Respect. She missed that. The habit once gave her implicit respect. She deserved respect still. Could she look at Frank and still believe that? No... but she could look at Captain Hogarth. He knew she deserved it.
“All right.”
“I knew it.” Aida rolled a wheelchair away from the wall.
Giulia sat in it—which her stitched-up hands made more difficult than she’d expected. Aida wheeled her into the hallway and parked her next to Blake, also in a wheelchair. A gauze pad covered a few inches of his neck.
Captain Hogarth came out of the room facing Giulia and banged shut the door. “Ms. Falcone, I promise to look the other way if you’d like to punch Falke again.” He blew out a long breath. “When he’s not cursing you and Frank, he’s demanding to take possession of his sister’s body. Seems to think he’s his own law.”
“He’s Urnu the Snake.”
Frank propped himself against the wall. “You said that before. What’s it mean?”
“Frank, wait your turn.” Hogarth set his laptop on a supply cart beneath a sprinkler. “Ms. Falcone, can you start at the point where you entered your bedroom this evening?”
Giulia detailed Sandra’s threats and Blake’s incoherent words. Next to her, Blake started to blush, but the greenish walls and fluorescent lighting disguised it.
“When she got... into... seducing Mr. Parker, I thought I could get the knife away from her and get out to call for help. That’s when Urnu the Snake grabbed me.”
Hogarth held up one hand and typed a few more words with the other. “If it’s an alias, it’s not in our database. How is Donald Falke also Urnu—spelled U-r-n-u? How is he Urnu the Snake?”
“It’s his Combat Realm character. He’s the leader of the Raging Death Clan.”
Frank laughed. “You’re kidding. Raging Death? What is he, a teenager who never grew up?”
Blake said, “Sandra told me about it once. He started playing the game when their parents split. She thought it was just an outlet for his anger. He kept with it, though, and gathered a following. They used to meet in this old farmhouse he renovated. She never knew where he got the money for that.”
“He controls them. Maybe he controls their money, too.” Giulia started to wrap her arms around her waist. “Ow. Can’t do that.”
“Let’s get back to this evening, Ms. Falcone. You said Donald Falke grabbed you? Where was he?”
“Hiding in my closet, I guess.”
“Yes, he was.” Blake’s cell phone vibrated. “I’m supposed to turn that off in here, aren’t I?” He opened it, hit End without checking the screen, and shut it down. “When they tied me to Ms. Falcone’s bed, I was still high on whatever they gave me, so I didn’t understand what they said to each other. But Don stuck this weird metal thing on the bedroom door, like an extra lock or something, and Sandy knelt down and kissed Don’s snake tattoo. Then she gave him a blow job.”
Giulia inhaled sharply. “Raging Death.”
“Explain, please,” Hogarth said, typing.
“Urnu uses sex for power in his game cult. I saw them in that Net bar on Quaker Circle. The cult likes to show off for their groupies. Scott told me about it.”
“Scott?”
“I had a date Friday. He took me there.”
Frank burst out, “And if you—”
“Frank.” Hogarth’s frown caused Frank to swallow whatever he’d started to say. “Mr. Parker, what did both Falkes do after that?”
“Don hid in the closet, and Sandy read a big book from the nightstand. When Ms. Falcone came home, Sandy hid behind the bedroom door and locked it as soon as Ms. Falcone came into the room.”
“She read my Bible?”
“If that’s what the big book is. Sandy always had this weird religious streak.”
Giulia wondered what Blake would think of her religious background. Or if he even cared. He might not wonder anymore why she was still a virgin, if he knew. “Urnu threw me onto the floor and trapped me in a scissor hold. He pulled my hair so I had to look up and told me he’d staged this for me.”
Aida came out from the exam room and piled ointment, gauze, and ibuprofen packets in Giulia’s lap. “In case you don’t have them at home, honey. Insurance covers these supplies anyway. Be back in a minute with a bag.” She walked through the door at the far end of the hall.
Giulia’s heart glitched. “I never thought about that. I don’t have insurance any more. I can’t pay for any of this.”
Frank’s frown rivaled one of Hogarth’s. “What are you talking about? Of course you have insurance. I gave the receptionist all the information she needed.”
