Down and Dirty (Mercy Watts Mysteries Book 9)

by A W Hartoin

  We got in the elevator and three other people passed so we rode alone.

  “Sorry about your truck,” said Fats. “I know a guy.”

  “Does he break legs because I could be talked into that,” I said.

  Fats crossed her arms. “I don’t think you could.”

  “Try me after we find out who did it.” I walked off the elevator to find Aunt Miriam standing in the hall. “Son of a…sea biscuit. What are you doing here?”

  “Fred took a turn,” she said. “I’ve been here all night.”

  It took me a second. “Oh, the kidney patient. Did he reject it?”

  “No. Aggressive bacterial infection. Lungs filled up and he’s back on the vent.”

  Suddenly, my day was cake in comparison. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

  “Pray. Can you do that?”

  Yes didn’t seem like quite the answer she was looking for, but that’s where I left it.

  She eyed me, her blue eyes red-rimmed and extra critical. “You tricked me into going to church so you could dump me. I might be old, but I am not a fool, Mercy.”

  “Nobody thinks you’re a fool. Least of all me.”

  “Glad to hear it. Do you want in the ICU?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Were you waiting for me?”

  “Carolina called. She said you’ve had a bad morning and I see that you have.” Aunt Miriam swiped herself in, presumably with Fred’s family’s card, and marched in. “Takira, she’s back.”

  Takira leaned over the counter, waited until Aunt Miriam passed by, and then whispered, “Please tell me you’re taking her away.”

  “What’d she do?” I asked.

  “Put it this way, Fred’s hospice nurse said he didn’t need her.”

  “She’s on top of it then.”

  “On top? That aunt of yours is so on top I can barely see the patient,” said Takira. “If she’d been in the OR the infection wouldn’t have happened. It would’ve been too scared to try.”

  “I know what you mean. How’s Catherine?” I asked.

  “In pain. She’s down in CT to see if we’ve got some internal bleeding. Her father’s with her.”

  “What about Calabasas?”

  “That’s a story and a half.”

  When Takira said that, I expected the worse, but for once I was disappointed in a good way. Kevin Calabasas had woken up and been lucid enough to listen to Mr. Cabot, who told him about Mark’s arrest and Julia banning me. That was enough for Calabasas to refuse an interview with Julia and Nazir. That time Patsy got in the way, refusing entry to his room. Julia accused me of causing her to do that even though a patient has the right not to see people if he doesn’t want to, including the police. Patsy wasn’t arrested, but Takira could tell Julia wanted to cuff her.

  “You might want to cut that woman a break,” said Takira.

  “Seriously? You think she’s after Chuck,” I said.

  “She is, believe me, I know, but she’s looking pretty frazzled.”

  Fats jerked a thumb at me. “Have you seen her? Frazzled is just the beginning.”

  “I’ve seen Mercy look worse,” said Takira.

  “Me, too.”

  They laughed and I did not enjoy it.

  “So back to Calabasas,” I said. “Can I see him?”

  “I’m not done with my story.”

  “There’s more?” asked Fats.

  “Oh, hell yeah.”

  Calabasas’s parents were delayed in Atlanta and Molly refused to leave her boss’s side, even when she went into labor. Her husband couldn’t pry her loose. Molly stuck to Calabasas who wasn’t even aware of what was going on. They had to put the monitors on her at his bedside and the crazy woman asked to have her epidural there.

  It didn’t come to that thankfully. The parents showed up at midnight and Molly was wheeled up to Labor and Delivery immediately.

  “I blame you,” said Takira.

  “Me?” I asked. “I didn’t tell Molly to do that. It’s nuts.”

  “I’ve been a nurse for going on ten years. It hasn’t been uneventful, but it was normal. You show up and it all goes to hell.”

  “That’s not my fault,” I said.

  “I think it might be. You’re like a walking Friday the Thirteenth.”

  Fats grinned at me. “I’m riding with Calamity Jane.”

  “You think that’s funny?” asked Takira. “Wait until it hits you.”

  “Nothing hits me.”

