Death of an Escort

by Nathan Pennington

  I was in a hospital. Why?

  What had happened? Oddly, nothing before this moment was clear to me. My impulse was to sit up, but I checked myself.

  I didn't know why I was here, or anything else for that matter. It was best to lie still and figure it out for the moment.

  I searched my memory for what had happened before I woke up here. Nothing came to me.

  Then I remembered the shooting at the business park. Had I been shot? I didn't remember getting shot. No, that wasn't it. I had taken that other guy out to the country and beat the snot out of him.

  After that I came back into town and went home . . . or did I? I didn't remember ever getting home. Attacked on the way? That didn't seem likely.

  A little panic crept into my mind. What if this was them? Had they done this?

  For a moment, I panicked.

  But I calmed myself down with the thought that I was still alive. A nurse's face bobbed into my vision overhead.

  "Hello," she said. "You're awake now."

  My only response was to blink, involuntarily.

  "How do you feel?"

  "Fine," I said. My voice sounded more like it came from a frog than from me.

  "You need some water," she said. She picked up a cup with a straw in it and held it to my lips. I drank half of the liquid.

  "Do you remember what happened?"

  "Yes," I lied.

  "Are you able to speak with a police officer? They've wanted to talk to you."

  "Okay," I said. She left.

  Moments later a police officer was bending down over me. He was wearing his cap and full uniform, but he looked tired, like he'd been up a long time.

  "Ray?" he asked.

  "Yes," I said softly.

  "I need to get your account of what happened."

  "Okay," I said. What had happened?

  A nurse turned the light on and the room brightened. The memory came back to me then. I flinched as if I was in pain, remembering. The almost inaudible clicking of the light switch brought it all back.

  "What do you remember?" the officer asked.

  "I was going to my office—"

  "What time?" he interrupted.

  "It was early."

  "Why? Is that the normal time you go there?" His questioning method was aggressive.

  "No," I said. "I'd been out all night."

  "Doing what?"

  "None of your business," I said.

  He frowned. "It might be."

  "I was out all night on business. I'm a private investigator."

  "I know what you are, Ray. What were you investigating last night?"

  "Officer," I said. "I'm not going to tell you what I was doing last night. I was working on an assignment. That's all."

  "Okay," he said. "So you went to your office at an abnormal time."

  "I did," I said. "And I went inside the building."

  "Did you notice anything odd or out of place?"

  "No . . . yes," I said. "There was a heating and air conditioning work van in the parking lot."

  "Why was that odd?"

  "What were they doing there at that time? I'd never seen that contractor there before."

  The policeman nodded and made notes. "What was the name of the company on the van?"

  "I don't remember for sure. It was a white van with black, block lettering. I think it was 'Township HVAC', but I'm not totally sure," I said.

  "Hmm," he said and made some notes. "What do you remember next?"

  "I went into my office. I turned the lights on."

  "And then?"

  "Something exploded."

  "A bomb?"

  "You tell me," I said. "What was it?"

  "It looks like some explosive was rigged to detonate when the power came to the light switch. You were supposed to be dead."

  "Yeah?" I said.

  "Yes," the officer said. "There was a fair amount of buckshot that was blasted around the room. Your office has been shredded. Even your desk looks like it went through a grinder."

  "What about me?"

  "You had emergency surgery this morning. Nothing big. It seems only four pellets lodged in you, and they were barely under the skin. You were really lucky, Ray."

  I sighed.

  "So, now you understand why it's important for me to know what you were doing, what you were investigating. We can't recover any files from your computer. It's destroyed. Someone was trying to kill you, and it may be connected to what you're working on."

  "I can't talk," I said.

  "This could be construed as obstructing justice," he warned.

  "Officer," I said. "I'm investigating the suicide of a woman. How would that have any connection to this?"

  "You tell me," he said.

  "There isn't any," I said. "They must have rigged the wrong office."

  The officer actually smiled. "You mean someone was trying to kill a lawyer or accountant? Or perhaps the tax preparation service downstairs?"

  "I don't know," I said.

  "I need to know Ray. What were you doing last night?"

  "Fine," I said. "I was staked out in front of the residence of the last person to see the suicide victim alive."

  "Where would this be?"

  I gave him the address.

  "And the name, please?"

  "Carlie Smith," I said.

  "Can anyone corroborate that you were there?"

  "No," I said. "When I do a stake out, no one knows I'm there. I'm good." It was all a lie, but it was a believable one, I thought.

  "Thank you, Ray." He got up and left.

  Everything had come back to me crystal clear now. Not only that, but I knew who it was who put the bomb in there.

  Chapter 15

  It was Mickey. Well, not him exactly, but he paid to have it done.

  The son-of-a-bitch was determined to kill me. More determined than I thought he was.

  I raised my head up a little and looked out. My door was open, and I saw some nurses and doctors walking by. It came to me that I was an easy target now. Here I was all laid up in the hospital. That son-of-a-bitch was going to try to kill me here.

  And it would happen soon.

  He'd not even waited more than several hours after the two guys failed. He'd had someone plant the bomb after I took the two guys out, but not much after.

