5 Windy City Hunter (21 page)

Detective Malloy looked at the officer standing next to him. The officer quickly said, “I’m on it,” and he left the room.

“They have the necklace,” I said.

“No, the police have the necklace,” Jack said. “You already know that.”

“You gave them a copy,” I said. “Mrs. Fisher had a copy made, and then gave it to you as a pretense that the necklace was out of her possession. She had it hidden in a secret compartment in her dressing table.”

“Did Mark tell you that’s where he found the necklace?” Detective Malloy asked.

I fidgeted for a second and looked Jack’s way. He gave me a slight frown and a shake of his head. I knew he didn’t want me to say anything that would further drag me into this mess.

“Between him and Martha, I think I found out everything,” I told him.

Detective Bentley said, “Susan, when we came back to the condo, and you weren’t here, we couldn’t imagine where you could have gone. Terry and Emma said you had been down to talk with them for a while, but then you went back upstairs and never left the building.”

“We finally found your notes on the coffee table in the condo,” said Jack. “They were eye-opening for sure. We had the super let us into Martha’s condo, but it was obvious she had already cleared out. When we found all the blood in her bedroom, we didn’t know what to think.”

Detective Bentley took over, “When we came back up here, the super was letting two police officers into Mrs. Fisher’s condo. I showed my badge and told them who I was. They said they had a tip that an armed man wearing a gorilla mask was holding Wes Bradley hostage in one of Mrs. Fisher’s bedrooms. That was confusing because your notes said Wes Bradley was the killer.”

Jack let out a bit of a laugh and started shaking his head. “Susan, you’re not going to believe what happened next. All four of us entered the condo. One of the officers went to check the kitchen, while Chuck and I stayed with Trigger Happy over there.” He pointed to the officer seated next to Detective Malloy. The man squirmed in his seat.

“This is Officer Horton,” Detective Malloy told us.

Jack continued, “We stopped outside the bedroom door to listen, but all we could hear was a rhythmic sound. It didn’t sound like anything any of us had ever heard before. Trigger Happy banged on the door and told Wes to come out, but nothing happened, and the sound was still there. The door was locked, so Trigger Happy kicked the door open, and he saw the gun right away.”

“It was at that very second I knew what the sound was,” said Detective Bentley. “This morning, after the incident with Jack, you went into the bathroom and shut the door. You were making that same noise. I only had a split second to fling my arm up under Officer Horton’s arm before he fired the shot. I knew you were laughing uncontrollably inside that gorilla mask.”

Officer Horton looked like he might throw up.

Detective Bentley reached over and placed his hand over mine. “When your head snapped back, I thought he made his mark, Susan.”

Officer Horton said softly, “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“Where did the bullet go?” I asked.

Detective Malloy reached around behind him and pulled the mask out. He stuck his finger through the bullet hole from the back through to the front. It was just a little higher than dead-center on the forehead. My body instantly felt like jelly. If I had heard them at the door a few seconds sooner and lifted my head up to peer out of the eye holes, the bullet would have entered the top of my head. The bullet penetrating the thick rubber and fur of the mask had only snapped my head back against the chair. Detective Bentley’s quick thinking had saved my life.

“Can we do paperwork and statements downtown tomorrow?” Detective Bentley asked Detective Malloy. “I’d like to take Susan over to Jack’s condo.”

“Sure,” he said. “There’s nothing more we can do here right now.”

My legs still felt weak from the shock of knowing I had come so close to being shot, but I didn’t want to stay in Mrs. Fisher’s condo for even one more minute. The three of us left and walked across the hallway.

“What happened at the court hearing today?” I asked as Jack opened the door. “Now that the police know the truth about what happened, can you guys go back and get Darby tonight?”

I stepped into the condo. Darby stood up from the sofa with a big smile on his face and said, “Hi, Sunshine.” He was dressed in the clothes he had worn to the cooking competition, and he was sporting a four-day growth on his face.

I burst into tears. I ran down the steps and threw myself into his arms. He held me tight and buried his face in my neck. I knew my reaction had triggered a few of his own tears. He stroked my hair, and kept saying, “Shhh, shhh, it’s ok,” but I had a hard time regaining control of my emotions.

I finally managed to calm down and sit down on the edge of the sofa. Darby sat down beside me and gently grasped my hands into his. He gazed into my eyes and said, “Susan, from now on, you can tell me anything and everything about anything you want. If a gnat farts in your apartment, and you want to come across the hall to tell me, you go right ahead.”

I smiled through the tears still streaming down my face. My chest heaved with a final few sobs. He put his arm around me and pulled me close again. “I’m really sorry, Susan,” he said.

“Was jail horrible?” I asked. “Are you going to have nightmares? Will you be scarred for life?” My eyes went wide, and I gasped. “Were you assaulted?”

He threw his head back and laughed. I heard Detective Bentley say, “For crying out loud.”

Jack dropped into the chair and said, “You kids are crazy. Let’s get something to eat.”

But I needed to know. I needed to know if this was going to change him. He had been unjustly jailed, and he might need therapy. Maybe the city would have to pay him millions of dollars for falsely accusing him and allowing him to be tortured in jail.

He saw my intense look and said, “Susan, it was county lockup. I watched television and played cards with the locals who were in there for minor possession of drugs and drunk driving – stuff like that.”

My mouth fell open for a moment. Obviously, my imagination was out of control again. I giggled.

“Oh
, no, you don’t,” he said. “No more laughing or crying. Mick will be here before too long, and you smell. Go take a shower and get cleaned up while we figure out what to do about food.”

I grasped my hair and pulled it up to my nose. It smelled like the inside of the gorilla head. It was disgusting. I happily went to retrieve fresh clothing from my suitcase and headed for the bathroom.

