Blue Molly (Danny Logan Mystery #5) (18 page)

“Hi, Pri,” I said.

She smiled. “Hi, Danny. You’re a lucky guy.”

I smiled. “In more ways than one.”

She grabbed my hand and shook her head. “You guys worry me, you know? You gotta be more careful.”

“We try.”

She smiled again and this time, it didn’t feel right—no sincerity in it. She looked at Kanda and nodded.

“Mr. Logan,” he said. “Close call, eh?”

“Yeah, it was.” I couldn’t nod—I’d been strapped into a neck brace. “So, how’d I check out?”

“Well, the good news is that you are very fit. Most impressive. That probably helped you today. Nothing is broken, and there appear to be no internal injuries. The ringing in your ears will most likely subside within a few days. I know your shoulder hurts—you suffered a mild separation. Fortunately, the MRI shows no sign of ligament damage. Your recovery should be swift.”

“That sounds good.” I looked at Pri, and I saw right away that there was more. “So what’s the bad news?”

“Well, I’m afraid that given your history of concussions sustained by several blows to the head, we’ve decided that it would be best if we keep you here overnight for observation. Just so we can keep an eye on you.”

“Oh. Well, sorry. Can’t do that. I’ve got plans. Besides, I don’t think I hit my head.”

Pri nodded. “Yes, you did. You may not have knocked yourself silly the way it’s happened in the past, but you definitely hit your head. You have contusions all over the side of your face, so I can assure you that you definitely hit your head on something.”

“He hit the side of a car,” Toni said. “With his head. Dented the hell out of it.”

“See?” Pri said. “There you are. We’ve consulted with our radiologist. She found no sign of either subdural or epidural hematoma. That’s good—you’re in the clear there. But still, I’m not taking any chances with a potential head injury, especially for someone with your history. You have to spend the night with us so we can keep an eye on you. You can go home tomorrow.”

I objected, of course. Vehemently. I had plans. But in the end, the decision was made when Toni sided with the docs. This pissed me off a little bit—she knew about everything I’d set up; she was part of it. Yet she didn’t seem all that eager to fight for it. I suppose I could have just said, “To hell with all of you—I’m going home,” but I didn’t. Two reasons: First, there’d be no living with Toni, and that was the opposite of what I’d hoped for on Valentine’s Day in the first place. And second, well, maybe I was just the tiniest bit worried that Pri might be onto something. I felt fine, aside from my shoulder, but with a head injury, who knew? So I stayed.

Dwayne and Gus showed up a few minutes later, followed by Doc, Kenny, Richard, and Bobby. We already had a full house, so the guys dragged some more chairs in when Miguel and Steve walked in just before 6:00 p.m. The look on Miguel’s face said that he had news, and that it wasn’t good.

“I’m afraid we struck out with the surveillance videos,” he said.

“What? No coverage?”

“No, there was coverage alright. Cameras all over the place. It’s just that there was nothing on any of them.”

“Really? How could that be?”

“We got hold of four separate tapes,” Steve said. “All of them mounted on doorways or on the sides of the buildings, and all of them covering the lot. We went through ’em frame by frame. They all agree with each other and together, they make a pretty full picture. You roll up, you leave, you come back. No one else ever approaches the Jeep or the car next to it the whole time it was there.”

“Well, somebody put a bomb on it,” I said. “It didn’t just spontaneously detonate.”

Miguel nodded. “Obviously. Whoever set it? They didn’t do it in the parking lot. It was already in place when you drove up and parked. Somebody planted it earlier and triggered it remotely by cell phone.”

I nodded, stared out the window for a bit, and then it hit me. “That would explain what they were doing last night. They planted it right there in our parking lot.”

“What happened?” Miguel asked.

Toni explained about our late-night visitor.

“Funny thing,” Toni said. “After last night, we decided we were going on offense. We weren’t going to sit around and let Laskin dictate the way the game played out anymore.”

“Looks like he beat you to the punch,” Dwayne said.

I nodded. “He did. Guy doesn’t waste much time. But the thing is? He failed. I’m still tickin’. And now I’m pissed.”

“Damn straight,” Miguel said. “Me, too. This is bullshit. You get out tomorrow, right? What say you rest up over the weekend, then we get together first thing Monday and map out a new strategy. I’m about tired of Laskin making us all look like idiots.”