  The police were gone now. Probably he had someone watching and knew that.

  Dread crept into my brain. I was going to die soon if I didn't act fast.

  The button to call a nurse had to be close by. I felt around and found the paddle that had the button on it.

  I pressed it.

  Seconds later a white-clad woman entered the room. "Yes?"

  "Has my wife been notified of my situation?"

  She looked confused. "Your wife?"

  Oh, right. There was no connection to her. She wasn't listed as an emergency contact. For that matter, no marriage license had been filed. I did all that to keep her separate and protected in case something like this happened.

  "Not my wife, my girlfriend, I mean," I said.

  "No, sir. We didn't find any emergency contact for anyone," she said.

  "Can you get me access to a phone?"

  "Yes, sir." She left and came back with a cordless phone.

  From memory I punched in the number of the disposable cell phone my wife carried.

  "Hello?" she answered.

  "Marline. It's Ray," I said. The nurse stepped back to give me privacy.

  "Where are you Ray? You're not answering your cell. What's going on?"

  "I'm in the hospital," I said.

  "What?" She sounded accusatory.

  "I need you to bring me something. Right away."

  "What happened?"

  I decided to be honest. "My office was blown up."

  "What?" She sounded even more accusatory. Like it was my fault. "Why?"

  "Someone is unhappy with me," I said.

  "Who?"

  "I'm working on
that," I said. "But I need a gun. Bring me a gun, and do it fast."

  "You're scaring me, Ray," she said.

  "I'm scared too," I said. "The bomb was actually the second attempt last night."

  "Ray! That's crazy. You need to get away," she said.

  "I'm going to deal with it as soon as I can," I said. "But I'm in the hospital right now."

  "You should have a police guard," she said.

  "No," I said. "I don't want the cops all over this. No cops. That will muddy things."

  "Didn't you have a gun with you?"

  "I did. And my brass knuckles, but they've got them right now, and it would look weird to ask for them right now. Besides, I was carrying them illegally."

  "Which gun do you want?" I could hear her rummaging around.

  "The Berretta 92," I said. "Do you know which one that is?"

  "I know it," she said. "Ray this is crazy."

  "It will be okay. Get me the gun right now. Get here fast."

  "You think something is going to happen now?" She was sounding frantic.

  "Yes. I do," I said.

  "Keep a nurse in the room, Ray. Do something," she said.

  "I intend to," I said.

  I could hear a car starting now. "I'm on my way," she said. Then her voice got lower. "Does this have anything to do with what happened with the cops and the shooting on the east side of town early this morning?"

  "No," I lied. "Get here fast."

  I held the phone out for the nurse. She came and took it. "It is all okay now?"

  "I got a hold of her," I said. "She's on her way, and she's bringing me something."

  She smiled and nodded. "Is there anything else you need?"

  I grimaced. "I feel funny asking this," I said. "But could someone wait with me until she gets here? She's on her way."

  "I can stay for a few minutes," she said. "Let me put the phone back."

  She left. I tried to stretch my neck and look further into the hall either way.

  Someone was out there. I could feel it. Someone was watching. Someone was going to make a move. Who was it? And where were they?

  I couldn't see anything.

  The nurse returned. She waited with me the next ten minutes until a frazzled looking Marline burst through the door. She was holding a small bundle that looked like a change of clothes.

  The nurse left.

  My wife came over to me. "I've got the gun in the change of clothes," she said.

  "Thanks," I said.

  "What happened?"

  "I can't talk about it right now, and you need to get out of here," I said.

  "I just got here," she said.

  "And you might have been seen," I said.

  "Someone is watching?" She looked around.

  "I don't know. I'd guess so, seeing how last night went."

  "Maybe it's time to get a job," she said. "Forget this private eye stuff."

  "Right and maybe I should grow a third arm too. That's more likely," I said. "I'm not working for someone else."

  "Why do you need the gun?" She put her face close to me. "Is something really going to happen here?" Her voice had gone down to a whisper.

  I leaned up a little and kissed her on the lips. When I lay back down, I saw her eyes had closed.

  "Ray," she said breathily. "I need you."

  "I know," I said. "Me too. Right now I need you to get out of here. That's the safest thing. And get out of town. That would be best."

  "Leave town? How big is this?"

  "Big enough," I said. "Don't you have a cousin in Oklahoma?"

  "That's a day's drive away," she said.

  "That's far enough away you might be safe," I said.

  I fished into the bundle of clothes. The cold feel of the metal on my skin was welcome. I slid out the semi-automatic pistol and put it under the sheet.

  "And what about at night? You won't sleep, will you?"

  I shook my head. "Not while I'm here."

  "How long is this going to go on?" she asked.

  "Once I'm out of here—I will put an end to it," I said. She recoiled from me a bit. The viciousness with which I said it must have frightened her a little. Well, God damn it, I hate people that try to kill me. And this little turd, Mickey Richardson, he was a nobody. I'd fix him myself, and wipe him right out of the picture. Permanently.

  She leaned down and kissed me again. It felt good. I really loved that woman.

