Terminal (A Lomax & Biggs Mystery Book 5) (24 page)

“Not at all. In fact it would be the best possible outcome. Familial neutrophilia is genetic—an inherited mutation of the CFS3R gene.”

“Could you repeat that minus the mumbo and the jumbo?” I said.

He laughed. “Sorry. Less than two percent of Caucasians have
elevated white blood counts, but for them, it doesn’t indicate any infection. It’s normal. But it’s a hereditary condition. Have either of your parents ever mentioned it?”

“My mother died of congestive heart failure seven years ago, and my father would never talk about things like that.”

“I guess he’s one of those strong, silent, Clint Eastwood types.”

Diana laughed out loud. “Just the opposite. Mike’s father is an in-your-face, talk-your-ear-off, Donald Trump type, who is an expert on anything and everything.”

“There’s only two things he doesn’t talk about,” I said. “His golf score and his health. He’s six four, three hundred pounds, and he’d like the whole world to think he’s invincible. I know he’s had a few incidents of atrial fibrillation, but if there are any other skeletons in his closet he hasn’t told me.”

“Do you think he’d be willing to come in and go over his medical history with me?” Abordo asked.

“Willing? The man would jump at the chance to get involved in my personal life. I’ll have him call for an appointment. What do I do till then?”

“Same advice as last time. Enjoy your life, and this time may I add enjoy this wonderful woman and your new daughter.”

CHAPTER 64

DIANA WAITED UNTIL
we were in the parking lot before she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a teary-eyed hug. “Thank God,” she said.

“I’m not out of the woods yet,” I said.

She stepped back. “Mike, you’re out of the graveyard. Now call your father and ask him if he knows anything about this white blood cell condition.”

“Bad idea.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a touchy subject, and you can’t pin him down on the phone.
Gotta go, Mike, Angel needs me. Call you back, Mike, one of my trucks need a tow
. No thanks. It can wait till tonight. It’ll be harder for him to dodge the question if I catch him off guard, and I’m looking him straight in the eye.”

Terry pulled into the parking lot. “There’s your ride,” she said. Then she waved and gave him a thumbs-up.

I gave her the keys to my car, she kissed me goodbye, and got behind the wheel. “I love you,” she said.

“I love you too.” I watched her drive off, and I got into Terry’s car.

“Diana looked happy,” he said. “I’m guessing the doc gave you some good news.”

“Not exactly good, but promising. He’s hoping it’s some ge
netic blood disorder that’s not life threatening. I’m going to my father’s house tonight to see if I can dig into his complete medical history.”

“Sounds like a fun evening. Wish I could be there, but I’ll be out celebrating Egan Granville’s latest appointment as Secretary of Laundry at San Quentin State.”

“What’s the latest on our boy Egan?”

“I just spoke to Anna DeRoy on the way over here. He’s singing like Plácido Domingo on opening night at the Met, and he’s giving up everybody connected to the crime. There are at least a dozen more doctors across the country that Dunbar didn’t know about.”

When we got to the station Eileen Mulvey was waiting for us at the front desk. “Gentlemen,” she said, “have I told you lately how much I enjoy being your personal assistant?”

“It’s every cop’s dream job, Mulvey, and you’re lucky to have it,” Terry said. “What’ve you got?”

“A package and a warning.” She handed Terry a large box.

There was a note taped to it. He tore it open and read it. “
Detective Biggs, You were right about Granville, so while I’m eating crow, you can munch on these. Respectfully yours, Deputy Mayor Mel Berger
.”

He opened the box. It was a case of Skittles. He grabbed half a dozen bags and tossed them to Mulvey. “Congratulations. You just won Employee of the Month. Give one of them to Kilcullen. Tell him he was the runner-up. What’s the warning?”

“It’s for Lomax,” she said looking at me. “Your father is waiting for you in the squad room.”

“My father?”

“Large man, rather pushy, overbearing actually,” Mulvey said.

“That’s him. Did he say what he wants?”

“Yes. He wants you.” She pointed at the door, and Terry and I went inside.

Big Jim’s voice thundered across the squad room. “Where the
hell have you been?”

