Blue Macabre Page 18

  The elevator opened onto a white corridor. Stepping out, his mind zipped and clicked, surveying and calculating. He drifted toward the nurses’ station, absorbing all details, categorizing and filing. An overweight woman in a tight uniform noticed him. “Can I help you?”

  “I hope so. WHERE is maternity?”

  She wrenched her mouth, her lipstick an unhappy curve. “One of these days I’m going to tell those girls downstairs exactly what’s what.” She launched a tirade of which floor held what, and added a scathing discourse on the hospital’s visiting hours. He obediently nodded, paying rapt attention. When she’d finished he thanked her and headed back toward the elevators. As he pushed DOWN he glanced back – she had buried her nose in paperwork. Quickly he turned out of her line of sight. He walked through the quiet corridor and counted door numbers, watching for the one given him by the receptionist. He paused as he heard voices coming from an open door, just ahead.

  Chris saw Andy as he stepped out of the room and into the corridor. He held his uniform hat in his hand and turned to pull the door closed behind him.

  The elevators were now behind Chris. The chime for an arriving car sounded in response to his earlier request.

  He immediately ducked into the open doorway to his left and pressed himself against the wall. Andy passed by and stood in front of the elevator bank. The door opened for him and he stepped inside without turning around, placing his hat on his head. Chris watched the doors whisk shut. He let out the breath he’d been holding and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes.

  He stepped back into the corridor, glanced the way of the nurse, and went to the door he’d seen Andy come out.

  He saw Delbert in bed, eyes closed. Silently he drew the drapes across the windows, watching for anyone approaching. He then placed his hands on the side of the monitor to which the old man was hooked. It discontinued its audible bleeps, the scribbling line still up and down but mute. Delbert stirred and opened his eyes.

  Seeing Chris, Delbert sucked in his breath and grabbed his bed rails. His body stiffened as Chris’s blue eyes riveted his stare; his mouth formed a circle but no voice escaped. A yellow stain blossomed on the sheets covering him.

  Chris slowly waved goodbye.

  As Delbert lay helpless, Chris placed his palm on top of the old man’s chest. The assaulted heart froze in its tracks and Delbert’s eyes fixed wide in terror. The monitor continued an uneventful course. Chris’s connection with it programmed a convenient display of Delbert’s normal heart rate – alive or dead. Chris paused until he thought brain activity had also ceased. As he withdrew his hand from the old man’s chest he reached out and gently closed the gaping eyelids. Tucking the sheet up under Delbert’s chin, he left the room without opening the curtains.

  About the time Chris entered the lobby, a faint white glow surrounded Delbert’s heart monitor. It immediately began screaming alarm and the station nurse called for assistance and dashed into his room. Dr. Harper arrived with emergency equipment and they were able to revive the old man.

  Dr. Harper was fascinated by Delbert’s awestruck account of seeing a bright white light in his room, and a woman.

  A couple of pieces of cracked glass fell from the wedding photo.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Two weeks later early summer rain pattered against the window as Andy sat at his desk. Near midnight the post was mostly deserted, the occasional blare of the dispatcher’s radio the only interruption of the silence. He stared vacantly at the dark patch of water-rippled glass with unfocused eyes.

  Neatly spread across the desk was his nemesis. Sally Todd’s file, Dave’s accident report, Delbert’s statements and wreck summary. Across the top of them all lay copies of Jenny’s electric bills from the last two years.

  The old meter reader had inadvertently supplied some interesting pieces of this particular puzzle. Andy had made a connection amongst Chris, a specific time frame, and three electrically enhanced occurrences. Delbert had strengthened the connection by adding his knowledge of the unusual electrical usage at the Rawlins’. He’d reviewed the facts repetitiously – Sally’s electrical sufferings, the identification of her and Chris by the grocery clerk, the fact of his best friend’s death in an electrically defunct car. Delbert James’ close call, occurring immediately after an unsettling encounter with Chris. And the electric bills – for two years running Jenny’s utility cost was normal for the area and the houses, and then suddenly skyrocketed – after Chris arrived. But why?

  He spent the next thirty minutes scribbling notes and thoughts. Chris’s name was prominent among the writings, but the catalyst just wasn’t showing itself. He later turned his chair to face the window again, and regarded the rain, silent and still. Some time later he picked up the phone and dialed his home. Jenny’s sleepy voice answered. “Andy?”

  “Hi, babe, sorry to wake you. I just forgot to tell you something.”

  “What? Is anything wrong?” She yawned into the phone.

  He smiled. “I just wanted to say I love you.”

  “Oh. Love you too. Coming home?”

  “You bet. Be there soon.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  He swiveled his chair to face the desk, gathering the photos and papers and putting them away. Earlier that shift his sergeant had called him into his office and they’d discussed Andy’s urgent need for some kind of closure regarding his friend’s death, especially since the investigation seemed to dead end. All of Andy’s co-workers had grown concerned about him. The sergeant reluctantly told Andy his normally perfect work record had been slipping a little, that they felt he was unable to give full concentration full time. In their line of work, slippage often proved fatal. The sergeant proposed that Andy accept a temporary position recently available in eastern Washington. They’d discussed that the change of venue might prove healing, the different work of interest, the meeting of new people therapeutic. Another of the troopers here would take over the investigation and perhaps find a fresh perspective. Andy agreed and promised his sergeant he’d come back to himself.

