“Only that Beverly was in the hospital recently for falling down the stairs. He blamed Matt and claimed she was covering up for him.”
The detective dropped his eyes, checking his notebook. “Or she was covering up for one Colin Caffranelli, a dancer at your club, who turned up floating in a canal in City Park yesterday. He had been shot once in the back of the head.”
Grady lowered his eyes to the table, trying to hide his shock from the detective.
“Did you know Mr. Cafranelli?”
Grady raised his eyes to the detective. “I knew him. I was told he was fired.”
The detective’s small, hazel eyes coolly explored Grady’s face. “I’m not going to sit here and play games, Mr. Paulson. From what I have learned, you’re an upstanding guy who travels around the country making a living dancing in these clubs. You never get in trouble and have never been arrested. But this city is different from the others you’ve been in. Here, everyone is interconnected. When a man who is sleeping with a prominent nightclub owner’s wife gets killed, and then the next day another one gets shot in an apparent hold up, I’ve got to wonder if something else is going on.”
“I’ve told you all I know,” Grady calmly attested.
The detective sighed and then gleaned his notebook again. “You’re staying in the same house as Mr. Larson, correct?”
“On Esplanade Avenue, yes.”
“Al Wagner’s place, I know it well.”
Grady frowned. “You do?”
Detective Villere shrugged. “I’ve been there a few times. Not all of Ms. Wagner’s clients are as upstanding as yourself.”
Grady smirked. “And not all cops are corrupt, right, Detective?”
“Touché, Mr. Paulson.”
Grady folded his arms over his chest, uncomfortable with the way the interview was beginning to feel more like an interrogation.
“Do you have any contact information for Mr. Larson? Family, perhaps?” the detective persisted.
Grady shook his head. “I got the impression he wasn’t very close with them. All I knew was that he was from Springfield, Missouri, and as for family there … I have no idea.”
The detective nodded. “We’ve been in touch with Ms. Wagner already. She told us the same thing.”
Grady thought of Al and what she was going through. He wished she was there with him. He wanted to hold her close and feel the warmth of her next to him.
Detective Villere stood from his chair and reached into the back pocket of his pants. After pulling out a worn billfold, he removed a white business card and handed the card to Grady.
“You can call me if you think of anything else. If anyone from Mr. Larson’s family happens to contact you, please have them give me a call.”
Grady stood from the table, taking the business card. “Sure will, Detective.”
“We have all your contact numbers in case we need to talk again.”
“Do you really suspect Matt Harrison had something to do with this?” Grady pressed.
The detective pensively let go a long breath, making his stout waistline bulge out slightly. “Honestly, no, but I had to ask. From what you described of the shooter, this sounds like a straight up robbery gone bad. Mafia types like Matt Harrison don’t hire young kids to pull the trigger for them. If it had been a hit, Mr. Paulson ….” The detective slowly grinned, making his small eyes disappear behind his pasty skin. “You wouldn’t be standing here, talking to me. Hit men don’t leave witnesses behind to testify against them.” He picked up his notepad from the table. “I’ll be in touch.”
The round detective waddled to the conference room door. After he had stepped from the room, Grady’s body sagged with relief. He slumped back down in his chair, trying to digest all that he had been told.
He put his elbows on the table and held his face in his hands. How in the hell did everything turn to shit so quickly?
He sat back and pulled his cell phone from his pocket, wanting to call Al, only to realize he did not know her cell phone number. In their short time together, he had forgotten to ask her for it. As he thought about their whirlwind romance, he came to grips with the fact there was a lot he did not know about her. Little things that lovers shared, they had not had the time to discuss, making Grady feel all the more ashamed of his behavior the night before. He should have been more patient with her, and understood, not belittled her fears.
Standing from his chair, he was anxious to return to the waiting room, in case someone came looking for him with news on Doug. Just as he was about to open the conference room door, someone stepped inside.
“Detective Villere told me you were in here,” Al softly said.
She was wearing her jeans from the night before with a simple white T-shirt. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her eyes were red and slightly swollen.
Without hesitation, Grady threw his arms around her and pulled her to him. “I wanted to call you, but I didn’t have your number.”
She nodded and pulled back from him, eyeing his bloodstained clothes. “The police called me just as I was about to head to work this morning. They told me what happened and that they were looking for any information on Doug’s family. I got here as soon as I could.”
“The detective told me he’s up in the operating room. That’s all I know. When I got here, they were asking me about his medical history, if he was allergic to anything, his blood type … hell, I didn’t even know his middle name.” Grady backed away from her and went to the table.
“What happened?” she gently pressed, coming up to him.
Grady lowered his tired body into a chair. His head ached, his eyes felt like sandpaper, and he desperately needed a cup of coffee. He wiped his hand over his face and when he gazed up at Al, he suddenly felt as if the world had just stopped spinning.
“After our fight, I went to see Doug at Pat O’Brien’s to get drunk,” he mumbled. “We were walking back to the house and this kid—a real young kid—came out of the shadows and pointed a gun at us. Before I knew what was going on, Doug was on the ground wrestling with him, the gun went off, and there was blood everywhere.” He tugged at his blood-soaked T-shirt.