It wasn’t part of the plan, but now was as good a time as any. “Let’s do this in private,” I said, pulling him into an interview room and shutting the door. “I was at the doctor’s office.”

“You okay?”

“He can’t say yet.”

“What’s wrong?”

“My white blood count is high.”

He shook his head. “You’re fine. Just ignore it.”

“What do you mean ignore it?”


My
white blood cell count is high. My
father’s
white blood cell count was high. I don’t know if my grandfather ever had a blood test, but he lived to be ninety-seven. It’s called familial something or other. It runs in our family.”

“Familial neutrophilia?”

“That’s the one. Trust me, it’s nothing. Hey, look; I can see you’re busy, so I’ll make it fast. I just swung by to pick up the letter Sophie wrote to Jeremy.”

“You just
swung by
, did you? Damn it, Dad, I thought I told you to stay out of that pissing contest.”

“You did. And I obeyed. But then—” He shrugged his shoulders and gave me his most angelic Catholic-schoolboy smile—three hundred pounds of pure innocence. “But then my future granddaughter asked me to help. How could I possibly say no on my first shot out of the box as her grandfather? I know you and I had an agreement, but kids trump everything. Am I right?”

“So this is your latest bullshit?” I said. “You’ll still keep meddling, but now you’ll use Sophie as an excuse.”

“Mike, I can see this doctor has got you upset with this whole blood count business, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about?
We have a family history of high white blood counts?
” I said. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“I did.”

“When.”

“You were in high school. You were taking biology, and you were exploring the mystery of blood or some crap like that, and I told you all about it. I remember you were laughing your ass off when I said the white blood cells are the infection fighters, and Lomax men have more fighters than most guys.”

“I’m sure it was a riot when I was fourteen, but did you think about mentioning it once or twice since then? Hell, you repeat everything else a thousand times.”

“So now it’s my fault for
not
repeating the same shit over and over? Hey, if your blood count was off, why didn’t
you
say something to
me?

I didn’t answer, and he moved in for the kill. “Look, Mike, don’t come down on me for getting involved in this thing with Jeremy, and then stick it to me because I minded my own business when it comes to your medical issues.”

The argument was over, and I’d chalked up another loss.

“My hematologist would like to meet with you and ask you some questions,” I said.

“I’m happy to help. What’s his phone number?”

I wrote it down for him.

“Now just give me the letter, and I’ll get out of your hair.”

I reached in my pocket and pulled out the envelope. “Do you happen to have any of your recent blood test reports you can show my doctor?”

“Recent? Hell, I’ve got them going back thirty years. One thing about me—I’ve got all my trucks in a row.”

He plucked the letter from my hand, pocketed it without opening it, and walked toward the door. “See you tonight. Six p.m. Don’t be late.”

CHAPTER 65

FRANKIE AND IZZY
picked Sophie up at school, and Diana went straight to Angel and Big Jim’s place after work, so I was alone in the car when Dr. Abordo called.

“Your father came to my office this afternoon,” he said.

I cringed. “Did he have an appointment?”

“That’s the same question my receptionist asked him. He told her it was a medical emergency.”

“I hope she told him to dial 911.”

Abordo laughed. “She offered to squeeze him into my schedule on Friday, and he leaned across her desk and says, ‘Do I look like someone who can be squeezed into anything?’”

“I’m really sorry, doc. The man has no concept of boundaries.”

“That was abundantly clear, but I’m not calling for an apology. Whatever else you may say about your father, he’s persistent. He parked himself in a chair and told my receptionist he’d be happy to wait there as long as it takes.”

“How long before he wore her down?”

“She’s as stubborn as he is, but once she told me who it was, I moved him to the head of the line. He handed me a stack of blood tests going back to the days of dot matrix printers, and then he politely informed me what your diagnosis should be.”

“And…?” I held my breath.

“You may not have his questionable charm, but you’ve defi
nitely inherited his white blood count issues. And he got it from his father. I’ll want to monitor you on a regular basis, but the good news is there’s nothing but good news. Are you with your fiancé and daughter?”

“No. I’m on my way to a family dinner. We’re celebrating our engagement and the adoption.”

“Well now you have three things to celebrate.”

