The Reluctant Witness ( 3 )

III2

The sleek, silver telephone rang, an impersonal electronic sound. He raised his head slowly, a slightly perturbed look on his face. Deliberately, he laid the newspaper down and crossed the room to the recliner. He picked up the cordless receiver from the table and put it to his ear, glancing out the front window as he did. "Hello," he answered.3

"Hello, David." There was a long pause on each end of the line.4

"She's dead now. We have no more business together."5

"Yes, I was really sorry to hear about that, David, really sorry. I’m sure you'll want a few days to grieve, but I'm afraid I can't let our business be through. As a business executive, you should know that you can't let a lucrative account go away without an effort at retaining it. That's just good business, isn't it David?"6

"I told you she's dead," he hissed into the receiver. "We're finished."7

"Oh, we're certainly finished with the current business. I have no problem with that. But I’m sure we can work out something along other lines that will be beneficial for both of us."8

"I'm not interested. Can you understand that? I'm not interested." His face was contorted and he was gripping the phone so tightly that his knuckles were white. He began to pace the living room. There was a long pause from the other end of the line.9

"Well then, on another subject, David. I really enjoyed reading the article in the society section of the Dispatch the other day. You're quite a guy. Businessman, civic leader, a major benefactor of Children's Hospital. I didn't realize that you and your wife had lost two premature babies. All that money to the Premature Department was a wonderful gesture. And, the part about your parents in Pennsylvania. You must think a lot of them to provide such wonderful accommodations for their somewhat premature infirmity."10

David froze. He stopped breathing. His upper lip and forehead began to perspire. "You son of a bitch," he said through his teeth, grinding them together.11

"Well, David. Most business deals are concluded with a handshake and signatures on the contract. In this case I think we can forgo both. There's no need is there, since we each understand the other's position so well. I'll be in touch with more details in a few days. The merchandise may have to change slightly under the circumstances but I think we can work something out."12

David Highland's arm fell to his side, the phone slipping out of his hand and bumping softly on the thick carpet of the living room floor. He chin dropped to his chest. He was motionless for long moments until the shrill beeping from the phone snapped him out of his torpor. He picked it up and punched the TALK button. It was silent.13

"Shit," he said softly. "Shit."14

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Lynn squinted into the mirror, carefully pinning the last strands of her blond hair as close to the top of her head as she could get them. Then, carefully, she pulled the black wig on and moved it into place. She applied the dark eye shadow very liberally, the way she never did it except on these special occasions. She used the heavy dark pencil to outline her eyes, keeping as close to the lashes as she could. She added a short oriental-like upturn on the outside of each eye. She put on the dark lipstick, almost the color of long dried blood. Outside, springtime thunder crashed. Jagged streaks of lightening flashed outside the tightly closed windows, startling her even though she knew they were coming. She lightly smeared some of the dark pencil on her check and rubbed it in so that it gave the appearance of being a little dirty. She pulled on a ragged sweater she had gotten at a thrift shop and a pair of unironed slacks several sizes too large. She pulled the waist tight with a man's belt, also several sizes too large. She slid her feet into the ugliest pair of work shoes she had been able to find at the same thrift store, then pulled a knitted wool cap over her head until it nearly covered her ears. She stopped and looked out the window, an almost imperceptible shiver racing from her head to her feet.20

Going to the kitchen she took a large plastic garbage bag from the box. With a knife from one of the drawers she slit it up both sides and cut another slot in the middle of what would have been the bottom of the bag. She held it up and put her head through the slot. She had a poor man's raincoat. Back in the bedroom she took a pair of clear lens glasses from a drawer and put them on. She looked in the mirror and smiled. Lynn Smoker had disappeared.21

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"We're all here so let's get started." Lieutenant Luther Brodhead like to run things like a board meeting no matter who was there or how small the meeting was. Gary, Amanda, Vince and Luther sat around the table in the small room. Other than the table and chairs there was a large black board, an even larger cork bulletin board and two newsprint easels. One of the easels had a few items written on it. "Go ahead Mullins."29

