by Sandra Cox
“Now what’s wrong with brother Jack?”
“Like I told your sister, Miss…”
“Tremaine.” For the first time Maureen noticed the man standing behind Bella. She wasn’t sure how she could have missed him. Built like a bull, he had a shaved head and was about her height.
“Detective.” The doctor turned a relieved glance to the man behind Bella.
“Doctor,” he nodded his head. “It’s okay, go ahead and fill these young women in.” He neither confirmed nor denied their claim to kinship.
“Well as I was trying to tell this young woman…”
“Maureen,” Bella put in.
“Maureen,” he repeated. “His body is shutting down. It’s almost like he’s had blowfish poisoning but that’s not possible. There was no blowfish in his stomach, we pumped it. But the symptoms are classic saxitoxin poisoning. We are doing everything we can but by the time he was brought here he was already pretty far gone. He must have the constitution of a horse to keep him hanging on this long. The poison has spread throughout his system.”
A harried looking nurse stepped up to them, her crisp whites rustling at odds with the tired expression on her face. “Dr. Smith, you’re wanted in OR.”
He turned to Maureen. “I’ve got to go. If he has a living will please bring it to the hospital. I would advice notifying the rest of your family.”
Maureen clenched her teeth, fisted her fingers and prepared to swing. Bella’s hand tightened painfully on her shoulder.
“Thank you, Doctor,” Bella gushed.
Maureen watched the doctor walk away clenching and unclenching her teeth. She whirled on Bella. “Did you hear what that jerk just said?”
Bella shifted Maureen around. “Let’s go see, Jack, honey. What room did you say he was in?”
Maureen jerked her head at the closed door with the room number 310 above it.
Bella sashayed up to the bed as if she’d just bumped into an old friend in a restaurant, instead of speaking to someone whose muscles resembled a puddle of gelatin. “Jack, honey, what are you doing here?” She clasped his flaccid hand.
“If that don’t get his heart to pumping he’s a dead man,” the detective muttered under his breath, earning him a frown of displeasure from Maureen.
Bent over the bed, Bella continued to chat, still holding Jack’s hand. “I hear our friend paid you a visit. Whatever you did it must have purely pissed him off. But you are not to worry. Not only is Chicago’s finest,” she turned her head and threw the detective a brilliant smile that had his eyes crossing, “on it but Marnie and I are going to do a little nosing around of our own.”
I have so misjudged her. On top of all the other emotions rolling through her system, Maureen felt a wave of shame. So what if Bella dressed like a Barbie doll? Beneath the makeup and sexy clothes was a woman with a shrewd brain and a large heart.
Standing next to Maureen, the detective shook his head and whispered, “Poor bastard. I’ve seen some sick people in my time but to leave a man no better than a vegetable then come back to check his handiwork… Well there’s a special place in hell for people like that.”
Maureen grabbed his arm and hustled him out the door. “Detective, let’s talk outside.”
“There’s nothing wrong with his hearing you know,” she hissed as the door closed.
The detective shrugged. “Who’s to say? If his muscles are anything to go by his hearing isn’t worth a damn.”
Maureen’s jaw clenched and she fisted her fingers then jammed them in her slacks pocket. I can’t hit a policeman. I can’t hit a policeman. She repeated it like a litany.
He pulled the inevitable notebook from his shirt pocket and thumbed through it. “You would be Maureen Sinclair.”
“I would and you would be?” She lifted her brows, waiting, her temper hanging on by a thread.
He flashed the badge pinned on his belt. “Macko. Detective Macko.”
“Detective Macko,” she took a deep breath and strove for calm. God what I wouldn’t give for the amulet right now. I need a clear head not one fogged with emotion. “Can you tell me what happened to Jack?”
He took her elbow and led her down the hall. “Let’s grab a cup of coffee.” At the end of the hall was a small waiting room decorated in restful shades of blue and mauve. A serene picture of a garden with a fountain at its center hung on the wall. The room was empty. A full pot of coffee sat on a stand at the end of the room.
