AN: So then I says to Mary I says...
Just kidding. So many of my favorite authors seem to make a point of an
author's note with every chapter and I wanted to be part of the club. Not-
so-unfortunately, I can't think of anything to say, so here's the next
chapter. Hope y'all like it.
Tuesday 9:24 am
"It's been a long time," Jack's pompous drawl oozed over the line. "How are Davis and Harrison? Keeping out of trouble, I trust."
They hadn't spoken since Luke's funeral. She'd thought her hatred toward the self-proclaimed angel of death had eased enough for her to function. At least it wasn't all-consuming, and it could've been. It really could've been. But now, hearing Jack's voice even after three months, she had to fight just to keep from breaking the receiver in half.
"Horrible accident, wasn't it?" he went on. "You're looking well, by the way. Are you doing something new with your hair?"
"What do you want, Jack?"
"Well now, normally I like to start these catch-up conversations with something like the weather. However, since there's only so much you can say about rain, let's talk about something less dreary. Like, say, how you're going to spend the day."
"Don't be coy. I don't have the time."
"Then let me be more direct: You're going to stay in your apartment until it's time to go to work. Then you will go directly to the bone-yard and see that your necropheliac boss stays away from that poor EMT's body."
"We both know that's not going to happen."
Tru could almost hear his innocent shrug. "Worth a try. If you stay in today, it saves us both a lot of trouble to the same end."
"Yeah. Good luck with that, you arrogant prick."
"Tru, I'm telling you as a friend to stay away from this one. I happen to know a little about it and there are forces at work here other than some dumb-luck car accident."
"Meaning?"
"Nothing. Tru, what happens when somebody who's supposed to die winds up walking away? What happens?"
"Sorry. I don't have any more boyfriends whose murders you can orchestrate in retribution."
"In this case, I don't think I'll have to. Think about what I said."
With that, he left her with a dial tone. Blood boiling, Tru returned the phone to its cradle, only to have it instantly ring again.
"Hello."
"Tru, I've been calling you forever! When are you going to get call waiting?"
"Harry, I'm really sorry, but I can't pick you up. And you should know better than to meet your bookie in strange, isolated places."
"How did you – Oh, jeez. Who is it this time?"
"A paramedic who's about to meet an untimely end at the hands of an SUV." Tru was already throwing on clothes and lacing up her running shoes. "Everybody keeps saying those things are unsafe, but they don't know the half of it. I have to go."
"Wait! Who's going to pick me up?"
"Ask Screwdriver. I'm sure he'd be happy to give you a ride. Oh, and tell Pike to stay on his stool. Bye!"
Tuesday 10:01 am
Tru made it to the downtown fire station just as the rain was making its climax. Rushing from her car to the front door, she knocked and was met by a man who was roughly the size of Michael Clark Duncan.
"Can I help you?" he boomed with a pleasant smile.
"Hi. I was just looking for one of your paramedics. She helped me yesterday and I wanted to give her a thank-you note."
Kind of true, actually.
"Sure. Which one are you after? Shirley? Rose? There ain't too many gals working here."
"Her last name's Frink. I didn't catch what the 'K' stood for."
The giant's smile faded away and his eyes darkened at the mention of the name.
"Oh, you mean Kiff. This way."
Michael Clark led her through a cavernous garage filled with four fire trucks and six ambulances. In one corner, a group of firemen were engaged in an intense game of basketball with a group of EMT's. Still more sat on the sidelines and watched. It had to be almost every emergency worker on duty, but Frink wasn't there.
Her escort left her at the door to a women's locker room. When she opened it, she was hit with one of the rankest odors she'd ever smelled. That was saying something, being she worked in a morgue.
"Hello? Anybody here?"
"Uh, yeah. Back here."
Tru followed the voice to the last row of lockers. There she found 'Kiff' as she was apparently called, standing next to a bucket of sudsy water and scrubbing furiously at the inside of an open locker with her name on it. The smell seemed to originate there.
Seeing Tru, she dropped her sponge in the bucket and straightened up. She looked even smaller in street clothes, not the sort of person you'd expect to find working a job that required the lifting of full-grown people. Her eyes were almost as dark as her short hair, which seemed to emphasize the plain weariness Tru saw there. Still, she managed to look friendly.
"Ride along?" she asked.
It took a moment for Tru to realize that she was asking if she were a student come for a duty tour.
"Um, yeah. I'm going into med school and my advisor thought it'd be a good idea if I... What's that smell?"
"Nothing. Just a bad joke. Come on. I'll take you to the captain and he'll get you set up with a crew."
"You mean I won't be riding with you?" Tru said, disappointed. It would've been a perfect way to keep her an eye on her.
