by Lynn, JB
“Prepare to scratch the intruder’s eyes out,” God ordered Piss.
“I’d probably have better luck tripping him,” the cat replied.
I nervously walked over to the door and listened to a second repeat of the rat-tat-tat being drummed into it. Taking a deep breath, I tried to look tough, as I swung it open.
I don’t know what I was expecting when Gino said he’d send over a doctor, but it certainly wasn’t her.
The woman in front of me was even shorter than I am, with long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She looked like she was barely old enough to have finished high school, let alone any kind of medical school.
“Hello,” she said with an abundance of cheer that didn’t seem to match our dismal surroundings. “You called for a medical professional?” She extended her hand. “You can call me Doctor Yes.”
“Like Armani’s prediction,” I muttered under my breath, my mind going to the Scrabble tiles I’d pulled earlier.
I stared at her suspiciously. Not that I didn’t trust Gino or his judgment, but she didn’t look like she was up to the job. Doctor Yes peered around me and spotted her patient, lying on the floor. “Oh my,” she murmured, pushing past me.
She didn’t carry a doctor’s bag like I expected her to, but rather an oversized floral tote.
She bent and quickly assessed the patient, checking his pulse at his wrist.
“Did he pour the alcohol on his wound?” she asked, noticing the empty bottle lying beside Angel.
“Actually, I did,” I admitted, closing the door to the motel room.
She grimaced her distaste.
“He asked me to,” I said defensively. “He was a medic in the Navy and has training in this sort of thing. I wanted to call a doctor or an ambulance or—”
She held up a tiny hand to silence me. “We should get him on the bed.”
I eyed her doubtfully. “Just us?”
“I’m stronger than I look,” she assured me. “I’m sure you are, too.”
“No,” God piped up from where he was perched on the night table beside the bed. “She doesn’t go to the gym. She’s a weakling.”
Doctor Yes turned around, looking for the source of the squeaking. While her back was turned, I stuck out my tongue at the lizard.
The physician turned around and caught me. She cocked her head to the side, as though assessing whether I was a completely different kind of patient.
“How do you propose we do this?” I asked quickly, doing my best to project the vibe of a sane person.
“I’ll take his shoulders,” she told me. “You take his feet.”
Somehow, the two of us did manage to get Angel onto the bed. I was sure I’d pulled a lat muscle or maybe it was a trap…not that I know what either of those things are.
“You really do need to go to the gym,” God said from his vantage point.
“Do you know what happened to him?” Doctor Yes asked as she snapped on a pair of latex gloves and began to examine Angel’s wound.
I decided it wasn’t a good idea to share that he’d said that he’d cut himself shaving. “I don’t know.”
“But he was conscious when you arrived?”
I nodded. “But he passed out after the alcohol thing.”
“Well, he seems to be a healthy specimen.” For emphasis, she knocked on his chest with her little fist. “His natural clotting abilities have kicked in and there isn’t too much blood loss now.”
“That’s good,” I said hopefully.
She nodded. “But it’s worrisome that he hasn’t regained consciousness.”
“He opened his eyes once,” I told her.
“For how long?”
“A couple of seconds, maybe?”
She reached into her designer bag like a miniature Mary Poppins and began pulling out surgical instruments, gauze, and surgical tape. “I can clean out the wound and put a couple of stitches in, but he’s going to need care.”
I frowned; I didn’t have the time to offer him care, not that I didn’t want to, but there were other things I had to worry about. “What kind of care?” I asked carefully.
“He’ll have to be monitored to make sure he doesn’t develop any signs of infection, like a fever.”
She surveyed the room. “And of course, this isn’t the most sterile environment for him.”
I nodded slowly, unsure of what to do. I understood that Angel needed something I wasn’t able to provide, but I wasn’t sure who could, short of revealing his situation to his uncle, or admitting him to the hospital where he actually worked.
“Ask Gino,” God suggested from the table.
Realizing that he was probably right again, I nodded my understanding.
I watched as Doctor Yes worked with quiet efficiency to disinfect and sew up Angel’s wound.
“This is going to leave a scar,” she said. “Pity, he’s such a beautiful specimen.”
She knocked on his chest again, and I wondered if she even realized he was a grown man and not a lab experiment. When she was done, she left as quickly as she came, tossing all of her supplies back into her big flowered quilted bag.
“My services have already been paid for,” she informed me. “If his condition deteriorates, our mutual friend can get in touch with me.” With that, she let herself out of the room, closing the door behind her.
I sat on the bed beside Angel and looked down at him.
“It would be a lot easier if you could just get up.”
There was no reaction from the unconscious man.
I was about to call Gino to see if he also knew of some twenty-four-hour nursing care that could be done on the side without any paperwork, without any insurance, without anybody finding out. But as I reached for my phone, Templeton called again.
“What’s the vote now?” I asked tiredly.
