Memory Lapse: A Slater Vance Novel (8 page)

“Looking
for a bullet hole.”

Slater looked down at the
floor where he’d lain, thought about the level of his arm when he’d fired his
gun,
then
followed that trajectory with his eyes. He
walked to the glass doors, swung open the one not being stenciled, and moved to
the opposite wall of the hall facing his office. Up high in the wood trim, next
to the emergency light, was a small rugged hole. He winced at the pull of
muscles as he dug into his pocket for his pocketknife. He flipped the blade
open and winced again as he stretched up to gouge the hole. Out popped a
flattened bullet. As he stared at it, he glanced down and followed the trail
back to his door slowly. A small smile crossed his lips. He’d hit the sucker!
The bullet obviously hadn’t hit anything vital as the man walked away, but he’d
hit him. Bending down, his finger traced the smear of blood left on the carpet
outside his office door. With his pocketknife, he cut the section of carpet out
with the smear of blood on it. Reaching into his pocket for the evidence bag he
always carried, he stuffed the carpet into the bag and sealed it tight.

Turning to Bennie, he
said, “Hey, can you make sure Bridge gets this? Thanks.”

◊◊◊

“Okay… Mike said he’d be
by today but it would be late to install the new alarms and cameras. You will
need to wait on him… are you listening to me?” Bennie asked irritably.

“Yeah, yeah, Mike… here
late…
have
to wait…” Slater answered distractedly.

“Well, look at me when I
talk to you. I’m not moving my lips for the satisfaction of hearing my own
voice,” she admonished.

From his prone position
on the couch, Slater opened his weary, drug-induced eyes to Bennie’s. “Sorry,
Benn, had to take something for the ribs, there were killing me.”

Bennie lifted a hand up,
dismissing his words. “I don’t want to hear it. Both your brother and I tried
to get you to go the doctor, but
nooo
, you wouldn’t
hear of it. You know so much more than the rest…”

“Okay, okay, I get It, I
get it… you were right, I was wrong,” he winced.

Bennie paused at his
quick acquiescence to her words. “Wow, you must really be in pain. Do you want
me to call the doc?”

“Nope, I’ll be fine.”
Noticing for the first time her purse slung over her shoulder, he asked, “Is it
quitting time already?”

Bennie lifted her eyes to
the ceiling. “Give me strength,” she said. As if speaking to a child, she
replied slowly, “No, I have to leave early to attend my sister’s wedding. I
told you this yesterday… I told you this again this morning. Now, where am I
going?”

Slater rolled his eyes at
her. “Oh yeah, I forgot. Sorry, I have a lot on my mind. Have a good time…
hope
you catch the bouquet… or the garter… as the case may
be.”

“Don’t be a smartass…
like I need a man.” Bennie moved towards the door and then turned and said in a
more serious tone, “Don’t get
yourself
killed while
I’m gone. Okay, Slick?”

Slater gave her a quick
grin. “Insurance policy is in the safety deposit box at the bank. Don’t
worry,
it’s in your name.”

“
Umph
,
it’s the least you can do.” And with that, Bennie walked out the door.

As promised, Mike came
late and installed the alarm on the glass doors, as well as adding additional
cameras. These cameras weren’t tied to his system and operated manually into
themselves. Now if someone broke in and turned off his main system, hopefully,
he could still get them on camera. Once Mike was done and had collected his
huge after-hours fee, Slater dragged his tired, sore body back
home,
thankful this day was finally done.

Chapter 5

Slater was rudely jarred
from sleep yet again. Opening his bleary eyes, he was surprised to see how high
the sun was up in the sky. He glanced at his bedside clock and discovered it
was after nine o’clock.

Without reading the
display, he grabbed his phone and answered, “Slater Vance.”

“Hey, Pretty-Boy, I’ve
got a situation I think you should know about.”

Slater winced at hearing
both Thompson
Bridges’s
voice and words, as he sat up
quickly.
“What’s going on, Bridge?”

“It’s your brother. Now,
let me say I think he’ll be fine, but he was just taken to Bay General.”

