by Sioux Dallas
“That’s a real nice woman,” the paramedic said.
The officer grunted. “She can afford to be. Her grandfather left her a fortune and her husband was killed in an explosion that was caused by the carelessness of his employer. She got a nice sum from his death. She was working in a place that made software computer parts.
“Well, I still say she’s a nice woman. I’ve heard how she gives to the needy and helps the underdog. She could have been selfish and stuck up and kept it all for herself.” The young woman jerked her head at the officer as if to say, “so there”.
In the excitement Hannah had almost forgotten about the dog. He was obviously glad to see her and wanted to play and be friendly. He seemed to be healthy, but was a little thin as if he had not eaten lately.
She called Jim Martin, a veterinarian friend and told him of the dog. “He’s young. I’m guessing him to be a little over a year old. He’s a black Labrador and still puppy playful. I’m feeding him and giving him water, but I’d like for you to check if he has a microchip.”
’Sure, Hannah. Bring him in. That tears me up. Some people move off and leave an animal behind because they can’t have one where they’re going. Or sometimes one is stolen and it gets away and wanders in a strange place bewildered and wondering why he isn’t loved. I’ll look at him for you. Are you going to keep him?”
“No. I wish I could. He’s a darling, loving dog, but I’m not always here all day and sometimes I’m gone for several days. It wouldn’t be fair to an animal. Could you please help me find a good home for him?”
“I’ll try. Have you named him?”
“Oh, no. If I name him, it will be even harder to give him up. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She hugged and petted the dog for a minute and then apologized to him.
“I’m sorry little man. I know I just got home, but duty calls and I have to go out again. You’ve been fed and have water and I’ve made you a nice soft bed here. I’ll even leave a stuffed toy with you. Please don’t tear it apart for I’ve had it for years. Be a good boy.”
Hannah hurried into the medical center, her hair still damp from her shower. She had to stop at the main desk and fill out some papers that she would be responsible for the bills for the homeless man. “Have you found out his name?” she asked the nurse.
“No, we haven’t, but the sheriff and the chief of police have both been in. It’s strange, but they seem to either know him or know something about him.”
Hannah thanked her and walked to room 236 on the second floor. The elevator ride up had given her time to think. Why would the two law men be interested in a homeless man? I’ll find out.
Hannah approached room 236 and saw there was no name in the pocket on the door. She carefully opened the door and slipped into the room. The first thing she noticed was the odor. It smelled like a hospital. Of course, idiot. What else would it smell like?
She walked quietly to the bed and looked down at the man who had been hooked up to several machines. The sound of machines working to keep him alive was evident. Hannah wondered how such a young looking man was in this mess. In spite of the injuries from the beating, she could see he was good looking.
He had been shaved and bathed and was now wearing a hospital gown.
He had thick black hair and a surprisingly smooth skin. She jumped in guilt and surprise when his grey eyes opened and he looked at her. She didn’t know whether he was cognizant enough to know where he was.
She placed a compassionate hand on his shoulder and spoke to him. “Hello. You don’t know me. My name is Hannah Rutherford. I have a detective agency and I’ve seen you when I was jogging. I know you can’t talk now, but I don’t want you to worry. I’m paying for your care so you have nothing to worry about except resting and getting better. I won’t tire you out now, but I’ll be checking in again soon.”
He tried to shake his head and made garbled sounds, but no distinguishable words were understandable.
“Please don’t make yourself feel worse. I’ll be in again soon and later when you’re able to talk, we’ll have a good visit. I wish you could tell me if you need, or want, anything.”
He lifted the hand that had an IV needle stuck in the back of it and made motions with his fingers. Hannah finally realized that he was trying to show her that he could write.
“You’ve had enough excitement today. It’s too soon after your injuries, so I’ll leave and let you rest, but I promise to come again soon and I’ll bring a pad and pen for you.”
