and along came SPIDER ( A Martina Spalding Thriller ) (Spider Series Book 1) (9 page)

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

 

The four of them rode
in silence for twenty minutes before turning down an alley and coming to a stop
adjacent to the rear door of a red brick clad building.  Dunbar hastily stepped
from the shotgun seat and opened the rear door.

“Step out, ladies,” he
said as pleasantly as he could through the permanently snarled face he must
have been born with.  He then pulled a pack of Camels from his pocket, pounded
one out and lit it with a Zippo.

“Where are we?” Marti
asked, as she stepped a boot to the ground and glanced around.

“This is the city
morgue, ma’am,” Dunbar said around the cigarette, as he gave her a hand the
remainder of the way out.

“Oh!” Gloria said, upon
hearing where they were.  Why had they been brought here, of all places?

The uniformed officer
went to the unmarked door and pressed the red button on a small speaker box. 
Within seconds a voice said, “Department and badge number?”

“Police.  Ten
eighty-six.”

Following that, a
buzzer sounded and the young officer pulled the door open.  This prompted
Dunbar to step out the cigarette and herd the two women through the door.  Just
the three of them proceeded down a long, dimly lighted hallway.  Footsteps on
the tile floor and an eerie buzzing noise echoed throughout as they traveled,
it seemed forever, to a set of double doors marked with a large, red number
four. 

Dunbar pushed through
them as if he owned the place.  Spotting an attendant scrubbing a drain table,
he said, “Is our John Doe decent?”

“No.  Not yet.  I just
got him cleaned up.”

“God dammit, Harley! 
How long does it take to throw over a sheet!  I told you I was bringing
witnesses,” Dunbar said, with half a smile on his face.  “Turn around, ladies.”

“May I remind you, we
are both nurses, Lieutenant,” Marti said.  “I don’t believe there’s much in the
way of naked bodies we haven’t seen a good number of times.  Who are we about
to view, by the way?”

“I’m hoping you’ll tell
me that, Miss Spalding.  Open it up, Harley.”

Harley marched to a
cooler door, one of many along the wall, and swung it open wide.  Then with
both feet planted firmly, he tugged at the heavy tray until it began moving,
then eased up as it rolled more freely out into the room.

“Okay, ladies, you can
move up.”

Gloria took one glance
from afar, then abruptly turned away.  She was a nurse alright, but was never
comfortable around dead people.  That’s why she had snapped up the receptionist
job at Spencer House when it was offered to her a few years ago.  Marti,
however, boldly walked up to the bloated body and studied it close up.  She
wanted to be sure this was the man who had knifed Parker McLean, as it, at
first glance, appeared to be.  Other than a wash up, it was certain to her
nothing had been done to the body.  Not only were the eyes open, the mouth
gaped as well.  The huge man was in his late forties, partially bald, light
brown hair, about six feet.  Everything added up, but there was still one thing
she wanted to confirm.  She turned to Detective Dunbar and saw him glued to her
face, looking for any signs of recognition, no doubt.

“Is this the man that
put a shiv in your friend, Miss Spalding?”

“What killed him?”
Marti asked.

“Three small caliber
bullets to the back of the head.  They’re not visible from here.  Most likely a
twenty-two was used.  They’re in him yet.  I wanted you to see the body before
we did the autopsy,” Dunbar said, stepping forward for a better look himself. 
“Some of that bloating is from the river.”

“He was in the river?” 
That sounded familiar to her.  Raym Koffee’s first wife’s body was fished from
the river, she knew.  Susannah.  She had also been killed by a gunshot to the
head, according to the newspaper articles.

“Yep.  He was spotted
by a fisherman at daybreak.  Apparently, he was dumped off a bridge into
shallow water.”

“How many people would
it take to hoist a man of his size over a bridge railing, Mister Dunbar?” Marti
asked as she nodded toward the corpse.

“Two, maybe three.” 
Dunbar looked at her strangely.  “Are you suggesting it didn’t happen that
way?  Miss Spalding, do you know something you’re not telling me?”

“My thoughts were, he
was either marched to the railing and shot there… or maybe he was shot in a
small boat and pushed overboard.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I think one
man did this.  And he’s not a big man, either.”

“Okay, Miss Spalding.” 
Dunbar’s voice became gruff.  “Either you’re some kind of kook… or you think
you know something.  Which is it?”

“At this point,
neither… for sure.”

“Will you at least tell
me this is the man that knifed your friend?”

“I’m not completely
sure of that, either.  I can’t see from here — the legs are tight
together.  But if Harley, there, can confirm bruising in the groin area, or
perhaps a swelling of the testicles, then most likely this is him.”

“Like blue coconuts,”
Harley said from the where he worked at cleaning the sink.  “I was wondering
what may have caused that.”

“Miss Spalding here put
one of her cow pie kickers into our perpetrator’s jewel chest, Mister Harley. 
That’s what happened.”  Dunbar chuckled.  “Now, what we need to find out is who
killed him.  And I have a notion Miss Spalding is going to help us out with
that, as well.  Am I right?”  He glared at Martina.

