Bone of Contention: A Medical Thriller With Heart (The Gina Mazzio Series Book 4)

by Bette Golden Lamb

  Where is he?

  A thread of suspicion that he was sleeping with one of the tenants in the building grew into a slash of hatred when she walked into the bedroom. The floor was a mess of his discarded dirty clothes. Of course, she was expected to take care of them.

  He never dressed up for anyone, yet when she looked in the closet, one of his two decent sport shirts was missing – the one she liked best. Fuming, she kicked his dirty, discarded clothes from one end of the room to the other. Finally, she bent down and picked up an armful.

  Who does he think he is to cheat on me, give himself to some other woman?

  She stomped into the kitchen and dumped the dirty bundle on the table.

  Let him fix his own dinner. And clean up his own crap.

  “I won’t be treated like this anymore. I won’t,” she screamed at the kitchen walls.

  She sat down at the kitchen table, shoved his dirty clothes aside, laid her head into her arms, and wept.

  * * *

  Thelma looked at the kitchen clock when she heard Marvin come in, whistling some off-key tune. It was after seven. He slammed the door shut and continued whistling; she sat up tall at the table, waiting to confront him. She was overwhelmed with a sense of hatred.

  “What’re you looking at, woman?”

  “You!” She could see a smudge of lipstick on his collar.

  “Well, stop it!” He stuck a finger into the pile of dirty clothes. “What’s with this shit, and where the hell is my dinner?”

  “Let the bitch you’ve been sleeping with feed you.”

  A grimace of anger crossed his face. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Who is she?”

  He stared at her a moment more before throwing his head back and roaring with laughter. “What’s with you? You finally gone off your rocker?”

  “That’s all you have to say?” She pointed, moving a finger up and down his length. “Look at you ... all dressed up. You don’t do that for me ... ever.”

  He walked around the table as though he was strolling in the park and suddenly reached out, grabbed her by the hair, and yanked her out of her chair. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to with that nasty mouth of yours?”

  “I’m talking to you!” She spat in his face. “I won’t stand for it, you hear me?” She pulled at his fingers, trying to loosen his grip, but he only clutched her hair tighter. Spittle ran down his cheek.

  “If I want to fuck someone else, that’s what I’ll do. And you better remember that.”

  “No, you won’t, Mr. Big Shot. I’ll not only leave you, I’ll go to the police, tell them what you’ve been doing.”

  His mouth hung open in surprise. “You’re about as dumb as they come,” he said, laughing at her again. “You’re the one making up that mess of goo. You’re the one killin’ those women, not me.”

  She screamed in his face. “If you think you’re out of this, you’re not so smart yourself.”

  He threw her against the table; she rolled off the edge and fell to the floor.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Thelma got up, rubbed her ribs, and plopped down in a chair. She was so angry she barely felt the pain. “You said you killed that nurse, Gina Mazzio.”

  “Yeah, I took care of her. So?”

  “So why was she at work today? Almost caught me messing with the KY jelly.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “I guess I was talking to a ghost.”

  His eyes went dull. “I buried the bitch in Golden Gate Park ... she was dead ... wasn’t breathing.”

  “You thought she wasn’t breathing? Well, I’m here to tell you, Marvin Karsh, you’re obviously not smart enough to know when someone is or isn’t breathing. Gina Mazzio was at work today, no worse the wear for your bumbling efforts.”

  “But—”

  “—but nothing, you fool. And remember, since you’re the one who tried to kill her, who do you think she’ll point a finger at?”

  He smacked her hard across the face. She reached up to cover the burn with her palm.

  “You better do what you’re supposed to,” he said. “We’re in this together.”

  She snatched a t-shirt from the dirty clothes, wiped lipstick off his cheek, showed it to him, and threw it in his face.

  “And you better not forget that the next time you dare to mess around with some floozy.”

