Chapter 4
The phone call had been risky, and Rick wouldn't have tried it at all if it hadn't been for the wigs. Abrams' mom, as it turned out, had died of cancer, but after a long battle. Her only two concessions to vanity had been the two wigs she'd owned. One had been a gift from a talented toymaker and the other donated by the school where she'd taught for ten years.
When his mother had died, the wigs had been left in their protective boxes, untouched by a grieving husband and children. When Abrams had been sent up, and his family hassled so badly they decided to move out of town, the house became a shell of the family home it had once been. What Abrams' dad and sister hadn't taken with them, had been ravaged and picked through by various squatters, and the electricity, water and phone lines had been shut off.
It was Rick's request for a phone that had set off Abrams' monotone recitation of a heartbreaking history, leaving Rick with more information than he'd wanted. He hadn't wanted to like the kid, or feel a connection with him because he'd lost a parent at a young age. And yet...
Once he'd found a way to stop the bleeding in his hand and wrapped it tight enough that the broken fingers couldn't move, Rick had changed into some of Abrams' dad's clothes. He'd stuck one of the wigs on his head, then snuck out to find a payphone and make his call.
His next goal was to find a way to get back to his brother but instead of staying hidden in the house like he'd been told, Abrams had showed up, finally changed out of his juvie tan and sporting the second wig tied back in a long pony tail. The beauty of current fashion made it acceptable for a man to have long hair, but Abrams looked ridiculous.
"Look kid, I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but you were better off in that rat hole."
"I been there three days. There's nothing left to eat in there and I ain't got no money."
Rick paused at the end of one of the alleys he'd been using to get across town, and pointed at the shoulder length, straight brown hair the kid was wearing. "That's worth a little money. Take it by a pawn shop, pick up some bus fare."
"It's got Mom's name in it. It was a gift personally made for her." Abrams' said, irritated, then doggedly followed Rick out of the alley and down a side street. "Look if you want to steal a car you're on the wrong side of town. I can jack it for ya, hotwire it, even be your getaway driver."
"I'm not tryin' to get away, I'm tryin' to get back in." Rick glanced around him in a full circle trying to orient in a town he barely knew. "Besides that phone call I made was to the two guys that'll do you the most good. You wait at that house, they'll get ya safe and sound outta town."
"You wanted?"
"What?" Rick asked tipping his head past the corner of a building and scanning the road beyond it before he slipped back into the shadows.
"Wanted?" Abrams asked, dropping his volume. Trying to do the same move Rick had just done, but loose locks of the wig kept falling in his eyes. "By the police?"
Rick thought about Sam Waggoner, the amount of pressure he'd exerted against the man after watching his brother being beaten, the look on the acting sheriff's face. He'd been trying to deny it, to convince himself that Reuben had been wrong. That he hadn't killed a cop, no matter how twisted or corrupt the son of a bitch might have been.
"Sorta." Rick said, ducking around the corner he'd just checked, unable to shake his teenaged tail. They moved together through the narrow shadows until Rick could see beyond the blinding light at the end of the tunnel. Under the unforgiving late afternoon sun there was a dirt covered road, a vibrant green space and the towering courthouse building beyond it.
"I can help you get away. I got some friends around here, man, I can get us a hideout."
Rick glanced at the kid, raised a brow then said. "If that were true you wouldn't have been sucking spaghetti sauce out of a can in your old house."
"But-"
"Look, Abrams-"
"My name's Robby."
"Go back there. You were safe there. Go. Shoo!"
Robby was neither amused nor did he look as afraid as he should have been of the risk of being spotted with Rick Simon, wanted cop killer. Rick grit his teeth against the irritating pounding coming from his hand and growled. It had been about two days of nobody listening to him, or doing what he told them to do, and he was tired of it. He hadn't been a colonel overseas, but the chain of command had been a beautiful thing. For the most part, people did what you told them to do, when you told them to do it.
Civilians tended to argue, a lot. They always wanted to put their two cents in and they bulked like obstinate two-year-olds when you raised your voice at them.
Rick worked at remembering the reasons he'd had for leaving the military after his return to the states as he watched the cops sitting in the lone cruiser outside the station, eating their way through sandwiches and coffee.
