Ting-A-Ling (14 page)

The air didn’t feel as heavy as it had a few minutes ago. Maybe I really was helping Manning out and that was all he wanted.

“One more thing, perhaps you could help us with this,” Manning said. He punched a button again and then gave a smirk as another image came up on the screen. Judging from the angle of view the camera must have been mounted high up in a corner of the kitchen.

The frozen image displayed Paris standing with his arms folded across his chest. He was leaning back against the table covered with onion skins, empty boxes and spice bottles. To his left and at a ninety-degree angle was the stove with the containers just as I’d described them earlier. The lids sat on top and were pulled halfway off the containers. Across from the stove was the sink. The image was frozen on the screen, but you could make out the steady stream of water flowing from the tap and if you looked closely you could see a cloud of steam rising from the stack of frying pans. Water. Scalding water. A figure with his back to the camera stood across from Paris. There was no doubt that figure was me.

“Let’s just see what happens here, shall we?” Manning said and then put the image in motion, not waiting for my answer.

There wasn’t any audio, thank God. But even in the every-few-second intervals the jerky film left no question as to what was happening. Paris’s head appeared to take a harder whack than I realized when I kicked his feet out from underneath him and he caught the edge of the table as he went down. I had him yanked off the floor and marching across the room toward the sink almost immediately. Then I slammed him into the edge of the sink and his legs sort of flew out from beneath him.

When it showed me thrusting his head into the scalding tap water I caught myself rubbing my hands protectively beneath the table. Even though there wasn’t any sound, I could hear him screaming. Then, just to top off our little love dance, he was down on the ground looking like he was gasping for life when I back handed him with the aluminum frying pan. He had been threatening to sue me at that point of our discussion, but on the jerking security tape it looked like he was pleading for mercy. We didn’t need any sound here either. I think all of us heard the dull ‘thunk’ as I bounced the large frying pan off thick skull.

Manning froze the image of a dazed Renee Paris looking frightened out of his wits while I lorded over him with a frying pan.

“Well, I don’t know. I guess like you said, Mr. Haskell, you were just there to deliver a message. Right?”

Chapter Thirty-One

“Come on, Louie, cut
me some slack. Do you really think I would have done that if I knew there was a God damn security camera filming everything?”

“Don’t even go there. The fact of the matter is you did it. You assaulted the bastard and Manning’s got the entire thing on that security tape. Christ, you’re lucky YouTube hasn’t gotten hold of the thing and it went viral, out there for everyone to see.”

We were driving back to the office. Manning had given me possibly the coldest smile I’d ever seen followed up with, “I’m sure we’ll be in touch,” as we departed.

“And another thing, thanks for eliminating the twin brother defense. Claiming you were the only other individual there. Reminding Manning about the
one
set of footprints, the
one
set of tire tracks,” Louie said.

“I thought I was helping.”

“Jesus Christ, ever hear of the Stockholm syndrome? You were helping all right, Dev. Helping Manning build his case against you.”

“You were really thinking of using that, the twin brother thing?”

“It may have been our best option. It’s a half-step up from pleading someone’s an orphan after they murdered their parents. Look, like I may have suggested before, the damn clock’s ticking. Manning is just getting all his facts lined up until he has an airtight case against you. Once he gets a confirmation on who was roasted in that fire he’ll be coming for you. Today’s little academy award presentation makes you suspect numero uno.”

“Shit.”

“You can say that again.”

“Shit.”

Louie looked at me, shook his head and said, “I gotta be in court in forty minutes. I’m pleading for an alternative treatment sentence instead of incarceration for a DUI defendant. Once I’m finished with that you’re buying the drinks.”

“You can’t be thinking of celebrating after what just transpired.”

“You kidding? God, no. We’re gonna start planning.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

About all we came
up with in our planning session was a hefty bar tab that I got stuck with. Oh, and Louie’s cab fare home.

I, on the other hand had the brilliant, alcohol fueled idea to drive past Danielle’s house. Just to see if there might be a light on in the place after two in the morning. There wasn’t. But, there was someone on my ass as I drove home. I’d been drinking with Louie which was almost the same thing as binge drinking. I made two different turns down side streets and the headlights still followed right behind me. They may have dropped back a bit, but they were still there. I figured I had enough on my plate and didn’t need to be stopped for driving under the influence, so I pulled over to the curb on Portland Avenue and got out of my car.

I walked down two doors and then up the set of front steps like I was going to the house. The headlights drove past and I pretended not to notice. I watched the car fade down the street, some non-descript gray thing. I waited while it continued out of sight. I was freezing by the time the thing disappeared and I rushed back to my car only to realize that in my haste I’d left my keys in the ignition and locked the door.

I was maybe a good half-mile from home and had no other option but to head in that direction. It was possibly the coldest seven or eight minutes of my life. I couldn’t feel my fingers or my feet by the time I arrived at my place. My face was numb and my ears were so cold they’d stopped hurting three blocks back. The cold had made me dreadfully sober. Then, just to make things perfect, I had to dig through about two feet of snow, looking for the fake rock where I hid my spare house key. I found the damn thing, but it had taken another five minutes. I couldn’t stop shivering once I got inside so I ran a hot shower and stood underneath it for the better part of forty minutes. I tossed an extra quilt and a heavy wool coat over the down comforter on my bed and then crawled underneath.

When I woke the following morning my hands and feet still hurt and the skin on my ears and cheeks looked burned, frost bite.