“What the hell are you
talking about?” Slater ignored the pain in his ribs as he raised his voice in
alarm. Then dropping his voice into almost a whisper, he asked, “Was… was he
involved in a car accident?”

“No, oh, God no, Slate,
sorry I didn’t think about that. But listen, I think you need to meet your
brother at the hospital. Once you’re done there, we need to talk… there’s been
a… we have a situation.”

“Well just tell me what
it is,” Slater said, rubbing a hand through his short, brown hair.

“No, I think you need to
see to your brother first then we’ll talk, Okay?”

“Are you coming to the
hospital?”

“No, meet me at my office
after you’ve seen your brother.”

“Bridge, should I be
concerned?” Slater asked him haltingly.

“Concerned about your
brother… no; concerned about the situation… possibly,” Bridge answered
cryptically.

◊◊◊

Slater made it to the
hospital and rushed into the emergency room to find his brother sitting calmly
next to an older woman. He was holding her hand with his head bowed. The
adrenaline which had poured through his body since Bridge’s call turned
instantly into fury. He’d been picturing his brother lying on a gurney, dying
of God-knows-what, only to find him here calmly praying. What was the deal?

Slater stood where he was
until he saw his brother’s head
raise
and watched him
smile gently at the woman. Slater watched him make the familiar sign of the
cross in front of his body. Taking a deep breath, Slater moved towards his
brother.

Tucker rose when he saw
Slater approaching. It was at that point, Slater realized several things all at
once: Tucker wasn’t dressed in his customary uniform of black, but was in
jeans; Tucker winced when he rose, and finally Slater could see the side of
Tucker’s face which had been hidden from him previously.

“What the hell happened
to you?” Slater asked with his fists balled at his side.

“Looks like the same
thing that happened to you,” Tucker smiled crookedly.

Tucker raised a hand to
gently touch Slater’s face. “Ouch, that looks like it hurts.”

Slater was immediately
humbled at Tucker’s concern for him above his own hurt.

Slater grabbed his
brother and gave him a quick hug before replying gruffly, “I’m fine.”

He stepped back and took
in the swollen eye and black and blue bruising on the side of Tucker’s face.

“Have you seen the doctor
yet?” Slater asked him.

“I could ask you the same
thing.”

“Not now, Tucker,” Slater
said tersely.

“No, I’m on the list.
What are you doing here? Are
you
here
to see the doctor?” Tucker asked the last question incredulously, knowing
Slater’s adversity to doctors and hospitals.

“No, Bridge called me and
said you’d been brought here. What the hell happened, Tuck?”

Tucker glanced around and
smiled in apology for Slater’s foul language.

“Let’s sit over there,”
Tucker said, pointing to a couple of seats a little further away from the
others.

Sitting down impatiently,
Slater again rubbed his hand over his head. Gritting his teeth, Slater said
again, as patiently as he could manage, “What happened, Tuck?”

Tucker winced as he sat
down, placed his elbows on the chair’s arms and
steepled
his fingers together before leaning his face against them. Blowing out a
breath, he said, “You’re not going to like this… but understand I didn’t have a
choice, okay?”

Slater’s eyes blinked
rapidly and he raised his hands, palms opened, and asked impatiently, “What?”

Tucker sighed and looked
away from Slater’s penetrating gaze.

“Yesterday, Honey was
released from the hospital. As she didn’t have any place to go…”

“Please tell me she
didn’t stay with you,” Slater asked, exasperated.

“Oh no,” Tucker said,
quickly smiling. “No, no. That would be inappropriate. No, I took her to the
church shelter. But unfortunately, there really weren’t any open beds there, so
I kind of made her up a place to sleep… in my office,” Tucker finished out his sentence
haltingly,
knowingly Slater wasn’t going to like what
he said.

Slater took a deep
breath, and using the agony the movement caused his ribs to gain control, he
said slowly and evenly, “Okay… then what?”

“Well, this morning, I’d
gone to take her some food and to check on her when some guy I didn’t know
slammed into me, wanting to know where she was. I didn’t feel I could lie, so I
said nothing and he punched me.”

With his eyes blinking
even more rapidly, Slater said, “Okay, let me get this straight, some guy busts
into a church shelter
and attacks a
priest
?”

