends and asking him about maybe bringing you by. I think he was afraid I might shoot you or something because he declined.”

  Chris had recovered and grinned again with one hand holding the side of his head and one eye on the pillow hiding my Glock. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  I know false courage when I see it. I watched Angel take a puff from her phantom cigarette while hunting for another solid object to throw. Chris noticed too and took a step toward the open door. I grabbed Angel’s arm and shook my head, which made me feel lightheaded. I wanted to question The Creep about his motives and I needed him conscious.

  “Chris, don’t you think it was a little premature to kill me before you won your court case? The judge might have had to throw your petition out for lack of a defendant.”

  “Hey, I didn’t have anything to do with it. You’re my meal ticket, and I was still in jail when you were shot.” His dirty brown eyes lit up, and he paused as if considering his position. “I see what you mean about me having a motive, though. I thought about you a lot in stir. Man, it really hurt when you rammed my head into that revolving door. I was in the hospital for a week and I still get migraines.”

  “Knock it off,” I said. “You aren’t playing to a jury now. I heard you were caught robbing a house within a week of being bonded out. And you were only in the hospital overnight to make sure you didn’t have a concussion.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “I was headed for a seven-to-ten stretch ‘cause some old lady croaked of a heart-attack when I was doing her joint. Then Ron Epps called and offered to be my lawyer. He remembered me from the revolving door thing and thought he could get me off and maybe get me some money from the city for your unprovoked attack.”

  “Unprovoked?” I said. “You stole my purse.”

  “Hey, that’s what I do. Don’t take it personal. Just like you go around finding guys cheating on their wives, I steal purses and do the occasional burglary. Shit, I put as much effort into my craft as you do. I spent years learning how to spot a mark. I do a lot of research on the places I hit. It takes planning and skill, the work I do.”

  Angel laughed and plopped herself in a nearby chair, crossed her legs and took another puff from the cigarette that wasn’t between her fingers anymore.

  “I think I saw you on that TV program,” she said. “The Dumbest Crooks Caught on Video. Weren’t you the one who got stuck in the ducting trying to crawl into a restaurant through a chimney on the roof?”

  “Good one, shrimp,” Chris said. “She’s got a mouth on her, huh. Where was I? Oh yeah, my lawyer. Epps gets me a deal where I have to serve one-to-three years, but because of prison crowding I catch a break. Next thing I know, I’m standing in front of a parole board and being ushered out the door. Doesn’t the justice system rock?”

  “I thought you got out on appeal.” I said.

  “What? Nah, I’m on probation. Even the system thinks I’m not that bad a guy.”

  I was getting tired of this jerk and decided to hurry the interview along. “Angel, could you excuse us for a second?”

  “What? Leave you here with this asshole?”

  “Angel! Please?”

  “I need a cigarette,” she said. She made a huffing noise and stomped out of the room. I asked her to close the door and she slammed it shut on the way out.

  “Chris, I want you to know I don’t think you’re dumb,” I said. “I notice how people talk, how they think, how they carry themselves. And you, my friend, are a smart bird.”

  “You’re not BS-ing me, are you?” He smiled, not wanting to but he couldn’t help himself.

  “Nah. You and I are a lot alike. We notice things. We plan things. We’re careful most of the time.”

  “Yeah, you gotta be in our business.” He kicked at some imaginary dust on the floor.

  “See, that’s what I mean. You think things through. That’s why I want to believe you didn’t try to have me killed.”

  “Hey, I wouldn’t do that to a pretty thing like you. Of course, you aren’t very attractive lying in a hospital bed with messed up hair and no makeup and that huge shiner you got going, but . . .”

  “You’re turning my head with all your flattery.” He actually acted a bit sheepish when I said it. Who knows, maybe crooks have feelings. “Like I said, I don’t want to think you put a hit out on me, but there’s this one thing that has me questioning my instincts.”

  “What?” Chris’s face turned serious.

  “Well, when I was lying on that cement floor, my blood pouring out of me, I was still conscious, you see.”

  “Yeah,” he said, real intent now, like I’m going tell him the secret of life or something.

  “First they were talking about how easy it was to knock me off,” I said. “They thought I was dead or dying, see.” He nodded. “Anyway, one of them started talking about you.”

  He stood there still nodding his head, and I waited to see if it ever was going to sink in when he cocked his eyes and head in one motion.

  “Talking about me?” he said. “What do you mean? Why would they be talking about me?”

