Kiki Lowenstein Books 1-3 & Cara Mia Delgatto Books 1-3: The Perfect Series for Crafters, Pet Lovers, and Readers Who Like Upbeat Books!
Page 139
I heard panting and realized the noise was coming from me. Zelda helped me to my feet. I leaned on her and walked over to the nurse’s station. She pulled an alcohol wipe from her pocket. My skin stung as she dabbed at my injuries. “Not very deep,” she said. “More messy than dangerous. Butterfly bandages should do it. Okay, I’ll wrap gauze around your throat. The bleeding has mainly stopped, but we need to get you downstairs to an ER examination room. You were so brave!”
“I didn’t have much of a choice. Be brave or be dead.”
Two more uniformed cops arrived to lock down the scene. One of them unrolled yellow crime scene tape. The other explained that he needed photos of me and of Poppy. We posed against a blank wall, facing front, turning to one side and then the other.
“I also need to take your statements,” the cop added, but Poppy waved him quiet.
“First we need to get my grandbaby all cleaned up.” He slipped an arm around me, which I appreciated. “You can take her statement later at her store. It’s just four blocks from here. Send a cop over. Give this girl a break.”
Someone appeared with a wheelchair, while a cop frog-marched my assailant toward the elevator bank. The creep’s nose still leaked a river of blood, and his face was swelling like a balloon.
“But my mermaid?” As the seat of the wheelchair touched the back of my knees, I slowly lowered myself into the sling seat. “How is she?”
“I’ll go see,” said Zelda.
“Poppy, I was so scared,” I said, fighting tears, as we held hands. The adrenaline ebbed from my system, leaving me with a bad case of the shakes.
“Of course you were. You had every right to be scared spitless.” He gripped my hand harder. “But you got the heart of a lion, Granddaughter. You did me proud. Any other girl woulda burst into tears and been useless, but you saved us. You used your head. You figured out how to signal to me, how to use that thick skull of yours as a battering ram. If you hadn’t of been so smart, this could have been curtains.”
“W-w-where did you learn to fight like that?”
“My uncle taught me.”
“You had an uncle?”
“Uncle Sam.”
34
Zelda walked toward us, pressing the palms of both hands over her mouth, as if she could contain any words that might burst free. Her tight curls swayed in response to her side to side motion. Her rolling gait reminded me of the Penguin in the Batman films. She didn’t move fast, so Poppy and I waited patiently for her, rather than punch the button on the elevator.
“So she’s fine, right?” I brushed away tears with the back of my hand.
“No,” Zelda said.
“No?” Poppy repeated as he tilted his head curiously.
“No. I’m sorry. She didn’t make it.”
“What?” I nearly fell out of the chair. “How?”
“He cut the tube to her oxygen tank. She was stressed and he made it worse, and I’m so, so sorry but it was too much for her. Her heart gave out.”
The words tumbled around in my head.
“Dead? She died? A heart attack? That doesn’t make sense.” I shook my head, but that didn’t clear it. The motion made me more confused than ever.
Zelda squatted, an awkward move for a bulky woman like her, but one that put us eye to eye. “When a person is drowning in salt water, the lungs become compromised. This patient developed ARDS, Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome. As a result, the tiny blood vessels in her lungs leaked fluid. The fluid competed with the lungs’ ability to transport oxygen. We hooked her up to oxygen, hoping to limit the damage, but her heart had to work very, very hard to move air around her body. Her body’s response to her trauma was a stressor. You gave her a second chance, but she was hanging on by a thread. When that guy cut her oxygen, she fought him. Until that moment, she’d been balancing on a tight wire. The struggle put too much stress on her. Her heart gave out.”
I choked out a sob.
Slowly rising, Zelda patted my shoulder. “That’s enough for now. We need to get you down to the ER. You’ve had a stressful day, too.”
She didn’t know the half of it. With a deft signal, she waved over a male orderly to push my wheelchair.
The elevator car dinged. Poppy hovered over me as the new orderly rolled me into the metal box. After the door thunked shut, the orderly thumbed his phone in a fury of text-messaging. I said to Poppy, “Two dead people in one day. This has to be some sort of a record. For me at least. How about you?”
