Sleep Don't Come Easy (20 page)
Read Sleep Don't Come Easy Online
Authors: Victor McGlothin
Eleven
B
efore Vera exited the Leftovers diner with the incident report, she thanked Linda Klaus, promised to bust her philanderer of a husband then celebrate once they'd tarred and feathered his bony behind like Linda always wanted. They decided it was Vera's job to bring the feathers. It didn't matter how much Vera's business threatened to grow, she would always make time for cheating husbands. She was still laughing about the restaurant manager's penchant for getting even when she hopped into The Silver Streak with that golden nugget of information in her pocket, but she didn't expect to find any laughter on her next stop.
efore Vera exited the Leftovers diner with the incident report, she thanked Linda Klaus, promised to bust her philanderer of a husband then celebrate once they'd tarred and feathered his bony behind like Linda always wanted. They decided it was Vera's job to bring the feathers. It didn't matter how much Vera's business threatened to grow, she would always make time for cheating husbands. She was still laughing about the restaurant manager's penchant for getting even when she hopped into The Silver Streak with that golden nugget of information in her pocket, but she didn't expect to find any laughter on her next stop.
The clock read five-fifteen when Vera pulled into the parking lot behind Fire House No. 26. The name of the EMT on the two-year-old report read Susie Chow. Vera knew it was correct, because Linda proved to be quite the stickler for doing things by the book. The two-story building didn't seem any larger than most of the older homes in the area, a historical district north of downtown. The light-brown-colored fire station boasted neatly painted darker brown trim and a sizable lawn. A two-ladder fire engine had been backed into a slot on the side of the station. The image of lusty, muscle-bound firemen washing that fire truck, bare-chested and brawny, swept over Vera as she glided past it. What she meant as a private thought came out much louder. “Ooh, it's so long,” she said to herself jokingly before strapping on her game face. “Uh-huh, yes it is.”
“Yes, what is?” someone asked from the other side of a big screen TV in the downstairs common area. Vera stopped in her tracks when the man's voice came out of nowhere. The tanned, dishwater-blond-haired lieutenant raised his head eventually but Vera didn't mind the view from where she stood. His navy slacks gripped at his backside like a glove as he bent over sorting out wires. For a man of at least fifty, he was just as fit as someone half his age.
“Oh, nothing,” Vera sang. “You weren't even supposed to hear that.”
“Hear what?” another man replied, as he stepped out of the oversized kitchen. His broad shoulders and black mustache were solid accessories for his ebony-hued skin. Vera smiled uncomfortably at his developed chest beneath a tight blue pullover.
“Oh, y'all just coming out of every nook and cranny on a sistah,” she teased.
“Can I help you with something, ma'am?” he questioned, when she didn't appear to be offering a reason for what could have easily been misconstrued as loitering.
“I'm Vera Miles, an investigator,” she grunted, clearing her throat. Vera flashed her credentials then an awkward glance at the tall, dark and handsome newcomer. “I'm here to investigate a murder, a two-year-old cold case.” That got the lieutenant's attention. He stepped in front of the grand entertainment center wearing a concerned expression.
“I'll take care of this, Rawls,” he said, subtly ordering the younger black man to make himself scarce. “Ms. Miles, I'm Stewart Wilhort, the lieutenant here. Does this involve any of my men?”
“I certainly hope not. I'm looking for Susie Chow, an ambulance tech, or at least she was when the shooting in question took place.” Vera stood a little taller when she felt the white man's eyes tracing her for all of the wrong reasons. She'd seen them before, curious leers leaning on the side of suspicion. “Well, is she still on staff here or do I need to make a call to locate her latest assignment?” Vera was bluffing. She hadn't planned on calling anyone that she didn't have to, nor was she in the mood to become a casualty in the war on sexism.
“Susie's still on board here,” he informed here. “She should be pulling in soon. Her shift was over fifteen minutes ago. You can have a seat and wait around if you like.”
I know I can
, she wanted to say but didn't. “Thanks, lieutenant, I'll do that,” she offered in the most professional manner possible, considering how he'd glared at her uneasily.
, she wanted to say but didn't. “Thanks, lieutenant, I'll do that,” she offered in the most professional manner possible, considering how he'd glared at her uneasily.
