by Nick James
“They’ve got me doing some sort of daily regimen apparently meant to increase my suffering.”
If only. “Any news on when you’ll be returning to City View?”
“If I had anything to say about it, never. Apparently my wishes lie somewhere down at the bottom of what’s actually going to happen.”
“I’m sure everyone is working toward the best outcome for you.”
“Please, spare me your pity. Have you anything of import to convey? If not, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave, thank you for your time, but I’ve got this torture regime to attend to,” Denton said then grimaced and gave an audible gasp as he took a step and seemed to clench the walker even tighter.
Bobby held his breath, hoping for a fall as he watched Denton grimace again when he took another small step. Clearly the exercise was causing him pain and the thought brightened Bobby’s mood. “All right sir, I’ll let you get back to it,” Bobby said and wondered if there wasn’t some way he could make the floor slippery.
“I’ll be sure to call should I need anything,” Denton said then grimaced again with the next step.
Bobby stopped at the nurses’ station on his way out. There was only one woman there this morning and she didn’t look familiar.
“Hi, my father is in number seven.”
She gave a grim sort of smile and said, “Mr. Denton.” The smile conveying far more than her words.
“Yeah. How is he doing?”
“Given his age, pretty well. Not the happiest patient on the wing.”
“That’s him,” Bobby said. “Would it help to get him back on some painkillers? I noticed he didn’t have an IV.”
“Those were his instructions, no pain medication, and he is clearly lucid. You might check with his doctor if you feel the need, but unless there is some sort of emergency or possibly a decline, there’s really nothing we can do. He’s scheduled for a transfer on Sunday.”
“Back to City View.”
“I believe so.”
“Okay, thanks for your time. Hope you have a quiet day.”
One of the computers began beeping behind her. She turned round to check the screen, said, “Oh-oh,” and was on her feet heading toward a room, unfortunately, Bobby thought not Denton’s.
Out in the hospital parking ramp Bobby phoned Morris Montcreff with an update. Montcreff was even crabbier than Denton and from the sound of chewing, in the middle of breakfast.
“If he’s clearly in pain why aren’t the bastards giving him something for it? It’s a damn hospital for God’s sake.”
“His instructions. I asked about that specifically. They told me I’d have to check with his doctor.”
“God, anything else?”
“No sir, I’m meeting with a family member of Elizabeth Saunders, she’s the woman who…”
“I know who the hell she is, damn it.”
“I hope to dissuade the family from pressing charges.”
“Goddamn, between that family of fools and the gang of idiots setting up their own firm maybe it’s time for a little common sense to be drilled into people’s heads.”
Bobby waited for a follow-up to that last statement, but nothing came. Finally Montcreff growled, “Anything else?”
“No, sir, just wanted…”
Montcreff hung up.
Chapter Seventy-Four
Emily arrived a stylish half hour late. Bobby buzzed her in the front door of the building then watched her through the peephole in the door as she stepped off the elevator, wheeling a small red suitcase behind her. She had on what looked like a silk blouse with jewel-like buttons and a short black skirt. A wide belt wrapped around her waist with a large, jeweled buckle, black heels completed her ensemble. She seemed to stagger for half a step, but she was also in some pretty tall heels so he couldn’t be sure if she had been drinking. He waited until she knocked on the door, then watched her as she stepped back, adjusted her hair and tugged at her blouse.
“Well, look who’s here,” he said as he opened the door. He was wearing a pair of black jeans and a starched black shirt.
Emily flashed a smile, looked at Bobby’s clothes and said, “Jesus, did someone die or am I going to get screwed by Johnny Cash?” She leaned forward, planted a big wet kiss on his lips and began to slip her tongue in his mouth. Bobby could taste the liquor and when he pulled away a moment later she sort of stumbled forward then looked at him with bloodshot eyes.
“Miss me?” she said and wheeled the little red suitcase around in front of her for him to take.
“Planning on staying?” he only half joked.
“I’m planning on a lot of things,” she said and attempted to gesture with her hands in a way that made Bobby think she really might be drunk. “First thing is, you could get me a gin martini, Bombay Sapphire if you happen to have it.”
“I do.”
“Perfect, and two olives, please.”
“Coming right up.”
Emily liked the first martini so much she had a second. She was sipping her third while sitting at the kitchen counter as Bobby took the dinner plates out of the oven. He’d ordered two dinners to go from a small Italian restaurant in the neighborhood and had arranged the food on plates so it more or less looked like he had cooked the meal.
He placed a plate in front of Emily, lit two candles and dimmed the kitchen lights. “Better finish that up.” He indicated her martini with a nod. “I’ve got a very nice wine for you,” he said then proceeded to fill her wineglass from one of the bottles he’d stolen from her cabin.
“Hmm-mmm, so sweet and so romantic,” she said and downed the martini, almost dropping the glass as she attempted to set it on the granite counter.
“Here, allow me,” Bobby said half catching the glass before she knocked it onto the floor.
She reached over to rub his thigh as he sat down and almost fell off her stool. “My, doesn’t this just look fucking delicious.” She smiled in a way that made him think she couldn’t see past the end of her nose.
