(A little bit of everything in this one. Once again a huge thanks to my collaborator for her help and suggestions to make this story make sense.)
Chapter 7
When Perry, Della and Tragg arrived at LA County General they were met by Sergeant Brice. He told them that Paul had been taken immediately to surgery for removal of the wood splinter from his shoulder. A Dr. Wilson was the emergency physician on call and had promised to come back as soon as he had any news.
Perry led Della into the waiting room. "How about if you have a seat and rest and I'll get us some coffee." Della raised her eyebrow at him.
"Perry, don't try to keep me out of this. If you want to talk to the Lieutenant and Sergeant Brice just go. But you'd better tell me what you find out."
Perry laughed and bent to give her a quick kiss. "Anything you say, Miss Street."
She playfully tapped his cheek. "Just go. Oh...and Perry? Don't forget my coffee."
Perry gave her another kiss and left to join Tragg and the sergeant in the hallway.
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Paul was trying to claw his way through a thick fog. He knew something wasn't right and he was desperate to figure out why. But one thought was very clear. Della. He needed to find Della. Perry would have his head if something had happened to Della.
Perry and Della were sitting together, talking quietly, when they heard the moan.
Perry was immediately on his feet and at the side of the hospital bed.
"Paul? Can you hear me buddy?" He laid a gentle hand on Paul's arm.
Della joined him and spoke softly. "Paul, its Della. Please wake up."
Slowly, very slowly, Paul opened his eyes. Images were fuzzy so he blinked a couple times trying to clear not just his sight but his mind. Finally the fog cleared and he saw the smiling faces of his two best friends.
"Hey… Beautiful," he managed, weakly.
Perry let out a laugh. "See Della. I told you he'd be fine. He doesn't even acknowledge me."
Della joined in. "Oh Paul. I'm so glad you're back with us. I've been so worried."
Paul tried to sit up, but immediately realized something was wrong. "What..."
Perry kept his hand on Paul's arm. "Easy Paul. You've got a few bumps and bruises."
Della smacked Perry's arm. "Seriously!"
Still slightly groggy, Paul looked from Della to Perry. "Did I miss something?" He tried to shift and realized his leg was in a cast, hanging from a sling that held it elevated. He looked back to Perry. "Wanna catch me up here?"
"Sure." Perry pulled a chair over to the bed, helping Della sit down. Then standing next to her, with his hand slowly and gently caressing her shoulder, a fact that Paul didn't miss, he told Paul everything that had happened. As Perry finished, reciting the contents of the new note from memory, Paul remained quiet.
Della placed her hand over his. "Paul?"
Paul smiled and very pointedly looked at Perry's hand on her shoulder. "Ah, didn't you leave something out?"
Della blushed and dropped her head. Perry just growled his response. "That's none of your business."
"Sorry." Paul again tried to shift with no success. "So when can you spring me from here? We need to get back on this...and fast."
Perry just shook his head. "Paul. You have a fractured leg and that piece of wood they pulled out of your shoulder just barely missed some vital organs. You aren't going anywhere for a few weeks."
"I'm fine. Now get a wheelchair and get me out of here."
Della was about to say something when the door opened and a buxom, statuesque redhead nurse entered.
"Excuse me folks, but I need to get some vitals on my patient."
Paul's forgot about his visitors and his attention was now completely on the nurse. "I'm sure my blood pressure just went up considerably." He didn't even look at Perry and Della. "You guys go ahead. Come back when you can. Now Nurse, what kind of vitals do you need? My phone number?"
Perry helped Della to her feet and putting his arm around her, guided her out of the room. From the hallway, they could still hear Paul, who was now trying to convince the nurse to give him her number.
Della gave her head a small shake. "That man is incorrigible. At least we know he's going to be fine."
Perry squeezed her gently. "That he is. Now we need to get back to your place so you can pack some things you need."
"What?! No, I'm..."
Perry stopped and turned to her. "Della, you are not staying at your place. Whoever this person is, they know where you live. And besides, it looks like a bomb went off in there." He smiled, then seeing her face crumple, he winced and wished he could take back his stupid joke. "I'm sorry, baby. That was awful." He pulled her in for a quick hug and then held her at arm's length and looked into her eyes. "You need to pack, then we are stopping at my place, and the office. I'm taking us someplace safe. I'm also closing the office until further notice. Now let's get going."
When Perry used that courtroom voice, Della knew there was no sense in arguing. "You're the boss."
Perry bent and kissed her nose. "Glad you remembered that."
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The presidential suite at the LA Biltmore Hotel was beyond description. It was two floors with three bedrooms and five bathrooms. There was a full kitchen which the concierge had offered to stock, and an area with a huge desk - typewriter and phones already set up - where they could arrange their office. Della was fascinated by the spiral staircase connecting the floors. And the view of Pershing Square was spectacular.
She knew from the gossip magazines that the hotel had hosted numerous Hollywood stars, and even a president or two. When they had arrived, she had been so awed by the cathedral ceiling of the lobby and the Italian and Spanish architectural styling that Perry had chuckled and told her to close her mouth.
Perry had registered under the name of Stephen Bechtel. Perry had done some trademark work for Bechtel's construction company. He also knew that the developer was overseas at the moment so there would be no questions asked.
The only person who knew of their exact location was Lt. Tragg. Gertie, their receptionist, was thrilled when they had sent her to a spa in Nevada for vacation, all expenses paid. Tragg had given Hamilton Burger, the DA, a run-down of what was going on so that he could take precautions and manage the information flow to the press. They had placed round-the-clock police protection on Paul's hospital room.
