Bone Dus

by Bette Golden Lamb

  Well, not me, man.

  Russell saw right through the Inspector. The man had him sit in that room to make him jittery. Well, it didn’t happen. And he’d made a point of staring that cop right in the eye.

  Standoff, man. Big fuckin’ standoff.

  * * *

  At the hospital the next morning, Russell drove into the employee parking section of the garage and tried to go by where he’d finished off Jenni. He couldn’t get near the spot, though, because it was still cordoned off by police tape. He circled around and found a parking place on the other side of the garage.

  When the elevator got to his floor, he saw right away that conditions in the lab were just as bad as they’d been the day before. People were crawling out of the woodwork, waiting to have their blood drawn.

  Controlled chaos. Barely.

  It was all good ... for him. Ridgewood lab was his safe zone. The only place in the world he could slip in and out of unnoticed. Here he could blend in, appear to be like any of the other staff. He was as invisible as the walls.

  He took a fresh lab coat from the stash in the back room. He still had his old lab coat, the one with a few blood smears on the inside from when he covered his nakedness after killing Jenni.

  He’d stowed it under the back seat of the truck until he had more time to get rid of that one, too.

  Thinking about the lab coat and Jenni put a damper on the elation he’d felt earlier with the Inspector. He was slipping back into the weak little Russell that he usually was.

  Rod was waiting for him as he walked into the blood drawing section.

  “Boy, am I glad to see you.”

  Russell nodded.

  “Maybe you could help us out down here for a while and then pop upstairs to Internal Medicine. I have a whole block of lab tests ordered and you’re the best blood man we have.”

  The manager was trying to butter him up for something. He knew Rod didn’t even like him, and the feeling was mutual.

  “I may have to ask you to put in some overtime. I’ve never seen anything like this. We’ve been swamped the past twenty-four hours. I would really help us out.”

  “No problem, Rod.”

  * * *

  By the time Russell got up to the Internal Medicine unit it was after 9:00.

  The hospital was still mobbed and there was no sign it was going to let up. The unit was the focal point of the frenzy, with staff and patients filling the rooms and hallways.

  He was getting tired by the time he walked in to take the final blood draws from Lena Dobbs and her father. He’d saved them for last.

  The girl was sleeping peacefully. It looked like she was going to make it unless something unusual hit her and caused a relapse.

  Aaron Dobbs, however, was on his back, moaning in his sleep. A light positioned against the back wall gave off a dim glow. Russell could see a sheen of sweat coating Dobbs’ face.

  Russell set his tray on the food stand and lifted a covering towel from atop all the vials, tubes, syringes, and other equipment he used in his rounds.

  The noise from staff and patients moving up and down the corridor was muffled by the closed door.

  He looked at the array of bags attached to Aaron Dobbs’ IV. This man was sick, totally wasted. They were pumping him with everything they had to turn him around.

  Well, I’ll save them the trouble.

  Looking at the man energized Russell. He would do something good ... release this man from his pain ... finish what he’d left undone yesterday.

  Suffer no more, Mr. Dobbs.

  Russell wrapped a tourniquet around Dobbs’ arm, took an alcohol sponge and thoroughly wiped the arm.

  First things first, no matter what.

  After he set an 18-gauge needle in Dobbs’ arm, he drew and filled the ordered blood samples into their specific tubes.

  He placed the filled tubes into the tray, then selected a large syringe and attached it to the needle.

  In a moment he would suck off more blood and collect it in an emesis basin. Just enough to further weaken Dobbs. In his condition, it wouldn’t take long for him to die.

  “What are you doing to my father?” Lena Dobbs demanded. Her voice cut through his focus. When he looked up, her piercing eyes were searching for an answer.

  “I’m collecting blood for, uh, several tests the doctor ordered.” He forced a smile.

  As he spoke, he put the syringe back into his tray and set the emesis basin back on the stand. He pulled the needle from Dobbs’ arm and shoved it into a small sharps container. He held up the tubes for her to see.