She gently patted his shoulder while he closed his eyes in obvious frustration. Hannah quietly left and walked to the nurses’ station. A young nurse was looking at information on the computer and writing on patients’ files. “Excuse me,” Hannah spoke softly. The nurse looked up and smiled.
“Can you tell me anything about the condition of the man in 236? I’m not a relative but I found him and am paying his bills. I’d like to know how badly he’s injured and what the doctors are doing to help him.”
“You must be Miss Rutherford. We haven’t been able to learn his name yet. The sheriff and the chief of police have both been in but they haven’t told us anything they’ve learned about him. As to his condition, I’m not at liberty to give you that information. May I call his doctor to talk to you?”
“Please do. Thank you.” Hannah walked over and sat in the cold, green plastic chairs which were far from comfortable.
A few minutes later a man hurried into the room with a white lab coat flapping around his legs. He was wearing a lilac shirt and black trousers under the coat with a grey and black stripped tie hanging loose around his neck.
“Hello. Did you want to see me?”
“Please. I’m Hannah Rutherford. I have the Lost Cause Detective Agency. I found the man in 236 and am paying his bills. Please tell me what you’ve found about his condition, Dr. ---”
“Sorry about that. You wouldn’t believe how rushed I’ve been. We’re short staffed with the flu going around. I’m Dr. Whittaker, Jackson Whittaker. As to my patient, I’m aware that you’re paying his bills, however, you are not a relative and I cannot, by law, tell you much. If Sheriff Murphy will give me permission, I’ll gladly share.”
“All right. I understand. I just wanted to know in case there was anything else I could do for him.”
“That’s kind of you. I can tell you he has amnesia, apparently due to the blunt force trauma to his head. He has trouble trying to speak, but I’m hopeful that all of his problems will clear soon.”
“He signed to show me he wanted to write something for me. I didn’t have a pen and paper, but will bring some to him.”
“Please don’t be in any hurry to bring them. He needs to remain quiet and free of stress for as long as possible.”
“Thank you, Doctor. I need to go to work, but I’ll be coming by often.”
Arriving at home Hannah didn’t notice anything wrong at first. She pulled into the double garage careful to not hit the dog. The dog!! Where is he? She ran into the house, not noticing that the door she usually kept locked was open.
“Here, boy. Where are you?”
She heard a weak bark down the hall toward her bedroom. Running in that direction, she began to notice that furniture was turned over, pillows were ripped and obviously someone had been in that didn’t belong. She followed the weak moaning sounds to the bathroom and found the dog on his side with what looked like a knife wound.
She quickly knelt beside him and cried, “Oh, I wish you could talk and tell me what happened here. I need to get you to the emergency animal hospital.”
Hannah first called 9-1-1 and explained that she had a break and entering and a dog wounded. The police remembered working with her and liked her so they rushed over.
Sgt. Arnold Belcher gave a careful inspection of the entire house along with a rookie, William Brooks, that he was training. William gave a shout of discovery. “Here is a piece of cloth that might have been part of a pant leg, and it has blood on
it.”
Arnold had an evidence bag and placed the material carefully in the bag. “Good work. Let’s hope there’s enough here for a DNA. Hannah, have you had threats, or do you have a case involving someone who is angry enough to do this?”
“No to both questions. Forgive me, but I must get this dog to the emergency animal hospital. He apparently did his best to protect my house.”
“I didn’t know you had a dog. When did you get him?”
“He really isn’t mine and it’s a long story. I must hurry. Are you going to have an officer stay here until I return, and will you have someone drive by tonight?”
“Sure thing. William and I will stay here and look around more. I want to know how the person got in. Okay, William?”
“Righto Sarg. I’ll be glad to stay.”
Hannah was grateful when the two men gently placed the dog on a doubled bed sheet and carefully carried him to her car. She had to leave him over night, but was relieved that he would be cared for properly.