Gary leaned back and looked at the small black writing he had put on paper. It was the first step in putting some order into the investigation of Ellie Highland's murder. "Well, actually, we've got more than we've usually got at this time." He looked at the others. "Doc Goldberg was good enough to finish the autopsy on a rush basis, probably because the last name is Highland. She was strangled, but not with the gold chain like we thought. The bruises are consistent with two hand strangulation. She was covered with semen but doc says there's absolutely nothing to, wait a minute and let me read this, quote, nothing to indicate or make me believe that she was raped. Therefore, I can only assume the sex was consensual, unquote. He does note however that the bulk of the semen was external including a significant amount in that grassy spot about 50 feet from where the body was found." He stopped and smiled, looking around at the other three faces. "Doc wasn't willing to speculate in his report about that rather strange set of circumstances. Off the record he still believes what we talked about this morning, that the male pulled out early."30

"Why would he do that?" Luther asked, a truly puzzled expression on his face.31

"We don't know really. Her husband says he doesn't think she was on the pill but he's not sure. He was kind enough to check through her things and called to say that he couldn't find anything. I'm not really sure he knew what he was looking for."32

"So we think this guy who probably killed her didn't want to get her pregnant." Luther leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. Gary knew it was difficult for him to restrain himself from laughing.33

"We don't know that yet. It's still one of the puzzles."34

"What about this husband?"35

"I'll get to that in a minute if that's okay. It might be easier if we just followed along chronologically."36

"Metamorphosis," Amanda said.37

"What?" the other two responded in unison.38

Gary's face reddened slightly. "Nothing," he said. "Inside joke."39

They looked in unison at Amanda who just shrugged her shoulders.40

"We also found a book of matches at the grassy area … "41

"Wait, wait," Luther interrupted. "What's this grassy area you keep talking about. 42

"Well, the body was found in among some bushes quite a little ways from any of the paths or walks. About 50 feet from where we found it is an area about 10 by 10 that is real grassy and the grass is fairly long. If you looked at the grass you could definitely see an outline where someone had laid in the grass. And, there were some dug up marks about where the feet would have been. We found the semen there and the match book. Mrs. Highland had grass stuck to her back side. We also found a lot of large deep footprints there. The lab guesses that whoever made the prints weighed somewhere around 250 pounds. They were also made with a size 14 shoe."43

"Sounds to me like all you guys have to do is make the arrest."44

"Well, that's the easy part. Here are the added attractions. She had several ounces of cocaine in her purse. Appears to be real good stuff but we'll know for sure in a few days.45

Her husband says he hasn't slept with her for months, that's why he didn't know she hadn't come in all night. According to him she left the house at 7:30 for a symphony board meeting but the board reports that she never got there. Doc says she was killed about 11:00 so that leaves about four and a half hours unaccounted for. And, the husband seemed truly surprised when we told him about the cocaine."46

"I’m not sure about that, Gary," Amanda interrupted. "I was just trying to watch him, kind of get a gage on his reactions to everything. When you mentioned the cocaine it seemed like there was a little hesitation before he reacted, almost like he wasn’t really expecting it and when it came he had to think about his reaction for just a second. Maybe I’m reading too much into it but that’s the way I saw it."47

"Vince, you were there. How’d you read it?" Luther threw in.48

"I’m not sure. The guy’s wife was just murdered. Not just dead but murdered. If he’s really not involved it has to be one hell of a shock. I’m not sure you react normally under those conditions."49

"And then," Amanda continued, "some ass hole cops start asking really obnoxious questions just when you’d like to be left alone."50

"So, are you taking back what you said?" Gary asked.51

She thought for a moment. "No, I don’t think so. That’s the way I read it."52

"Okay, what else?" Luther leaned back in his chair.53

"Well, David Highland goes maybe 160 pounds which doesn’t fit with the tracks at the scene. And I’d guess he’s a size nine or maybe nine and a half. Sure not a 14." Gary stood up and went to the board. He pointed to the last entry on the newsprint. "We also have the Woodford theory."54

