The Devil's Right Hand - J. D. Rhoades [51]
“Keller,” she said as she started the car. “That was a really stupid stunt.” He said nothing. She put her hand across the back of the seat and looked back as she backed out. “I mean, I know you’re not real crazy about cops right now.” She put the car in gear and drove off. “And let’s face it, they’re not all that fond of you, either. But that girl could have died while you were trying to do it all yourself.”
“I figured you could handle it,” he said.
She made a face. “Thanks,” she said. “But next time, let’s get together on the decision. Or better yet, leave this kind of thing to the pros, all right?”
Keller shrugged and said nothing. Marie sighed. “I’d like to find that girl who sang about ‘where have all the cowboys gone’ and slap her in her silly face,” she muttered. That made Keller laugh. “Okay,” he said. “You win.”
The cell phone chirred again on the seat between them. Keller looked at Marie. “Maybe you should get that,” he said.
Marie looked at him in amazement. “Why me?”
“Because a man’s voice might cause them to hang up.” He handed her the phone. She shook her head, but flipped it open and put it to her ear. “Hello?” There was a sudden burst of words from whoever was on the other end. Keller couldn’t make out the words or the voice, but he could sense the anger and the threat in the voice even from across the car.
“Whoa, Whoa,” Marie said. “Amber’s not here. She’s, ah, sick.”
Another blast of sound from the phone. Marie’s face reddened. “Listen, you,” she snarled, “this is--” Keller reached out and plucked the phone from her hand. He put it to his ear.
The voice was so deep and raspy that Keller at first didn’t realize it was a woman. “...tell that little cunt if she doesn’t get her lazy ass back to work, I’ll fuck her face up so bad her own Mama won’t want to kiss her. You got that, bitch?”
“I got it,” Keller said. “But I doubt she’ll be much good for work for a few days.”
Silence. Then: “Who the hell are you?”
“A friend of the family,” Keller replied. “Crys--I mean Amber’s in the hospital. She’s at Fayetteville General if you want to...” there was a click and the line went dead. Keller put the phone down.
“You told her where to find the girl,” Marie said. She didn’t sound happy.
“Yeah,” Keller said. “Drop me off at my car. I’ll double back to the hospital and see who shows up.”
“I don’t think I like you using that girl as bait,” Marie said.
“It’s possible that DeWayne might hear about it, Marie. The guy who killed your partner. He might show up there. Then he’s all ours.”
“All yours, you mean.”
“Hell, you can have the collar,” Keller said. “It might get you back in good with the department.”
She shook her head. “I feel like I’m making a deal with the devil.”
“Welcome to my world, Marie.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
They had moved him out of intensive care into a private room. Raymond had overheard an argument over that. Detective Barnes clearly didn’t want to commit the city to paying for a private room. He faced off outside Raymond’s ICU cubicle with some guy from the hospital who refused to put another patient in with a “dangerous criminal”. From this, Raymond surmised that they had matched up the slugs from Leonard Puryear with the ones from the gun found with Raymond. In the end, fear of citizen lawsuits had prevailed and Raymond was left pretty much to himself. He suspected that the doctors were keeping him in the hospital longer than they normally would because they knew he was headed straight to jail to await trial once they turned him loose.
The city may have been forced to spring for a private room, but they weren’t going to give him a TV. Raymond spent much of his time staring out the window at a narrow blue strip of sky between two other buildings. The only breaks in the monotony of his days were when they got him up and made him walk up and down the halls for exercise. Raymond was stashing his pain medication rather than taking it. It hurt his gut like fire to walk up and down the halls, but he bore up.
He was always escorted on these walks by a uniformed cop