Helpless

Chapter 51

Tom let out a long, deep breath. “Lange’s dead,” he said in a voice that didn’t disguise his relief.

“What happened to you out there, Tom?”

Tom told Marvin all he could remember—about the phone call from Lange, about scouting Johnny Rockets for a possible ambush, about meeting Lange—but after that, his memories vanished.

“How do you think you got drugged?” asked Marvin.

“I don’t know,” Tom said. “The coffee, maybe. That’s all I drank.”

“But you didn’t see Lange slip anything into your drink.”

“No,” Tom said. “I doubt it was any of the waitstaff. But I can’t be sure. Maybe there was a manager on duty, someone I didn’t see.”

Marvin leaned in close and seemed to study Tom’s face. “That’s a nasty injury you’ve got there,” he said. “Have you seen it?”

“What? No beauty pageants in my future?”

Marvin scrutinized the injury even more intently. “Doesn’t look like it could have come from a car accident,” he said, with his eye inches from Tom’s face. “There’s a pattern to it, too. It looks like… like a star. Do you remember being hit in the face? Punched?”

Tom couldn’t easily shake his head to tell Marvin no.

“Something about it… Do you mind if I snap a picture?”

Tom forced a weak smile. “Don’t post it to Facebook,” he said.

Marvin chuckled and snapped a few pictures with his cell phone. He put his phone away, then picked up Tom’s, which had been resting atop the dresser by the hospital bed.

“I’ve got most of the stuff police recovered from your car in a cardboard box at my office. But I figured you’d want to have your phone by the bed.”

“Yeah, Lange might be calling to cut a deal,” said Tom.

“Not unless you believe in ghosts. They found more of Lange on the light post than they did inside his car.”

“Is it going to be harder to prove Lange was the one framing me now that he’s dead?” asked Tom.

“We don’t know for sure that it even was Lange,” Marvin said. “For all we know, it could have been Murphy working outside the law to make his case against you, or a disgruntled player, a parent even.”

“You don’t really believe that. Do you?” Tom said. “The motive just isn’t there. Lange’s the only one with a real reason to frame me. He wanted what he thought I had. It’s obvious.”

“We’re going to go after any and all witnesses connected to Lange,” Marvin said, trying to sound reassuring. “I’m turning my investigators loose as we speak. Rest assured, I won’t leave a single stone unturned.”

“That’s the way we’re going to beat this rap,” Tom said. “I’m sure of it.”

“Hope you’re right, buddy,” Marvin said. “But something isn’t adding up for me.”

“What isn’t?”

“Lange never made one real extortion attempt. And whoever did this frame job knows his computer chops. I mean, really knows what he’s doing. Computer skills classes in prison are good, but they’re not that good.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking we might not be out of the woods yet. Not by a long shot.”

Tom took another long sip of water and was about to respond to what Marvin had said when his hospital room door opened slowly. A head poked into the room. It took Tom a moment to realize that it was Jill. His face brightened.

“Is it okay to come in?” Jill asked Marvin.

Marvin nodded his head in Tom’s direction. “He looks happy to see you,” the lawyer replied.

“I am happy,” Tom said. “Come give your old man a hug.” Tom lifted his arms to accept an embrace but forgot about his handcuffed wrist. The metal scraped loudly against the bed frame. Jill took a few steps backward, as if she’d been pushed.

“Get that doctor in here, and get these handcuffs off me. Will you, Marvin?” Tom asked. He managed to keep his voice calm despite his embarrassment.

“On it. Excuse me, Jill.” Marvin shot Tom an apologetic look and left the room to go find Prince.

Tom shrugged and hoisted his chained wrist again. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this, Jill,” Tom said. “I’m just glad that you’re here.” Jill kept her distance, but Tom managed to coax her forward a few feet with his unencumbered arm. When he pointed to the chair by his bedside, Jill sat down.

“You look okay,” Jill said. “I mean, considering what could have happened.”

Tom smiled at her. “Yeah, I’m tough. But I’m worried about you. Are you okay?”

Jill broke away from her father’s gaze and began to search for anything else that she could focus on. “I’m fine,” she said in a quiet voice.

Tom couldn’t help but marvel at his daughter. She looked so beautiful to him, grown up and capable. He wanted to tell her that he loved her. He wanted her to know that he’d always be there for her. He didn’t want her to leave the room, however, so he kept those thoughts to himself. They were together, and though neither spoke for several minutes, for Tom it was the best medicine he could receive.

Jill took a quick visual inventory of all the equipment connected to her father: heart monitors, IV drips, and such. “When do you get out of here?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I feel okay. Hopefully soon. How’d that chem test go?”

“My teacher is going to let me take it tomorrow, because of what happened to you and all. In truth I could use the extra study time.”

