One Deadly Sister (Sandy Reid Mystery Series #1) (27 page)

“I asked the doctor about your legs. He couldn’t tell me much. What did he tell you?”

“Said just wait. They still feel numb.” She wanted to change the subject. “Have you seen my car?”

“Yes, I put the remaining pieces in an envelope. You can mail it to your insurance company.”

“That bad, huh? Guess I’ll be on foot until I get a new one.”

“Anything else you need?”

“I don’t want to bother you. It’s not police business.”

“Name it.”

“I need a new phone. Mine is soaking in Florida swamp mud somewhere. I’m lost without it”

“Oh, I forgot, the tow truck driver found it on the canal bank, must have flipped out when you overturned.”

“A miracle...all my precious numbers.”

“It’s downstairs with your clothes, I’ll have it sent up.” He turned toward the door. “I bullied my way in here. They said please just thirty seconds. I guess my time is up.”

“You arranged for a police guard outside my room.”

“Just precautionary. Someone tried to kill you.”

He started to say something else. She guessed it was about her leaving Florida. He walked to the door.

He turned. “Can you describe the guy?”

“It had to be Pirro. Tall and skinny, I couldn’t make out his clothes. Oh, and the baseball cap.”

“I got a good paint sample off your trunk lid. I’ll find the bastard.”

“Might not be a problem. I have a feeling, if I tell Elena Duarte what happened, she’ll tell me exactly where to find him.”

After he left, she reached down and touched each leg, still no feeling. She picked up the mirror, moved her head back and forth slowly, and spoke aloud, “I suppose I’m lucky at that.” Yet, she had to consider that the rest of her life might be quite different than she had always imagined.

The bedside phone rang. She shuffled around and stretched to reach it. “Hi, Miss Reid it’s Sergeant Lewis. Can you talk?”

“Sergeant...Lewis...who?”

“That nice old cop who runs the visiting room at the jail. How ya doing, Philly?”

“Sarge, of course, hey thanks for calling. I feel better just hearing your voice. I really mean that.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be okay. I just know it. Of course, your car’s a goner.”

“Makes me sick all over again. And I have places to go. Why don’t you assign me a police car with a driver? Make him single and good-looking. I want the lights, the siren and all that jazz. Be sure it has a good stereo.”

“That’s why I called. You can use your brother’s car.”

“Don’t think so, Sarge, it was impounded.”

“Not exactly, I called over there this morning to see what it would take to get it released. Goddard should have put an Evidence Hold on it, but he didn’t. His team searched the car and went over every inch. All the time there wasn’t even a Hold on it. Just sitting there. I told our man over there you’d be waltzing over to pick it up.”

Waltzing sounded good. “You lifesaver! Why are you doing all this for me?”

“Because I like your style. You remind me of my daughter when she was your age, sassy, not as clever as you. Just as reckless.”

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s mellowed out just fine, and I have grandkids.”

“You have pictures you can show me?”

“Funny you should ask. Okay, Philly...get better. Let me know when you want to get the car released.”

“Thanks, Sarge.”

“Don’t hang up. Here’s your brother. I had him brought up here to the visiting room.”

Raymond got on and started in with his regrets for asking her to come to Florida. She brushed that aside and tried to explain what happened. At first, they just yelled back and forth. Eventually, they calmed down and quietly talked for ten minutes. She didn’t mention the ultimatum from her employer.

Tests and more x-rays filled the afternoon. Busy people in blue scrubs, fussed around, patted her on the shoulder and told her she’d be just fine. When they wheeled her back to her room, she found an orchid plant from Linda. Sandy would call her later. Another call was more important just then. The law firm in Philadelphia was waiting for her decision.

She phoned Joanna in Philadelphia. A hit and run, she explained without further details. Joanna was aghast and kept pressing for particulars—if it’s not serious then why is she in the hospital? Sandy’s boss got on the phone and told her not to worry about hurrying back to work. The company wanted her to get well, not to worry about the expense. They would hold off any decision regarding her employment.

“Ron, that’s marvelous and I’m overwhelmed, however I’ve already made my decision.” In fact, she had just decided after talking with Raymond. Helping him was unfinished. No way could she leave town with Moran winning and the murderer unknown. Also, there was the matter of Chip.

She told Ron, “I’ve decided to stay here until my brother is safely out on bail. It’s a circumstantial case. It’s entirely possible a confused jury would convict him. I’ll do what I can. Thanks to all you guys for the special consideration. I don’t expect you to hold the job open for me. It may take two weeks or two years. In any case, it’s something I have to do. After that, if the company still wants me...well, we’ll see.”

She awoke late in the afternoon. She tried to pull herself up but was too stiff and sore. She thought about her precious Miata, also crumpled and hurt and beyond all possible healing. Of course, she could buy a new car, but she loved the old one. She wanted it back. They had shared some good adventures and nearly died together. That bastard Pirro tried to bury them both together in that country canal. She would crumple and hurt Pirro, if she got the chance.
La Familia
must be touchy about strangers nosing around, or maybe she was getting too close to the truth.

Pirro would come after her again. She knew that. Even so, the attempt on her life had challenged her and made her angry. He had picked on the wrong girl. She had no intention of waiting around for him to try again. He had to pay.

She buzzed the nurse for help sitting up and asked for the phone. She needed a different kind of help just now. “Hello, Linda, it’s Sandy. Thanks for the orchid plant. It’s beautiful and you’re a sweetheart.”

“Sandy! So happy you’re okay. I hope Chip catches that bastard. May I come up to see you?”

“Not yet, but I do need a favor.”

“Anything.”

“Do you own a gun?”

“Anything but that. You’re not getting it. The police will protect you from Pirro.”

“How did you know his name?”

“Some cop mentioned it, I guess.”