"I don't think so. They don't like to put students with people who just got off suspension."
Tru frowned. "Suspension? Is that why you're...?"
"Scrubbing a dead fish out of my locker instead of shooting buckets with my esteemed colleagues? Yeah. Don't worry, though; I'll get you where you need to go. Follow me."
Tru followed Kiff out of the locker room to a nearby stairwell and they began their ascent to the second floor.
"Can I ask you something?" Tru said carefully.
"You can ask."
"Why'd you get suspended?"
"Let's see, how should I answer this time? I'm a ball-busting career woman who'll do anything to climb the ladder. I make up stories to slander my co-workers because I'm a vindictive little bitch. But I prefer the reader's digest version: I'm just a little girl with a big mouth."
At the landing now, she turned to Tru who was looking very awkward. Kiff sighed.
"I'm sorry. I met you three minutes ago and I'm laying all this on you."
"No, that's okay –"
"Listen, you seem like a nice kid. If you want these guys to like you, I suggest you keep your distance from me. It'll make your rides a lot more pleasant."
Kid? Tru thought as Kiff knocked on the door at the top of the stairs. She was only a couple years younger than Kiff.
The door opened and there was Michael Clark Duncan again.
"Frink," he said stiffly.
"Captain," Kiff said with a salute. "Got a rider for you." To Tru, she said "Have a safe one," and trotted down the stairs.
"Oh," said the captain. "I thought you were here to –"
"I – I was, but as long as I was here, I thought two birds with one stone, you know."
"Oh, I gotcha. C'mon in –"
He was interrupted by a loud DIIIIINNG-DOOOOONG over the loudspeaker.
"SQUAD FIFTY-ONE, SQUAD FIFTY-ONE. HIGHWAY THIRTY-FIVE AND NINTH STREET, SOUTHBOUND LANE, CAR VERSUS LIGHT POST."
"I'm sorry; I have to take this one. Why don't you make yourself comfortable and we'll get you squared away with a crew when I get back."
He bounded down the stairs and joined the swarm around one of the trucks. Seconds later, they were blaring out the garage door onto the city street.
Opportunity was hers. And though there was no real reason as yet to believe that Frink's death was anything but an accident, Tru's curiosity was reaching the breaking point. Besides, the more information the better, right?
Tru slipped inside the captain's office, where there was a huge mahogany desk, various images of the American flag, and a lot of file cabinets. With many cautious glances over her shoulder, she began to rifle through the hideously unorganized file cabinets until she found a drawer labeled 'EMPLOYEE FILES'. Said files weren't exactly alphabetical, and Frink's was in the very back.
Let's see... Started work April of 2002, quiet career so far, even a few nice-job-type notes on the record. And then, in a letter dated one month ago to the day...
"Dear Commissioner: My name is Kathleen Frink and I am a paramedic with the city fire department. If you will please forgive my bluntness, I'm worried about my station's handling of its supply of narcotic medications, specifically morphine sulphate and versed. Lately, I've been noticing more and more vials unaccounted for. In brief, the numbers on the records and the inventory simply don't match. I know this is probably nothing, but I've mentioned it to the station captain several times and he has yet to take any action.
"I'm sorry again to bother you, but if you think as I do that these concerns are warranted, please do not hesitate to contact me. I would appreciate the peace of mind.
Regards, Kathleen F. Frink, NREMT-P"
Tru turned to the next page in the file, a Xeroxed form with the heading of Suspension Notice. Dated three days after the letter, the region under 'Reason for suspension' was filled out in sloppy cursive.
"Paramedic Frink to be suspended for twenty days without pay for unfounded accusations which directly resulted in an invasive and obstructive investigation of the station, marring the good name of the fire department, and failure to follow the chain of command."
Jesus, no wonder Kiff was so unpopular. She'd as much as accused her co-workers of drug-trafficking and gone over her supervisor's head. So there was an entire station full of bad blood against her.
Her phone conversation with Jack echoed in her mind. There are forces at work here other than some dumb-luck car accident. Could those forces happen to be a bunch of pissed-off emergency workers? That was not to mention that Kiff had been killed while on a phony call. Awfully convenient.
Tru carefully replaced the file and headed for the door. Closing it behind her, she turned for the stairs and almost collided with the blond EMT from the bar, Kiff's partner. His nametag read 'A. Morris'.
"Excuse me," she said, but he continued to block her way when she tried to get by.
"No, excuse me. But I've got to ask: What do you want with my partner?"
Taken aback, Tru stammered "N-nothing, honestly!"
"You know, it's bad enough she's still getting all kinds of flack from the guys around here. I mean yeah, she screwed up, but she did her penance and now she ought to be left alone."
"Look, I don't know what your deal is, but I'm just trying to help her."
