by KJ Kalis
“Will do.” Gerald stayed by Vince aside for a second, tapping a few screens on his tablet. A moment later, he pushed it towards Vince pointing to a page where it showed Vince wanted to apply the seven hundred thousand dollars to the balance of what he owed. He tapped the acknowledgment box and then signed his name. “When you bring your notebook next time, I’ll update it for you. Frank said to let you gamble this time without it, but I’d suggest that you find it and bring it with you the next time you come, okay?”
Vince knew it was much more than just a kind reminder. It was a veiled threat. While yes, it was just a little notebook, it contained information that if it got into the wrong hands — namely law enforcement — it could get the family in a lot of trouble. If the Battaglia’s were in trouble, then Vince knew he would be as well. “Yes. I have it. I just forgot it,” he lied.
Gerald nodded, “Of course. Text me when you want to play again. I believe Mr. Battaglia said we will play here again next week.”
As Gerald spun on his heel and walked away, Vince set down the cup of coffee he’d been nursing. The buzz of the caffeine hit his system, making him feel like he’d slept a full night, when in fact, he’d had no sleep at all. He took one more look at the coffee, deciding to leave it where it was. Better to leave while he still could before he got caught up in another game. He gave a quick nod to Jess and a wave to the Ukrainian brothers as he walked away.
Out in the driveway, he started the Land Rover, feeling energized. It was one of the first times he’d taken a significant amount of money away from the Ukrainians. It was high time, he thought, pulling out of Frank’s driveway, the gate creeping closed silently behind him. He checked the time on his dashboard. It was almost four-thirty in the morning. He didn’t want to go home. He was too excited about his winnings. Stopped at a light, he used the location finder on his phone to track Marlowe, tapping on the screen that said, “Find Your Friends.” Let’s see where this crazy woman ended up, he thought. As the search spun, he half expected it to point him towards Montana. That would have been another win he realized. Instead, the search results came back and pointed to Chicago General Hospital. “What the…?”
The excitement Vince had at his winnings quickly turned into anger. Why hadn’t Marlowe left the city? What was she doing in the hospital? She’s probably in the psychiatric unit, he thought. Nuttier than a fruitcake. Getting on the freeway, without really thinking about it, he turned the Land Rover toward the hospital. Whatever Marlowe had planned by staying in the city, he needed to stop it and stop it now. He was on a winning streak and had a new deal with the Rossiter’s. There was no way he was going to let her interfere with his change of luck.
Pulling into the hospital parking lot, he straightened the collar on his jacket. He knew it wasn’t even close to visiting hours. That might be a good thing. Hospitals weren’t staffed as much overnight, so maybe he could get some information about what was going on with her without a hassle.
Stopping just inside the front door, he went to the information desk and approached an elderly man who was perched on a stool behind the desk. “Can I help you?” the man sighed.
“My cousin, Marlowe Burgess, she’s here in the hospital. I’m sorry, I know the timing is bad, but I just drove in from New York City. I’ve been so worried about her. Can you tell me where she is?”
Vince half expected the man to look at him and tell him to go sit in the waiting room until eight o’clock when visiting hours started but his face softened. “Well, you must love your cousin to drive the whole way in from New York. She’s upstairs, on the gynecology wing.” The man handed Vince a slip of paper with the room number on it. At the top it said visitors pass. “I’m not supposed to issue these overnight unless something’s really serious, but given the fact that you drove all night long just to see your cousin, well, that says something about you and your family, now doesn’t it? I hope she feels better soon.”
Vince swallowed, trying to look sad and grateful all at the same time. In some respects, he felt bad about lying to someone who seemed like such a nice man, but his luck was changing, and he wasn’t going to let anything get in the way. Especially not Marlowe. “Thank you so much for your kindness. I really appreciate it.” Vince smiled as he walked away.
