by A. J. Downey
“Right, I’ll make a schedule – just as soon as you all start texting me your availability, and remember she doesn’t know about the threat, so let’s try not to spill the beans if you talk to her.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” Backdraft said with a grimace and I smiled and huffed a bitter laugh.
“Brother, she’s been through hell in a handbasket, enough is enough for the time being.”
“I don’t disagree, but I’m not talking figuratively, I’m talking literally – Skids is waving at you from the bar, so get the fuck out of here!” he grinned at me but it was forced.
“Oh, shit! Thanks.” I got up to a masculine laugh track and went for the door, Poe on my heels. “Talk to you soon,” I called back and felt loads better. I mean, we couldn’t keep it up forever and there would likely be gaps, but something was better than nothing and it was a lot better than it was before – her having no one looking out for her.
I grabbed the food and went out the door and back around to the alley, looking forward to heading up to the hospital and seeing how she was doing.
Chapter 6
Chrissy
Three long days without Tony. David, Sami’s brother, had come to see me, though and had brought their parents’ well wishes. He said they had wanted to come, but the funeral arrangements had taken over everything right now and that their mom wasn’t doing so well. I understood, and the visit had been entirely too short. That had been my only visitor aside from any official police visits from Tony or his partner. At least the firm I belonged to had sent flowers, though, so I knew I wasn’t completely forgotten. It was a beautiful bouquet along with a get well card full of signatures from people around the office. Still, it would have been nice, would have broken up the monotony had someone come to see me.
I honestly didn’t know how to feel about it. I mean, I’d been shot, it wasn’t like I was having my appendix out. That, and it was painfully obvious, after being here a week or more, that no one from the firm actually cared. When it came to the legal visits, only Tony acted like it wasn’t completely about my case when he managed to come, which had me seriously rethinking my life’s priorities.
I’d always been one to keep my circle small, even before my parents had died, but having only one friend in Sami Lynn, maybe I’d been keeping it too small. I’d made my career everything, but my career, as was obvious now, didn’t love me near as much as I’d loved it.
“You sure you’re gonna be okay?” Detective McDonnell asked after breaking the news that nothing else could be done, that the man who had killed Sami was in the wind and might have to hurt or kill someone else before he could be found.
I sniffed and nodded, “I just had really hoped, you know?”
“Yeah, I know, kid. I’m really sorry.”
“I’m just sorry that something potentially horrible has to happen to someone else before anything can be done.”
“Eh, not always… sometimes we get lucky and something like the gun used turns up in a traffic stop or on a banger and the case suddenly has new evidence that we can trace back to the guy. It’s a lot of hard work, but in a case like this, worth every bit of shoe leather worn off.”
My face scrunched up as I tried to stop myself from crying yet more. Nine times out of ten, when I burst into tears it wasn’t for myself and it wasn’t now. I still felt so guilty about Sami. Sami who still had her parents, and who had been engaged. Sami who had everything life had to offer in front of her and wasn’t afraid to go out and live it. She’d been my best friend since the third grade, thick as thieves, we’d even gone to the same college together and now she was gone and it was all my fault for not wanting to be alone.
“Aw, kid, I’m so sorry,” Detective McDonnell said. He handed me a handkerchief from inside his suit jacket’s pocket and I took it. He’d been here a while, the evening news buzzing quietly in the background and he said, “You really shouldn’t listen to any of that garbage. They don’t know you or what they’re talking about.”
“What?” I asked, bewildered and he looked up at the screen. I looked up too and saw my picture from the firm’s website resting above the reporter’s shoulder. I pressed the volume button on the inside of my bedrail, the reporter’s voice coming through the speaker beside me a little louder.
“… on this edition of Word on the Street.”
It cut to a microphone in front of a black man in a pair of grease stained coveralls with one of those industrial, thick canvas, warm construction jackets over it.
“You know, I’m glad she’s not dead because I don’t wish that on nobody, but if anybody should be up on charges for that other girl’s death it should be her. Mm-mm-mm that was a damn shame.”
Detective McDonnell scoffed, “Yeah, not how the legal system works, buddy.”
I stared wide eyed as the image cut to a white police officer in uniform, the reporter off camera and behind the mic saying, “What do you think about the Christina Marie Franco case?”
“I think it’s a shame that someone can’t do their job without everyone having an opinion.”
“You know that Samantha Lynn Hayworth’s funeral is tomorrow, right?”
“No, I didn’t know that.”
“You don’t have an opinion about the situation?” the reporter asked.
“Yeah, yeah I do, but I’m going to do the right thing here and keep it to myself.”
The image cut to an older woman, Italian by the hair and the dress. She reminded me of my grandmother as she said, “Those poor, poor, girls.” She crossed herself. “I pray for them.”
Another man, this time in an Indigo City Angler’s hat, “I feel sorry for the blonde girl who’s picture’s been all over the news, that lawyer’s the one that deserved to die.”
I closed my eyes and again Detective McDonnell made a rude noise, “These people don’t know what the hell they’re talking about.”
“Don’t they?” I asked.
