A Blast From the Past

Chapter 2

After Perry settled Della in her bed, making sure she was comfortable and almost asleep, he returned to her living room. He fixed himself a drink and stood looking out of the balcony windows.

His thoughts turned to who might have fired those shots and why. There had been no recent threats, no unhappy clients. And was he the true target or was it Della? As that thought crossed his mind, a sense of fear and dread caused him to quickly drain his glass.

The ringing phone interrupted his musings. Quickly grabbing the receiver, he spoke quietly. "Hello?"

"Perry, it's Paul. How's Della?"

Perry picked up the phone, carrying it into the kitchen as far as the cord would reach, hoping to keep from disturbing Della. "She's sleeping. She says it doesn't hurt, but you know Della."

Paul chuckled. "Yes. She's always just fine."

Perry set the phone on the counter-top and turned to lean against the counter. "So did the police come up with anything new?"

"The bullets came from a Winchester Model 77 Semi-Auto .22 LR Rifle with Period Weaver Scope."

Perry heaved a sigh. "And that means what?"

Paul chuckled again. "It means, my friend, it's a high powered rifle and you were very lucky that whoever fired it missed. Also, the police found dozens of fingerprints on the roof and stairway, but none that are going to be of any use. And no prints on the shell casings. There was a partial footprint in the soft tar of the roof but that's about it. Sorry pal."

"Okay Paul. Thanks. And thank Tragg for me." His frustration sounding in his voice.

"Sure thing pal." Paul heaved a sigh. "And Perry?"

"Yes Paul?"

"We'll figure this out. Tell our girl..."

Perry smiled. "I will Paul. Thanks again." Perry set the receiver back in the cradle, and picking up the phone, walked back into the living room.

"Was that Paul?" Perry turned, surprised to see Della leaning against the door to her bedroom.

Perry set the phone down and walked over to his secretary. "Yes and what are you doing out of bed?" He took her arm and turned her back toward her bed.

"But I'm thirsty." Perry smiled at the little girl tone in her voice. He gently pushed her down on the bed.

"I'll be right back. Just stay put." He hurried back to the kitchen, let the water run to get it cold, then filled a glass, and returned to her bedside.

"Do you need more aspirin?" He sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Della drained the glass. "More?"

Della shook her head. "No to both. Now was that Paul on the phone?"

Perry took the glass and set it on the side table. "Yes. There's nothing new. They know the kind of gun was used, there are no usable fingerprints, and nothing else to go on. Now will you please lie back down and get some rest?" Perry pleaded gently, using his most persuasive and charming courtroom tone, the one that he reserved for little old ladies, drunk janitors, and the occasional scared adolescent. He had always gotten results before, but...

"But Perry..." At the scowl on her boss's face, Della lay back, pulling the covers up to her chin. "Alright. You're the boss. But you should leave so you can get some rest. We have a busy day.."

Perry smoothed the covers over her. "I'm not going anywhere. You have a perfectly comfortable couch. And we do not have a busy day, I called Gertie and closed the office. It's still a crime scene of sorts. I talked to building maintenance and it will take at least all day to get the glass replaced. Case closed. Now go to sleep like a good girl."

Della's smile caused a constricted feeling in Perry's chest. She reached out and put her hand on his arm. "Thank you Perry. Oh, and there's an extra pillow and blanket in the closet by the front door."

He patted her hand gently. "Okay. Just sing out if you need something. But please don't get up again without help. Promise?"

Della just nodded. Perry's hand on hers sent shivers throughout her body. Perry reached over to turn out the lamp. When he stood, she felt a sense of loss that she didn't understand.

Perry headed back into the living room, leaving Della's door open a little in case she would call out. Searching the closet, he found the pillow and blanket and settled in on the couch. But sleep was the farthest thing from his mind at the moment. Someone wielding a high powered rifle with a scope had tried to kill them. It didn't matter that he was probably the target, it was Della who has been hurt. How was he going to convince her to stay away from the office? Especially if he continued to go in. She did have a stubborn streak in her. He'd discovered that early on in their working relationship. Their relationship.

What was their relationship? His thoughts returned to the moments in the darkness of the office, Della's body beneath his, and his body's visceral reaction. Perry had known for quite a while his attraction to her was more than just a boss's appreciation for his secretary's efficiency. Not only was she beautiful, but smart, funny, and had become such an asset to his practice that he couldn't do without her. The times when they shared a late dinner or a few dances were becoming more frequent, and he looked forward to them more than he thought he should.

Perry suddenly stood and quietly went to the kitchen. He reached unerringly into the cabinet for the scotch she kept for him. He poured himself a large drink and returned to the couch. He needed to get his thoughts back on figuring out who was after him. He knew he could depend on Paul to help. And he was sure Tragg would have the police working equally hard, maybe not so much for him but because of Della. Everyone loved Della. Everyone.

With that thought, he drained the scotch and lay back, trying to purge the image of the beautiful woman asleep just a few feet away. But as he closed his eyes, her face was the last thought he had before sleep claimed him.