The elevator beeped and the doors slid open on the gynecology floor. Vince was a little confused why Marlowe was in the hospital on the gynecology wing. It didn’t make any sense. He stood in the darkened hallway for just a moment, getting his bearings. He looked at the slip of paper the guy at the information desk had given him. From the signs on the wall, it looked like Marlowe’s room was to the right. He leaned around the corner, trying to determine where the nurse’s station was. The last thing he needed was some nosy nurse coming in bothering him while he was trying to figure out what was going on with Marlowe.
He took a couple of steps, turning down the hallway to the right, looking the entire time to his left, to make sure no one was coming. He wasn’t in the mood to answer questions. Three doors down on the right-hand side, he found Marlowe’s room. He peered around the corner before pushing the sliding glass door open and then closed behind him, pulling the curtain as well.
He stood for a second, his eyes adjusting to the dark glow of the room. Marlowe was asleep, the tuft of her blonde hair behind her, her back toward him. She was curled up in bed, the blankets pulled up under her arm. Her left arm had a blood pressure cuff on it. On the other side of the bed, there was a monitor, showing her heart rate and an IV pump with a clear bag of solution and a smaller bag of what Vince guessed was some sort of medication.
Vince took a couple of steps forward and poked Marlowe in the shoulder. “Marlowe,” he whispered.
It took a second before Marlowe stirred. Vince ended up shaking her again. “Marlowe, wake up,” he said more loudly, stepping back from the bed, feeling annoyed she was so hard to wake up.
When Marlowe finally stirred, rolling slightly to her left, her eyes widened. “Vince, what are you doing here? How did you know?” The monitors behind her beeped, the numbers for her heart rate and blood pressure rising.
Vince swallowed hard and gritted his teeth. If Marlowe thought this was a friendly visit in the middle of the night, she was dead wrong. “Why are you still in the city? Why are you in this hospital?”
Marlowe looked confused. Whether it was the medication or the fact that Vince had woken her up from a dead sleep, he wasn’t sure. She looked at him, twisting her head on the pillow, “What do you mean?”
Vince pushed down on her shoulder, leaning only about two inches from her face. His breathing felt heavy in his chest. “Why are you still in the city? Why are you in this hospital? Tell me now.”
Marlowe shrugged away from him as best she could while tethered by the blood pressure cuff and IV line in the bed. “After that night at the Lakeview. I got pregnant. I just had a miscarriage. Nearly died, if you want to know.”
The memory of that night at the Lakeview was foggy at best. It flashed across his mind in fragments. Vince had been drinking with the boys at the bar. Marlowe had called him, wanting to meet. He remembered thinking she just wanted to whine about the project again. He remembered yelling at her and shoving her, but nothing else. “You’re lying,” he hissed, feeling his heart pound in his chest. Once again, Marlowe was trying to ruin his life.
“I’m not.” Her face wrinkled as if she was about to burst into tears. “How could you not remember what you did to me?” she whispered.
Vince saw her reach for the call button. In one move, he whipped the pillow out from behind her head and stuffed it over her face, grabbing her wrist. He felt her kick and punch underneath him, but her slight frame was no match for him. Vince pressed down harder hoping she would stop struggling, the burn of adrenaline surging in his system. Time slowed. He could hear ragged breaths coming out of his own throat, the muscles in his arms burning from suffocating her. Marlowe’s monitors shrieked and beeped in the background.
�
��What’s going on in here?” a voice said behind him.
Vince turned in time to see a nurse wearing blue scrubs in the doorway. Vince’s heart nearly stopped. “Nothing,” he mumbled. He pulled the pillow off of Marlowe’s face and turned away from her, toward the nurse. He pushed past her, nearly knocking the nurse down.
Out in the hallway, his eyes darted left and right, looking for the stairwell. Finding the door, he pressed it open, realizing that Marlowe must have gotten the call into the nurse’s station just before he put the pillow over her face. Had his life resorted to this – trying to kill his former business partner? He shook off the thought, his ears buzzing with the surge of adrenaline in his system. On the bottom floor of the hospital, he slammed his body weight against the bar on the door and ran into the parking lot, finding his Land Rover. He got in, started it up and peeled away. As he got to the street, he realized that hospitals have surveillance cameras everywhere. Hopefully, they hadn’t gotten a picture of his license plate. If they had, it was all over. The Lakeview project would be gone, again. He’d end up in jail, probably with a shiv in his gut as repayment for his gambling debt.