The building full of cops wasn't buzzing the way Rick would have expected it to have been with another of their own killed by an outsider, even after a few hours had passed. The thought gave Rick a thin sliver of hope for the value of his own life in this town.
"Why the hell are you goin' back in there anyway?"
"I gotta know what happened to my brother. I gotta get him to a hospital."
Robby was quiet for a minute then walked away. Rick blinked, watching the kid disappear abruptly again, then shook his head and wiped sweating palms on jeans that smelled like camphor and dust.
He knew his most expedient method would be to walk straight in, a stranger off the street there to report a kitten up a tree...or better still, a sighting of himself. His disguise wasn't going to last long though. Even if it meant being reassured that AJ had been taken to the hospital, and not left to rot by a spiteful fraternity reeling from two deaths, Rick considered it worth it.
He'd done what he'd run off to do; making contact with the outside world. Now he had to deal with the guilt that the escape had laid on him.
He was about ready to cross the street when a flood of cops spilled out of the building, heading for their cars and slapping sirens on before screeching out onto the asphalt. Even the two sandwich eaters had responded to a radio call before taking off.
While Rick stared in wonder, Robby Abrams came panting down the alley toward him, grinning at the fireworks of cherries and berries that he'd set off.
"What the hell'd you do?" Rick asked, watching the last of the cop cars pull around a corner before he crossed the street.
Robby kept pace, moving with the ease of youth. "Couple days ago I followed the helicopter that took some of the guys from the bus. They took those kids to the old alternative center near the highway. I called the cops and told 'em one of the kids spotted me, and we escaped together."
Rick was impressed but didn't respond, scanning the open green lawn and the windows of the courthouse building before he took a deep breath and waltzed back into the police station. The main room was practically empty, the only person there an old receptionist he hadn't seen before.
She looked at their long hair with obvious distaste but tried to force a friendly smile on her face. Rick crammed a few irritations into his box and tried on a friendly smile of his own before sauntering up to the desk. Behind him Abrams tried to mimic the move, looking patently ridiculous in the hairpiece.
"Can I help you?"
"I'd like to see one o' your prisoners." Rick drawled. "AJ Simon. I'm his lawyer."
The woman gave him a once over and laughed, delicately, in his face. Rick flashed her a bright smile that drew her back a little but she chuckled and said, "No, you're not."
Rick kept the smile in place, trying not to translate the immediate dismay that struck him. His eyes searched the woman's knick-knack covered desk desperately for a second before he noticed the messy pile of mardi gras beads collected around a gharishly painted skull. "Uh...sure I am." He stuttered, "I represent Hukster, Halley and Cline, of friendly N'Orleans-"
"Norleans...oh! New Orleans, oh really!?"
That had her hooked. Rick put a little extra drag into his drawl, a bit of a Baiyou purr into his R's. In minutes he'd been offered a tour of the cells and the station, free coffee and donut from the snack room and "...dinner at my place, since you've come all this way. But I hate to be the one to bring bad news. Your client was badly injured today and taken to Winslow Memorial."
"Injured! Now, how did that happen?"
The woman flushed hard, and looked a little sick to the stomach. Rick turned away from her before she could turn a guilty look on him. He didn't want to know what lie she'd been told, nor did he want to know if it was a lie she believed, or a lie she was paid to believe. He didn't want to know how deeply embroiled everyone in that station was in the deception.
A second later it occurred to him that the receptionist hadn't hastened to add the death of a police officer.
"Hospital you say, well...I suppose I'll just have to go visit him there, won't I?" Rick said, forcing himself to quickly give the woman an enchante before he tried to head for the door.
Robby had followed him in, and interrupted his escape with a drawl of his own that was bizarre, but passable. "Scuse me. That man's my brother. Can I have his personal effects?"
The receptionist softened a little and Rick looked at Abrams, surprised at the change on the kid's face. A little broken, a little tired and sad. The kid had some talent. The wig wasn't really helping though, especially when Rick remembered Abrams had blonde hair that rivaled AJ's.
Angrily Rick tugged the stupid wig from Robby's head and pointed a finger in his face. "I told you, you could come in as long as you stayed quiet. Every time you open your mouth your brother stands less and less chance of gettin' out before he-"
Abrams gave him a squirrelly look, and the flash of anger in his eyes when Rick exposed his hair was very real. He was fast though, and screamed. "He ain't gonna die. The doc said all he needed was a….a bone...transfusion. And I'm the one that's going to give it to him."