Maureen lifted her nose and sniffed. Ah, fresh. At least, something is going right.
Macko motioned her down then went and poured them each a cup of coffee. He turned his head. “Take anything in it.”
“No.”
He walked over, handed her a cup and sat down beside her.
Maureen lifted it and let the wet steam seep into the pores of her face. She closed her eyes, feeling the tension in her neck and shoulders ease. We’ll be okay, Jack. Somehow we’ll be okay.
She opened her eyes and found him watching her.
She straightened and squared her shoulders back against the chair, knowing distrust flickered behind her eyes. “Well?”
He took a cautious sip of his coffee. “Someone found him in an alley and called 9-1-1.”
“Who?”
He shook his head. “There’s no connection there. A couple of kids were looking for cans to recycle. He’d been laid next to a dumpster.”
“Like someone’s day-old trash?” The tension was back and more, anger sung through her veins. It was quite simple really. She would kill Victor Price for this.
“More or less. We were about to start tracking down family when we got a call from Detective Cardoza.” He grinned. “He’s my sister’s kid.”
Uh oh. “He’s a very nice man.”
He gave her the cop look. Cool. Appraising. “I believe he has an interest in you.”
She sipped her coffee then raised her head. “We went out once. As I said he’s a nice man.”
“You could do worse and that one in there isn’t going to make it. You need to prepare yourself for that.”
She took a deep breath then another. One, two, three… When she hit eight, Maureen felt she could answer without screaming. She looked directly into Macko’s eyes. “You’re wrong, Detective. He is going to make it. But I need you to help me find Victor Price.”
He leaned forward. “What’s the connection?”
Knowing her face registered every emotion she felt, Maureen schooled her facial muscles to what she hoped was a blank expression. “I don’t know. I only know he is the man who ran me off the road. I imagine your nephew told you about that?”
He nodded.
“And he is the same man I saw on the stairwell, the man who stuck his head in Jack’s room.” Her breathing quick and shallow, she fought for control. “To taunt him.” Hot coffee sloshed over her hand as she squeezed the cup. She sat it down hastily and rose for a napkin. Her back to the detective she asked as she dabbed at her hands and pants, “What kind of man would do something that cruel, Detective and please don’t say an animal. Animals aren’t cruel. They are straightforward, sometimes cunning but not deliberately cruel.”
“I was going to say a mad one,” he answered mildly.
“Miss Sinclair.”
She turned, still dabbing at her pants. “Yes?”
“What is it you’re not telling me?”
“Detective?”
In an absent gesture, he ran his fingers across his chin, studying her. “I’m not a well-educated man. I don’t have a PhD like that poor bastard back there.” He jerked his head in the direction of Jack’s room. “But I’m a good cop. Are you a Catholic, Miss Sinclair?”
Her head jerked up. “Excuse me?”
“Are you a Catholic?”
“No and what does that have to do with anything?”
“Have you ever heard the term ‘sin of omission’?”
She met his gaze and willed her heart thumping against her rib cage to a more
normal beat. “Yes, Detective, I have.”
* * * * *
So the woman had come. He would take infinite pleasure in dealing with her too. The power amulet would have to wait. What was the point in being a god if you couldn’t make lesser mortals respect and fear you?
Chapter Thirteen
They held eye contact ’til a voice from the door distracted. “Whatcha all look so serious about?”
Thank God. Bella stood leaning against the doorway, her hip jutted at a provocative angle. Maureen flashed a smile of welcome. “Bella come in. The detective and I were just discussing sins of omission.”
Bella sashayed—there could be no other word for it—in. “You a Catholic, honey?”
“No, sugar, are you?” Maureen shot back.
“We’ll make a Southern belle out of you yet,” Bella responded, unperturbed. “But back to your question, I’m from Georgia, honey. I’m a Southern Baptist.”
Macko cleared his throat, his expression dazed. “Ladies, I think we’ll discuss this another time. I’ve got a report I have to fill out.”