  Chapter 45

  “Gina, you don’t really know it was your ex-husband,” Mulzini said. “It was a note. Anyone could have written it and left it on your windshield.”

  “Inspector, I know it was him,” she said into her cell phone.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “My brother Vinnie made some calls back East – checked around our old Bronx neighborhood.” Gina had to swallow hard to keep from screaming at Mulzini. “Dominick took off ... broke parole.” She looked out the window. Rain had started pouring down.

  “Okay, okay, let me think about this, Gina. I’ve got s few other things I’m looking into.”

  “You’re not just putting me off, are you?”

  “You know me better than that.”

  Gina didn’t respond for a moment. When she did, her voice was tight. “People change, Inspector.”

  * * *

  “But it was on my car.” Gina gave the Don’t-get-too-comfortable note to Harry, then resumed her pacing back and forth between the sofa and window. “First Mulzini won’t listen, now it’s you.”

  “Look, doll. Mulzini is a professional. He’s not going to chase after hunches.”

  “Okay, but why won’t you believe me? It has to be Dominick. Like, who else?”

  “Maybe it was the guy who kidnapped you and tried to bury you in the park.”

  Gina shook here head, tried to calm herself, but fear rumbled deep inside her. “I told you ... told you he was here ... that he was the one who cut my brake lines.”

  Harry caught her arm, looked into her eyes. “Come on, doll. Please calm down. Just because Dominick broke parole and no one has seen him for awhile, that doesn't mean he's in San Francisco. Besides, regardless of where that creep is, you and I ... we’ll work it out.”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down, Harry. I can’t do it. You weren’t the one married to that maniac.” She yanked her arm away. “It was me.”

  “Gina Mazzio, don’t you dare pull away from me. I’m always on your side. Always.”

  “Don’t you get it? I feel so trapped. There’s this crazy business with the hospital and Dominick and...”

  She stood still, knew she was glaring. He reached out and folded her into his arms. His hands were gentle as he raked his fingers through her hair, massaged her shoulders, and caressed her back. Finally, she started to think clearly.

  “I know how hard all of this is has been for you,” he said, “but if we’re going to find the answers, we have to be rational.”

  “I am being rational, Harry. Who else would say something like, ‘Don’t get too comfortable?’ It’s exactly the kind of thing he would say. Besides, I know his handwriting.”

  “It’s only a note, babe. It could be anyone trying to shake you up. Why are you so certain it’s your ex? It’s been years since you’ve seen his handwriting. If what you’re saying is true, maybe he was the one who hijacked you in his truck?”

  “It wasn’t him.”

  “Then who? Just someone trying to shake you up?”

  “Well, it’s working. I mean. I just don’t know anymore. Maybe it’s Thelma’s husband. Obviously I’ve ticked off somebody’s wife, and she’s the first one to come to mind.”

  Gina walked to the sofa and collapsed onto it. She covered her face.

  Harry eased down next to her. “Come on, doll, it’s going to be all right.”

  “Why can’t people just leave me alone? I only want is to do my job and be with you.”

  “We both know nothing is that simple,” he whispered in her ear.

  She looked at him. �
��What do you mean?”

  “This whole thing with Thelma doesn’t surprise me.”

  “Again: what do you mean?”

  “You’ve never been able to let things go, just let them ride. I think sometimes you care too much.”

  “Harry, how can a person care too much, especially in our profession?”

  “Most of us wouldn’t give a second thought to some of the things you pick up on. We put in our hours and go home. That’s the end of it.”

  “Ha! No one is more dedicated than you, Harry Lucke.”

  “You are! It’s never just a job for you, and never will be.”

  Gina smiled, then began to laugh. “Next thing I know, you’ll pin a medal on me.”

  “I hope you know what a really big chance you took by turning in that culture when Taneka made it clear how she felt about the whole business.”

  “What Thelma is doing is horribly wrong. I honestly believe she’s murdering these women. I can’t just stand by and pretend it’s not happening. And Taneka refuses to even consider that Thelma could be doing anything like that.”