Nearly an hour had passed when the ambulance tech Vera had been waiting on finally arrived. Antsy and growing hungrier by the minute, she decided to facilitate what she called a rolling interview, where she persisted in getting the answers before witnesses had time to cook up new lies to hide old truths. Vera stood directly outside the driver's side door after the ambulance stopped. “Susie Chow,” she huffed with a stiff jaw line to catch the attractive Amerasian woman with a short boyish hair style off guard.
The petite mobile medical unit driver hesitated when she saw Vera's size and serious stance. “What have I screwed up now?” she whined, while stepping down off the running board of her unit.
“I'm an investigator, Vera Miles, and hopefully nothing, unless you try to lie to me,” she assured her plainly. “Lieutenant Wilhort said I'd find you out here.”
“I'm surprised he knows I even exist, unless my dusting isn't to his liking,” said Susie, as she unloaded rolled bandages and other supplies from the storage compartment inside the rear of the truck.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I just met him myself,” Vera said to get the ball rolling. “Men either look over me or look me over a little too closely.”
“Yeah, you do know what I mean.” Susie stuffed dirty gurney pads in a laundry bag then took a seat on the tailgate. “Since you're not here to rag on me, who's in for it?”
“Just tell me what you remember about a Dead on Arrival pickup you made a couple of years ago and I'll be out of your hair in no mo time.”
“You kidding? Two years? That a lot of DOAs to sift through,” Susie huffed.
“There was a shooting near the Leftovers diner on Mockingbird Road. A cop was shot in a robbery.” The paramedic froze. Vera watched her eyes widen then grow dim as she traveled back in time just that fast, so she didn't ease up. “Tell me everything you remember about that pickup, everything.”
“Funny, I've spent just about every second between now and then trying to forget it. I wasn't on the job a week when I got the call, shots fired and a man down. I was supposed to be with another tech but I bitched about getting my feet wet as quickly as possible. My partner sprained his foot the day before and there was my chance. Lieutenant put me with an old fart who didn't like driving. Said he'd sit on his duff to make the rent but never behind a wheel. I ratted on him and in return, I got stuck with a trainee. That guy, who died, he was a cop. And believe you me, that didn't help my situation. Gosh, there was so much blood,” she recalled. “I didn't know a man's body could hold so much blood.”
“Tell me exactly what you did when you initially arrived?” Vera asked, to keep her story moving.
“It was raining like crazy. Visibility was damn near zero and there I was weaving in and out of traffic to get there. Police cars were all over the place. They waved me through. I climbed out of the truck, sprinted out to him and tried to resuscitate. There was so much blood, so much,” she mumbled, still in disbelief.
Vera nodded her head empathetically. “Okay, I'm with you so far. Keep going. Did he say anything while you were working on him?”
“What? That guy didn't have any vitals. He wasn't up to saying anything. Between the cops shouting at me, heavy rain falling and all that blood, there wasn't any way he had a chance in hell of making it. So, me and this trainee who washed out shortly after that, we roped him up and hauled ass back to the county barn.” Susie noticed how Vera's face held a question when it shouldn't have. “I see the way you're looking at me. No, ma'am, he didn't make it. I wasn't sure of too much that night except one thing, that Warren Sikes was dead, deader than most if you ask me. His skin was white and ice cold. The FBI agents saw him when they trapped me at the medical examiner's office. They signed the forms and transferred his body to the morgue and everything. Don't believe me, go and ask them.” Much like Linda, Susie was at a loss as to why the feds wanted information and access to the man's corpse, although she wasn't interested in causing trouble for anyone if she could help it, namely herself. Vera knew how life worked, and how there was always more than enough trouble to go around whether you stirred the pot or not.
With federal agents showing up after a policeman's shooting, a potentially guilty man running towards a death sentence and a desperate need for the right man's touch, Vera made two phone calls. The first one went to Ms. Mineola Roosevelt, her estranged receptionist.
“Hello, Ms. Minnie,” she said calmly, when someone answered from the old woman's end. “This is Vera.”
“That's just who my caller ID said you was,” Minnie sniped.
“I can see you're still mad, but please come in tomorrow so I can attack this case head-on without wondering if I'm missing out on important calls.”
“Ain't nothing to be mad about,” the woman responded matter-of-factly. “Getting attacked from behind is what concerns me.”
Vera almost smiled but she had something else fighting it off. “Don't be like that. I've been running circles around town and I'm still a ways away from knowing what I need to.”
“Oomph, I knew exactly what I needed to the moment that white man wondered in with cow puck on his boots and death in his eyes. I needed to find some other place to be.”