“No, he didn’t know I was
a priest, I was dressed like this… it’s my day off.”

With sarcasm dripping
from his lips, Slater responded, “Oh, well, that’s different then, yeah, that
makes it okay… what the hell do you mean you couldn’t
lie
?
Of course you can. You just open your lips and say, ‘I don’t know to whom you
are inferring.’ Or, ‘I don’t have the foggiest damn idea.’ See? Easy.”

Tucker sat calmly with
his hands folded in his lap giving his brother an encouraging ‘
it’ll be okay
’ smile.

Slater felt frustration
roll over him as harshly
as a tidal-wave rolls
over a
small village. “Who was this guy?”

“I don’t know
,
the police were there when I left. I’d never seen him
before.”

Again Slater rubbed a hand
through his hair, turning to lean forward with his elbow on his knees. With his
face buried in his hands, he said softly, “Jesus Christ, Tuck, you could have
been seriously hurt. The guy could have had a gun. You could have been killed…
all because of that woman.”

Tucker laid a comforting
hand on his brother’s shoulder. “But I wasn’t. And Slate, it wasn’t her fault,
she is not to blame. I’m fine and she has no one, Slate, no one. I have to help
her.”

Turning his head to
glance at his brother before turning away again, Slater said quietly, “I
thought when Bridge first called me… it was just like mom and dad… like Anne
and Sophie… I don’t want to go through that again, Tuck.”

Wrapping his arm around
Slater, Tucker said just as quietly, “I’m so sorry, Slate… so very sorry.”

Their bubble of
brotherhood was interrupted by the nurse calling Tucker’s name. With one last
squeeze of his hand, Tucker rose and followed the nurse with Slater tagging
behind.

◊◊◊

Slater walked into the CPD
a little after two in the afternoon. It’d been a long couple of days and he was
tired. He lifted a hand in greeting to several people he knew, some personally,
some professionally. Weaving his way to Bridge’s desk, Slater stopped to snag a
cup of the foulest coffee he’d ever tasted. He thought he’d never say this, but
he missed Bennie. Now, that woman knew how to make a mean cup of
joe
. She liked all those fancy
coffees and Slater frowned at the thought,
I
must be getting soft,
because by golly, he liked them too.

Slater sat back in the
chair across from Bridge and quietly sipped the foul excuse for coffee and
waited for him to finish his call.

“Hey, Pretty-Boy, what
the hell happened to your face… you
don’t
look so
pretty right now? Bridge asked, smiling.

“Propositioned the wrong
woman, I guess,” Slater smirked.

“It wasn’t Bennie, was
it?” Bridge deadpanned then busted out laughing at the stunned expression on
Slater’s face.

“How’s the Father?”
Bridge asked more seriously with obvious concern once his laughter subsided.

“He’s fine, dumb as dirt…
but fine.”

“Good, glad to hear it.
I’m surprised he didn’t come with you. There were a couple of things I needed
him to sign.”

With a roll of his eyes,
Slater said, “Please. Are you kidding me? Once the doctor declared him good to
go, Tuck decided that as long as he was already at the hospital, he should make
his rounds. It’s his day off and he wants to make rounds… he was just attacked
and he wants to make rounds…” Slater couldn’t hide his frustration, nor did he try
very hard.

“Good
ol
’
Friar Tuck. They broke the mold after they made him, huh?” Bridge smiled.

“Sure did. Now, maybe you
can tell me who the guy was who hit my brother,
the Father
, in a church no less.”

With a frown marring his
features, Bridge replied, “Well, obviously the
perp
was gone by the time we got there, but from what we can gather, it was Zeke
Zagoria
. He was there looking for Honey. Fortunately for
her, he didn’t actually find her… thanks to your brother.”

Sitting back hard enough
to splash his coffee, Slater blanched at the thought of what could have
happened with someone as dangerous as Zeke
Zagoria
.
Damn his brother for getting involved with that woman! Damn her for dragging
Tuck into her disastrous mess!

“I don’t have to tell
you, this is dangerous business. I’m concerned about the connection your
brother has with Honey Luscious. I don’t think he’s safe,” Bridge continued.

