The Girl In the Morgue

by D. D. VanDyke

  Macey gave a shrug. “Your goons could easily have removed something from the scene.”

  “You can speculate all day long. You have witnesses who saw us fight and must have been able to tell you all we had were our rented swords and shields, which were on us when I collapsed. Bottom line, you know we didn’t kill Potoczek, so quit wasting time saying we did.”

  Macey’s mouth was a thin, unmoving line. She glanced at her partner.

  Sonny Raymer spoke up, as if on cue. “There’s no evidence Corwin had any other weapon.”

  Macey gave him a poisonous glare, but to Cal, it seemed contrived. Good cop, bad cop? “Whether you guys were the ones who stabbed Potoczek or not,” Macey eventually said, “You shouldn’t have been there.”

  “It had nothing to do with your investigation.”

  “Now who’s bullshitting?”

  “I went to the battle because it sounded fun. Potoczek invited me and it seemed like something I would enjoy. Who doesn’t like a bit of smash’em, bash’em?”

  “Potoczek invited you?” Macey’s eyes narrowed.

  “Yeah.” Cal considered this angle. Despite her initial successes, she’d been badly injured at the battle. Was her good start beginner’s luck? Or had someone tossed her some softballs to make her overconfident? Ortiz said that she could have died. Had one or more of the fighters who had attacked Cal on the field been recruited by Potoczek? The big guy, maybe? Perhaps the only reason he had invited her to the battle was to get her out of the way, but something had gone wrong and he was the one who ended up getting killed. Someone else had the idea that the battlefield would be the ideal place to dispatch someone. “You think he wanted me there for a reason.”

  “Why would he invite you? Just because he thought you’d have fun?” Macey shook her head. “I’ll admit that I don’t understand these Society people, running around dressed up like they’re at a costume ball, but it seems a little odd, Potoczek inviting you to this mock battle and then both of you getting seriously injured.”

  Cal closed her eyes. She had a sensation of vertigo, as if someone had lifted up one side of the bed to dump her out. She grabbed the side rails.

  “So I might have been a target, or I might have been a fall guy. Nobody counted on me bringing the M&Ms along, though. And if I were supposed to be the patsy, someone would have planted evidence implicating me, but there wasn’t any. Right?”

  The two cops stared at her until Raymer shook his head. Macey looked as if it pained her to agree. “Nope. Except circumstantial.”

  Cal said, “Potoczek…do you have any evidence that he was still…participating in criminal activities?”

  Macey offered nothing. Raymer looked at her and kept his mouth shut as well.

  Cal took that as a yes. “Drugs? Weapons? Black market? Was he connected?”

  “You know we can’t comment. And now that he’s dead, what does it matter? One more scumbag off the streets.”

  “Ah, so he was a scumbag in your book. If Potoczek was trying to shut me up or get me off the case, I want to know why. What was his involvement? Was Jenna killed on his orders? Or was he a middleman, and now he’s a broken link to whoever really did give the orders?”

  “We haven’t found any indication of that. Besides, what’s the motive to kill Miss Duncan?”

  “So you’ve moved off Randy and finally decided to look at other possibilities?”

  Macey growled, “Let’s just say we’re looking at everything.”

  “That’s progress. But if you’re not willing to share anything with me, why should I share anything with you?”

  “Because we’re the police and we’re investigating what happened to you too. I would think you’d want to cooperate with that.”

  “Investigating what happened to me? You’ve been asking about Potoczek, not me.”

  “It’s all part of the same investigation.”

  Cal rolled her aching eyes and found herself running out of the thin line of energy she’d been clinging to. “Look…I’m tired. I’m concussed. I’m doped up on painkillers. If you want to tell me what you’ve found out about who injured me and whether it was intentional, that would be really great. Otherwise, we’re done here. And don’t come back until you can answer questions as well as ask them, unless you want me to lawyer up.”

  They left.

  Cal slept.

