Bone Dus

by Bette Golden Lamb

  Abby put down her fork. “We can be friends ... maybe things will change.”

  “Maybe. But I hope you realize ... maybe they won’t.”

  “I’ve been looking forward to eating Mexican all day,” she said, ignoring his last comment. “Let’s at least enjoy what’s in front of us.”

  He could tell she was forcing a bright smile

  * * *

  When they walked out of the restaurant, Harry noticed the pickup at the side of the building.

  “Didn’t we see that same truck earlier?”

  “I don’t remember it,” Abby said.

  “I do. It was parked at the curb when we left the hospital. I’m going to check it out, talk to the guy who’s driving. I don’t like being followed.”

  “Leave it alone, Harry.”

  “Can’t do that.” He walked up to the truck and looked in the driver’s window.

  The outside lights from the restaurant barely illuminated the interior of the truck. A man was asleep, a limp taco in one hand, the steering wheel gripped with the other.

  Harry looked at the face for a long moment before turning around. He and Abby climbed back into the Porsche and took off.

  Chapter 41

  Gina was caught up in the same vortex of nonstop flu treatments that she assumed was affecting every health professional in the city. It was an epidemic and it was exhausting.

  The media was now questioning the CDC, especially now that they’d stepped forward and called it what it was: a guessing game that failed and failed badly. They chose the wrong vaccine mix for this virulent strain of influenza and were now faced with a severe public health crisis.

  Poor Jenni.

  She’d always been the first to point a finger at the CDC. She couldn’t be dissuaded that they weren’t in bed with Big Pharma, and that most viral infections were born out of efforts to create new biologics, not necessarily for the health of the public. And then there’s the question of military germ warfare.

  Those damn bugs get out of hand and escape, then innocent people around the globe pay the price.

  Gina had laughed at Jenni’s paranoia, but with everyone becoming ill, maybe her theory wasn’t so far out.

  Gina went down to the employee garage to meet Helen, who had brought her to work and had also put in several hours of overtime.

  “How’s Vinnie doing?” Gene asked.

  “Thank God your brother is as strong as an ox.”

  “It’s those Bronx microbes; they not only help you build character, they give you a fighting immune system. Sink or swim for us.”

  “He’s still not one hundred percent, but he’s out of the woods.” Helen laughed. “And my God, what a terrible patient he is.”

  They’d just gotten in Helen’s Prius when Gina grabbed her arm. “Look, there’s Russell Thorpe getting into his truck. Let’s follow him.”

  “What, are you crazy? Didn’t you tell me he’s a nut?”

  “He killed Jenni. I know it.”

  “And you want me to follow him? I must be totally demented to hang out with Vinnie and you.”

  “I think it just shows what good taste you have.”

  “Maybe good taste, but not a sound mind.”

  Gina pointed. “He’s leaving. Follow him!”

  Helen drove out of the garage, practically on Russell’s tail. Gina scooted down in the seat so he wouldn’t see her if he looked in his rear view mirror. Traffic near the hospital was terrible, but as they moved away, the streets were less crowded.

  “Don’t stay so close! He’ll see us.”

  “This is crazy, Gina.” Helen slowed a little.

  “Maybe ... but I want to see where he’s going.”

  They had been following him for about five minutes when he turned into a side street.

  “Looks like the dear boy is going into the mortuary.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I lost a friend last year. All the parking was taken for the memorial and someone told me about parking back here.”

  “Maybe we ought play it safe and pull up at the curb outside,” Gina said. “That way we can get away if we have to without being trapped.”

  “Now that makes sense.” Helen parked the car on the street near the alley entrance. They used a building for cover and watched Russell head for a large garbage bin. He was carrying a bundle in one hand and when he looked around they pulled their heads back before he spotted them.

  “Let’s get back to the car.” Gina pulled on Helen’s arm and they sprinted to the Prius, scooted down in their seats, and waited for Russell to drive out of the alley.

  “Wonder what he stashed in that can?” Gina said. She peeked over the dash and watched until Russell’s truck was out of sight. “Let’s go look.”

  “Are you kidding me? I don’t like to get too close to those places.” Helen gave her a squinched face look. “They might carry me inside and start draining all my vital fluids.”

  But Gina was out the door. “Come on.”

  They hurried down past a hearse with a flat tire. Gina got to the garbage can first, flung it open, and pulled out a bunched- up lab coat. “Now let’s see what our lab rat has been up to.”

  Chapter 42

  Russell circled his home work table, bones scattered across its smooth surface. He was trying to calm himself.

  He went to the kitchen sink and gulped down a glass of water. He couldn’t stop thinking about that damn Gina Mazzio, and that other nurse. He didn’t know her name, but he’d seen her around the hospital.

  They were following me in that red Prius.

  Thought they were so smart; thought I wouldn’t see them.

  Well, I saw them all right.

  When he’d put the soiled lab coat in the garbage bin at the back of the mortuary, he made sure it was thoroughly smeared with other trash. No way were they going to get any of his DNA from that coat.

  Nice try you two, but try harder next time ... if I let you have a next time.

