As her memory slowly returned, however, she thought her bed might not be safe enough. Perhaps she should consider crawling into a hole and pulling the dirt in on top of her instead. Everything was jumbled and nothing made sense to her. Elgin and how she felt about him, the phone call, and the man in the stairwell. It was a riddle in which none of the clues made sense.
The doctor reexamined her, then left the decision of being admitted to the hospital up to her. He also added a list of stipulations that were to be strictly adhered to if she chose to go home.
“Well, you look like hell,” her grandfather pronounced, smiling his encouragement, love, and concern. “But at least we know you bounce real good.”
With the familiar feeling of her bed at her back and with her grandfather and Bailey to watch over her, Kelly fell asleep pondering the events of the night before.
It was like a splendid dream that suddenly went askew, as dreams often do, to become a horrendous nightmare.
She’d given in to her attraction for Elgin with the ease and certainty that came with doing something completely, positively right. Yet she’d seen with her own eyes that he wasn’t the kind of man she could ever love. She couldn’t, but she did…
Lord, it was impossible to deal with, she decided, rolling over in bed, careful not to turn her head too quickly. She wouldn’t make any decisions or tell anyone the truth about Elgin or her fall until she could think more clearly.
The phone call. Why had he disguised his voice? Did Elgin think she wouldn’t know it was he? She didn’t harbor any secrets but his. Or did she? No. Well, certainly none that would get her thrown down a flight of stairs to insure her silence. The voice of her attacker, did she recognize that? No. She didn’t know anyone who could contain the venom she’d heard in that voice.
Stay away from Baker. The words played over and over in her mind. If Elgin’s deceit was the only threatening information she possessed, who wanted her to stay away from him? If he wasn’t the man who’d called her and then attacked her, who was it? And how had he gotten into The Library so quickly after the phone call?
Never one to question the state of a man’s mind or events that occurred during the course of daily living, Kelly was finding that her problem-solving thought processes were rusty to the point of being inoperative. All she had were questions and no answers.
“Kelly? Kelly? Are you sleeping?”
She slowly turned toward the door and Tommy Shaw’s voice.
“Not anymore,” she said. She smiled her forgiveness when he apologized for waking her, and told him how glad she was to see him.
“Ol’ Mike said you were pretty well banged up. That knot on your head looks like a bowling ball.”
“Feels like one too.”
“You look like hell.”
“Thank you.”
“Well? How’d it happen?” he asked. “Where was Baker?”
“Baker wasn’t here.” She was fairly certain of that by now, and she wasn’t feeling up to an inquisition. “I fell, that’s all. It’s no big deal.”
“Baker? Not Elgin?” Tommy asked sagely. “Do I detect a bit of dissatisfaction with wonder boy?”
“Maybe,” she said, noncommittal. She tried to make it plain that she didn’t want to discuss Elgin, but Tommy didn’t take the hint.
“So, I guess you’re not in love and feeling wonderful anymore, huh?”
She shrugged and looked away. For the first time in her life, she resented Tommy’s friendly prying.
“Maybe it’s just as well,” he said, drawing his own conclusions. “He’ll be going back to Chicago, now that the Internal Affairs Department has cleared him.”
“What?” She took on a whole new interest in the conversation.
“Well, they couldn’t prove that Baker took any of Joey Hart’s money, and his record is clean. They didn’t have any choice, so they cleared him. You look surprised.”
“No,” she lied, not at all sure why she wasn’t telling Tommy the truth about Elgin. She knew she should and she had every intention of doing so. She needed more time to think. “Well, I am surprised, but only because they cleared him so quickly.”
Their talk eventually turned to Angie and the children and the score of the Yankees game she’d missed the day before, then he left her to go back to sleep.
The weatherman reported that it was their twelfth day in a row with temperatures above ninety-five degrees. He was an optimistic man, however, and was calling for rain later in the day.
By midafternoon Kelly felt she could reach out and touch the heat, it was so close and heavy. Her air conditioner was set on high, yet still her nightgown stuck to her damp, overheated skin.
The doctor had refused to give her anything stronger than aspirin for the pain in her head. Sleep seemed to be her only escape. And so the day went in a cycle of taking tepid baths to cool off, and sleep to ease the pain. She’d awaken hot, sweaty, and sticky, and take another bath.
Night fell, and she began to think perhaps the weatherman knew what he was talking about. The heat didn’t dissipate, but remained oppressive and overhanging. Still, something in the air was excited. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation. Occasionally a gust of sea wind passed across the land and disappeared, like a preview of what was to come.
Kelly was as moody and pensive as the weather. She was bored with inactivity. Her fingers fairly tingled with impatience and expectation. The pain in her head had lessened to a dull ache, and was tolerable so long as she didn’t make any sudden, jarring movements. As a matter of fact, she was feeling well enough to get a little stir-crazy cooped up in the apartment.
She had finally taken to wearing a teddy and a short cotton kimono to stay cool. She’d have gone naked if Bailey and her grandfather weren’t making regular visits to check on her. She was giving serious consideration to defrosting the refrigerator when she heard the apartment door open and close.