  For the first time since Dave crossed over Andy felt the tension ease, some tiny glimmers of peace. He was to leave within forty-eight hours. The sergeant had arranged temporary housing and other details of living. He was taking Jenny with him.

  He arrived home around one in the morning. Jenny’s place was dark and still. He let Trooper out, and went to his room to check on Jenny. He kissed her cheek and she stirred in her sleep. He left her resting and quietly began to gather things together, preparing the house for closure, winding down from his shift. When he went to bed a couple of hours later, he leaned against his headboard and gazed out the window at her house. He then curled next to her, soothed by the warmth of her body, and fell asleep.

  Trooper slept on the floor beside him, disturbed more than once by unfamiliar noises in the night.

  Chris sipped his first coffee standing at the kitchen sink, watching as his freshly mowed lawn slowly sank beneath gray puddles. Here and there were a few patches of green, but generally the yard’s bushes and flowers appeared to be free-floating. With a sigh he encouraged himself the current weather conditions wouldn’t last forever and focused his attention to his watch as he calculated the time difference between the Eastern and Pacific zones.

  Ten in the morning at the firm, the familiar voice of the receptionist brightened as she recognized his voice. “Mr. Rawlins! It’s great to hear from you! How are you? Wonderful. Just a moment, let me put you through to Mr. Edwards. He’ll be delighted.” After a pause and a couple of clicks he heard the southern drawl of his associate. “Chris – thanks for calling. I hope everything is alright? Are you feeling better?”

  “Good morning, Lee, yes, I’m feeling some better. I just thought I’d check in. How’s life back there in the fast lane?”

  “Can’t complain, my friend. We’ve missed you around here though. Clients are whining. When can we hope to have you back?”

  Chris laughed. “O
f course I love hearing I’m missed. But I know you can get along just fine without me.” His associate chuckled a protest. “The reason I’m calling – would it be acceptable if I were to extend my leave? My sister is getting married and going away for awhile, and I’d really like to stay here and house sit. I know I’ve been gone quite some time, but I still have issues to work out. In fact – I want you to think about buying me out, easy terms of course.”

  “Damn. I KNEW that was coming!” Lee Edwards laughed. “Oh well . . . we’ll work out the details, Chris. I owe you hugely for helping make this firm so successful. Take care of your sister and yourself, my friend. We’ll get back in touch soon, and call if you need anything in the interim. Okay?”

  “You bet, Lee. And – thanks.”

  Chris and Karin stood beside Jenny’s vehicle as she finished packing the last of her things. Andy was securing a tarp over the contents of the bed of his truck. Trooper sat in the front seat, wiping haphazard patterns of wet dog nose inside the passenger window. “Is that it, Jen?” called Andy.

  “I think so,” she called back. She came to Chris and hugged him tightly. “I’ll call you when we get there.” She looked up into his handsome face and kissed his cheek. “I’m so happy I can leave everything in your care with no worries. Thanks for looking out for the house and for my friend – you two seem to be getting pretty close.” She smiled at Karin.

  He grinned and hugged her again. “Don’t worry about anything, Jen. We’ll be fine, your houses will too. You two go and get everything sorted out.” He tried to make his face appear a little sad for her benefit.

  Andy came over and shook Chris’s hand and gave Karin a parting hug. “Take care. We’ll be in Yakima tonight.” He put his arm around Jenny. “Time to get on the road, dear. You following me?”

  “The rest of my life,” she laughed. She grabbed Karin and hugged her. Take care of Becca for me until I can come for her.”

  “No problem, Jen. She’s safe!”

  The two watched as the other two drove away.

  Rebecca sat beneath the shrubs near the back door, crouched so tightly she seemed to be without legs, simply a body and a head.

  Later that evening, he and Karin were nestled on the sofa watching TV. The phone rang and startled him. “Hello?” His sister and Andy hadn’t called in.

  “Chris?”

  He paused for an instant, and muted the TV. “Suzanne! I was expecting it to be Jenny! How are you?”

  “I’m fine, and so is the baby! In fact, that’s why I’m calling.” She was excited, a bit breathless. “You were right, Chris. She’s beautiful.”

  He was genuinely pleased for her. He welcomed the glowing, maternal feelings that flowed through the phone line. “That’s wonderful – told you so. But I thought you were going to call us? Wasn’t Jen supposed to be there with you to be your coach?”

  “That’s right. But last week I was having a little trouble, and after my doctor did a few tests he decided to do a C-section right away. I wasn’t too thrilled – it all happened so fast! I barely had time to call my folks, and by the time I realized I’d not called Jen, it was all over.”

  “The important things is that you are both okay. We’re so pleased for you! I don’t even know – did you know that Andy and Jen left for Yakima?”