  "Now, I'm serious," I said. "Get yourself to your cousin's place. Far away."

  She didn't acknowledge.

  "Are you listening?"

  "But," she said. "But what if something happens to you while I'm gone?"

  "You wouldn't have been able to stop it, even if you were here. But if you're gone, then you'll be safe. Okay?"

  She still didn't confirm.

  "Marline?"

  "I'll go," she said.

  "Right now," I said. "Leave right now."

  "Is it really that bad? That dangerous?" she asked.

  I didn't know for sure. "Play it safe and assume it is."

  Finally she nodded. "Goodbye."

  I let my head relax back into the pillow. For the first time I was feeling the pain. Whatever pain meds they'd given me, they were wearing off. That was fine. I could take the pain. Besides, I wanted to know how much I was hurt. I needed to know that so I could gauge how much longer I'd need to stay here.

  The sooner I could get out the better. I felt so vulnerable and open here.

  My eyelids closed. I felt like I needed sleep, but I couldn't. If I did, then I could be disposed of easily. And I was still sure there was someone nearby watching and waiting for a chance.

  If only that person would show himself . . . if only.

  I blinked my eyes open. I had fallen asleep.

  A sound of movement came near my head to the left. It was a foot on the ground.

  Someone was in the room. As imperceptibly as I could, I raised my head. The door to the room had been closed.

  I put my hand down on the pistol, and I tried to grip it, but I couldn't. The hand had gone numb. That was the hand that the IV ran into. The rest of me felt okay, but that hand had gone limp. It seemed it was spreading up my arm.

  Forget subtlety. I hinged on my left side and reached up with my right hand and got a handful of white lab coat. The guy grunted and something he was carrying dropped to the ground as I yanked him on my bed.

  A syringe needle was in his right hand. He'd injected something into my IV tube. This boob was the one. He was trying to poison me with something.

  I reached down under him trying to find the paddle that would call the nurse. He flailed, and tried to regain his balance as he was suspended over top of me on the two railings on either side of the bed.

  Finally he rolled over to his stomach and off the rails. His full weight came down on my legs.

  I got the paddle that called the nurse and yanked it up into view. The wires had been cut. The paddle was in my hand, and it was by itself, totally free of the cord.

  Chapter 16

  My right hand still worked and I fumbled around for the gun. I could feel it against my leg. It had slipped down lower than I thought it was.

  The guy, he was dressed like a nurse, got to his feet off my left side and picked up whatever he'd dropped when I grabbed him.

  Finally, I got the gun in my right hand. I pulled it out from under the sheets.

  The guy's head popped up, and he saw he was staring right down the barrel. He froze.

  "What did you inject?" I said.

  He stared at me. Without a doubt, he was trying to figure out his next move. I'd got him trapped like a wild animal, and he was about to do something dangerous.

  I didn't really want to shoot a gun in a hospital room, but I wasn't going to let this guy do me in either.

  I saw someone walk by outside in the hallway. There was a skinny, floor-to-ceiling window next to the door. I saw the person through that.

  "Hey!" I yelle
d as loud as I could. "I need help! Hey! Someone, help!" My voice raised in volume to the level of hysterical.

  The guy looked panicked now. I saw his eyes shift behind me. There was a window there. Was he thinking of jumping out?

  Then he turned and dashed for the door. It opened before he got there.

  Quickly, I shoved the gun under the sheets. I got it under my body.

  The door hit the guy and knocked the small case out of his hands again. It clanked to the floor, but he didn't bother to pick it up.

  With great force, he took the female nurse off her feet as he barreled out of the room. I heard the echo of his steps receding down the hallway.

  There was a bang as the stairway door was opened too hard and it smashed against the wall. The sounds died away as he rushed down the stairway and made his escape.

  The female nurse was shaken and several of her co-workers came to help her up.

  My entire left arm was numb now.

  "Hey," I said. "I need help."

  They looked at me. A male nurse stepped into my room. "What happened?"

  "He injected me with something. It's making my arm go numb."

  "What was it?" another nurse asked.

  "Who was he?" the original nurse asked.

  "I think it might be a toxin. Lethal," I said.

  "Why do you think that?" the male nurse asked.

  "It's an educated guess," I said. "And he dropped that case of whatever by the door."

  I could see now that it looked like a small, black fishing tackle box. The male nurse opened it up.

  "I've got the stuff here," he said. Then he said something medical sounding that I didn't catch.

  "What?" I asked.

  "It's a strong sedative. And in extreme quantities, it can stop a heart from beating."

  "What can you do about it?" I asked.

  "We've got to get you up to intensive care now. I don't know how much he got into you, but if it was a lot, we'll have to get you on a heart machine and respirator quickly."

  They were going to find my gun. That wouldn't be good. Quickly I began scanning for some place I could stash it, and then it came to me.

  "Real quick," I said. "Can you hand me the bundle of clothes my wife left me?" I pointed to the neat bundle that sat on the chair by the bathroom door to the left.

  The male nurse got it for me.

  "How is she?" I said and indicated out in the hall where the other two were still with the nurse that had been knocked down.