  Need to focus. Think, be extra careful or I’m going to get nailed by that Inspector. He’ll be back to question me again. Sure as shit.

  Stupid! Should have left Jenni alone, or at least waited. Waiting would have been the smart thing to do.

  Couldn’t help it. Saw her going to that Fiat in the hospital garage and there was no stopping me.

  Had to do it.

  No one treats me that way, or calls me Russ and gets away with it.

  Only his mother ever got away with using that nickname; called him Russie whenever she wanted him out of the way, or needed him to go to the store for her.

  Always wanting me to do things for her ... things I never wanted to do. Had to leave the apartment when she had some sucker over... some shit who would buy her whiskey just to get into her pants.

  That’s when he started cutting himself. Seeing the blood made him feel like he was powerful ... in charge.

  Dad Todd caught me and from then on I did it with him, It felt even better.

  He walked into bathroom and took the jackknife from his pocket, the one he was never without. He stripped off his clothes and remembered how it felt to slash Jenni’s throat. Still a perfect picture of it in his mind.

  The look on her face as she tried to pull his fingers from her throat.

  The slash.

  Her trying to make it stop. Wild panic in her eyes when it kept flowing.

  The thick smear of it all over her face and neck.

  He soared as he watched the bitch’s life dribble away.

  “No.”

  The very last word she said to him, to anyone.

  Anyone!

  It was like a museum painting. A perfect picture in red.

  He opened the razor-sharp knife, the same one he’d used on Jenni. He picked an uncut virgin spot on his upper arm.

  Sliced.

  A deep sigh held back a grunt of pain and he smiled at the beads of burgundy. He separated the skin and watched while it became a full stripe of blood.
<
br />   A rush of pleasure filled his groin.

  He could breathe again.

  Chapter 43

  “Shhhh!” Helen cautioned as she and Gina entered the apartment. “Vinnie may be napping.”

  While they were in the kitchen fixing a drink, Vinnie came in looking like the living dead, feet scuffling across the floor.

  Gina looked at her baby brother and although he seemed better, he was still no poster child for the benefits of healthy living.

  “Not feeling too great, yet, I see,” she said.

  “Just so you know,” Vinnie said, “you look pretty run down yourself.”

  “I haven’t really been feeling well, but I’m hoping it’s just allergies and not this lousy flu bug that’s dragging everyone down.

  He collapsed onto a kitchen chair. “I can’t remember ever being hit this hard by a bug.”

  Helen handed him a glass filled with V8 juice; he wrapped the fingers of one hand around the glass and took a few sips.

  “So it’s over with Harry, huh?” Vinnie said.

  “I don’t want to talk about Harry. I came to see you and how you’re doing. I’m not here to get the third degree.”

  “Now both of you cut it out. No fighting,” Helen said. “One of these days the two of you are going to have a grown-up conversation, maybe even more than one.” She set a cup of tea in front of Gina.

  Vinnie pushed himself out of the chair and sidled up to Gina, wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You okay?”

  Gina turned and looked into his red-rimmed eyes. “Not really. I miss him. A lot!”

  “I think he’d come back if you asked.” He squeezed her to him. “Why don’t you?”

  “I can’t keep doing this to him, Vinnie. He needs to have a real life, not the one where he’s in constant danger.” Tears rolled over her cheeks. “It’s not fair.”

  “Dear girl,” Helen said, “don’t you think he can make up his own mind? For heaven’s sake, if you want to be with him, call him.”

  “Sorry, I’m going to go lay down on the sofa,” Vinnie said. “Can’t keep my eyes open.”

  Gina stood, took his arm and walked him back to the living room. She helped him down onto the sofa.

  “Now you’re spoiling him,” Helen said. “Spoiled enough already. Nothing but a big baby.” But when Helen smiled at him, there was nothing but love in her eyes.

  When they were back in the kitchen, Helen said, “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

  “No,” Gina said. “I need you to give me a lift home, where I can take a long shower, then pack up Jenni’s things. Her parents are coming out tomorrow and I want to have everything ready.”

  Those poor people,” Helen whispered. “Bad enough to lose a child, but having her throat slashed open ... imagine finding out your daughter had her throat slit.”

  “I know that bastard was after me, not her.”

  “Gina! Stop that!”

  “He was waiting at my car. That’s how he got her.”

  * * *

  Gina had just finished packing up Jenni’s belongings when the Webbs arrived. The mother looked like an older rendition of her daughter and the father looked like he could be a brother to Colin Firth. He even had a slight English accent.

  “Please come in,” Gina said at the doorway.

  “We can only stay a moment,” Mrs. Webb said. “We have a plane to catch.”

  Gina could tell they wanted to get all of the loose details over and done with, but the sadness in both of their faces made Gina’s stomach clench.

  “Please sit down. I’ll made some tea.” Before they could turn her down, she brought in a tray filled with cups and a plate of chocolate cookies.

  Jenni’s parents looked at each other only a moment before moving to sit on the sofa.

  Gina filled their cups from a ceramic pot. The father reached for the sugar, but didn’t offer any to his wife. They sat holding their cups; each had propped a cookie on the edge of the saucer.