“I’m in the kitchen,” she called, thinking that one of her unlikely but diligent nurses had come to check on her. With her head in the refrigerator, she went on, “What do you think about getting rid of this old thing and getting one of those little compact jobs that’s self-defrosting? We only use it for ice, anyway.”
“Whatever you want is okay with me,” Elgin said from the doorway.
Startled, she turned to face him—a little too fast. She winced at the sharp pain that shot through her temple and down the side of her face.
“Dear God,” he exclaimed. When she opened her eyes and saw his frown of shock and alarm, she grimaced again.
“What happened to you?” he asked, aghast.
“I fell.”
“Off what? The roof?”
“Down the stairs,” she said simply. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk with you. Are you supposed to be out of bed? You look like hell.”
“You know,” she said, trying in vain to control her anger, “I really wish people would stop telling me that. I know I look like hell, I feel like hell. And I’d like to know what the hell you think we have to talk about?”
She wanted to talk to him, too, but she had emotions that needed to be vented first. Anger, fear, pain, disappointment, confusion, questions, and a lot of pent-up energy. She’d never felt more wretched in her life. Certainly not before Elgin had appeared on the scene, and therefore he was the most likely candidate to take the heat, so to speak.
“We can start with your face,” he said, not the least bit intimidated by her fury. “When did that happen?”
“Last night, after I paid the cabbie who was kind enough to bring me home, because you were too busy throwing away money that didn’t even belong to you.”
She slammed the refrigerator door and stalked across the room in a huff. Taking a belligerent stance, she waited for him to move aside and let her pass.
He took a close look at the swollen knot on her temple, then stood back. “So, you got that coming up here to go to bed. Did you fall all the way to th
e bottom of the stairs?”
“Yes and yes.”
“Then why isn’t that lump on the back of your head?”
“What?” she asked, looking at him as if he’d lost his mind.
“When you fall backward, you get lumps on the back of your head. You get lumps on the front of your head when you fall forward. You got that lump going face first down the steps.”
“I know what direction I was going in, Elgin,” she said peevishly, turning her back on his knowing gaze. She had the distinct feeling he already knew her fall was no accident, but she couldn’t tell if it was because he’d planned it or if he was an exceptional detective. “If all you’ve come here to tell me is that my bump’s in the wrong place, you can leave.”
“That’s not what I came to tell you,” he said, following her until he stood beside her in the middle of the living room. “I came to ask you why you didn’t tell Shaw that I took Hart’s money?”
“How do you know I didn’t?”
“Because when I went in to work this afternoon, he wanted to know what I’d done to make you angry. He didn’t even bother to tell me you’d been hurt. He only wanted to know why you weren’t happy with me anymore.”
“Maybe he didn’t think my accident was any of your business,” she said, lowering herself to the couch, out of the direct line of his all-seeing eyes. “We’re no longer dating, remember?”
“You’re evading my question, Kelly,” he said, sitting down, too, and continuing to study her like a bug under glass. “Why didn’t you tell your friend Tommy about the money?”
She turned her face away in self-disgust.
“I don’t know,” she muttered.
He was quiet for a moment, then in a soft, sure voice he said, “I know why.”
Kelly knew why, too, but she wasn’t going to say it. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing her say that she loved him; of knowing that even though she couldn’t abide what he’d done, she couldn’t bear to see him disgraced and imprisoned either. And so, she remained silent.
“You didn’t tell, because you love me,” he said.
“Of all the nerve,” she sputtered, standing. She looked down at him and saw in his eyes the challenge to deny his words. “All right. I’m a fool. I did love you. But now I think you’re scum. You’re a lousy cop, who steals from lousy drug dealers, who make their lousy money off poor, innocent kids. You make me sick. Why don’t you take your money, crawl back under the rock you came from, and leave me alone?”
Her chest heaved with anger. She had more to say, a lot more to say. But while she was catching her breath, he was pinching the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, and saying, “Damn it to hell, I knew it was going to be like this.”
“What? Did you think I’d be thrilled with Joey Hart’s money? Impressed, maybe, with what a great crook you are? I’m not the one who wants to own the Loop and live off the real estate income. All I want is an honest, decent man to love. Is that so much to ask for?”
“No,” he said, then he laughed. “That’s not too much to ask for. You deserve more.”
“You’re damned right I do. But I’d settle for that and be happy.”
He shook his head in wondrous disbelief. This time his laugh was a half-growl as he waved his fists in the air.
“I told them you wouldn’t play along,” he said. “A hundred times, I told them.”
“What? Who? What are you talking about?” she asked, annoyed by his cryptic behavior.
He sighed, then looked up at her in discouragement and defeat.
“Sit down, Kelly. We need to talk.”
Nine
“I DON’T WANT to sit,” she said, shifting her weight impatiently. “Say what you have to say, Elgin. My head’s starting to throb again.”
“Okay.” He stood and walked back to the kitchen, considering his best approach, then returned to her only after he’d decided to be direct. “It’s cooler outside. Would you like to get dressed and go out for a little while? Nothing too strenuous. Maybe take a couple chairs and sit on the sidewalk?”
