Soft beeps and whirs pour in at me from every direction. I
stare down at the yellowed tiles on the floor, forcing down every thought
except the number of tiles. When that fails me, I begin memorizing the simple
pattern of mauve and cream squares along the top and bottom border of the heavy
linen curtain separating me from the next patient. The soft murmur of voices from
every side keeps me from eavesdropping on the officer wearing shiny leather
shoes with thick soles and the nurse shod in white canvas. They have
been discussing me for quite some time, but I can’t worry about that.
Curiosity about why Larry wanted me to meet him at the
batting cages keeps wandering back into my mind. Confusion over the voicemail
that came after he was already dead chases it into my head and back out again.
I return to counting the squares on the curtain.
“One mauve. One cream. Two mauve. Two cream…” I count on and
on and on, hoping to stem the tide of my own fears.
My dry mouth quickly goes hoarse and my whispered litany
fades. As some semblance of silence sinks around me despite the white noise of
the daily workings of the emergency room, I force myself to relax.
Something brushes my shoulder and I jump, crashing to the
floor as my knees give way. I look up toward the examination table, seeing
nothing. As footsteps stir outside the curtain, I hear the soft echo of a voice.
“Theresa, you have to help me.”
I shake my head, trying to clear that voice.
“Miss Holden, are you okay?” The nurse glances at my chart
for my name as she kneels beside me and gently runs her hands along my arms and
legs. “Doesn’t feel like anything is broken. Let me help you up.”
The policeman looms over us for a moment before kneeling
down to help me regain my feet. Together, they return me to the examination table. I glance warily into every rounded corner of the space, reassuring
myself that a ghost doesn’t lurk within the curtained walls. Then I face
forward, composing myself as much as I can while the nurse and police officer
scrutinize me.
“Is it okay if I ask a couple of questions?” The officer
looks from my face to the nurse, unsure who to ask for permission.
I begin to nod my head but stop and turn my own eyes toward
the nurse. She glances at the chart again before placing a hand on my wrist and
looks upward as she counts silently. Then she gently places a stethoscope to my
chest, listening again.
“You’ll be okay, Miss Holden. You just had a shock. Try to
relax. Let someone else drive you home.” She nods to the officer and steps
through the opening in the curtain to pull it back.
“This one’s free.” She calls out as she heads back toward
the emergency room desk.
“I can give you a ride home, ma’am. If that’s okay?” The
officer offers me his arm.
I try not to lean on him too heavily as I glance at the name
on his uniform. “You just want to ask me more questions, Mr. Polsen.”
“I do. But you also need a ride.”
“And a note for work.” I add as my phone rings and I glance
at the caller ID.
I turn the phone off as a nurse joins us with a wheelchair.
“It’s hospital policy that you leave in this and we suggest you call us
immediately if you experience any odd symptoms.”
The severe look on her face assures me that her suggestions
should be followed.
“Yes, ma’am.” I square my shoulders and raise my head,
coming to attention.
The officer hides a grin behind his hand until the nurse
walks away with one last reproving glance at me. Then he places both hands
firmly on the handles of the wheelchair and pushes me toward the elevator.
*
As the car door closes behind me, I turn to watch the
officer circle the car. He glances up and down the street slowly even as he
approaches his door, taking in everything with suspicious eyes. I take one last
deep breath as his door opens. Composing myself as much as I can, I offer a timid
smile in anticipation of a barrage of questions.
“Feel up to some questions?” He begins.
“Yes.” My voice cracks, denying the truth of my word.
“Lean your head back and rest. We’ll talk when we get to
your house.”
I lean back and close my eyes, muttering. “Over a cup of
cocoa?”
“Sure.”
My mind goes blissfully silent as I focus on the soft sounds
of the engine. Occasionally, a gruff voice breaks the silence from the radio,
but I ignore it. By the time we reach my apartment complex, I have almost
forgotten what put me in this situation.
“Miss Holden?” Officer Polsen says softly as he opens his
door. “Wake up. We’re here.”
I open my eyes, blinking back the light as he circles the
car. I wait for him to open my door. Then I slowly get out of the car. He
offers me his arm. I lean on him as we cross the lot to my apartment. I ignore the inquisitive glances of a few late-rising neighbors.
“Let me help you.” He
offers, reaching for my keys as I fumble through them.
He continues to help me as I prepare hot cocoa. Finally, we
sit down at the kitchen table. I wrap my hands around my warm mug and stare at
melting marshmallows.
Officer Polsen clears his throat. “I just have a few
questions right now. I may have more as the investigation continues.”
I nod understanding and sip slowly from the mug.
He pushes his cup away untouched and continues. “You work
for Mr. Chase?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of business are you in?”
“We work at the local library.” I look up from my cup now.
“So why were you
meeting him at the batting cages?” His eyebrows meet as he ponders this.
“I don’t know.”
“But you were meeting him there?”
“Yes. He left me a message telling me to.”
“Can I have a listen?” He stands up and walks over to my
answering machine.
“Sure. I’ll have to call into work though.”
“Oh?” He picks up the phone and brings it to me.
He waits in silence as I dial the library. He begins to tap
his foot as I wait for the mechanical voice on the other end to recite her
message. Then I hit a series of numbers to get into my own mailbox. At the
prompt, I put the phone on speaker and replay the message.
“That doesn’t tell you much. You’re sure he hadn’t discussed
some project involving the batting cages or baseball with you?”
“Positive. I know he follows baseball. His office is a
shrine to the local league. But I’m not really athletic…” I take a longer draw
of chocolate comfort as my words run dry.
“Hmm.” He pulls out his cell phone to make a note before
turning his attention back to me. “Did he have any enemies?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I really didn’t know him outside of
work. I know he could be demanding at
times, but that’s not a reason to kill
him.”
I can tell by his face that he thinks I am holding something
back as he asks a few more questions to which I have no answers. Finally, he
slips his phone back into his pocket and offers me a card.
“Thank you so much for your help. If you think of anything
that might be relevant to the case, call me immediately. Okay?”
“Of course.”
As I stand to see him to the door, he motions for me to
remain seated. “Please don’t get up, ma’am. I’ll see myself out.”
I watch him go before switching seats and taking a sip of
his untouched cocoa. The warm liquid fills me with warmth and comfort as my
thoughts wander. I search for some piece of information that would make today
make sense.
So I took a while to post today's entry. I raced ahead to a lot of questions that I need to answer and forgot to finish this section. I had to write it and revise it. Hopefully, it helps keep the story moving in the right direction for you. What do you think? Also, you won't be too disappointed if I don't switch gears next week and post something romantic for Singles Awareness Day, right? Please feel free to leave some comments.
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