In an hour she was back in her home and delighted to find that the two officers had found more clues. The man had broken the glass on the window in a bedroom at the back and side of the house. Apparently he had gone to check the garage for something to steal and the dog had charged him and chased him back through the house. They found a shoe print in the dog’s blood and fingerprints on a door frame. He had not had time to do much damage and he had not taken anything of value. But what was he looking for? He had a bite on a leg that would need care, and torn pants.
Hannah thanked the officers after they nailed a piece of plywood over the broken window and called in the report. They asked for a patrolman to drive by every hour or as often as possible. They left when their radio blasted out that there had been a fight and a shooting at a bar downtown.
That night at home Hannah’s phone rang four times. When she answered, there was no communication, just breathing. She finally lost patience and yelled out, “Look, if you’re too afraid to speak to me, don’t bother calling. Come into my office any time and I’ll be glad to listen to you.”
There was a sound as if someone had taken in a breath and then a raspy voice spoke, “Mind your own business and stay out of that which doesn’t concern you. If you want to live or if you want your staff to stay healthy, you’ll listen and heed.” The phone was gently cut off. She held her phone a few seconds more and then hung up.
The note on her ID screen stated, “unavailable”. Star 69 didn’t show a number either. She realized the call could have been made from a throw-away phone.
She carefully wrote, Tuesday, October 24, 8:20 pm on a pad near her phone, and the message the caller had left. She had been in the law enforcement business too long to ignore even a crank call. The note would help her remember when she received the puzzling message. What was she involved in that was none of her business? Why would it be important enough for this unsub (unknown subject) to threaten her and her staff?
Should she report it to the sheriff or wait and talk to Victoria and Herb?
Should she mention it to anyone? What did the caller mean? She decided to wait and discuss it with Victoria and Herb.
Hannah was not easily frightened and felt sure she was safe in her own home. In this case, her mistake was in being too sure of herself. She would regret it later.
The next day she had a call from the veterinarian. “Hannah, my sister’s eight year old daughter lost her dog this week when he ran into the road and was hit by a car. They’ve seen this dog you brought in. My niece has already named him, Soldier because he was wounded in battle.. Do you mind if they take him home and love him?”
“Of course not. I can’t be at home with an animal and it isn’t fair to them. I am so happy that he’ll have a good home and will be wanted and loved. Thank you. I’ll try to find time to get by and visit them and tell them how grateful I am that they’re giving him a good home. He’s a loving dog and will be a good companion for your niece. He’ll also be very protective.”
“Thank you, Hannah. That relieves my mind. I know we spoil my niece, but the dog will have a good home.”
Chapter Three
She yawned broadly and deeply as she stretched her body in every direction she could. Keeping her eyes closed against the surprising morning glare, she stretched again. Snapping her eyes open she recoiled when the clock radio blared “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy”. Eight O’clock! Oh, I’ve overslept. Radio?! When did I get a radio?
Sliding a leg from under the covers she was disgusted to discover she was wearing jeans, socks and blouse. Worse yet, the clothes were stiff with blood. Sitting groggily on the side of the bed, and looking at the brownish snake - skin boots she had left at odd places on the floor, she observed that they were also blood stained. One boot was lying over the door sill and the other was under the window at the head of her bed.
Puzzled, she looked around the room. What happened? Where have I been? Where did this blood come from? Am I in trouble some how? Why can’t I remember what happened? Is this my blood?
The unanswered questions only made her dizzy. Dragging herself to the bathroom she hurriedly dropped her clothes in a heap, and standing in front of a full-length mirror, examined her body. No wounds. Thank God the blood isn’t mine. But whose? “Elizabeth Ann Corelli, what in the world have you been up to?” she asked herself. Where am I?
Running the water as hot as she could stand it, she showered and shampooed her hair twice. After drying she slipped into a ankle-length blue silk robe and toe less and back less cotton velour bedroom slippers with a butterfly embroidered on the top of each piece crossing the ball of the foot.