"What?"
Rick sighed and shook his head. "There isn't time, Miss. Even if you could get us the prisoner's personal effects. He's probably dying over at that hospital, and you, young man, have time enough to say goodbye. That's all."
"But his insurance card!"
Rick gave Robby a confused look that the kid didn't respond to until he realized with a jolt that Rick wasn't following. "My brother's insurance card! It'll prove to them doctors that I'm a match."
Rick got it, and he opened his mouth to respond, but didn't have to. The woman was scrambling to her feet, caught up in the real life soap opera taking place before her very eyes. She knew Hollywood's version of medical knowledge like a true aficionado and saw herself as a brave, beautiful life saving part of the story as she scrambled to the metal cage that served as evidence lock up.
"I can't give you the guns of course-"
"Guns! Heaven forbid." Rick said, even if it bothered him that he might never see his .45 again.
"But those other things...I-I don't really know which belongs to which." The woman had grabbed two manilla envelopes from the lock up and was staring at both confused.
"We'll take them both. I'll personally return the items that the boy's brother doesn't own." Rick promised, his voice on the verge of touched tears.
The receptionist gently placed the two envelopes in Robby's arms, looking at him with pity. Robby gave her a brave smile and looked like he was about to hug the woman, but Rick dragged him back by the nape of his neck.
"You have a blessed day, Miss." Rick said, then steered the kid back out of the building and into the setting sun.
Robby put up with the pressure on his neck for a few feet then shrugged free of Rick's grip. "Get off me, man! Take your shit."
The sudden change in attitude bothered Rick for about a second, then he took the envelopes and waited until they had covered a block of sunbaked concrete before ducking into an alley. He ripped the wig off his head and shoved both hairpieces at the kid before tearing open each of the envelopes.
"It's not here."
"What?"
"The list. A list of names." Rick didn't know how much it mattered in the end but he would have felt better with the list in his pocket, or torn into tiny pieces and stomped into the mud. That list had caused more problems for him than it should have.
His hands worked quickly, filling his pockets with personal items, slipping his belt on and double checking that the hidden blade in the belt buckle was still there. Of course the woman hadn't thought to grab his hat, but he wasn't about to go back.
When he finally looked up he watched the kid fastidiously grooming both wigs, intent on the task, his face a mask of tightly controlled emotions. He flashed back to the superb lie the kid had come up with in there and realized it probably hadn't been a lie.
His mother had succumbed to a battle with cancer. The kid probably knew more about the medical treatment available for it than Rick would ever know. He sighed softly and looked to the belt, Swiss Army Knife and wallet in his hands. The only things AJ carried in his pockets most days.
"You plannin' to stick with me, Robby?" Rick asked.
The blonde head came up and Rick watched the kid tuck himself back in, emotionally speaking, before he shrugged.
Rick snorted softly. "The first time I went to the town hospital I was in a van with no windows. You think you can get me there."
The kid rolled his eyes, but Rick had seen the tension ease out of his shoulders at being given an important role. With Robby leading the way, the two stepped out into the growing twilight and the first cool breeze of the day.
Luyu could feel her arms buzzing in tune with her head as she walked through the hospital.
Her encounter with the receptionist had been normal. She'd been recognized and had shared her silly girl story, claiming she'd accidentally left her purse somewhere on her visit today and just needed to find it. The receptionist had offered to come with, but Luyu had talked her out of it, declairing she was embarrassed enough as it was.
She'd been given a visitor's ID and was walking the halls, edging her way toward the ER. She spotted the blonde head lolling on a gurney in a deserted hallway and had to force herself to stop walking, scan the hallway casually then step slowly toward the discarded bed. There was a buzz of voices coming from the treatment room beyond, dulled by the closed doors, but the hospital itself was relatively quiet.
The patient was barely conscious, pale with pain and struggling to breathe normally. "Hi. I'm Doctor Samara..can you tell me your name?"
The blonde had his eyes closed tightly, teeth bared and tapping rhythmically as he worked through the pain. "AJ...I'm AJ." He said, his voice sounding very much like the pre-pubescent squeak of a ten-year-old boy experiencing his first bee sting.