“I need the gun for preemptive purposes. What do you have?”

“Preemptive, my ass. Don’t even think about that going after him crap. Yes, I have a .38. Do you even know anything about firearms?”

“I’ve been shown a trick or two. I’m serious, Linda, and I’m not going to argue with you. Do I get your gun or not?”

“The Florida sun has baked your brain. Let me warn you, Sugar, if you go through with this, Chip won’t hesitate to arrest you.”

“It’ll look like self-defense. A cop in Philly showed me exactly how to stage it. They won’t even bring charges against me.”

“You’re talking about murder. It’s dangerous and you could get yourself killed. You know, you won’t fool Chip, and you could lose him over this. He hates people who pick up a gun to settle a score. He’s says they’re not trustworthy. He’s likely to write you off in a hurry.”

“Linda?”

“You’re a dangerous woman, you know it?”

“Linda?”

“Okay, okay, you could get one fast in Florida anyway. But I have to meet with you first and discuss it. And I must be certain that you’re off all medications."

Sandy started forming a vague plan. She’d lure Pirro into the open. That part would be easy. He’d underestimate her just like everyone else. He’d macho around, showing off. She’d let him strut for a minute. Then, she’d blow him away. He’d die with a surprised look on his ugly face. She’d do it for Elena and God knows how many other women—past and future.

After the evening meal and more medication, she felt sleepy. Cloudy thoughts swirled around in her mind. There in her drowsy fog she saw herself going after Pirro. He was standing there beside his huge vehicle. She saw herself taking out the gun and slipping the safety off. Then he got blurry and disappeared. She was drifting and floating. Looking down, she could see the blurry body of a tall, skinny man wearing a baseball cap. He was lying face down in a pond filled with blood, his body kept jerking with spastic movements, in spite of the iron sword piercing his chest and sticking up out of his back.

It was late when she awoke. Dark outside, lights were low and the hospital was quiet. She became aware that her legs felt tingly as though they were falling asleep. She sat up in bed and rubbed them. She gradually began to realize that she could feel the rubbing. A slight feeling yet it was there, definitely tingling and somewhat stinging. She buzzed for the nurse. When the nurse came in, Sandy had tears on her cheeks. She was laughing and wiggling her toes. She’d never realized how delightful it could be to wiggle your toes.

T
he next morning Goddard stopped at his desk to pick up his messages and review the overnight Incident Report. A new item was listed: Accident-Fatal. In the space for victim: Abelando Pirro, a name Goddard had already memorized. He asked to see the Police Report. His aide said it was on the chief’s desk.

“Chief, we’ve got an Abelando Pirro dead last night. May I see the report?”

“Only have the prelim, happened late. He fell from a fourth-floor condo balcony over on Banyon. They found his body impaled on the iron fence surrounding the pool. Draped over a sharp metal picket like a dead fish on a hook. M.E. said he probably lived for hours and just bled to death. Hellava way to go. Had been drinking, before he fell. Why, do you know something about it?”

“I can tell you right now, it was murder.”

“How do you know? You haven’t even seen the report.”

“He didn’t fall. He was pushed. It’s murder.” Goddard started flipping through his notes. “Who’s getting it?”

“Won’t be you, your hands are full.”

“It’s connected, Chief,” he pleaded, “part of my case. That’s the address for Norma Martin. He’s the bad guy who ran Sandy Reid off the road two nights ago. That was attempted murder. I was searching for him.”

“This Pirro death happened on Sergeant Huress’ watch,” the chief said. “He investigated last night. Said it was a couple of drunken Cuban-Americans. Look at this, he got a nice statement from the girlfriend.”

“Of course, it’s an absolutely perfect statement. She made it up.”

“Huress did okay. I’m keeping him on it.”

“He’s not a detective, not qualified. Don’t do this to me, Chief. This could be important. Damn. At least now I can stop looking for him.”

Goddard read the report, then stepped outside the chief’s office and called Sandy. “How do you feel this morning?”

“The doctor said my temporary leg numbness was stress and strain related. He had some big name for it. I’m being released this morning.”

“Great, I’m very happy for you. And you can relax, Pirro won’t bother you again.”

“You caught him already? That was fast. But I didn’t want him caught. I wanted him dead. Well, don’t put him in with my brother.”

“He is dead, Sandy. Found below Elena Duarte’s balcony. She claims it was an accident. Want to hear her statement?”

“I’m listening.”

Chip started reading
, …We were such good friends. We had quite a few drinks and were making out on the couch, then we danced a little. We were waiting for my mother to come over after the restaurant closed. Then he said he wanted to make Mentiritas, he just had to have Mentiritas. I told him I thought I was out of rum. I said I’d look again. When I came back out of the kitchen, he was gone. I assumed he had gone out to get the rum. That upset me terribly because he was in no condition to drive. I was worried about him. I sat down and turned on the TV. Then I heard the sirens and saw all of the lights outside.

“Well, I’ll be damned. You’ll never know just how much trouble she saved me. Give her a medal. She made up that statement. She hated him. Apparently, the story she told me about Pirro was true.” Sandy laughed. “She danced him right off the balcony. She probably pretended he was getting her hot and then pushed the bastard over the railing straight down to hell. Applause please. I hope he died a slow death. I’ll bet she turned up the TV to not hear his moaning down there.”

“I don’t know about you. It’s a crime and, if it were my case, I’d go after her for murder.”

“Wait a minute, when did this happen, last night? Geez Louise! Chip, it was in my dream. She did it for me. Elena heard about my accident and knew immediately who ran me off the road. Pirro might even have bragged about it. Twenty-four hours later, he’s dead. Chip, she killed him for me.”

“That’s a stretch. Maybe Pirro killed Towson, and to cover it up, Elena was told by the family to get rid of him.”