“We need to get you home.” She gestured to his T-shirt. “Get you out of those clothes, and let you get some sleep.”
“Sleep?” Grady snorted. “I’ll never be able to sleep again. I keep seeing him lying on that sidewalk, the blood just gushing from his body. The whole time I kept thinking, ‘What do I do? If only Allison was here, she would know what to do.’”
She stepped beside his chair. “Grady, there was nothing more you could have done for him. You stayed with him and that is all that matters. He is getting the best care possible.” Her hand caressed his cheek. “When the police called me and told me about the hold up, I thought initially it was you in the emergency room. Then, when they told me it was Doug, I was … relieved you were okay. But Doug ….” She paused and shook her head. “He never deserved this. He’s a great guy who wouldn’t hurt a soul.”
Grady took her hand and held it tight. “I’m so sorry about last night. I should never have gone off on you like that. You were right; we need some time to get to know each other. If I would have listened to you and stayed, then perhaps Doug would not be where he is right now.”
“Grady, don’t you blame yourself for this. It was a stupid accident. If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I drove you away last night because I was afraid. I’ve never been anything more than a diversion to Geoff. Until I met you, I thought that was all I was good for.”
He stood from the chair and cupped his hands about her lovely face. “You are a woman with so much to offer any man. I’m the one who isn’t good enough for you.”
She softly laughed, and the sound lifted Grady’s debilitated spirit. “Listen to us. We’re two people so chewed up by life that when someone wonderful comes along, we only wonder what we did wrong, instead of being happy that we finally did something right.”
The doo
r to the conference room swung open and a lanky man dressed in green scrubs, black clogs, and a long white coat walked in. He had dark, curly hair, soft brown eyes, and looked like he had not slept in a week.
“Are you two here for Mr. Larson?”
Grady took Al’s hand and led her from the table. “Yes, I’m Grady Paulson and this is his landlord, Allison Wagner.”
“I’m Dr. Phil Rotolo, senior general surgery resident here at University Hospital. I just finished operating on your friend.” He closed the door behind him and came into the room.
“How is he?” Grady quickly inquired.
Dr. Rotolo kept his brown eyes on Grady, looking very worried. “The bullet lacerated his liver and nicked his abdominal aorta. He lost a lot of blood. Because of that, we have to wait and see if his organs were damaged by being without perfusion for so long.”
Grady turned to Al. “What does that mean?”
“Sometimes if vital organs do not get enough blood flow, they shut down. It starts with the kidneys and liver, and can eventually progress to all the organs.”
“Obviously you’re not just a landlord,” Dr. Rotolo surmised.
“I’m a nurse anesthetist with the Jackson Group.”
Dr. Rotolo sighed. “Then you know what we’re up against.”
She nodded.
Grady looked from Dr. Rotolo to Al while a sinking feeling took over his insides. “What are we up against?”
Al’s sigh confirmed Grady’s worst fear. “We may not know for another twenty-four hours or so, if he will pull through this, Grady.”
“He could still die?” Grady all but shouted.
“If his organs did not get enough blood, then they’re already dying,” Dr. Rotolo explained. “His body will begin shutting down. If that happens, there is nothing else we can do.”
“Goddamn it,” Grady roared, and turned away.
“He’s in ICU, sedated, and on a lot of pain medication,” Dr. Rotolo spoke up behind him. “Even if you two did visit him, he wouldn’t know you were there. The best thing to do is to go home and wait. By tomorrow morning, we’ll have a better idea of where we stand.”
Grady faced the doctor. “Thank you.”
Dr. Rotolo flashed a weak smile. “I wish I could give you better news about your friend, but it is just too early to tell, one way or the other.” He turned around and headed to the conference room door.
Al put her arm around Grady’s waist. “Let’s go home, Grady. There’s nothing more we can do here.”
Grady let Al usher him from the conference room and out into the ER waiting area. As they crossed the waiting room and headed toward the entrance, Grady became mesmerized by the play of light through the thick glass doors. Stepping through the ER entrance, the sunlight enveloped Grady’s body. In that instant, he realized how fragile life was. In a flash, all a person’s dreams and hopes could be snuffed out by a single stupid mistake, leaving one to debate if there was any meaning to this existence. Perhaps life was nothing more than a vain attempt to steal a few desired moments of happiness from the unkind clutches of a cold and heartless universe.
Chapter 18
When they returned to the house on Esplanade, Al took a stunned and silent Grady to his apartment and removed his bloody clothing. After tossing his jeans, briefs, and T-shirt in the trash, she led him into the bathroom.
She turned on the hot water in the shower. “This will help you to relax.”
“I can’t relax,” he confided. “How can I relax after everything that has happened?”
She guided him to the shower. When Grady stepped beneath the rush of hot water, he closed his eyes and thought of Doug. He did not want to enjoy the cascade of massaging water on his face, and felt guilty for being able to stand in his shower and do something as mundane as bathe, while Doug was lying in an ICU bed, fighting for his life.
A pair of hands began kneading the muscles in his back and neck. “You can’t blame yourself,” Al whispered in his ear.