He hung up, and I broke down. I pulled onto the shoulder, and for the third time in less than a week, the tough macho LA cop dissolved into a puddle of tears. And then came the laughter. Hysteria actually. I hit Terry’s speed dial on my cell. I was still laughing when he picked up.

“What’s so funny?” he said.

“The doc just called. I’m going to live.”

“I told you that a week ago. How come I didn’t get any laughs?”

“It’s all in the delivery, Biggs. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I’m going to need some help with a delicate matter.”

“What’s that?”

“Remember that hot, blond rookie cop that caught you with your ass hanging out in Dr. Kraus’s office?”

“Yeah. Dawn Barclay. What about her?”

“I told her you were circling the drain and asked her to be my new partner. Now I’m going to need help breaking the news to her that she’s missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“Sorry to screw up your plans,” I said. “But I’ll be happy to tell her she’s going to have to find her own asshole partner. You’re mine.”

“You’ve been hanging around with Kilcullen too long,” he said. “You’re starting to sound like him. Love you, bro.”

“Love you too, man.”

I hung up and thought about calling Diana. I decided not to. I was only ten minutes away from Big Jim’s place, and I wanted to see the look on her face.

I pulled back out onto the highway, and my mind started rac
ing. I was thinking about a subject that I’d been avoiding since my visit to Doug Heller’s office eight days ago.

My future.

CHAPTER 66

WHEN I GOT
to El Rancho Lomax I was welcomed by the enticing aroma of Mexican cooking that wafted into the yard. Next came the official greeter, Skunkie, who sniffed me up and down with the thoroughness of a drug-detection dog, then wagged his tail in approval.

I went to the kitchen where Angel and Sophie were cooking up a fiesta.

“Congratulations,” Angel said, putting down a large wooden spoon and giving me a hug.

“Wow. Terry and I have caught a lot of bad guys in the past,” I said. “This is the first time I saw you so excited.”

“Who’s talking about bad guys? I’m talking about you and Diana getting married.”

“It was going to be a surprise. How did you…?”

Angel’s eyes darted toward Sophie, then looked away.

I bent down and gave my daughter-to-be a hug. “Diana and I were going to tell everyone at dinner. Are you the one who spilled the refried beans?”

She gave me a loud giggle that was at least a seven on the Sophie giggle meter, which meant that she either liked my bean joke, or she was just buttering up the cop who had caught her red-handed.

“Me?” she said. “I only told Angel. She’s the one who blabbed
about it to everybody else.”

“And everybody is happy,” Angel said. “Now take these out and pass them around.” She put a platter of mini chicken-and-cheese quesadillas in my hand and sent me on my way.

I went into the living room and was immediately congratulated by Aunt Lucy, Uncle Daniel, Frankie, Izzy, and my father. I took him aside and told him about the phone call from Dr. Abordo.

His response was classic Big Jim. “See? What did I tell you? Nothing to worry about.”

Telling Diana was a whole different story. I asked her to come outside and watch the sunset, and then I mumbled something inane about all the sunsets we’d have in the future. It was totally cornball, but it didn’t matter. She’d have cried for joy if I’d read the Miranda rights to her as long as I included the part where Dr. Abordo said, “The good news is there’s nothing but good news.”

We went inside and sat down at the dining room table, which was laden with trays of tacos and enchiladas, bowls of rice and beans, and a big steaming platter of paella in the center.

Big Jim raised his beer glass. “I’d like to propose a toast to the newest family in the Lomax family,” he said. “Mike, Diana, and Sophie.”

Everyone yelled, “Cheers” and started to drink.

“Hold on, hold on. I’m not finished yet,” Big Jim said.

“Of course you’re not,” Frankie said. “What were we thinking?”

“Sophie,” Big Jim said, “As you know, we are a very tight-knit little bunch. We’ve all been raised on the principle that family sticks together, supports one another, and is there for one another, no matter what. We’re there for the good times, and if there are bad times, you know what we do, don’t you?”

She grinned. He’d taught her his credo the first day she walked into our lives. “CTW,” she said.

Big Jim radiated with pride.

“CTW?” Lucy said.

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