  When Cal next woke up, it wasn’t Manson sitting in the chair beside her bed, but Starlight. Cal blinked, waiting for her mother’s form to fade away, a hallucination, but she remained solid.

  Cal took a covert glance around to make sure that her father wasn’t there too. In the state she was in, he very well could have been. That was when he had started appearing to her; after the bomb explosion, while she was recuperating in the hospital. When she’d initially mentioned it to the doctors, they had said it wasn’t unusual to hallucinate after the type of trauma she’d experienced. They hadn’t suggested she might continue to have visions of her dead father years after her recovery, though.

  “Mom?”

  Starlight looked up from her book and smiled at Cal. “Hey, Callie, how’re you feeling?”

  Cal evaluated. “Sore. Better. They’ve been pumping me full of painkillers, but I can still feel it. In the background. But it’s just a couple of contusions. Nothing bleeding or broken. Except fingers.” Cal looked at the splints ruefully. “But those will heal.”

  “You’re underplaying it, honey. The doctor said you had swelling in your brain.”

  “Yeah. I know. A concussion.”

  “They were talking about operating. But the pressure finally started going down.”

  Cal looked over at the machines, trying to interpret the numbers and other indicators. “Did it? That’s good. I don’t think I was awake for that.”

  “No, you’ve been sleeping. The doctor said once the pressure went down you could sleep as much as you wanted.”

  “That’s good.”

  “And your heart was bruised.”

  “Bruises will heal. What day is it? Was the fight just yesterday?”

  Starlight shrugged. “A couple of days ago,” she said vaguely.

  “How did you hear? The doctor wouldn’t know to call you. And Meat and Manson…I guess they could find your phone number…or talk to Mickey…”

  “One of them knew Sergei’s man. The one who was shot at the house. Ros-something.”

  “Yes, of course I remember. Rostislav.” Cal’s answer was irritable, even though she knew Starlight had meant no offense. She wasn’t so scrambled that she couldn’t remember Rostislav getting shot while trying to protect the two of them. Sometimes her mother put on this dopey act…unless maybe she really was dopey. Cal sniffed for the telltale aroma of maryjane, but didn’t detect anything, and Starlight was too far away to see if her pupils were dilated.

  “So he called Rostislav. And Rostislav called Sergei…” Starlight shrugged her shoulders. “They knew he was the client. And a friend. They didn’t know that I would be there, but it all worked out.” Starlight gave a little laugh. “Just the way the universe wanted.”

  “Well, good for the universe. Would be nice if the universe stepped forward to keep this kind of thing from happening in the first place. You know. Balance the scales. I do a lot of good, putting bad people behind bars.”

  “Violence begets violence,” Starlight said. “If you want peace and protection from the universe, you have to stop doing violence to others. Lay down your weapons. Make a promise of peace. Then keep your word.”

  “I need those weapons to protect myself—and you, remember? You and your baseball bat, which is a weapon, by the way. You see how far people are willing to go to stop me from doing my job. I can’t just stop carrying and expect the universe to protect me.”

  Starlight opened her mouth to say something, but Cal spoke over her. “Because that’s just crazy. All of the prayers and incantations and herbs in the world aren’t going to stop the violence. It’s my job to protect
others. You know it is, Mom. It’s what I’ve always done. What I’ve always wanted to do. That’s why I was put on this planet. Just like it’s your thing to—to be the way you are.” She almost said something much meaner, but caught herself.

  Starlight had stopped trying to talk. She sat in silence for a few moments, waiting to see if Cal was done. She sighed. “Don’t call me Mom. You know how I feel about the patriarchal structure.”

  “Not to mention the matriarchal.”

  Starlight didn’t think it was funny. “You have a head injury, so I’m going to assume that’s why you’re being such a smartass when I’m here to support you.”

  Cal’s heart gave a painful throb, and she didn’t know whether it was because of the chest contusion or guilt over the way she was behaving toward her mother. And it was interesting that Starlight was sticking up for herself instead of deflecting as she usually did. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I know you hate it here, in the hospital among all this artificiality, but you’re here anyway. I’m sorry, Starlight.”

