The Devil's in My Bathroom
Page 62
CHAPTER SIXTY: The Rolls Royce
Debbie opened her eyes after a few minutes of rest to reveal a semi-dark, spinning room. She felt an arm caressing her stomach. She slowly turned her head and saw Chaz.
“What in the hell are you doing in my bed?” she screamed.
“I’m sorry. You were too drunk to drive home so I brought you here myself,” said the apologetic Chaz.
“So you took the liberty of climbing in bed with me?”
“It’s no big deal. Look at us. All of our clothes are still on. I was just too exhausted to drive home so I decided to catch a few Z’s here.”
“Get your ass out of my home,” screamed Debbie.
“So much for gratitude,” said Chaz. Debbie stumbled as she tried to go to her bathroom. Chaz picked her off the floor.
“Are you still here?” asked Debbie. “What the hell time is it?”
“It’s just after ten o’clock,” said Chaz. “You don’t look so good.”
“Well, for your information, I don’t feel so good either. It’s all Tony’s fault.”
“Who’s Tony?”
“My asshole ex-boyfriend. Why is he doing this to me?”
“What’s he doing?”
“He’s driving me crazy. I’m going to his house right now and let him know. I can’t stand this anymore.” She staggered to her front door.
“You’re not going anywhere, Debbie.” Chaz grabbed her arm.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She pulled away from the grip and slapped Chaz in the face.
“I’m not going to let you drive anywhere in your condition,” Chaz said, as he rubbed the handprint Debbie just left on his cheek.
“Okay, you drive me.”
“Where?”
“To Tony’s house. I’ll show you the way.”
“I don’t know if I want to get involved in that kind of mess and you’re kind of crazy,” said Chaz
“You already are and I probably am. Let’s go.”
Against his better judgment, Chaz led Debbie to his car and drove her to Tony’s apartment.
Jamie was searching her own apartment for the source of the mysterious voice she thought she heard. She was getting dressed to go to Nick’s apartment. She had to explain to him what was going on since her undercover work was now in jeopardy.
Dave Peltier was driving to Wainwright’s mansion. If his calculations were correct, he would soon be the proud owner of the gorgeous estate. He wanted to get a good look at it.
As fire trucks arrived at the scene of the fires, Wilcox and Officer Phipps surveyed the scene. First, they found the charred bodies of Carlos Verona, Harold Rogers, Frankie Deville, and Jamie Dumbrowski. Then, they made their way down the creek to the smoldering Jaguar. There was no body pinned underneath.
“I wonder what happened to Bell?” asked Wilcox. They climbed out the creek and walked towards the road. About fifty feet away from them, across the street in the bushes, was Gary Bell. He reached in his pocket with his arm – one of the few parts of his body that he could move – and pulled out a gun.
Dave was racing through the site as Bell pulled the trigger – expecting to shoot either Wilcox or Phipps. The bullet hit the front driver’s side tire and blew it out. Dave lost control as the car hit the bridge and flipped over on top of Bell’s Jaguar in the creek.
The bewildered Wilcox ran down to discover Dave Peltier’s smashed body. The pulling of the trigger was also Bell’s last gasp. Phipps had followed the noise of the gun, found Gary Bell, and kicked the gun out of his lifeless hand.
“I got a dead shooter here,” screamed Phipps.
“This one isn’t any better,” Wilcox yelled from the bottom of the creek. He reached into Dave’s coat pocket and pulled out his wallet. His foot got wedged between a rock and a tree root.
“Hey, Phipps. Can you lend me a hand? I’m stuck.” Phipps made his way down to help Wilcox out of his jam. Just as they got the foot free, they looked up at the bridge and saw a tall, feminine silhouette, standing next to a Rolls Royce. She seemed to be staring at them. As they climbed out of the creek, the figure jumped into the car and it sped away.
Wilcox yelled at one of the firemen, “Did you just see that Rolls Royce drive away?”
“Sorry, I’m too busy trying to put out this blaze to be searching for exotic luxury cars,” the fireman blurted out.
“Smart-ass,” said Wilcox, under his breath.
“Is this city always this crazy?” asked Phipps. Wilcox looked into Carlos’ limo, and then glanced in the creek at the Jaguar with the Volvo on top. He looked at Bell’s body. He wondered about the shadowy figure he just saw.
“Not usually,” muttered Wilcox.
Kristi walked up to Bell’s body and pulled an envelope from his jacket. She handed it to Wilcox.
“You might want this,” she said. “It’s the deed to the mansion and papers giving him fifty-one percent ownership of Verona Enterprises.”
“You knew about all this?” asked Wilcox. Kristi smiled, grabbed his arm, and gave him a little kiss on the cheek.
“Let’s talk about that book. Maybe you and I can add another chapter,” she said, in the most seductive way. Wilcox smiled as he glanced at Phipps. “Like I said, it looks like you got a live one there,” said Officer Phipps.