STATE OF BETRAYAL: A Virgil Jones Mystery (Detective Virgil Jones Mystery Series Book 2) (12 page)

“Tell you what. Call me at nine and
we’ll figure something out. That will give me a chance to check my schedule and
make sure all the appropriate department heads can be there as well.”

“If we could firm something up
right now, that would probably be best.” Ron watched as Monroe pinched her lips
together in a line and looked down at the floor. “You know what? You’re right.
I shouldn’t waste my time coming to your office if the appropriate people
aren’t going to be there. And who knows? You might have an important meeting
with the governor or something.”

Monroe let out a little laugh and
then made another mistake.

__________

Thank God…he’s
leaving.
“Oh, the governor
is much too busy to see me, I assure you, Detective. In fact, most of my
political dealings are with Bradley Pearson, the governor’s chief of staff.”

Miles laughed with her and said,
“Huh.”

“What?”

“Oh nothing, really. Most of my
dealings are with Bradley as well.”

Shit. Stop lying. It’s not
necessary
. “How do you know Bradley Pearson? I thought you said you were
with the Indianapolis Police.”

“Ron put the flat of his hand
against his forehead. “Did I? Boy, I’ve got to get a handle on that. I’m sorry.
I
used to be
with the Indianapolis Metro Homicide Unit. In fact, I was
with them for over twenty years. But my new job is Lead Detective for the state’s
Major Crimes Unit. Pearson is the one who hired me. I guess we practically work
for the same guy. Anyhow, sorry for the mix-up. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Monroe watched the cop walk down
the sidewalk and around the corner before she shut the door and picked up the phone.

__________

Miles walked away
casually, turned the
corner and once he was out of sight he picked up his pace and jogged to his
car. He took out his cell and punched in the number for their unit’s
researcher, a smart, sassy young woman named Becky, who, Ron had heard, could
find anything on anybody.

“I was just getting ready to go
home, Ron.”

“I’ll authorize the overtime.”

“Don’t need it.”

“Really? That practically makes you
a suspect.”

“A suspect for what?”

“For being mean. Who doesn’t need
overtime?”

“I guess I should have said want.
As in I don’t want it. Not tonight.” When Ron didn’t say anything he heard her
eyes roll on the other end of the line. “Okay, what?”

“Okay you’ll do it, or okay you
just want to know?”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to do
it tonight, but first thing tomorrow I want you working on this.”

“Donatti has me working the gang
thing.”

“Too bad. This comes first. It’s one
of the perks of being the boss. Maybe the only one.”

“Okay. What is it?”

“I want everything you can get me
on a woman named Abigail Monroe.”

“Monroe. Abigail. Got it.
Good-bye.”

“You sound a little irritated.”

“I’m not. But I’m about to be.
Anything else?”

“Nope. Have a great evening.”

__________

“He just left and I
mean
just
now,” Monroe said into the phone. “I need you to get over here. We’ve got some
things to talk about.”

“What did you tell him, Abby?”

“Bradley, we have to talk. You’re
the one who said we needed to get on the same page. I’m saying let’s do that.
I’m suggesting right now. In fact, I’m insisting on it.”

“Okay, I’m close anyway. I’ll be
there in five minutes.”

Monroe ended the call and sat down
on the couch, then remembered the mess in the kitchen. She got a broom and dustpan,
swept the larger pieces of glass into the pan, then ran a damp mop over the
floor. By the time she was done, Pearson was at the door. She’d have to be
careful here.
Think.

__________

Miles sat in his car
just around the corner
from Monroe’s Condo. He was willing to bet twenty genuine United States dollars—though
he had no one with whom to bet—that one of two things would happen within
the next thirty minutes. Either Monroe would leave and go somewhere, or someone
would come to her. He never would have thought it at all, except for the fact
that the entire time they’d been speaking she was lying her pretty little head
off. He didn’t know why, but he was determined to find out, even if he had to
hold her feet to the fire to do it.

Well, maybe not her feet…

__________

He would have won the
genuine
twenty United States dollars, but would have lost his ass had someone offered him
a secondary wager that said the person who would come to Monroe would be
Bradley Pearson. Miles crept forward in his car and watched as Pearson parked
right in front of Monroe’s condo and walked up to the door. He checked the
time, waited an agonizing five minutes, then got out of his own car and headed
up the walk. On the way, he thought about doubling down on his imaginary bet.
Would Pearson show himself? He couldn’t decide.

Miles rang the bell and waited.

