Imperfect Contract (24 page)

37

We climbed into the Honda and roared from the cul-de-sac, then turned south on Coral Ridge, weaving through traffic as Ray shifted gears, extracting the best performance from the powerful V-tech engine. 

When we pulled into a parking space in front of Vanessa's apartment, I knew we guessed right.  The same unidentified car sat in her parking space.  I glanced up at her apartment.  The door was closed, but the kitchen window was open a crack.  I hadn't left it open the last time I was there.  Someone had been there, or maybe someone was there now.

Ray patted the holster clipped to his belt.  A reflex move I'd seen him make on other occasions.  I didn't think Craig would shoot us, but I liked the fact Ray came prepared. 

He held out his hand, palm raised toward me.  "You stay here.  I'm going upstairs."  Ray glared at me, warning in his eyes.

I waited until he was halfway up the first flight of steps, then closed the car door behind me, controlling the swing to prevent a bang.  I started up the steps after him.  He'd be angry, but there wasn't much he could do about it.  A few steps later he turned and scowled.  He didn't look happy.

I hurried to within a few feet of him.  Screams ripped the air.  I recognized them as Vanessa's.  Ray bolted upward, taking two steps at a time.  I couldn't keep up and watched from below.  He yanked open the unlocked apartment door.

Craig appeared.  His hands glistened red in the sun.  The front of his shirt looked soaked in fresh blood.  He planted both hands against Ray's shoulders and pushed, smashing Ray against the railing.  The old wrought iron shuddered with the impact. 

A vision of Ray falling through the air flashed through my mind.  Thankfully, the railing held tight. 

Craig glanced in my direction and took off running toward the stairs on the far side of the building. 

Ray regained his balance and took off after him, racing at full speed.  Craig did not appear to be armed.  Ray kept his gun in its holster.  When Craig reached the bottom of the first section of stairs, Ray grabbed the old railing and swung himself over it.  He landed a few feet behind Craig.  Ray leapt forward, hitting Craig's back with considerable momentum.  This time the railing didn't hold.  They both flew though the air, landing in a grassy area a few feet below.

I gasped in sympathy, then realized I couldn't waste another second.  I needed to move.  Ignoring my cramping hip and watching the men over my shoulder, I resumed the climb.  I needed to get to Vanessa.

Craig struggled to his feet and, with strength he didn't look capable of, landed a right hook on Ray's jaw.  It wasn't a good move on his part.  Ray swung, clobbering Craig with a right hook of his own.  Ray grabbed an arm, turning him and restraining him at the same time.  I wasn't surprised when cuffs appeared in Ray's hand.  Ray grabbed a piece of railing, shook with brutal force, and cuffed Craig to it.

I figured Ray's next move would be to call for backup and an ambulance.  The whole chase and fight hadn't taken more than sixty seconds. 

Out of breath and grabbing at my right leg, I used the railing to drag myself the last few steps.  "Vanessa," I called, as I hurried through the apartment door.  "Vanessa."

Nothing.

Stepping past the kitchen wall into the living room, I saw her lying on the floor.  A kitchen knife with a six-inch blade lay in a pool of blood.  The pool grew larger by the second.  Picking the side with the least amount of blood, I knelt next to her.

"Vanessa."

She opened her eyes.  "Craig did it," she whispered.

"We know."

"I did it."  Her voice was so quiet I strained to hear. 

Several wounds defiled her chest, and an artery in her arm ejected blood in little spurts.  It looked like she had used her arms to fend off the attack.  Ignoring everything I knew about blood-borne pathogens, I put my bare hand on the wound, applying pressure, hoping to stop her from exsanguinating.  "What do you mean?" I asked.

"Hired killers.  Gave picture.  I had to."  She rasped.

I grabbed a cell phone lying on a nearby table, laid it on the floor, and used my available hand to dial 9-1-1.  Vanessa needed help fast if she was to have a chance of survival.  When I finished with the call, I said, "Why did you want to kill Barry?" 

"Barry pushed me.  Abused me.  Like Craig.  Didn't want to.  No choice.  Couldn't take more abuse.  Had to get out of the contract.  Unfair what he did to me."  She took several labored breaths. 

