Death With Dignity

by E B Corbin

  “No, I’m not a complete gimp. I’ll make it.” He turned to Sam. “Wait for me to get to the door before you get out.”

  She nodded. She had the distinct impression that Henry and White Cloud were communicating on a different level. About something Henry didn’t want her to know. She debated confronting him, then thought better of it. Now was not the time. But Henry was hiding something from her; the same way she was hiding her true mission from Detective Munroe. She didn’t like it at all.

  And White Cloud knew something about Henry’s secret. Why would he trust the Native American and not her? She determined not to be left in the dark but before she could say a word, Henry threw his door open.

  He took a deep breath before he tried to pull himself from the rear of the taxi. When he managed to balance himself, he slammed the door and did his best to ignore the pain shooting up his leg as he hobbled to the entrance. The buzzing grew louder, competing with the ache in his ankle, but he reached the glass door and pushed in the code to unlock it before he turned around to signal to Sam.

  Without turning his head, he kept an eye on the Charger as it pulled out of the parking space and began to ease down the street. He held the door open for Sam, who slipped out of the taxi and darted to the lobby.

  The buzzing remained steady but didn’t turn into a whine. Still he wanted to be out of sight before the Dodge reached their front door. He hustled Sam along despite the ache in his ankle.

  He hoped those two didn’t know the code to enter the building

  TWENTY-Two

  An elevator stood empty and waiting, its doors open to the lobby. They scrambled inside and pushed the button for eight. Sam pushed additional buttons from nine to twelve, as a precaution. The longer it took the elevator to reach the lobby, the more time they had to get to their apartment and lock the door.

  Once inside, Henry made sure the chain was fastened and the bolt slid into place. “We need to find another place to live. It doesn’t do us any good to lose those bozos if they continue to show up at the front of our building.”

  “You’re right. This place has been a hassle since we first arrived.” Sam went to her bedroom to retrieve her laptop from under the mattress.

  “And it wasn’t very reassuring to find a strange man in the apartment this afternoon.”

  “What’s the deal with that?” Sam plopped onto a bar stool and opened her laptop on the counter.

  “He claimed he wanted to look around to see how much work needed to be done. But he could have been casing the joint. He might be the source of all the thefts around here. Lucky I wasn’t gone too long.”

  “We need to get out of here tomorrow. Jason, aka Stay Andrew, will just have to refund our remaining days. In the meantime, I think we should find a large hotel. One with a lot of rooms. It will be harder to find us with a couple hundred rooms to choose from.” Sam booted the computer to start her search. “I think I’ll register under a different name.”

  “Elizabeth Peters again?”

  “No, I’ll use a different name.”

  “You have more than one alias?”

  “I have five altogether. When I had access to a master forger, I didn’t see any reason to go with just one.”

  “And the DSS was okay with that?”

  “They didn’t know. I paid for the extras myself. I could be Stephanie Plum, Eve Dallas, Kinsey Millhone, or Marcia Brady.”

  Henry snorted a laugh. “Don’t you think one of the Brady Bunch checking into a hotel will be a little obvious?”

  “Surely there’s someone other than a TV character named Marcia Brady. It’s a common name. And I’ll bet they hate jokes about the television show. Besides it just popped into my head out of nowhere and I went with it.”

  Henry shuffled to the sofa and pulled his aching foot onto the coffee table. “I’d use one of the other names if I were you.”

  “Fine. I’ll be Stephanie Plum. I don’t think some young desk clerk will recognize that name. At least I hope not.”

  “Why should anyone recognize that name?”

  “Because she’s a fictional character. All my aliases are fictional characters.”

  “Aw, geez. Why’d you do that?” Henry asked.

  “’Cause I had to come up with four names at the spur of the moment and I wanted to be able to remember them.”

  “You said you had five aliases.”

  “The DSS picked Elizabeth Peters. I had no choice on that one.”

  “Are all the others television characters? Won’t that be pretty obvious?”