“Who’s stalling now?” He looked like a brave little boy caught in a lie, hoping his punishment wouldn’t be too severe. She couldn’t help it, she felt sorry for him. “Is it really cooler outside?”
He nodded. “There’s a breeze.”
“Come on,” she said, and led him into her bedroom.
The room was dark, but he could see the two windows facing the next building. One was filled with an air conditioner, the other she ordered him to open. Age, heat, and disuse put a strain on the task, but he was so eager to please her, he’d have ripped it from the wall if she’d asked him to.
When the opening was big enough—as big as it was going to get anyway—he stepped aside. Wordlessly and with some misgivings about her head injury, he watched as she threw a blanket out the window and climbed onto the ledge.
“If it can hold three kids, it can hold two adults,” she said, motioning him to join her.
The window was recessed with an awning above it. Before the roof took a steep plunge downward, there was a level area the length of the window and about three feet wide. It was like a reverse window seat. Kelly had spread out the blanket and sat there looking very much like a queen on her mountain.
When he continued to hesitate, she said, “When I was little, on really hot nights like this, my mom used to let us sit out here after our baths—if we were very careful. She’d say that we could catch the wind better here, because it wouldn’t have to go around buildings and up and down the streets to find us. Sometimes she’d give us each a root beer and tell us stories.”
By the time she’d finished her reminiscence, Elgin was seated beside her, clutching his knees to make himself as small as possible.
“Now you tell me a story, Elgin,” she said, calmer and cooler than before, but still hurting and distrustful.
“I want to tell you first that I’m sorry I involved you in this,” he said in his deep voice, made soft by his sincerity. “And that I’m not a lousy cop and I didn’t take Joey Hart’s money.”
The only light they had came from the streetlights below, and the awning blocked most of it. He couldn’t see the expression on her face, but he knew that he had her attention when she turned her head to look at him.
He continued. “John Torricelli has been in the federal penitentiary for the last six months. I’m a special investigator for the state attorney general and Joey Hart is temporarily employed by the federal government,” he said in one breath. He lowered his head to his knees in relief and added, “There. I told you. I thought I wouldn’t get the chance.”
Kelly stared at him, too confused to speak. If what he said was true, it made even less sense than his being a crook.
“Why would the government employ a goon like Joey?” she asked, picking his most unbelievable statement to remark on. “What can he do besides sell drugs?”
“Act as cover for me.”
“Cover.”
He took a deep breath, knowing he was about to fight an uphill battle.
“In Chicago, I was a cop. I worked the streets for a few years, then I went to work as an investigator for the D.A.’s office. One thing sort of led to another, and pretty soon I was working for the state attorney general, on a special task force that was formed to detect and eliminate corruption in local police departments.”
“Internal Affairs.” She spoke as if the words left a bad taste in her mouth.
“Well, yes and no,” he said, aware of the reputation that branch of law enforcement had acquired. “Local I.A.D.s are supposed to keep their departments clean and honest, but it doesn’t always work that way. Sometimes the I.A.D. is as corrupt as the force it’s supposed to keep clean. Sometimes an I.A. man has strong suspicions, but can’t prove anything. Sometimes he has the proof, but can’t finger the rotten apple…or apples.”
“That’s where you come in.”
He nodded. “We act mostly on referrals from the loca
l departments. Sometimes from private citizens.” He shrugged. “If there’s a question, we look into it.”
“And there was a question here?”
“Yes.” This was it. The moment he’d been dreading. “It involved your friend Tommy Shaw,” he said with deep regret.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“No, it isn’t. He’s been under investigation locally for a couple of years now. Him, Del Rio, and six or seven others. They’re a team. They work together and it looks as if they’ve skimmed hundreds of thousands of dollars through extortion and illegal busts.”
“That’s crazy. A man moves his family into a nice house—a nice house, mind you, not a palace—he buys a couple of cars, and automatically he’s a cop on the take. I love it,” she said, sarcastic and still unpersuadable. “Of course, if that same cop gets shot and dies, then he’s a hero.”
“Then he’s a crooked cop who got shot,” he said. “And Shaw’s not stupid. Buying a palace would draw too much attention. They’ve all kept their purchases within the realm of possibility, stashing most of it away somewhere for retirement or kids’ educations or that extended vacation in Bora Bora that everyone wants to take. When you’re a thief, you don’t want to be conspicuous.”
“I don’t believe any of this, Elgin. I’ve known Tommy all my life and I’ve never known him to steal, or to do anything else illegal, for that matter. He knows the risks. He loves Angie and the kids too much to even try anything like that.”
“I’m not saying he doesn’t love his family,” Elgin said, understanding her loyalty. “He probably does, and that’s why he got involved in the first place. So he could give them the best of everything. It’s understandable, but it can’t be condoned.”
“Damn that Del Rio,” she muttered. “He’s the one who would get Tommy into trouble. If anyone’s a thief, it’s him. Tommy only looks guilty by association.” She turned to Elgin. “You’d know that if you knew them better. Tommy might know about it, but he couldn’t tell on his partner or he’d never be trusted again by the other cops. There must be some way to separate the two and prove that Tommy isn’t a part of it. Set a trap, maybe?”
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