Drawn Together (7 page)

Detective Jenks said, “Mr. Delaplaines, I’d like to have a word with you at my office.” Rory didn’t look up. He sat on the side of the hospital bed next to Yamane, willing his friend and idol to look at him. Yamane would not meet his eyes.

“I see,” he said around the lump in his throat. “In the interest of keeping Yamane safe, I would be happy to do whatever I can.” He stood and raised the guardrail on the bed. There was little more to say if even Yamane thought him capable of such a betrayal. Rory felt desperate to say something, but no words came to him. He turned and left with Detective Jenks.

“I hated to have to say that,” said Jenks. “I could see he cares for you.”

“It’s all right. You wouldn’t be doing your job if you didn’t question me. I admit it does look suspicious. For all he knows, I’ve been with what’s-her-name all along.”

“I’m sure we’ll get this straightened out. Things like this just need due diligence,” said Detective Jenks. “My car is in the parking structure. Come with me, and when we’re done, I’ll bring you back to the hospital or the hotel, whichever you choose.” 38 Z. A. Maxfield

“I wonder if I should just go home. He told me to leave anyway; he thinks she’ll come after me. Apparently she killed his dog.”

“What kind of a person kills dogs?” Jenks muttered.

“Can I tell you something strange?” asked Rory. “I noticed at the time, but it was all so shocking I hardly thought about it. She was really strong. Yamane’s small, but he’s not weak.

She had him by the wrist and he couldn’t budge his arm. Then she stabbed all the way through his hand with a fork. I mean, it’s not like I have personal knowledge of that or anything, but I hunt. I’ve cleaned a big fish or two. That would take real muscle power. I thought it seemed odd.”

“Drugs?” Jenks said thoughtfully. “Maybe. But crazy people can be pretty strong too.

You really care for him too, don’t you?” He used his remote entry to open the door to a Honda Accord.

“Oddly enough, I do.” Rory got in the passenger side.

“We’ll make this quick.”

Rory looked back at the hospital as they were driving away. They drove along the waterfront area that he saw when he was trying to find parking for the convention, and then headed out farther into what seemed to be shipyards. They went over the Vincent Thomas Bridge, after which Rory saw signs that said TERMINAL ISLAND. “Is this where the police station is?”

“Yes,” said Jenks, looking straight ahead. “We’ll be there in just a minute.

Suddenly, something about the whole situation seemed wrong to Rory. Then he noticed the Enterprise Rental key ring dangling from the ignition.

“You know” -- he closed his eyes -- “I should have known as soon as I saw your car, but it didn’t dawn on me until just now.”

“Not as slow as I was hoping,” said Jenks. “But not a Nobel Prize winner either.”

“Well, I’m a stranger here, so I’m at a disadvantage. On the other hand, I’m from New Orleans, and cops haven’t always been for real there.” He was silent for a minute. “But at least they were cops.”

“Bingo. But to be fair, I actually was a cop at one time. In the future, remember, it’s always smart to ask for identification before you talk to the police,” he remarked casually.

“Also, in your case I’d say you should be a little more discriminating about who you go to hotels with. What about the car gave it away?”

“Back home, no self-respecting cop would drive a bitty foreign car like this. If it’s for work, you use the cruiser or an unmarked vehicle; if it’s personal, you take your truck. And you have a rental tag on your keys.”

“Ah,” he said. “I actually own a truck.”

“What do you plan to do with me?” asked Rory, his heart sinking.

Drawn Together

39

“I don’t plan anything. I’m just in charge of deliveries. Amelia wants to have a word.

Here we are.”

Jenks stopped the car at the end of a commercial boatyard, then got out his cell phone and made a call. He stepped out of the car and closed the door so Rory couldn’t hear what he was saying. A few minutes later, another car drove up. Two men got out of one of the cars.

They walked toward where the man Rory knew as Jenks stood. The three engaged in a quiet discussion, nodding and agreeing. Jenks walked to the car they arrived in and drove off. Rory had been delivered. What can brown do for you?

Finally, a small silver Audi pulled up, and Amelia got out of the driver’s side. She wore an attractive red business suit. Out of her room service uniform, Rory could see she was a woman about Yamane’s age, nice-looking but overweight. She exuded a vitality and power that were unmistakable. Rory noticed she had an inner light that she turned on and off at different times. As soon as she saw him, her eyes lit up like a cat with a new toy.