  “That’s what I’m wondering, Chris. They said I wasn’t so tough and how you said it would be hard to catch me off guard.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous. I don’t even know those guys.”

  “What guys?” I asked.

  “The guys you’re talking about. I never met them before.”

  “How do you know? Do you know what guys I’m talking about?”

  ‘Well, no.” He thought
about that for a moment and slowly a smile crept to his lips. “No, I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  “That’s funny,” I said. “They seemed to know you. One was a tall thin white guy with greasy brown hair and a tattoo on his shoulder. The other was a short wiry Asian with black hair. The third guy was tiny. He was four-foot-six, maybe, baby faced. Shit, I thought he was ten at first glance. He looked Asian. Thin as a rail with short hair and mean, beady eyes.”

  I watched him for any sign of recognition but he played it cool and disinterested.

  “I know a lot of guys, but I never come across anyone like what you’re talking about.”

  “The tall guy with the tat said they’d be getting paid when you got out of stir.” I frowned. “I didn’t know at the time that you were that close to getting out. No one called me and I’m off the police bureau, so I don’t have the inside scoop anymore. Plus, I was kind of busy trying not to die.”

  “You. . . You’re not going to tell that story to the cops, are you? That’s all bullshit. You’ll make me prime suspect in your shooting and violate my probation. And you know I didn’t do it. Like you said, why would I kill the golden goose? You were going to make me rich.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’ll have to think about it. On one hand, it might take care of my financial problem. I mean, being found guilty of an attempted capital crime would probably keep you from collecting on your lawsuit. Or, I could appeal my case and probably win it now that they’ll see you for the scumbag you really are.”

  “You can’t do that,” he said. “You’re lying. I never hired anyone to kill you.”

  Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead and that’s what I wanted. Unfortunately, I believed him. He was sweating not because he was guilty of the attempt on my life, but because he thought I was going to frame him. And maybe I could.

  “Come here.” I patted my hand softly on the mattress.

  He hesitated and reluctantly stepped toward me wringing his hands. I grabbed him by the balls and squeezed hard enough to let him know who had the upper hand.

  “Jeez, they’re softer than I thought. Angel was telling me earlier you had brass balls.”

  “Ouch, let go. Shit, you’re killing me. Let go.”

  “In a minute. I want a few things from you first.”

  He squirmed to get away from my grasp, but he didn’t try too hard. He stopped short at a swing toward my jaw when I squeezed in self-defense. It must really have hurt.

  “First, I want you check around and see if you can locate these three guys or find out if anyone has heard about them and where they might be.”

  “Shit, I’m small time. I got no connections around town.”

  “Shut up. Just go around and shoot off your mouth about how you’re taking me to the cleaners and how someone shot and almost killed your golden goose before you could collect. That gives you a chance to say ‘Gee, I wonder who could have done that?’ You wanted to keep me alive until you collected your money. That’s your angle.”

  “Ohhh! I don’t know,” he said. “Someone might roll me for the cash I haven’t got yet.”

  “That’s your problem. You have until I get out of the hospital to come up with some names. Got it?”

  “Okay. Anything you say. Please let go.” He flinched as I squeezed for emphasis.

  “Don’t get bossy. It makes me cross. Next, you’re going to renounce the lawsuit against me. Get to your lawyer and tell him you’ve changed your mind. And if you say one word to him about why, I’m going to go straight to the cops and tell them what I know.”

  “I’m not going to do any such thing,” he said. “I got that money fair and square, and I’m going to keep it. Ohhh. Please let go.”

  “Finally, you’re going to apologize to Angel for all the nasty things you said. It doesn’t bother me, but Angel is very sensitive.”

  “You mean the Lesbo remark?” he said. “Ouch, and the threesome thing at my place? Yeeouch. Dammit, stop it. They’re turning blue.”

  “Can they do that? Well, yes, I bet that is possible. Yes, that would be nice, but I’m talking about when you called me a bitch.”

  “What? I don’t get it. I didn’t call her a bitch.”

  “No, you called me one and believe me I am one very tough bitch. I can say it about myself, but in Angel’s eyes, no one else ever better say it to or about me. I don’t know why, but it sets her off.”

  “Okay, you got it. Please let go.”

  “What about that second thing? Are you going to renounce your claim?”

  “Ouch, ouch, ouch.” He did a little dance. “No way. No way. You can cut ‘em off, I’ll still have the money to spend. I’ll buy new balls.”

  “You won’t be spending my money in prison and without balls you might be the main attraction for the guys at the big house.”