“No, they don’t.” Strong, dispassionate, and angry, Tony’s voice rang out from the doorway into my room. I craned my neck around carefully and he came in, handing one bag of takeout to his partner.
“From Skids and Reflash,” he said and Detective McDonnell’s eyes lit up.
“Alright now! I’ll be sure to tell ‘em thank you.”
Tony nodded and asked me, “You have dinner yet?”
“It was disgusting, I barely ate it,” I said honestly and Tony laughed.
“Glad your appetite is coming back.”
“Thanks,” I murmured as he opened up one of the Styrofoam clamshells on my tray table and fished out a plastic fork for me.
“Hot and fresh from the Ten-Thirteen. Reflash’s hospital special,” Tony declared and I frowned.
“The Ten-Thirteen? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.”
“Ever hear of the Cormorant Bar & Grill?” McDonnell asked.
“Oh! Seriously? Why do you call it the Ten-Thirteen?”
Tony smiled, “It’s the address, Ten-Thirteen Muller Street.”
Detective McDonnell chuckled, “It’s also the call sign for officer in need of assistance and some days, the Cormorant is just the kind of assistance we need.”
“I feel like I should have known all this double entendre about it.”
“Well, you’re on the defense side of things, we aren’t always inclined to share,” Detective McDonnell said but at a sharp look from Tony said, “What? I’m just sayin’.”
I laughed a little then and was pleased to realize that it hurt, but not nearly as bad as it had just yesterday or the day before. I was still on pain medicine, but I was trying very hard to be very careful about how much I took. Addiction ran in my family, and though my parents had never had any trouble with drugs, I had uncles and cousins on both sides who did. I didn’t want to go down that path if I could help it.
“You alright?” Tony asked.
I nodded, and took another bite of the heavenly mac and cheese in one of the small pockets of the
take out’s clamshell. It was a hearty meal with a rich potato salad in the other small pocket and what looked like smoked brisket in the main portion. Whoever Reflash was, he knew how to cook. I wanted to ask about the unique name, but didn’t feel comfortable with Detective McDonnell here. I mean, I didn’t know if he knew about Tony and me from before, and I didn’t know if that could or would put Tony into some kind of compromising position with his boss or the department… but at the same time, I really wanted him to stay on my case.
I was almost afraid that if he weren’t the one working it that I really would be alone and that I’d be forgotten; fading into obscurity completely until I might as well not exist at all. Well, honestly, I was less afraid for me than I was for Sami and her family… I mean, my name attached to this, I was afraid that it wouldn’t go anywhere and my friend and second family would never receive justice. God, this was all so awful…
“Hey, you okay?” Tony asked a moment later.
I blinked and looked over at him carefully. Just about every movement I made affected my back and injuries somehow, so every one of those movements had become careful and deliberate.
“I’m fine, sorry. I guess it just takes some extra effort and time to think, all the pain medicine, you know?”
Tony’s partner nodded in understanding and took another bite of his food, but not Tony, he stared at me with a penetrating gaze, gently searching my face for the truth. I should have known better than to attempt to lie in the first place. These men were trained detectives with the Indigo City Police Department. They likely took their coffee with extra cynicism in the morning. I don’t know what I’d been thinking other than I didn’t want to put anything I’d been thinking in the air… I guess I wanted to protect Tony, as silly as that sounds. I mean, he was a grown man and clearly knew how to take care of himself. I just… he was being so nice to me when the rest of the world was being so ugly and I didn’t want that to go away. Not yet.
Thankfully, he let it go. He gave me a nod and I resumed eating so I didn’t have to talk about anything else, at least for the time being.
The news had ended and I was grateful for that, and I just let the TV carry on with the same channel. Detective McDonnell said, “Las Vegas vacation,” and I looked at him.
“What?”
He chuckled, “Those meds really are doing your head in,” he said and stabbed his fork at the screen. I looked up at the sparkling green background with its blocks of white, several taken up by letters. Wheel of Fortune, he was playing along with the gameshow that came on after the news.
“I like Jeopardy better,” I said without thinking.
Tony barked a surprised laugh and his partner said, “Well you’re in luck; it’s on next.” He shifted in his seat and grumbled, “Jeopardy,” before scoffing. Clearly, I had offended his finer gameshow sensibilities.
“Could be worse, she could have said ‘The Price is Right.’” Tony came to my defense but I grimaced.
“It was the only option on earlier today… I can’t deal with soap operas.”
“Ooo,” McDonnell cringed in sympathy.
“I’d give anything for my tablet and Netflix,” I said. “Or better yet, my Kindle.”
“I’ll see what I can do to scare those up,” Tony said.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Going to need some things from your place eventually. I’ll go check it out on my way home.”
I nodded and said, “Thank you, I really appreciate it. I would usually rely on Sami for things like that.”
“Ain’t you got any other friends?” McDonnell asked and I colored.
“Dude!” Tony cried and McDonnell cringed, realizing as soon as he’d said it how it sounded and instead of embarrassed or hurt all I could feel was sympathy for the poor man. My dad had been much the same way. Blurting things out and completely not meaning the way they sounded.