Grady whirled around and saw her naked body squeezed next to him in the tiny shower stall. He slid his arms around her and put his forehead against hers.
“How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“Because a good man would feel guilty about what happened, and not relieved that it didn’t happen to him.”
“Am I a good man? I don’t know anymore.”
“You’re a good man, Grady Paulson. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe that.”
She kissed his lips and instantly Grady was consumed by his desire for her. He wanted to forget about Doug, and to stop the endless slideshow of blood, pain, and fear in his head. Needing a moment of peace with her, he opened his mouth, wanting more of her. He pushed her back against the tiled-wall of the shower stall. Giving in to the madness surging in his veins, his hands roamed the curves of her body. He lifted her right leg and wrapped it around his waist. Driving his fingers deep into her warm folds, she shivered.
“I need you, right now,” he murmured against her cheek.
Al held on to his shoulders as his fingers became more insistent, delving deeper inside of her.
“Then take me, Grady.”
He lifted her other leg and hooked it around his hip, eager to enter her, but the cramped shower stall made it hard for him to maneuver their bodies around. Frustrated, he held her to him and shoved the glass shower door open. Dripping wet, he carried her to the vanity and lowered her on to the counter. Glancing down at her nimble body dripping with water made him grow hard. Driven by his desire, he pushed her back on the vanity, pulled her bottom to the edge, and lifted her legs. Unable to wait, he entered her with one forceful thrust. When Al uttered a brief whimper, he froze.
“Shit, I hurt you. You weren’t ready for me. I shouldn’t have done—”
She placed her finger against his lips. “You didn’t hurt me.” Al’s legs went around his waist and she encouraged him to go deeper. “You can never hurt me, Grady.”
He gently kissed her lips and began moving inside of her. He wanted to go slow, to bring her to orgasm again and again, but he was unable to control his passion. Instead, he pushed into her as fast and as deep as he could go. He wanted to be selfish and satisfy his own lust, to help quell his fury. Within seconds, the burning in his stomach was replaced by the demand of his cock. He grunted as he moved feverishly in and out of her. With one last urgent thrust, he came inside of her, groaning against the intensity of his orgasm.
Catching his breath, he heard the running water of the shower behind them.
“I—I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Shhh, don’t apologize. I understand.”
He embraced her wet body, and then he felt the chill in the bathroom. Pulling away from her, he turned off the shower and reached for a towel on the rack by the shower door. Coming back to her, he covered her with the towel and began rubbing it against her skin. Grady kept his eyes from her face, ashamed of how he had just acted.
Lifting her from the vanity counter, he carried her to the bedroom and pulled back the blue comforter on his sleigh bed. He deposited her beneath the sheets and then climbed in next to her. After pulling the covers around them, he wrestled the towel from her body and dropped it to the floor.
“Next time it will be better, I promise,” he vowed, spooning behind her.
“I know, Grady. You just needed to forget.”
“You’re too good for me.”
Al traced her fingers up and down his arm draped over her chest. “I could say the same thing about you.” She wiggled around to face him. “Try to get some sleep.”
“I’m not going to be able to sleep.”
“Please try. You will be able to deal with everything a little better, if you get some rest.”
Grady let out a long breath. “What are his chances?”
“Depends on a lot of things.”
“Tell me the bottom line, Allison.”
“The bottom line?” Al sat up next to him. “Not good. If he doe
s recover, there’s a pretty good chance he’ll have some kind of permanent damage or disability.”
“Disability?”
“Brain damage. The brain is an organ just like the heart or liver. If it goes without blood for too long, it dies, or pieces of it die. They won’t know what, or if, there is any damage until they see if he comes around.”
Grady ran his hands over his face. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Al gently stroked his hair. “Get some rest, Grady.”
“Just stay with me for a little while. That’s all I need.”
Her hand continued to move rhythmically back and forth through his hair. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”
“Stay forever, then.”
He waited, his heart pounding, for her response.
“Shh. Sleep, Grady.”
Letting it go, he lost himself in the motion of her hand. Suddenly, Grady felt exhausted. All the worry, fear, guilt, and regret stilled within him. All he could feel was Al’s gentle caress. His breathing slowed and his eyes closed, and within seconds blackness overcame his thoughts, allowing him to drift away.
* * *
When Grady’s eye’s opened, the late afternoon sun was beaming in through his bedroom window. He reached beside him and discovered a mound of twisted covers, but no Al. When he stood from the bed, his muscles ached and his head was foggy. Events of the previous night quickly came back to him, turning his stomach into a complex nest of knots.
He glanced about the bedroom and remembered Al rubbing his head as he drifted off to sleep. Reaching for a clean pair of jeans hanging in his closet, he went to his bathroom, eager to get upstairs to her and see if there was any news on Doug.
Standing before her apartment entrance, he gently knocked on the tall door and waited. When Al opened the door, she was dressed in a pair of fitted gray warm up pants and a pink tank top. In her hand was a tall glass, filled to the rim with orange juice.
He pointed to her glass. “Breakfast?”
“Actually, it’s orange juice and vodka. Want one?”
The Art of Sin Page 19