“Oh God,” she groaned a half hour later. She’d dribbled red wine down the front of her blouse, dropped at least two pieces of chicken and a forkful of pasta onto her lap and looked like she was having trouble keeping her eyes open.
“More wine?” Bobby asked.
“Why not,” she said, barely able to get both words out. She emptied her glass then thrust it forward as her head wove from side to side.
Bobby smiled as he nodded, refilled her glass almost to the rim as she swerved it left and right, oblivious. “Allow me,” he said taking the glass from her before she dropped it on the floor. Her eyes were at half mast and she seemed completely unaware of her surroundings.
“Have a sip,” he said and held the glass to her lips. She took a swallow, then another, and another. She began to shake her head, and half coughed into the glass spraying more red wine across the front of her blouse and onto the kitchen counter.
“Drink up, bitch,” Bobby said and heard her gulp noisily until the glass was empty.
“Oh, God, baby, it’s bedtime” she said and staggered off her stool.
Bobby barely caught her, grabbing her just before her forehead crashed into the edge of the granite countertop. He grabbed her arm, then wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her into the bedroom.
She came alive for a half minute, falling face first onto the bed then reaching behind and pulling her skirt up over her rear, exposing a red silk thong. “Help yourself to…” she never finished whatever she was going to say, passed out over the edge of his bed.
He undressed her, dropping her clothes to the floor, then opened the little red suitcase. There were close to a dozen sex toys, a bottle of lubricant, handcuffs, a blindfold, a black negligee, and a couple of items that he wasn’t sure what they were.
He attempted to slip the negligee on her but gave up after a couple of minutes and tossed it onto the floor. He pulled the covers back, lifted her up onto the bed then clicked the handcuffs around her left w
rist and attached the other end to the headboard. He pulled the pink blindfold over her eyes, turned out the light and quietly pulled the door closed.
By the time he was finished putting the dishes in the dishwasher and cleaning up the gin, wine and food that Emily had spilled it was close to eleven. He placed his cellphone on the kitchen counter and left.
Chapter Seventy-Five
It was almost two and raining softly while Bobby waited down the street before the last car finally pulled away. The brake lights flashed at the far corner as Bobby pulled on his surgical gloves and made his way up to the front door. He quietly pulled the screen door open then rang the doorbell.
A moment later the door opened and Tommy Amato half joked, “What did you forget this time?” just as Bobby slammed into the storm door with his shoulder, catching Tommy along the side of his head and knocking him backwards. Before he could recover Bobby launched an upward swing with his sap, an athletic sock filled with sand, that caught Tommy on the chin, snapped his jaw and sent him tumbling backwards onto a card table. Cards, poker chips, drink glasses, an ashtray and the table all crashed to the floor.
Tommy half rolled over the broken glass and onto all fours for a brief moment but just as he attempted to get to his feet Bobby raised the sap and swung with all his might. This time he caught Tommy on the side of his head causing an audible snap and he collapsed onto the floor where he proceeded to convulse and twitch while Bobby just stood and watched.
After a minute or two Bobby grabbed him by the shoulder and rolled him over onto his back. Tommy’s head rested at an odd angle and Bobby stomped a foot on his chest then wound up and hit him another half dozen times with the sap, slamming Tommy’s head from side to side with every blow until it flopped back and forth.
Tommy lay quietly on his back with glazed eyes. Bobby placed his hand on his neck to check for a pulse but couldn’t find one. Just to be on the safe side he walked into the kitchen, found a plastic bag in the recycle bin that looked like it had come from the dry cleaners and carried it back out to the living room. He wrapped the bag around Tommy’s head, turned the lights out in the living room then picked up the remote for the flat screen and clicked on Netflix.
He watched a comedy from start to finish, snacking on a bowl of chips and some salsa he found in the kitchen with Tommy Amato laying on the floor with the plastic bag wrapped around his head.
It was close to four when Bobby drove Tommy’s Nissan around to the back and pulled it into the garage. Then he went back in the house, dragged Tommy out across the small backyard and placed him in the trunk of the car. He grabbed a shovel leaning against the workbench and placed it in the trunk then took a brown paper grocery bag from the recycle bin, stuffed what looked like a clothesline rope in the bag and threw it in the trunk with Tommy. Then Bobby walked down the alley, around the block, climbed into his car, tossed Tommy’s keys in the glove compartment and drove home.
* * *
She was asleep, or more accurately still passed out in his bed with the pink blindfold over her eyes. Bobby quietly unlocked the handcuff from the headboard then scattered her sexual appliances around the bed and on the floor. He poured a third of the bottle of lubricant down the kitchen drain then quietly undressed and slipped into bed next to her.
He slept soundly until almost eight, which was late for him then quietly got dressed while Emily continued to snore. She had apparently pulled the pink blindfold off her head sometime after he’d climbed in bed and now she held one of her sexual toys in her right hand.
It was a grey morning and last night’s rain continued when Bobby tiptoed out to the kitchen, made some coffee then fired up his computer and read the news at the kitchen counter. He heard Emily make her way to the bathroom a little before ten, then heard her swearing back in the bedroom and he figured she was just now aware of the state of her clothes.
