Sparkle

by Rudy Yuly

  A tall, middle-aged redhead in a frumpy dark suit stuck her head in the door. She looked serious—almost to the point of sadness. “Mark Bender?”

  Mark frowned. “Yes?”

  “I’m Detective Bjorgeson from the Seattle Police Department.”

  Mark’s heart stopped. Nobody knew about him and Jolie. He took a deep quiet breath. Be cool.

  “Hi, Detective. What can I do for you?”

  “You’re Jolie Walker’s supervisor, is that right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I was wondering if you’d mind my asking you a few questions.”

  “What would you like to know? Would you like to sit down?”

  “I don’t plan to get too comfortable,” Pinky said flatly.

  Mark’s heart thumped so hard he was afraid the Detective might hear. “Oh, right.”

  “I know this has probably been tough on you…on all of you here.” Her words were softer now, but her tone and face were as hard as ever.

  “Yeah, everybody here really liked Jolie. We had a birthday…” He paused, apparently choked up. “We had…it was her birthday on Monday.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Look, I know this is difficult for you, and I appreciate your time. What I want to know is if you noticed anything unusual with Ms. Walker lately, anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Well, no. I can’t really think of anything in particular.”

  “This wasn’t a robbery. It doesn’t look like anything was taken from her residence. She wasn’t sexually assaulted. We do think somebody broke into her house. Did she have a boyfriend or anything like that?”

  “I, uh, didn’t know too much about her personal life. I don’t know of any boyfriend or anything.”

  Pinky hesitated. She knew what to ask next, but she wanted to put the question just right. Louis had filled her in on the zoo connection to Eddie and she’d nearly fallen down. But while Louis was upset about it, Bjorgeson was practically obsessed. Louis had sent Pinky because he didn’t have the stomach to ask anything that might implicate Eddie. Pinky felt differently. When it came to murder—or in this case attempted murder—he was willing to do whatever it took to nail someone for it. And despite her fondness for Eddie over the years, he looked like just the guy. Disabled or not, it was starting to come extremely clear that Eddie could be dangerous. And if he was any kind of threat at all, Bjorgeson would deal with him without batting an eye, regardless of how Louis might feel about it. But she didn’t have to ask the question. Mark saved him the trouble.

  “You know, there is one thing. It’s maybe kind of dumb. But there was this guy I was a little worried about. But he wasn’t a boyfriend or anything like that. He wasn’t really even a friend of Jolie’s.”

  “Yeah? Who?” Pinky said, making her face a mask.

  “Well, he was this guy, this developmentally disabled guy Jolie was being paid by the State to take around the zoo once a week. I was concerned because the guy was really strange. I accidentally touched him one time, and I honestly thought he was going to attack me. I was trying to help Jolie work with the State to find someone else to take him around, actually. I thought it would be safer if he went with a male guide. And I think Jolie was really starting to get a little scared of the guy. I have nothing against people with disabilities, but he just seemed to me like…” Mark trailed off.

  “Like what?”

  “Well, I probably shouldn’t say this, but I felt like he had the potential for violence. I never felt comfortable when Jolie was alone with him, frankly.”

  “Do you remember his name?”

  “Eddie something. In fact, I think he worked with the police. He cleaned up after crimes and stuff. Maybe you even know him. I’m sure we have a file with his contact information. I could pull it for you.”

  Bjorgeson nodded her head and suppressed a tight grin. Louis wouldn’t be happy with this development. Tough shit. Pinky was starting to see Eddie in a whole new light. She’d have no problem at all bringing him down. “Why don’t you fax it over to my office,” she said, drily. “We’ll follow up on it. Thanks for your time.”

  Bjorgeson dropped a card on Mark’s desk. She didn’t offer Mark her hand, just turned and walked out.

  Mark was careful not to smile until the Detective had left his office and the door had closed behind her.

  Eddie had broken into Jolie’s house. Of course! And the detective had as much as told him that the cops had associated the break-in with Jolie’s shooting. Surely Eddie had left some evidence. It was almost too good to be true. Justice did exist in the world, after all.