  Lena appeared to relax somewhat even though there was still suspicion in her eyes.

  “I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

  “Where are the nurses?” she asked. “I haven’t seen one for hours.”

  He picked up his equipment and started for the door. “I’ll let them know you asked.”

  He felt her eyes on his back as he walked out.

  Chapter 40

  Dominick was digging in some old broad’s Tucson garden. It was in one of those places where two people were living in a big expensive house with handicap walkways. Pretty much like every other one on the block.

  The sun already hot early in the morning and he was sweating his brains out. Every time he tried to push the shovel through the hard pack, his ribs would make him want to scream out. But that was the last thing he would do with his macho Mex friends working beside him.

  Friends. Yeah, sure. The only compadre he had in this crew was José. Didn’t even trust that hombre, but he seemed to want to help Dominick when the others in the crew didn’t give a shit.

  It pissed him off that after the accident, he’d had to live off of his stash of money, which was supposed to be for his trip back to San Francisco. Now that wasn’t going to happen for a long time.

  The upside? He had accidentally found Gina’s boyfriend. It may not be first prize, but it was a close second.

  He’d lie awake in bed at night and try to figure out his life. He got it, knew why he was always angry – losing out on getting into the Yankees was plenty of reason.

  But it bothered him that he’d hurt that shill in Frisco. He still didn’t know whether she was alive or dead; it felt wrong that he might have killed her. She hadn’t deserved that. She was only trying to earn a buck, like everyone else.

  Okay. So he had a bad temper; he knew that. But people couldn’t seem to stop ticking him off, and he wasn’t about to let himself be a patsy.

  But was he really such a bad guy?

  When he was high on Vicodin, he would admit to himself that he’d deserved to go to jail for hurting Gina.

  Those nights left him feeling low. Confused.

  A sharp pain pierced his chest as his shovel hit a rock.

  Damn! He’d been clean for a few days but he was gonna have to take a Vicodin. The hell with José, who seemed to think Dominick couldn’t work while taking drugs. He stopped and reached for his water jug.

  With his back away from José, he slipped a pill from his pocket, slipped it into his mouth, and took a long slug of water. It wouldn’t get rid of all the pain, but it would help.

  “How’s it going, man?” José said from behind him

  The guy’s like a shadow. He moves from one place to another like the wind.

  “It’s fuckin’ tough, if you must know.”

  “It’s your first day back,” José said. “Did you think it was going to be a breeze?”

  “I don’t like hurting.” He looked José square in the eye. “It makes me want to put my fist into someone’s mouth.”

  “A fist is one thing. A gun is another,” José said. “When are you gonna stop carrying that thing around with you?”

  “When hell freezes over.”

  José gave him the finger but Dominick ignored him. “Look, we’ve only got another hour,” he said. “What say we go get a beer together, compadre?”

  “I think I’m ready now.”

  “
Hey, don’t think I didn’t catch you flipping that pill down your throat. Remember, I said no drugs.”

  “Just aspirin, you dick. What’s wrong with that?”

  José gave him that smirky smile that was supposed to let Dominick know he wasn’t putting anything over on him. The dork was right. He did feel a lot stronger without taking the drugs. Not so weak and confused. Maybe the dude knew what he was talking about.

  “Finish up planting that cactus,” José said. “And don’t forget to get all the way through that layer of caliche.”

  * * *

  Dominick sat in the passenger seat of José’s truck, outside El Peso, their usual bar. He didn’t want to get out; he was feeling down. Way down.

  Taking the drugs didn’t make him high anymore. Just the opposite. They made him feel bad. Bad about lying to his mother, taking her money. Bad about running away when he could have stayed in New York, been with his family, and not have to lie his way through every day.

  Gina used to tell him to think about things. Stop jumping into everything. He hated when she said that.

  “Come on, man,” José said. “Let’s go in and get a drink.”

  “I’m not ready.”