A pause. "Really?"
"Yes, really. I... I think she might be in trouble."
"I'm sorry," he sighed. "It's just been a long few weeks. I thought you might've been a reporter or something. Look, most of these guys don't know it, but I've been her partner for two years and I happen to think she's damn good people."
"I'm not a reporter. But since you're here, can I ask you for a really weird favor?"
"Shoot."
"Just keep an eye on her today. Keep her out of the street as much as you can."
"The street?"
"Yeah. I mean... I was doing some research, and it seems most line-of- duty deaths for EMT's are auto related."
Tru headed out of the building, trying to think of her next move on the way to her car. Passing by the open garage door, she barely missed being hit by the bucket of dead-fish water Kiff was pitching into the gutter.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't see – Oh, it's you. Did you get set with a crew then?"
"Uh... No. Listen, Kiff. I need to tell you something. I'm not a student. I work for the city morgue."
Kiff quirked an eyebrow. "Uh-huh?"
Tru took a deep breath. This was always the hardest part – Trying to convince the subject that his or her death was imminent without sounding like an insane idiot. Then she noticed Kiff was squinting quite hard.
"Is something the matter?"
"No, I'm just kind of blinded by your bling."
Tru looked down and saw the light from the street lamp was in fact reflecting rather harshly off of her cross, the little gold one her mother had given her. She tucked it into her shirt.
"Thanks. Now, you were saying about working in the morgue..?"
"But that's not why I'm here. Well, it kind of is. I mean, I'm here because I don't want to find you there later."
Kiff stood and blinked.
"Kiff, I think someone may be trying to hurt you and they're going to try something today. Please don't go to work today."
"Okay. Number one, I'm a paramedic. I can't just not go to work. Number two, what???"
"Look, I can't tell you anything else except that I think it has something to do with the narcotic-skimming."
"There was no narcotic-skimming. I was wrong."
"How do you know?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it was the army of detectives who turned this place upside-down for three days and didn't find squat. I'd ask how you know about any of this, but I have to get ready for my tour. Good bye."
Kiff turned and went back inside. Tru sighed and continued on to her car. This was going to be one of the tough ones. At least she'd gotten Kiff's partner to listen. Maybe that would be enough.
Andy Morris stood at the foot of the fire escape and watched the pretty brunette walk away from her encounter with Kiff, a solid frown marring his handsome face. He'd watched the whole thing from his semi- hidden position and though he hadn't been able to make out a word, he didn't like the body language one bit.
"Wonder what they could be talking about."
He jumped a foot in the air, the smooth voice at his back having snapped his last frayed nerve. Jack however seemed untouched by the evil look he got in return.
"Probably girl stuff. You know: Best ladies' hygiene products, recipes involving chocolate, illegal distribution of controlled substances, stuff like that."
Andy went pale under his freckles. "What...?"
"Please, Andy," Jack said, looking hurt. "You don't have to pretend with me. Do you really think I'd bring it up if I didn't already know a few things? Like, say, how you and your boys set up your partner a month ago."
"The fuck are you?"
"Wow. You're just all kinds of eloquent, aren't you? Relax, man. I'm somebody who stands to gain if you gain. Do we understand each other?"
Andy's insides finally unclenched in relief. A middle man, that's what this guy was. Seeing this, Jack's grin widened.
"Yeah, you get it now. Of course this also means that if you go down, I lose, which is why I feel compelled to mention that that hot little number isn't a student."
"Well, what is she then?"
"She works for the city morgue."
"The morgue?" Andy said. "What's the morgue want with Kiff?"
"I don't know, but I'm guessing they're getting a few more O.D. cases than usual down there. Not that you'd know anything about that. Not that she'd know anything about that after poking around here and talking to Frink."
Jack tucked a business card into Andy's shirt pocket, then turned and walked off into the rain, leaving a very unnerved Andy behind. Andy watched him go. The chick had mentioned car accidents. Did she know about that too? He hustled into the building and headed for the deserted kitchenette, grabbing Don and Mike R. on the way.
"What'd you do that for, man?" whined Mike R. "One more free-throw and –"
"Shut up, fatty. We've got a problem, and there's going to be a change of plan."
"What's that supposed to mean?" said Don. "It's a great plan. A little hit and run and our problems disappear, right?"
"Kiff told someone. Someone with real proof, which means she's not the only one we've got to take care of now."
Tuesday 11:02 am
"Okay, let me get this straight. You think this paramedic is about to be whacked by her co-workers because she stumbled upon this drug-pocketing conspiracy? Tru, these are public safety workers we're talking about."
Tru suppressed a groan against her cell phone. She hated having to repeat things to Davis, especially when she was in this mess because he'd needed a favor in the first place.
