[Gina Mazzio 06.0] Bone Crack

by JJ Lamb

  “She wasn’t worried about the legal implications?” Harry said.

  “We discussed that in the beginning. She was a little hesitant at first, said what you really needed was a ‘black hat’ hacker.’ You know, someone who’s into it for personal gain, or is just plain malicious.”

  “Well, that’s not us.”

  “Maybe not, but that’s the kind of hacker you need.She calls herself a ‘white hat.’ Helps people test their security systems ... retrieves lost passwords for friends ... that sort of thing.”

  “But will she help?”

  “Yes. She’s even excited about it.”

  “When can Gina and I get together with her?”

  “I’ve got her phone number. She’ll be expecting a call from you.”

  Chapter 38

  Gina dropped Harry off right after work, gave him a wave, and drove off. He stood in the rain for a moment and watched the back of her beloved, cranky Fiat roadster as she drove away.

  It is kinda cute.

  He wondered again if she’d ever give up on that funky car. Knew she’d probably always find a way to breathe life back into it, if it took her own dying breath.

  Harry climbed up the stairs and stood at Paul’s door, waiting for his older brother to answer his knock. Sooner or later he would open up, if for no other reason than to yell, “Go away!”

  That was their ritual.

  Harry was always hesitant to use the key Paul had given him the day his brother moved in to this bachelor’s apartment after a contentious divorce. That day he’d insisted that Harry take the key. “I need to know there’s someone out there who cares whether I’m alive or dead.”

  That was more than two years ago.

  It was probably that memory more than anything else that kept Harry from using the key—he was always afraid that one day he would unlock the door and find Paul dead.

  It had been a really sad time. Even now, Paul still tried to get his ex-wife, now re-married, to change her mind and take him back. His brother couldn’t let it go.

  Harry thought of Gina and realized how many times they’d come close to losing each other, too.

  The Lucke men never seem to give up, no matter what. Like wolves, we mate for life.

  Paul always acted annoyed when he had to answer the door, but Harry was never sure whether it was a façade to discourage unwanted guests, or real. And Harry didn’t like barging in on anyone, not even his brother.

  Live and let live.

  That reason alone made him uncomfortable with the idea that they were going to hack into someone’s computer and romp through supposedly confidential information.

  Cyberspace didn’t seem real to Harry—maybe most people felt the same way. He didn’t know for sure, but he suspected that it was true. Virtual reality wasn’t something you could define easily and it definitely wasn’t touchable.

  That was the virtual part.

  When he thought about the nebulous iCloud holding all the information on the planet, it made his eyes cross. Mostly, you just had to accept, like quantum physics, that it really did exist, even if you didn’t know what the hell it was.

  If there was a place that held all the world’s important information, he was about to use it to abandon his own ethics and violate someone’s right to privacy.

  His brother flung open the door. “Again! What’s with not using your key?”

  “I hate doing it.” Harry walked into the apartment and noticed that even after the big cleanup, the place was already morphing into Paul’s usual messy man-cave.

  His brother ambled into the kitchen and pulled a beer out of the refrigerator and gave it to him. Harry sprawled out on the sofa.

  “So is all of this real?” Harry took a long pull from the bottle. “Did you really find someone to help us?”

  “Yeah, it’s the woman I mentioned to you yesterday. Hell, you spoke to her on the phone.” Paul looked at his watch. “She should be here any time now.”

  “What’s she like?”

  “Are you kidding me, little brother? What are you expecting?”

  “I don’t know. Knowing you, it could be someone covered with tats and sporting a lot of face jewelry.” Harry laughed at the look on his brother’s disbelieving face. “Oh, come on, Paul. I’m pulling your leg. I don’t know what to expect.”

  “Well, she works in the union office around a lot of big bruisers, so you know she can take care of herself.”

  The door bell rang with an impatient dot...dot sound.

  “You can see for yourself.” Paul set his beer bottle on the coffee table and jumped up to open the front door. An attractive woman, somewhere in her early thirties, with an inquisitive tilt to her head, stepped inside. Her hair was drenched, as was the coat she was wearing.

  “Sheesh, is it ever gonna stop raining?”

  Paul took her coat, hung it on a hall closet door knob where it dripped water on the floor.

  “Christina, this is my brother, Harry.”

  She reached out and shook Harry’s hand, held onto for a long moment while she scrutinized his face. He was certain that whatever vibrations she got from her brief once-over would have a lot to do with her decision as to whether she would work with them.

  After a moment, Christina smiled, dropped his hand, plopped down next to him on the sofa. “How about a beer, Paul?” She turned to Harry. “I hear you’re a nurse?”

  “Guilty, as charged,” Harry said, smiling.

  “What kind of nursing do you do?”

  “I’m usually a travel nurse. You know, I work on contract for whoever needs me, most anywhere in the States. Right now, I’m working here at Ridgewood in ICU.”

  “Mmmm, my instincts tell me,” she said seriously, studying his face, “you’re top notch.”

  Harry didn’t realize just how tense he was until a long breath escaped his lips.