  Starlight brightened a little at the use of her preferred name, a victory Cal let her have. “I burned incense and herbs for you,” she said. “And offered prayers and meditations for you. That’s when the swelling started to go down and they said they wouldn’t have to do the surgery.”

  Cal bit her tongue to keep from saying anything sarcastic. She tried to answer like her father would have. He’d had a special relationship with Starlight. Even though he was more pragmatic, like Cal, he’d had the ability to talk to his wife on her own terms without pretense or derision. “Thank you for going to all of that effort. I appreciate it.” Even if she didn’t believe in all of her mother’s nonsense, she could appreciate that Starlight really thought she was doing good. “I just hope you weren’t burning those herbs in the hospital restroom. You wouldn’t want to get arrested.”

  She couldn’t help the little tease, but jokes about “medical” marijuana didn’t bother Starlight nearly as much as jabs about her opinions on the ills of society.

  She shook her head solemnly. “I know better than to smoke pot in the hospital. I’ll have to see if Sergei has something when I get back there. I don’t have any at home.”

  Cal chuckled. “All the other kids did drugs to rebel. Me, if I wanted to rebel I had to abstain. You know how hard that was? All my high school friends wanted me to steal your dope so they could smoke it.”

  “You never would smoke weed with me, and you were never a thief.”

  “No. Well, I did steal your cigarettes, one or two at a time. I told myself it was for your own good. That I’d smoke them for you.”

  Starlight nodded as if she approved. “See? You have a good heart.” Her mother patted her own chest. “In here, not the muscle. A joint would do you good right now, anyway. For pain and nausea, way better than all of those pharmaceuticals they have you on. Pan be praised California is enlightened enough to have medical herb.”

  “I don’t think I should be smoking in my condition. Besides, I’m not really mobile right now.”

  “I could bring you something edible. I’ll bake brownies.”

  Even if Cal had wanted some brownies for medicinal purposes, she had learned long ago that Starlight’s baked goods were hit and miss. More miss than hit. She didn’t jump at the offer. “You’d better not bring anything like that here. What if one of the nurses decided to try one?”

  “Maybe she’d have a really good shift.” Starlight managed to remain earnest as she smiled. “Maybe one of these pharma-drones would get turned on to reality.”

  “I hardly think dope is reality.”

  Starlight lifted her hand to wave in all directions. “And this horrible, sterile place is? You need natural things around you.”

  “Right now, I think what I need most is rest.” Cal yawned, and rested her sore eyes, letting her lids close.

  “Yes, that’s what that cute doctor said.”

  Cal forced her eyes open again. “What? What cute doctor?”

  “That little Hispanic girl. She seems quite taken with you.”

  “Ortiz? What do you mean, taken? She’s not my type. I mean, she’s not even the gender I like. I don’t like girls. Not that way.” Shut up, Cal, she told herself. Mother sleeps with anyone on a whim, and that’s not me.

  Then she admitted to herself she hadn’t slept with anyone since Thomas, even with some good opportunities available. Not for the first time did it occur to her that she was being prudish—cautious, really—as a counterpoint to her mother’s sheer promiscuity.

  “You are entirely too picky, Callie. If you don’t want that nice police officer, and you don’t want a smart, successful woman like Dr. Ortiz, what do you want? Because I don’t know where you’re going to find it.”

  “Oh, Mom. Give it up. We’re different, you and me.” Cal tried to hide her discomfiture. She did want Tanner Brody. Or at least, she thought she should, but he didn’t hold the same attraction for her as Thomas. Brody was a good second choice. But while he was fun, and all of the things that she would have said she was looking for in a man, she couldn’t seem to convince her heart.

  Cal sent a quick glance around the room to make sure that her father wasn’t there. He’d shown up too many times lately when she had men on the mind. “I don’t know what I want,” Cal said more calmly. “How did you know you wanted to marry Dad? What made you choose him?”