"Oh Vanessa, we would have helped you."

"No.  Couldn't get away.  He told me I had to keep contract.  No choice.  Get sued.  I knew."

"Did you disconnect Barry's ventilator?" 

"Finished job.  The men . . .screwed up.  My fault.  Finished job."  Each breath made a rattling noise as her chest filled with blood.

"You're going to be okay," I lied.

"No."  Her voice grew weaker. 

I ripped her shirt away and found more stab wounds and knew she was right.  The blood pooled under her.  I let go of the bleeding artery in her arm.  Holding it did no good.  I watched as blood bubbled from her chest.  Her eyes closed, and she breathed her last gurgling breath.  I felt for her carotid pulse.  Nothing.

I knelt there a long time, my friend's hand in mine, then looked up and saw a couple of paramedics staring at me. 

"You okay, ma'am?" one of them asked.

"Yes, it's all Vanessa's."  Then, without rational reason, I rubbed my bloody hands against my soaked sweater.  "Guess this will never get clean."

The young man looked at me, shock in his eyes.  I knew what I'd said was inappropriate.  I was inappropriate.  Tears ran down my cheeks as I sobbed, crying for my friend, for what she'd done, for what Craig did to her.

Then Ray was at my side, helping me to my feet.  He took me into Vanessa's bathroom, stripped off my clothes, and pushed me into her shower.  "I'll find you something to wear." 

I stood there, water running red from my body, and watched as Ray bagged my clothing.  He left the room, reappearing a minute later with some things of Vanessa's.

Ray stayed with me while I cleaned myself and dressed in Vanessa's shorts and top.  I'd have to go barefoot.  Her shoes were too large and mine were ruined. 

He said, "I'm going to take you downstairs to the car.  Stay in it until I come.  Do you understand?"

I nodded.

He guided me past the room full of local police.  The paramedics, I noticed, had gone.  I recognized one of the Tamarac officers, but he said nothing to me, and I said nothing to him.

***

It was dusk.  I settled into the S2000 and waited as Ray lowered the top. 

He kissed me on the forehead.  "Please stay here.  You don't need to see or hear what's going on upstairs."

I nodded.

He turned to leave.

"She confessed," I said, my voice almost a whisper.

"What did she say?" 

I repeated her confession, her few guilt-ridden words.  "I think she was powerless to do anything about it.  She was afraid of losing everything.  I think she saw no choice but to kill him."

A couple of Tamarac officers released Craig Vanderbilt from the railing and loaded him into a waiting squad car.  He glanced in my direction, then looked away in apparent disgust.  Remembering all the dinners Vanessa, Craig, and I shared, I wondered how I ever thought he was a nice person. 

I sat there for what seemed like forever.  Every so often, Ray peered over the railing, sometimes waving a hand, sometimes just looking.  The medical examiner came and took Vanessa's body away.  It was wrapped in a big zippered bag, then partially covered with a sheet.  No one could see the damage to her beautiful body.

Ray returned and handed me the keys.  "You look a little better."

"I'm okay."

"Go now," he said.  "I'll be home later.  You can go to the station tomorrow to make your statement."

He bent and kissed me.

"Home," I said as I turned onto the street.  "He called my house his home."

I fell asleep when my head hit the pillow.  I hadn't expected that.  Much later, I heard the garage door open.  I'm going to have to give him a key, I thought in my sleepy stupor.  I listened as Sunshine greeted him.  Then I heard the shower on the other side of the house.  I wondered if he would join me in bed or use the spare room.  I drifted off again, then became aware of him next to me.

"Ray," I said, snuggling.  "I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad I'm here too."  He wrapped his strong arms around me and drew me close.  "Vanderbilt confessed to abusing Vanessa.  He even admitted harassing you.  He wanted to scare you off.  He thought Vanessa would tell you everything, and he didn't want that to happen."

"She did.  Unfortunately, she was dying at the time."  I thought for a moment.  "Strange isn't it.  He was violent enough to kill her, yet he protected her."

"He needed to be in control."  He kissed me.  "Sleep now.  We'll talk in the morning."