  “No. The other three are from books.” Sam shrugged. “They might all be New York Times best sellers, but . . .”

  “I never heard of them,” Henry said.

  “That’s because you’re a man. You probably only read science fiction and cowboy stories, if you read at all.”

  Henry readjusted his foot. “I prefer historical nonfiction.”

  “There you go.” Sam raised her hands and slapped her legs. “You won’t know these names because they all belong to female sleuths of one sort or another.”

  “If they were best sellers, someone will recognize the name.”

  “And I’ll just play like I’m annoyed that the author stole my name. It’s no big deal.” Sam swung around to begin her search for a hotel.

  She found the Hotel Monaco had a suite available—two bedrooms, living room, sitting area, coffee maker and twenty-four-hour room service. Just what they needed. She made a reservation for two weeks, thinking they should be able to finish up their work in the Portland area in that time.

  The cost was way more than she wanted to pay, but it was a five-star hotel and after the living conditions they’d endured at the apartment, she felt the price was justified.

  “I got us a suite at the Hotel Monaco,” she told Henry. “It has 221 rooms on 10 floors.

  Engrossed on his own computer with finding the website for the pizza place Julie had told him about, he didn’t look up but said, “Sounds good. I’d be happy with a Holiday Inn Express. Anything to get away from here. What do you want on your pizza?”

  She told him and went back to booking their room, wondering if she should have tried for a cheaper place. The hell with it, she decided to put worries about spending the funds out of her mind. If Jules somehow found the accounts she was hiding, she might as well spend as much as seemed reasonable and let her father foot the bill. We have the funds, might as well splurge for a change, she thought.

  Henry placed the order for a large pizza and closed his laptop. “When can we check in to our new place?”

  “The site says 3:00 p.m., but I requested an early check-in. The earliest we can get is 1:00 p.m. That will give us time to search the Bledsoe home in the morning.”

  “It’s a long shot,” Henry said. “If I were going to leave a suicide note, I’d leave it somewhere close to where they’d find my body. You can’t be sure anyone will find it otherwise.”

  “Do you have any other ideas on how to prove Norman’s innocence?”

  “Nothing that makes sense.”

  “Me neither.” Sam slipped off the barstool and closed her laptop. “I’m going to start packing while we wait for the pizza. I can help you do the same after I’m done with mine.”

  “No need. I just have to grab my duffel. Everything but this computer is in there.”

  “You’ve been living out of your duffel?”

  “Sure, why not? Makes things easier.”

  Sam shook her head and went into her bedroom to repack her clothes. She couldn’t understand how Henry could find anything in that duffel. And why weren’t his clothes all wrinkled? Since they’d arrived, he always looked impressive. Maybe it was something he learned in the Navy.

  Forty-five minutes later, she had completed filling her suitcase when the buzzer sounded signifying someone needed to get into the lobby. She pushed the button and a voice called out, “Pizza delivery!”

  Since they were expecting it, neither thought to
check the peephole when a knock came at their door. Sam no sooner finished with the locks when the door flew open. The Incredible Hulk stood in the hall, a long-barrel .44 in one hand, a pizza box in the other.

  Sam instinctively swiped up at the pizza box, catching the man in the nose. She attempted to shut the door, but the Hulk dropped the pizza and stuck his foot in the door. Her effort was no match for his strength and before Henry could hobble over, the man pushed his way in.

  “Stay where you are!” The gun swung in Henry’s direction and the man fired a shot at his feet.

  Henry stopped dead in the middle of the room, leaning on the cane for support. His ears rang from the sound of the gun, causing him to shout. “What do you want with us?”

  “Just this pretty little lady here. She’s coming with me. You’ll stay here if you know what’s good for you.” The Hulk’s voice sounded muffled as he grabbed Sam’s elbow and began to lead her into the hall.

  Sam broke free and tried to knee him in the groin but he moved enough so that she only connected with his outer thigh. He slapped her hard enough for her head to snap and her vision to dim.