“After all we've been through, I can't count on you being there for me? Ms. Minnie, we're a team. I need you.”
“Vera, you know I love you like my own, but I ain't willing to get killed for nobody. I'd be glad to come back after you done dropped that devil as your client.”
Vera sighed into the telephone, with a hint of apprehension in her voice. “I'm sure we can work out something tomorrow morning. Tell you what, I'll get you some new tires and help get your alternator fixed when this is all over. I have a hunch and should probably go to see the medical examiner this evening, but I'm behind on a lot of personal stuff that's got to be tended to today. Is there something we can do about this? You don't have to worry about . . .” Vera suddenly realized the she'd been the only one carrying the conversation. “Ms. Minnie? Ms. Minnie?”
“You still gonna do business with that white man?” Minnie asked quietly.
“Yes, ma'am.”
Click.
“Hello? Ms. Minnie? Damn!” Vera cussed when she realized her savvy receptionist hung up the phone on her. “Fine with me,” she fussed to herself. “I'll work it out anyway . . . with a plate of Chinese food and a little chocolate-chocolate cake on the side.”
Bubbles floated in a tub of hot water in Vera's master bathroom. She didn't want to climb in alone but the message she left for Bullet at the sports bar hadn't been returned. She couldn't be certain he'd even received it, not with Vendetta on the clock and on his heels. Vera couldn't see how Bullet kept that woman out of his pants. She was shapely and attractive after all, in a strip-club-skanky sort of way that some men liked, although the thought of catching the heebie-jeebies should have made her considerably less appealing. Whichever the reason Bullet kept her in her place, Vera was grateful. She'd have been even more grateful had he returned her call then made his way over to her side of town.
Vera was neck deep in satiny foam when the telephone rang. She reached over the side of her bathtub to answer it. “Hmm, hello,” she said, in a tired and subdued tone.
“I got your message,” Bullet said, with a pregnant pause attached. “And I was wondering if you wouldn't mind some company.”
“Yeah, that'd be all right with me,” Vera cooed sensually. “I could use some attention, use something else too, and then you could kiss me all over.”
Bullet chuckled while considering that entire scenario. “Sounds kinda nice, but what do I get for my troubles?”
“To see it happen,” she answered, in a breathy whisper.
“I do like to leave the lights on and watch. Can I use my key? Good. I'll be right there.”
Just as Vera closed her eyes, she heard footsteps coming her way. There wasn't any time to reach the gun in her purse or the one she kept in the lettuce crisper of her refrigerator. Her heart raced as she picked up the phone to call Bullet. “Pick up, please pick up,” she panted. “Bullet! Bullet!”
“I'm putting some wine on ice,” he hollered from her bedroom.
Now more aggravated than afraid, Vera shouted his name at the top of her lungs. “Buuuullet!”
He stuck his head into the bathroom, as if he hadn't just scared the living daylight out of her. “Baby, what's wrong?” After noticing that she was breathing fire, he realized an explanation was in order. “I was talking to you from the driveway the whole time. I thought it'd be kinda funny to surprise you.”
“Well, it wasn't. You scared me. I didn't know who was all up and through my house. I could have shot you, Negro!”
“It ain't too late,” he joked. “You want to shoot me in the bathtub or on the bed?”
“You just wait, I'm a get you,” she grunted furiously.
“That's why I'm here, baby. I'm a get you too,” he replied, oblivious to the drama he'd just caused her. She was into Rags's case much deeper than she wanted to be. Dead cops, black stick-up men, FBI, puddles of blood and God knows what else convinced Vera that she had better get to the bottom of it but quick. However, there wasn't anyone to interview tonight so she eased back down under the bubbles and smiled. There was six feet, two-hundred-thirty pounds of grown man putting wine on ice in her bedroom. Tomorrow would take care of itself she reasoned. She'd managed to get the night to working on her behalf.
Other books
JACE (Lane Brothers Book 3) by Kristina Weaver
Perfect Hatred by Leighton Gage
Morningside Fall by Jay Posey
Hard Drive to Short by Matt Christopher
The Mystery of Rio by Alberto Mussa, Alex Ladd
Sharpe's Havoc by Cornwell, Bernard
Adventures with Max and Louise by Ellyn Oaksmith
Hunted: BookShots by James Patterson
The Cat Sitter’s Cradle by Blaize, John Clement
The Dressmaker by Rosalie Ham