“Security question, meanwhile,” Toni said. “I’ll be staying right here with Danny. But I’m wondering if we can get SPD to station a man outside?”

“Hell, I’ll stay here myself if I have to,” Gus said.

I smiled. “Thanks, man. Maybe we’d better get someone a little younger, though, in case there’s an actual fight.”

“Oh, you bastard,” he said, jumping up. “Let me come over there and bust up that other shoulder.”

* * * *

I woke up at one thirty in the morning when a nurse came in to check on me. She was quiet and only stayed a minute, then she left. Pri had arranged it so that Toni could stay in my room. She was sleeping on the bed beside me, her holster hanging over the bed rail. Between the two of them, Miguel and Dwayne had prevailed upon SPD to provide a uniformed patrolman who was stationed right outside my door, so I felt safe enough.

Without a doubt, this was most definitely
not
the way I’d seen Valentine’s Day playing out. It was supposed to be perfect. Instead, it had turned into a complete and epic mess. But we were still alive, and that’s what really mattered. Laskin had taken a shot at us, and he’d failed. Come Monday, it would be our turn.

As Pri had promised, just after lunch the next day, the hospital released me with a more or less clean bill of health: clean from the perspective of head injury—there wasn’t any—but still recovering in regard to my shoulder. Doc and Kenny helped Toni retrieve her car (buddy system), then she scooped me up and drove me home. I spent the next day and a half in bed. I got up mostly to eat, go to the bathroom, or to do the shoulder exercises I’d been prescribed. Lazing around like this would normally make me feel really guilty, if not drive me completely crazy. But I had to admit, my condition being what it was, lazing around and getting fussed over by Toni wasn’t a bad way to spend a weekend.

By the time Monday rolled around, I was feeling pretty good. The ringing in my ears had mostly subsided, and although I was still bruised, the swelling in my face was barely noticeable. Even my shoulder was feeling better—not all the way healed, but better. Of course I couldn’t go running because we were still on the buddy system, and besides, I don’t run on Mondays anyway, but Toni graciously agreed to accompany me on a little walk around the neighborhood. After several days cooped up inside, it felt great to get out and get some fresh Pacific Northwest air.

We rolled into the office at 8:00 a.m. sharp. At 8:30 a.m., I received a bouquet of get-well flowers from my dad’s law office. At 8:45 a.m., I got another one from the Sylvia Lyon Gallery (I could hear Libby’s accent as I read the card). And at 9:00 a.m., I had yet another surprise when Rico Maroni walked in.

“Dude,” he said. “What happened to your face?”

I looked at him with an evil eye. “What do you want?”

He raised his hands. “Hey, don’t get pissed at me. I don’t want any trouble. I just wanted to talk to Toni.”

“Well, let’s just see if she wants to talk to you.” I punched in her intercom and put her on speakerphone. It rang twice, then she answered. “Hey,” I said. “You’ll never guess who’s here to see you this fine Monday morning.”

“I know who’s here; I saw him walk up the stairs. Tell him I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Well, as it turns out, you’re on speakerphone.” I glanced up at Rico. “He can hear every word you say.”

The phone line clicked dead.

“Whoa, dude,” I said. “She said she didn’t want to talk to you, and it looks like she damn well meant it.”

“But . . . but . . .” he started to say. He never got a chance to finish, because Toni’s door burst open and she came charging out, all in the same motion. She marched right up to Rico.

“What do you want, Rico?” she demanded. “I’m busy. We’re all busy with important work now. We don’t have time or energy or the inclination to screw around with you.”

“Well . . .” he said, meekly, “I wanted to know if you liked my flowers?”

“No! I didn’t like them. I didn’t ask for them; I didn’t want them. In fact,” she leaned toward him. “I threw ’em away.”

“Threw ’em . . . those were . . . they cost . . . you threw them away? Really?”

She gave a curt little nod. “Yes. Tossed ’em straight into the trash. I don’t want them. Listen to me: I’m out of patience now. I’m not open to any kind of romantic proposal or gesture from you. Not now. Not ever. That door is closed. Got it?” She took another step toward him. “And another thing we’re about done with is you following me, you hanging around in the parking lot like a little creep, certainly you sending me flowers. I’ve been nice, and Danny’s been really patient up to now. But after this moment, all that’s over. Don’t come around anymore—don’t let me see you anywhere around me. If we were to even accidentally bump into each other at say, the DMV or something, I’m gonna just assume it’s no accident and that it’s something you’ve planned. Know what I’m going to do if that happens? Even by accident?” She stepped right up to him. He tried to step back, but the sofa blocked him. “I’m going to take you out. And Rico, you know damn well I can do it. So listen: Leave. Me. Alone. Get it?”