Panic set in. He drove back to his apartment, not knowing what else to do. As he drove, the reality of what happened set in. Had Marlowe been lying? Had he raped her? Vince shook his head, trying to put the pieces together. He rubbed his fingers on his forehead, pushing his hair away from his face.
Once he got back to his apartment’s parking lot, he found a spot in the back, in the darkest corner of the lot. He turned off the engine, the car settling into the darkness. He checked his cell phone. It was nearly six o’clock in the morning. He’d had a great night gambling and then topped it off with nearly murdering someone. What was wrong with him? He shook his head as if trying to get the thoughts to straighten out. He leaned back in the driver’s seat. If Marlowe hadn’t managed to reach for the call button, everything would be over. She never ceased to amaze him. Every time he saw her, she found a new way to ruin his life.
Vince sat in the Land Rover for another minute or two, the flash of headlights blinding him as another car came in and parked across the lot. Vince got out of the car, locking it and used the back entrance to go up to his apartment.
It’d been a long night. It was going to be an even longer day.
34
“Here’s what I was looking for,” Mike said, twisting the computer toward Emily. On the screen, Emily could see the image of a man. “This is Frank Battaglia. He’s the one that runs the Battaglia family business for the most part. He’s a cousin of the guy who runs the whole thing. Nino.”
“So, Nino Battaglia is the head of the family?”
“Right. From the research I was able to dig up, it looks like Frank runs the real estate and the gambling side of the business. Somebody else runs the import-export business.”
Emily chewed her lip. “How did you find this out?”
“I have a friend who’s got a backdoor into the FBI database. He pulled the files for me.”
It was no surprise to Emily that Mike had friends that would share sensitive information at the drop of a hat. Mike told them that some of his friends believed everyone should have access to all the information on any topic. No more classified information anywhere. In a way, Emily understood what they were driving at, but she also understood it could put people in harm's way, if they exposed undercover agents, for instance. “This friend is reliable?”
“Absolutely. He’s one of the best hackers in the nation right now. Somebody told me he’s working on planting a bug in the NSA. Wants to get information on our relationship with aliens and figure out what we know.”
Emily raised her eyebrows, “Seriously?”
Mike nodded, “Yeah.” He wrinkled his forehead, “Wait? You don’t believe in UFOs? I didn’t know that about you. I have information I need to show you that might just change your mind…”
“Hold on, Area Fifty-One. Let’s solve one case at a time.” Mike’s conspiracy theories were always entertaining, but she needed to stay focused, not talk about his theories on aliens. Before she could ask Mike any more questions, she heard her phone ring in the other room. Getting up, she heard the tap of Miner’s nails following her, “I should have named you Shadow,” she muttered.
Emily got the phone just before rolled over to voicemail. “Hello?”
“Emily?”
The voice sounded like Marlowe, but her voice was hoarse. “Marlowe? Is everything okay?” Emily started to pace, knowing that the last time she’d seen Marlowe she was in the hospital. That was not more than twelve or fourteen hours before. Her voice sounded strange, like her throat was dry.
“Oh, thank God. Vince… he came to the hospital a few hours ago.”
Emily stopped moving, concentrating on the words that were coming out of Marlowe. “He did? Why?” Emily’s mind raced, wondering if Vince had offered to buy her out or threatened her again. Questions formed in her mind. How did Vince know where Marlowe was?
“He tried to kill me.”
“What?”
Emily could hear muffled crying on the other end of the line. “I was asleep. He asked me why I was in the hospital.”
“Wait, how did he know you were in the hospital?”
