Return of the Magi
Page 16
‘This might be a record, us hauling you back to jail twice in forty-eight hours,’ Myers commented.
‘You should have bet on that, Sanchez,’ Foster said. ‘Look, it’s Christmas Eve, you’ve both got families waiting for you. I can take it from here.’
Myers looked up brightly. ‘You sure?’
‘No problem.’
Sanchez gave Foster a high-five. ‘Thanks, Foster. And congratulations.’
Foster watched and waited until they were gone, then unlocked the handcuffs dangling from Emil’s wrists while he muttered to himself. ‘God, more tests. More needles, the kid said. Big long ones. I hate needles. Every time I see one, I want to lose my lunch.’
Emil looked down in amazement as the handcuffs fell free. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Merry Christmas, kid,’ Foster said, then hurried down the hall toward Dr White’s office.
Emil was dazed by his freedom for a moment, then made a mad dash for the elevator, stabbing the button repeatedly. While he was waiting, he overheard Foster and Dr White talking in an adjacent room.
‘I know it’s Christmas tomorrow, Mr Foster, but the earlier we get started, the better.’
‘I got no problem with that. Jeez, you’re going to take more blood from me now?’
‘Yes. There are tests we need to run tonight. Now the extraction of bone marrow is an outpatient procedure, but you will be sedated, so arrange for a family member to drive you, and to stay with you for the first twenty-four hours after you’re released.’
The elevator doors slid open and Emil stepped in, but held the door so he could keep eavesdropping.
‘Why? What’s going to happen? I’m not going to get sick or anything, am I?’
‘You’ll be a little woozy, a little weak for a day or two. You won’t feel like doing much for yourself. You shouldn’t be alone.’
‘I think I can manage.’
‘We can admit you overnight, of course, if there isn’t anyone.’
‘Not a problem, Dr White. I’ll see you in the morning.’
‘Merry Christmas to you, sir.’
‘Sure. You too.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Foster emerged from Dr White’s office, still fiddling with his shirt cuff. The ward was silent, the hallway empty … almost.
Emil was sitting on a bench by the elevator doors. He actually had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t seeing an apparition. Finally, he stepped up to the elevator and punched the down button. ‘Thought you’d be long gone by now.’
Emil pushed himself up off the bench and joined Foster in the elevator. Both men stared straight ahead and watched the floor numbers lighting up as a car made its way to their floor. ‘Yeah, well, I thought about it. Didn’t think I’d have a lot of luck hitching a ride in this getup, even if it is Vegas. Plus it’s pretty late, not a lot of traffic this time of night on Christmas Eve.’ He dared a glance at Foster, who was still staring straight ahead. ‘Hey, you think maybe I could crash on your couch tonight?’
Foster snorted. ‘So you can catch a few Zs and steal my car in the middle of the night?’
Emil’s shoulders drooped. ‘It’s not like that. Hey, I’m here, aren’t I? Besides, I know what you drive – even I wouldn’t steal that junker.’
‘Funny. And, no, you can’t crash on my couch. What do I look like? A Best Western? Besides, I got things to do in the morning. I have to be back here first thing.’
Emil cleared his throat. ‘Well, maybe I could give you a hand with that. You know, sort of a payback for giving me a place to sleep that isn’t jail or a loony bin.’
Foster finally looked at him and cocked a brow. ‘You know what happens if you stick around.’
Emil nodded. ‘I know. Back to jail.’
‘You wish, but you’re not getting off that easy. While Dr White was in there draining my blood, Harold called me. The guy’s an idiot. He actually wanted you back there until I told him you skipped again. He’ll be real happy to hear you didn’t. And the more I think about it, the more I like you back at Clark County. What am I going to do? Send you back to jail to sit on your duff watching videos and probably getting a law degree so you can sue me when you get out? Hell, no. I want to wake up every morning smiling because Emil Rice has been up for five hours already, emptying bedpans and puke buckets.’
Emil frowned and scuffed his toe on the linoleum as the elevator doors finally pinged open and they both stepped in. Muzak was playing: ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’.
Foster dragged his hands down his face. ‘Man, this is going to make just a buttload of paperwork, you know that? I could really use a beer. You want a beer?’
‘That’s a probation violation.’
‘You never worried about violating your probation before. Besides, I’m your probation officer and I’m waiving that clause right now.’
‘You can’t do that.’
‘I know, but who’s going to tell?’
‘Yeah. A beer would be good.’
They stepped out of the elevator and walked side by side through the hospital lobby toward the exit. ‘You got a tree at your place, Foster?’
‘Of course I have a tree. What kind of question is that? It’s Christmas.’ Foster pushed open the lobby doors and felt the smack of chilled desert air hit his face. ‘Hey, you like ham?’
‘Sure I like ham. Who doesn’t?’
***
Officers Myers and Sanchez walked to their patrol car through the thinning crowd. Everyone was dispersing, heading back to family, friends and their postponed Christmas Eve celebrations.
‘What a weird night. I’m glad it’s over. But it’s pretty cool about Foster being a match for that kid.’
Sanchez nodded. ‘If you think about it too hard, it makes your head swim.’
Myers looked at his watch. ‘It’s still early enough to catch some holiday cheer. Wife said she’d hold a couple presents until I got home.’
‘Same here.’
They were almost at their squad when a dirty, disheveled man pushing a metal grocery cart approached them from the opposite direction.
‘Move it along, buddy,’ Sanchez warned him. ‘Show’s over.’
The man nodded and smiled at them as they skirted around him. ‘Joy to the world, man. You got something for me?’
Officer Sanchez stopped after a few steps, then turned back. He pulled out his wallet, found some single bills, and tucked them into the man’s hand. ‘Merry Christmas,’ he said, then started walking away.
‘Wait.’ The man rummaged in his cart and pressed something into Sanchez’s hand as he looked him straight in the eye, a gentle smile on his face. ‘Merry Christmas to you, Officer.’ Then he turned around and pushed his cart into the darkness.
Sanchez followed him with his eyes, then looked down at what the homeless man had given him.
It was a bar of Ivory soap.
THE BEGINNING
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This ebook first published in Great Britain by Penguin Books 2017
Copyright © Traci Lambrecht, 2017
The moral right of the author has been asserted
ISBN: 978-1-405-93453-4