  Only one problem. A huge one.

  Jolie might still wake up.

  Another knock on his door. “Sorry to bug you, Mark, but there’s some good news. We just called the hospital, and Jolie’s been upgraded to serious condition. They might even move her out of intensive care in a day or two.”

  “Oh, wow,” Mark said. “That’s great. Is she…she isn’t conscious, is she?”

  “No, she’s still in a coma. They said there’s really no way to tell when she might come out of it. She might never come out of it, I guess.”

  “Oh, man.” Mark shook his head. That’s bad. This whole thing is a nightmare.”

  “I know, it’s horrible. But she’s probably going to survive, at least. Maybe…maybe she’ll get better.”

  “I’m not usually religious,” Mark said, “but I’m praying.”

  His head was pounding. He had to pray if he was going to escape the consequences. But not for Jolie’s recovery. If she came out of the coma, she could tell her version of the story.

  If there was any chance that could happen, Mark realized, his only hope was to make sure he was Jolie’s first—and last—visitor.

  It was a horrible thought. But horrible things had already happened.

  Chapter 50

  When the EMTs finally decided it was time to take Eddie to Harborview, Joe insisted that he was okay too, even though he still felt shaky. Louis had explained to him that Jolie was still alive, and that her prognosis, while fairly grim, was improving.

  “I’ve gotta go, Joe. I’m sorry. You gonna be okay?”

  “Yeah,” Joe lied.

  “I wish I could come with you to the hospital.”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll check up on you guys in the morning.” Louis put his hand on Joe’s shoulder. “I want to help you, Joe.”

  Joe couldn’t answer.

  After Louis was gone, Joe got up and walked to the curb. He was dizzy and tired. His arms hurt, and his headache was monumental. Police cars were parked on either side of the van, boxing it in completely.

  An officer was standing at the curb with a clipboard and tape recorder, taking a statement from the agitated landlord, who was looking ten times more distraught than he had in the morning. They both wanted to talk to Joe.

  Joe walked past them and into the house. Surprisingly, no one tried to stop him. He loaded up the cleaning equipment, which hadn’t been used at all. Then he picked up Eddie’s precious Mariners bag, which was sitting in the middle of the floor, and walked back outside. He went to the van, opened it, and tossed Eddie’s bag on the passenger seat. He noticed that the flowers he’d bought for LaVonne were still there, squashed on the floor, brown and hideously shrunken.

  Joe went back and told the officer everything, as quickly as possible. He’d already told Louis, but he told it all again and didn’t hold anything back. He took full responsibility. If he’d thought he could get away with lying, he would have happily claimed that he’d trashed the place himself— but it was hopeless.

  While Joe was talking, the EMTs wheeled Eddie to the ambulance and took off for the hospital. All Joe wanted to do was to go after him and see if he was going to be okay.

  After what seemed like forever, the officer scribbled some final notes and turned off his recorder. “I’ve got your statements,” he said. “We’re not going to make an arrest today because of Mr. Jones’ condition.
But if you want to file charges, you’ll have plenty of time to do so.” He looked at the landlord. “As far as financial damages, that’s a civil matter. Your insurance companies will have to work that out.”

  “Fine,” Joe said. “That’s great.” His insurance would surely be cancelled after this payout. It was one more incentive to get out of the business. Yeah, right. There was no way out. This escapade was going to cost them, big time. They’d be working for Jolie’s landlord for years. Even worse, Eddie could go to jail. Joe wouldn’t be able to handle Eddie in a place like that. “Can I go?” he said. ”I need to be with my brother.”

  “We’re done,” the officer said.

  “I’ve got some business with you, young man,” the landlord said.

  “You know what?” Joe said. “Don’t worry about it. No charge.”

  He walked to the van, leaving the landlord staring after him. He climbed in wearily and cranked it. The van didn’t want to start.

  “Oh, come on!” Joe’s voice sounded far away, as if some other idiot was talking and screwing everything up, and he was just watching. He cranked the van again, and it finally turned over.

  He revved the motor, then noticed how tightly he was wedged in between the police cars—and how badly he wanted a cigarette.