“I agree. But what can I
do? I have to tell you, Bridge, I don’t think this woman is Honey Luscious.
Yesterday, I mean, the day before yesterday, I found a suitcase in the ravine
off the accident site which I think belongs to that woman. The clothes in the
case weren’t what you’d expect to find for a hooker. I also found a picture of
this woman holding a small baby, like a hospital photo. Have you had any luck
finding anything about this Honey Luscious? I mean the
real
Honey Luscious?”

“No,
not yet.
Maybe we
could get ZZ Top to identify her for us?” Bridge said, grinning.

“Yes, please ask him to
come to
my
office for a little chat.
That’d make me feel so much better,” Slater said smoothly and vindictively.

“And me as well… and me
as well,” Bridge agreed wholeheartedly.
 

“I don’t have to tell
you, man, that you’ve got to talk to your brother about moving that woman out
of the shelter… or his office… or wherever he has her stashed,” Bridge said
emphatically.

“Humph,” Slater grunted.

In Slater’s experience,
it would easier to illicit classified information out of Iraqi freedom fighters
than persuade his brother to abandon his latest stray. Well, there was always
more than one way to skin a cat. Fine, his brother wanted personal involvement;
he’d give him personal involvement.

◊◊◊

Slater bounded up the stone
steps of the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist. The original church on this
site had been built in 1854, but destroyed by fire in 1861. The beautiful
edifice now standing was constructed out of Connecticut tool-chiseled
brownstone, and housed within those walls were unique stained-glass windows,
pews constructed of Flemish oak, and the three original altars constructed of
white Vermont marble. People from all over the world came to visit this church,
to sit and absorb the peace and tranquility exuded by the old building.

Normally, Slater liked to
stop and visit the gardens when he came here, as he found them somewhat
peaceful; but not today. He was a man on a mission, a secret mission of sorts,
and he wanted to be in and out before his brother returned from the hospital.
His brother was not going to be happy with this turn of events, but if Slater
played it just right, and everything fell into place, his brother wouldn’t have
any reason to point a finger at him.

Slater paused when he
reached the church’s entrance. Blowing a deep breath through his lips, he
reached out a hand – surprised to find it trembling a bit – and depressed the
door handle’s lever. Pulling the door open wide enough to enter, he slipped
into the church. It was dim in the old building, lit only by a few low-watt
bulbs and the sunlight streaming in through the magnificent stained-glass
windows. He paused long enough to admire the 14 large two-light windows which
depicted the life of Christ from birth to his ascension; as well as Leonardo
DaVinci’s
Last Supper. Even if you were like him and
doubted a higher deity, it was utterly beautiful and inspiring.

The church hadn’t changed
at all from the time of his childhood. He wished he could say that coming into
the church of his youth brought him comfort, but the fact of the matter was,
every dire circumstance of his life ended in this church in one way or the
other. He tried to avoid being here at all costs. But this wasn’t about him, it
was about Tucker.

Out of respect for his
brother, Slater paused within the door and waved his hands over his chest in
the age-old obligatory sign of the cross. Slipping between the old oak pews and
the paneled wall, he made his way to the back of the church and headed to
Tucker’s office/study. Knocking softly, he waited until he heard a very shaky
“come in” before turning the doorknob and entering.

He found Honey Luscious
as she’d been at the hospital, in her wheelchair, staring vacantly out the
window. She lifted frightened eyes to his and then what she said next
completely blew him away.

“Oh, thank God! I’m so
glad you’re here. You have to help me get away from here. Someone came here, a
man, looking for me. He hurt your brother. They took him to the hospital. They
said he’ll be okay. But I need you to help me get away from here before he
returns. I can’t stand the thought of him getting hurt because of me.
If I am…
Honey Luscious, then I deserve… whatever, but not
your brother. You’ve got to help me.” She had to take several deep breaths once
she finished her long tirade.

Slater felt some of the
wind blown out of his sails. He’d come here expecting a fight but now was
grappling with feelings of being off-kilter.

