CHAPTER 8

Gregory Ashford had been awake for a while but had kept his eyes closed. As someone who had been shot before he knew that part of the pain that he was feeling was normal. He knew that he had been shot in his right side and as he tried to take stock of his situation the realization that he couldn't feel anything from his waist down scared the hell out of him. He heard someone enter the room in the ICU but didn't open his eyes. If they thought he was still unconscious he might be able to slip out and get away…but the fact that no matter how hard he tried he couldn't move his toes was definitely going to slow him down. Maybe it's got something to do with what they knocked me out with for surgery. Trying to remain calm, he began planning out his escape but noticed that whoever had entered the room hadn't left. Carefully he tried to open one eye and take a peek.

"Told ya he was playin' possum."

Closing the eye again he continued to try to fake unconsciousness. He knew the voice. It's that Houston dude. What in the hell was he doing there?

"Ya know Ashford…" The voice got closer. "You're not a very good actor at all. Is that why you set fire to the theaters? Or did you do it for Naomi?"

There was another voice then - the cop. "Now Houston, he might be out…but his breathing sure picked up when you talked to him." The sarcasm was clear in the lieutenant's voice. "You know they say people in comas can hear you."

"Uh huh." The sound of furniture moving closer to the bed, dragging across the floor and giving a metallic screeching sound that grated on the nerves was tormenting to Ashford. "Guess I'll just have a seat here and keep him company. Maybe talk to him a little bit…maybe tell him about Naomi..." Matt winked at Hoyt as the man's breathing increased again. "Do you reckon she officially broke up with him? 'Cause when he was in interrogation he just didn't seem to believe it, ya know?"

"What do they say – "love is blind"?" Hoyt moved over to the other side of the bed and drug over the stool that the nurses used when working at the computer terminal in the room. "He must sure be in love to be as blind as he is."

"Or he could just be stupid. I mean it's not like he's the first guy to ever get used by a woman…certainly won't be the last that Naomi uses…seeing as how she's going to be getting off scot-free – dumb bastard. Ya know, even if he does live – prison is gonna be mighty interesting for a guy in a wheelchair." Matt saw the man swallow hard and looked at Hoyt who nodded.

"And with the prison realignment deal that's going on, God only knows where he would end up. But I guess death row is death row, right?"

"I'd say for someone in his condition being anywhere inside a prison is death row." Houston stared at Ashford's face as his breathing increased yet again. "With two murder cases – possibly three – it's a given he's gonna end up there."

"True. You know, nobody really cares. Naomi sure doesn't. She's still got Mama and Daddy's money and her freedom. The only one to get screwed is Ashford." He watched as the man's eyes jerked open.

"Would you looka there? And they say miracles never happen…" Matt leaned forward. "Did we help pull you back from the great beyond, Ashford? See any lights or angels…or the devil by chance?" He gave an evil smile as the arsonist turned his head toward him, a murderous look in his eyes. "How ya feelin'?" There was no reply, just the look. "I'll try to help you out…let's see: used, stupid, screwed over…help me out here, Michael."

"Let's see…no, I think you about covered it. I can't imagine him feeling anything else…especially from the waist down." Michael also got an evil look from Ashford as his head snapped around. "That's good…you can move your neck."

"He can't move his hands, though." Houston chuckled as the man jerked his arms in an attempt to move them, but found that he was in restraints. "You didn't really think they'd let a murderer be able to move his only means of escape didja?" The head snapped back over to Matt.

"Go to hell."

"I might…but I'm sure you'll be there to hold the door for me if I do, won't you?"

"I don't have to say anything to you – either one of you. Get out." He closed his eyes again, trying in vain to move his legs.

"Gonna make us?" Hoyt leaned in closer.

"You son of a bitch!" Ashford tried to move his arms against the restraints.

"Careful now: you act all perky and they'll go ahead and ship you to the jail." The PI chuckled as he saw the look of fear on Ashford's face. "Now…" His voice dropped down to just above a whisper and got the gravelly tone to it, the smile left his face, leaving his eyes looking like two black orbs. "…if you've got any sense at all you'll tell us about Naomi's part in all this." There wasn't a response. "If you don't speak up this whole thing is going on you: the fires for starters and then you've got the charge for murdering your aunt, you shot and killed your lawyer, you shot a cop…" He paused momentarily as tears started flowing from the man in the bed. "So you think I should feel sorry for you?" Ashford continued to cry. "Would you still want me to feel sorry for you if someone had died in one of those fires? Or if you had t-boned a car when you ran from us?" There was still no reply. "I don't feel sorry for you…and I won't. What happened was a direct result from your actions. Deal with it."

