by A. P. Eisen
Jeff opened the door marked STAFF and closed it behind them. A small rectangular table took up the center of the room, surrounded by plastic chairs. A vending machine carrying snacks and sodas stood against the far wall, next to a watercooler.
“Can I get you some water?” Paul asked, taking a cup for himself and Rob.
“No. I’m okay, thanks.” Jeff sat in front of them, lacing his fingers over and over.
“Don’t be nervous.” Rob gave him his big, good-natured smile. “We just need to ask you a few questions about an argument you might’ve heard between Dr. Ulrich and Brick Radcliffe.” He paused and asked gently, “Do you remember it?”
“Oh, yes.” He nodded, and Paul sat with his pad poised at the ready. “It was a terrible fight. Billie’s arm had been broken, but there was no orthopedic surgeon on duty that night. I think there was some mix-up or something. Anyway, a resident set the fracture, put it in a cast, and sent Billie home. Two days later, he came to the emergency room, complaining of pain. Dr. Ulrich was called, and he found the arm swollen around the cast and the fingers numb. He…he freaked out. Started yelling for them to cut the cast off, and when they did, the arm…” He stopped and hung his head. “It was almost dead. The resident had set the cast too tight, and Billie got what’s called ‘compartment syndrome.’ ”
“What’s that?” Rob asked.
“After an injury, if the area is compressed too tightly, swelling can occur. That pressure stops the flow of blood to the area. In this case, Billie’s arm was compressed too tightly in the cast, and it cut off the flow of blood to the muscles and nerves in the arm. It caused necrosis to set in.”
“Is that as bad as it sounds?” Paul asked, both fascinated by the medical issue and sick over what happened to the young man.
“Yeah.” Brown eyes met his. “It means it started dying inside. Dr. Ulrich got him on the operating table and did whatever he could, but there’s only a thirty percent chance Billie will regain full use of his arm.”
“Jesus, that’s awful.” Paul ran a hand down his own arm, imagining. “All from a simple break.”
No longer nervous, Jeff continued, eager now to tell his story. “When Billie’s father heard the results of the surgery, he went wild. They had to call security and hold him back from getting to Dr. Ulrich.”
“Anything else?” Paul wrote rapidly, taking down everything Jeff said.
“Brick Radcliffe swore, if it was the last thing he’d ever do, he’d make Dr. Ulrich and everyone connected to the case pay for what they did to Billie. His exact words were: ‘I don’t care if I go to jail. You, your staff, the whole hospital’s gonna get what’s coming to you.’ ” He pressed his lips together. “Then the police came and pulled him out.”
Rob tapped his pen on the table. “And what about Dr. Ulrich? Did he just stand there and let Radcliffe yell at him? And wasn’t the resident there as well?”
“Dr. Freeman? Oh no. Dr. Ulrich wouldn’t let him near Billie after what happened. And I guess since Dr. Ulrich was the one to try and fix the problem and the only doctor Brick Radcliffe had contact with, he took out his anger on him. Dr. Ulrich was furious that this had happened to Billie in the first place, and then to be threatened? He was pretty shaken. I know he spoke to the police afterward and said he was going to file a restraining order or something?”
“Yes, thanks. We know.” Paul reviewed his notes for a moment. “Did you ever see Brick Radcliffe come back and apologize to Dr. Ulrich for what he said? Or hear anyone from the Radcliffe family speak to Dr. Ulrich after that?”
“N-no?” He screwed up his face as if trying hard to remember. “I know they checked Billie out against doctor’s orders and moved him to the Holy Mary hospital. That’s about twenty minutes from here.”
“You’ve been very helpful. Thank you so much.” Paul could turn on the charm when needed. “Can I ask if you’ve heard any gossip about Dr. Ulrich being sued by the Radcliffes?”
“Yes. The hospital is being sued for malpractice, and so are the resident and Dr. Ulrich. Dr. Ulrich was very upset about it.”
