Driven to Ink

Chapter 56

I didn’t think I could ever hear that song title again without having a panic attack. I closed my eyes and let the movie play in my head: the car ramming into the light pole, the gunshots, the body slamming into the windshield.

I looked at Tim. “Do you think it was Dan Franklin?”

“Could have been.”

“Why would he have changed into his Dean Martin tux, though?” I asked.

We sat for a few minutes pondering that. It didn’t make any sense.

“Will Parker?” I asked.

“Maybe.”

Or maybe it was someone totally unrelated to anything that had been going on tonight. Some guy with road rage who came after us.

No. It had to have something to do with everything that had been going on the last few days. Someone who felt threatened enough to try to kill Jeff and me.

Which reminded me, “We need to tell Sylvia about Jeff.”

“So what do you propose to do? Go over and wake them up?”

I nodded. “Exactly.”

“Why don’t I get a uniform out there?” Tim said. “Then you don’t have to worry. He’ll tell Sylvia about Jeff and take her to the hospital to be with him.”

The guilt I felt about leaving the hospital came rushing back. “I should be with her,” I argued. “I should tell her, and I should sit with her, waiting for Jeff.”

We were stopped at a light. Tim shifted a little so he was looking at me.

“Is there something more than friendship between you and Jeff Coleman?” he asked.

He was totally serious. While I understood why I had to explain things to Bixby, I shouldn’t have had to explain them to my brother.

“No,” I said. “But I was in that car with him. It could’ve been me.” And as I faced that thought, my whole body began to shake, but I kept going. “He would’ve stayed for me. I know that. He wouldn’t have left.”

Tim took a deep breath. The light changed, and he settled back into his seat and turned on the turn signal. In seconds, he’d spun the Impala around.

“Thanks, Tim,” I said, as I found myself headed back out to Summerlin.

We had to stop at the scene. The road was filled with flashing blue and red lights, white spotlights illuminating the desert as detectives and crime scene investigators combed the ground for any clues.

“They’re trying to re-create what happened out here,” Tim explained. I already knew that; I watch TV.

Tim flashed his badge for the cop who stopped us.

“We’re just heading up the road,” he said. “Guy who got shot-his mother’s in one of those town houses. We can’t reach her by phone, so we’re going to pick her up and take her to the hospital.”

The cop shone his flashlight in my face, and I blinked. “Okay,” he said, although I could tell he wanted to say more. He waved us through.

“He probably wanted me to stick around and re-create the crime,” I said bitterly, spots in front of my eyes because of the flashlight.

“Hate to tell you, Brett, but you’re not off the block yet. Flanigan will go over everything with you again.”

“After he talks to Jeff? To make sure our stories match, right?” I couldn’t keep the anger out of my tone.

“That’s right. It’s his job to get the story straight.” His tone was measured, as if he knew he shouldn’t rile me up even more.

I settled back in my seat and stared at the black sky ahead of us. I always counted on Red Rock for peace of mind, but I wasn’t sure I’d want to drive out this way again anytime soon. Maybe I’d have to check out Lake Mead, over in the total opposite direction. There were some good trails out there, too, although it was farther to go, less convenient if I had to get to work at a reasonable hour.

Maybe I wouldn’t find a body in my trunk when I came home from Lake Mead.

Ray Lucci was the impetus for all of this. What had he done that caused someone to kill him and stuff him in my trunk? That dead rat-Snowball-still nagged at me. I realized we were close now to Rosalie’s complex. I pointed it out, and Tim turned right. Fewer lights than before. I had a hard time distinguishing one area from another and got us lost a couple of times, Tim circling the parking lot.

“Someone’s going to call the cops thinking we’re casing the place,” Tim muttered.

Casing the place? I ignored him, not wanting to banter. I wasn’t in the mood.

Finally, I spotted Rosalie’s place. I recognized Bernie’s white rental car out front.

“How did you not see that the first two times we passed it?” Tim asked.

“We passed it two times?” I honestly hadn’t noticed.

He pulled up behind the white car and cut the engine. I peered out the windshield at the town house. No lights in any windows. Not even a glimmer or a glow.

“It’s not that late,” Tim mused.

I’d lost all track of time, and I could totally do with going to bed right now, so I wasn’t one to speculate on when Sylvia and Rosalie decided to retire.

We got out of the Jeep and went up the steps to the front door. I pushed the doorbell, and we could hear it echoing inside.

We waited.

And waited.

Finally, Tim pushed the doorbell again, and again we could hear it inside.

This time, however, we also heard footsteps. The curtain in the kitchen window next to the door fluttered, then the outside light went on over our heads. We heard the dead bolt unlatch, and the door opened. Rosalie’s head appeared around it.

“Brett?” she asked, her face scrunched up in a frown. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes moved from me to Tim, lingering on him for a second; then she added, “This must be your brother.”

No kidding. But I gave her the benefit of the doubt because she’d been asleep. Her hair was all mussed up, and she had little creases in the side of her face from the pillow.

“We’re looking for Sylvia,” I explained. “There’s been an accident. Jeff…” The words caught in my throat.

The door swung wide now, and Rosalie clutched her white bathrobe around her torso. “An accident?”

I nodded. “Jeff’s in the hospital.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly.

“We need to see Sylvia,” Tim butted in. “She should be at the hospital when Jeff comes out of surgery. We’re going to take her there.”

Rosalie shook her head. “Sylvia’s not here. She and my dad had a big fight. I don’t know what it was all about, they wouldn’t tell me, but they left.”