Cutting me a sideways glance, he said, “Not nearly. But that don’t matter. How’s your butt and your back after that tumble you took?”
“I have a hunch I’ll be sore tomorrow.”
“You won’t feel it tomorrow,” Poppy said. “But wait until the day after. You usually get one day of grace. Got any Epsom salt at home? No? We’ll pick some up for you. Best cure for soreness God ever created. Tonight, you go home and soak in a tub of them crystals. It’ll draw the soreness right out of you.”
“How bad does my neck look?” I tried to see myself in the mirrored panels of the elevator car, but I couldn’t make out much.
“You’ll live.”
“Thanks. How are you?”
“Never better.” He clenched his right fist, released it, and clenched it again. “Well, pretty much. Mighta busted my pinky. Gotta admit, it’s been a long time since I punched anybody that hard.”
I tried to turn and talk to the orderly. “Someone needs to x-ray my grandfather’s hand.”
Poppy’s grunts suggested me that I worried too much. But I didn’t care. The orderly handed me over to a nurse who wheeled me into a curtained cubicle. With the nurse’s help, I changed out of my clothes and into a hospital gown. The nurse put on a blood pressure cuff and wrote notes in a file. I tuned her out. Once snuggled under the cotton blanket, I sent Skye a message and asked her to babysit my pets for a while. I had no idea how long my exam would take, or how long it would be for them to check Poppy out thoroughly. She messaged back: Anything wrong?
I was too overwhelmed to frame a proper response, so I typed: Poppy got into a bit of a tussle. He’s being checked out right now. No worries!
With my fur babies taken care of, the tension drained from my body. My head ached, and belatedly, I realized I’d hit it against the wall when I did my somersault.
“You in pain?” asked the nurse, a freckle-faced woman with frizzled strawberry blonde hair.
“Just a little headache.”
“Did you hit your noggin?”
“I might have.”
“We’ll need to get a picture of it. Be right back,” and she disappeared.
Alone in the cubicle, the full impact of my day rose up like a ghostly specter. Two women dead. Both were only barely known to me. One hadn’t seemed at risk. The other seemed to be on the mend. I closed my eyes and imagined a spool of thread. At first it ran freely. Then it wrapped around an index finger. Finally it snapped. Life was like that, deceptively delicate. Danielle and my mermaid had been moving along, seemingly without snags, until fate intervened, and then they were cut free.
How could this be happening? And why was I stuck in the middle of it?
The cubicle curtains jerked to one side.
“Cara? Are you all right?” Nathan Davidson grabbed my damp hand and squeezed it so hard I gasped. “Sorry. You okay? Your neck—”
He brushed the hair back from my throat and grumbled curse words. “He’ll live to regret this, I swear he will.”
“It’s all good. Poppy did a number on him.”
“So I heard. There’s plenty of fight in that old dog. They’re busy patching up your attacker.”
“Just so you know, I’m mad at you!” I withdrew my hand from his.
“I know you are,” he said with a rueful laugh. “Boy, remind me never to tick you off again. The waitress doubled-over laughing when I realized how you’d stuck me with that ginormous bill and all that food. I brought it back to the station. Packed the refriger
ator high with it.” But his face changed instantly, as he added, “I would have told you. I meant to tell you about Jodi, really I did. I kept thinking the timing wasn’t right, but I guess I was only postponing the inevitable. I never intended to mislead you.”
“But you did.”
“Cara, we weren’t at that stage in a relationship where we share our pasts, were we?”
He was right, but I didn’t feel much better about it.
The nurse reappeared at his elbow. “Captain Davidson? I need you to leave. We have to get this young lady’s wounds dressed and check her for a concussion. Dr. Pouncer is on his way.” Without waiting for Nathan’s answer, she pushed him out of the cubicle and into the hall. But rather than pull the curtain shut, she held it open so a large man of Filipino descent could enter.