Epilogue

It was early July, and the summer heat was unbearable.  Connie and I chatted in front of the nurses' station on the pediatric unit, surrounded by murals of jungle animals, safari trains, and hanging vines.  We watched a couple of toddlers explore the playroom across the hall. 

Our supervisor granted our transfer requests within days of each other.  I transferred to the pediatric emergency department, and she transferred to the pediatric inpatient unit.  I had floated upstairs in response to a staffing crisis, and Connie seemed intent on catching up on the news.

She said, "You're telling me Craig Vanderbilt won't fry?  Ah, come on.  He killed her in cold blood, grabbed her from the hospital for the purpose."

"The deal was that if he pleaded guilty to the murder, the state wouldn't ask for the death penalty."

"It's too bad he took it.  I would have enjoyed knowing the state was going to execute him."

"Not going to happen.  Ray said he'll be sentenced to life with no hope of parole.  At least he won't be exerting his control over another woman."  I watched the toddlers playing, one on each side of the small playroom.  We would discharge them later today into the arms of their loving families.  "And the good thing is he'll spend the rest of his life thinking about and reliving what he did to Vanessa.  I think he deserves to suffer." 

Connie looked thoughtful.  "What I can't understand is why and how Vanessa contacted the hit men."

"That's the strange part.  Hutchinson was jerking her around, and she wanted out of the real estate contract.  Hutchinson wouldn't budge, so she decided to take care of the situation.  Craig came to town, showed up at her apartment, then offered to help.  He knew some guys from the gym he used to frequent.  They put him in touch with the right people.  Then, after the shooting, Amelia told her the contract was still binding.  By the time Amelia fessed up about the contract not being complete, Vanessa and Craig had decided to give their relationship another go of it.  They planned to live in the townhouse.  That's why Vanessa insisted Amelia push the sale through."

"But Vanessa was angry about being forced to buy the house."

"That was all show.  She was concerned Ray would make the connection, especially after the shooters were arrested."

Connie knitted her brows.  "So Vanessa didn't place the contract herself?"

"I don't know for sure.  In his statement, Craig said he took her to the meeting and gave her the money she needed." 

"That makes Craig guilty in Hutchinson's death, too."

I nodded, then glanced in the direction of the elevators and saw Ray exit when the doors opened.  "Hi, Babe," I said after I buzzed Ray into our locked unit.  "What's up?"

"Not a thing.  I thought I'd come by and take you to lunch."  He kissed my cheek and smiled at Connie.  He looked spiffy in his navy blue sport coat and khaki slacks.  "Connie, want to join us?"

"Can't do that," Connie said.  "But thanks anyway.  One of us has to stay with the kids." 

I put my hand on Connie's shoulder.  "Mind if I take first lunch?"

"No, go ahead.  Enjoy."  She flashed us a big smile, then hurried into the playroom to keep a closer eye on the toddlers.

As Ray and I stood waiting for the elevator, I asked, "What's the occasion?"

"I have an offer on my condo."  He put his arm around my shoulders.  I felt the warmth of his hand though the thin cotton of my uniform.

"Really?"  I looked at him and smiled.

"You'll never believe who the realtor is."

"Try me."

"Amelia Hutchinson."  He grinned.  "She looks good.  She must have lost forty pounds since her husband died, and she seemed full of energy."

"Who's she working for?"  The elevator door opened in front of us.

"One of the big firms."  He mentioned the name.  "She said it wouldn't have worked with Wiley, so she sold what she could from the existing business and went on her way.  She said she's doing fine."

"Did you ask about Jamel?" I asked, stepping onto the empty elevator.

"He's still having problems, but he's registered to go to school in the fall, and she thinks he's working regularly."

"That's something.  She deserves a break."  I turned to face Ray and took both of his hands in mine.  "Was it a good offer?"

"Decent, not wonderful."  He smiled and told me the details.

"You going to take it?"  I asked.

"I'd like to.  Are you sure you can handle having me around full-time?"

"I think so."  I put my hands on his shoulders and stretched to kiss him.  The elevator doors opened on the first floor.  "I know so."

The End