__________

The alley cats, at it
again.
“Jesus Christ, Abby.
Cleaning up after you is a little like following an incontinent Alzheimer’s
patient around the bus depot. Why did you lie to him?”

“I don’t know. I panicked a
little.”

“A little? My God, you stupid
bitch—”

“Don’t you call me that. Don’t you
dare. You want to know why I lied? I’ll tell you. I was protecting you.”

“Me? Protecting me from what?”

“You killed him, didn’t you? You’re
the one who killed my Nicky.”

“Abby that is just absolutely
wrong. I don’t have any idea what happened to Pope.”

“You’re lying. You knew I was
sleeping with him and you couldn’t handle it. Maybe I should tell that to the
cops. How about that, hotshot?”

“I’ll tell you something, Abby, I
wish I’d never—” The doorbell cut him off. “Who is that? Are you
expecting anyone?”

“No.”

“Check the window.”

Monroe peeked out the window
closest to the door and when she saw who stood there her heart very nearly
skipped three beats. “It’s him,” she hissed at Pearson.

“Who? Miles?”

“Yes, Miles, you fucking moron. Who
else? Go back and wait in the kitchen.”

“I am not going to hide from
someone who—”

“I said go.” The look on her face
told Pearson he didn’t have a choice, at least in the moment.

“Okay. Don’t say anything.”

Monroe waited until Pearson was out
of sight before she answered the door. Then, she tried to put an exasperated look
on her face as she pulled the door open. “Oh, Detective. You’ll have to forgive
me, but I thought I made it clear that I’ve had an extremely stressful day at the
office. I’m not up for this. I’m really not. I was under the impression that we
would continue our discussion another time.”

“I’m sorry to bother you, Ms.
Monroe. The parking around here is nonexistent. I’m almost two blocks away.”

“If you have a point, Detective,
it’s lost on me.”

“I can’t find my keys. I think they
might be on the table on your back porch. Would you mind?”

Monroe huffed and said, “Wait
here.” She closed the door on him and then was back in less than a minute.
“They were on the table,” she said.

Miles nodded. “That’s what I
thought. Sorry to be a bother.”

“That’s fine, Detective. Is there
anything else?”

“No, no,” Miles said as he jiggled
the keys at her. “Just needed these.”

“Very well then. Good evening.”

“And to you, Ms. Monroe.”

The door was almost shut, but it
wasn’t Ron’s first day on the job. “Oh, Ms. Monroe? Like I said, I had to park
quite a ways down the street. I couldn’t help notice as I was walking back that
someone was at your door. Was that Bradley Pearson I saw?”

Monroe looked at Miles for a beat
and then said something in the moment that altered her future, though she never
knew it. “No, it certainly was not. I have a gentleman caller. And let me just
say, Detective, the Columbo routine is getting to be something of a bore. I’m
not sure what it is you’re after, but you’re barking up the wrong tree.” She
slammed the door in his face.

And Ron thought,
Gotcha
.

__________

Pearson came around
the corner from the
kitchen stripping off his jacket as he did. He got right up in Monroe’s face.
“What the fuck was that? What’s the matter with you? Jesus Christ, weren’t we
just having a conversation about this? You never lie to the cops, Abby. Never.”

She took a step back. “What was I
supposed to do?”

Pearson shook his head and moved to
the front door. “Wait here. Do not come outside. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“What are you going to do?”

Pearson pointed his finger at her.
“I said wait here.” He loosened his tie, undid the top button of his shirt and
then walked out the front door. He looked both directions down the sidewalk and
saw Miles just as he was about to turn the corner. “Ron! Hey, Ron, hold on a
second.”

Miles turned, saw Pearson and began
walking back. They met at the midpoint between the corner of the intersection
and the walkway that led to Monroe’s condo.

“Ron, Abby just told me what
happened. There’s been a hell of a misunderstanding here.”

Miles stared at him but didn’t
speak. It was Cop 101. If you’ve got someone circling the line, eventually
they’ll take the bait and set their own hook. “I think Abby might have been a
little intimidated back there.”

Miles stayed quiet.

“Okay, look. Abby and I, well,
we’re sort of seeing each other.”

“As in your eyes are functioning
properly, or you’re dating?”

Even Pearson grinned at that. “I
don’t know if dating is the right word for it. We’re sleeping together. I mean,
we’re not sleeping together right now…she sort of broke it off, which is a hell
of a shame because let me tell you…” Buddies now.