"Oh, shit," Luther said, shaking his head. He looked around at the others. "Yeh, I know. Sometimes he’s right. Go ahead Mullins."55

Gary related Woodford’s idea that was familiar to Vince and Amanda but new to Luther.56

"And?" Luther said, rolling his eyes up to look at Gary.57

"Well, I went back to the park and looked at the tracks. They’re in a spot where someone might run who wanted to stay on a soft surface. Also, if you were running late at night it might actually be safer to be away from where you might meet other people, particularly if you’re female, and we think the tracks are definitely from a woman’s running shoe. We’re tracing the tread pattern just in case this leads somewhere. When you stand and look at the pattern of tracks, it’s easy to imagine someone suddenly seeing something, stopping and moving around a little to check out what they’re seeing, then getting scared and moving away fast."58

"So, you think it might really be something?"59

"I lean that way, yeh. What I’d like to do is give someone a chance to digest all that has happened and come forward on their own before I put out a request for a witness to come forward to help us."60

"Why not just a general request for anyone that has any information. Put in some personal stuff about her that might make someone think twice about not coming forward, this wonderful woman whose life was snuffed out in its prime, etc., etc."61

"That’s probably a good idea. If we’ve got a murderer out there who’s not really connected to her, you know, abducted her from the parking lot or something, I’d just as soon he not know that there might be a witness. I suspect that the witness would like to have it that way too."62

"By the way," Luther broke in again. "No one’s said anything about her car. Do we have it?"63

"Sorry," Gary said. "It was parked in the lot at Blendon Woods. The lab boys have been over it pretty good. Lots of prints, some fibers and, in the glove compartment, a book of matches just like the ones we found at the scene."64

"You think they could have fallen out of her purse, then?"65

"She doesn’t smoke so it’s not likely.66

"There was no sign at the Highland house that he smokes either, no ash trays, no nothing," Amanda contributed.67

"No, he doesn’t," Vince said. When we were leaving I took out my pack and offered him one. He said no thanks and that he doesn’t smoke."68

So what’s the connection?" Luther asked.69

"They’re from a club on 5^th Avenue," Vince said. "We’re checking on it to see if anyone remembers seeing her there."70

"Who’s checking?"71

"You assigned the four uniforms to help. One of them is on it."72

"Check it yourself, too," he said. "This one seems important."73

"Will do," Gary said, nodding at Vince who shook his head in assent.74

Luther stood up and began walking around the room, his hands in his pockets. The small room was beginning to heat up and Luther, in a white shirt and tie was heating up with it. Sweat glistened on his forehead – he walked so that the moving air might give the illusion of cooling him down. "This witness thing – keep after it. It just might pan out. Woodford’s about due. I think he’s none for three here lately. And, I’ve just got a hunch here, that with all the clues we’ve got already, this is going to move fast. One week at the most and we got him. Good job, guys." He stopped at the door. "Keep me informed." Then he was out of the room and gone.75

The others stood up, gathered up their papers and started out the door after Luther.76

"Hey, Gary, got a second," Vince said.77

"Sure. Hey, Anda. I’ll see you in a few minutes, okay."78

"Yeah," she said over her shoulder.79

Vince waited till she was out of sight. "What’da ya think of the iron maiden," he asked, smiling at Gary who suddenly eyed him warily.80

"Since you call her the iron maiden, I gather this has nothing to do with this case or other police work."81

"Man, she couldn’t take her eyes off you in there. If I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t have believed it but I think she’s got the hots for you."82

"I don’t think she’s got the hots for anyone, particularly me."83

"No, no, you’re wrong. Notice how quiet she was? Only made a couple of comments. I think she likes to hear you talk."84

Gary could feel his ire rising but he didn’t want to show it. He had a new respect for Amanda but Vince was not one to confide in. In fact, there was no one he could confide in.85

