Lunatic City
Page 20
I plopped the card into my lap. “Suze, I—”
“Don’t! I’m such a fool! All this time you were chasing ‘bad guys’ you were fucking these girls!”
I tried to sit up. My battered body protested. “It’s not like that at all! Allyssa was just—I—you and I were—”
“Were what, Frank? Married?”
I fell back onto the bed. My body didn’t care for that. I didn’t care that it didn’t. “We were separated. You were gone.”
Her laugh was dark and bitter. “Well, I’m glad to see I’m so easy to replace, Frank.” She shook her head and looked at the wall, her voice full of disgust. “I’m such a goddamned fool! I came down here to comfort you because you were dying and alone, but you had someone the whole time.” She pinned me with her eyes. “Is she a new tart, Frank, or were you fucking her on the beat?”
I wouldn’t look at her. “What difference does it make? You’ve already made up your mind. Just bring my daughter back to me tomorrow.”
She laughed. “Oh, that’s not happening! I’m not gonna take the risk of her running into one of your whores!”
I glared at her. “You can’t do that!”
“I’m not doing it. You did. Get Allyssa to come down here and nursemaid you! We’re not risking our safety for you anymore!”
She turned and stormed from the room.
*******
Suzanne was true to her word. Neither she nor Maddy came the next day, or the day after or the day after that. There was nothing for me to do but stare at the ceiling and feel sorry for myself.
It was four days before I got any visitors, and I could have done without them.
“Mr. Parker?”
I turned my head towards the door. A man and a woman stood there. The man was short and stocky. His hair was cut into a flat-top. His suit was cheap and worn. He had a stiff demeanor.
The woman was taller. She kept her brown hair in a bun. She wore flat lace-ups and a pant suit.
Cheap and utilitarian: cops.
“Yes,” I said.
“My name is Detective Sergeant Darren Norrington, and this is my partner Detective Lacy Hammond.”
She didn’t smile, didn’t nod, didn’t do anything.
Neither did I.
“We’re here to ask you a couple of questions.”
Of course you are. “I’m sorry, Sergeant,” I said. “I can’t help you. I told the first detective that came by it was dark and I didn’t get a good look—”
“Oh,” said Norrington. “We’re not here about that. That’s someone else’s case. We’re here about Lenny Marquez and Tommy Henson. Do you know them?”
I held Norrington in my gaze.
Lacy might have been trying to burn a hole in me with those eyes. I can’t say that I blamed her. If I thought I’d butchered those people that way, I’d be looking at me like that, too.
“I’m afraid I really can’t talk, right now. I don’t feel well.”
“I understand that you’ve been up and around for a week or so, now.”
I just kept my eyes closed, as if not seeing them would make them disappear. “I have my good days and my bad days.” I opened my eyes and looked at him. “Today’s a bad day.”
I looked at the door and back to him.
He smiled. “Ok, Mr. Parker,” he said. “You win. Just remember: you’re not going anywhere.” He leaned over the bed. He winced as he did so, but he recovered and glared at me. “Neither are we.”
*******
The next day they moved me to a ‘stepped down’ room. I had a roommate, a cantankerous old man who’d fallen out of bed and broken his hip. He was supposed to go home in a couple of days so I’d likely get someone different before long.
The cast was off, but my arm was still slung to my body. I was able to walk, but I wasn’t allowed. So I walked anyway. I was standing in front of the window of the observation room.
“What are you doing out here?” Cassy Eckhart was my day nurse.
I kept looking out the window. “I can’t wheel myself out here with this damned arm in a sling,” I said. “Had to walk.”
“Well,” she said. “You fall, you get me fired.”
I smiled at her melodrama. It wasn’t as bad as all that.
“I brought you a package.”
I looked up at her. I was sure it would be from Janet Foxx or Shelly Stanley. But I reconsidered when I saw it. A single brown envelope was marked in bold black letters: FRANK PARKER CONFIDENTIAL. There was no address, no notation of who had sent it.
I took it in my good hand and weighed it. This was no light read. “Thanks.”
“I should take you back to bed.”
I looked out the window. “Please don’t. I’ll send for you when I’m ready to return.”
She gave me an evil eye but nodded. “You’d better, or we won’t be friends anymore.”
I smiled and turned back to the package. It was printed paper right out of the Stone Age. I drew them out and read the top page.
It was notes from an interview. The names had been redacted, but the meaning was clear. This person was talking about Rick’s investigation into David Carson. My body went numb, and I read on.
*******
It was after ten when the night nurse came for me. “You’ve been out here for over ten hours!”
I didn’t like him as much as Eckhart. He wasn’t as nice to look at.
“Sorry,” I said. “Got caught up reading.”
“Well, come on.” He motioned to the wheelchair.
I climbed in.
He didn’t speak again until we were pulling into my room. “It’s been a day for you and packages. This thing was waiting at shift change.”
I looked at it. I was a long flower box. It had been taped and taped and taped.
“Did you screen it?” I said.
The nurse looked troubled. “I’m sure we did. There are procedures here, you know.” He looked at it for several long seconds and said, “Maybe I should call security.”
The card was in my hand by then and I recognized the script: Mr. Frank Parker, personal and private.
I shook the package and didn’t know if I should smile or frown. I looked at the nurse. “No, it’s ok. I’ve got this. Can you pull the curtain?”
I worked for minutes on the tape, but I understood when I pulled the lid from the box. Jupiter was laying inside, his clip next to him, full of ten mil rounds and a box of ten gauge shotgun shells.
I smiled and drew another note from inside. I read the same familiar script and frowned.
Keep this close. You’re going to need it.
About the author:
T. Allen Diaz is the author of dark, fast-paced science fiction. Lunatic City is his first detective-noir novel featuring Frank Parker.
He is a lifelong resident of the Tampa Bay area where he still lives with his wife and three children where he is working on his next project, the yet-to-be-named last installment of The Proceena Trilogy.