Due to a lack of spaces, she'd had to park three blocks from the morgue. Now she was speed-walking to her place of business while trying to keep the rain out of her phone.
"I know how it sounds, Davis. If we're lucky, then it was just an accident and I've already altered the chain of events enough for her to dodge the car, but I've got a bad feeling."
"What did you tell her?"
"Just that I was suspicious and she should use a sick day."
"What did she say?"
"About what you'd expect. I think it was the EMT version of 'bite me'."
"Oh, great."
"There's another problem."
"Oh, great!"
"Jack knows."
There was a pause on the line. "Oh... Great."
"He was there at the accident scene yesterday and he called me this morning. He made it pretty clear that he doesn't intend to make this easy. Listen, she doesn't die until about two-thirty. We've got a couple hours to come up with something. How soon can you meet me at work?"
"Well, I –"
"Davis, you're just going to get killed by an elf anyway."
"Fifteen minutes."
They hung up and Tru ducked into the alley by way of a short cut. She made it about halfway down the block before a green Subaru darted into the alley, blocking her path and almost hitting her. After it screeched to a halt, Andy Morris jumped out of the driver's seat and hustled over to her.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Tru said shakily. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to find you. I think you might be right about Kiff and I want to help."
"What did you have in mind?"
"It's complicated. Why don't you hop in and we'll go somewhere to discuss it? It's kind of cold out here."
Tru looked from him to the SUV. Then she looked at the SUV some more. It looked kind of like... in fact exactly like...
"You know what, I don't think so –"
Tru backed away and ran into what felt like a brick wall. She looked up... and up and up into the stony face of the captain from the fire station.
He grabbed for her. She ducked under his arms and bolted past him. Captain Tamzarian took off after her.
Tru ran for all she was worth. She was coming up on the rear entrance to the morgue. Thinking quickly, she tore the cross from her neck, breaking the chain, and tossed it onto the back steps. If it turned out she couldn't outrun the big lummox, then at least there would be a trace.
She continued to run until she hit a 15-foot wire fence. There was no way around. With Tamzarian still gaining on her, she leapt onto mesh and began to climb. Halfway up and he was almost on her. He made a grab for her foot. She pulled with all her strength and managed to grab the top bar of the fence, narrowly escaping his swiping hand. She heard him curse and smack the fence like an angry gorilla as she hoisted herself over the top. She landed on her feet on the other side and continued to run. She was almost out of the alley. She was going to make it!
SMACK!
She heard rather than felt the SUV hit her. Lifted off her feet, she rolled up onto the hood and was stopped by the windshield. The vehicle came to an abrupt stop, causing her to be thrown to the pavement before the radiator. Tru coughed with the impact, her diaphragm locking and leaving her unable to draw a decent breath. As she lay there stunned, two men jumped out of the Subaru and hustled over to her. The tall one grabbed her upper body, pinning her arms to her sides while the husky one seized her kicking legs. She tried to scream, but the effort was smothered by Tall's big hand.
The men wrestled her into the car, which was in motion again before they even had the door closed. It was in that instant, when Husky was busy trying to grab for the door handle that Tru was able to throw an elbow to Tall's face, reach over the front seat, and rake her fingers over the face of the driver. He shrieked as her nails left angry red scratches dangerously close to his eyes.
Stars exploded across Tru's vision from Husky's punch to the side of her head and she fell against the collapsed back seats. Tall effortlessly flipped her over and wrenched her arms behind her back, holding them there as Husky secured them with duct tape.
"Fuck!" Andy snapped from the front seat. "Can't you stiffs do anything right? She almost clawed my eyes out!"
Don gingerly touched his bleeding nose. "Jesus, Andy. You didn't tell us she was a goddam karate expert."
"I ain't no goddam stiff," Mike R. muttered as he finished taping Tru's ankles together. "We got her, didn't we?"
Don drew a narrow scarf from his pocket and leaned over Tru. She tried to wiggle away from him. He grabbed one of her jacket lapels and shook her. Hard.
"Quit squirming, or I will hurt you. You get me?"
Tru didn't answer, nor did she resist when he tied the blindfold in place. She ran her dry tongue around her mouth.
"What do you want?"
"Now listen," Andy said, turning onto the side-street. "You don't have to get hurt as long as you just take it easy and don't give us any trouble. Do that and you'll be home in time for The Simpsons."
"Why? So you can kill Frink?"
"Will one of you idiots shut her the hell up?"
Mike R. slapped a strip of tape over Tru's mouth just as Andy's cell rang.
"Hello?"
"Is it done?"
"Yeah, Captain. It's done."
Tamzarian smiled. He turned to Jack, who stood casually next to him in the alley, and gave him a thumbs-up. Jack nodded.