  “But how sure are you? Really? Taneka could be right about the septicemia being just a lot of bad luck.”

  “Just because I couldn’t pick up anything under the microscope doesn’t mean the septicemia isn’t originating from Thelma. It only means I don’t have the right equipment to see what she’s using to contaminate the KY jelly.”

  “True enough.”

  “Well, I should have an answer tomorrow,” Gina said, “after they plate out the culture I sent in.”

  Gina grabbed onto his hand. “What do you really think, Harry?”

  “Listen to me, beautiful: in the last three years I’ve seen your intuition at work. You have the nose of a bloodhound. If there’s something out of whack, I believe you’ll find it. But if you keep doing this kind of thing, one of these days somebody is going to chop off that pretty snozzola of yours.”

  She gave him a fleeting smile. “I know it’s Thelma. I know it ... just like I know Dominick left that note. I am not crazy”

  “It doesn’t matter. You don’t want Taneka going to administration with ruffled feathers ... putting you back on the outs ... the same place you were three years ago.”

  “I guess.”

  “Then cool it.”

  “But—”

  “—but look, listen, and keep thine lovely lips closed.”

  Chapter 46

  Frannie Garrity was trying to make dinner while listening to one of Ryan’s students butcher Beethoven’s Für Elise; she wanted to yank out her hair.

  When the twelve-year-old prodigy finally left, Ryan came into the kitchen and threw his arms around her. “I keep telling myself the kid will get better, but what do I know?”

  Frannie held him at arms’ length. “You know he will. All of your students do.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” He moved to the coffee pot and splashed some into a cup that Frannie had created especially for him on her potter’s wheel.

  “I need to make you another coffee cup,” she said. “That one is disintegrating before my eyes.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, sure. Do you know how many years it took to get you to throw this one?”

  “I promise.”

  “When I have it right here in my hot little hand, then I’ll believe it.” He set the coffee down on the counter. “How did it go at the clinic today?”

  “It was difficult, really difficult.”

  “I wanted to be with you,” Ryan said. “You know that.”

  “Yes.” She took his hand. “You were right, though ... we need the money from the new student. That piano lesson was more important.”

  “Being with you is important. I hated myself after you left.”

  “Let’s just forget about it, even if it was pretty awful. I had the medical assistant from hell taking care of me.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. Nothing really. She made me feel dirty.” She took a tentative sip of the coffee she’d just poured, made a face, dumped the rest out, and rinsed her cup in the sink. “How can you drink that sludge? Anyway, after tomorrow, it will all be over.”

  “Ironic. I just got the last sperm count test results back ... it was finally negative.”

  “Talk about closing the barn door after the horse is out.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” he said, “if you really want to have the baby ... I’ll go along with it. Maybe I can pick up some kind of day job.”

  “No, Ryan. We’ve gone over this from every angle and there’s no way we can have another child. You are not giving up your music ... we both know that’s what it would mean.”

  “But Frannie—”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed as hard as she could. “We’ll do what we have to do.” She whispered in his ear. “Besides, what would I do without your students’ music to lighten up my day?”

  * * *

  The next morning, Frannie held onto Gina’s hand as Dr. Forez placed the laminaria into her cervix. “I’m so glad you’re with me,” she said to Gina. “I don’t think I could bear it if that other woman was here.”

  “I’m happy I can help.” Gina said. “And you came through with flying colors.”

  “At this point, I just want to get the whole thing over with.”

  Dr. Forez removed all the instruments, peeled off her gloves, and held out a hand to help Frannie up. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

  “Thanks.” She watched as the doctor washed her hands and then left the room.

  “You do have someone to come pick you up this afternoon, don’t you?” Gina said.

  “Yes. My husband.”