He got up and offered a parting shot. “You’d think being sisters and all you’d know each other’s religion.”
“You caught us dead to rights, sugar,” Bella responded unfazed.
As he started to leave the room, Bella laid her fingers on Macko’s arm.
Maureen glanced at the blonde’s long red lacquered nails then down at her own short unadorned ones and felt an unexpected jolt of envy.
“Detective, what are we going to do about that boy in there?” Bella slipped her arm through Macko’s and walked him down the hall with Maureen trailing behind.
“Ms. Tremaine, I’m afraid there’s just not a whole lot we can do. I’m short-handed and don’t have much to go on other than Ms. Sinclair’s statement that she saw the same man who attacked her enter Dr. Wolfe’s room.”
She patted his arm. “Oh, I understand, Detective. A man in your position has a lot of responsibility. Why Chicago’s one of the biggest cities in the country. I can’t begin to imagine the crime rate.”
Maureen bit back a grin as Bella leaned against him and widened her baby blue eyes.
“It keeps us hopping,” Macko said.
“Oh I’m sure it does. I can’t begin to tell you how much we appreciate all the help you’ve all ready given us, don’t we, Maureen?” Not waiting for an answer she continued on. “And I’m going to personally call Tony’s chief, you don’t mind if I call your handsome young nephew Tony do you.” Again she continued on without waiting for an answer. “And tell him how helpful he’s been.” She stopped as if struck by a thought.
The detective and Maureen obligingly stopped also.
“What was I thinking,” Bella exclaimed batting her baby blues again. “I should be calling your chief and tell him how helpful you’ve been to two defenseless women and a poor man who was all but left for dead on the streets of your fair city.”
“Now, ma’am, that’s not necessary.” The detective gave her an uneasy look.
“But of course it is. You aren’t up for promotion are you? Finding this dastardly criminal who’s crossed the state line will probably be a huge coupe for you.”
“I suppose I could spare one officer to set outside Dr. Wolfe’s door for a day or two,” he conceded.
They started walking again, skirting a little old lady in a wheelchair.
“Victor Price is smart. If he sees a uniformed officer he won’t show himself. Do you think maybe a plainclothes officer? Of course, you know best.”
The detective cleared his throat. “For one night maybe two but that’s the best I can do.”
They reached the elevator. Bella reached out and pushed the down button. “You are going to be commissioner one of these days,” she said, her smile admiring.
“Are you by chance in sales, Ms. Tremaine?”
She grinned. “No, there’s too much blarney in that line of work if you get my drift, Detective.”
“Oh I read you loud and clear.”
The elevator door glided open. The detective stepped in and stood with his feet splayed and his hands crossed over his stomach. As the door started to close he said, “We’ll finish that chat soon, Ms. Sinclair.”
“I look forward to it, Detective Macko.”
The door closed with a soft thump.
The two women faced each other. Maureen shook her head in wonder. “I bow to the master.”
“Stick with me kid and learn.” Bella’s tone was brisk with not even a hint of drawl to it. “Let’s go check on Jack.”
* * * * *
Hoping to draw Victor out, the women agreed that even with a plainclothes officer on duty it would be best if one of them was there around the clock. The man’s ego was so huge they both believed he would make another appearance.
It was Maureen’s turn. She sat in the orange plastic-covered chair next to Jack, her elbows resting on the wooden arms reading a horse breeder’s magazine.
She looked up as the door swung open.
The plainclothes officer stuck his head in. “Ma’am, I’ve been called back to the station, an emergency. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary.”
She nodded. “Thanks, officer.” As the door swung shut, she glanced at Jack. He still wore an oxygen mask and even with oxygen his breathing was labored. She leaned over and squeezed his hand. “Hang in there, Jack. I know he’ll show and when he does, I’ll get the amulet back.”
She settled back in her chair, rustling the magazine as she turned a page.
The door opened and a nurse walked in holding a syringe. Maureen studied her. She hadn’t seen her before. The woman was tall and had beautiful long blonde hair and wore oversized glasses. “Hello.”