  José got out of the truck, opened the passenger door, and yanked at Dominick’s arm. “Now or never.”

  Dominick slid out of the truck and the two of them walked into the bar.

  “Well, look who’s here. Dumb and dumber,” the bartender called out.

  “Shove it up your ass,” José said, laughing.

  Dominick was silent.

  One of the barstool-sitters yelled, “Snake, and I do mean snake, got your tongue ... usually can’t shut that one up.”

  “Leave him alone,” José said. “First day back at work ... just wonked out.” To the bartender he said, “Give us a couple of drafts.”

  As soon as the beer hit the counter, Dominick snapped it up and swallowed it down without stopping.

  “Hey, man, slow down. We’ve got the whole evening ahead of us. Pace yourself.” José slapped him on the back and then sipped at his beer.

  A couple of Latina women sitting at the far end of the counter were staring at the two of them. In a few minutes they were up and moving in their direction.

  “Tell them to get lost,” Dominick said to José,

  “What’s wrong with you anyway? Since when haven’t you been interested in pussy?”

  “Just not with it tonight.”

  “Get my man here a shot of tequila,” José said to the bartender. “And let’s get a pitcher of beer to go with it.” He punched Dominick’s arm. “Get with it, man.”

  * * *

  They’d been sitting and drinking for hours. It was plain as day that José was going home with one of the women.

  Dominick took hold of José’s arm. “How about I borrow your truck, man? I need some alone time.” He pointed at the woman hanging on José’s arm. “She can get you where you want to go.”

  José looked at him as though he was a bug that just landed from Mars, but he nodded and held out the keys.

  “You better pick me up in the morning, mi borracho amigo. If I don’t get to the job on time in the morning, you and I are término. ¿Si?”

  “¡Si!¡ Si! I got it!” Dominick said, snatching the keys.

  * * *

  Dominick was loaded, really loaded. Every time he opened his eyes the whole world was spinning.

  He kept dosing on and off as he sat at the curb in front of the hospital. The seat of Jose’s pickup was hard as a rock and he was about as uncomfortable as anyone could get.

  Shit! Don’t these fuckin’ wetbacks drive anything newer than a twenty-year-old heap?

  He laughed to himself as he remembered José’s reaction to a turndown to go to bed with a pickup at the bar.

  Dominick couldn’t get it into the Mex’s thick skull that he was still in pain from his accident. Screwing didn’t have the appeal that it usually did. His neck was still stiff and his ribs never seemed to stop hurting. Fucking a woman wasn’t going to make things better. Probably worse.

  What a dumb ass sitting here waiting for Gina’s man. He could have come and gone and I’d still be sitting here like a boob. Well, the hours are right and I haven’t got anything else to do. What the hell?

  He shifted in the seat and pulled another Vicodin from his pocket and tossed it down his throat.

  Even without José here at his side to nag him, he’d become reluctant to take the stuff. He didn’t like the way it was making him feel lately.

  But what about the pain?

  * * *

  The ICU was hopping and when Harry offered to go back to work a day earlier than scheduled, they practically snapped him up before he could get the words out of his mouth.

  He was waiting for Abby outside the hospital at the end of the shift. It had been a good move to go back to work. It helped take his mind off of Gina.

  He sat on the stoop outside the hospital and thought about Gina.

  Can I ever stop thinking about her, wondering who she’s with, what’s she’s doing?

  He looked up and noticed an old pickup sitting at the curb. There was a man in the driver’s seat and it looked like he was sitting and staring in his direction. But it was dark, the hospital lights weren’t hitting him.

  Harry couldn’t be sure. Still, it made him uneasy.

  Just then, Abby walked out. “Hi, Harry. How did it feel to be back? I’ve got to say you’re a glutton for punishment. If it were me, I wouldn’t have agreed to sign in one minute before I was scheduled.”

  Abby looked at him shyly, but things seemed to be all right between them.

  Harry pointed to the Porsche. “Want to hop over to that Mexican restaurant we went to last week?”