  * * *

  They’d been making small talk, eating a home-delivered pizza, and drinking beer for almost an hour when Christina said, “Okay, tell me exactly why you want into this guy’s files, Harry? I mean, it’s a challenge and fun, but also damn risky ... and as illegal as a physical B&E.”

  “Mainly, we’re sure this doctor has been cooking his books—not reporting income, which is really none of our business. But, we’re fairly certain that in the process of lining his pockets, he’s also performing unnecessary patient procedures.”

  “Yeah, well, I think doctors do that all the time, but they usually don’t get into trouble for it.” Tears suddenly filled her eyes. “My aunt died because she was pushed into an unnecessary surgery.” She sniffed, reached into her purse for a tissue, and blew her nose. “Couldn’t prove it, of course, even though I tried.”

  “Yeah,” Harry said, “malpractice isn’t easy to prove ... insurance companies make sure of that.”

  “Tell me more,” Christina said.

  Paul went back into the kitchen, asked if anyone wanted another beer.

  “Not me,” Harry said.

  “Christina?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Since unnecessary surgeries are hard to prove” Harry said, “we’re more interested in outing him for padding Medicare charges for procedures, and cheating insurance companies.”

  Christina gave him a squint. There was speculation in her eyes and her faint frown lines deepened.

  “You’re not giving me the whole story, are you Harry? Like, there’s something more going on here.”

  “No, no! This is what we need to know.”

  “Yeah, sure. And what else?” Christina took a long pull on her beer bottle. “I don’t dig that you’re doing this just to protect the government or insurance companies from being ripped off.” She shook her head from side to side. “Nope, I just don’t buy it.”

  Harry stared into her eyes. “You might not want to hear the rest of it.” Harry picked up another piece of pizza and tentatively took a bite.

  “Look, man, you know where I work ... and what Paul d
oes for a living.” She took another long pull from her beer bottle. “I won’t tell you where the dead bodies are buried, but I’ve got to know why I’m jumping into this, or I’m out. What you’ve told me here, well—”

  “—okay! Okay!” Harry said. “This doctor, along with everything else I’ve said, is involved in murder. We’re sure of it. Maybe more than one.” Harry leaned over, his face, up close. “Do you really want to know more?”

  Chapter 39

  Kat was terrified. She hung onto Cal’s arm as he drove her to Dr. Tallent’s office.

  “You don’t have to go inside with me,” she said, not wanting to let go of him. “I’m okay now. Really, I am.”

  But she wasn’t. She was spinning out of control and he was her anchor, her only anchor.

  “You don’t get it, do you, Kat?”

  She looked at him, wanting him to turn around and take her home.

  “I’m not leaving you. Do you understand? We’re doing this together.”

  When they walked into the waiting room, instead of the receptionist, a nurse in blue scrubs was waiting at the side of the desk. She smiled and motioned to Kat.

  “Hi,” the nurse said. “Are you Kathryn Parker?”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Great. I’m Dara.” She held out a hand. “Can I see your identification, please?”

  Kat fumbled through her purse and handed the nurse her driver’s license. The nurse checked it carefully, then looked at Kat and compared her face to the DMV photo before returning the license.

  The nurse reached for her hand. “Let’s ID you for the procedure, Kathryn.”

  “Call me Kat, please.”

  She held out her arm and the nurse wrapped a plastic identification bracelet around her wrist. It showed her name, Tallent’s name, and her A negative blood type.

  “I’m going to take you into the pre-op holding area and we’ll get you ready for your procedure.”

  Kat thought her heart would fly right out of her chest. “Can Cal come in with me?”

  “I’m sorry, Kat, but he’ll have to wait for you out here.”

  She turned to him. For a single moment, she thought about grabbing his hand and running—running far away.

  He came to her, took her in his arms, then held her at arm’s length and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

  She nodded and stepped away. The nurse kept the door open. Kat stopped, turned, and took one more look at Cal. She made her shaking fingers wave goodbye before following the nurse down the hallway.

  “When was the last time you had something to eat?”

  “About ten last night.”

  “Good,” the nurse said. “I’m sure Dr. Tallent explained the procedure, but I’ll go over it again for you after you’re changed.”

  Kat followed the nurse into a small room with a bench and two lockers—both doors were open. “Go ahead and undress, then put your clothes and purse inside one of the lockers. It’s secured by your own four-number pin.” She handed Kat a blue paper gown. “Opening’s in the back, of course. I’ll give you a few minutes to get ready.”

  When she was ready, she leaned against one wall and started to cry.

  I finally get my life together and now ... this.

  The nurse returned, took one look at Kat and wrapped her arms around her. “It’s going to be all right.”

  “How do you know that?” Kat said, choking up and swallowing her words. “I could die on that table.”

  Kat dropped down onto the bench; the nurse sat down beside her. “Look, we do these all the time. Yes, things can go wrong ... I’m sure Dr. Tallent talked to you about that. But the chances of that happening are very, very small. ”

  “We’re talking about me, so if anything can go wrong, it will.”

  The nurse took her hand and they walked a short distance to the pre-op holding area. “Now, let’s s get you down on this table and in a few minutes I’ll give you some meds to help you relax.”