  Starlight’s eyes became distant. Cal could almost hear the sound of John Lennon’s guitar playing in the background, and her vision clouded up. She really needed to get more sleep before she started hallucinating not only her father, but a whole roomful of aging hippies.

  “Your father was something special,” Starlight said. “He was different from any other man I met. He was…I can’t even think of a word to describe what attracted me to him. Just his self…his essence. Opposites attract, maybe. He was the same, but different. He believed in things, things he wanted to do, things he wanted for the world. He wanted to make it a better place. And he wanted me.”

  “Lots of guys wanted you. And a few girls, you told me.”

  “Nobody wanted me. Nobody got me except your father. The others wanted my body for some free love, and that was fine, and fun-frolicky. It didn’t mean anything. He was the only man I made someone with, and that was you. And then my little surprise Elrond. Too bad after you two I couldn’t have any more.”

  Cal sighed. “I haven’t found anyone like that yet. Maybe I never will.”

  “Just because you haven’t found Mister Right doesn’t mean you can’t have Mister Right Now. Or Miz. When someone like Dr. Ortiz comes along…there’s no harm…”

  “God, Mom, get off the lesbian thing, will you?”

  Starlight sighed. “Oh, Callie. You always were so uptight and weird.”

  “Me? I’m weird?” Cal’s face heated and the heart monitor sped noticeably. Starlight looked at it with amusement. “Like you and Uncle Sergei?” Cal said.

  “Sergei has an essence too,” Starlight said slowly. “Not the same as your father. But…I’m happy around him. He makes me feel…safe. And we knew each other a long time ago. So when I’m with him, I feel…younger.”

  Cal closed her eyes. “That’s good,” she approved. “I want you to be happy. Thanks for coming by, Mommy Starlight. I think I’ll rest now.”

  Yeesh.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cal spent a lot of time sleeping, far more than she intended. She became impatient with herself, wanting to get up out of bed and get back to work, but her body was thoroughly uncooperative. As much as she wanted to get back to her normal life, her brain and her heart, two critical organs, needed a chance to heal.

  Sometimes Starlight was there. Sometimes Meat or Manson came by. They talked to her about the case, but Cal couldn’t remember details from one conversation to the next, and feared she hadn’t absorbed much of what they told her.

  Once when she woke up she found Mickey beside the bed, looking her over
worriedly like an overweight basset hound. Cal wondered if that had been a dream or hallucination. What would Mickey be doing there in the hospital? He rarely left his cave at her office except to go home to his mother for a couple of meals, or to get fresh laundry when Cal ordered him to.

  She hoped she would also dream about Thomas, but he failed to appear in her visions or her hospital room.

  Cal awoke with a start and a snort and looked around to see who had come into the room. When she opened her eyes, she saw Rostislav. Not who she’d expected, but not someone menacing. Not to her. In fact, he’d seemed quite taken with her since he got shot, to borrow a phrase from Starlight. He was a mountain of a man, four hundred pounds of muscle and fat, with arms bigger than Cal’s thighs.

  “Hey,” she greeted, trying to push herself up in the bed, eventually finding the control that sat her upright. She looked down at her gown to make sure she was presentable and adjusted it. “What are you doing here?”

  “You come to see me when I was in hospital,” he said. “Is only right I come visit you.”

  “Okay, sure. Why don’t you sit down? You’re too tall.” She bit her lip. You’re too tall? Was it still the concussion talking? Her head had been feeling better lately, and she wasn’t going to be able to blame it for everything stupid she said for much longer.

  Rostislav seemed to take it in stride. He scraped the visitor chair along the floor closer to her and sat down. “You are looking better,” he said, tilting his head slightly to assess her.

  “Better? Were you here before?”

  “Yes. I was here before. While you sleep. I did not stay and watch you sleep,” he assured her. “I wait for a few minutes, then I leave.”