Phil looked questioningly at Erwin, who was also less than pleased with his phrasing.
“I don’t really understand,” Pamela said.“Well, understand this!” Erwin swung a briefcase onto the table, opened it, and pulled out Pamela’s laptop, which was last seen in her bedroom. “Is this your —”
“My laptop.” Pamela, very confused now, identified it.
“Ah, right.” Erwin was a bit thrown by her ready response. “Well, can you explain the emails we found on it?” He toggled a few keys, found the email folder he was looking for, and turned the computer to face Pamela.
“I assume you mean the story emails that Grady and I liked to send, though I’m not sure why you’ve stolen my laptop or what interest you have in this. Grady was a doctor, and now he’s dead. If you would just let me follow —”
“You better assume,” Erwin growled. “And assume we know everything, everything about you, Grady, and your little blonde friend, too.”
“Karli?”
“Kindergarten teacher, my ass,” Erwin sneered.
“I wouldn’t mind her teaching me to finger paint.” Phil grinned and wagged his eyebrows.
Erwin closed his eyes in utter frustration, but chose to continue to ignore Phil. “We know that Grady was sending you coded messages in this series of emails. We know you passed this information on to your superiors. What we want to know is who you work for and what information you passed on.”
“Coded emails?” Pamela seemed to have no idea what Erwin was talking about.
“These are no ordinary love letters,” Erwin insisted.
“It is difficult to define love,” Phil added. “True love especially. If I may be so bold to call it that.”
“Yes, but what good is true love in the face of death?” Pamela said quietly.
“Aren’t you suppose to endure, to keep the memory of your love alive?” Erwin nastily turned on Pamela. “Maybe it wasn’t really true for you.”
“Maybe you have absolutely no idea,” Pamela said, not quite so polite now as she stared Erwin down until he looked away.
“Ahem, err, the emails?” Phil tentatively tried to alleviate the tension and get the interrogation back on track.
“The emails were just a game. Grady couldn’t talk a lot about where he was or what he was doing, so we made up a life … we … wanted …” Pamela’s voice cracked.
“Don’t play the ingénue with me,” Erwin snarled. “You will break this code for us with or without your willing cooperation.”
Phil opened the small medical kit that the medic had left on the table. It held a couple of vials filled with clear liquid and a bunch of hypodermic syringes.
“We have ways of making you talk.” Phil attempted to match Erwin’s menacing tone. “And an overdose could be fatal, so might I suggest you eat something.”
They stared at Pamela. She stared back at them, clearly confused.
“So, lunch?” Phil asked as he turned to Erwin.
“Sounds good to me.” Erwin ground out his answer to Phil through clenched teeth, while actually addressing Pamela.
Phil zipped up the medic kit and tucked it in his suit jacket pocket. Erwin slammed the screen of the laptop closed then spun away, leaving it on the table. Phil held the door open, and Erwin exited without another glance in Pamela’s direction. Phil flashed Pamela a grin and leaned back into the room to whisper, “I just must say that the love lies bleeding floral arrangement at the memorial was perfection itself. I … I … just felt it.”
“Thank you,” Pamela answered politely, and then, not interested in prolonging any conversation about Grady’s death, she reverted her eyes to her hands which she once again held folded in her lap.
Phil followed Erwin out into the hall.
•••••••••
Phil shut the door gently behind him and Erwin. He was still grinning. The long hallway was empty. Bare gray walls, punctuated by closed steel doors, stretched in either direction.
Erwin vehemently turned on Phil the second the door clicked closed. “When I pause, it’s for her, or whomever the suspect is, to answer, not you!”
“Right!” Phil excitedly replied. “The pause makes them nervous, makes them more likely to talk.”
“That was an utter bust.” Erwin abruptly switched subjects as quickly as he got abruptly angry. He stretched his back with a groan.
“Seemed to go pretty good to me. And don’t worry, I’ve already started the paperwork.”
“The paperwork? When was the last time you were in the field?”
“Well, my shoulder bursitis …”
“Grady would have never made those mistakes.”
