Monkey Wrench (11 page)

Ten

Freddy and I got
back to QP around seven. Buster’s big truck was parked out front. Freddy pulled in front of it and put his car in neutral.

“I won’t come in if that’s okay with you. No sense incurring the big man’s wrath.”

“You must be tired,” I said. “Pissing off Buster is one of your favorite pastimes.”

He laughed.

I patted his hand that rested on the wooden gearshift. “No matter. We’re off to the hospital to see Vangie anyhow.”

———

Vangie was sitting up when we got to her room. She smiled
at the sight of Buster and waved us over. Since last night, she’d
gotten a roommate, a thin older woman who barely looked at us, despite Buster giving her his best smile.

“How’s the noggin?” Buster asked. We gave Vangie a kiss on opposite cheeks.

“Hurts,” she said. She frowned. She looked far healthier than last night. The bandage on her head was much smaller. Her complexion was not as sallow and her eyes had some of the spark back in them.

I gave her hand a squeeze and she smiled at me.

Buster rubbed her back vigorously. “You resisted, didn’t you? How many times have I told you not to fight back? Hand over the damn backpack or whatever they want. It’s not worth it.”

“It was a reflex,” she said. “My whole life is in that pack. My schoolbooks. I can’t afford to replace them.”

Vangie moved away from his touch. He was a bit too zealous. I got between them.

“Hey,” I said with pseudo cheer. “Speaking of books, Lark’s books finally arrived.”

“Was that just yesterday that we were tracking them down? Feels like a month ago to me,” Vangie said.

“Me, too,” I agreed.

I filled her in on my road trip with Freddy. She laughed when I told her about chasing down Jimmy, the UPS guy. “In the end, we made it to all eleven stores.”

“CHP must have been on vacation,” Buster said. “Freddy had to have been over the speed limit ninety percent of the time.”

“Seventy-five,” I said. Buster gave me a baleful look. “Okay, maybe eighty.”

“Next time, give me a heads up. I’ll make sure Freddy has a little company on his ride.” He winked at Vangie, who laughed. She knew how he felt about Freddy.

Buster’s phone buzzed and he looked at the readout. “I’ve got to take this,” he said.

“You won’t get reception. You’ll have to go outside,” I said.

“Thank you, Officer Cell Police.” He kissed Vangie on the cheek again. “Get better soon. It’s your move in Scrabble.”

He tried to kiss me too but I dodged him. He’d pay for the cell
police crack and he knew it.

Vangie and I watched him go. She laid her head against the pillow.

“Hey, you’re in your street clothes,” I said. The top she was wearing wasn’t her pajamas, it was a blue Henley T-shirt. “You going home?”

She nodded. “As soon as the hospitalist gets here to sign off. His office said he had an emergency but promised he’d be in tonight. I can’t sleep another night in this hospital.”

She leaned over and whispered. “They brought her in at two in the morning. She snores, and if she’s not snoring, she’s crying. I’ve got to get home.”

I looked out the window and saw Buster on the sidewalk. One hand held the phone up to his ear, the other kept pace with his stride. He didn’t look happy.

“I bet he’s going to have to go back to work,” I said. “Dang it.”

Vangie made a commiserating noise. I settled into a chair at Vangie’s side, glancing up to see what was on the TV. The woman in the next bed startled when the
Jeopardy
music morphed into people yelling, “Wheel … of … Fortune.”

Was Vangie up for the heart-to-heart we needed to have? I snuck a peek at her profile.

I started to speak but she interrupted, “Dewey …”

Vangie picked at a thread that was loose in the blanket. “I hope you don’t mind, I told my mother that you would bring me home.”

I hadn’t told her I was coming to visit her tonight. I didn’t know myself I was going to make it until Freddy and I hit remarkably light traffic coming down from Fremont.

She took my silence as a plea for more information. “My mother had to make dinner for the little kids, and Grandma was napping …”

“Hey, it’s no problem. You know you can count on me,” I said.

“I just did,” she said. Pat Sajak was smarming his way into a commercial break.

I gave her a questioning look.

“I just counted on you. And you were here.”

Vangie smiled her broadest smile, the one that made her eyes crinkle up. Pearl had warned her against grinning, said she’d regret the wrinkles later, but Vangie didn’t listen, thankfully. Her smile went straight through to my heart.