Today was going to be a good day.
TBC...
Thanks for reading. Hope you're liking it.
Tuesday 9:24 am
"It's been a long time," Jack's pompous drawl oozed over the line. "How are Davis and Harrison? Keeping out of trouble, I trust."
They hadn't spoken since Luke's funeral. She'd thought her hatred toward the self-proclaimed angel of death had eased enough for her to function. At least it wasn't all-consuming, and it could've been. It really could've been. But now, hearing Jack's voice even after three months, she had to fight just to keep from breaking the receiver in half.
"Horrible accident, wasn't it?" he went on. "You're looking well, by the way. Are you doing something new with your hair?"
"What do you want, Jack?"
"Well now, normally I like to start these catch-up conversations with something like the weather. However, since there's only so much you can say about rain, let's talk about something less dreary. Like, say, how you're going to spend the day."
"Don't be coy. I don't have the time."
"Then let me be more direct: You're going to stay in your apartment until it's time to go to work. Then you will go directly to the bone-yard and see that your necropheliac boss stays away from that poor EMT's body."
"We both know that's not going to happen."
Tru could almost hear his innocent shrug. "Worth a try. If you stay in today, it saves us both a lot of trouble to the same end."
"Yeah. Good luck with that, you arrogant prick."
"Tru, I'm telling you as a friend to stay away from this one. I happen to know a little about it and there are forces at work here other than some dumb-luck car accident."
"Meaning?"
"Nothing. Tru, what happens when somebody who's supposed to die winds up walking away? What happens?"
"Sorry. I don't have any more boyfriends whose murders you can orchestrate in retribution."
"In this case, I don't think I'll have to. Think about what I said."
With that, he left her with a dial tone. Blood boiling, Tru returned the phone to its cradle, only to have it instantly ring again.
"Hello."
"Tru, I've been calling you forever! When are you going to get call waiting?"
"Harry, I'm really sorry, but I can't pick you up. And you should know better than to meet your bookie in strange, isolated places."
"How did you – Oh, jeez. Who is it this time?"
"A paramedic who's about to meet an untimely end at the hands of an SUV." Tru was already throwing on clothes and lacing up her running shoes. "Everybody keeps saying those things are unsafe, but they don't know the half of it. I have to go."
"Wait! Who's going to pick me up?"
"Ask Screwdriver. I'm sure he'd be happy to give you a ride. Oh, and tell Pike to stay on his stool. Bye!"
Tuesday 10:01 am
Tru made it to the downtown fire station just as the rain was making its climax. Rushing from her car to the front door, she knocked and was met by a man who was roughly the size of Michael Clark Duncan.
"Can I help you?" he boomed with a pleasant smile.
"Hi. I was just looking for one of your paramedics. She helped me yesterday and I wanted to give her a thank-you note."
Kind of true, actually.
"Sure. Which one are you after? Shirley? Rose? There ain't too many gals working here."
"Her last name's Frink. I didn't catch what the 'K' stood for."
The giant's smile faded away and his eyes darkened at the mention of the name.
"Oh, you mean Kiff. This way."
Michael Clark led her through a cavernous garage filled with four fire trucks and six ambulances. In one corner, a group of firemen were engaged in an intense game of basketball with a group of EMT's. Still more sat on the sidelines and watched. It had to be almost every emergency worker on duty, but Frink wasn't there.
Her escort left her at the door to a women's locker room. When she opened it, she was hit with one of the rankest odors she'd ever smelled. That was saying something, being she worked in a morgue.
"Hello? Anybody here?"
"Uh, yeah. Back here."
Tru followed the voice to the last row of lockers. There she found 'Kiff' as she was apparently called, standing next to a bucket of sudsy water and scrubbing furiously at the inside of an open locker with her name on it. The smell seemed to originate there.
Seeing Tru, she dropped her sponge in the bucket and straightened up. She looked even smaller in street clothes, not the sort of person you'd expect to find working a job that required the lifting of full-grown people. Her eyes were almost as dark as her short hair, which seemed to emphasize the plain weariness Tru saw there. Still, she managed to look friendly.
"Ride along?" she asked.
It took a moment for Tru to realize that she was asking if she were a student come for a duty tour.
"Um, yeah. I'm going into med school and my advisor thought it'd be a good idea if I... What's that smell?"
"Nothing. Just a bad joke. Come on. I'll take you to the captain and he'll get you set up with a crew."
"You mean I won't be riding with you?" Tru said, disappointed. It would've been a perfect way to keep her an eye on her.
"I don't think so. They don't like to put students with people who just got off suspension."
Tru frowned. "Suspension? Is that why you're...?"