“What have we here?” a booming voice wondered. “A damsel in distress? Hiya. I’m Ferdinand Pouncer. Bet you’re happy to see me, right? Thrilled to be in the ER? Aw, it’s okay. I’m used to being everyone’s least favorite doc. You might hate me now, but you’re going to love me later.”
His round face creased into a broad grin, as he leaned close to examine my throat. His thick fingers proved surprisingly tender and adept. He marched them over my neck as he gazed off into space.
“I think more clearly when my fingers are doing the looking for me,” he explained. When he finished, he smiled down at me and said, “Geez, lady, you need to quit playing around with knives. Another half inch to the right, and you wouldn’t need me.”
“I could go home, right?”
“Sure, if you live in the morgue.”
35
Nathan insisted on driving Poppy and me back to my store in his police cruiser. I took the back seat, so Poppy could sit up front next to Nathan. A uniformed officer followed with Poppy’s truck.
I wasn’t ready to let Nathan off the hook, even though his apology had gone a long way toward cooling my temper. The truth was that I just didn’t have the energy to stay mad at him. I was too physically and emotionally spent.
And it was only half past six.
Lou met us at the back door of The Treasure Chest. Skye peered anxiously over his shoulder. In her hands were two cups. One had valerian tea and two Advils for me. There was freshly brewed coffee for Poppy, who can drink caffeine at any time of day or night without losing any sleep. But Skye had rightly surmised that I needed to chill out. After thanking her, I swallowed the Advils and sipped my drink.
“Have MJ and Honora left for the day?”
“Yes, and MJ gave Sid a ride to Poppy’s house.” That was good news, because I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. Well, anyone but Skye. Her hug felt like a safe haven. I was so glad to have her in my life.
“Actually, Sid wanted to stop by his friend’s place to see if he could pick up his computer, but MJ put her foot down. She said, and I quote, ‘I am not a taxi service. A Good Samaritan, yes; an Uber driver, no.’ I think she was worried because the neighborhood is iffy. She likes to act as if she’s tougher than nails, but she isn’t.”
“Good thinking on her part,” I said. “That’s definitely a job for Poppy.”
Nathan rejoined us and stood directly over me. “I need to take your statement, Cara, while Lou takes a statement from Dick.”
“Other way around, Captain Davidson. You can talk to Poppy; Lou can interview me.”
“Come on, Cara,” said Nathan. “You’ve got to let this whole thing with your sister drop. I said I was sorry. You’re making a mountain out of a molehill.”
“I can’t deal with this right now.” My voice broke. Skye pulled me closer and patted my back so I wouldn’t have to look at Nathan.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I need to be able to do my job. If you don’t care about your own safety, consider the welfare of your friends and co-workers.”
“Let her talk to Lou.” Skye sounded fierce.
“All right, all right. Be that way,” Nathan said.
Over Skye’s shoulder I watched as Lou nodded, but he didn’t look happy. I was putting him in a tough spot between his boss and his girlfriend. But for once I needed to take care of myself.
“Upstairs,” said Lou. I followed on jittery legs. Halfway up, he turned and grabbed my hand. It wasn’t like him to be physical with anyone. He rarely acted affectionate with Skye in public. So I knew he’d fought a battle within himself before deciding he should help me.
I leaned against him hard. My muscles grew stiffer with every passing minute. Oh, how I longed to take a nice hot bath! But I couldn’t. For the next half an hour, while sitting on a chair in my old apartment, I relived the nightmare visit that Poppy and I had made to the hospital. Lou interrupted me only to ask clarifying questions.
When we were finished, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Done with your questions? My turn.”
Lou’s not a handsome man, but his face is incredibly likeable, especially when he’s not angry. “Aw, Cara, that’s not how it works.”
“That’s exactly how it works today, Lou. Who was that guy who cut my throat? I have the right to know. I live alone, remember? I might be in danger.”
Lou’s hands are the size of catcher mitts. Resting in his lap, palms up, they seemed to cup a world of possibilities. Or not.
“I need answers, or I’ll never be able to sleep at night.” My voice cracked at the end. “You can’t do this to me, Lou. I’ve been through too much.”