There would be time to talk tomorrow.

We watched the next segment of
Wheel
, both of us guessing “Saddam Hussein” before the contestant. Buster still wasn’t back.

I got up, stretched, and went to the window again. Buster’s hands were at his sides. No phone in sight. He was talking to someone standing in front of him. That person was smaller than he was, and shorter. I only caught a glimpse of a leg and a man’s dress shoe.

Buster threw up his hands and took a step away. I could see who he was talking to now. Anton Zorn. Uh-oh.“Vangie,” I cried. “You feeling okay? For real?”

“Fine,” she said. “The doctor said there was no reason I couldn’t go home. He just needed to see me one more time …”

“Then come on, let’s go.”

I pulled back the closet door. “Do you have anything in here?”

“Mom took everything home earlier. Except the hand lotion,” she said, reaching for the drawer next to the bed.

“Leave it,” I said. “I’ll buy you a new one. Follow me.”

I glanced out the window. Judging by his body language, Buster was reading Zorn the riot act. Thank you, Buster.

“What’s going on?” Vangie asked. She climbed off the bed.

I pulled back the curtain so she could see.

“Zorn.”

Vangie’s eyes grew wide. “Is he going to arrest me?”

“Not if he can’t find you,” I said.

I opened the door to the hall. The lone nurse at the desk looked up. Her phone rang and she turned away. We did a speed walk toward the elevator. My car was parked in the back lot. Luckily, Buster and Zorn were out front.

“Hurry.”

We ran down the hall.

I had no idea if Zorn was on his way himself, or if he’d sent patrol officers to pick Vangie up. A blue shirt with epaulets gave me a skipped heartbeat. Turned out to be a teenager in faux military garb.

Vangie put her hand in mine. It was slippery with sweat. Hair was plastered to her forehead.

“Are you okay?” I asking, squeezing her hand.

She nodded, then put a hand up to steady her head as if she was a bobble head about to go out of control. “Get me out of here.”

“Through here.”

We went past the gift shop and out a door. I glanced around the corner but didn’t see Buster or Zorn. I pushed Vangie in the direction of my car. I pulled through the doctor’s lot and a gas station on the corner, bumping into the side street, scraping the bottom of my car.

Vangie lurched in the seat next to me. “Hang on,” I said a little late.

I glanced at her head, half expecting to see blood. Nothing yet.

A few blocks from the hospital, we were stopped by a red light. I glanced in my rear view for the hundredth time. Nothing.

“We’re okay,” I said. Vangie grabbed the dashboard and blew out a breath.

“Thanks,” she said. “I really don’t want to talk to him.”

“You can’t go home,” I said. “He’ll find you there. I can’t even take you to QP. He’s been there, he knows you work with me.”

“Where am I going to go?” Vangie cried. She cracked her knuckles loudly. I grabbed her hand.

“I’ve got an idea.”

A few minutes later, we parked in front of Pearl’s. The lights were on in the living room, and I could see Pearl seated in front of the TV.
Wheel of Fortune
was still on. That seemed impossible.

“What do you think? Can you hole up here? We’ll stash you at Pearl’s and call your attorney. Zorn can talk to Larry the Lip.”

Vangie looked at me questioningly. “Larry the what?”

“Don’t ask,” I said. “Let’s go tell Pearl she has another roommate.”

I knocked gently on the door. Pearl answered, carrying a small quilt,
Wheel of Fortune
theme music playing behind her.

She clicked the TV off when we came into the small living room. The magazines were gone from the coffee table and someone had recently dusted. Pearl looked good, too. She was wearing a clean pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt from QP’s twentieth anniversary sale.

“Sit,” she said, taking her place in the small recliner. The bigger chair—Hiro’s—had a sci-fi novel cracked over the arm. Ross had made himself at home.

Vangie and I sat side by side on the couch. Vangie leaned back and closed her eyes.

“What’s wrong? You two look like someone died,” Pearl said, stabbing her needle into a saucer full of beads.

I cringed at her choice of words.

“We were hoping you could put Vangie up for a couple of days.
”

Vangie’s breath steadied. I patted her knee and she made a murmur that let me know she was okay, but out of juice. The escape from Zorn had taken its toll on her.

Why was Pearl hesitating? She and Vangie were as close as two unrelated people could be.