The nurse nodded.
A chill began to creep up her spine. The policeman had been called away and she didn’t recognize this nurse. Letting the magazine drop to the floor, she eased forward in her chair. “What are you giving him?”
The nurse stepped to the bed then turned to Maureen. “Not him, dear, you.”
Maureen reached for the syringe.
The nurse lifted it out of her reach.
Maureen grabbed a handful of long blonde hair and yanked. The wig came off in her hands.
Before she could scream, Victor’s fist shot out, connecting with her jaw hard enough for her to see stars. “Don’t,” she whispered. The wig fell to the floor as she tried to fend him off but she was too weak and her head was spinning.
She watched the needle come closer and closer.
Just before it pricked her skin, the door burst open.
Victor whirled around.
Bella’s purse hit him in the face with enough force to knock him backward. Before he could react she lifted a shapely leg and jammed a spiky red stiletto heel hard into his crotch. “Grab the amulets,” she yelled.
Maureen reached shakily for his left arm and encountered crisp starched cotton but beneath it she felt the boji stone and came jarringly back to life as energy ran through her like a lightning bolt. She had to get it off Victor before the amulet rejuvenated him and he was already showing signs of recovering from the hard sharp kick in the groin.
“Hurry, hurry,” Bella said.
Victor started to straighten. “I’m sorry about this, shug,” Bella muttered to Jack. She grabbed the pole holding Jack’s IV.
Maureen could only watch in horror as the tape and needles ripped out of Jack’s hand, blood running in rivulets down his fingers. Bella swung it like a baseball bat and caught Victor in the face with the aluminum pole. He dropped without a sound. “Now get the amulet,” Bella directed, her voice cool.
Maureen bent down and fumbled with his long-sleeved starchy blouse. Victor began to moan. “He’s going to come around.” Great beads of sweat poured down her forehead and into her eyes as her hands trembled with haste.
Bella dumped the huge yellow purse she carried onto the floor. Lipstick and variou
s other items went skittering across the white tiles. A pair of scissors clattered to the floor. She grabbed them. “Here, cut his sleeve.”
Maureen jerked them out of her hands and cut his left sleeve. “He’s wearing them both.” She yanked them off his arm and threw the rose quartz to Bella. “Better slug him again.”
As Bella complied, Maureen turned to Jack. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart pinched as if someone squeezed it in a vise. “Bella, he’s not breathing.”
“God almighty, quick the amulet. They’ll be here any minute. Hurry!” She scrambled for the door and locked it just as someone tried to turn it.
A fist pounded. “Let me in. Quick. The monitor shows Dr. Wolfe is flat-lining. What the hell is going on in there?”
Maureen slipped the amulet on Jack’s wrist. Nothing. She leaned over the bed. “Come on, Jack. Come on. You haven’t had time to really go, this can still work.” Clasping her hands together, she shoved on his chest. “Damn you, breathe.”
The door began to thump and rattle.
“Hold them off, Bella, this is the only chance he has. They can’t save him but the amulet can.” She shoved down hard again and hissed, “Breathe, damn you, breathe.”
Was that a slight beat beneath her hand? She looked at the monitor but there were no dips or curves just that ghastly flat line.
Bella leaned against the door as the thumping got increasingly stronger. “Maureen.” Her voice was low and calm. “Maureen.”
“What?” Maureen said as she continued to pound on his heart.
“Not his heart, the amulet. Place your hands around the amulet.”
“Right.” She wrapped her fingers around the amulet pressing it into his flesh and hers. Her hands began to quiver. She felt a faint pulse. It grew steadily stronger. She wasn’t even aware she was crying until fat tears coursed down her cheeks and plopped on their joined hands.
The monitor beeped in normal rhythm. “Thank God.”
Jack opened his eyes. She looked down at him and smiled her lips trembling. “You’re going to be okay.”
Bella threw the door open. “Call the police. This maniac just attacked us.”