In all fairness, he
replied softly, “I don’t really think you’re Honey Luscious. I’m not sure why you
had her car, but I really…”

She held up a hand to
interrupt him. “It doesn’t matter whether I am or I’m not, I can’t be here.
Someone else apparently thinks I am. Surely, there’s some other shelter I can
go to… somewhere away from Tuck.”

Slater took in her pale
yellow cotton shift dress, which fell around her casted arm and leg,
recognizing it from the suitcase he’d returned to her.

“How
long before those casts come off?”

She gave a small shake of
her head as if the question irreverent. “I don’t know, a couple weeks.”

Slater heaved a sigh, and
as was his habit when frustrated or stressed, he rubbed a hand over his short,
bristly, brown hair.

With a grimace, he said
haltingly, “Unfortunately, the shelters don’t want you in their establishments
because well… of… for reasons…”

“Because they think I’m a
hooker?” she said with a bitter laugh. Then under her breath, she muttered,
“Great.”

“I told Tuck I’d be happy
to put you up in a hotel for a few days,” he said.

Both of them jerked
towards the door when Tucker said, “What is going on here? Slate, why are you
here?”

Slater watched his gentle
brother’s countenance flash to fury and his face flush.

“Slater
Roman Vance!
I
told you it wasn’t her fault. You have no right to come and try to bully this
poor woman. Where is your compassion? What? You couldn’t find any puppies to
kick and so you decided to come here and take your frustrations out on this
poor girl? Hasn’t she been through enough?”

“It wasn’t like that,
Father, I… I asked him to come. I’m… I don’t want you involved in… my
situation,” she said shamefaced at lying to a priest.

Tucker laid a hand over
his chest, “Oh, Honey. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. We’ll figure something
out. And don’t think you have to defend my brother. Unlike you at this moment, he
can take care of himself. And I seriously doubt we have anything more to worry
about with

Mr.
Zagoria
.
I’m sure the police will do periodic drive-
bys
to
check on us. Besides,
Zagoria
doesn’t really know for
a fact you’re here. And we’re not absolutely certain it was
Zargora
.
It’s all speculation at this point.”

Honey lifted pained and
pleading eyes up to Slater.

Slater laid his hand on
his brother’s arm. “Tuck, I think it’s best if I take her to a hotel. If you’re
not concerned about your safety, think about hers. You might not be here next
time
Zagoria
or whoever comes back…” he left the
sentence dangling.

“Slate, if Honey wasn’t
incapacitated, I might agree with you. But I think for now,
it’s
best she stays here. I’ve been putting out feelers to try and find a better
situation for her, but now, I do believe this is what’s best. It will only be
for a little while,” he said patiently.

“Father, I don’t want to
stay in your office. I’m not comfortable here. I demand you let me leave,” Honey
said forcibly and determined.

“Oh, Honey, I see right
through your words. I’m not going to desert you or allow you go through this
alone. It’s not only your bones that are broken,” Tucker said gently.

“Tucker, is there nothing
I can say to change your mind?” Slater implored with his hands lifted palm-side
up.

“It’s only for a little
while. It’ll be fine, I promise.”

Chapter 6

For the third morning in
a row, Slater was jarred from sleep. Glancing at the ancient clock-radio
besides his bed, he saw the red glow of the time in the pre-dawn darkness. Who
would be calling him at four o’clock in the morning? He immediately squelched
the sense of doom and panic which wanted to flare. He reached over and grabbed
his phone and looked at the display which said it was an unknown caller.

“Slater Vance,” he said
gruffly.

“Hey Pretty-Boy, I think
you need to get your butt over here to the church. It’s been fire-bombed,”
Thompson Bridges said in a rush.

Slater sat up with a
start, his earlier panic coming back with a vengeance.

“Was anyone hurt?” Slater
asked.

“No, no. Sorry, I should
have led with that, there’s just a lot of damage. I just think your brother
could use the support.”

“Was it
Zagoria
?” Slater asked.

“We don’t know for
certain, but I’d say that’s a pretty good guess. I brought a picture of
Zagoria
by late yesterday to Friar Tuck and he positively
identified him as his attacker. We’ve put a BOLO out on him, but haven’t found
him yet.”

“I’m on my way,” Slater
said.