SMK
The Silent Killer
Chapter Fourteen
Part 1
Georgetown University Hospital – 11:45 PM
"Well, that wraps up Juan Carlo de es Nomoro," Sonny Lawson said with a chuckle as he and his coworker strode through the swinging doors that took them back into the little office area.
Tony Mindleton shook his head at Sonny's warped humor and was about to reply back to him when both men stopped dead in their tracks.
The night clerk, one Jenny Sue Chambers, was seated on the floor in traditional yoga posture and making odd little noises that seemed to be coming from her mouth.
Of course, Jenny Sue was not what either of them would term normal. She was in her mid-twenties, studying to be an accountant by day and working the graveyard shift by night. They had gone through five night clerks in less than two years; something to do with the misguided belief that the place was haunted by ghosts.
Jenny Sue, despite her wacky persona, didn't believe in ghosts. She did, however, believe in massive quantities of cold caffeine, a steady diet of Bon Jovi and currently seemed to be having a love affair with products made by Loreal.
Tonight she was sporting a short spiky hairdo that Lawson, to the best of his estimates figured was homage to either Cyndi Lauper or Madonna. The vibrant streaks of hot pink through the blonde locks seemed to lean more towards Lauper.
"Uhm, Jenny," Mindleton cleared his throat, "ah, what are you doing?"
Inhaling deeply and then exhaling slowly, she opened her big green eyes to look at him.
"Bad karma," she told him as if that made all the sense in the world.
Both men looked at one another, obviously confused.
"Huh?" Tony asked.
"I am telling you boys, there is bad karma in here tonight. I was chanting to ward it off."
Tony snickered.
"Sweet cheeks, trust me, there is no such thing as bad karma in here. Bad hair, yeah, bad karma, no."
Jenny Sue gave him a wicked glare.
"Suit yourselves," she told him as she slowly stood up and stretched her arms overhead, locking her fingers over the top of her head and closing her eyes again.
Then, much to the dismay of both men, she started chanting again.
Sonny shrugged and then proceeded to pick up the log.
"Yikes," he grumbled.
"What?"
"We've got a Fed, totally dead, next in line."
"Damn, would ya look at that folder?"
Tony shook his head in disgust.
"This is where our tax money goes, to fill out useless triplicate versions that repeat the same thing over and over, in about a hundred different ways. What's his scoop?"
"Found deceased, at home, by wife, upon her return from business trip," Sonny answered him after glancing at the chart.
"Age?"
"Forty-four."
"I bet you three kegs of Coors, heart attack," Tony said.
"Wife away, the husband did play, too bad the old bud couldn't stay."
"You both are disgusting," Jenny Sue mumbled.
"And you love us both," they echoed together.
"In your dreams," she retorted.
"Well, Mr. Fed a la the dead ain't going anywhere and my tum-tum is saying feed me," Sonny said.
"Might as well. We'll be here with him the rest of the evening," Tony said.
"You want anything, sweet cheeks?" Sonny asked Jenny Sue who had now returned to her computer and was clacking away at the keyboard.
"Maybe some holy water and a stake," she quipped.
"Chicken," Tony teased.
"Woohooo," Sonny moaned, trying to be a ghost.
"It isn't any wonder you don't keep a girl any longer than one night, if that's what you sound like," Jenny Sue told him. "Scat, go eat. Then get back here and dispense with the Fed. I tell ya, I don't like it, he's bad news."
"He's dead, girl. He ain't hurting anything. You've been watching too many of those weird movies on that crazy sci-fi channel again."
Jenny Sue ignored them both, obviously more interested in refilling her printer with greenbar paper and singing Like A Virgin. If she noticed them slip out of the room, she didn't acknowledge it.