"She set it up." Gregory Ashford let out with a sob.

"And?" Michael sat back on the stool.

"Conley wanted to burn down the first theater and she told him she knew someone who would do it. I needed the money. So he paid me."

"Okay, what about the second one?"

"Naomi said that since we could get him in trouble for hiring me to do the first one we could blackmail him…threaten to do another, and another, until he paid. Then you would be looking at him." Ashford shuddered as he looked at Matt.

"And he didn't want to pay up?" Houston watched as the man nodded. "So you burnt the second to show him you two were serious?"

"He thought it was just me. Naomi didn't tell him it was her idea."

"How do they know each other?" Matt exchanged a look with Michael.

"They were having an affair - met at some country club." He shuddered again as he tried to bring himself under control.

"How did you and Naomi meet?"

"She was a customer…ecstasy." He closed his eyes again. "God, I screwed up. The bitch."

"Anything else?"

"No."

"I'll get a statement over here for you to sign…" He stood up, once again dragging the chair and making the irritating noise. "…and you better not change your mind and not sign it."

Leaving the room quietly, the two friends boarded the deserted elevator, Hoyt pushing the button for the lobby and patting Matt on the shoulder. "You did good."

"I can remember a time that it would have mortally wounded you to say that." Houston cut his eyes over at the cop, the familiar twinkle in them.

"Lousy PI's…" Hoyt mumbled and then popped him on the back of the head.

Three hours later as Matt sat on the couch in Hoyt's office watching a Chemistry lecture for his class, the lieutenant came through the door. "Ready to go pick 'em up?"

"Yup." The PI took note of where he was in the video and closed the laptop, putting it in the case and getting off of the couch. "Need to stop by the truck first."

"Okay, I'll wait for you." They took the stairs down and Matt popped the computer into his truck and removed the bulletproof vest, putting it on before sliding into the car. "Let's get Naomi first. Conley doesn't suspect a thing." Houston nodded. "This should be fun. I'm going to stop by the Beverly Hills Police Department and let them know that we're visiting again. The captain says we should play nice."

"Alright." They were quiet and the PI's phone buzzed. He had a text from CJ: Just picked up Tomás! He smiled and texted her back, telling her where they were headed, ending the message with Love you, Babe. The reply was nearly instant. Love you, be CAREFUL! Chuckling, he replied again. Yes ma'am.

"I can tell by the look on your face that's CJ." Hoyt snickered. "You two aren't sexting are you?"

"Not right now – she just picked up Tomás at the airport. But maybe we can later." The matter-of-fact reply had the intended result: Hoyt rolled his eyes and began muttering. "What would you do without me around to liven up things for you?" Houston laughed.

"Retire." And that's the truth.

Pulling into the driveway at the house on Cold Water Canyon, a Beverly Hills patrol car accompanying them, the two rolled out of the car and headed for the front door. Hoyt rang the bell and once again the door was answered by the housekeeper. Matt touched the brim of his cap. "Ma'am, we're here for Naomi." He held up the warrant. Resignedly, the older woman stepped back and held the door open for them. "Thank you, ma'am. Where is she?"

"Upstairs – third door on the right."

Nodding, Matt led the way in and up the stairs, his hand drifting down to release the strap on his holster and his hand resting on the butt of the Glock on his hip. Knocking on the door, he waited a minute with no response.

"We go in." Hoyt motioned to the officers to move to either side of the doorway.

Standing on the right side of the door, Matt used his left hand to turn the knob; it was locked. Taking a couple of steps back he kicked in the door and entered along with the other three officers, surprising not only Naomi, but the guest in her bed – none other than a naked Todd Conley who was struggling, trying to get free from the handcuffs that he and Naomi had obviously been using. "Would ya looka there, fellas? Two birds with one stone – and they already supplied one pair of handcuffs. Naomi Benson, Todd Conley – you're under arrest for arson – for a start." The expression of surprise and embarrassment on Conley's face was almost more than the PI could take without cracking up. He looked over at Hoyt.

"What're you waiting for? Slap the cuffs on her." Hoyt watched as his friend pulled the cuffs from the back of his gun belt and put them on a shocked and scantily clad Naomi Benson.

"You have the right to remain silent…"