"Scrubbing a dead fish out of my locker instead of shooting buckets with my esteemed colleagues? Yeah. Don't worry, though; I'll get you where you need to go. Follow me."
Tru followed Kiff out of the locker room to a nearby stairwell and they began their ascent to the second floor.
"Can I ask you something?" Tru said carefully.
"You can ask."
"Why'd you get suspended?"
"Let's see, how should I answer this time? I'm a ball-busting career woman who'll do anything to climb the ladder. I make up stories to slander my co-workers because I'm a vindictive little bitch. But I prefer the reader's digest version: I'm just a little girl with a big mouth."
At the landing now, she turned to Tru who was looking very awkward. Kiff sighed.
"I'm sorry. I met you three minutes ago and I'm laying all this on you."
"No, that's okay –"
"Listen, you seem like a nice kid. If you want these guys to like you, I suggest you keep your distance from me. It'll make your rides a lot more pleasant."
Kid? Tru thought as Kiff knocked on the door at the top of the stairs. She was only a couple years younger than Kiff.
The door opened and there was Michael Clark Duncan again.
"Frink," he said stiffly.
"Captain," Kiff said with a salute. "Got a rider for you." To Tru, she said "Have a safe one," and trotted down the stairs.
"Oh," said the captain. "I thought you were here to –"
"I – I was, but as long as I was here, I thought two birds with one stone, you know."
"Oh, I gotcha. C'mon in –"
He was interrupted by a loud DIIIIINNG-DOOOOONG over the loudspeaker.
"SQUAD FIFTY-ONE, SQUAD FIFTY-ONE. HIGHWAY THIRTY-FIVE AND NINTH STREET, SOUTHBOUND LANE, CAR VERSUS LIGHT POST."
"I'm sorry; I have to take this one. Why don't you make yourself comfortable and we'll get you squared away with a crew when I get back."
He bounded down the stairs and joined the swarm around one of the trucks. Seconds later, they were blaring out the garage door onto the city street.
Opportunity was hers. And though there was no real reason as yet to believe that Frink's death was anything but an accident, Tru's curiosity was reaching the breaking point. Besides, the more information the better, right?
Tru slipped inside the captain's office, where there was a huge mahogany desk, various images of the American flag, and a lot of file cabinets. With many cautious glances over her shoulder, she began to rifle through the hideously unorganized file cabinets until she found a drawer labeled 'EMPLOYEE FILES'. Said files weren't exactly alphabetical, and Frink's was in the very back.
Let's see... Started work April of 2002, quiet career so far, even a few nice-job-type notes on the record. And then, in a letter dated one month ago to the day...
"Dear Commissioner: My name is Kathleen Frink and I am a paramedic with the city fire department. If you will please forgive my bluntness, I'm worried about my station's handling of its supply of narcotic medications, specifically morphine sulphate and versed. Lately, I've been noticing more and more vials unaccounted for. In brief, the numbers on the records and the inventory simply don't match. I know this is probably nothing, but I've mentioned it to the station captain several times and he has yet to take any action.
"I'm sorry again to bother you, but if you think as I do that these concerns are warranted, please do not hesitate to contact me. I would appreciate the peace of mind.
Regards, Kathleen F. Frink, NREMT-P"
Tru turned to the next page in the file, a Xeroxed form with the heading of Suspension Notice. Dated three days after the letter, the region under 'Reason for suspension' was filled out in sloppy cursive.
"Paramedic Frink to be suspended for twenty days without pay for unfounded accusations which directly resulted in an invasive and obstructive investigation of the station, marring the good name of the fire department, and failure to follow the chain of command."
Jesus, no wonder Kiff was so unpopular. She'd as much as accused her co-workers of drug-trafficking and gone over her supervisor's head. So there was an entire station full of bad blood against her.
Her phone conversation with Jack echoed in her mind. There are forces at work here other than some dumb-luck car accident. Could those forces happen to be a bunch of pissed-off emergency workers? That was not to mention that Kiff had been killed while on a phony call. Awfully convenient.
Tru carefully replaced the file and headed for the door. Closing it behind her, she turned for the stairs and almost collided with the blond EMT from the bar, Kiff's partner. His nametag read 'A. Morris'.
"Excuse me," she said, but he continued to block her way when she tried to get by.
"No, excuse me. But I've got to ask: What do you want with my partner?"
Taken aback, Tru stammered "N-nothing, honestly!"
"You know, it's bad enough she's still getting all kinds of flack from the guys around here. I mean yeah, she screwed up, but she did her penance and now she ought to be left alone."
"Look, I don't know what your deal is, but I'm just trying to help her."
A pause. "Really?"
"Yes, really. I... I think she might be in trouble."