“Answers? I wish I had them.” Scrubbing at his short haircut, Lou avoided my gaze. Finally, he hunched over so we were nearly touching foreheads. “Cara, we don’t know anything about your creep. Not yet. We have to run his fingerprints through the system. You know the way this works.”
“Yeah, I guess I do. So you can’t tell me why he cut my mermaid’s oxygen supply? What was his reason for wanting to see that poor woman dead?”
“I can hazard a guess. See, a bunch of people went overboard that day. Most of them swam away or drowned. The guy piloting the boat didn’t want to be identified. Nor did the guy waiting to pick up the shipment in his truck. Your mermaid represented a problem, and she probably didn’t have much value to the coyote. Both the women who washed up were in their fifties. Probably not much use in the sex trade market. Possibly destined to be household slaves.”
“What? Household slaves? But you can’t have slaves here.”
“Not legally. But the numbers of illegals coerced into forced labor is astonishing. It’s a crime that most people never realize is happening, because the slave has no way of asking for help.”
“Back up. You keep using the term slave. Do you mean like a sex slave?”
“Not always. See, there’s sex trafficking and labor trafficking. Florida has the third highest rate of labor trafficking. We’re almost tied with Texas. California takes the top spot. Labor trafficking is defined as coercing, forcing, or tricking someone into working for you.”
I found it difficult to grasp what Lou was saying. His suggestions sounded outlandish to me. After all, I’d been taught in school that slavery ended when Abraham Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation. But here Lou was, looking totally serious, telling me that modern day slavery actually did exist, and my new home state was a top offender. “Wait a minute. That doesn’t make sense, Lou. If you’re working for someone and you don’t like it, why not quit? Why not tell the authorities? Or ask for help?”
“Many of these household slaves come from countries where they’ve been taught to fear people in authority, particularly the police. They won’t come to us because they don’t trust us. Another problem is that they fear for the safety of their families back home. Of course, there are also language barriers. Some are held in isolation. If they aren’t in a big city with public transportation, they have no idea how to run away, where to go for help, or how to get to a place where they can ask for help. And then, there are those who blame themselves. Maybe the whole family pitched in to pay for them to have the chance to start over, and here they are, in th
e land of milk and honey, only it’s a prison sentence. They don’t know how to get out of a bad situation, and they’re too embarrassed to admit what’s happened.”
“Wow,” I said softly. “I never realized.”
“It’s a big, big business. Whatever happened, these creeps couldn’t allow your mermaid to be interviewed by the authorities. Killing her was a matter of tidying up loose ends.”
“Just my luck to stumble onto two murder scenes in one day.”
Lou shook his head. “That’s one way to look at it. Another is that you’re still alive.”
36
When Lou and I finished, we came downstairs to find Nathan sitting on one of my kitchen chairs. He frowned at his phone while he used his thumbs to write text messages. The ping of incoming messages suggested this was a conversation. One ping in particular caused him to do a double-take. With a fierce grunt, he stood up, walked into my office, and shut the door. Normally I would have stopped anyone who presumed to take over my desk, but on this particular evening, I didn’t have the energy to set boundaries.
Poppy and I took seats at the table, staring at the walls with all the energy of a pair of zombies. Skye put out place settings and warmed up Honora’s Tex Mex Spaghetti Squash leftovers.
The wonderful smell of the spices perked up my appetite, but eating seemed like a chore. One I wanted to avoid. “I’m not that hungry. I think I’ll grab Jack and go home.”
“No you won’t. You aren’t going anywhere,” said Nathan, as he walked out of my office. “Not until we get things under control.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to say, “You’re not the boss of me,” but I decided against it.
“First of all, what did the ER doc say to you, Cara? Did he or she clear you to be alone?”
“I’m fine.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I reddened. “I’m supposed to have someone keep an eye on me.”
“How do you intend to do that if you’re at your house by yourself? Second, we don’t know if your assailant was alone. We have to comb through the surveillance videos from inside the hospital and from the parking lot. And third, you seem to be on a roll. This is the second time you’ve been in close proximity to a woman who died in less than eight hours. I’m not sure how this is related, or even if it is, but I’m worried about your safety.”