“How are you doing, party animal?” he said leaning against the doorframe.
“God, look at my blouse, it’s, it’s ruined, absolutely destroyed,” she said and held it up for him to see. Red wine stains covered the front of the blouse.
“Maybe the drycleaners can…”
“Are you kidding, look at this thing. God, my head, how drunk was I?”
“Real.”
“Did we, umm?”
“You are quite the little machine, you put on an incredible show.”
That seemed to cheer her up and she smiled, then picked up her bra and pulled it on. “Hook me up, will you. God I promised my mom I’d help her this morning, she just obsesses about paperwork and shit. Matter of fact we’re meeting with an attorney.”
“About your sister?”
“Yeah, actually there’s two of them. They seem to think we have a real good case,” she said then looked around on the floor, saw her skirt and pulled it out from underneath the bed.
“What the hell is this, did I puke?” she said as she attempted to adjust her skirt and saw the stains from the chicken and pasta she’d dropped onto her lap.
“No, let’s just say you were feeling no pain by the time we ate.”
“We ate? God, I can’t even remember. What’d we have?” she asked then started to pick up her toys from the floor and toss them into her suitcase.
“I made a nice chicken and pasta, you liked it.”
“Well apparently we had some fun,” she said and held up the bottle of lubricant.
“You were fantastic, almost too much to handle.”
She nodded like she’d heard that a number of times before. “God, Bobby, I’m so sorry, but I’ve really got to run, I’m already late and my mom is going to go nuts.”
“Maybe a couple of aspirin on your way?”
She seemed to think for half a second then said, “Actually, that’s probably a really good idea.”
Bobby got the aspirin and poured her a glass of water while she looked for her shoes. “Well, let’s hope that does the trick,” she said as she set the glass down on the kitchen counter. “Sorry, but I’ve got to run. Thanks, I really enjoyed myself.”
“It was definitely memorable,” Bobby said then watched her through the peephole as she hurried down the hallway and onto the elevator. She had her cellphone out and he heard her say “Hello, Mom,” just before she stepped onto the elevator where her call would no doubt get cut off.
Chapter Seventy-Six
It was well after eight before it was dark enough for Bobby to feel comfortable. He drove over to Tommy’s house and parked in front, looking for any sign of activity. The house was dark except for the front porch light which had probably been on all day long.
He was dressed in dark clothes again. The same black jeans, plus a dark sweatshirt and a baseball cap. He made his way up to the front steps, opened the screen door then quickly slipped the key in the lock and entered. Even in the dark he could make out the damage in the room, the overturned table, broken drink glasses, ashtrays and cigarette butts on the carpet. He toyed with cleaning up the mess but decided there was the chance of leaving a finger print or DNA and made his way to the garage.
He had a brief laugh when he noticed the small statue of the Blessed Virgin attached to the dash, then backed the car out of the garage. He drove down the alley and headed to his next destination. On the way he stopped at the grocery store and picked up a bouquet of yellow mums.
He drove around the block three different times but never saw Angie’s Kia. He pulled to the curb and waited. After the better part of an hour a car parked across the street and a man got out. He looked vaguely familiar, but Bobby couldn’t place him as he watched the guy unlock the security door and enter the building.
A few minutes after that a couple parked their car and headed for the front door of the building. Bobby hurried out of the car and watched as the couple pressed the security intercom.
“Hi, it’s us,” they said. A moment later the door buzzed, a lock clicked and they pulled the door open just as Bobby came up behind them with his bouquet of flowers
.
The woman looked at him for a brief moment then focused on the flowers and said, “Lovely.”
Bobby nodded, then pulled out Tommy’s key ring and pretended to sort through the keys to find the one for the front lobby mailbox. The couple hurried down the hall and knocked on a door toward the far end never giving him a second look.
Bobby located Angie’s mailbox, listed for unit 212 and headed up the stairs. He waited at the far end of the second-story hallway back by the door to a rear staircase.
She was no more than a few minutes behind him. He heard the security door close on the first floor then spotted her as she came up the stairs. The hallway was dark, but her figure was illuminated from the street light shining through the stairwell window and casting an almost blue aura around her. With her back to the light he couldn’t really see her face, but he recognized the walk.
She ran her hand through her hair, smoothed her skirt and almost seemed to be primping although Bobby knew her husband was pulling another weekend stint at the hospital. She stood in front of her apartment door and fumbled with her keys for a moment.
Bobby quietly moved toward her, holding the bouquet of yellow flowers in front of his face. He was halfway down the dark hall before Angie gave a quick glance and went back to her key ring. Then, almost as if something had suddenly occurred to her, she raised her head and looked straight ahead. She glanced in Bobby’s direction, fumbled with her keys, quickly glanced again just as Bobby started to run.
The key in the lock suddenly made an audible click and the door swung open. Angie hurried inside and tried to close the door, shouting, “Nate, Nate.”
Bobby planted his foot inside the apartment just in time to stop the door from closing then shouldered his way in dropping the bouquet of flowers to the floor.