“They’ve broken for the night,” Templeton announced. “Nothing was decided. But that’s not why I’m calling…”
My stomach clenched at his tone. Something else was definitely wrong.
22
“Detective Brian Griswald was here,” Templeton told me tiredly.
“Is he arresting Leslie?” I asked.
Templeton chuckled. “Not that he mentioned. Why would he do that?”
“Well, she did drug him,” I reminded him. “She gave him some of her special hot cocoa.”
“I think Leslie is low on the list of the detective’s priorities,” Templeton said.
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. Detective Brian Griswald, nephew of Aunt Susan’s husband, Lawrence Griswald, was a decent guy. He wasn’t the kind of person who would go around carrying out a petty grudge. He must have had a good reason for coming out to the compound.
“So why was he there?” I asked carefully.
“It’s about Archie.”
Templeton let the words just hang there.
I groaned. I have a complicated relationship with my father, Archie Lee. On the one hand, he causes all kinds of trouble. On the other hand, he’d recently saved my life, so I was feeling more generously toward him than usual.
“Now what did he do?” I asked impatiently. I was juggling enough, between the move, taking care of Angel, and figuring out what to do about Boy’s mother.
“Well, for once,” Templeton said with a little cheer, “it’s not exactly his fault. A couple of his old cellmates from prison broke out, and there’s a theory going around that they’re looking for him. That he owes them something.”
I frowned. “He probably does.”
“Anyway, I thought you should know,” Templeton said.
“I appreciate the heads up,” I told him.
“Susan and Lawrence are staying here overnight,” he revealed. “They decided as soon as they heard something with Archie was going on. I get the feeling the marshal is going to try and protect everyone here.”
“That sounds like Griswald,” I said. Aunt Susan’s husband may be a U.S. Marshal but he, like his nephew, is a good guy. Maybe t
hat kind of thing runs in families. Knowing about the antics of myself, Darlene, and Archie, I think it’s safe to say it’s not present in the Lee family tree.
“Tell everyone I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I requested of Templeton.
“Will do,” he said. “But the way everyone’s been yelling at each other, or storming away, I’m not sure I’ll even be able to get the message out.”
He disconnected the call after that.
“Now what’s wrong?” God asked.
I was surprised he’d been patient enough to remain silent through the phone call. I quickly brought him and Piss up to date on what was going on.
For once, God had no advice to offer.
Determining there wasn’t too much I could do about Archie, I decided to do something about Angel. I dialed Gino’s number and waited while it rang three times.
“You in danger?” he asked. No hello, no how are you, just that.
“No,” I began. “I—”
“I’ll call you back.” He hung up on me.
I stared at my phone, not sure of what to do. I couldn’t leave Angel alone in his state, but I was worried about my family.
“Could be the redhead is in the parking lot,” God suggested.
I squinted at the lizard. “What? You think I should ask him to play nursemaid to the mobster’s nephew?”
As though he sensed he was being talked about, Angel stirred.
I waited, watching carefully, hoping he’d open his eyes, but he did not.
“All I’m saying is that your murder mentor may have access to additional resources,” God said carefully.
“He does have a point there, sugar,” Piss purred. “I’m content to stay here all night, but I get the feeling you’re itching to get back to keep an eye on the family.”
I nodded. I wasn’t sure what the protocol was here.
Would Delveccio consider it to be a betrayal if I asked the cop/hired killer on his payroll to look after his law-abiding nephew?
“There are never any easy answers,” I complained out loud.
“Sure, there are,” God argued. He was perched on my shoulder and he patted my cheek with his little foot. “Always say yes.”
“Always say yes?” I asked incredulously. “That’s your advice?”
“Yes.”
“You think that will solve my problems?”
“Yes.”
“Armani told you,” Piss piped up, understanding where the lizard was coming from. “The tiles didn’t spell easy. They spelled Yes. Twice.”
“Yes! Yes!” God cheered. “You know, for a creature with fur, you’re not as stupid as the rest,” he told the cat.
She narrowed her one good eye at him. “Gee, thanks.”
After a moment’s deliberation, where I remembered that most of the time, Armani’s predictions were usually right, I got up off the bed and began to walk toward the door.
I opened it, glanced back at Angel, still passed out, and said, “I’ll be right back.”
“Yes! Yes!” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see God doing a fist pump with his little foot where he was balanced on my shoulder.
I scanned the parking lot, looking to see if I recognized a vehicle Patrick might be using. Not that I ever knew what he was driving. He always changed cars.
I held out my hands, as if to say I don’t know. I’d hoped that he’d flash his headlights at me, signaling he was there, but the lot remained dark.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked. “Walk around the lot hoping to find him?”
“It would be more efficient than just standing here,” God agreed.
Turning, I reached to pull the door closed behind me, and my cell phone buzzed.
“That must be him,” God said.
Pulling my phone out, I scanned the lot. “Hello?”
“Sorry about that,” Gino said gruffly. “I was in the middle of something… challenging.”