  He managed to get one lit and, in an uncharacteristic move, pulled on his shoulder harness. Maybe it was the realization that cops surrounded him, or the thought that Eddie would want him to, or LaVonne’s voice in his head, or maybe a premonition; but the few seconds it took, fumbling with shaky hands, made Joe even more frantic to get to the hospital. He craned his head backward to check out the car behind. Thank goodness, the guy was taking pity on him. The cop waved at Joe, started his engine, and backed up to give him a bit of room.

  “Thank you,” Joe mouthed, still looking back.

  He threw the van into gear blindly and pushed down on the gas. The van shot forward instead of back.

  Joe slammed into the car in front. The side of his head banged into the doorjamb. He heard a distant tapping, and turned to see one of the cops knocking on his window. He rolled it down, dully.

  “You alive?” the cop said.

  Joe wished he wasn’t. “Yeah.” He held his pounding head with both hands to keep it from flying off.

  “It’s not your day.” The cop pulled the door open.

  “No,” Joe said. The cop helped him stumble out. Joe’s head and neck hurt like hell. His hands felt wet. It was blood.

  The cops insisted on calling another ambulance. Just as they settled Joe inside, his phone rang. Maybe it was work. They were going to need all they could get to dig themselves out of this hole.

  “Sparkle Cleaners.” It hurt to talk.

  “Hey, Joe.” LaVonne sounded cheerful. “Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “I got tomorrow night off. I thought maybe I’d come over, bring a movie—something relaxing. Something ordinary. Maybe even boring.”

  The ambulance turned on its siren.

  “That sounds awfully close, Joe. Is everything okay?”

  An hour and a half later, Joe was sitting on the edge of an examination table as a busy, distracted emergency room doctor finished stitching up his head. Joe hadn’t seen Eddie, but he had managed to get a nurse to check on him and report that he was still unconscious. Stable condition. No sign of internal hemorrhage. That was all.

  The doctor examined the five stitches he had placed inside the little shaved spot on Joe’s head, untied the bib around Joe’s neck, and handed it to the nurse. He shone a light in Joe’s right eye.

  ”Am I going to make it?”

  The doctor moved the light to Joe’s left eye. “I’d say probably, considering. How do you feel?”

  “Like an ass.”

  “That’s good. Don’t have a cure for it, though. I could give you a sedative.”

  “No, thanks. I just want to see my brother.”

  LaVonne poked her head into the exam room. “Hi, Joe.”

  “Hi. I’m sure glad to see you.”

  “I guess we’re done, then,” the doctor said. “How’s the neck?”

  “Not too bad,” Joe said, “unless I move it.” He was holding the neck brace the doctor had given him.

  “Put that on,” the doctor said. Joe obeyed. “It might get worse in the next couple of days. If it does, call me, and I’ll get you a prescription for some muscle relaxants.”

  Joe slid cautiously off the table and walked out into the hall. LaVonne hugged him, and this time he hugged back. In fact, he didn’t want to let go.

  “Thank you,” he said finally. “I was going to call when I didn’t need something—”

  “I called you, Joe.”

  “Yeah. Right in time to save my butt once again.”

  “I’ll send you a bill later.”

  “Get in line.”

  “Alright,” Even though she was only trying to cheer Joe up, LaVonne could see the joke hit a nerve. She changed her tone. “I stopped by Eddie’s room.”

  “You did? How is he?”

  “He looks relatively okay. He seemed restless, not peaceful, like when he was sleeping the other day. He’s still out, though.”

  “Did the doctor tell you anything?”

  “Are you kidding?” LaVonne shook her head ruefully.

  They walked down the busy hallway to the elevator. “I called a tow truck for your van,” she said. “They’re going to leave it in front of your house.”

  “You’re a life saver,” Joe said ruefully. He wondered how badly it was screwed up. One more bill to worry about.

  “Yeah. Listen, Joe. I went to meet the tow truck.”

  “Thanks,” Joe said.

  “You didn’t lock the van.”

