by Thomas Scott
“I was wondering. Is there any way that I could move one floor up?”
“What?” the nurse asked. Why would you want to do that? That’s the cancer ward.”
“I know,” Virgil said. She stared at him, a look of confusion on her face, and then walked out of the room.
23
The next morning when he woke, Virgil wiggled his toes a little and the pain pulled him from the clutches of sleep like a demented tour guide with a cruel agenda. His mouth tasted like at some point in the night he’d sworn off hospital food and eaten his pillow instead. And he had to pee.
Sandy showed up, said hello, then went to check with the nurses’ station to see when the doctor might stop by to release Virgil and when she came back into the room, she told him that the nurse said the doctor was going to be delayed. “He got called into an emergency surgery.”
“Ah man. Any idea how long?”
Sandy shook her head. “They didn’t know. Listen, I talked to your dad this morning. I’m going to go pick him up and we’re going to get your truck from the station and get it back to your house. I’ll be back to take you home after I drop him off. That okay?”
“Sure,” Virgil said. “Grab my case notes off my desk will you?”
“Virgil…”
“What? I’m just going to be sitting around. Might as well do the paperwork. By the way, how’d my truck get back to the station?”
“Rosie drove it over there and put it in the lot.”
“Oh man, you let Rosie drive my truck?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Have you ever seen his car?”
“You worry too much, Jonesy. Hey, you’re going home today. Treat me right and maybe I’ll dress up in a little nurse’s uniform for you, make you forget all about the paperwork. You know, show you what a real sponge bath is like.” She winked at him. “See you in an hour or so, boyfriend.”
Boyfriend. He liked that.
Later that same afternoon Sandy was back and the doctor came in with a list of instructions for his release. The nurse who was with him scheduled an appointment for a follow-up visit the next week and after another hour and a half of preparations and paperwork, Virgil was informed he was free to go. Forty-five minutes later they were back at Virgil’s place.
Sandy turned on the lights and generally woke the place up while Virgil settled onto the couch and tried to get comfortable. “What can I get you?” she asked.
The time had gotten away from him and the ride from the hospital had taken its toll. “I’m getting behind on the pain. I could use a couple of pills.”
She brought him the medicine then slipped her hand into Virgil’s and said, “So, what’s next?”
“Is that a big question, or a little one?”
“What do you think?” she said.
“I think it’s a big one.”
“You’d probably be right,” Sandy said. “If it were a little one, I’d say something like, ‘how about a pizza?’ And then you’d say, ‘sure, what do you like?’ And I’d say—”
“Okay, I get it. The truth of it is, I don’t know what’s next. But you know what?”
“What?”
“I don’t want to know. I know where we’ve been, I know where we are, and I know what I want. You’re here…we’re here, and we’re together. That’s what matters to me right now.”
Sandy pulled her feet up under her and laid her head on Virgil’s shoulder. After a few minutes, she lifted her head and said, “You know, for a while, you’re going to need someone here to help you.”
“Yeah, I was kind of thinking the same thing.”
They sat there with that for a little while, then Sandy said, “You could ask Donatti.”
“That won’t work. He’s married, remember? His wife won’t let him come over anymore.”
“Well, what about Rosie?”
“Naw, he’d just drink all my beer. Plus, he’s kind of a slob. I’ve got a certain standard I like to maintain around here.”
“Hmm. Guess you’re out of luck, then,” Sandy said.
“Yeah. I guess so. Too bad there isn’t someone, you know, who could sort of move in for a while and keep an eye on things. Help me around. Like that.”
“Yeah, that is too bad,” Sandy said.
“Just about anyone would do, really.”
“You know, I’m pretty busy and everything,” Sandy said. “But if I moved some stuff around on my schedule, I bet I could do it. And look, I don’t want to seem too forward or anything, because I’m not really that kind of girl, but I went ahead and put a bag together thinking you might want me to stay for a few days or something.”
“You put a bag together, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Is it a big bag?”
“Well, it’s big enough that I’ve got options.”
“A girl’s gotta have options.”
“Yep, options are good.”
Virgil tried to look serious. “Well, the closet is pretty full. I guess I could give you a drawer.”
“Really? A drawer? You mean I’d get my very own drawer?”
“Well sure. That’s just the kind of guy I am.”
Sandy grabbed his pants at the top by his waist and bunched them up in her fist. “I’ve got your drawers, mister.”
And with that, Virgil forgot all about his past, both the distant and the recent and for a while, even the pain in his leg. It all melted away against the warmth of a place where no one is judged, where the mind, body, spirit, and soul are all one and the same.
When he woke the next morning, Virgil was alone in bed, the throbbing of his leg in time with the beat of his heart. Sandy came in a few minutes later carrying a tray with coffee and juice, her robe open in front of her body, its edges barely covering the swell of her breasts.