“I don’t know,” Marlowe snuffled. “We enabled the tracking on our phones so he could see when I was at the property or at the office. He said it made it easier for him to find me in case he needed papers signed. I didn’t think much of it at the time. Maybe that’s how,” she croaked.
Emily bit her lip. Location tracking for business partners? That didn’t make any sense. Maybe for a boyfriend or girlfriend, but not for a coworker. “Okay, walk me through it.”
A minute into the conversation, Emily realized Marlowe was too hysterical and unfocused to give her the information. Emily’s police training kicked in. “Here’s what I want you to do. Just take a bunch of deep breaths. I’m leaving my house right now. I’m coming to the hospital.”
Marlowe mumbled something practically unintelligible as Emily hung up the phone. Grabbing her coat, Emily glanced down at Miner, who began to whine. She looked at Mike. He blinked at her and nodded, “I’ll take care of him. Just go figure out what happened to Marlowe.”
On the drive to the hospital, Emily took her own advice and spent much of it taking deep breaths. It wasn’t that she was nervous. She needed to stay focused. From her training, she knew that emotion running wild could be contagious. People fed off each other’s feelings. She couldn’t afford to get caught up in whatever was going on in Marlowe’s head. Whatever it was, Emily realized, it wouldn’t be good. Marlowe had been through an awful lot in the last few weeks. The question was how much more could she tolerate before she broke?
As she drove, Emily thought about the issues Marlowe had faced. She lost her business, lost any means of supporting herself, lost her apartment, lost her reputation, had been raped, had lost the baby, and would never be able to have kids. Now it looked like the man who raped her had attacked again. Emily gritted her teeth. How was it possible no one else saw the threat from Vince? There had to be other women or business associates he’d taken advantage of. Emily pounded her fist on the steering wheel of her truck. The problem was, she and Mike had found no evidence that Vince had done anything to anyone else. It seemed all of Vince’s rage about his life had been focused on Marlowe. Why, Emily still wasn’t sure.
Emily’s mind flashed back to a case she’d worked on before she left the department. She absentmindedly rubbed her wrist, the memory of the cold steel handcuffs sending a chill up her spine. It was as if the feeling of being arrested never really left her. She swallowed hard, a wave of bile forcing its way up into her throat. The case she’d been on — one where a man who’d owned thirty-two hardware stores had been accused of murdering one of the cashiers -- had grown cold, the business owners high-priced attorneys getting it dismissed based on circumstantial evidence. The homicide detectives could never link him to the case.
That’s how it ended up on Emily’s desk.
Emily frowned, stopping at a red light, wondering why she remembered that particular case. As she slowed her breathing and relaxed, the initial shock of hearing Vince had shown up at the hospital and tried to kill Marlowe wearing off, Emily realized the case her memory brought up was one where the owner of the hardware stores seemed to have everything anyone could ever want — a successful business, a wife and three daughters, a lake house and an expensive membership to a golf club where he had plenty of friends. Emily remembered staying late one night at the department, pouring over the files. The image of the girl’s body came back to her. It had been cut up with a circular saw from the store where she worked, the medical examiner said, the pieces of her body thrown in a canvas bag used for construction debris.
As Emily pulled into the hospital, she wondered why she was thinking about the case so much. On the elevator up to Marlowe’s room, it occurred to her that the hardware store owner and Vince were nearly the same person. By the time Emily was done working the cold case of the cashier, she was convinced the man had worked all of his life’s rage out on one single person who wasn’t deserving of it. Marlowe was just like that cashier. Whatever Vince’s frustrations were in his life, whether his career hadn’t gone the way he wanted it to, or he was frustrated by his addiction to gambling, or he’d never found the right woman for his life, or for whatever reason, he was taking all of his frustrations out on Marlowe. It was just happening in stages, unlike what happened to the cashier which happened in one, long, sorry night.
A nurse was standing by Marlowe’s bed when Emily walked in. Spotting Emily, the nurse’s eyes went wide. “It’s okay, I called her,” Marlowe whispered.