“Hey, you weren’t exactly ‘perfect spy’ in there, you know.”
“You threw me. Now if she doesn’t eat, we’ll probably kill her with the serum before we get any answers.”
“There is a possibility. I mean, she could possibly … not know anything.”
“You make me sick,” Erwin said. And then, after he felt his glare of disapproval had done enough damage to Phil’s fragile ego, he stalked away down the hall. Phil looked severely hurt. “I’ll handle this from here,” Erwin called back over his shoulder. “Stay out of my way.”
“If Grady was such a perfect partner, we wouldn’t be in this situation,” Phil muttered to himself as he turned to wander off in the opposite direction. “Plus, a little nice goes a lot further than you think.”
Erwin, now at the far end of the corridor, turned into an intersecting hall, but then immediately took a step back to check on Phil’s progress. Phil turned the corner without remotely noticing Erwin watching him as he left. Erwin then opened his suit jacket and removed his gun from its holster.
•••••••••
Now, Phil was nothing like the nursery rhyme, Boys are made of snakes and snails and puppy dog tails. In fact, he was much more the sugar and spice and everything nice usually used to describe girls, but that didn’t get him very far with the agency. In fact, Erwin was kind of right. Phil wouldn’t even have this current assignment if it wasn’t for Grady’s death, though his report writing was unparalleled and he always got picked first as a training buddy. He was almost as highly certified as Grady had been. He just leaned toward the less physical pursuits.
Phil preferred to follow his Chinese Horoscope, in which he was the dog, not that he was even remotely oriental. He hadn’t even met a person of Asian descent until high school. Everyone knew that the dog was the absolute best sign to be; there was no better. Everyone loved a dog. Everyone loved Phil, except Erwin, but Phil was determined to win his new partner over … any day now.
•••••••••
Back in the interrogation room, Pamela reached for the laptop, toggled a key, and started to replay the DVD.
Grady’s face filled the screen. “Ah, the first kiss was perfection itself,” Grady-on-the-DVD said. “Filtered street light, after hours spent talking … but a gentleman never tells tales.”
“There you are,” Pamela sighed, and she reached to brush her fingers across Grady’s face. Except before she could do so, her own face filled the screen. She was being interviewed by her mother and answering the same question as Grady had before her. “Oh. It was … he smelled of beer and his stubble rubbed my chin raw, but I already knew, even then, just how much I loved him.”
On screen, the picture cut back to Grady, who winked and then grinned. Pamela tapped the spacebar and the video paused. Grady, even on the two-dimensional screen, seemed filled with energy. He almost exuded charisma.
Pamela sighed as if a tiny piece of her heart had just broken off and fallen into her belly. She then cradled her head in the crook of her arm on the table, in a way that allowed her to continue to gaze at Grady on the laptop screen. “I’ll be with you soon. I promise, Grady. I promise.”
THE ESCAPE
CHAPTER SIX
The Interrogation Room — Moments Later
After only a few peaceful moments with Grady’s still image on the computer, Erwin burst back into the interrogation room and startled Pamela.
He slammed the door behind him and paused to assess her. His demeanor was different than before. He seemed more forceful, his chest all puffed out as if he had just stepped to center stage to perform a monologue or carve the Thanksgiving turkey. “I just can’t let this … this charade continue. Grady wouldn’t have wanted it this way.” He crossed to the laptop and, rather determinedly, slammed it closed.
“You know … knew Grady?” Pamela curled her arm over the laptop protectively, and a minor tug-of-war ensued until Erwin managed to wrestle it away from her. He tucked it under his arm, held a hand out to Pamela, and beckoned.
“Come. Come.” Pamela didn’t move. “I’m getting you out of here,” Erwin insisted.
“But … why suddenly … do you really think that’s a good idea? It seems like I should just answer the questions I can answer.”
Erwin, completely ignoring Pamela, purposefully crossed to a nearby ventilation cover. Then, realizing he couldn’t hold the computer and remove the cover at the same time, he awkwardly returned the laptop to the table. Pamela immediately placed a protective hand on top of it.