"You’re dreaming, Vince," he answered, not sure that he sounded convincing. The problem was that he had noticed it too, and not just during the meeting. Since that ride back to the station, she did seem to be looking at him differently. He was flattered that the "iron maiden" would pick him; he knew that his male ego was like that. But he wasn’t sure that he wanted it to happen. In fact, he was fairly sure that he didn’t. She would be a big help on this case but if Luther found out they were going out together or anything else together she’d be transferred as far away as he could get her. Gary didn’t want that and he was sure as hell that Amanda didn’t want it either. On the personal side he found her reasonable attractive. Short, cute, an athletic chunk, she fit neatly into one of his favorite categories. But, it couldn’t happen. He’d have to do something to stop it but, right now, he couldn’t think what it might be.86

"Think about it, Gary. She’d be a good addition to your collection." He playfully punched Gary on the shoulder.87

Gary gritted his teeth and his eyes narrowed. He wondered what Vince would look like with a black eye. He slowly unclinched the fist that had formed instinctively. A picture of the trailer park flashed through his mind.88

"Check out the bar, Vince. I’ll get to you later." He spun on his heel and headed for his desk, the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching.89

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Amanda picked up the phone and dialed the number.94

"BCI, Jeremy speaking."95

"Hi Jeremy. This is Amanda Graziano."96

"Hey, Amanda, how you been? Gotten any taller?"97

"Big enough to make you wish you never brought it up."98

"Talk, talk," he said, laughing into the phone.99

"Anything on that match book we sent over?"100

"For a change we’ve got something. A name for you. Guy applied for a federal job once so his prints were on file. Name is Clemence Usher."101

"No shit," she murmured.102

"Why, you know who it is."103

"Yeh, I do. It’s kind of an unusual name. Sticks with you. It’s a neighbor of the dead woman. Thanks, Jeremy. That’s a great help."104

She hung up the phone and dialed another number.105

"Lewis."106

"Vince. Amanda. Guess whose prints were on the match book?"107

"Go ahead," he said.108

"Clemence Usher." There was silence on the other end of the line.109

"You weren’t there when he came to see Highland the day we found the body in the woods were you," he said after the pause. "That guy’s gotta be six five and two fifty easy."110

"Match number two," she said.111

"Meet me in the room. I’ll get Gary." he said and hung up.112

Two minutes later they were sitting at the small table.113

"What’s up," Gary said.114

"The prints on the match book belong to the Highland’s neighbor," Amanda said quickly.115

"And good friend," Vince added, "who just happens to be six five and two fifty if he’s an inch and an ounce."116

"You saw him," Gary stated. "Think there’s anything there?"117

"His fingerprint on the matchbook, big, deep footprints at the murder scene. Sure enough to look at a little harder."118

Amanda leaned forward in her chair. "Let me try to talk to him," she said.119

"You're here to learn," Gary countered. If you go you'll go with one of us."120

"Hear me out," she continued, undaunted by the verbal put-down. "If two of us go, and he's involved, it's a signal that we're digging. If this female cop just stops by to get some information about the Highlands, very casual, of course, he might be a little looser." She looked expectantly from one to the other. There was no response. "You assholes," she snapped. "Somebody ought to cut those things off. You can't see anything through all those hormones." She stood up and began pacing.121

"What the hell happens if you screw up? Luther will cut those things off." Vince said, looking at Gary.122

"And do something obscene with them," Gary added.123

"Is that a yes?" Amanda said, facing them.124

"Try it," Gary added, a condescending look on his face. "But try to stay cool."125

"You mean I shouldn't be a midget bitch."126

"Close enough."127

"You got it. And, by the way, I've got one of the uniforms posted in the park talking to all the joggers, trying to get some names that we can talk to. It might work."128

"Good," Gary said. "Good job."129

They stood up and walked out the door.130

"Hey Vince," someone yelled from across the room. "Phone, buddy." He headed for his desk.131

Amanda turned to Gary and smiled, a broad, warm smile. "Thanks," she said.132

"Nothing personal," he said. "You earned it." Then he added, "Just don't screw it up." His last remark didn't have the ring of sincerity to it.133

