All's fair
Chapter 11: Just when you thought...
He awoke to throbbing pains, everywhere. His left eye was nearly swelled shut. Trying to stand only put him back on the floor with a hard fall and wrenching pain from his ankle… it wasn't broken, he could still move his foot, but it was badly sprained and swollen.
Then he remembered what had happened. Pam's husband and brother… this wasn't the first time this had happened, but it sure may be the worst beating his philandering had ever produced.
He dragged himself into his bathroom and began the process. He kept a number of supplies just for the times that this kind of thing happened. Checking his face in the mirror, he had a swollen nose and badly blackened left eye. He wasn't sure how he sprained his ankle, but he did remember them kicking him in the stomach… which explained the soreness and bruises on his abdomen and chest. His lips had been split, but he had been out long enough that the bleeding had stopped. He ran some hot water and began to clean himself up. Afterward, he didn't look quite so bad, but he still had his ankle to contend with. He could barely stand. Wrapping it with a compression bandage did worlds of good, but he still had problems getting around. He began searching through his closet and found the old cane he had inherited from his great grandfather. He'd never been one to keep much, but the old oak cane had always fascinated him for some reason.
'Maybe this was why…' he thought.
He took a handful of aspirins and lay down on his bed. It was nearly three in the morning. 'Work was not going to be fun later today.' He mused.
He told his boss that he had fallen down the stairs at his apartment building. His boss noticed that Freddie seemed depressed, but thought it must be the aches and pains evident when he had to walk, so he didn't say anything.
Sam started her new job checking over life insurance claims. Her new duties consisted of looking into claims that were… different. Her boss was explaining things to her…
"…so you see Sam, this one is really just a fluke. He took out the insurance and about a month later passed away when he fell off of his fishing boat and drowned. These will show up here from time to time just because the insured didn't pass due to natural causes so soon after the policy was taken out. This other one is a real fluke. It's the same circumstances as far as the timing goes, but the policy payment is much different. This woman was killed when her car went off the road and into a ravine. The first problem is when the policy was taken out. It's only a few days until the insured died, and the amount of time since the death that it was filed… the next day. Then there is another real problem here. It's that the policy pays to a numbered bank account in Belize. That makes it look very suspicious. The police investigation didn't raise any flags though, so… we'll pay the claim. We could hold up the payment and try to find out who it is getting the payment, but it's a numbered account. The people in Belize will just smile at our agent and basically tell us to jump in the lake…"
Sam looked over the paperwork about the poor fellow that drowned, and then the one about the woman who drove into the ravine…
Sam's breath hitched… 'The woman's name was Andrea Lockwood… it couldn't be the same person. The woman died in the high desert, seemingly on her way to Beatty, Nevada driving along a tiny two lane highway… highway 395.' Sam thought.
Sam looked on the front page of the packet of forms… the date of death was four days ago. Flipping through the pages of the packet she came to a personal information page, and the deceased's picture… It was her… Andrea Lockwood was one of Andy's girlfriends that she had met that insane night at the 'La Cave' restaurant only a little over two and a half weeks ago.
The rest of the week passed without any major incidents. Freddie was getting better daily, but still needed the cane to walk. The sprain in his ankle was healing, but it was still very sore and difficult to walk.
Sam nearly ran into Freddie in the laundry room Friday evening, but upon noticing him folding his laundry, she abruptly turned around and returned to her apartment. Freddie noticed her in the doorway of the laundry room, and grimaced when she turned around and left. He noticed that a lone sock had fallen out of her laundry basket. He didn't do anything at first, he had decided that the less contact they had while he still lived here, the better it would be. About twenty minutes later, on his way back to his apartment he noticed the sock still on the lawn.
"Oh hell…" He said out loud to himself. He sat his laundry basket on the ground and picked up the escaped sock. Walking over to her door, he knocked… no answer.
"Sam! It's Freddie, you dropped a sock." He said while knocking again.
He waited for a moment, knocked again, and then shook his head.
"Sam, it's only a sock, okay… You dropped it. I'll leave it here on the doorknob…" He called while placing the sock over the doorknob. It fell off.
Then he got the weird idea of putting the sock over the doorknob. He chuckled and stretched the elastic top over the knob and began to twist it into place. The knob turned, the door opened.
That's when he smelled it… gas. He pushed the door all the way open and looked in. Sam was sitting in a chair, looking directly at him, not moving.
Freddie stepped back, turned his head and gulped in as much air as his lungs could hold. He shuffled into the apartment as fast as he could with the impediment of his ankle. Grabbing her by her arm, he leaned over and picked her up over his shoulder. His ankle complained bitterly, but he managed to get her outside the apartment. Standing just outside her door, he decided to get her back to a bench in the laundry room. He hobbled over to it, and then inside. He unceremoniously dumped her onto the bench and then sat down next to her. He had just begun lightly rubbing her cheeks and neck when she began to come around.
She leaned forward and vomited.
Freddie managed to catch her hair and hold it back, but wasn't able to dodge all of it. She sat back up and began sucking in huge gulps of air.
"Are you okay?" Freddie asked.
Sam looked at him and nodded. She resumed breathing normally over the next few moments.
"What the hell happened?" She asked.
"I'll tell you in just a moment… rest here until I get back… don't go into your apartment. It's full of gas." Freddie said.
Sam looked at him for a moment, and then nodded.
Freddie pulled out his cell phone and called 911, explaining what had happened as he limped toward his car. Opening the trunk, he took out a small tool chest and retraced his steps. Passing the laundry room, he continued to a north facing wall with a number of gas meters. Finding the one belonging to Sam's apartment, he adjusted his crescent wrench and turned off the gas.
Returning to the laundry room, he stood in front of Sam.
"Better?" He asked.
Sam nodded: "Yeah… look at you; I puked all over you…"
"It's okay… look, you can still be pissed at me. Its fine… well not fine, but I do have it coming I guess… I'm just glad your better. I thought… well… I'm glad you're better. I shut off the gas and called the fire department. I'll stay here until they show up if you want." Freddie replied.
"So what did happen?" Sam asked.
"When you saw me in the laundry room and left, you dropped a sock. I knocked on your door, trying to return it. You didn't answer. So I put it on your door knob and while doing that the knob turned and your door opened. I saw you comatose on your couch and smelled the gas so I brought you here. You started gasping and gulping air, then threw up… That's it in a nutshell. I've no idea where the gas leak is, but let's let the fire guys figure that out before you go back to your place. And… if you don't want me around, I'll go." Freddie said.
"Alright… look… sorry for puking on you… and please stay. I'm… I'm still upset about… you know… but thanks. Thanks for getting me out of there." Sam said.
Freddie nodded. He went outside and brought in his laundry basket. Sitting down on the bench, he pulled off his soiled pants and shoes and changed into some sweat pants. He put the soiled clothes in a washer and started it.
"You just wanted to see me with my pants off again, didn't you…" Freddie said chuckling.
Sam smiled.
A fire truck pulled up, followed closely by a gas company service truck. Freddie explained the situation in detail to the Fire Captain while the rest opened windows, set up fans and looked for the leak. Shortly, a paramedic team arrived and took Sam out to their truck.
Freddie waited for his clothes to finish washing, took them out of the washer and decided he had had enough time in the laundry room for one night. His head had started to ache nearly as bad as his ankle. It had been a long, crazy week. He took his wet laundry, picked up his basket and returned to his apartment. Flipping on the TV, he promptly fell asleep.
He awoke to someone knocking at his door. He groggily limped over, and opened it. It was Sam, accompanied by two Police Officers:
"Freddie, they want to interview you… someone tried to murder me!" Sam said.
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