“I’m sure he was,” Paul said, his voice as encouraging as possible. “Did you hear anything personally?”
“Only that it was ridiculous for him to be sued, and he’d have to spend a fortune now on lawyers to prove he was innocent.” His mouth trembled. “And now he’s dead. He was a sweet man. It isn’t right that someone did this to him. You have to find his killer. You have to.”
The list of suspects was growing, which meant this wasn’t going to wrap up anytime soon.
“We’re doing our best to make sure that happens. Here’s my card and my partner’s.” He and Rob slid their business cards across the table. “If you remember anything else, please let us know.”
“I will.” He sniffled. “I have to get to work.”
“We know. Thank you so much for your help.” A wild thought hit him. “Did you and Dr. Ulrich ever have a personal relationship?”
A deep-red flush rose on Jeff’s face. “Um, what do you mean? I don’t know how this helps the investigation.”
“We need to know all the details of the victim’s life, but rest assured, whatever you tell us remains confidential.”
Once again as nervous as he’d been when they’d begun the interview, Jeff chewed his lip and clasped his hands together. Sweat beaded on his brow, and Paul, not wishing to force the man to out himself, decided to end the questioning.
“Don’t worry. It’s fine if you don’t feel comfortable answering the question, but it could be crucial to the investigation.” He waited.
“No. Dr. Ulrich would say hello to me, but that was about it.” His shoulders drooped.
“Thanks for all the time you’ve given us. You’ve been very helpful.”
Relief shone in Jeff’s eyes. “O-okay, thanks.” Jeff walked with them to the elevators. Before leaving them, he touched Paul’s arm. “Please do everything you can to find out who did this to Dr. Ulrich. He didn’t deserve it.”
Paul gave Jeff a tight smile. “We will.”
The elevator button dinged, and they got in. On the ride down Rob asked, “Yes or no?”
“Yeah, I think so. It’s obvious Jeff had a bit of a crush on Ulrich.”
Rob snorted. “Bulldog, you’re slipping. I wasn’t asking about that. I was asking if you thought Brick Radcliffe was our number-one suspect.” He nudged Paul’s shoulder. “But for the record, yeah. Jefferson seemed to have a big case of hero worship for the doctor.”
The elevator doors opened, and they left the hospital. The late-afternoon sun hit their faces when they walked outside.
His face hot, Paul slipped his sunglasses on. “I couldn’t push the poor guy. It’s not right, and it seemed one-sided. Like Ulrich barely knew Jefferson existed.”
“You did the right thing, Paulie. Back to the station?” Rob glanced at his watch. “It’s nearly five. We have to file our reports, and we should cross-check some things.”
“Yeah. I want to look into the restraining order filed by Ulrich against Radcliffe, then set up an appointment to meet with Radcliffe.”
They got into Rob’s car and drove away.
Two hours later, Paul returned to the hospital and again checked with the information desk. “Can you tell me what room Mrs. Baxter is in, please?”
CHAPTER TEN
Old.
God, his father had aged. Cliff supposed it was the result of his mother’s illness taking its toll on him with the constant worry and running back and forth to the hospital, but Cliff remembered his father with a shock of dark hair and a stocky build.
The man in front of him bore little resemblance to that. His father’s hair had turned gray, and his haggard face revealed bruised shadows under his eyes. His slightly shaky hands held a paper cup with coffee, and Cliff waited until he’d taken a sip and set it down before speaking.
“Hi, Dad.” Cliff entered the room. His father jumped, and after darting a nervous glance at Cliff’s
mother sleeping in the bed, stood to greet him.
“Cliff. Good of you to come.”
They shook hands, and though Cliff considered it a small win that his father had done so, it wasn’t to be the joyful reunion he’d secretly hoped for.
“Of course. How’s she doing?”
“It was a bad day. Lots of nausea…I almost called you to say not to come.” At that, his father broke off and faced away from Cliff.