“Ross is in the spare room,” Pearl said, her little chin coming up defiantly.

So that was it. I’d forgotten. I was the bad guy when it came to Sir Ross. “I’m not here to kick Ross out,” I said. “You can make your own decision about him.”

I gave Pearl a look that I hoped conveyed how I felt about the
idea that she would choose a total stranger over Vangie. Pearl stabbed the needle into the quilt, affixing an azure blue bead in place.

I decided to appeal to her renegade side. “The police want to talk to her. She doesn’t want to talk to them.”

“The police, why?”

I realized Pearl knew noting of Vangie’s last week.

“A boy in her class died of a drug overdose, and the cops think she knows something.”

Vangie didn’t open her eyes. “I can sleep on the sofa in the sewing room, Pearl. Please.”

Pearl watched Vangie. “What happened to your head?”

Vangie placed a hand on the bandage. “Like my new hat?” she said.

“She’s okay,” I said. “She had a little accident. Doctor says she’ll be better in no time. She could use a little of your TLC.”

Pearl ignored my plea, watching Vangie intently. “Of course you can stay.”

“Thanks,” Vangie said.

Once the decision had been made, Pearl switched gears.

“How about some tea, Vangie? I have that special green one that you like. A few cups of that and you’ll be up and around in no time.”

Pearl dashed off to the kitchen. I followed her. The dishwasher was humming, and the counters had been wiped down. Having Ross around had put a spring in her step, I had to admit that.

“Where’s Ross?”

She glanced at the clock. “Class. He’ll be back soon.”

“You will take care of her, right?”

“Of course I will, Dewey. What do you think I am?”

“I understand you’re mad at me. Don’t take it out on Vangie.”

Pearl made a pfft noise. I went back into the living room. Vangie was lying on the couch, her hand thrown over her forehead. I hoped she wasn’t hurting too badly.

My phone beeped and I saw a message from Buster. Buster’s voice came through the small speaker. I put it close to my ear so Vangie wouldn’t hear. “I’m sorry. I tried to stop Zorn from coming upstairs. He doesn’t care that Vangie is hurt. He’s determined to question her about Wyatt’s death. I’m going to work for a few hours. The Task Force is calling us in. I’ll look for Vangie at the station after I’m done. I’ll try to bring her home.”

Pearl clattered in her kitchen, something metallic falling to the floor. “I’m okay,” she hollered. “I’m going to put some cookies in the oven. I have dough left over. Vangie loves my butterscotch chocolate chip.”

Vangie shifted when she realized I was standing there. I sat on the end of the couch and Vangie laid her head in my lap. I stroked the hair out of her face.

“Does your head hurt?” I asked.

“Not really. I feel kind of sick to my stomach.”

“Probably the result of too much adrenalin running through your system. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Not your fault that Anton Zorn is such a jerk.”

My fingers on her cheek were wet. I looked closer at her face. “Why are you crying?”

“Wyatt was murdered, right? I saw it on the news earlier.”

I rubbed her temple. “He was. The cops are saying that he was given an overdose.”

She cried quietly, turning her head to the back of the couch. “He was not a druggy, Dewey. He wasn’t.”

“I know. The medical examiner found a needle mark on his back. He didn’t put it there.”

I pulled her upright. Her arms were tightly crossed against her body. “Tell me about that night, Vangie. Come on.”

She rocked, hugging herself. “I don’t want you to think badly of me.”

“Vang, something is eating you up. I can tell. You’ll feel better if you spill. I love you no matter what.”

She pulled her feet underneath her and glanced into the kitchen. Pearl was still fussing. I heard the oven go on with a whoosh.

“Did the protest go crazy? I heard it was a riot,” I said.

She sighed, a sound that racked her body. “Not at all. The protest was amazing. By the end, people were chill. We sang. Everyone was very mellow. Very sixties.”

Highest form of praise coming from Vangie.

Her forehead creased. Her gaze shifted to the past. She said, “Wyatt and I got separated. One
minute he was behind me, then when I turned, he was gone. I looked for him but I couldn’t see him in the crowd. I texted him. He didn’t answer.”

Vangie rubbed her eyes. “I made my way back to where I’d parked earlier, my usual spot in the lot by the school. The streets were so crowded, it must have taken me half an hour to get over there.