“Here you are at last,” she said. “I was worried that Jenks would fail me.” The two men he’d seen Jenks speaking with came over and yanked the door of the Honda open.

One of the men clasped his arm and tugged. “Get out of the car.” Rory complied, but when he made to pull his arm back he found the man had it in an unbreakable hold. “I’ll admit I wasn’t too bright. I blame the vagaries of travel in a foreign city. Do you intend to kill me?”

“No, of course not,” she said as though she was shocked. “I intend to have you beaten and thrown off the dock. I intend for the water to kill you.”

“Why are you doing this?” He struggled to get free, but the man’s grip was punishing.

“I can’t play with both of you. Two against one isn’t fair.” Rory looked at the men who awaited her signal. “No, I can see that.”

“With Daiki, I just had to blind him with a table knife. I do some of my best work with silverware.” She looked into the distance as if she was seeing it her mind. “It was Yamane who had to do the killing. I can assure you it was a very sad affair. If I could think of a way that he’d have to kill you like that it would be ideal of course, but I’ll bet he wouldn’t do it.

It’s not like they let you euthanize injured lovers. The authorities look the other way for dogs.”

Rory couldn’t keep himself from laughing. Which was weird.

The woman, Amelia, became very serious all of a sudden and it was as if the light went out behind her eyes. “What?” she demanded.

“Don’t expect the same kind of reaction you got with Daiki. I’m not even his boy toy.

I’m just a fan who slept on his floor last night.” 40 Z. A. Maxfield

“Sure you are.” She nodded to her men. “Well, buh-bye then.” She turned away. Rory saw her take the cell phone from her purse as she walked to her car. He could see she’d already completely moved on.

* * * * *

A police detective followed the floor nurse into the room and quietly asked Yamane if he felt up to talking.

Yamane answered, “Yes,” automatically polite, whether he felt like it or not. He guessed he had inherited some of the Japanese determination to view civic duty as a spiritual ideal. He smiled, thinking of Rory and his resolve to remove trash and cigarette butts from the street.

The policeman, a Detective Jenkins, began by asking him a few questions regarding the incident and inquired into his plans for his future security. Yamane answered all his questions honestly, even if they seemed redundant. In the end, he had to admit this didn’t make him feel very safe.

“Odd, isn’t it?” he said. “How your names are so similar.”

“Our names?” asked Jenkins. “What names?”

“You and Detective Jenks who was here earlier. He took my friend Rory to the station for questioning. I think he felt Rory could be an accomplice, but the more I think about it, the more I reject it entirely.”

“Detective Jenks,” said Jenkins. “You’re sure about that?”

“Yes. The nurse was here; she would know. Ask her. It was Detective Jenks; I’m sure of it.”

“Okay, I will,” said Jenkins. “And this detective, he took your friend for questioning?”

“Yes,” said Yamane, whose hand and head were throbbing. “I just said that, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” said Jenkins. “The thing is, sir, there’s not a single Jenks that I know of connected to our department. Not one.”

Drawn Together

41

Chapter Seven

By the time the two men hired to beat Rory senseless and throw him into the murky water began, he was already pretty convinced he would die right there at their hands. The first punch one of them threw was so impossibly hard he knew if he had more than the vile hospital coffee in his stomach, he would have lost it on the spot.

After a minute or two, as they threw him back and forth, taking turns slamming meaty fists into his head and chest, he became almost detached. He felt like he was floating above the scene, as though disconnected from it. His only hope, the only chance he had, was to go down, stay down, and pretend he was already dead. If they threw him in the water unconscious, it would surely be all over for him.

Rory hit the ground hard, face-first. He just lay there with an arm thrown out carelessly, hoping to hide his face.

One of the men said, “Suppose that did it?”

“Kick him,” said the other.

Rory steeled himself for a punishing blow. Sure enough, the kick to his ribs was enough to make him want to cry out. Since his whole life depended on silence, he was silent.

“Do it again,” said the first guy. “I didn’t see him move, but…”

“Okay,” said the second, this time delivering a kick to his ribs so hard Rory felt them crack and hoped they didn’t puncture something. Tears began to run from his eyes, but he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, and the men didn’t detect he was still conscious.