  “Yeah?” Joe said cautiously, wondering what he’d messed up now.

  “Well…I found the flowers. And the letter you wrote. I wouldn’t have read it, but it started out, ‘Dear LaVonne.’ You don’t know anyone else named LaVonne, do you?”

  “Oh, God,” Joe moaned, holding his head. “I mean, no, of course not. I wasn’t going to—”

  “Those flowers were pretty shot, Joe. Did you buy them after you kicked me out that night?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So why didn’t you give them to me?”

  “They…weren’t good enough for you.”

  LaVonne looked at him. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  “Uh-huh,” Joe said. “Okay.”

  When they separated, LaVonne said, “I’m going to tell you something, Joe. You’re strong enough for this. I know you’re struggling, but you can do it. And if you keep trying, I’ll keep standing by you. But you do need to stand.”

  “Okay.” Joe reached out and took her hand in his as they walked into Eddie’s room.

  The room was a double, and the other patient was out cold too, either sleeping or comatose like Eddie. Joe walked over and put his hand on Eddie’s forehead.

  “He told me he wanted this to be our last blood-and-guts job. I never would’ve taken him there if I’d known it was Jolie’s place. How would he have known that?”

  “Maybe he saw a picture of her or something in the house. How come you didn’t know whose house it was?”

  “Because I didn’t want to,” Joe said. “I never want to know.”

  Chapter 51

  Eddie was flying through a whirl of chaotic images. Every job he’d ever done—everything he’d ever done—streaked and burst like shrapnel through his head.

  The images passed by so quickly that he wanted to grab on to one of them, hold on and make sense of it. But his mother’s voice kept pleading with him to let go, let go. Maybe it wasn’t about getting anything back. Maybe it was about letting it all go. Helping it go.

  With that thought came a flash of his mother’s face. She smiled, loving and impossibly weary, and then faded away.

  Eddie’s heart grew enormously, as though it were going to explode, and then he was a little boy again, i
n the basement of his parents’ house. The Shiny Gold commercial blared behind him, barely recognizable. The light was pale, the colors washed out, and everything bobbled like Jell-O. Eddie pressed his face against the cool door. He knew the shots were coming.

  Although they were as loud and horrifying as ever and echoed on and on, this time he didn’t jump back when they came.

  LaVonne admired Eddie’s face as she and Joe stood by his bed. He looked young and fresh. There was something almost pretty about him.

  But his right eye was badly bruised, his head was heavily bandaged, and tiny beads of sweat were forming on his upper lip and brow. His eyes darted back and forth beneath the lids, as if he was watching a movie in his head.

  Joe and Eddie did have a family resemblance after all, LaVonne realized. They had the same full lips, strong chins, and long eyelashes. But Eddie was darker and much softer looking, while Joe’s face was lined with stress—especially between his eyes—and marked by his old deep scar.

  LaVonne had cut Joe more slack in one week than she ever had anyone. She felt passion for him, it was true. But even more than that, she felt friendship, concern, and hope. Even now, after all that had happened— way too fast—she didn’t want to run away. It was amazing. And Eddie was definitely a part of it.

  Nothing about Joe and Eddie was ordinary. Whatever crazy stuff was going on with these two, it was drawing her in deeper all the time.

  Eddie’s eyelids fluttered. Joe grabbed a tissue and dabbed his brother’s brow.

  “You’ve got to get better,” he said earnestly, hoping Eddie could hear him. “This place sucks.”

  All of a sudden Joe flashed on what jail would be like, and his throat tightened. Maybe that wouldn’t happen. Maybe they’d only be faced with bankruptcy. He sat down again.

  He wished he were in bed with LaVonne, sleeping, dreaming up this whole mess. He’d wake up and it would all be gone.

  Except for LaVonne.

  “Can I ask you something? Something kind of important?” she said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

  “Sure, why not?” At this point, he literally had nothing to lose.

  LaVonne put her hand on his. Even though it was resting on his thigh, she felt it shaking slightly. “You wrote about it a little bit, but not enough for me to really understand.” She hesitated. “What happened to you guys? I mean, when you were little?”