"I'm sorry," he sighed. "It's just been a long few weeks. I thought you might've been a reporter or something. Look, most of these guys don't know it, but I've been her partner for two years and I happen to think she's damn good people."
"I'm not a reporter. But since you're here, can I ask you for a really weird favor?"
"Shoot."
"Just keep an eye on her today. Keep her out of the street as much as you can."
"The street?"
"Yeah. I mean... I was doing some research, and it seems most line-of- duty deaths for EMT's are auto related."
Tru headed out of the building, trying to think of her next move on the way to her car. Passing by the open garage door, she barely missed being hit by the bucket of dead-fish water Kiff was pitching into the gutter.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't see – Oh, it's you. Did you get set with a crew then?"
"Uh... No. Listen, Kiff. I need to tell you something. I'm not a student. I work for the city morgue."
Kiff quirked an eyebrow. "Uh-huh?"
Tru took a deep breath. This was always the hardest part – Trying to convince the subject that his or her death was imminent without sounding like an insane idiot. Then she noticed Kiff was squinting quite hard.
"Is something the matter?"
"No, I'm just kind of blinded by your bling."
Tru looked down and saw the light from the street lamp was in fact reflecting rather harshly off of her cross, the little gold one her mother had given her. She tucked it into her shirt.
"Thanks. Now, you were saying about working in the morgue..?"
"But that's not why I'm here. Well, it kind of is. I mean, I'm here because I don't want to find you there later."
Kiff stood and blinked.
"Kiff, I think someone may be trying to hurt you and they're going to try something today. Please don't go to work today."
"Okay. Number one, I'm a paramedic. I can't just not go to work. Number two, what???"
"Look, I can't tell you anything else except that I think it has something to do with the narcotic-skimming."
"There was no narcotic-skimming. I was wrong."
"How do you know?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it was the army of detectives who turned this place upside-down for three days and didn't find squat. I'd ask how you know about any of this, but I have to get ready for my tour. Good bye."
Kiff turned and went back inside. Tru sighed and continued on to her car. This was going to be one of the tough ones. At least she'd gotten Kiff's partner to listen. Maybe that would be enough.
Andy Morris stood at the foot of the fire escape and watched the pretty brunette walk away from her encounter with Kiff, a solid frown marring his handsome face. He'd watched the whole thing from his semi- hidden position and though he hadn't been able to make out a word, he didn't like the body language one bit.
"Wonder what they could be talking about."
He jumped a foot in the air, the smooth voice at his back having snapped his last frayed nerve. Jack however seemed untouched by the evil look he got in return.
"Probably girl stuff. You know: Best ladies' hygiene products, recipes involving chocolate, illegal distribution of controlled substances, stuff like that."
Andy went pale under his freckles. "What...?"
"Please, Andy," Jack said, looking hurt. "You don't have to pretend with me. Do you really think I'd bring it up if I didn't already know a few things? Like, say, how you and your boys set up your partner a month ago."
"The fuck are you?"
"Wow. You're just all kinds of eloquent, aren't you? Relax, man. I'm somebody who stands to gain if you gain. Do we understand each other?"
Andy's insides finally unclenched in relief. A middle man, that's what this guy was. Seeing this, Jack's grin widened.
"Yeah, you get it now. Of course this also means that if you go down, I lose, which is why I feel compelled to mention that that hot little number isn't a student."
"Well, what is she then?"
"She works for the city morgue."
"The morgue?" Andy said. "What's the morgue want with Kiff?"
"I don't know, but I'm guessing they're getting a few more O.D. cases than usual down there. Not that you'd know anything about that. Not that she'd know anything about that after poking around here and talking to Frink."
Jack tucked a business card into Andy's shirt pocket, then turned and walked off into the rain, leaving a very unnerved Andy behind. Andy watched him go. The chick had mentioned car accidents. Did she know about that too? He hustled into the building and headed for the deserted kitchenette, grabbing Don and Mike R. on the way.
"What'd you do that for, man?" whined Mike R. "One more free-throw and –"
"Shut up, fatty. We've got a problem, and there's going to be a change of plan."
"What's that supposed to mean?" said Don. "It's a great plan. A little hit and run and our problems disappear, right?"
"Kiff told someone. Someone with real proof, which means she's not the only one we've got to take care of now."
Tuesday 11:02 am
"Okay, let me get this straight. You think this paramedic is about to be whacked by her co-workers because she stumbled upon this drug-pocketing conspiracy? Tru, these are public safety workers we're talking about."
Tru suppressed a groan against her cell phone. She hated having to repeat things to Davis, especially when she was in this mess because he'd needed a favor in the first place.
Due to a lack of spaces, she'd had to park three blocks from the morgue. Now she was speed-walking to her place of business while trying to keep the rain out of her phone.