“I’ll stay as long as you want. Can I…can I go over to the bed? Would that be okay?”
“Yeah, she’d like that.”
“Mom…Mama, it’s me. Cliff.” He debated only a second before reaching out to brush his fingertips against her spotted, cool cheek, then rested his hand on top of her cold one on the blanket. “I’m going to stay until you wake up.” He sat in the chair next to the bed.
“She’s been so happy today, knowing you were coming.”
He nodded. “And you? Are you glad to see me?” His heart pounded as he waited for his father’s answer.
“I never wanted you to cut all ties with us.”
Cliff blinked. “You told me not to bother coming back unless I wasn’t gay anymore. What was I supposed to do—pretend to be straight when I came to visit? You have to know by now that being gay isn’t a choice I made one morning. It’s who I am, like being tall, and having brown eyes. I am who I am, Dad, and I can’t, I won’t, change a single thing about me to make you love me.”
“Cliff?” A weak voice broke the thrumming silence.
Shifting his attention to the bed, Cliff jumped out of his chair. His mother smiled up at him. “Mom? Mom.” With care, Cliff lifted her hands and held them. “It’s me.”
Tears trickled down her face. “You came. I didn’t think you would after what we said to you.”
“Don’t think about that now.”
Her eyes focused on him, and Cliff’s throat tightened. No matter what, she’d loved him as a child, and that was what he was choosing to remember.
“I’m sorry. I was so wrong.” Her hands moved fretfully in his. “I didn’t understand.”
“Shh. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter. It’s all good now.”
“No. I…” She licked her lips, and Cliff anxiously waited for her words. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Mom, you don’t need to do this.”
“Yes, I do. I’m fighting this, and I plan to be around, so you need to hear this. I’m sorry we missed all this time together.” Her voice quivered, and fresh tears ran down her face.
“I am too.” Whatever else needed to be said could wait for another day. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now. The chemo hit me so hard the first few days. I can’t control the nausea. They’re going to try some new medication that hopefully will control it from now on.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
Her gaze moved over him as if drinking in his presence, and he smiled at her.
“I’m really glad you called.”
Her eyes welled up. “I am too. I’m so sorry it took me this long. I wish—”
Knowing her emotional state remained fragile, Cliff wanted as little stress on her as possible.
“I’m here now. We’ll figure it out as you get better.”
“Thank you for coming.” She closed her eyes.
Cliff let go of her hand and walked toward the windows on the other side of the room. The swell of pain in his throat brought a rush of tears, and he wiped them away with the heel of his hand. His father remained seated in the chair, his head hanging low, either unable or unwilling to meet Cliff’s eyes.
This was how it always was with his father once Cliff hit his teens: opposite sides, a yawning gulf between them. But Cliff didn’t need their approval any longer. He’d learned to survive on his own, mistakes and all. He wouldn’t plead for understanding and acceptance. As long as he accepted himself, he’d be fine.
“I’d like you to let me know what’s going on, day to day. I can come by and visit on the weekends and after work.” It would mean getting home later than he had these past months, but with Paul working this new case, Cliff didn’t count on him being around much.
“I know she’ll like that.”
“And you? How do you feel?”
“You’re my son. Nothing’s gonna change that.”
The monotone voice in which those words were delivered didn’t bring Cliff any joy.
“But you haven’t changed your mind.”
“It doesn’t sound like it matters whether I do or don’t. You’ve been living your life as you see fit, and are successful at it from what I’ve seen. I can’t say I’m comfortable with it, but it’s the way I am. We never talked much about bedroom stuff when I was growing up, so I’m not about to change.”
While it wasn’t the response he’d been hoping for, Cliff could understand. The cloudy memories of his grandparents involved quiet Sunday dinners after church, solemn faces, and admonitions not to run and get dirty when he was a child.
“I’m not asking for change. I’m asking for respect. That’s all. If you think that’s something we can work on, we can shake hands and see how it goes. What do you think?”