  “Famous last words.” She led us back to Calabasas’s room and at the sight of me the uniforms outside jumped to their feet, shaking their heads.

  “She has a no entry order,” said one.

  “You know that’s not legal,” I said.

  “Detective Jones said—”

  “Jones can suck it.” I looked at Mark, who’d gotten to his feet with a huge smile.

  “There you are,” he said. “I’m famous. Did you hear?”

  “I heard. You’re in an exclusive club now. Not many nurses get dragged off in handcuffs.”

  The ex-marine posed, his biceps straining the sleeves of his scrubs. “Looks good on me.” He held out his hand to Fats. “Nice to meet a lifter.”

  Fats shook his hand and they had a short chat about speed bags, whatever that was. The uniforms were shuffling their feet and glancing around. If I had to guess they’d been told by someone higher up than Julia that they couldn’t block my entrance if Calabasas wanted me in. But Julia said no. It wasn’t a great place to be, especially with Mark and Fats standing there, looking ready to crack nuts with their bare hands.

  “Is Calabasas awake?” I asked.

  “He’s sleeping, but his parents are in and they think the world of you.” Mark shot a glance at the uniforms, who put their hands on their walkies. “We all do.” Then he knocked and looked in. “Mercy Watts is here. Would you like to talk with her?”

  I got the thumbs up and Fats began a triangle pose. Yoga never looked so aggressive. The uniforms backed up against the hand railing.

  “Who is she?” one asked.

  “She’s the reigning world champion of Zoozittacarzay,” I said with an eye roll. “Who do you think she is?”

  They stared at me and then looked at Fats who’d gone into tree pose like a ginormous flamingo and then to my astonishment lifted one leg to a perfect right angle. I’d be lucky to stand on one foot for that long and not crack my head open.

  “What’s Zoositty… what’d you call it?” asked a cop.

  Mark started laughing. “Nice.”

  “It’s a roller skate type of lacrosse and croquet,” said Fats.

  “Really?”

  “Mercy, there is absolutely no chance that you won’t solve this thing before the local constabulary.” Fats held her pose beyond what should’ve been human endurance and then grabbed her leg and did a kind of sideways split like a figure skater.

  While the cops and Mark were transfixed, I ducked in Calabasas’s room. Like all ICU suites it was small and crowded with equipment. He wasn’t on a vent thankfully, but he had the full complement of tubing and machinery going, including the dreaded catheter. There were flowers on every available surface and two elderly people on either side of the bed, each holding a hand.

  “I’m so sorry to bother you,” I said, coming to the foot of the bed.

  Calabasas didn’t stir, but his parents started to stand. “Hello, Miss Watts,” said the father, an older copy of his son with thin snow-white hair and a pronounced stoop.

  “No, no. Don’t get up. Can I ask you some quick questions?”

  “Yes. Of course,” said his mother. “I’m Ann and this is Harvey. Thank you for coming.” Ann settled herself back down on the chair and tucked a blanket around her legs. Her hair was as white as her husband’s but thick and done in a style that might’ve been a tribute to Queen Elizabeth. “Mr. Cabot has told us that you were hired to find out who was threatening his daughter and the shooting is related.”

  “I t
hink so, but I’m not sure. Are you involved in his business?”

  “No,” said Harvey. “Not at all. I was in financial management and Ann was a homemaker.”

  “Has he told you anything since you got here?” I asked.

  “He doesn’t want to talk to that detective,” said Ann. “The woman. Mr. Cabot told us about how she’s behaved. Dreadful.”

  “She’s under a lot of pressure.”

  “That’s no excuse for rudeness and I’m not saying that because she’s a woman. Rude is rude.”

  “Besides,” said Harvey, “we’re perfectly happy to help you.”

  “Did someone suggest that you don’t want to cooperate because Jones is a woman?” I asked.

  “The papers are saying it.”

  “Well, they said Jones was put forward because she’s a woman and she’s not ready,” said Harvey. “They think she’s mucking it up and ought to be taken off.”