  “Well, that’s great ... because in the package of meds we gave you is a sedative. It’s going to make you a little groggy ... or at least more relaxed,” Gina said. “Can’t let you behind a wheel that way.” At the door, she smiled at Frannie. “See you later.”

  * * *

  It had been difficult for Gina to concentrate on Frannie’s procedure. Mostly, she was highly curious about were the results of the culture she’d sent into the lab for analysis.

  Gina had made it her business to be the one doing the setup for Frannie. She wasn’t about to let Thelma near the instrument trays, and as luck would have it, there was only one morning setup necessary − Frannie’s.

  Gina hurried back to the nurses’ station, pulled up a chair, and scrolled through the lab test returns, looking for the results for the KY jelly culture. Her heart sank; nothing there. She went through the returns twice more.

  Still not in. Damn!

  When she turned away from the computer, Thelma was standing there looking over her shoulder.

  Gina jumped. “For heavens sake, Thelma, you scared me. Why did you sneak up on me like that?”

  Thelma stepped aside, said nothing.

  A jolt of fear raced up Gina’s spine as she moved out of the station. When she turned around, Thelma was still looking at her with eyes that glowed with venom.

  Chapter 47

  Mulzini had been on the landline for at least an hour trying to get through to someone in the parole department of the New York correctional system. When he finally reached the right office, he was told, “We prefer to handle this kind of request by computer, with proper authorization by your Captain, or whoever is in charge there.”

  “That’s not going to cut it,” Mulzini said. “We’re looking at a kidnapping and possible attempted murder here. We need that info now ... and if I don’t get it, there’s going to be hell to pay. Got that?”

  “We have protocols, Inspector.”

  Well, good for you.

  Mulzini was prepared to keep hassling this guy, and anyone else in N York, until he spoke directly to Dominick Colletti’s parole officer.

  “Are you still there?” he said.

  “Hanging on.”

  He hoped against hope that Gina’s brother was wrong about Colletti breaking parole, that all h
e’d heard was neighborhood gossip. It would make it so much easier if Gina’s ex was in the Bronx, where he was supposed to be.

  Mulzini had known Gina for three years and he still couldn’t understand why anyone would threaten her, let alone want to kill her. It just didn’t seem realistic. He wanted to prove that a mistake had been made and Gina’s creepy ex was where he was supposed to be – in the in the Bronx being a good local hoodlum.

  “Are you still there, Inspector?” said the nameless voice on the telephone.

  “Yeah. I’m here.”

  “Sorry you had to wait so long. I finally pinned down Dominick Colletti’s parole officer; I’ll switch you over.”

  Mulzini wanted to make some smart-ass remark about the New York accent that he could cut with a knife, but he let it go and simply said, “Thanks.”

  “Yeah, Bashford here. What now?”

  “Sorry to bother you Officer Bashford, but I’m Inspector Mulzini calling you from the San Francisco PD about one of your parolees.”

  “Yeah? That so?”

  “Name’s Colletti. Dominick Colletti.”

  “Yeah, what about him?”

  Mulzini had had it. He was pissed. Dealing with New Yorkers had been nothing but a pain in the ass.

  “What about him? I’ll tell you what about him. He may have broken parole and is trying to kill his ex wife. Is that good enough for you, officer?”

  “All right, already. Don’t blow a gasket. You could have told me that right out of the gate, you know? Geesh!”

  “Listen, man,” Mulzini said, “I’ve been on this phone for more than hour trying to verify a simple fact. Has he broken parole or not?”

  Mulzini could hear the guy’s fingers tapping away at a computer keyboard.

  “Afraid so. He’s missed his check-in two weeks in a row.”

  * * *

  Mulzini wished he were somewhere skipping rocks across the water. He needed that; it was the only thing that ever really calmed him down. Instead, he was steaming over the Colletti thing, wondering if the bastard really did cut Gina Mazzio’s brake line. Not only that, he was going to have to tell Gina that her ex was officially on the loose, whereabouts unknown.