"I know how it sounds, Davis. If we're lucky, then it was just an accident and I've already altered the chain of events enough for her to dodge the car, but I've got a bad feeling."
"What did you tell her?"
"Just that I was suspicious and she should use a sick day."
"What did she say?"
"About what you'd expect. I think it was the EMT version of 'bite me'."
"Oh, great."
"There's another problem."
"Oh, great!"
"Jack knows."
There was a pause on the line. "Oh... Great."
"He was there at the accident scene yesterday and he called me this morning. He made it pretty clear that he doesn't intend to make this easy. Listen, she doesn't die until about two-thirty. We've got a couple hours to come up with something. How soon can you meet me at work?"
"Well, I –"
"Davis, you're just going to get killed by an elf anyway."
"Fifteen minutes."
They hung up and Tru ducked into the alley by way of a short cut. She made it about halfway down the block before a green Subaru darted into the alley, blocking her path and almost hitting her. After it screeched to a halt, Andy Morris jumped out of the driver's seat and hustled over to her.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Tru said shakily. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to find you. I think you might be right about Kiff and I want to help."
"What did you have in mind?"
"It's complicated. Why don't you hop in and we'll go somewhere to discuss it? It's kind of cold out here."
Tru looked from him to the SUV. Then she looked at the SUV some more. It looked kind of like... in fact exactly like...
"You know what, I don't think so –"
Tru backed away and ran into what felt like a brick wall. She looked up... and up and up into the stony face of the captain from the fire station.
He grabbed for her. She ducked under his arms and bolted past him. Captain Tamzarian took off after her.
Tru ran for all she was worth. She was coming up on the rear entrance to the morgue. Thinking quickly, she tore the cross from her neck, breaking the chain, and tossed it onto the back steps. If it turned out she couldn't outrun the big lummox, then at least there would be a trace.
She continued to run until she hit a 15-foot wire fence. There was no way around. With Tamzarian still gaining on her, she leapt onto mesh and began to climb. Halfway up and he was almost on her. He made a grab for her foot. She pulled with all her strength and managed to grab the top bar of the fence, narrowly escaping his swiping hand. She heard him curse and smack the fence like an angry gorilla as she hoisted herself over the top. She landed on her feet on the other side and continued to run. She was almost out of the alley. She was going to make it!
SMACK!
She heard rather than felt the SUV hit her. Lifted off her feet, she rolled up onto the hood and was stopped by the windshield. The vehicle came to an abrupt stop, causing her to be thrown to the pavement before the radiator. Tru coughed with the impact, her diaphragm locking and leaving her unable to draw a decent breath. As she lay there stunned, two men jumped out of the Subaru and hustled over to her. The tall one grabbed her upper body, pinning her arms to her sides while the husky one seized her kicking legs. She tried to scream, but the effort was smothered by Tall's big hand.
The men wrestled her into the car, which was in motion again before they even had the door closed. It was in that instant, when Husky was busy trying to grab for the door handle that Tru was able to throw an elbow to Tall's face, reach over the front seat, and rake her fingers over the face of the driver. He shrieked as her nails left angry red scratches dangerously close to his eyes.
Stars exploded across Tru's vision from Husky's punch to the side of her head and she fell against the collapsed back seats. Tall effortlessly flipped her over and wrenched her arms behind her back, holding them there as Husky secured them with duct tape.
"Fuck!" Andy snapped from the front seat. "Can't you stiffs do anything right? She almost clawed my eyes out!"
Don gingerly touched his bleeding nose. "Jesus, Andy. You didn't tell us she was a goddam karate expert."
"I ain't no goddam stiff," Mike R. muttered as he finished taping Tru's ankles together. "We got her, didn't we?"
Don drew a narrow scarf from his pocket and leaned over Tru. She tried to wiggle away from him. He grabbed one of her jacket lapels and shook her. Hard.
"Quit squirming, or I will hurt you. You get me?"
Tru didn't answer, nor did she resist when he tied the blindfold in place. She ran her dry tongue around her mouth.
"What do you want?"
"Now listen," Andy said, turning onto the side-street. "You don't have to get hurt as long as you just take it easy and don't give us any trouble. Do that and you'll be home in time for The Simpsons."
"Why? So you can kill Frink?"
"Will one of you idiots shut her the hell up?"
Mike R. slapped a strip of tape over Tru's mouth just as Andy's cell rang.
"Hello?"
"Is it done?"
"Yeah, Captain. It's done."
Tamzarian smiled. He turned to Jack, who stood casually next to him in the alley, and gave him a thumbs-up. Jack nodded.
Today was going to be a good day.
TBC...
Thanks for reading. Hope you're liking it.