“Happy to help,” Tom said.

Though it hurt Tom to laugh, he couldn’t resist a chuckle, and neither could Jill.

“Hey, I forgot to ask you about Manadnock. How’d the team do?”

“We beat ’em two–zip. So that was cool.”

“Yeah? Did you play well?”

“I dunno. I did all right, I guess.”

“Come on. Don’t be modest. Did you rock the pitch or not?”

Jill smiled. “Yeah, I rocked it pretty good,” she admitted.

Tom balled his left hand into a fist and raised it up. Jill gave him a fist bump without his having to ask.

“I knew you would.”

“Does it hurt bad?” Jill asked. “It looks like it hurts.”

“It’s not too bad,” he said. “I guess I was pretty lucky.”

“Yeah… well, you’re a lot luckier than Mom.”

“I’m so sorry, Jill,” Tom said. “I wasn’t thinking about the memories this would bring up for you.”

Jill let out a sigh of exasperation as she stood up from her chair. “I don’t think of Mom as a memory. They can’t be memories when I think about her all the time.”

Tom took hold of Jill’s hand, but she recoiled from his touch. “Jill, wait. What I mean—”

“I know what you mean. It’s fine. Honest. Look, I gotta run. We have a game this afternoon. The team already left. Lindsey’s mom is waiting downstairs to drive me there.”

“I’m really glad you two are talking again.”

“Yeah,” Jill said.

“Does that mean you’re willing to believe me?”

“I think so. Look, I had to change my cell phone number.” Jill took out a piece of paper and wrote down the number. Tom gave Jill a skeptical look. “I knew the code the wireless company needed to make changes to our family plan,” Jill explained, unprompted. “If you need me for anything while I’m at the game, just call or text.”

She put the paper on Tom’s nightstand.

“Why don’t you call me right now?” Tom suggested. “That way I’ll have the number in my phone. We still have to do our check-ins, you know. Just because I’m handcuffed to a hospital bed doesn’t mean the same safety rules don’t apply.”

Tom didn’t mention that a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders with Lange’s death. He didn’t want his daughter relaxing her vigilance.

Jill dialed, and Tom heard his phone chirp.

“I’m glad you’re going to be okay,” Jill said. “I’m going to study after the game. But I’ll come early, before school, so we can hang out longer. Okay?”

Tom nodded and squinted his eyes to hide his tears. “Okay. Thanks for being here, Jill.”

“No problem.”

Jill made it halfway to the door but stopped when Tom called her name. Jill turned.

“Will you come home when I get out of here?” Tom asked her. “This is going to turn out to be a big misunderstanding. You’ll see. I promise you that.”

Jill looked down at her feet, and her hands slipped defensively into the pockets of her blue hooded Shilo Wildcats sweatshirt. “Yeah, I think so,” Jill said.

Tom nodded and smiled at her. He could tell that she had more to say about his situation and their future as a family. He couldn’t blame her for avoiding the conflict.

“Bye, baby,” Tom said in whispered voice. Jill smiled back at him weakly and waved. Marvin entered the room just as Jill was leaving. The two exchanged a pleasant good-bye, and Marvin crossed to Tom’s bedside.

“I told Prince to give you two a few minutes alone. That’s why you’re still locked up and nobody’s been in to check on your vitals. In case you were wondering.”

“Thanks, Marvin.”

“I’m all about client satisfaction. Mine’s a referral business, you know.”

Tom grinned, but his expression darkened. “Marvin, I need you to do me a favor.”

“Ask and ye shall receive.”

“Can you have the PI pals of yours keep an eye on Jill until I’m out of here? Just to make sure she keeps safe. You can add it to my tab.”

“Consider it done and gratis. These guys owe me some hours for all the business I’ve sent their way. I’ll write off what they don’t cover.”

“Nice. Never thought I’d be somebody’s charitable contribution.”

“You’re in very good company—American Red Cross, Save the Children…”

Marvin stopped talking, and his expression changed abruptly, making Tom just a little bit concerned. Again, Marvin leaned in close to get a better look at Tom’s face.

“Ten cc’s of morphine for your thoughts,” Tom said.

“It’s that injury to your face,” Marvin said. “It’s still bugging me.”

“Why?”

“It looks like you were hit by somebody wearing a ring,” Marvin said.

“So?”

“So, the imprint looks familiar to me. I can’t figure out why. So while Jill was here, I snuck down to the ER to see if I could make nice with any of the EMTs who were on the scene of the accident. Found one, too. He was pretty sure Lange wasn’t wearing any rings when they pried him off that post.”

“What are you getting at, Marvin?”

“What I’m getting at is that maybe, just maybe, Lange wasn’t working alone.”