Miles wasn’t having it. “Here’s the
thing, Bradley. I’m investigating the murder of Nicholas Pope. Murder is
considered a capital crime in the state of Indiana. For some reason or another,
Monroe was lying to me back there, or at the very least, being extremely
evasive. My questions couldn’t have been any more basic. Withholding
information relative to a capital crime in our state makes someone an accessory
after the fact.”

“Look, Ron, you’re making this into
something it’s not. Look at me for Christ sake. I’m not exactly what any woman
would call a good catch. I’m short, round and getting rounder. When I saw a
chance with Abby I took it, but she’s not too proud of herself over it.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because the only reason she slept
with me in the first place was so that I would help her get the job of
executive director at the lottery.”

“So why lie to me about Pope?”

Pearson gave Miles a little
grimace. “That might actually be my fault. After Pope turned up dead, Abby and
I talked about it…the coincidence of the whole thing…how Jones shot and killed
James Pope twenty years ago, how that saved my life and now his son, Nicholas
turns up dead
and
he just happens to be employed by the woman I talked
into the sack so she could get the job she wanted? The entire thing really is
one big coincidence.”

“Then why not just get right out in
front of it?”

Pearson took a breath. “That’s
exactly what I’m doing right now, Ron. Neither Abby nor I have anything to hide
regarding the Pope matter. She was just trying to protect her reputation, her
place in the community. I don’t blame her. If word got out that she was hired
after I pulled the right strings and in return she slept with me as a form of
recompense she’d be ruined. The governor wouldn’t be too happy with me, either.
It’s not that complicated. Surely you can see that, can’t you, Ron?”

Nice try
. “You bet, Bradley.
Offer my apologies to Ms. Monroe, will you?”

15

__________

W
hen
Virgil woke he experienced a clarity of thought that he’d not recognized in
quite some time. He felt refreshed, but he was surprised and even a little disappointed
when he noticed that only about eight hours had passed instead of the
twenty-four to thirty-six that Bell had mentioned. The sun was out and the bedside
clock said it was just after eight in the morning. His bladder said he had to
pee.

He stood from the edge of the bed
and while his back felt a little stiff from sleep, Virgil noticed his leg
didn’t hurt at all. He went into the bathroom, took care of business and by the
time he returned to the bedroom, Sandy was there, a look of apprehension
dancing around the corners of her eyes. She kissed him, stepped back and then
asked how he felt.

“You know what? I feel pretty well.
My leg doesn’t hurt, Sandy. Not one bit.”

She smiled, then handed him a tall
glass of fruit juice. “Drink this. All of it. After you do I’ll get you a bowl
of fruit. After the fruit, Bell wants you to take some more vitamins and he has
some anti-anxiety pills for you too, but he doesn’t want you to take them
unless it’s absolutely necessary. You’ve got a lot of juice to drink over the
next week or so. Nothing to eat except organic fruits and veggies for the same
amount of time either.”

Virgil scratched the back of his
head and realized he could smell himself. “Listen, do you think all of that is
really necessary? I mean, I’ve always liked Doc Bell and all, but he said that
I’d be out for twenty-four hours. Hell, it hasn’t even been eight. Maybe nine,
I guess. I don’t remember exactly what time it was when he put me under.”

Sandy had her back to him as she
removed the sheets from the bed. When she didn’t answer, Virgil said, “I’m
going to open the windows. It’s sort of stale in here or something.”

“You can say that again.”

Virgil noticed for the first time
that he had a small clear bandage on the back of his hand. “Say, what the heck
is this?”

Sandy had the sheets balled up and
tossed them on the floor by the foot of the bed. “What?”

“This bandage.” He waved his hand
at her. “Did I cut myself or something last night? How would that have
happened? And listen, not to be too crude or anything, but my ass is kind of
sore. I’m thinking maybe we need a new mattress or something.”

Sandy sat down on the bed and
patted the mattress as an indication for him to sit next to her. “You didn’t
cut your hand. You were sound asleep all night last night.”

“So what gives?”

“Come on, sit down with me for a
minute.”

__________

“It’s from the I.V.
line,”
Sandy said. “Bell put it in
after you were out. The catheter too.”

“Catheter?” Virgil looked down at
his groin. It took him a few seconds, but he finally got it. “This isn’t
Tuesday morning, is it?”

Sandy shook her head.

“It’s been more than just a few
hours, then?”

“You could say that.”

“How long?”

Sandy rubbed the bottom of her nose
with the back of her index finger. “Bell wanted you out for the worst of it,
Virgil. He said if you’d been awake it would take twice as long and be twice as
hard. He’s been here the entire time. He’s downstairs right now. So are Murton
and Delroy. They hardly left your side the whole time.”