  “I would like you to know how much I really liked Jenni. She was great nurse and a very good friend.”

  “How long did you work with our girl?” the mother asked.

  “Mainly, in the last year since I began working in Internal Medicine,” Gina said and took a sip from her cup. “She was a lot of fun to be with, but more than, that she was wonderful with patients.”

  “She must have known she was in danger,” Mr. Webb blurted. “Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been staying with you.”

  “It’s true. Jenni was worried.”

  “Well, what are they doing to nab that killer?” Mrs. Webb said, her voice catching. “My God, someone slit her throat open.” She slammed her cup and saucer down onto the coffee table, her hands shaking so hard she had to fold them into each other.

  Her husband rubbed her back and tried to comfort her, but she was beyond consolation. He said, “I can’t stop thinking about her last moments. What that must have been like for her.”

  Gina could barely catch her breath. She couldn’t imagine losing a child, and with such violence.

  “Inspector Mulzini is a really good investigator. If anyone can catch this killer, he can.”

  Jenni’s mother reached out and took Gina’s hand in hers.

  “Promise me you will call us when they’ve put this monster in jail.” She squeezed Gina’s hand hard. “I want to look him in the eye.”

  * * *

  “Oh, my God, Inspector. I’m so glad you called. I’ve just spent time with Jenni’s parents this morning.” Gina clutched her cell, wanting to scream. “They’re in such pain.”

  “Parent shouldn’t have to outlive their children.”

  “What about the lab coat? Tell me you found something. Anything at all that might help tell you who did this?”

  “It was a nice try, Gina,” Mulzini said softly. “But it looks like it may be too contaminated to give us useable information. There’s also a problem with you bringing it in rather having someone official. All we have is circumstantial. Why did he dump it there? Why did he go there?”

  “So there’s nothing?” she said.

  “’Fraid nothing that’s going to help us.”

  “I can’t stand the thought of that bastard getting away with killing Jenni.

  Chapter 44

  Helen placed a glass of orange juice on the side table next to the bed, then stood staring down at Vinnie as he slept.

  Such a different person when he’s at peace with the world.

  His beautiful long lashes seemed to sweep across his upper cheekbones, making her wish for the thousandth time that they were hers.

  Just like Gina’s.

  It was still strange how from the moment she saw him, there was no room in her heart for any other man. She’d asked herself many times, how that was even possible?

  But she never doubted that Vinnie would always be the love of her life.

  She sighed in relief. His hands were unclenched, and a small drop of drool was trailing down his chin, a testimony to his complete relaxation.

  After a year of treatment following his return from Afghanistan, Vinnie was finally spending most nights at peace instead of waking her with shrieks of terror that made her heart race and her body shake in panic.

  In those terrible moments, she wondered if PTSD ever really went away. Loud noises still made him jump and he never stopped talking about the men and women left in Afghanistan.

  But he was slowly returning from a bottomless pit of despair.

  Although guilt still plagued him, he told her most of the people in his recovery group suffered in the same way.

  Sometimes in the middle of reading a book, one that had nothing to do with war, he would stop and cry. Anything could spark the memories of all the pain. And, yes, no matter how many times she asked the question, hoping for a different answer, she knew this would be with him forever.

  His being alive came with a price.

  In the past year, she’d grown to love him with all her hear
t. He might be damaged, but like his sister, he was kind and caring, wanting to make others feel safe, no matter how he felt.

  “How many times have I told you to stop doing that?” Vinnie said, opening his eyes.

  “What?”

  He laughed. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Watching me sleep.”

  She dived into the bed and cuddled up to him. “I could watch you any time or place ... and I’ll never stop.”

  He opened the covers and pulled her underneath. “M-m-m, you’re definitely feeling better,” she said.

  “I am. And having you home makes everything just right.”

  “How are you really feeling?” Helen sat up and tucked the covers tight up around his neck.

  “Still very weak, but I’ve been getting up and wandering around the apartment on and off. I only fell on my head once.”

  “Ha, ha! Not funny.” Helen reached for his juice on the bedside table.

  “I’m so full of juice it’s going to start leaking from my pores.”

  “That’s not all you’re full of, dear boy.”

  “Now who’s being funny?”

  Helen knew she had to tell Vinnie about Jenni, especially now that he was better. He would resent not knowing.

  “Jenni Webb is dead.”

  The glass almost slipped through his fingers. Helen grabbed onto it and set it back on the table.

  “What happened?”

  She took hold of his hand and squeezed tight. “She was murdered.”

  “Murdered? In Gina’s apartment?” He started to lift up out of the bed, but she held him back.

  “No, no. In the hospital garage after work.” Helen’s throat was so tight she could barely speak.

  “How did it happen?”

  She grimaced and turned her face away. “Her throat was slit.”

  He was silent for a long time. He finally wrapped his arms around her and held her so tightly she could barely breathe.

  He whispered in her ear. “How’s my sister doing?”

  “It’s hard on her, but she’s determined to prove it was Russell Thorpe who killed her.”