He stared at her for a minute, then he nodded. “But I need your help.”

She quickly held up her index finger. “No! No, you don’t. What you need to do is you need to march your ass straight on out of here.”

“Toni, I’m broke! I need a job. I figure I can help you guys out around here. I know things that could be really useful to you.”

Toni completely froze in place, her mouth open in surprise.

I raised my good hand. “Excuse me.” Toni and Rico both looked at me. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll do you one better, you being down on your luck and all. I’ll give you one thousand dollars. Cash money. Right here, right now. In exchange, you pack up and leave. Kind of like a little contract thing. But I mean really leave. Leave Seattle. For good. We never see you again.”

“A thousand dollars?” Rico said, clearly intrigued by my offer.

I nodded. “Yep.” I reached for my wallet. I was still cash-heavy from the dinner that never happened.

“Wait!” Toni yelled. “Bullshit on that!” She reached over and spun Rico around and arm-barred him until he yelled and had to stand on his tippy-toes. “I’ve got a better idea. We’re not giving this little shit anything. Come here, you.” She proceeded to march him straight back out the front door, but instead of turning to go back toward the stairs, she propelled him straight at the rail, driving him forward and bending him over in midair, twenty-some feet above the parking lot below.

“Hey!” Rico cried.

“You thought I was kidding, right?” she yelled. “Well, here’s the real deal—and it’s the only goddamned deal you’re gonna get, so you damn well better pay attention.”

“I am! I am!”

“You agree to march your ass downstairs, get in your car, drive away, and leave. I never see you again. And you agree right now. Otherwise, I let go of you and you swan-dive to the pavement.”

He hesitated. “You’d never do that.”

“Oh yeah?” Toni grabbed him by the back of the belt with her free arm and tugged him right up off the ground.

Holy shit, she’s gonna do it!

I ran over to her and grabbed her.

“Let me go!” she said.

“No!” Rico yelled. “Don’t let her go!”

“Toni!” I yelled. She turned to look at me. “That’s enough.”

Rico, bent over the rail as he was, couldn’t see either of us. But Toni turned and gave me a quick smile and a wink.

“I don’t know, Danny,” she said, grinning. “I don’t believe him. I think he’s going to be back.”

“No!” he yelled. “I’m leaving. For good.”

“Let him go, Toni,” I said.

“Promise me now, Rico, else I drop you!”

“I promise! I promise!”

“Satisfied?” I asked.

“Okay.” She hauled him back on the safe side of the rail.

“Get out of here,” I said.

And he did. He took off at a full sprint down the balcony, down the stairs, through the parking lot, and to his car. He burned rubber leaving, turned north on Westlake, and zoomed away.

Toni started cracking up. “Oh, Jesus, that was funny.”

I looked at her. “Funny? That was funny? You’re a crazy lady, you know that?”

She gave me a sly smile. “Don’t forget it.”

* * * *

We went back inside and, less than a minute later, Miguel and Steve walked in. “What the hell was that all about?” Miguel asked. “We saw when we were driving up. Were you dangling somebody off the balcony?”

I waved my good arm and then pointed to Toni. “Not me, Officer. She was. Seems she has a past life that doesn’t want to stay in the past. And she has a . . . call it a unique way of dealing with it.”

“Yeah,” Toni said. “I was just clearing up a nagging problem.” She smiled. “Don’t worry. I think it’s taken care of now.”

Miguel nodded slowly. “O-h-h k-a-y,” he said. “I’ll have to remember that method, although I’ve got to say, I’m not sure it’s entirely legal.”

“That’s okay,” Toni said. “There’s
nothing
that little bastard does that’s even remotely legal.”

“Fair enough,” Miguel said. “Stay out of trouble, will ya? It’ll look bad if our little public-private deal here gets screwed up because you murdered an ex-boyfriend.”

“Husband,” I said. She immediately fired a hard right cross, straight into my injured arm.