  I couldn’t stand Julia, but I sort of felt bad for her. It wasn’t fun having your gender be the main thing people focused on as if breasts affected your brain. Maybe they affected other peoples’ brains but not yours. Under different circumstances, I might’ve helped her. As it was, I would kick her butt back down to traffic.

  “I don’t know what they’ll do with her,” I said. “So has he said anything else? Did he see anyone during the shooting? A car? A voice?”

  “No,” said Ann. “Not a thing. Kevin is so confused. He wasn’t threatened and those emails about dear Catherine didn’t say that they’d hurt her, just that she should be fired. Do you think that’s odd?”

  “I do. Something escalated the situation,” I said. “I don’t know what yet. Do you have any part of the business? Are you partners or do you hold a percentage?”

  “No,” said Harvey. “Why would that matter?”

  I told them about Catherine’s account and the need to get the particulars. Unfortunately, they really had no ability to get me in the door legally. It would’ve been so easy to just get in the computers and look it up.

  “You can ask Molly,” said Harvey. “She’s Kevin’s secretary, but really I think she’s more like a vice president.”

  “She’s in labor,” I said.

  “Such a sweet girl,” said Ann, patting Kevin’s hand. “She wouldn’t leave him.”

  Harvey adjusted the oxygen tube under his son’s nose and said, “I think you should go up and ask. There’s nothing Molly wouldn’t do to catch whoever did this.”

  I’m so not doing that.

  “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

  Ann scoffed. “It’s labor. Like war, there’s long periods of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror. You’ll understand someday.”

  “You’re not really selling the whole pregnancy thing well,” I said.

  “It’s worth it in the long run. You should ask. All they can do is say no.”

  I supposed that was true. Dad totally would’ve done it and I was a nurse. I’d seen worse, but labor and delivery wasn’t my jam. I preferred the ER.

  “Wait a minute.” Harvey rooted around behind the bed. “Look what we have here.” He held up a slim leather briefcase with a decorative M stitched on it.

  “You’re a genius, darling,” said Ann. “Molly was working before her labor started. It has her laptop in it. She kept everything in there. Schedules. Clients. Meetings. What do you need?”

  “All that,” I said. “But it’s still her property.”

  “It’s technically company property,” said Harvey.

  The parents looked at Kevin.

  “Should we wake him for permission?” he asked. “Will that do it?”

  “Maybe. The defense could say he was too impaired to give consent.”

  Ann squeezed her son’s hand. “You think that you’ll find the person who did this then?”

  “Well, I am fairly good at this stuff,” I said.

  “Wake him, Harvey. He’d want you to.”

  Harvey stood up. “You aren’t the police, Miss Watts. It doesn’t matter.”

  “They could argue that I was an agent of the police. Evidence has been lost on less.” I took the briefcase from him. “I’ll go to labor and delivery. If they throw me out, then wake your son. He’s been through enough.”

  “Come straight back if Molly won’t see you,” said Harvey.

  “She will,” said Ann. “She’s having a baby, not curing cancer. My grandmother gave birth to my mother in a field while she was hoeing cabbages. She finished the row after.”

  I don’t know what to say about that.

  “Er…okay.”

  Harvey walked me to the door and whispered in my ear, “She doesn’t look it, but Ann’s tough as nails. If I had my choice, I’d leave the culprit alone with her and a tire iron.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” I opened the door and Fats was right there with Mark and they were doing some sort of punch and duck routine that included squatting and trying to take each other out by the legs.

  “And some women are as tough as they look,” said Harvey.

  They stopped after cracking each other in the jaw and Fats said, “Mary Elizabeth Licata. I’m with Mercy.”

  “I’m feeling better about your chances by the second, Miss Watts,” said Harvey smiling. “But I’m an old man and I’d like to see this thing put away sooner rather than later. I’ll give you each a two-thousand-dollar bonus if you wrap this up in twenty-four hours.”

  “Done,” said Fats and they shook hands.

  “What? I can’t guarantee that,” I said.

  “I can.” She popped her knuckles. “I need the money.”

  No pressure then.

  “Fine. I’ll do my best.”