“He’s done,” said one.

“Kind of disappointing, if you ask me, big guy like that.” said the other, who picked Rory up off the ground by the legs while the first took him by the arms.

42 Z. A. Maxfield

Rory’s plan had been a good one, but he didn’t count on the tremendous waves of pain he would experience when the two men picked up his broken body and carried him to the end of one of the docks. A sickening, dizzying sensation overcame him, and he slid into darkness.

* * * * *

In his private, guarded hospital room, Yamane was inconsolable. The more agitated he became, the more pain he was in. At last the doctor ordered sedation. Detective Jenkins stayed by his side, talking quietly.

“We’ve done everything we can, sir. I’m asking you to be patient. These things take time. We’ve got pictures of this Jenks -- taken from the security cameras in the parking garage -- circulating. We received the information your agent sent us from Japan, and someone is currently contacting the institution and the authorities in Northern California for information. We don’t even know if they mean him any harm. Please try to calm yourself.

Getting upset solves nothing. Is there anything, anything at all you can think of that you haven’t told us?”

“I’ve been thinking and thinking,” snapped Yamane. “At the time, it just didn’t occur to me. Why would it? He knew about the investigation. He told us about the room service waiter being found --”

“What?” asked Jenkins, who seemed suddenly alert.

“He said the room service waiter was found tied up in a linen closet with a head wound.”

“When was this exactly?” Detective Jenkins took out his BlackBerry.

“I don’t know, earlier, just before he took Rory. He said… He made me think that Rory was an accomplice.” Yamane rubbed his eyes with his good hand. “I knew he was wrong, but just for a moment, I doubted… That’s the last thing Rory saw. Shit.” Yamane hated himself.

“I’m sure that he understands that we all have doubts every now and then,” Jenkins said gently, and Yamane sniffed. “Now is not the time, though, sir. Let’s hold off on thinking the worst. We’ve got people working on the tapes from the parking garage. If his car was parked in there, we’ll eventually get something. As a matter of fact, we didn’t find the missing waiter till well after he told you about it. I think we’ve found our inside man.” He used his BlackBerry to send a text message. “I shouldn’t be using this in here. I’ve got to go outside and make some calls.”

Yamane was beginning to feel the effects of the sedative on his limbs. His legs were feeling heavier, and his arms tingled with a rubbery sensation. It wasn’t a bad feeling to let go for a while, so he let himself drift.

* * * * *

Drawn Together

43

Rory hit the water with barely a splash. In his mind, which seemed very far away from his physical body, he knew the cool liquid felt good against his skin, except where the salt burned. He floated and drifted, down and away from the dock, for what seemed like an eternity. His limbs had no strength, his will was gone, and it was pleasant and peaceful to descend into the inky green coolness of the water.

Something drifted by his hand, seaweed probably, brushing against it. It reminded him of that morning, before all the chaos, when he’d wrapped Yamane’s silky black hair around his fist and gazed at him in that moment between sleep and wakefulness when Yamane being a man didn’t seem all that important.

Something unfinished nagged at him, skittering away when he tried to comprehend it.

Yamane wasn’t the first man he’d looked at that way. Yamane, the imaginary woman Yamane, was a dream he’d chased for so long, someone he had waited for, and he’d let other chances, other attractions, slip by without exploring them. He willed his eyes to open. He could see nothing but the watery darkness surrounding him. Some instinct, some purely animal drive, made him push himself to think clearly. Before he could panic, he saw the shimmering sunlight on the water. It seemed a long way away. He pushed toward it, praying his hardest that the two men who threw him in wouldn’t be waiting for him when he broke the surface.

He finally felt the air on his face and sucked it into his lungs as quietly as physically possible. When he’d satisfied his body’s need, he looked around. He found himself behind a large fishing boat named The Lucky Player, which was tied to the dock and had, on the end of a towrope, a small inflatable dinghy. He swam to the smaller boat and put his arms over the sides, resting his tired limbs. He wasn’t too far away from a dock, but he couldn’t tell which one of them he had been thrown from. Taking the chance of being killed by someone after he’d survived the last ordeal was not an option. Rory heaved his body into the dinghy and just lay there, floating in and out of frightening dreams for a time.