by Stephen John
“Is it okay if I stay with her?” Carter asked.
“You’re a naughty boy,” I replied. “Come here and give me a big hug. You can cop a feel if you want.”
The doctor ignored my comment and nodded, “Normally, we only allow overnight visitation for a husband or parent, but seeing you are all a long way from home and she has no family here in town, I don’t see a problem. I’ll let them know at the nurse’s station.”
“Excuse me, bald guy,” I said. “When can I go home?”
“We’ll see how you fare in the morning,” he said, ignoring the slight.
Everyone left but Carter. I fell sleep but woke several hours later. Carter sleeping in the chair beside my bed. He was holding my hand. I smiled and watched him sleep for several minutes before drifting off again. I held my lemon clutch bag like a teddy bear.
Chapter 18
“Carter, are you awake?” I asked. It was early. My headache had gone from a raging scream to a dull roar but I was thinking much more clearly. I even remembered the gibberish I had spouted earlier and was very pleased to see no one moved me to the mental ward.
“I’m here,” he said. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah, much better. Where am I?”
“You’re at Harborview Hospital,” he said. “We told you that yesterday. Don’t you remember?”
“No, not really,” I said. “I remember a very nice bald guy.”
“That’s your doctor, and since he will manage the rest of your recovery, I think calling him ‘Dr. Johnson’ is much better than ‘the bald guy.’”
“Duly noted,” I said. “I have to pee.”
“Okay, can you stand?”
“I think so.”
I stood and wobbled a little. Carter wrapped his arm around me to steady me. He walked me into the bathroom.
Carter blushed, “I’ll be right outside.”
Once he closed the door, I realized that the back of my hospital gown was loose and my butt was hanging out. Fortunately, I had on underwear, skimpy as they were. I shook my head, thinking it had kept my streak of embarrassing moments with Carter alive and well.
I flushed, tied my gown in the back and washed my hands. I even made it back to my bed without help.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Carter asked.
“Ricki Garcia,” I replied, “We got into a brawl. He is tough. His head is as hard as a bowling ball. I think he may have broken my shoe with his face.”
“You’re tough too,” Carter said. “Mr. Garcia is two floors up in this same hospital. He is still in a coma, but the doctor expects him to recover. When he does, he has two murder charges facing him from 2016, not to mention the aggravated assault on you.”
“Paul Pride?”
“He’s in protective custody,” Carter said. “The DEA busted and arrested Luis Alvarez while he was trying to buy Montoya’s cocaine from Paul.”
“And Montoya?”
“Arrested, too, along with about six others in his organization,” Carter said. “Once the DEA got Paul’s deposition and evidence, they moved in right away. For the time being Montoya is being held without bail.”
“Evidence?”
Carter nodded, “Paul Pride is not as dumb as some of his actions might make you believe. He’d been collecting evidence for months figuring he may need it for a plea deal someday.”
“What kind of evidence?”
“Texts. Emails. Secret cell phone videos and other stuff too. Let’s say, Mr. Montoya will not get out of this one.”
“What kind of deal did Paul Pride get?” I asked.
“Better than he deserved,” Carter said. “He accepted ten years in a minimum-security prison. It’s more of a country club with bars. They will change his name and move him to an unnamed prison quietly so Montoya’s organization can’t get to him.”
“Ouch,” I said. “I’m sorry, Carter.”
“Hey, he’s not dead, and he won’t have to look over his shoulder any longer. It was the best we could do, but he smuggled drugs. It could have been much worse. With good behavior, he’ll be out in five years. Once he’s out, he goes into witness protection. Ariel Pride is going into WITSEC right away. Paul will join Ariel later.”
“At least they’ll be together. And Sally?”
“Her fate is a chapter yet to be written,” Carter said. “Miss Sally Green is facing charges of her own. The little stunt she pulled trying to sell the cocaine directly to Montoya did her no favors.”
“Well, Carter, all-in-all we did a good thing,” I said.
“We did a good thing,” Carter repeated. “You did a good thing. I could not have done it without you.”
“How did you know I was at the jewelry store,” I asked.
“You called me, remember? But when I answered the phone, it was dead. I tried calling you back right away, but someone had shut the cell off. I figured you were in trouble. I called Ida Belle. She told me about Sally’s conversation with Ricki Garcia and the ‘see you at the store’ comment,” he replied. “I put two and two together.”
“Well, you are really good.”
“Not as good as you,” Carter said. “That was damn good detective work.”
“I’m good,” I admitted.
“Yes, you are,” Carter said. “And a good dancer, if what Paul tells me is true. He said you were up on stage shaking your—”
“He told you about that, did he?” I interrupted. “Remind me to thank him later.”