“How you feeling, cowboy?” She set the tray down on the night table next to the bed and leaned over and kissed him good morning.
Virgil looked at her in the robe, the curve of her hips, the little space between the tops of her thighs when she stood with her legs together, the dangled jewel of her belly ring, her hair tangled from sleep. He took her hand and guided it to his stomach, then gently pushed her further down. “This is how I’m feeling,” he said. “Since you asked, and all.”
And then the morning was mostly gone too.
Later, after they’d both gotten cleaned up and dressed for the day, they sat across from each other at the kitchen table, Virgil’s leg propped up under a pillow on the chair next to him. It felt good to have it elevated for a while, but then it’d start to bark at him and he’d have to set it down on the floor. Then that would become uncomfortable too, so he’d prop it back up again. The back and forth was driving him nuts.
“Wait till it starts itching,” Sandy said. “That’ll drive you mad. Listen, I need to talk to you about something.”
Uh-oh.
“Yesterday, when I went to your office to get the case notes you wanted I ran into Cora. We had an interesting conversation.”
“Is this about us?”
“Yeah, it is,” Sandy said. “I know we didn’t have a chance to talk about it—what she said to you a few days ago on the phone, but she laid it out pretty clear for me. We have to choose.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to her.”
She reached across the table and took his hand. “Let me finish, okay. It’s not all bad. You probably don’t know this, but about six years ago, and every year since, I’ve been trying to get on with the Indiana Law Enforcement Academy over in Plainville.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. And guess who greased the wheels for me.”
“Who?”
“The governor.”
“What? You asked the governor to help you?”
“Well, I sort of mentioned it in passing.”
“Sandy, he’s a pretty powerful guy. Are you sure you want to get in bed with him?”
“You’re the only one I’m getting into bed with
, Virgil.”
“You know what I mean. So I take it there’s an opening at the Academy?”
“Yep. Director of Training. He says it’s mine if I want it.”
“Just like that?”
“Well, he said they’d have to keep the posting up, let others apply, all that business, but other than maintaining appearances, yeah, it’s mine. I just have to say the word.”
“What kind of timeline are we talking about?”
“The current director leaves in thirty days. They’d want me in time for that.”
Virgil took his leg from the chair and placed it back on the floor. Things were moving faster than he thought they would. He and Sandy had something though. Something strong. Still, could he ask her to leave her current position for something completely new and different just so they could be together as a couple? It didn’t seem fair.
Then, as if she could read his mind, she said, “It’s just a job, Virgil. I know it might feel like things are moving pretty quick right now, but you and I both know that’s nobody’s business but our own. If I have to take this job so we can be together without the headache of hiding our relationship or dealing with someone else’s bullshit bureaucracy, then that’s what I think I should do. I won’t do it unless you say you want me to, but I hope you do.”
Virgil nodded, and the words were out of his mouth almost before he realized it. “I do.”
“Say that again, would you?”
He smiled at her. “I do.”
“I like the way that sounds. Big words though for a guy that only gives a girl one drawer.”
“Yeah, well, about that. I was kidding about the closet. It’s mostly empty.”
“Yeah, I know. I looked.”
“So there’s probably something I should tell you,” Virgil said. “I knew you applied for the job.”
“What? How?”
“Well, I know quite a few people over at the Academy, and when they saw your paperwork come through one of them called me. I think you wasted a favor with the governor. From what they told me, unless you blew the interview or something, they were going to hire you anyway.”
“Virgil…”
24
The next day, late in the morning Virgil was back at the kitchen table, his case notes and files spread out around him. He’d tried working at his desk, but there were two problems: one, there was not enough desk space for everything he wanted to look at, and two, he just couldn’t get comfortable. There wasn’t a good way to prop his leg up. Sandy helped him move everything to the kitchen, then kissed him goodbye before she left to go downtown and hammer out the details of her new position with the academy.
Two hours later and halfway through his reports the phone rang. He followed the ringing and saw the phone on the end table in the other room. Should have thought about that. The machine was turned off, and by the time he got the crutches under him and over to the phone the ringing had stopped. He brought up the caller ID, saw who it was, and punched the number back in.
“Marion County Prosecutor’s Office. How may I direct your call?”
“Hi, Detective Virgil Jones, for Preston Elliott, please.”
“One moment, Detective, I’ll see if he’s in.”
Virgil started to tell the receptionist that he knew Elliott was in because he’d just missed his call, but she had already clicked off. But then she clicked right back on, again. “I’m sorry, did I cut you off? I think you were saying something.”
“No, no, that’s fine. I was just saying I just missed his call, is all.”
“Very well, sir. One moment.”
Virgil thought he could hear her eyes rolling on the other end of the phone. A few seconds later, the line clicked again and Elliott picked up. “Jonesy, thanks for calling back.”
