Lee had agreed to return to his place and sack out. She had fixed him a wonderful meal, the first of its kind to be made in the place in quite some time. They had talked for quite a while, and he had fallen asleep. He woke up in his bed, to look upon the face of an angel. He didn’t remember getting undressed or moving in here. He didn’t remember her getting in bed with him. He hoped there was nothing else that he missed. He wore a pair of his sweats and a holey old t-shirt. It looked like she made do with a shirt that had a little more fabric to it. He watched her sleep for quite a while. How long he couldn’t say.
Eventually she woke up and smiled. “Morning Detective Winston.”
“Morning Doctor McDowell. Sorry I pooped out on you last night. I must be getting old, to be such poor company.” He sat up. His muscles protested a little, but it wasn’t as bad as yesterday. He’d always been a fast healer.
“No, you weren’t that bad.” She sat up too and winced.
“You okay?” He said, worried.
She nodded her head. “Yes, I’m fine. Just slept wrong I think”
“You need anything?”
“It’s okay, I’m fine really.” She got out of bed and walked to his bathroom.
“Yes. Yes you are.” He muttered under his breath.
She heard it, but let it go. She really was in a fair amount of pain. Her back was always more than a little sensitive and practically carrying him to bed last night had caused a flair up. She cut on the shower and after a short time steam filled the white tiled room. She was in there for quite a while and when she came out and dressed her back wasn’t any better. She went into the living room and saw Lee cooking in the kitchen. He whistled while he worked. She sat on the couch and watched.
“Feel any better?” He called from the stove.
“No not really. The shower helped a little but my back’s a wreck.” She lay back and tried to get comfortable.
He came in and looked down at her. As beautiful as she was she did look like she was hurting bad. He sat a plate of scrambled eggs and a cup of coffee down on the emd table beside the couch. “I don’t really keep any pain meds…” He stopped. “Oh wait.” He went into the bedroom and retrieved the brown bottle that the doc had given him. He came back and shook one out onto his palm. “Here. Take one of these and call in sick.”
She sat up and took the caplet in her hand. She put it on her tongue and downed it with a sip of coffee.
“Good. Now eat those eggs and I’ll get a phone so you can let them know you’re taking a sick day.”
She lifted the plate and began to eat slowly.
He was in the kitchen retrieving the handset when he heard the crash. He ran back in the living room and saw Sara thrashing wildly on the floor. White specks of foam were forming on her lips. Her eyes were rolled back in her head. Thinking quickly he dialed nine one one and managed to remain somewhat coherent. He moved the furniture away from her and held her while he waited for the ambulance to arrive. By the time they got there she was cold, so cold and he was weeping quietly.
The ambulance ride was a blur. She wasn’t dead after all, but the prognosis wasn’t good. She died twice on her way to the hospital, her heart stopping only to come back after being stimulated, once by CPR and the second time by a portable defibrillator. Once they arrived, he followed until he was waved off.
He sat in one of the many blue plastic chairs that seemed designed to keep its occupant awake through pain for what seemed like years. Finally he couldn’t stand it any longer and stood. He found someone who looked like a doctor. She turned out to be a first year intern and he scared her out of her wits, flashing his badge and acting terribly. He thought he might have even cussed her out, but he wasn’t sure. Nothing seemed real.
Finally a brunette who looked to be in her late fifties approached him. She wore scrubs and a white coat. “Detective Winston? I’m Doctor Jolson, Emergency Room chief. Come with me and we’ll talk.”
He followed her to a room away from the bustle. “Is she alright? Just tell me that.”
She gestured to a chair and sat. “Well she’s alive. It will take some time before we know the extent of the damage to her organs and possibly her brain. The pills you gave us are of unknown origin.”
He slammed his fist on the table. “Bullshit. One of your doctors gave me that bottle.”
Jolson didn’t flinch. “I understand that. You told the EMt that Doctor Oslow gave you those pills. We’ve paged him and so far haven’t received an answer. I find it unlikely that Doctor Oslow would have given you anything unmarked, much less something harmful. But unlikely doesn’t mean impossible.”