“How long?”

“Bell put you on a very mild I.V.
sedation that kept you under for the most part. Hydrated too. Also, the
vitamins were an essential part of—”

He was starting to get irritated.
“Sandy, how long?”

“Let’s see, tonight is fish
Thursday at the bar, so…”

__________

“What? Three days?”
Virgil couldn’t believe it. “He kept me under
for three days?”

“It was really only two and a
half.”

“Sandy, he told me it was going to
be twenty-four hours tops.”

She shook her head. “No, he said
it’d be
at least
twenty-four to thirty-six hours.”

Virgil’s hands were trembling
slightly. Adrenaline, he thought. He also heard a loud grinding noise coming
from the other room. “What the hell is that? It sounds like someone is running
a wood chipper in the kitchen.”

“It’s probably Delroy. He’s
fascinated with our new juicer.”

“I have to tell you Sandy, I feel
sort of violated or something.”

“How else do you feel though?”

“Kind of pissed, actually.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

When he didn’t say anything else,
Sandy kissed him on the cheek, patted his thigh and stood from the bed. “Take a
shower, Virgil. And you’re welcome. I’ll be in the kitchen. You might want to
think about keeping that beard going too. I kind of like it.”

She closed the door softly behind
her.

__________

Virgil took his time
in the shower.
He also shaved.
Three
days?

__________

When he walked into
the
kitchen,
Delroy and Murton were there with Sandy and Bell. The four of them all had evil
grins on their faces. It didn’t take long though before Virgil was grinning
right along with them. Sandy handed him about a hundred vitamins, which he took
with another glass of juice. Delroy was leaning against the counter, munching
on a raw carrot. Sandy walked over and stood next to him and when she did, he leaned
close and whispered something in her ear. Then he smiled, pointed the end of
his half-eaten carrot at Virgil and said, “How you do, you?”

Virgil set the empty juice glass
down on the table and thought for a moment before he said anything. “This is later,
isn’t it?”

Delroy tilted his head, turned the
corners of his mouth down and nodded just so. “Dat up to more of you than more
of me, but, yeah, mon, it might be.”

“Thank you, Delroy.”

Delroy threw his head back and
laughed his big loud Jamaican laugh. “Respect, mon, respect.” Then he set about
chopping up more fruits and vegetables. “You know what Delroy tink?” He pointed
a carrot at Virgil again. “Delroy tink we should get some of these juicers for
the bar. We could open up earlier in da morning and sell fresh juice. Five
bucks a cup. I tell you something else, mon. If we start using fresh juice in
our mixed drinks instead of dat pre-made mix we always buy, they be knocking
down the door for more. You wait and see.”

He was completely serious. Virgil
looked at Murton who simply shrugged. “Whatever you think Delroy. You manage
the bar.”

“Good. Delroy get some then. Maybe
a new sign too. We call it Jonesy’s Rastabarian. How ‘bout dat, mon?”

“How about one thing at a time and
we’ll see?”

Delroy laughed his big Jamaican
laugh again. Yeah, mon. One ting at a time. Nothing wrong with dat, no.” Then
he looked at Murton and pointed his finger at him, the change in his expression
quick and serious. “Keep him out of trouble. It on you.” Then he walked over to
the back door. “Delroy have to get to work now. It fish Thursday.”

After the door was closed Virgil
looked at Sandy. “What did he say to you?”

Sandy looked like she was trying to
decide whether or not to say anything, but she finally did. She tucked her chin
into her chest before she spoke. “He said, ‘I know dat man like he my own
child. You watch, you. He going to say tank you to Delroy.’”

“Jesus Christ, Small,” Murton said.
“I love you and all, but that might be the worst attempt at a Jamaican accent
I’ve ever heard.”

Sandy picked up a dishrag and threw
it at Murton. It hit him square in the face, but it did little to muffle his
laughter, or Virgil’s.

They all stood there laughing and
Virgil could feel the relief, like a weight had been lifted from his soul and
the thought crossed his mind that the people in his life had once again saved
him. He was free.

Or so he thought.

__________

The doc got him seated
at the kitchen table and gave Virgil another exam. Then he started in
with more questions.

“Tell me how you’re feeling.”

Still a little pissed that you
kept me under for three days.
“I feel pretty damn good, Doc. I guess I
needed the rest, huh?”