“Sorry I didn’t get to the phone. Takes me a little longer to get around than I’m used to. How are you, Preston?”
“I’m doing well. The question is, how are you?”
“Pretty good,” Virgil said, wincing at his own bad grammar. “Behind on my paperwork, though. I’m guessing that’s why you’re calling?”
“I knew there was a reason they called you detective. We want to get everything filed and get this one off the books. How much time do you need for your reports, you being crippled and all?”
Instead of answering, Virgil said, “How many times have you watched the tape?”
“The one where Pate takes the back of his head off, or the one with the governor tossing his lunch?”
“The one with Pate,” Virgil said, hoping the sarcasm was not as obvious as it sounded in his head.
“Only twice, unless you count the nightmares I’ve been having.”
“Anything jump out at you.”
“Like what?”
“That’s what I’m asking you, Preston. Anything at all?”
“Nothing other than the obvious,” Elliott said. “He cried a river, admitted he was not only a sexual deviant but a pedophile as well, admitted torching his Houston church and then, well, I guess you know the rest of it. He punched his own ticket. Case closed.”
“Yeah, I guess we’ve seen the same tape, then.”
“What is it, Jonesy?” Some impatience.
“It’s not what he admitted. It’s what he didn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why pack every seat in the house, go on TV and confess your sins then pop yourself without telling it all?”
“You’re speaking of the fact that he didn’t mention his connection with the Senior and Junior Wells?”
“You got it. But not only didn’t he confess, he didn’t even mention them. These two nut jobs are driving around the city taking people out with a sniper rifle, and we know they’re connected, Pate and the Wells. It just doesn’t make sense to me.”
“Hey, who knows what these psychopaths are thinking? It was obvious he was going to go out on his own terms. Maybe he just got ahead of himself and popped his top before he said everything he wanted to say. I could sort of see that happening.”
“I don’t know. Seems off to me.”
“Hey, at their heart, suicides are cowards, right? Maybe he just didn’t have the stones to admit it.”
“But he had the balls to put a gun in his mouth and pull the trigger?”
“Do you have any physical evidence that puts him at the scene of any of the other murders?”
“No.”
“But we do have forensics that puts Wells and his daughter there, am I right?”
“And they’re both dead. So if Pate was pulling their strings, why not just admit it, along with everything else?”
“You know what? I don’t know. But it’s case closed, Jonesy. Send me your reports so I can get on with my life, will you?”
“I’ll have Detective Small bring them over to you tomorrow.”
“Hey,” Elliott said. “How is Sandy? I’m hearing a rumor that you two are some kind of an item. What’s the skinny on that?”
“So long, Preston.”
Virgil carried the phone back to the kitchen table and as soon as he sat down it rang again.
“Hey good lookin’. What’s cookin’?” Sandy said.
“Nothing much. Just doing the paper. You finished down there already?”
“Nope. That’s why I’m calling. I’m going to be here a little longer than I thought.”
“Well, how long?” Virgil said, instantly regretting the tone in his voice.
“What’s the matter, Jonesy?”
“Ah, nothing. I didn’t mean to snap at you. These pills, they help with the pain, but they make me sort of cranky or something. I’m sorry. What I really want is for you to be here, at our place.”
“Maybe you should call the doctor, see if there’s something else he could give you.”
“It’ll be all right,” he said, then told her of the conversation he’d just had with Preston Elliott. “It seems like a hell of a loose end to me.”
“Yeah, I can see
that. But I think I agree with what Elliott said. Guys like that have got a screw loose somewhere. They’re completely unpredictable. Maybe he left that part out on purpose.” Then, she added, “About the pain, it’ll get better. You’re in the hard part, right now, this period of a few days after surgery. They say that’s always the worst. But you’ll get through it. Look at what we’ve got ahead of us, Virgil. It’s all going to work out beautifully. Hey, you know what I’m excited about?”
“What?”
“Excited and a little scared too.”
“What?”
“Getting to know your dad. I don’t have any preconceived notions about it or anything, but in the back of my mind I’ve got this idea that he’ll be able to help me fill a gap I’ve been carrying around with me for a long time.”
“You know what? I’m sure my dad would want that, but he’s not the easiest guy in the world to get along with sometimes. He doesn’t really open himself up that way. At least not with me.”
“It’s probably hard for him too. You’re his child, Virgil. No matter how old you are, or how grown up you are, you’ll always be his child.”
“I think in many ways, my dad could give you what you’re looking for. All I’m saying is he’s the kind of guy that gives on his own terms and not necessarily the needs of others. I just don’t want to see you get hurt because of an expectation you might have that he’s not willing to fulfill.”
“Your father could never hurt me, Jonesy.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Probably, he says. Hey, did you hear yourself a minute ago? You said ‘our place?’”
They said goodbye to each other and as soon as he set the phone down, it rang yet again. Christ.