“But we agreed.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
Hogarth cleared his throat. “I knew it was too good to be true, Ms. Falcone. What happened after Donald had you on the floor?”
Giulia couldn’t process it. Frank hated her. He thought she used sex as power, just like Urnu. Oh, God, no. She was the polar opposite of Urnu. But Frank didn’t—
“Ms. Falcone?” Hogarth had his teddy-bear expression again.
Later. Think about it later. “Um... He said he took the photos and doctored them. He bragged about his computer skills. Do you know about the photos?”
“Frank told me. Go on.”
She didn’t want to describe this. Not in this public hall with janitors and doctors and nurses walking by every few minutes.
Blake said, “I can help.”
Blake wanted to make things easy for her? Like she wasn’t sub-human? Was Hell freezing over?
“Sandy climbed on top of me, but Don called her over and she went, just like a dog.” Blake shrugged. “For a woman who liked to control, she sure knew who her master was. She slapped Ms. Falcone several times, and then the two of them took off her clothes.”
“Go dtachta an diabhal iad.”
Hogarth stopped typing. “Frank, speak English.”
“Never mind.” Frank looked up as the opposite door opened.
Giulia took a steadying breath. “I can finish. Urnu told Sandra to have Mr. Parker watch and then said he was going to punish me for, for biting instead of sucking.”
“Did he explain that? Frank, what’s the problem now?”
Frank stared at Urnu being wheeled out of the room across from Giulia by a muscular male nurse. Handcuffs fastened Urnu’s wrists to the arms of the wheelchair. His swollen face already had the beginnings of bruises, but they didn’t affect his teeth-baring smile.
“Your little virgin looks good naked, Driscoll. Think of my hands on her if you ever get her into bed.”
Giulia never saw Frank move. One moment he was leaning against the wall next to her. The next moment Captain Hogarth and Blake were dragging him off Urnu, and Urnu’s mouth was gushing blood.
“Bastard! Let go, Jimmy—I’m gonna beat the shit out of him!”
Hogarth shoved Frank’s shoulder against the wall. “Frank! Get a hold of yourself!”
“He’s the bastard who tried to rape Giulia in the park. Let go of me, Jimmy!”
Blake put his weight against Frank’s other shoulder. “You can’t fight both of us at once. Back down.”
Hogarth jerked his head at Urnu. “Nurse, get the prisoner out of here and tape his mouth shut, will you?”
Urnu spat, and a tooth clinked onto the floor. “Tell him, virgin—tell him how I’ll mount you in front of Raging Death. Tell him how I’ll cut out your heart and eat it—”
Hogarth kicked Urnu’s wheelchair. “Shut up, freak, or we’ll let Frank go and I won’t officially see anything he does to you.”
The nurse stopped gaping and wheeled Urnu backward into the exam room, as Pamela van Alstyne barreled through the double doors at the end of the hall.
“Blake! Blake, darling, are you all right?” She launched herself at him. “I got a speeding ticket because of you, you ridiculous man. What happened? Oh—your neck—is it serious? Do you need a transfusion? I don’t know my blood type, but I’m sure our family d
octor does.” She clutched Blake and wept into his collar.
Blake looked over her head at Frank and Hogarth. He’d lost his grip on Frank when Pamela crashed into him, but both men were gawking at Pamela anyway.
“Pammy, it’s not serious. The crazy stalker stabbed me, but I’m all stitched up now.”
“Stabbed you? Oh, Blake, when the policeman called I thought you were going to die.” She stopped sobbing and raised a beautiful, tear-streaked face to him. “I thought I was going to die. You’re never leaving my side again, Blake Parker, do you hear me? Never.”
Pamela extracted a lace-edged handkerchief from a minuscule evening bag and wiped her eyes. Then she held out her hand to Frank. “Mr. Driscoll, thank you so much for explaining those evil photographs to me. I was such a jealous fool.”
She turned to Giulia. “Ms. Falcone, please accept my apologies. I allowed my emotions to override my common sense.”
Giulia was sure she just heard Pamela say Frank had told her the photos were faked. She held up her bandaged hands. “I’m afraid I can’t shake hands, but of course I accept your apology.” It must have been a trick of her ears.