“Grady kept a picture of you, totally against regulation, on his money clip.” Erwin turned back to the cover, retrieved a small electric screwdriver from his jacket pocket, and started to remove the screws. “And when asked about it, he would just smile, like it was this secret that no one could ever understand even if he shared.” He finished removing the screws and propped the cover against the wall. “There’s a lot riding on this. Maybe more than you know.” He held out his hand to Pamela again. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
After a contemplative moment, Pamela made a decision. She hugged the laptop to her chest and then took Erwin’s hand.
He pulled her up out of the chair and toward the vent. “You climb in, I’ll follow.”
“But doesn’t that just lead to the furnace? And …” She lifted the heavy fabric of her dress.
Erwin, not daunted, laced his fingers together and leaned down to offer Pamela the use of his hands for a step. Pamela, doubtfully, placed her foot in Erwin’s palms. Her strapped sandals were shimmery pink. Her bare toes — she didn’t like nylons — were painted in Opi’s classic I’m A Princess, You’re Not polish. Erwin heaved her upward.
She was heavier than she looked.
Erwin grunted, turned a little red in the face, and couldn’t seem to steady Pamela.
Pamela flailed, then managed to grab the edge of the duct. She slid the laptop in, wedging her upper body after it.
Erwin gathered her skirt and legs as he tried to push her farther into the shaft. But, as he couldn’t get all the massive yards of fabric to fit, he was soon frustrated and exhausted.
Pamela, her voice muffled by the duct, loathed being unkind. But, as she was rapidly losing sensation in her legs, she pointed out Erwin’s ill-conceived escape plan by tentatively asking, “Can’t we just use the door?”
“Fine!”
Erwin maneuvered underneath Pamela — her dress could have doubled as a tent for two — and grabbed her waist to pull her out of the vent. As he stumbled forward from the momentum, he barely managed to stop from slamming his face into the concrete floor. Pamela, on the other hand, neatly managed to stay upright, the laptop still firmly pressed against her chest.
Erwin, embarrassed and a little pissed, scrambled to his feet and crossed to the door. He pulled a gun from his side holster and held a finger to his lips to caution Pamela. Her eyes widened at the sight of the gun, she hadn’t known he was armed before, though logically, given his black ops claim, she supposed the gun came with the job.
He carefully opened the door and looked out.
“Clear,” Erwin said, then he stepped out into the hall.
Pamela obediently followed.
•••••••••
Even if he’d never admit to it Erwin knew he was a lesser version of Grady. Not as smooth around the edges, not quite as handsome, and nowhere near as charming. He didn’t have hobbies; he played sports. Soccer and basketball, specifically. He wasn’t particularly good at either, but he didn’t mind long shifts. He had to be exhausted to sleep these days. A woman once asked him during a particularly bad date — for her not him — what his sign was, and he’d had no idea what she was asking. This turned out to be just fine for the date, as she wasn’t going to go out with him a second time anyway, and had just been trying to prove a point to herself. She suspected he was a Leo. He wasn’t.
•••••••••
They moved in tandem up the nondescript hallway of the Undisclosed Location. No identifying symbols marked the walls. No ‘Exit’ or other signs labeled the doors. Without a good sense of direction, it would be easy to get lost. Pamela, of course, had no idea where they were. She’d been blindfolded when they brought her in. The car ride couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes from the cemetery, though, so it was obvious that they were still on the North Shore.
Erwin, his gun held in a ready position, side-stepped along the wall as he led Pamela away from the interrogation room. Pamela trailed behind, but didn’t bother to skirt the wall. No one seemed to be in the immediate vicinity.
They neared a perpendicular hall, which, being painted the same gray as the corridor walls, seemed to appear out of nowhere. The paint was only a slightly lighter gray than the concrete floor, which didn’t help matters. Erwin held a cautionary hand out to Pamela, then dive-rolled forward into the mouth of the perpendicular hall, coming up on one knee. His gun now pointed down the new corridor. It was a well-executed move, one Erwin often practiced at home, but there was no one around to truly admire it.