  “Jeez, please let go. I’ll find the guys that did this to you. I promise. And I’ll apologize to your friend. Two out of three, Billie.

  “You have until I’m released to change your mind,” I said. “Then, I go to the cops. Or maybe I take the law into my own hands. You doubt me? Check out the newspaper article where I blew away a guy last year who tried to rape me. Turns out he was a serial killer. I managed to turn the tables on him, and I was going to turn him over to the cops. Then he started bragging about how he’d get a good lawyer and be back on the street in a few days. I was pretty sure he was going to drag me into the back of a van and probably kill me at the time, and he claimed he’d done it before.

  “You see, I believed him when he said he’d get off easy and two seconds later he struggled and was dead from a bullet up the jaw. I was a P.I. at the time and it was self-defense. Or was it Justice?”

  “You’re serious?” Chris gawked at me wide-eyed.

  I winked at him.

  “You’re crazy,” he gasped.

  “Now you got it.” I let go of his balls.

  He limped to the door, stooped over and mumbled something to sound tough, but not loud enough for me to hear.

  “Don’t forget to apologize to Angel.”

  “You can’t threaten me like this.”

  “Hey, there aren’t any witnesses this time. Don’t make me come after you.”

  A minute later I heard Chris mumble something in low voice to Angel outside my door. I lie back on the pillow and somehow felt much better.

  Later, I would remember back and wish I could feel this good again.

  Chapter 4

  The day I left the hospital was worse than the day I had entered it.

  My one-week recuperation actually took two weeks. Darrin convinced the doctor I couldn’t be trusted to stay down and recuperate properly at home. He might have been right. I had enrolled on COBRA, and I still received the police bureau’s extended health benefits, which had a month to go, so I thought I’d make the best of them.

  But when I learned the handsome doctor was married, there was no real reason to stick around. Even Chris The Creep abandoned me, failing to show with any information about my assassin.

  It was a little after nine Friday morning when my brother Darrin strolled into my hospital room. I sat on the bed, dressed in blue jeans and a white blouse, waiting for the doctor to come and officially cut me loose. I felt good. My wounds healed nicely and I was down to minimum levels on the pain medication.

  “I’m glad you convinced me to stay down and take care of myself,” I told him. “It gave me time to put things in perspective.”

  “Really?” Darrin asked.

  “Almost dying makes you stop and think. All my life I’ve been like a guided missile seeking trouble wherever I go.”

  “You just have an explosive demeanor, Sis, but that doesn’t mean you don’t do good things,” he said.

  “I would have run out of here a week ago and hunted down the S.O.B. who shot me if they’d let me out then,” I said. “But in the last week, I got to thinking there must be more to life than chasing after criminals and fighting
everybody who gets in my way.”

  “I’ve noticed during the past few days you seem to have softened,” he said. “Does this mean you don’t plan to hunt him down?”

  “I’m thinking, let the police handle it.” I stopped short, not believing those words were coming from my mouth. “I guess I’ve been re-evaluating my life. What I want from it.”

  “Have you come to a decision?” he said.

  “Not entirely. But I’ve been wondering what it would be like to get married and settle down. Maybe have kids.”

  Darrin squinted at me. “You don’t think I can do that?” I said.

  “Sis, I think you can do anything you set your mind to, but I don’t ever remember hearing you talk like this before.”

  “Dad died in a shootout when I was fourteen. I can’t remember his face. I try, but it won’t come. Mom passed away two years later. I’m convinced she died of a broken heart after losing Dad.”

  “I was twelve when Dad was killed,” Darrin said. “We all had to grow up sooner than we would have liked. It was worse for Dan. A twenty-one year-old-shouldn’t have to raise his brothers and sister.”

  “I don’t want to die young. Does that sound selfish?”

  “No. But we shouldn’t let fear run our lives,” he said. “If we live in a constant state of fear, we can’t be in the present enough to truly enjoy life. Dad told me that once and I never forgot it.”

  “Aren’t you afraid you might be killed in action, like Dad?”

  “I think about it sometimes,” Darrin said. “But I don’t let the fear rule me. At age 30 I’ve had a rich life. I’ve met some wonderful people and some who weren’t so wonderful. But I can usually find something good in most of them. Something I can take and apply to my life, which I hope makes me a better cop and a better person.”

  “But aren’t you afraid of dying?”

  “I have my belief in God,” he said. “No matter what happens to me, I know it’s God’s will. I turn my fear over to him so I can do what he meant for me to do.”