"Thanks anyway," she said, still grinning.134

My God, she has brown eyes, he thought.135

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Lynn parked the car, but stayed inside, sitting still for a long time. She liked to let the tension build within her, feel the adrenaline rush, let her heart rate climb and then be ready for whatever might come her way. She reached into the ragged backpack on the seat beside her and took out her cell phone and was about to turn it off when it rang, startling her. She looked at it for several seconds, trying to decide whether or not to answer it. Finally, she pushed the button. "Smoker," she said quietly. 142

"Mrs. Highland wasn't sleeping with her husband. He didn't even know she hadn't come home."143

"What else?"144

"That's all for now." The phone went dead.145

Lynn gently chewed her lower lip trying to decide what to do. She probably should drop tonight's plan and see what she could do about the information she had just received. She thought for a moment and was ready to start the car when she heard voices. Ducking down, she let them pass. She recognized the voices as Justin and Matt. They were headed along the sidewalk toward Kelley's. Seeing them made the decision for her. It wasn't too often you found the two of them together and she might as well take advantage of it.146

When they were gone she waited for another 30 seconds, gently fingering the small locket that she had carefully pulled out from the neck of the ragged sweater. She touched it to her lips, then put it carefully back inside the sweater. She quietly opened the car door, carefully locked it and then stepped out onto the sidewalk, the few gentle rain drops still falling making a strange clicking noise on the plastic of the garbage bag. Two blocks of walking later she was at the front door of Kelly's, a fringe university area bar frequented by locals and by students who thought they were tough enough to get along in the hostile environment that fed the natural resentments each group had for the other. The place always seemed about two words from a fight but she knew that within it were the roots of the story she wanted. It was her story, one that no one else knew about, that the editors at the station would never ever condone before hand but wouldn't be able to get enough of once it was done.147

She was fascinated by the unknown details of how narcotics moved from the knife and gun near-north community to the sophisticated residences and Greek societies of the university. She wanted a story about the people, the day to day dealings, the money and who was getting it. She wanted to see it all on television, reported, and lived by Lynn Smoker. Then, just maybe, it would be on to the networks and the big money. A long way from Obetz she thought as she opened the door and went inside.148

The bar was unusually crowded. There were several people she didn't recognize including three very dirty, and ugly guys who were obviously from the neighborhood. At least, she was fairly sure they weren't students although she had been wrong before. She spotted Justin sitting at a table along the side wall just as he saw her. He waved for her and then lifted up an empty chair. She worked her way through the crowd, said hello to two or three others at the table and sat down.149

"How were classes today, Betsey?" Justin asked, putting his hand on her shoulder. He was a burly, six foot tall ex-high school wrestler with the personality to match. He had wrestled at 175 pounds and played football at 195 pounds. He certainly wasn't handsome but his aggressiveness and the big toothy smile that shown so freely made him an extremely likeable and popular guy. "Nice raincoat, too," he added.150

"Like always," she answered, ignoring the comment about the rain coat. "You gotta go to graduate. And that's what I want, to graduate and get out of here. Won't happen soon enough for me," she added.151

"Don’t we all," he said. "I thought I saw you the other day on campus."152

She froze. She had been on campus earlier in the week doing a report on some consulting that was going on in the business school. And, she had seen him, crossing the oval from Haggerty Hall to U Hall. He had looked at her and at the crew but didn’t stop or even slow down. There was no way, she reasoned, that he would associate the blond reporter with ‘Betsy’. "I saw you this week," she said which was true. "I waved and yelled but you didn’t hear me and I was gonna be late to class so I didn’t chase you down." Not true, but a nice touch she thought. She had spent an entire day preparing for this adventure, walking around the campus to familiarize herself with the layout. It was so large that she couldn’t get to all the areas but she knew that none of the regular students got to all the areas either so that wouldn’t be unusual. She’d gone to the College of Nursing offices and spent time going through the catalog so she’d know what the curriculum was and what courses were required. She’d chosen nursing because she guessed that most of the students she’d have contact with would not be in nursing.153

Matt leaned out and looked around Justin. "You still in nursing?" His eyes looked a little bleary and bloodshot.154

She looked at him and smiled. He was obviously a little high on something. "Same as last week," she said. 155