  “Yes. She did tell me, and told me about getting married. I’m so happy for them. With all that happened she was afraid she’d miss out helping me, but it all turned out fine and my mom was here. Did they actually leave today?”

  “Yes. In fact I thought this call might be them.”

  “Well, when she does call in, remind her to call me too.” She gave him her numbers – work, home, and cell – but he did not write them down.

  He smiled his little crooked half-grin. “I promise. I’m sure she’ll be in touch soon.” Karin reached for her beer and snuggled up to him. “She had the baby?”

  “Yeah, a girl. Everything went well.” He looked at her and smiled. “By the way, do you know how babies are made?”

  As she hung up, Suzanne checked on the tiny bundle in the bassinette. The baby rested contentedly. The new mother sat down on her own bed and looked at the phone. “Hmmmm,” she said. “Wonder why I suddenly feel so drained?” She lay back against her pillows, careful with her incisions. “Maybe it’s the energy loss up there from Jen and Andy leaving.”

  She lay awake thinking for quite some time.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Eight weeks after Chris had bound her to Jenny’s bed, Karin lay in her own bed in the loft. In the early summer morning the drone of the lawn mower stirred her out of a restless sleep. She sat up in bed, tiny beads of sweat at her hairline. She frowned as she kicked off the covers. Stumbling to her feet, she dashed downstairs to the bathroom and fell to her knees in front of the toilet. Water and vomit splattered her face.

  As she hung her head and reached to flush she retched miserably, dry heaves, gasping and coughing. She bent double with the effort, her face nearly touching the water in the bowl. Finally she collapsed to the floor, and wiped her eyes and face with a corner of a nearby towel. Scooting toward the tub, she grasped it weakly and tried to stand.

  Wetting a washcloth with cool water, she applied the compress to her face. She studied herself in the mirror as she ran her fingers through her hair. In the morning light her green eyes seemed softly blue, ringed by dark circles. She was pale and sweaty. She quickly dropped to her knees by the toilet for round two.

  The clatter of the mower rose and fell as Chris moved back and forth across the yard. Karin glanced up at the tiny bathroom window; although it was open and she called his name, the mower drowned out all other sounds. Pulling herself up by grasping the tub again, she staggered into the hall and dragged herself to the sofa where she collapsed. The cat jumped from one of the dining chairs and trotted over, meowing and then settling next to her.

  The doors of the house were open to their screens. The whine of the mower stopped and the sudden silence seemed large. As she lay on the couch she heard footfalls on the deck. When Chris came in the nearest door she mumbled a greeting.

  He came to her and kneeled, feeling her forehead. “What’s wrong? You look awful.” The cat curled into a tight ball beside her.

  She sighed, closing her eyes unevenly. “Oh man, I am so green. Woke up throwing up. Guess I’ve got the flu or something.” A tear trickled down her cheek as she rested her head on the arm of the couch.

  “Poor baby,” he soothed. He smoothed her damp hair away from her face. “Let me fix you some warm tea and toast.” She closed her eyes as he walked away and soon returned with a pillow and a throw. He covered her up. “What else can I get you?” He looked at the cat with disgust. “Want me to put her out?”

  Her hand shook as she reached to pet Rebecca. “No, that’s okay. This silly cat always comes to sit with you when you feel bad. Suzanne said she was empathic – I think that means she has sympathy or something?”

  “It means she feels your pain.”

  “Oh.” She lay back, the whites of her eyes showing. “Better bring me something I can puke in. Hurry!” He fetched a clean bucket from the pantry and set it on the floor beside her. She lay on the sofa as he prepared tea and toast. When he returned with her cup and plate, she clutched the warm mug in her hands. “I’m not sure if this is gonna stay down.”

  He felt her forehead and cheeks again, his face concerned and caring. “Do you think it was something you ate?”

  not

  She set the mug down and grabbed the bucket. He cringed as she vomited a small brown puddle. The cat stayed fast to her side. “I dunno,” she finally answered with a cough. “I just know I’m sicker than shit.” She was pallid and clammy and his own stomach became queasy as her nauseous feelings washed over him. Mentally he fumbled to gain some control.

  “Try the toast,” he said as he calmed himself. He channeled her thoughts and feelings so that they diverted and dissipated, as a boat furrows through water. />
  She nibbled a piece of the dry toast. The cat relaxed a little and curled up at the other end of the couch resting, her eyes narrow slits. She’d adopted Karin since she’d lost Jenny.

  Chris picked up the phone and called the grocery to tell them she was ill.

  By mid-afternoon he’d put her back to bed. During the course of the day she’d thrown up several times more, and finally became so drawn and haggard he insisted she try to keep some chicken broth down by really resting. After he tucked her in she was out of it within minutes, drained. The cat planted herself on the bed as well. When he tried to shoo her off she swiped him a nasty scratch and stood her ground.

  In the kitchen, he thumbed through the Longview phone book. He pressed his finger to mark a number and dialed. A well-rehearsed feminine voice answered, “Good afternoon, Doctors Harper and Simmons.”