“Sorry, I need to think before I speak sometimes,” Detective McDonnell muttered.
“It’s okay, um… my parents died in a crash when I was in college and Sami and I had been friends since third grade. I made some friends, but with my career, didn’t have a lot of time to develop those friendships much past the acquaintance stage of things, you know?”
“Fair enough, and you didn’t owe me any kind of explanation, you know.”
“It’s alright, I guess I’m just a little self-conscious about how it looks.”
“Looks ain’t everything,” he said with a gusty sigh and I nodded. Tony watched our exchange, brow creased, though with worry or displeasure I couldn’t quite tell. He’d been quiet, texting back and forth with someone on his phone while McDonnell and I talked.
Still, even with him distracted by the device, it was nice just having people here. We finished our dinner and the men stayed and watched Jeopardy with me before they got up to go.
“I’ll swing by your place on the way home and see about getting that stuff for you. You remember where any of it is at?”
“Bedside table, maybe the coffee table. I honestly can’t remember.”
“It’s okay, I’ll find it.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
“See you around,” McDonnell said and I smiled.
“Thank you for coming and taking the time out of your lives and busy schedule.”
“Not a problem,” Tony said with a wink and his expression? I believed him.
“Night, Ms. Franco.”
“Good night, detectives.”
I settled back and flipped through the limited channels until I found something tolerable and sighed, settling in. My nurse for this evening, Pasquale, came in and gave me my meds and pretty soon, I was fast asleep.
Chapter 7
Tony
“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” Oz asked when I met him up the hall from Chrissy’s room. I looked him over, taking in his bored and unimpressed look and sighed, trying to put it into a neat little box not that he’d ‘get’ because Oz wasn’t stupid, but more in a way to make him give a fuck about it. That was the thing about Oz, he just didn’t give a fuck unless you gave him a reason to. Once you did, though? He was all in.
“Because like it or not, she’s one of our own,” I said and he raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, how do you figure, man?” He was listening, which was at least something.
I explained about how she may be on the defense side of things but how she was one of the rare ones doing it for all of the right reasons. He just looked at me with that ‘what do you take me for?’ look and I sighed.
“Let me guess, you think she’s an asshole.”
“Yup. All lawyers are.”
“Until you need one,” I said flatly.
“Still assholes then, too.”
“Fine, okay,” I said nodding, “She’s an asshole like I’m an asshole. You may not like me, and think that I’m an asshole, but you put the donation in the hat when it’s passed and you stand up and do the right thing anyways because we’re all part of the same damn community, the blue one.”
He looked me up and down and stuffed his beanie hat for that big bald head of his in the side pocket of his tactical pants. “You’re right,” he said and I felt my insides go liquid with relief. “I think you’re an asshole.” I laughed, I couldn’t help it. Oz was always good at catching a guy off guard. Through his own grin he said, “But you’re right about the other stuff too,” and the last vestiges of apprehension left me.
“Thanks, man.”
“Just doing what we all do best, the black knight routine.”
“Don’t you mean white knight?”
“Man, what is it with all you motherfuckers and everything having to be white all the damn time?”
“Hey, you’re the one being racist on this one, dude!”
“I ain’t racist. Shit, I got a color TV at home.”
“What? How? I can’t even with you sometimes, man.” I couldn’t stop laughing.
“Go on, get out of
here. I’ll be here ‘til Poe gets off then he’ll take over for the next watch.”
“You going in to talk to her?”
“Hell no, man. She’s a lawyer didn’t you just hear me? They’re all assholes. I’ll post up outside the door.”
“Good deal, because I wasn’t totally sure how I was going to explain that to her.”
“What, she don’t know about the threats?” he asked, frowning.
“Man, weren’t you listening back at the Ten-Thirteen? No, she doesn’t. She needs time to heal without more stress added on.”
He shook his head, “I ain’t into all that, man. That’s all you. You asked for help, I’m here. That’s all I give a shit about.”
“Tell me about it, and I appreciate that; you have no idea.”
“Don’t be getting all emotional on me now,” Oz said dismissively and I grinned, shaking my head and held up my hand. We knocked fists and I left.
Jaime had taken off ahead of me by a few minutes so it was just me heading back down to the garage. I rode to Chrissy’s place first and banged on the super’s apartment. He grumbled about it, but gave me the key to Chrissy’s new lock and door. I went up to her apartment, the doorway freshly framed; the door giving off the smell of fresh cut lumber under the heavier scent of new paint. I stuck the key in the lock and twisted, giving the door a shove.
“Damn.”
I tipped my head back and let out an explosive breath at the ceiling. I knew that crime scenes didn’t magically clean themselves up, but this shit had slipped my mind. I guess maybe I’d thought that management or the super might have done something about the worst of it, but apparently not.
The stink wasn’t great but it was manageable. I opened up some windows and looked around, heaving a sigh. This was, for the most part, a one man job but the couch needed to go. The blood wasn’t coming out and she didn’t need to come home to this. I pulled out my phone and dialed and knew I was going to owe and owe big.
“Yeah, it’s Youngblood…”