“Ms. Falcone, whatever happened to you?”
Blake put his arm around Pamela. “She’s a hero, Pammy. Sandra and her brother kidnapped me. Ms. Falcone was injured trying to get a knife away from Sandra.”
“Sandra Falke was stalking us?” Pamela’s elegant nose wrinkled. “I should have known. Of all your dalliances, she was the only one without a pedigree.”
A coughing fit struck Hogarth. Frank slapped Hogarth’s back, and they both turned and faced the wall.
“Ms. Falcone, I don’t know how to thank you. You’ll come to our wedding, of course. And if there’s ever anything we can do for you, don’t hesitate to contact us.” She touched her cheek to Giulia’s and kissed the air near Giulia’s ear. “Can we go home, Blake? I’ll have Pilar make gambas pil pil just for the two of us. I know how much you like them.”
Blake grinned. “Frank, you’ll have a check tomorrow morning. A wedding invitation, too. Ms. Falcone, thank you.” He leaned over her chair and spoke in Giulia’s ear as Pamela replaced the handkerchief in her bag. “You’re one helluva woman.”
He kissed Pamela’s hand before he returned to his wheelchair. “I’m all yours, Pammy.”
Pamela didn’t stoop to a girlish giggle, but Giulia detected a touch of foolishness in her smile. She pushed him into the reception area and the doors swung closed behind them.
Giulia blew out a breath. “Frank, I don’t think all of Blake’s drugs wore off yet. He just spoke to me as an equal.”
Hogarth finally stopped choking. “Dalliances? Pedigree? Was the woman serious?”
Frank didn’t smile. “Big of him, Giulia. Yes, Jimmy, she was. I’m amazed she condescended to talk to me this morning. Being the hired help and all.”
Hogarth leaned on the supply cart and reread the last sentences on his laptop screen. “Ms. Falcone, you were finishing your report when that touching reunion happened. I’d like to get you and Frank out of here before I transport the snake to jail. What happened after you realized he was the one who attacked you in the park last week?”
Almost done. Then maybe she’d never have to think about Urnu again. “When he was watching his sister for a minute I worked my arm free—he’d tangled my sweater around my arms and they were stuck above my head—I hit his nose. I don’t know how much force I put behind that one, but he lost his balance and then I punched his nose as hard as I could.” She almost smiled. “Did I really break it?”
“You did. I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to do more. Then what happened?”
“His sister attacked me with her knife. That’s when I fell into the closet doors and broke them. Urnu grabbed my ankle and Sandra slashed me. I heard Frank yelling in the hall and kicking my door, and I grabbed her wrists. Then Frank was at the bedroom door and I almost got away, but she came at me again and I missed my grip and grabbed the knife blade instead.”
“When I busted in, Falke’s brother grabbed my ankle and I kicked him.” Frank took a tongue depressor from the supply cart and tapped it erratically on the cart’s metal rim. “Knocked his head against the wall, I guess, because he stayed out for a while. I warned Falke to get off Giulia. Instead, she pulled the knife free and tried to plant it in Giulia’s chest. That’s when I shot her.”
Hogarth typed for another minute and closed the laptop. “That should do it for tonight. Frank, I’ll start the mountain of paperwork you’ll need to fill out because of the shooting. You’ve got Parker and Ms. Falcone as witnesses, so it won’t be much more than a giant pain in the ass. Stop in to the station tomorrow for all that. Call Parker and tell him to come down, too.”
“Got it.”
“Ms. Falcone, you’re a strong lady. Make sure you tell Frank just how lucky he is to have you.” He kissed Giulia’s cheek. “And remember, if you ever want a better job—”
Frank pushed Giulia’s wheelchair past Hogarth. “Good night, Jimmy. Thanks, Jimmy. See you tomorrow, Jimmy.”
“Wait, Frank.” Giulia twisted in the wheelchair. “Captain Hogarth, thank you for everything. And I really am unemployed—”
“No, you’re not.” Frank spun her chair around and backed her through the doors to the main entrance. “I’m just getting my car. Don’t go anywhere.”
Giulia stayed put because exhaustion had planted a sixteen-ton weight on her chest.