Beth sat on a stool in front of a dresser mirror while using a blow dryer to style her natural curly strawberry -blond hair. It was finally growing out from a bad cut and was now collar length. She wanted it to the top of her shoulder blades. Worried hazel - green eyes looked through long lashes. A smooth, healthy complexion required no cosmetics although a little coral lipstick and a light beige powder were often applied.
Sighing deeply she looked at the completed project and decided it didn’t look too bad. She had never been considered a beauty, but her mouth with a bow in it was always smiling and making people feel good around her. Her chin was a little too pointed on her triangular- shaped face giving her a determined look. An interesting and -- yes-- attractive face. People had always said, “Beth has a charismatic personality.”
A rumbling in her stomach made her aware that she was hungry. Do I eat here or out? She looked around the room not truly recognizing the items in it. Making her way past the guest bedroom she came to a small room on the right better known as a den rather than a living room.
On the left, across from the den, was a small room with a floor to ceiling window. On the right, in front of the window was a drop-leaf table that could be opened to seat six. On the wall, across from the table, was a beautiful oak china cabinet filled with expensive looking dishes.
Straight through was a kitchen. On her left was a stove. Beside it was a side by side refrigerator and by the refrigerator was a small room holding broom, cleaning supplies and a vacuum cleaner. On the right, under a window, was a deep, double sink and cabinets overhead. A dishwasher took the space beside the sink.
Timidly she opened the refrigerator door and found a pitcher of orange juice, eggs, butter, jams, raw carrots, raw cauliflower, a bowl of fresh cut fruit and a loaf of bread. There was a jar of instant coffee and some cans of Diet Coke. Not sure how her stomach would receive much food, Beth decided to just have juice and toast. A four slot toaster sat on one side of the stove. Why does none of this seem familiar to me?
Seated at the table with two pieces of toast, butter, blackberry jam and a can of Coke, she looked out of the window at an unfamiliar scene. Jumping nearly out of the chair she stood up when the ringing phone hanging on the wall between the dining room and the kitchen blared out.
“Hello.” She spoke low.
“Beth? Is that you? Beth?
Beth? “The person yelled anxiously.
“Yes.”
“Beth. It’s Connie. Can you hear me? How are you feeling?”
“Do I know you?”
“Beth! Of course you know me. We’re best friends and work together. In fact, you’re in my apartment.”
“Oh. That explains why everything is so strange to me. How did I get here in your apartment?” She was afraid to ask about the blood on her clothes.
“You don’t remember? Oh, I bet you have amnesia.”
“Whatever. I guess I do. Why am I here and why can’t I remember anything except my name?”
“You don’t remember the party last night?”
“Party?”
“We gave a going away party for Crystal. Remember? She’s getting married and is leaving to move to Arizona where her husband is working.”
“No. I don’t remember. How do I know you and Crystal?”
“We work here in the court house in a group of legal secretaries.”
“We do?”
“Sure. You don’t remember the party. Do you remember slapping Malcolm when he whispered something to you? Then you jumped up and ran out and he was right on your heels.”
“Nothing. Why am I here? Where did the blood on my clothes come from? Who is this Malcolm?”
“I had to speak to someone but came after you as quickly as I could. I found you wandering in the parking lot of the Full and Plenty Restaurant. You were covered in blood and couldn’t talk. I didn’t know what had happened or how you got the blood on you. I just put you in my car and brought you home. You were so out of it, and fought me, that I just managed to take off your boots and put you in my bed. I slept on the couch. I called to ask you if you remembered how you got the blood on you.”
“No,” she sobbed. “I don’t remember.”
“Well then. Maybe this news will jog your memory. Let me read it to you. I’ll only read the important parts. It seems that after you and Malcolm Baker ran out last night, someone beat him to death. There was so much blood around that it is described as a blood bath. Apparently you were near, or maybe you held him. The police are looking for anyone who has any information on him. I know you would never have killed him. You’re too small to have caused that much damage to a man much bigger than you. It just isn’t your nature to get so angry anyway. Maybe you saw it happen.”