I took challenging to mean dangerous, but I didn’t ask.
I quickly filled him in on the doctor’s visit and that I needed a nurse to take care of Angel overnight.
“You could stay with him,” Gino suggested.
“I can’t,” I told him. I quickly told him about the situation with my father and the escaped cons.
Gino remained silent when I was done with my story.
“You there?” I asked finally.
When he spoke, he seemed to be choosing his words slowly and carefully. “I’ll take care of the nurse and I’ll tell the boss about Archie’s entanglement.”
“Why?” I asked.
“So we can get some protection on your family.” He hung up without saying goodbye.
“He thinks the family needs protection,” I told the cat and lizard.
“Sounds like Griswald does, too,” the lizard mused.
The knot in my stomach grew tighter.
23
I think every light, in every room, was on in the compound when I got back.
I parked my car, let Piss out, and slowly emerged.
“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” I told God.
“Don’t be so negative,” he told me. “Remember, Yes.”
I shook my head but didn’t say anything to him. I moved slowly toward the main house, where I could hear raised voices.
Before I got to the door, it swung open, and Leslie burst out. She was moving so fast, she almost knocked me over. I barely managed to jump out of her way.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, whirling on me. “What’s wrong is that my sister has always gotten her way.”
I waited, unsure if she was talking about Susan or Loretta.
“But not this time. This time, I’m going to get what I want,” she insisted.
“Your grow room?” I asked.
“Among other things.”
“To be fair, you do know that Susan is married to a U.S. Marshal, and his nephew is a police detective, right?”
Leslie put her hands on her hips and glared at me.
“You can kind of understand why they’re not going to encourage illegal activity,” I said weakly.
“So, I guess that’s how you’re voting, huh?”
“I was going to abstain from that vote,” I told her.
“You can’t abstain, Maggie,” she lectured. “This is family. This is life. You don’t get the option of abstaining.” With that, she whirled back around and stalked away.
I was tempted to chase her into the shadows, worried the people who were after Archie would be after her, too, but before I could make a decision, there was a giant crash from inside the house.
“Oh, that can’t be good,” God remarked.
“Thanks for pointing that out,” I muttered, thinking that was probably the understatement of the year. I hurried inside to see what was going on.
“Everyone calm down,” Herschel yelled from the living room.
I followed his voice.
“I’m calm,” Loretta screamed hysterically.
“Maybe I should call Doc,” Marlene offered.
“There’s so much blood,” Susan said worriedly.
I ran around the corner to see what bedlam awaited me.
Templeton was lying on the floor. Aunt Susan looked like she was trying to smother him by pressing a throw pillow against his head.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“He’s hurt,” Loretta said.
Aunt Susan let up on the pillow and pulled it back to show me that Templeton had a giant gash across his forehead that was bleeding profusely and he was getting progressively paler.
“Call Doc,” I told Marlene.
She fumbled for her phone.
“What happened?” I asked.
Everyone started to answer me at once and I couldn’t make any sense of what they were saying.
“Everybody shut up!” I shouted at the top of my lungs.
Miraculously, they all complied.
“How are you feeling?” I asked him.
“Like a picture fell off the wall and smashed me in the head,” he told me.
Glancing around, I saw that a heavy ornate frame was lying on the floor, face down.
“Did somebody attack you with it?” I asked.
“Margaret!” Aunt Susan gasped.
I glanced up at her. I’d seen Leslie and Loretta on the verge of coming to blows over an ancient quilt earlier in the day. I didn’t think it was that much of a stretch to think somebody had attacked poor Templeton.
“What?” I asked impatiently. “You think it’s an outrageous question to ask? Have you seen the way everybody’s been behaving lately?”
Susan shook her head. “Nobody attacked him.”
“Physically,” Loretta piped in. “We’ve all been under attack verbally.”
“Doc says to keep applying pressure to the wound and elevate his feet,” Marlene said, her phone pressed to her ear.
Susan pressed the pillow harder. I scrambled down to Templeton’s feet. Kneeling on the floor, I propped his shoes on my shoulders. Considering my clothes had been ground into the disgusting carpet of the sleazy motel room and now had become a footrest, I was seriously considering burning my outfit.
“He wants to know if you’re dizzy?” Marlene asked Templeton.
“No,” he said firmly. “I’m really okay.”
Considering I could see the blood was starting to seep through the throw pillow, I didn’t think he was exactly okay, but then again, it had been proven I wasn’t any kind of medical expert.
“Give me your phone,” I said to Marlene, holding out my hand.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I want Doc to take a look at the wound,” I told her, “and everybody knows you get queasy at the sight of blood.”
Averting her eyes, she happily handed over the phone and retreated to the far end of the room.
Herschel put an arm around her shoulders and gave her an encouraging squeeze.
“Doc, I’m gonna show you Templeton’s injury. Then you can tell us if we need to take him to a hospital or call an ambulance.”