“You may start by
looking for a late model Lincoln Continental, dark blue or black.”  Marti
tossed that out, hoping not to have to get Gloria involved.  “There was a lone
man in it.  It was parked across the street from our apartment building at the
time of the attack.  Perhaps he took this man away while we were busy inside
attending to Parker McLean.”

“Is that all you have?”
Dunbar glared, again.

“Pretty much,” Marti
said.  “I may come up with more once I’ve had some rest.  Who knows?  But
that’s it for now.  Do you know who this man is, Lieutenant?”

“Not yet,” Dunbar
said.  “No ID on him.  But that’s typical.”

“Typical of what?”
Marti asked.

“Of a hit.”

“Or perhaps a hit man?”
Marti suggested.

“That too.”  Dunbar
headed for the door.  “Put him on the table, Harley.  As soon as you locate
those slugs, I want them.”

Back at the apartment
building, Dunbar stepped out to the curb and again assisted the women in
exiting the patrol car.  “Ms. Gillen.  Miss Spalding.  He tipped his hat to
each and, in the process, gave each his card.  “Anything at all comes to mind,
call me, okay?”

The two nodded
exhaustedly and began walking away.

“And, Miss Spalding? 
When we speak again, I want your take on why you think your friend Gloria
Gillen’s life is in danger.  I have it all here in the notes… the ones taken by
the officer at the hospital.”  He waved the notebook.

With that, Marti turned
back to him.  Reaching Dunbar again, she said, “Because the two of us entered
the building, and as we walked for the stairs, it was Gloria he lunged for,
even though she was farthest from him.  To my right.  That was proof enough for
me.”

“Good answer, Martina. 
But that theory really doesn’t hold water.  What if he had in mind to kill you
both?  Under normal circumstances you would have thought that, would you not? 
I mean, the man came at you both.  Yet you choose to believe it was only Gloria
he was after.  The only reason you would think that is if you know more than
you’re telling me.”  He glared, hoping for a sign he was right… but got
nothing.  “For the life of me, I don’t know why I’m not hauling you down to the
station right now for further questioning.”

“You won’t do that,
Lieutenant, because you’re smart.  You’ve already figured me out, and know
you’ll get more out of me with patience.”  Martina’s eyes twinkled as she
studied his face for a reaction to that.  Seeing the faint puppy dog look hoped
for, she now felt it was time for another bone.  “However, if this is of any
consequence, you’re right…  There is more.”

“What?” he asked
skeptically.

“Try on the name
Raymond Koffee for size.  See what revelations that brings you, Lieutenant.” 
Martina said as she backed away.

“Raym?”  He doubled
back.  “You have to be kidding me?  What does he have to do with any of this?”

“You asked.  I told.”

Martina caught up with Gloria
at the top of the steps and the two entered the building.  This left Dunbar
pondering what she’d said as he watched her go.  ‘Ah, to be young again,’ he
thought, and climbed into the patrol car.

“What do you know about
Raym Koffee, Officer Ripley?  Other than that pile of money he’s sitting on, is
there anything else about him that may produce a stink?”

 

 

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

 

Finding she had
acquired a second wind, Marti took a quick shower, dressed cheerfully for a
summer Sunday, and left the apartment.  She was going back to the hospital to
be with Parker for a time.  It was such a beautiful day, she decided to walk
the eight blocks there and take her time doing it.  It would be hot later, she
knew, but for now while the morning breeze was cool, she would take full
advantage.

After walking a few
blocks, Marti came to a small park that had been freshly groomed.  Had she not
worn nylons and spike heels, she would have considered a stroll of the
inviting, grassy space. Perhaps even sit for a while on one of the iron
benches, under an ancient oak at the center.  Do some soul searching.  Even
dream for a while about what the future may have in store for her.  Would
Parker McLean be in that picture?  Of course he would.  She liked him.  At the
moment love wasn’t a part of the equation, but who knew where their
relationship may lead?  If it did eventually lead to love, she just hoped the
feelings were mutual.  And sex?  She’d already made her mind up to partake in
that, just as soon as he was up to the task.  And probably would have already,
last night, had the accident not happened.  Accident, hell!  Attack!  Damn that
Raym Koffee!  How many more lives would he destroy before justice reined him
in?

A clock on the wall in
the hospital displayed nine fifteen.  Marti had a hard time believing all
that’d happened since she’d left here at six, three and a quarter hours
previously.  Stopping at the nurse’s station nearest the OR, she proceeded on
to the room assigned to Parker McLean.  Tiptoeing through the door so as not to
wake him if he should be resting, she found him doing just that.  The rails
were up on the bed, and it was lying flat, not even a pillow under his head. 
There were straps at the chest and the knees to prevent him from accidentally
rising and stressing the intestines repaired early that morning. 

Bedside, she checked
all the monitors and found to her delight that all was normal.  Holding her
hair, she placed a cheek near his forehead to check for any radiation.  It was
an old fashion method of checking a patient’s temperature, but only worked if
it was extreme.  And if it were, it was a sure sign an infection was setting
in.  Parker was cool… another good sign all was progressing well.

“Is that you, Doc?”