"Yeh," he replied blankly. "You still don’t look like a nurse." He leaned back in his chair and disappeared behind Justin.156

"You don’t," Justin said, leaning back in his chair and eyeing her. "You don’t look like a nurse." It was a subject they had covered before and it worried her a little. "I just can’t see you cleaning up shit and puke and being really sweet to some 90 year old guy that can’t even remember his own name."157

"I can do that," she answered. "And, when I’m a nurse, and they bring you in because some irate husband beat the shit out of you, you’ll find out how sweet I can be."158

He smiled, but there was something sinister in it, something she really didn’t like. "I don’t think I’d want some spaced out nurse taking care of me," he said finally.159

"Without spaced out people, you’d be out of business," she countered.160

"There’d be something else," he answered.161

She knew he was right. Justin’s stepfather was a surgeon in Shaker Heights, a wealthy suburb of Cleveland. He was an only child, an honor student, an outstanding athlete, and a manipulator. He learned early that he could manipulate his mother into getting him the things he wanted if he adjusted his behavior accordingly. Thus, a bad trait would develop, a seemingly unconnected desire for a toy or clothing, etc., would be noted and, when the desire was satisfied, the undesirable trait would miraculously disappear. He had suspected much later that his mother was aware of what was happening but found it much more agreeable to acquiesce than resist. He had manipulated his father into getting him a car by allowing his grades to drop for two grading periods, then heartily agreeing to work hard to bring them up at the offer of the car. It all had worked well until his father found that Justin was using his generous allowance to buy narcotics and sharing them with other students and his English teacher, a 22 year old fresh and somewhat naïve college graduate, who found both Justin and his drugs to be totally fascinating. The allowance had disappeared and he had been banished to Ohio State instead of Yale. Needing to keep the income that he had gotten used to, he now manipulated his "friends", giving them drug samples or charging them a minimum price for a quick hit, then finally locking them in to the profitable sales. He was the main character in her report, now nearly done. She could almost taste the relief. Being disguised as she was tonight was exciting, a real rush, but she also knew it was dangerous. The more time she spent around Justin, the more she realized that he wouldn’t hesitate to do something drastic to keep things the way they were. The only tempering factor seemed to be that he had an intense survival instinct and would be able to stop himself from doing something that might endanger his ability to have fun and get the things that he wanted and do the things he liked to do. He might hurt her but she didn’t think he would kill her. She looked around the table, at the other girl and the two boys, all Justin’s hangers on, content to study, get high and pass their allowances to him. Or, worse yet, a few of them helped him by small scale selling on campus. She felt sorry for them, but not for him. He really seemed to amoral with no particular feelings for anyone.162

Suddenly, the back of her neck seemed to tingle and she was vaguely aware of a large shadow looming next to her. She looked up and realized that the three dirty men she had seen at the bar were now hovering over their table. One of them put his hand on the back of her neck and she knew where the tingle had come from. She shuddered, a dark forboding dropping over her like a hangman’s shroud.163

"Justin," the one with his hand on her neck said. "Good to see you here with your friends." Despite his size, the voice was high pitched and raspy.164

Without moving his head, Justin rolled his eyes upward but said nothing.165

"Well," the raspy voice continued. "I wouldn’t say anything either if I was you. And, right now, thank God I’m not you." His hand tightened on her neck. It was beginning to hurt.166

"Why don’t you let loose of Betsy and then we’ll talk. There’s no problem, you know." Justin’s voice was low and even, but different, almost like the quiet growl of a cornered dog.167

"Betsey, huh. Ain’t there some story about sweet Betsy from somewhere?" The hand tightened more and it was all she could do to keep from letting the pain show on her face. She couldn’t allow that. She wasn’t sure what Justin might do. 168

"It’s a song, asshole. Now let loose of her neck and we’ll talk." His voice kept that same low but sharply edged tone.169

But the hand only tightened more and she winced.170

"I think Betsy’s his piece’a ass for tonight." The thumb and forefinger dug in and she screamed.171