  Mr. Cabot came around the corner with Catherine on a gurney swathed in blankets. “Did I hear a wager?”

  “No,” said Harvey. “It’s an offer. Four thousand for a twenty-four-hour wrap-up. I don’t like to see my Ann disturbed.”

  “I’ll double it,” said Mr. Cabot.

  The cops whispered, “Four thousand. Shit.”

  “That’s right. Four thousand as motivation. Catherine’s been cleared to move to a regular floor.” Mr. Cabot gave me a hard glance. Twenty-four was too long. He wanted it done now.

  Say something reasonable. Keep expectations down.

  “We can do it in twelve,” said Fats.

  Crap on a cracker.

  I tried to say something reasonable and came out with, “Er…okay.”

  Catherine opened her eyes and put her hand out to me. “Don’t let him pressure you. Good work takes time.”

  “I’ll figure it out,” I said, holding her shaking hand. “You’ll be fine. Nothing’s going to happen here in the hospital.”

  Fats made a low growl in her chest, remembering Tiny, I assume. “I know a guy.”

  “I’m sure you do, but Miss Licata, I’m going to be a judge,” said Mr. Cabot. “I’ll hire a couple of retired cops.”

  “Make sure they don’t hate Tommy Watts.”

  He smiled grimly. “They’ll be thoroughly vetted. Come on, Catherine. Let’s get you back in bed.”

  They wheeled Catherine into her room and we went to leave, but Takira snagged us. “She just came in the front door ten minutes ago.”

  “Who?”

  “Detective Jones.”

  “Thanks for the head’s up.”

  Fats and I dashed out and went to the service elevator. We were around the corner when Julia and Nazir got off the regular elevator.

  “You have to pick your battles,” said Nazir.

  “You’re saying that because I’m a woman and you think I can’t hack it,” said Julia.

  “I’m saying that because you’ve chosen to make Mercy your enemy. That’s not a good idea.”

  “I’m not cutting that nitwit any slack because you and the rest of the world have a crush on her.”

  There was a crackle and Takira’s voice came out over the intercom, “Good morning. ICU. How can I help you?”


  “Detectives Jones and Nazir to see patients Calabasas and Cabot.”

  There was a slight wait and Takira said, “I’ve been informed that the patients won’t be granting interviews today.”

  “God dammit. That fucking Mercy Watts,” said Julia.

  “Apologize to Mercy,” said Nazir. “You need her cooperation. There’s nothing to be gained by this.”

  “There is. My reputation is going to be dog shit if I have to ask that two-bit excuse for a model for help. I have to prove that I can do it. You know they’re waiting for me to fail because of Chicago. They didn’t want me. I have one shot and this is it.”

  “I know that. But this is Mercy’s case.”

  “It’s my case.”

  “She had it first.”

  “We don’t know what she has,” said Julia. “Probably nothing.”

  “Oh, she has something,” said Nazir. “Count on it.”

  There was a crack of a hand hitting a panel. “Let us in.”

  “You will have to be authorized,” said Takira.

  “I will get a warrant.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  Fats smirked and pushed me in the service elevator. Once the doors were closed, she asked, “What happened in Chicago?”

  “I have no idea.”

  But I will.

  Ann was right and I was lucky. Molly’s labor had stalled and she was sitting up in bed looking exceedingly bloated and bored.

  “What do you want to know?” she asked.

  “Catherine’s account. When did Elite get it? When did Calabasas assign it to Catherine?”

  Molly put an ice chip in her mouth and sucked on it before spitting it back in her cup. “This is important?”

  “Yes. It’s a timeline thing,” I said. “Do you know when that happened?”

  Her face got tight and her husband, Timothy, came to her side and said, “Okay, do your breathing.”

  We watched the contraction on the monitor and it wasn’t nearly enough to get anywhere. Molly blew out a big breath and said, “I’ve been here forever. Nothing’s happening.”

  “It’ll be fine,” said Timothy. “You’re doing great.”

  Molly looked down at her ice chips and gave her husband a sidelong glance. “Honey, will you get me some more ice chips? These have melted.”