Pamela didn’t bother to pause when cautioned. Therefore heedless of impending danger, she crossed to stand behind Erwin.
This perpendicular hall was empty as well.
Flustered, Erwin jumped up and pulled Pamela across the opening to continue along the same corridor as before. “When I hold my hand like this …” — he once again held up a cautionary hand — “… you need to wait.”
“All right.”
Seemingly satisfied that his lesson had sunk in, Erwin continued onward. As they neared another steel door, he paused to address Pamela. “I don’t think you understand the trouble you’re in, or the people who would hurt you for what you know. Grady wouldn’t want that. You shouldn’t want that.”
“You’re right,” Pamela said. Erwin looked suddenly elated. “I don’t want to hurt anymore.” Erwin’s face fell and a flash of anger marred his boy-next-door features. Bottling up his rage, he got himself under control. It was a struggle. “I can protect you,” he said. “Tell me everything you know. I’ll take the heat, hide you away to let you heal, let you rediscover life.” He stroked Pamela’s cheek; she flinched at the contact. “Wouldn’t that be for the best?”
“I don’t want to rediscover life.”
Erwin clamped a hard hand against Pamela’s mouth, pressing her against the wall while looking frantically around. “Shhh … someone’s coming.”
Pamela, now wide eyed, couldn’t turn her head to verify this statement, but it didn’t sound like anyone was near. Erwin’s behavior felt more than a little put on. The bobby pins holding her elaborate French twist in place dug into the back of Pamela’s head where Erwin pressed her against the wall. This didn’t help with the headache, but Pamela welcomed the punishment. It felt like she was letting Grady down every minute she continued to breathe.
Erwin opened the nearby door and shoved Pamela through. All the while, he kept his hand clamped over her mouth. Then, looking rather satisfied, he slammed the door behind her and brushed his hands together as if dusting them off.
•••••••••
Darkness.
Pamela flicked the light switch on, then looked around at the she
lving and cleaning supplies surrounding her. She seemed to be in a janitor’s closet. Or were they still called broom closets even if they held more than brooms?
Erwin shouted, rather muted by the thick steel door. “This isn’t right, I tell you. I refuse to let you have her.” No one answered, but then Pamela heard a few faraway pops that might be gunfire. If that was what a gun firing sounded like.
Not at all concerned with whatever was happening in the hall, she sat cross-legged on the floor. Her dress spread around her like a lily pad. She placed the computer in front of her and opened it.
Erwin yelled again, seemingly right next to the door. He might have been shouting into it. “You’ll have to go through me to get at her.”
More popping noises followed this statement.
“So be it!” Erwin yelled, his voice muffled but again, oddly clearer than it should have been in a gunfight. Not that Pamela had ever been in a gunfight. Except she would have thought that no matter how Erwin pressed against it, a closed door really didn’t provide much cover. Especially in a long corridor during a shoot-out. But then, she really knew nothing about anything anymore except for the empty space in her chest where her heart had once beaten solely for Grady, and she didn’t care about much else. Still … it was a little odd.
More gunfire.
Pamela clicked open the email application on her laptop, then opened a file folder titled: Grady and Pamela in Barcelona.
She highlighted all the emails in the folder and moved the cursor over to the delete button. She paused, uncertain. Her finger hovered over the touchpad.
Erwin, panting as if winded, flung open the door. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep them all at bay.” Then, thrown to see Pamela hunched over the computer, he choked on his own spit. “What are you doing?” He hacked out the words.
“I just can’t. I can’t lose these as well, not voluntarily.”
“You stupid, little …” Erwin snapped his jaw shut with a nasty click, then got himself reigned in, barely. Burning with anger, he wrenched the computer from Pamela and slammed it closed. With the laptop secured, he yanked her to her feet by her upper arm, giving her a good shake in the process.
Love Lies Bleeding Page 3