Lee stood up. “Well you need to work a little harder to find him. Those pills were intended for me, god damn it. He’s gonna face attempted murder at the very least and you don’t want that in your facility I’m sure.”
“You’re right, we don’t. And when I said that they were of unknown origin I didn’t really mean that we don’t know who gave them to you. What I meant was we don’t know what they are. Preliminary tests don’t reveal any known toxins. We’re not set up with enough equipment to do a full analysis, but neither it nor Doctor McDowell’s blood reveal anything useful for treatment. All we can do for now is keep her alive and I’m not sure how long we can do that.”
Lee walked to the swinging door and looked back. “Fine. You do your job and I’ll do mine. I’ll find out who’s trying to kill me. You keep her alive and find your doctor. Call me with any changes.” He hit the door and kept going. Action. Duty. Those things would keep him from going batshit insane while the woman he loves lay here dying.
He popped out his cell. It rang twice. “Chief DeWitt.”
“Paulie. Lee. Anything new on the Owen case?” His words were clipped.
“Well we haven’t found York yet. None of the crime scenes have given up any evidence of a second person so we still like him for all four murders.”
Lee hated to disagree with evidence. It was his lifeblood, but it didn’t make sense. Still if he didn’t do it then he probably had some answers. That is if he wasn’t lying dead somewhere himself. “Well I have a feeling that whoever did do this also tried to kill me.”
“Yes, I heard about what happened this morning. Look Lee, you need to stand down. I understand that you’re angry. I appreciate the work you’ve put into this. It’s in other hands now though. We’re working some leads. Let us do this.”
“No.” Lee snapped. “Not just no, but Hell no. Someone tried to kill me. Someone tried to take the kid from my custody, posed as an FBI agent for Christ’s sake. All this was going to go into my report, but now this shit is personal. I’ll find out who did this and you can clean up the mess.”
Chief DeWitt started to protest but Lee snapped his phone shut. There was no way he could trust Paulie. The FBI badge had been a damn fine counterfeit. The timing on the preacher and the two cops and the way they were killed seemed to be more the style of the man that held it. And now using a doctor to try and kill him, well there was no way that was Matt York. A person that could do even the few things that had been done yesterday and do it in such an invisible, brutal, and efficient way could also infiltrate the police. There was also the little matter of Owen himself having greased a few palms in the PD while he was alive.
So he was on his own and in a hurry. He needed to find Matt York. Find Matt and he felt pretty sure that he’d find the big blond. He called the church.
“Westridge Christian Church, how may I help you?” came the voice of a young lady.
“Yes ma’am, this is Detective Jackson with the police department.” He gave the name of a man in another precinct. “I apologize for the inconvenience during this most difficult time, but I need to ask you a few questions.”
“Of course detective. Anything I can do to help.”
“Who’m I speaking with ma’am?”
“Lisa. Lisa Goldman. I’m the church secretary.”
Lee continued. “Well Ms. Goldman, I’m looking for anyone that Matt York may be reaching out to right now, next of kin, female friends, anyone that you could think of.”
He could hear the woman hesitating. “Well Detective Jackson, we did give as much information as we conceivably could, all legal matters considered, to the officers that were hear yesterday. I’m afraid that there’s not much I can help you with. Perhaps you could speak to them.”
“Yes Ms. Goldman, believe me I understand completely. Myself, I don’t believe that Mr. York has done anything that he’s been charged with, but that’s not why I’m calling. We have reason to believe that his life is in danger. And the person who is after him, the person responsible for what happened to your good pastor, may also be seeking out those Matt is close to, intending them harm. So you see Ms. Goldman this is a matter of some urgency.” He heard pages flipping.
“Oh. Oh my goodness. Well that does change things a bit. I can’t see any reason not to at least give you Matt’s foster Mom’s address. She’s the only family he has that we know of.” She read an address to him that was a good sixty or so miles from here.
“Thanks ma’am. I greatly appreciate it.” He hung up thinking to himself that that was a little too easy. Of course there was no guarantee that Matt was there or that he’d learn anything useful, but talking to her might give him some insight into Matt and who he was. At this point Lee didn’t have anything. He walked out into the cool afternoon and hailed a taxi.