Unsmiling, his father stared at his outstretched hand, then met his gaze. Cliff’s heart accelerated.
He’s not willing. He’s going to let me walk out of here.
“Okay, then.” His father clasped his hand, and they shook. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” Cliff said, the rush of relief so overpowering, he felt dizzy for a second. “Tomorrow.”
When he walked out of the room and saw Paul leaning against the wall, it was almost too much. Blinking furiously to keep from breaking down, he concentrated on putting one foot before the other.
“Hi. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Paul straightened and met him halfway, his dark-blue eyes searching. “How’s your mother? Was your father there? I heard voices but didn’t want to intrude.”
“It went okay, I think. We can talk later. Are you coming over?”
“Yeah. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
God help him, if he didn’t already love Paul, this would certainly tip him over the edge.
“I think I am.”
“Okay, let’s go. I went home and dropped my car off, then took a cab here so we wouldn’t have two cars.”
“You thought of everything.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Paul said with a cocky grin.
This teasing, light side of Paul always surprised Cliff, and he met Paul’s smile with an answering grin. “I’m looking forward to it.”
* * *
Back at his house, Cliff shed his suit and tie, changing into a T-shirt and sweat pants. Paul had already changed at his apartment, but he removed his holster and secured his gun in the bedroom.
“What would you like for dinner?”
“Are you hungry?” Paul asked.
“Not really. Just kind of tired.”
“C’mon, then.” Paul put an arm around his shoulders. “Let’s sit. Tell me what happened.”
Cliff stretched out with his head pillowed in Paul’s lap, while Paul threaded his fingers through Cliff’s hair. He repeated the conversations.
Paul slid his hand down Cliff’s jawline and stroked his cheek. “And how do you feel about it now?”
“Angry that my mother had to get sick for both of them to realize I was worth it, but also happy we might have a real relationship for the first time in the past fifteen years.”
“You get the chance many don’t. I’m happy for you.”
Cliff kissed Paul’s palm. “It was really nice to see you there. I didn’t realize how drained I was until I left the room.”
“I didn’t want you to have to drive alone. I didn’t want you to be alone at all.”
Paul bent and kissed him, gently at first, then with a rising fervor that chased away Cliff’s fatigue. Anxious to feel Paul naked against him, Clif
f tugged at Paul’s shirt and pulled his own off.
“I want you.”
He smoothed his hands over the broad expanse of Paul’s naked back, feeling the muscles ripple beneath his touch. Paul pushed him down on the sofa, hovering over him, eyes bright, lips curved in one of those unrestrained smiles Cliff didn’t see often enough.
“We have all night, and I don’t want to rush this.” Paul kissed him softly, letting their lips cling until both of them panted. “I wasn’t sure how it would turn out, but no matter what, I’ll always want you.”
Cliff touched his face, fingers trailing along the strong jawline. “I can’t ever imagine a time or place where I wouldn’t want you.” It wasn’t a declaration of love, but Cliff was fine with that. Finding Paul waiting for him at the hospital was proof enough without words that what they had went deeper than the physical attraction between them. He could wait, he decided, as Paul kissed under his jaw and down his chest.
A buzzing noise sounded on the coffee table, stopped, and started up again.
“Goddammit.” Paul sat up and grabbed the phone. His face turned from fierce to puzzled. “It’s Rob.” Paul turned pale as he read the message, and then he jumped off the couch.
Cliff braced himself on his elbow. “What’s wrong? You look like death.”
“It’s Annabel. She had to be taken to the hospital. She may be losing the baby. Rob’s with her. I have to go.”
Cliff sprang up. “I’m coming with you.”
Paul stopped in the middle of tying his sneakers. “Are you sure? It might be a late night, and you have work tomorrow.”
“If you’re there, that’s where I’m going to be.”
Paul gave a quick nod, and he and Cliff quickly dressed, then he grabbed his car keys.