“I’m sorry,” she said
in a whisper.  “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was just dreaming
about you.”  He opened his eyes to a squint. 

“Do I dare ask the
nature of the dream?” she said, smiling down on him.

“It was kinda weird.  I
probably shouldn’t tell you.”

“Weird!  Wow, that
doesn’t sound good.”

“Not kinky,” he
explained.

“Well, that’s a
relief.”  She laughed in a low tone.  “Maybe you had better keep that one to
yourself.  I wouldn’t want anything you say at this point to tarnish the
wonderful image I have of you.”

“I won’t ask you what that
is…”  Parker’s eyes opened a little wider.  “But I would like the answer to
another question.”

“Sure.  I will, if I
can,” she said softly, fearing what it may be.

“If all hell hadn’t
broken loose last night, would we have made love?”

“I think, primarily,
that would’ve been up to you.”  She felt a blush coming on and headed it off
with a giggle of sorts.  “Let’s just say, I was game.”

“Alright!” he near
shouted and raised into the straps with his excitement.

“You need to calm down,
Parker,” Martina said in a loud whisper, then eased in for a gentle, but too
brief, kiss.

“Well, that’s what the
dream was about.”  He drew up a smile.  “I’m sorry, Doc.”

“Why should you be
sorry?”

“Because, it was just
I… that I got to enjoy it.  It was so real…. as if it really happened.  You
want to hear about it, Doc?”

“That’s okay.”  She
laughed.  “If it’s all the same to you, I’d just as soon wait for the real
thing, thank you.”

“What’s your favorite
position, Doc?”

“Parker…!”  She
furrowed her brow.  “I think whatever they’re giving you for pain has
stimulated your libido… as well as loosened your tongue.  This is not like
you.”

“No… really!  All girls
have one,” he persisted.

With that, Martina
tossed up her hands and pursed her lips.  She didn’t have a favorite position,
simply because she had no experience in any of them.  “Would the normal way be
out of the question?” she finally said.

“Oh…!  Well, that
wasn’t how the dream played out.”  Parker seemed disappointed.

“Maybe… it wasn’t me in
the dream, after all.”  Now Martina took on a disappointed look.

“Oh, it was you
alright!” he said with a chuckle.

“Parker, stop it!”

“Why?  Am I making you
horny?”

“Extremely,” she said
softly and leaned in for another kiss.  “Look, Parker, I think I ought to go. 
I have yet to go to bed.”

“My goodness!”  He
sized her up.  “You must be spent?”

“I am.  But I’ll be
back later.”

“I’d like that.”

Marti kissed him again,
then picked up her purse and headed for the door.  Once there she remembered
something and turned back.  “Say, is there anyone you want me to update on your
condition?”

“The hospital inquired
about next of kin.  I just have the sister left, but I told them not to call
her.  She lives in Maine.  I figured… what’s the sense in worrying her. 
Especially over something she can’t do anything about, anyway.”

“How considerate is
that?” Marti said and swiped another kiss.  Frankly, she’d be pissed if a
member of her family didn’t call in a similar situation.  “Later.”

“Martina?”

“Yes?”  She turned back
again.

“Have they had any luck
catching the bastard that did this to me?”

“Oh, Parker, I meant to
tell you right away.  But then I thought it best you get better first.”  Marti
touched her brow.  “He’s dead, Parker.  They fished him out of the river at
daybreak.  Someone had shot him… gangland style… three small calibers to the
back of the head.

“Good God!” he said
looking away.  “Well, then… I guess I don’t need to be concerned about him any
longer.”

“No, I guess not… 
Although, you were never in any real danger, here,” Marti said.  But she could
understand how he would be jittery, after the trauma he suffered.

“What’s that mean for
Gloria?”

“Now, Parker, don’t you
go worrying yourself about Gloria.”  Martina came back around the bed and took
one of his huge hands in hers.  “I’ve got that part under control. 
Understand?”  She pecked his lips again.

“If you say so, Doc. 
Say, can you, by chance, tell me how long I’ll be here?”

“That’ll be up to your
doctor.”

“Doctor?  I didn’t know
I had one.”

“Surely there’s a
hospital doctor assigned to you.  You just haven’t seen him yet,” Marti said. 
“But to answer your question, I’d say a week, barring any complications.”

“Do you expect any?”

“I’m not your doctor,”
she said, smiling pleasantly.  “But if you’re concerned about passing the time,
I’ll be working the four to midnight shift at Spencer House starting tomorrow. 
I can spend a good portion of my days with you.”

“Thank you, Martina,”
he said, returning the smile.  “Now you’d best go get some rest.”

“Thank you, I will.” 
She kissed him again.  Realizing now how truly kissable his full lips were… she
lingered a bit, as would a hummingbird greedily extracting nectar, before
forcing herself to pull away.

“Now look what you went
and did, Doc,” Parker said, looking down as best he could.

That’s when Marti
noticed the tent in the sheet…  Embarrassed now, she rushed from the room.

“Doc?”

Martina presented half
a face around the door. “Save it!” she said, with a giggle.  And then she was
gone.  Parker heard her heels rapidly clacking down the hall.

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