“You could say that. The type of
strain your system has been under for the last few months is not to be taken
lightly, Virgil. You’ve stressed yourself physically—not to mention
emotionally—to the breaking point. That’s not an exaggeration. If you
were ten years older, based on what I’ve seen, you wouldn’t have made it.”

Virgil tried not to let his
skepticism show. “Bell, that seems a little dramatic to me. I feel fine.”

“Of course you do. Now. And if you
continue to do what I say, you’ll continue to get better. But your body has to
heal.”

“Okay. I get it. I’ll keep taking
the vitamins and all that.”

Bell bit into his lower lip. “You
sound sort of irritated, Virgil.”

“Well, if I’m being honest with
you, Bell, I guess I’m sort of pissed that you had me out for so long.”

“It was the best way to control
you, medically speaking. Think of it as a medical procedure, one where you had
to be sedated, because that’s exactly what it was.”

“Yeah, except you didn’t tell me
ahead of time.”

Bell reached into his bag and
pulled out a clipboard with some paperwork attached and set it on the table.
“Is that your signature on the bottom there?”

Virgil refused to look at the
paper. “I didn’t get a chance to read it.”

“Did you read any of it?”

“Yes. I started to read it, but
then you were talking and Sandy…”

Bell was still taking notes, as if
the nature of their conversation was of little importance. He spoke without
looking up from his notepad. “What’s the first line say right there at the top?
It’s the part that’s in big bold red letters. Never mind, I’ll tell you what it
says. It says ‘Read this document in its entirety before signing.’ If I’m not
mistaken—and I’m not—it goes on to say that failure to read the
entire document before signing does not invalidate your signature or your
consent to treatment. Always read the fine print, Jonesy. The bold print too.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Fucking doctors.

__________

Bell put the paperwork
away.
“Listen, you and I, we’ve
known each other a long time. You know damn good and well that anything I do to
you is going to be with your best interest in mind.”

“I know, Bell. It’s just that when
I was in the hospital after…well, after I got my ass kicked, when I realized
how long I’d been under, it sort of freaked me out. This kind of feels the same
way. It’s almost sort of claustrophobic after the fact. Maybe it shouldn’t
bother me, but it does.”

“That’s understandable, Virgil, but
hear me when I say this: You are not out of the woods yet.”

“I thought you said this would do
the trick.”

“If by ‘this’ you mean the little
nap you took and the intravenous fluids and vitamins I gave you, then no. That
was just to get you over the hump. That was the part that helped you from an
emotional and physiological standpoint. What I’m talking about is healing the damage
you’ve done to your body. We’ve got to draw the toxins out of your liver and
let your body repair itself.”

That sounded reasonable. “Okay. How
do we do that?” Sandy was standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot
and Virgil could smell the aroma of fresh ground coffee. Before Bell had a
chance to answer, Virgil looked at Sandy and said, “Is something wrong with our
coffee maker?”

“No, but this is the best way to do
this.”

“It sure smells good.” Virgil
looked back at Bell. “I can have coffee, right?”

“Oh yeah. You can have coffee. As a
matter of fact, that’s how we’re going to get the toxins out of your liver.”

“Hey, no argument here.” Virgil
smiled. Things were suddenly looking up. “You sure won’t need me to sign a
release for this part of the treatment, I can tell you that. I love coffee.”

“Jonesy, I want you to give me your
word,” he pointed his finger at Virgil as he spoke, “which I’ve never known you
to break, that you’ll take this coffee as often as I tell you for as long as I
tell you.”

“Sure, Bell. That’s no problem.”

“I mean it, Virgil. Give me your
word.” He put his hand out to shake.

Virgil grasped his hand and they
shook on it. “I give you my word, Bell. Whatever you say goes.”

“Great. Sandy, Murton? You guys
heard him. You’re my witnesses.”

Sandy and Murton both agreed with
Bell, except Virgil noticed that Murton was chewing on the inside of his lip.

“Fine. That’s just fine, then,”
Bell said.

“In fact,” Virgil said, “if it’s
all the same to you, I think I’ll have a cup right now. Can I get you one?”

Murton began laughing so hard his
eyes started to water.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, Jonesy. Nothing at all. Say,
I’m going to head down to the bar. Maybe I’ll see you later, okay?” He kissed
Sandy on the cheek, gave Bell a pat on the shoulder and walked out the back
door. Virgil thought he heard him say ‘oh boy’ under his breath.

“Will one of you guys please tell
me what’s going on here?”

Bell looked at Sandy, then over to
Virgil. “Ever heard of the Gerson Therapy?”

__________

“You want me to do
what?”