  “Sure thing. I’m starving.”

  * * *

  Voices drifted Dominick’s way and he had to force his eyes open. There he was. Whoa! Gina’s boyfriend was with another woman.

  Ha! Ask me, she’s cuter than Gina.

  He watched the two of them walk over to the hottest car he’d seen in a long time. At least the man seemed to have good taste in cars and women.

  They drove off, top down.

  He started the pickup, but it complained, as usual, and he watched that Lucke fellow zip away.

  Man, that baby could really move. In the blink of an eye it was only tail lights in the distance.

  Damn! By the time he hit the road, Dominick couldn’t see the nurse’s car at all.

  He kept going, hoping to spot the Porsche, and sure enough, he was about to pass a small strip mall when he saw the fancy car parked in front of a Mexican restaurant. It had to be the nurse, there weren’t too many of those foreign critters on the road down here.

  He pulled into a sandy area of weeds alongside the building.

  Thought you got away, didn’t you!

  Dominick reached into the glove box where he’d stashed the gun, shoved it into his back waistband, under his shirt. He stepped out of the truck and walked to the front of the restaurant. A small sign on the window said: “Takeouts our specialty.”

  He went through the door, took a quick look around, and spotted that Lucke nurse with the woman sitting at a table in the back. He couldn’t see her face, but Harry Lucke looked wasted.

  One of the waiters approached Dominick. “What can I get for you, Señor?”

  He grabbed a copy of their menu from a table in a tiny, two-chair space where people who ordered take-out could wait.

  “How about two chicken tacos to go. And put plenty of salsa packages in the bag.”

  “Si, Señor. You can sit here while you wait.” The man pointed to the seats.

  “Nah. Too hungry to just sit around.”

  He stood at the tiny reception spot and watched Gina’s boyfriend.

  Man, this is funny. The dude is cheating on Gina.

  Hell, don’t matter to me. He’s going down.

  Dominick turned away and decided to sit in one of the ch
airs. The only reason he’s picked Arizona was to be close enough to hop back to Frisco and do Gina in. But right here in Arizona, second best was going to feel pretty damn good.

  It took less than ten minutes before the waiter was back with his take-out bag of tacos. “For you, Señor.”

  “Yeah.” Dominick took the bag, checked the tab, and pulled some grubby bills from his jeans’ pocket to pay the man.

  “Come back again, señor.”

  Dominick nodded, went out the door, and stumbled his way next door to a package store and bought a couple of Negra Modelo cervezas.

  Back in the cab of the uncomfortable truck, he settled in to eat his tacos, drink the beer, and wait for Gina’s pretty boy to come out of the restaurant.

  * * *

  “I never thought she’d end it.”

  “Harry, you should have seen it coming.” He watched Abby shift in her seat. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so blunt, but you must have known.”

  He looked at her, thought she’d been a godsend since coming to Tucson. Without her, he would have been all alone and all of this would have hit him even harder.

  For the hundredth time, he wondered why he couldn’t forget about Gina and love someone far less complicated.

  “Gina is very independent, and I’ve tried to respect that. I admire her resilience and I hoped things would work out.”

  “Whatever it is you’ve done, or tried to do, it hasn’t worked.”

  “I guess I was pretty naïve. I thought if I loved her enough, she would forget about her ex-husband. Forget his threats; forget the pain he caused her.”

  Abby nodded, remained silent.

  “But she can’t seem to walk away from her fears; and if she doesn’t do it soon, it’s never going to happen. Right now, she’s not moving, one way or the other—”

  “—Not much of a secret about how I feel about you, Harry.”

  Abby took a forkful of her enchilada. She chewed slowly. “I need to know if there’s a chance for us. A chance you might care for me.”

  Harry looked at her for a long moment. “You’re a great gal, Abby, but I can’t honestly promise you anything. Not even a maybe. I love Gina and I can’t say when or if that will ever stop.”