“You okay, honey?” Aida returned and scooped all the supplies into a blue plastic hospital bag.
“Just tired.”
“The cops took the psycho out another door and off to jail, so you won’t have to hear his foul mouth anymore.”
That lifted half the weight. “Oh. Good.” Giulia smiled up at her. “When’s your next night off?”
“Wednesday, honey. Why?”
“I told you. Girls’ night out. First drink’s on me.” Giulia stopped smiling. “That is, I mean, I’m not trying to push you, I just want to thank you for how kind you’ve been.”
Aida stooped and hugged her—gently. “Honey, I can count on two fingers the patients who’ve ever looked at me like I was a human being and not a piece of hospital equipment.” She chuckled. “Not including the unconscious ones, of course. I haven’t had a girls’ night out in ages. Where do you want to meet?”
“Have you been to the Mexican place downtown, Salsa Fresca? I heard they make a great margarita.”
“If there’s a margarita, I’m all for it. Seven okay with you?”
Giulia gave her a modified thumbs-up. “Fine. You’ll be able to spot me. I’ll be the one with the spiffy hand accessories.”
Frank’s Camry stopped before the sliding doors.
Giulia leaned against the headrest and closed her eyes. This wasn’t much different from her last strained car ride with Frank. Employment status in doubt, reputation still in shreds, silence the width of the Antarctic between them.
She didn’t look like the loser in a cat fight that time. She glanced to her left. Frank had the same frown on his face, though. Well, she was tired and hurting and in no shape to battle her boss. Ex-boss.
“Frank, why did you tell Captain Hogarth I still work for you?”
“Not now. I’m driving.”
At the next stoplight, she said to the dashboard, “Did I hear Pamela say you told her the photos were fakes?”
“I said, not now.”
At least you listen to me, dashboard. You need dusting. Frank should take better care of you. I need more than dusting. I should take better care of me. Let’s weep on each other’s shoulders. You don’t have shoulders. Sorry.
“Giulia, wake up. We’re here.”
White light from tall metal halide lamps illuminated the inside of the car. A breeze with the scent of running water blew against her face. Frank had opened the windows. Nice smell.
She yawned. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to crash.” She looked through the windshield at the
spotlit sign of some hotel or other. “Why are we here?”
“Your apartment is a crime scene. You can’t go back there for a few days.”
“What? All my stuff is in there. My purse—”
“Your purse is in the back seat. I took it off the counter when I left with Blake.”
“Didn’t you break the front door? It won’t lock. I’m not sure all my neighbors are trustworthy.”
“Jimmy’s guys took care of it. He sent for your landlord and a locksmith while they were loading you onto the stretcher.”
That made sense. She guessed. Muscles ached in places she didn’t even know had muscles. They didn’t make thinking easy. The ibuprofen packets in the bag on her lap looked good. She could probably swallow two pills dry. She ran her tongue over her teeth.
“Frank, I don’t have anything with me. I need the basics: Toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant.”
Giulia looked again at the inn’s carved and painted sign.
“We’re at the Creekside? I can’t afford this place.” She sat up straight and grimaced. “All right, if I can’t go home, could you please drive me to someplace cheaper? The Sleep Cheap Inn is only a couple of miles from here. I can swing a night in there. Two if I have to.”
Frank switched off the engine and finally faced her. “You seriously want me to dump you in that cockroach haven? How do you plan to sleep? Or do nonstop eighteen-wheelers rattling the windows soothe your nerves?”
There. He dropped the polite mask. Dealing with a sarcastic Frank was cake when compared with two crazed Falkes.
“I sleep better when I’m not spending money I don’t have. In case you’ve forgotten, Mr. Driscoll, I have no job. Tonight’s events will prevent me from interviewing for a doughnut-maker position tomorrow morning. My landlord will probably evict me because of the damage to my apartment, and I’ll lose my security deposit on top of that. Ten days from now, when the stitches come out of my hands, the dollar store might have an opening for a cashier. What part of this scenario leads you to think I have money to waste at a three-star hotel?”
He slammed his hand on the gearshift. “How many times do I have to say it? You are not unemployed. You are Driscoll Investigations’ partner-in-training.”
Force of Habit: A Falcone & Driscoll Investigation Page 22