I took a long, hot shower, did a fast blow-dry on my hair, and put on just enough makeup to highlight my features. I dressed in a comfortable pair of winter white leggings with a long heather gray sweater. The sweater had a rounded neckline and flared sleeves. Mick liked this outfit, and I was glad I had brought it with me.

It was nearly an hour before I came out of the bathroom, and the three guys were sitting in the living room and laughing. There were a couple of pizzas and several beers opened on the coffee table. Jack stood up to bring a chair in from the dining room, and he promptly sat down in it as he motioned for me to sit next to Darby on the sofa.

Darby was still chuckling as he said, “I guess you had a little excitement this morning.”

“Oh my gosh!” I blurted out. “I can’t believe you guys are talking about that. I don’t want Mick to know what happened. You know how he gets.”

“Oh, no,” Darby said. “There’s no way we’re keeping this from Mick. It’s too funny. And if you don’t tell him, he’ll eventually hear it from someone else, and then it’ll be worse.”

I had to think about it for a minute, but I smiled and said, “It was pretty funny with Chuck in his boxer shorts, Jack in his little whatever, and me dressed like a spinster in flannel.” The guys roared with laughter. “Darby, I couldn’t imagine why you would be spooning me. For as many times as we’ve slept together, we’ve never spooned.”

“Whoa,” said Jack. “You two have slept together before? What’s that all about?”

Before I could shut the conversation down, my phone rang. I had to look around to see where the sound was coming from. Darby reached over and picked my phone up from atop the laptop, which was now on the end table. He handed the phone to me, and I saw it was Mick. I took it to the kitchen to answer.

“Mick, hi!” I said. I couldn’t contain the excitement in my voice.

“Hi, sweetheart, we just landed,” he said. “I’ll be a few minutes getting out of here, but I’ll grab a cab and see you soon. Is everything ok there? What happened with Darby today?”

“Darby is here,” I said, “and everything is ok. Its’s more than ok.”

“Good! You guys can give me the details when I get there,” he said. “I love you, Susan.”

“I love you, too, Mick. I’ll see you -” I didn’t finish my sentence. “Mick, who is Carol Bennington?”

“Carol Bennington? She’s a crusty old woman who’s about 102 years old. She’s Dad’s administrative assistant. She used to be a sergeant in the British Army. You haven’t crossed her, have you, because she’ll chew you up and spit you out,” he said.

My heart soared at hearing his words. I laughed and said, “No, I haven’t. I’ve only heard her name. Hurry up and get here, I can’t wait to see you!”

Back in the living room, I was smiling from ear to ear. For all that had happened in the last six days, everything had worked out, and we were all going to be ok. I plopped down beside Darby and put my head on his shoulder.

“You won $10,000 this weekend,” I said.

He smiled and said, “I sure did. I filled out the forms for any winnings to be directly deposited into my bank account, but I’m going to contact the contest officials tomorrow and find out how I can get that big fake check back. I want to take it home with me.”

I laughed. I knew what he was going to do with it, too. He was going to frame and hang it on the wall in Nate’s side of the apartment. At least that’s what he said before we left home.

I looked at Detective Bentley and asked, “Have you heard how Dee is doing?”

“She’s going to be ok,” he said. “Her condition is stable now. She’s going to need extensive rehab, but she’s going to live.”

I was relieved. “What about Wes? Any news there?”

“Wes will be all right, too,” he said. “His injuries weren’t life threatening, and he’s only looking at a day or two in the hospital.”

I let out a contented sigh. I was starving. The pizza on the table was tempting.

“Darby,” I said, pointing to the end table. “Hand that laptop to me.”

I opened it on my lap and pulled up a search engine. I typed in
Chris De Floss, Actor
. It returned over half a million hits. He was obviously popular. A fan page was one of the first entries, and I clicked the link.

Several pictures came up right away. He was a good looking guy with a charming smile. I scanned the bio section. His name was Christopher De Floss, but he used Chris for the screen. He was no longer an actor, and it appeared the zombie movie was his last role. He was currently successful as a professional poker player on the U.S. circuit.

I had an
aha
moment. I had heard his name and seen his face on television. He played on a couple of the poker shows that run in the middle of the night. Mick hated listening to the clicking and rattling of the chips as the players nervously stacked and restacked them, but I liked watching, spotting tells, and seeing how they played their cards.

Christopher was also an author and had just released a book on how to prepare for the coming zombie apocalypse. I laughed out loud. All the guys looked at me, and I said innocently, “What? I’m reading about the zombie actor.” The movie he starred in must have stirred up a love of zombies, because this was his third book, and he even had a website.

Satisfied, I closed the laptop. I gave in to the pizza and took a big bite out of the largest piece. Christopher De Floss, you may not be starring in any more movies, but I’ll be seeing you in my zombie dreams tonight.

The baby kicked.

###

I want to give a very special thank you to my friend, Christopher De Voss, for allowing me to include a likeness of him in the book. Christopher has recently been published in
Undead Uncensored
, an anthology of zombie stories, and poker truly is one of his passions.

http://chrisdevoss.wordpress.com/

Thank you to my friend, Glenno, a
.k.a. Arnold the Armadillo, for allowing me to portray likenesses of his photographs as the paintings in the book.

http://arnoldthearmadillo.wordpress.com/

Susan and Darby were originally intended to look in on the events unfolding in Zachary Strong’s short story,
The Queen of Diamonds Murder
, but Susan put her nose in the middle of everything and basically took over and made it her own.

Finally, I want to note that
Windy City Hunter
was written in November, 2012, during National Novel Writing Month. It was my first year to participate, and it was a good experience.