“It sounded like you were drunk,” Carter said. “Maybe that’s why he surprised you so easily.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” I said. “I was in control of my faculties at all times. I was only on that stage because it provided me the best vantage point to see everyone in the crowd.”
“Hmmm. I must have heard wrong,” Carter said.
“I wanna get out of here and go home, now.”
“Doc said one more night here should do it,” Carter said.
“You don’t have to stay,” I said. “There is no telling what Celia is up to by now. Knowing her, she may have declared you dead and taken over as Deputy by now. Maybe you should go.”
“If you think you are getting rid of me now, you have another thing coming,” Carter said. “I’m here for the duration. Besides, I want to hear the whole story about how you broke into my room to get to my email.”
I laughed nervously, “So, you heard about that, too? We’ll get to that, right after you tell me once again how the most beautiful woman in Seattle spent two nights in your room.”
“That didn’t happen,” Carter said.
“What? Don’t lie, Mister. I may have gotten knocked in the head but I remember what you said.”
He shook his head, “What you said didn’t happen because you are the most beautiful woman in Seattle, and we haven’t had time to spend the night together.”
I froze and melted at the same time. Was this Carter who just said that? My Carter? It left me speechless for a moment. Finally, I collected myself.
“Oh... you’re good. You’re really good.”
He smiled, raised his hands, palms up, and shrugged. He leaned over and kissed me. It was long and deep. After an eternity he sat back, but held both my hands in his.
“Really, Fortune. You never have to worry about other women,” he said, softly. “I only have eyes for you.”
“Carter, that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“And I want to apologize. You’ve been right this whole time. It was stupid to lock you out. We could have solved this whole mess if I have just told you the whole story and just teamed up with you. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“So maybe when we get home, I can come over to your place again with my toothbrush?” I said.
“No pajamas?” he asked.
“Who needs pajamas?”
“I’d like that. What if you brought an extra toothbrush to leave and few other things, you know, to keep at my place just
in case you wanted to come again sometime? I have an extra drawer.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into me. I kissed him.
“Really?” I said. “A whole drawer?”
“Really and truly,” he responded, kissing me again.
“I guess this really is progress,” I replied.
EPILOGUE
Carter had taken the earlier flight home. We tried to book the same flight, but the airline change fees were prohibitive. I was flying out in about three hours, but I had one more promise to fulfill.
I stood in the twelve-person deep line at Starbucks looking out the window and onto the streets of Seattle, perhaps for the last time in a long while, perhaps even forever. I ordered a simple vanilla latte.
I saw who I was looking for and sat. He handed me a sheet of paper. I looked it over and pulled a pen from my pocket.
A television monitor turned to KOMO-4 News was showing pictures of Manny Montoya and Luis Alvarez on a split screen. The headline rolled the word “Apprehended” across the bottom of the screen.
The camera then cut away to Agent Tim Young, proclaimed the hero who brought down the two biggest drug dealers in the Pacific Northwest. I smiled. There was no mention of Paul Pride or Carter or myself. That was the way I wanted it.
“Are you ready?” my male companion asked.
“Do your worst,” I replied.
I looked back at the monitor for a moment and smiled, thinking about how much had changed since I arrived in Seattle.
I heard dice rolling. Augie, my nine-year-old board game nemesis beamed and said, “Five threes. Yahtzee.”
The smile disappeared from my face. My mouth gaped open and I stared at him incredulously. Finally, I reached over and tousled his hair.
Then again, I thought, some things never change.
—THE END—
Did you love Fortune and Pride? Then you should read Fortune and Glory by Stephen John!
Fortune, Ida Belle and Gertie are in high-gear in this thriller. Fortune learns about the unsolved murder of a seventeen-year-old girl in Sinful thirty years ago. New evidence puts them on a trail to find the man in the black Fedora, the last man ever seen with the young girl alive. The Swamp Team embark on a cross country adventure, exhausting lead after lead, until Fortune gets a break—a break that places her in grave danger. Fortune finds herself in the hands of the killer, cut off from her friends with the clock winding down.
Also by Stephen John
Miss Fortune World
Fortune and Fame
Fortune and Glory
Fortune and Pride
About the Author
Steve is a retired business executive and freelance sports journalist. He loves to write cozy mysteries, though his first book was non-fiction. Steve interviewed thirty of the top poker players in the world for Phil Hellmuth's book, Deal Me In. Steve has also written a Dan Maddock novel with David Wood (Devil's Face) and a Blake Crouch's Wayward Pines novel called Unspoken. Steve lives in Seattle and enjoys spending time with his wife of 41 years, his two children and his two grandchildren. He can often be found playing classic rock on his acoustic guitar.
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