  Henry used the distraction to take a few steps closer to the kitchen, where he’d dropped the Beretta when they came in. But the Hulk noticed the move and fired another shot, which grazed Henry’s arm. He stopped and held up his hands in surrender. His upper arm stung like hell but he refused to react to it.

  Sam punched at the man’s chest, but he caught both her hands in one of his and jerked her out of the apartment. She tried kicking the man in the shins to no avail. It only made him angrier and he cracked her in the head with his heavy weapon. She stopped struggling, her vision dimmed and she lost focus before everything went black.

  As soon as they left the apartment, Henry grabbed his phone and dialed 911 to report the kidnapping. The operator asked so many questions, he hung up in frustration and called White Cloud. “Where are you?”

  “I am across the street from your building. I watched a big man from the Dodge Charger pay a pizza delivery boy and take a pizza box. Then he entered your building. You need to be careful.”

  “Too late. He got Sam and he shot me.”

  “You need assistance? I will be right there.”

  “No, it’s just a flesh wound. I need you to keep an eye on that car.”

  “You wish for me to stop them?”

  “No, no. They have a gun.”

  “I have a tomahawk.”

  “I want you to follow them if they pull away before I can get down there. I need to know where they’re taking her.”

  “No problem. I can do that but I’d be happy to stop them. It will be like cowboys and Indians.”

  Henry plucked a bunch of paper towels from the counter and pressed them against his upper arm as he tried to balance the phone with his shoulder. “Just keep them in sight. Try not to let them see you and call me when they stop. Do not try to approach them. They’d shoot you as soon as look at you.”

  “I know how to be careful. I see the big one coming out now. He’s carrying Sam. She’s either dead or unconscious.”

  “She’s not dead,” Henry said. “They need her alive. Just don’t lose them!”

  “I will not. They’re pulling out. Gotta go!”

  Henry pulled the phone from his ear. “Dammit!”

  The bleeding slowed on his bicep, but it stung like hell. He pulled several paper towels from the roll and wrapped them around his arm before he snatched his gun and struggled into his coat. He’d wait in the lobby to hear from White Cloud, then get an Uber to take him to their location. Hoping the Native American didn’t lose them or try to confront them on his own, Henry hobbled to the hall to wait for the elevator.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Sam heard voices through the throbbing in her head. She opened her eyes to find herself sprawled in the rear seat of a vehicle, but she didn’t move a muscle and quickly clamped her eyes shut. Her head felt as if it were ready to explode, the pain so great she could barely concentrate. She slowed her breathing and tried to hear the conversation from the front of the car.

  “You should’ve tied her up,” the driver said.

  “She’ll be out for a while. I can handle her,” the Hulk grumbled. “Just drive. The sooner we get to the house, the sooner I can contact that guy back East.”

  “What’s he want with her anyway?”

  “She stole some money of his and he wants to know what she did with it.”

  “What if she won’t tell us?”

  “She’ll talk. No one wants to have their fingers and toes chopped off.”

  Sam’s heart did a flip. She had to get out of the car, but they were traveling at a high rate of speed. Sooner or later they’d have to come to a stop sign or red light. She wanted to be ready to bolt. She slowly moved her head to check the location of the door handle, but the throbbing pain took her breath away. She swallowed a groan and twisted enough to see the door.

  Two door handles came into view. Two locks and two windows, one overlapping the other. She squeezed her eyes closed and opened them again. Still two of everything and she had no idea which was the real one. The panic came with a jolt. She began taking deep, steady breaths to calm her fear. Hysteria would do no good.

  The driver’s voice came through her haze. “Whadda we do with her after we get the info?”

  “Get rid of her.”

  “Ya think we can have some fun with her before we do that?” The driver sounded a bit too anxious to Sam’s ear.

  She had to get out of the car. Despite the pain, she turned once more to check on the door. Still two handles, no better than the last time. As much as the desire to bolt took over, she forced herself to remain still and wait.