It all happened so quickly that she lost track of everything. From nowhere, a small baseball bat appeared in Justin’s hand. She saw it swing, heard the thump and the groan as it struck one of the other of the three. Then, although she never saw it coming, raspy voice’s fist caught her full in the stomach and she went down. She realized that she couldn’t breath and she was vomiting. There were legs and feet everywhere. She heard loud voices, heard the report of flesh on flesh, was bumped by legs and feet, smelled her own vomit. Then, her well honed sense of self preservation kicked in and she began crawling toward the door. It was both agonizingly slow and agonizingly painful. She found herself at the side door instead of at the front door. She reached up and was barely able to press the bar. The sign said an alarm would sound but the door opened and there was no alarm. She crawled out. There was a shuffle behind her and suddenly some feet beside her. She heard a raspy voice. "Fuckin’ bitch," it said. A long forgotten survival sense made her move her head and she felt the air from the foot and the shoe laces scratched her cheek as their wayward path carried them past her head. But, before she could move again, the foot arced toward her, into her side and ribs. She screamed in pain and then it hit again. Her mind had no words for what she felt. Through the red haze she heard the feet running away.172

She had to get away. Even in her semi-conscousness she knew that. This was worse than anything she had ever experienced but her sub-conscious told her that if she didn’t get through it, she would be no more. The Lynn Smoker that she had created would be gone. That single thought pushed through the pain, submerged the agony, and drove her to move. And she did move, silent tears streaming down her face. She moved slowly but she moved. She couldn’t breath, she was gasping, she knew she had vomited again but she moved. 173

The alley. She was in the alley. She was aware that the rough gravel was cutting her knees but she didn’t care. She crawled, hearing the splash of water as she moved, each movement torture, but the thought of not crawling, of staying there was an even greater torture. Each movement took intense concentration and effort. Her body wanted only to collapse and die. She had to think about moving one leg and then the other, one arm and then the other, all filtered through the thickening haze of pain that engulfed more of her being with each agonizing second. The ground under her seemed to feel different and she realized that she was crossing a street. Thank God no cars came and, in this neighborhood, there would not be any casual strollers out. More crawling, more agony.174

She kept crawling, kept moving, trying to get away. She had to do it, to make it, to get where she had to go if she could just remember where that was. She was going somewhere, but where? Her legs and arms were moving, consuming all the energy and all the connections her brain could muster. In some far away corner of her consciousness she was vaguely aware of how much it hurt to breath, that each inhale was a short raspy gasp and each exhale a breathy groan. It was so difficult to open her eyes. It was so difficult to do anything. She stopped moving so she could concentrate on opening her eyes. She recognized somehow that she need to know where she was. Finally, with a great effort, she looked around. Through the tears that continued to fill here eyes, she could dimly see that she was at the parking lot. She could see her car. If only she could get there. She crawled some more but wasn’t aware of crawling. Her head bumped something. She moved a little sideways and tried again. Another bump. She forced herself to look once more. It was her car. She put her head against the door to brace herself and tried to reach into her pocket for the key. The movement brought new levels of pain crashing against her. She ignored them, only the tears and the moans indicating what she was going through. She wasn’t sobbing. Somehow it hurt too much to sob.175

She reached up and with an effort that was beyond what she thought she was capable of, got the key in the lock and turned it. It took several minutes to get to a position where she could reach the handle and several more minutes to get the door open. With every movement, small, anguished sounds escaped her lips. Then, wet and muddy and covered with scrapes and scratches, somehow she was inside, on the floor in the front seat. She heaved again but there was nothing left to come up. She sensed that the light was on, then heard the door swing shut against her foot and the click as it latched. She forced her arm forward until she felt the cell phone. She pulled it in front of her face and pressed the buttons. She wasn’t a praying person but she prayed. She reached up for the neck of her sweater, trying the grasp the fine chain that held the locket. But, it hurt too much and she couldn’t get it. She heard the ring and then, the most wonderful sound of her life. "Hello"176