Chapter Thirty-Three

This morning the temperature
had risen five degrees, to a balmy minus twenty-six on the Fahrenheit scale. I got dressed and then dug out some skin cream that a former girlfriend had left behind. The stuff was sort of purple tinted and lavender scented, but I slathered it on my face and ears anyway. I didn’t plan on walking and I figured a taxi over to my car would run me at least ten bucks, so I phoned Heidi.

“Well, Dev. Gee, a call first thing in the morning. It’s either gotta be bail money, by the way my answer is still
no
. Or, you want me to pick up some groceries so you don’t have to venture outside, in which case the answer is the same, no.”

“Good morning, Heidi. As a matter of fact, wrong on both counts. Look, if you don’t have anything going on, I had an appointment cancel and I just wanted to see about taking you out for breakfast, that’s all.”

“Really?” She didn’t sound convinced.

“Yeah, look, no problem if you’re busy. I was just thinking it would be nice to maybe chat and…”

“Chat?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re sure you’re not in jail?”

“No. I mean, yes, I’m sure I’m not in jail. Look, if you can join me, you pick the place.”

“Really? You’re not thinking your usual dreadfully sleazy fast-food, greasy diner sort of place?”

“Honest. You pick.”

“The White Hen? You know how I just love that place.”

“Perfect, meet you there in twenty?”

“Gee, thanks Dev, see you there.”

She sounded all excited. I figured that was the place she’d pick. I could almost see it from my front door. I’d buy her breakfast and then have her give me a ride back to my car. I stuffed a spare car key in my pocket and headed out the door.

Heidi ordered some sort of calorie-free vegan side dish that came with weak tea. I was famished after almost freezing to death on my walk home the night before and ordered eggs Benedict with extra hollandaise sauce, a side of blueberry pancakes and a side of bacon.

“Hey, can I ask you something about the other morning when I drove you back to Bunnies?”

“What? So that’s what this was about. I knew you acting nice was too good to be true. No, Dev, you’re not going to ride me after breakfast so just stop right there. Honest to God, sometimes I just can’t believe you. You’re never satisfied, you just…”

“Heidi, calm down. That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. What I wanted to ask you about was my phone number that was supposed to be in the ladies room at Bunnies.”

“Yeah, we already covered this. I told you it wasn’t there, we all went in and looked.”

“The woman who called me might have been a little over served.”

“There’s a surprise.”

“Can I finish here? Maybe it wasn’t on the door of the bathroom stall. I’m thinking she might have made a mistake and it was on a wall or by the mirror or something.”

“Hmmm-mmm, great idea, except that there were five of us and we looked all over the place. We really wanted to find it. I told you Karen was going to take a picture with her phone and post it on Facebook.”

“She was going to post my phone number on Facebook? What the hell?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot, business is so good you don’t need the advertising. Besides relax, like I said it wasn’t there.”

“And you don’t think it could have been wiped off when they were cleaning?”

“Cleaning? Are you kidding? We’re lucky they have toilet paper in there.”

She was picking at some spinach leaves with her fork when I pushed away my empty eggs Benedict platter and started in on the blueberry pancakes.

“How can you eat all that? The cholesterol alone will probably give you a massive coronary.”

“I’ve been walking and it works up an appetite.”

“Walking? You? Yeah right, sure you have. When?”

“Just last night as a matter of fact.”

“Last night? Get out of here. It was about minus forty with the wind chill.”

“You’re telling me. Actually, I locked my keys in the car and had to walk home. Damn near froze to death.”

“You walked home? From where? The Spot?”

“No, actually not too far from here. Well, probably a mile or two. I’m heading back that way once we finish.”

“Dev, it’s still about minus twenty out there. Let me give you a ride.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“You just bought breakfast, it’s the least I can do.”

“You sure?”

“I insist, now not another word.”

Heidi’s breakfast ran seven bucks so I considered myself three dollars ahead of the game.

As we pulled away from the White Hen, she said, “Buckle up, and are you wearing perfume or something?”

“No. Oh, you know what? I think I actually got some minor frost bite last night walking home so I put some cream on my face this morning. The stuff was lavender scented.”

She shot me a look like she didn’t believe me.

“Honest. Hey, take a right on Portland, my car is up there a mile or two.”

Once she turned I could see my car at the far end of the block.

“Is that it just up there?” Heidi asked.

“Yeah, hmmm-mmm, it seemed a lot further last night. Probably the cold.”

As we pulled alongside I spotted a parking ticket on my windshield.

“Naughty, naughty.” Heidi laughed.

“Are you kidding me? This is like the second one in about two weeks.”

“I know, what were they thinking? Imagine making you follow the same parking restrictions the rest of us have to abide by.”

“Whatever. Thanks for the ride.”

She just laughed at me as I got out and then drove away. The Lincoln slowly groaned to life. I knew the feeling in this weather. I debated about going to the office or back to bed. Surprisingly, I opted for the responsible move.

Chapter Thirty-Four

“I was beginning to
wonder if you were gonna show up or just stay in bed. I left some coffee for you,” Louie said.

He was seated at his picnic table and didn’t look up. A number of files were haphazardly spread out in front of him and he was furiously tapping keys on his laptop. He was wearing his jacket and a wool cap emblazoned with a green shamrock. ‘Ireland’ surrounded the shamrock in gold letters.

“You just in?”