Except that this was a grown man with a broken rib protruding from his chest, left to suffer in a hospital hallway. His eyes opened after a moment and he studied her before closing them again with a soft groan. "Do I know you?"
"No." Luyu said, glancing down the deserted hall, "But your brother Rick knows me."
Blue eyes flew back open. "Rick? Is he okay? Did he make it out?" AJs voice rose in pitch, his breathing becoming more erratic and the pain escalating at the distress Rick's name had caused.
Luyu wished she could have told him Rick was safe, but she didn't know that.
Instead she said, "I'm here for you. My friends are going to find your brother."
"Can't...c-can't walk." AJ said, eyes closed again, his face so tight he'd have muscle strain in the morning.
"I think I can find a solution to that. Have you been treated?"
There was a silent shake of the head.
"Did they examine you at all?"
"B-blood pressure, temperature...then they brought in Sam and.."
"Sam..Sam the..the man who beat you?"
AJ grunted, salt water bubbling from under his eyelids. He managed a nod, wholly focused on taking shallower breaths.
"He's being treated here? What happened?" Luyu asked, gently guiding the gurney away from the wall and starting it toward the corner.
"Rick hit 'im."
Either that was all the explanation AJ could manage, or it was all the explanation that existed. Luyu was a little too focused on finding the equipment room she was looking for, and AJ in too much pain to continue the conversation.
Unfortunately the room she found was locked and she pulled the gurney into a treatment room instead and blocked the door closed with a wooden wedge. She was limited with what she had access to, even in that room, but she pulled up AJs shirt and shook her head at the mess Sam had made of his chest.
"You...r-really a doctor?"
Luyu smiled, pushing gently against each rib either side of the large bruise that covered the left side of AJ's chest. She watched each bone as it moved under the discolored skin, deliberately avoiding the broken one.
"Why do you ask?"
"Town's full of...liars." AJ managed.
Luyu stepped away to soak a clean towel in cold water, hunting through the drawers and cabinets that weren't locked, hoping to find something to kill the pain and maybe some gauze to cover the wound, once she'd cleaned it. Resetting the rib she didn't dare do on her own, without anesthetic, but she could stabilize it with enough layers of bandages or cloth.
By the time she responded to AJs accusation he'd begun to relax. For the sake of the amount of oxygen getting to his bloodstream, the more relaxed AJ was, the better off he'd be in the long run, but the heat beginning to radiate from AJs head and chest was bothering her. The timing, as it was, stank.
"I'm really a doctor, but if it makes you feel any better, I'm only visiting." She stood in his line of sight with a bottle of 10% saline solution in one hand and a clump of gauze in the other and watched AJs eyes bounce back and forth between the two. "I promise, I won't try to set anything for now, but I have to clean you up."
"You...you said you're here with...those two detectives?"
Luyu nodded, then shrugged a little. "Relatively speaking."
"D'you bring the cavalry?"
Luyu didn't respond fast enough and AJ groaned, closing his eyes. "This is...one of Rick's plans...isn't it?"
Luyu smirked and poured the saline quickly, cleaning away the dried blood before she packed the gauze around the broken edge of bone. AJ was quiet, trying to hold his breath despite the demand for oxygen that the pain caused. While she worked she reminded him to breathe and watched as his color went from pale and blue, to flushed and pink.
She talked him through getting him into a sitting position, moving in slow increments and watching his face as it changed colors, every few degrees. The rapid redirecting of blood was not a good sign and she knew, without treatment in the next few hours, shock would set in and the end results would be permanent.
"Can't walk." AJ panted again, shaking his head. "Can't-"
"You won't be walking. I need to find you a wheelchair. No walking, but you'll have to sit up on your own for a few minutes."
"K."
"Ok?" Luyu asked, not entirely certain AJ would still be conscious when she returned. She didn't know what she had been expecting based on the Flagstaff PD description of AJs condition but she had greatly underestimated the damage that a vengeful cop could do.
AJ gave her a second nod and moved his hand to press against the stabilizing wad of bandages. She watched him closely, her hands either side of his shoulders until he closed his eyes with a soft groan, for the moment stable.
She left without a word, unsticking the wedge of wood and scanning the hallway. Wheelchair. Wheel chair and somewhere to kill time for the next few hours because she had found AJ and decided he needed to move a whole lot faster than Hutch or Starsky were likely to accomplish their end of the bargain.