"Gary," she said, her voice weak and desperate. "Help me."177

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The green Intrepid wheeled into the parking lot, water splashing and gravel flying. It slowed momentarily, then pulled in next to the Chrysler. Gary jumped out and sprinted around the car and looked through the Chrysler’s window. "Oh, shit," was all he could say. He opened the door. She was still on the floor, a contorted grimace causing his heart to jump, then nearly stop. He lay down on the seat and put his face close to hers. "Lynn, it’s Gary. I’m here." A thousand questions raced through his brain but there would be time for that later. He saw an eye open. The grimace relaxed slightly. "What happened?"185

"Kicked," she said, "and hit." The words were squeezed out, as though she was still being hit.186

"I’ve got to figure out how to get you to the hospital."187

"No!" she exclaimed and this time both eyes opened. "No! No!"188

His heart was aching and it was all he could do to keep from throwing his arms around her and holding her. "You’re hurt," he said softly. "I’ve got to."189

"No!" she said again. Her breath wheezed in before each word as her lungs fought against the pain from the broken ribs.190

"Look at you. You can’t even breathe. Damn it, Lynn, you’re going to the hospital."191

She lifted her head slightly. He knew the effort to do that had to cost her dearly. "You bastard," she wheezed. A tear left the corner of each eye and slowly ran across her cheeks. "It’s my life. Don’t fuck with me. Just help me." Her head collapsed back to the floor. Her eyes were still open and she watched his face for a response. When she saw it relax slightly, she tried to smile.192

He leaned down again, his face close to hers and without thinking, kissed her on the cheek. 193

An almost unknown warmth seemed to cross the part of her face that he could see. Out of the corner of her mouth she whispered, "Don’t get horny … on me now, Mullins," and it was his turn for the tears.194

"What do you want to do? And can you talk enough to tell me?"195

Her head moved up and down. He imagined that must be easier than talking. "Take me to my place. Change my clothes. Take me to hospital. Tell them I fell down steps." The sentences were short and gaspy.196

"How am I going to do that. You can’t even move."197

"Just do. Hurts me, not you."198

He knew that wasn’t going to be true. He was hurting so much already he could hardly stand it. And the next part of the process was worse. He opened the car door and to the accompaniment of assorted squeals, moans and occasional curses that nearly ripped his heart from his chest, she backed herself out of the front seat floor. Then, using his arms and his back, he was under her and helping her to stand. More moans until their eyes connected, just before he was ready to lower her onto the back seat. After that there were no more sounds, only his own silent anguish.199

Then there was the slow drive to her condominium. Thank God she had a garage. He used the automatic control on the visor, finally closing the door when they were inside. Then, out of the car and up the steps. There were no whimpers or moans. He helped her lay down on the living room rug even though she wanted to go upstairs to help him find the right clothes.200

"Okay," he said. "It’s evening and you were relaxing. I’m going up and find a sweat shirt and sweat pants. You have both?"201

Her head moved.202

"I’ll take that as a yes. Don’t go away," he said over his shoulder as he took the steps two at a time. When he came back down she was smiling.203

"Bastard," she croaked.204

"Bitch," he responded.205

"Take everything off," she added.206

"I don’t have to do that," he said, a little surprised.207

"Better you … " She winced. " … than them."208

He wanted to look at the ceiling while he undressed and redressed her. But, he found it wasn’t hard at all to stay clinical. He took off the wig and unpinned her hair. He used a rag from the kitchen to wipe off the grotesque make up she had applied. Getting the old pants off and the sweat pants on wasn’t too difficult. Exchanging sweaters had to be excruciating for her. When the old ragged one came off, she reached up slowly and fingered the locket.209

"You want me to take that off too?" he asked, reaching for the clasp.210

Her hand closed around the gold, square shaped piece. "No," she said, her eyes flashing at him.211

The thought crossed his mind that all bras should be front closers, like hers. It made things so much easier. It took several minutes to get her into the new sweatshirt and they were ready to move again.212

Then, the reverse of the previous trip, back to the car in the garage.213

"You can moan and scream if you want to," he said.214

She ignored him.215

When she was in the car he said, "I’m a policeman. I should report this. You play hell with my brain and my life when you do this to me."216