  Flat on her back, Kat stared at the ceiling and started shaking.

  The nurse covered her with a warm blanket. “This will make you more comfortable.”

  It did make her feel better. She started to relax. “Thank you.”

  The nurse stepped up to a computer station, hit a few keys, and smiled. “I see you’re not on many medications. Are you allergic to anything—meds, foods. Anything at all?”

  “No.”

  Dr. Tallent walked into the room, without knocking. “She should be ready by now, Dara. Let’s get a move on.” Almost as an after though, he said, “How are you doing, Kat?”

  Before she could answer, he was out the door.

  The nurse’s face flushed. Kat turned away. “I’m going to start your IV. This will hurt for a moment,” Dara said.

  The needle did hurt. She tried to take deep breaths.

  “Will I be completely out?”

  “No, but you really won’t care about what’s going on.” The nurse laughed and taped down the needle. “We’re really good at that.”

  Kat watched the nurse inject medication into an IV port—almost instantly she felt a sense of relaxation.

  * * *

  Mort Tallent hardly slept the night before. He’d tossed and turned, angry at Vlad Folo’s silence. Lately, he couldn’t get rid of the guy, but now that he wanted to talk to him, had left several messages; there wasn’t a peep out of him.

  Tallent had decided—Vlad would have to get rid of Gina Mazzio. He knew if he didn’t, sooner or later she was going to go to the police. That nurse was not only nosey, she had a big mouth. It was stupid to confront her in that locker room at Ridgewood. Almost lost it—could have choked the life out of her.

  Don’t know what the fuck came over me. I should have left her alone. Let the gladiator get her off my back. Cough up the lousy fifty grand and stay out of the arena.

  He scrubbed in and watched the final preparations through the glass window that separated him from the Cardio Cath Lab.

  The nurse was doing a final check of the equipment, together with a specialist from X-Ray. The scrub nurse was arranging things on the sterile field, making sure all the necessary equipment was ready.

  Focus, man. Focus!

  * * *

  Kat kept floating in and out. Her eyes fluttered to stay open and she heard every word, every sound.

  The doctor said something about a sheath of some kind, and how they had to thread the catheter into her artery. Words floated around and away ... blood thinners ... contrast dye ... warm feeling ... angiogram ... flow measurement ... coronary arteries ... no narrowing ... no blockage. The words just ebbed and flowed without having any real meaning.

  * * *

  At first Tallent’s head was where it was supposed to be. He was focused—numbing the groin area, placing the sheath into the femoral artery, guiding the catheter to the heart with the aid of the fluoroscope, but after that his mind started wandering. A roar of pounding waves surged through his head—he was riding the big surf, down under a massive curl. He was hot, getting dizzy.

  “Doctor, are you all right?”

  “Yes! I’m fine! Let’s get on with it.”

  I can get through this. There’s nothing wrong here. I have to focus. Focus!

  But the roar of the surf was shutting out everything around him. He couldn’t hear, couldn’t think.

  Chapter 40

  Cal had been in and out of his chair for the past three hours. He couldn’t relax. He’d pick up a magazine, thumb through it for a few minutes, toss it back on the table, get up and pace some more.

  What the hell’s taking so long?

  More and more people came into the reception room; no one seemed to leave. All of the new arrivals were hesitant, appeared nervous and restless. None of it did anything to improve Cal’s mood. At first it had just been him—now there were several people doing the same magazine-pace-magazine-pace thing.

  He looked at the door to the inner sanctum.
Kat couldn’t be all that far away, but she might as well be on another continent, another planet.

  He closed his eyes, tried to close his mind to everything except good thoughts about Kat. He hadn’t known her all that long, but what he did know, he loved. She was good-natured, kind, and when they were together, she made him laugh, see a different world.

  A better world.

  He’d been divorced a long time and most of the women he’d met were far too involved in petty, useless interests. That, or desperate to find someone to hook up with. Kat wasn’t like that. She was a little older than the women he’d dated recently, but when people talked to her, she listened.

  She cared.

  He wasn’t used to walking down the streets handing out money to almost every indigent person who came up to them.

  “You know, they’ll only spend it on booze,” he’d said the first time she gave money to a

  panhandler.

  “I hear that a lot, Cal. But when I give money to someone, it’s not mine anymore. They’ll do whatever they have to do. It’s really not my business.”

  At first it irritated him, but he began to understand. She wasn’t there to judge—just to help.

  * * *

  Kat heard the nursing staff talking and moving about her—they weren’t paying attention to her and she knew that was probably a good thing.

  Happiness washed over her, along with gratitude. She was still alive.

  It must be over. I’m still here!

  Her right leg felt weird, though. It was numb and a sudden, strange sensation made her want to jump.

  “Dara!” she called out. “There’s something wrong with my leg.”

  The nurse came across the room, smiling. “Hi, glad to see you’re back to reality.”

  “There’s something wrong. It’s my leg.”

  The nurse, continuing to smile, lifted the light blanket covering Kat’s lower body. She removed a dressing and the smile faded.