Della was standing at the window, looking out over the city, when Perry put his arms around her from behind and kissed her neck, sending a shiver down her spine.
"Feeling a little safer?"
She turned in his arms, putting her hands on his chest. "As long as you're here and holding me, I couldn't feel more protected."
Perry found her lips for a soft, lingering kiss. Della felt as if she could melt into a gooey puddle, but she knew they had work to do. Reluctantly she pulled away, looking into his eyes.
"We had better get to work."
Perry chuckled and attempted to recapture her lips. "I thought we were."
Della pushed at him. "Perry, please. We need to go through those files. We have to find out who's doing this."
"Slave-driver." With one more quick peck on her cheek, he headed to the corner of the room that Della had already transformed into a working law office.
When the phone rang, Della jumped and only stared at the instrument as if it would bite. Perry reached around her stiff figure and answered. "Yes? Okay; send him up." He smiled at Della and touched her arm. "It's fine. The hotel manager will only put through calls with proper identification. Lt. Tragg is on his way." He could feel her visibly relax.
At the knock on the door, he crossed the floor and looked through the peephole. Seeing a magnification of Tragg's scowling face, he opened the security lock and admitted the older man.
"I take it you have some news for us?"
Tragg took his time, looking around the opulent suite. He let out a low whistle. "Well I guess if you have to hide out, this isn't too bad."
"Tragg." Perry's voice was a growl. Della came over to take the lieutenant's hand. "Come in and sit down. Would you like a cup of coffee while you talk?
Tragg smiled at Della and dutifully followed her to the sitting room. "Thank you Della, but don't go to any trouble."
She just patted his weathered hand and he blushed slightly. "It's no trouble at all. I'll be back in a minute." She glanced at Perry. "Why don't you two get started?" With that, she headed to the kitchen.
Perry just shook his head and marveled at his new love. It was very clear she had Tragg wrapped around her little finger. The cop was still smiling when Perry took a seat opposite him.
"I've got to hand it to you, Mason."
Perry lit a cigarette and raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?"
"In the midst of everything going on, you've made her happy."
Both men watched Della as she bustled about the kitchen, putting coffee on and setting cups, saucers, cream and sugar on a tray. She was humming softly, quite unaware of her audience.
When Tragg glanced at Perry and saw the almost far-away look he had for Della, he knew the lawyer was hooked.
Della returned to set the tray down on the coffee table, then brushing her hand on Perry's arm, she gracefully settled on the couch. "So Lieutenant, have you found out anything new?"
"I'm sorry Della. The bullet casings and the notes had no fingerprints. But we expected that. What few pieces of the bomb we found were also clean. But we did get a bit of luck. One of the pieces appears to be part of the timer. We are working on tracing where it was purchased, but its slow going."
When Perry opened his mouth to speak, Della read the impatience on his face and stopped him with a glance. "We appreciate all you're doing for us. Let me see if the coffee's ready." With one last warning look for Perry to be nice, she headed to the kitchen.
Seeing the cop watching Della, Perry cleared his throat. "Arthur, I want to make arrangements to get Paul moved from the hospital."
Tragg reluctantly turned his eyes back to Perry. "I've got men covering him 24 hours."
"I know that. But someone got into my office with your men watching it. If I move him here under an alias, he'll be a lot safer."
"If you..."
"Have you been able to question the officer who was injured at my office?"
Tragg nodded. "Yes. And I know where you're going with this. The only other person entering your office that night was another policeman. He told my officer he was there to give him a break. Then my guy was knocked out."
Della returned with the coffee pot and poured them each a cup, adding sugar to Perry's. As she handed the cup to the lieutenant, she looked between the two men. "So you think this might be a cop doing this? That's unbelievable."
"No it's not." Tragg responded. "Unfortunately there are several places where someone can obtain a police uniform. And I'm running a check on every man on the force, and at the same time, accounting for the inventory of every uniform that has been assigned out."
"We know you're doing everything you can. And we do appreciate it, don't we, Perry?" Her stern look was not lost on Perry.
"Of course we do. I'm going to contact Paul's man Faulkner and have him get Paul moved in here. Thank you for your help, Tragg.
As the older man stood and walked to the door, he stopped and turned, seeing that Perry had drawn Della close to his side.
"By the way, Mason, do you know a Frank Lawton?"
"Yes. He was in the Navy with me. I defended him two years ago on a murder charge. Why do you ask?"
"Well, then, I'm sorry to tell you that his car went off a cliff in Oregon a couple days ago. He had your card in his wallet so the local police notified me. Goodnight Della, Perry."
When the door had closed, Della turned to Perry. "Oh Perry, I'm so sorry about Frank."
Perry wrapped Della in his arms. "Thank you. He always seemed to find trouble in his life. I'll need to contact his family and extend my condolences."
Della nodded. "I'm sure I have the information. I'll get it for you."
As she started to pull away, Perry tightened his arms. "But first things first. What would you like to do for dinner Miss Street? I can whip up us a three-course meal in no time. Jump right in if you have any suggestions for dessert…" He bent to nuzzle her neck.
"Mmmmm. Let's order room service instead."
Perry continued to work his way up her neck, along her jaw and finally to her lips. "Excellent idea."
As much as she was enjoying his kiss, Della pushed him away. "We need to contact Faulkner, make arrangements to get our boy moved here and then we still have to go through those files."
Perry kissed her again. "Are you sure?"
"Yes I am. Now move." She pulled away from him and picked up the tray of coffee to return it to the kitchen.
Perry smiled and thought to himself that she was going to be an exciting handful as they got further into their relationship. With that he picked up the phone to call Faulkner.