  The car finally slowed and it felt as if they were moving in a circle. Sam figured they had been on an Interstate and were now taking an exit. If they stopped at the end, she’s have a chance.

  But the vehicle only slowed and turned left, picking up speed again. They went a short distance before they made another turn and pulled to a stop. The Darth Vader theme from Star Wars sounded in the front seat and the Hulk fumbled in his pocket for his phone.

  “It’s the guy who thinks he’s our boss,” the Hulk said. “I should answer it. You get the bitch into the house.”

  Both car doors opened and shut, then Sam felt the rear door by her feet open. Two hands grabbed her ankles and pulled. She remained as loose as possible even though she thought her head would explode.

  The driver was mumbling to himself as he tugged at Sam. “Jesus! For such a skinny chick, she sure weighs a lot.”

  When her legs hit the ground, he grabbed her shoulders to prop her up but she remained loose, sliding to the ground and letting her head loll. The driver dragged her a few feet, keeping a grip by her armpits. He propped her against something hard and scratchy, but she let herself begin to teeter to the side.

  “Aw, hell with it,” the driver murmured and let her slide to the ground.

  Through slits in her eyes, she watched the man walk back to the car to turn off the engine. The Hulk was pacing toward the front door, talking on his phone, paying no attention to his cohort’s dilemma.

  As the skinny guy slipped into the driver’s seat, Sam pushed up and stumbled away as quietly as she could, fighting off a touch of vertigo. She had to find a place to hide and she had about half a second to do it before one of her kidnappers spotted her moving down the driveway.

  They were parked in front of a rundown ranch house in a neighborhood of similar homes. Some of the places had three or four cars, one or two in the driveway, the others sitting on what passed for a front yard. A few had giant sequoias in the front or shooting to the sky in the back.

  If not for the six-foot-high untrimmed boxwood hedges lining one side of the driveway they were in, she would be in trouble. She slipped into the neighboring yard but stayed close enough to the hedge that she felt the hard stems stabbing at her, snagging her sweater.

  The Hulk
had snatched her without her jacket. She’d been okay in the car, but now the damp chill crept through her even as she stumbled away from her captors. A minor worry as far as she was concerned. The bigger issue was where she could hide on this godforsaken street.

  No streetlights illuminated the road so she had to squint to see where she was going. Since she still saw two of everything, and those began to spin slowly as vertigo overtook her again, she had a difficult time navigating. But she continued to stagger closer to the road.

  Then she heard a yell.

  “Hey! Where’d she go?”

  It was all the impetus she needed. She took off running, ignoring the way she weaved back and forth. She swung her head around to see if the driver had spotted her, but kept moving forward as fast as she could manage with a pounding head and shaky legs while the ground spun underneath her feet.

  With her head twisted looking behind, she ran smack into a soft mountain.

  She cried out when two strong arms encircled her and held her in place.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Henry leaned on his cane in the lobby, impatiently waiting for White Cloud’s call. A young couple entered the building, laughing and talking, engrossed in each other. The man glanced at him and pulled his companion closer to his side. Henry smiled at them and pointed to his cane to show he was harmless. “Waiting for a friend.”

  The couple returned the smile but kept enough of a distance between them, that Henry got the message. Even with a boot on his foot and a cane, he supposed he looked formidable. That was fine with him. The couple hurried to the elevator without looking back.

  When an older couple entered a few minutes later, they focused straight ahead on the elevator, pointedly ignoring him. He noticed the woman clutched at the man’s arm as if she feared Henry would drag her away. He tried a smile but they kept their eyes averted and hustled past him.

  Thinking maybe he shouldn’t stand next to the entrance with a scowl on his face, Henry hobbled to a chair, sat and tried to not look so intimidating. He didn’t need someone calling the cops about him. Besides, it felt good to take the pressure off his ankle, even though his agitation did not ease and the buzzing remained.