minutes. Mrs. Rosemont and I were just having a pleasant conversation. If she wants me to leave, I’ll be happy to go – no need to be all unfriendly like.” Mentally, I was counting off the seconds in my head, wondering how long it would take for the call to be processed and a unit to be dispatched. This was a pretty nice part of town, so maybe ten minutes?
“Get out while you can still walk out! I don’t know what lies you’ve been filling her head with …” His eyes drifted down to the phone book opened to cardiologists.
Saying ‘shit’ a second time would be repetitive. He bull rushed me and I threw the nearest vase at him as hard as I could. Then I grabbed the second vase, which I smashed into his head while he drove me into the wall, leaving a Mike Ross shaped dent in the drywall. Well, at least when the cops got here, they’d really find a domestic disturbance.
I didn’t have time for clever commentary as we traded blows at close range. There wasn’t much snap in my punch right at his throat, but it was enough to make him stumble backwards. People like to breathe every so often. Trying to press my advantage I faked a grab at him and kicked at the side of his knee.
Whether it hurt him, I’ll never know because all I saw was stars when that bastard hit me – hard. I held it together and avoided blacking out, but that’s about all I was capable of at the moment.
I blocked one or two punches, but he got a grip on me and I was in real trouble. Instinctively, I broke his hold on me, but he countered with a better hold, which unfortunately happened to be around my neck.
He scrunched his neck down to keep me from doing the same to him, so I tried boxing his ears, which didn’t work as well as I needed it to. I still wasn’t getting any air.
Already starting to flail weakly, I did the only thing I could think of, I smacked his forehead with the palm of my hand and rammed my thumb into his eye – cheap, dirty, but effective. He dropped me and then he kicked me, but at least I had enough air to scream in pain!
Spitting the blood out of my mouth, I tried to get to my feet, waiting for the next blow. It never came. I saw him collapsed by the mantle. A brass candlestick dangled from Elsbeth Snowden’s hands.
I wheezed out my thanks to her and look over at Megan, who was staring open mouthed at the floating candlestick, pointing with her finger. I stumbled over and cut off the voice recorder.
“Is that?”
“Yes, it’s Elsbeth. She finally stood up to him. You can put the candlestick down now, Elsbeth.”
Thirty minutes later a paramedic was checking me. She told me that my throat would be sore and to rest it while checking to see if any of the cuts or abrasions on my head required stitches. Satisfied she let me up and I walked back towards the house to make sure Megan was okay.
“Ross?”
“Oh joy, Detective Wycheck! My day just got a bit better. Make sure you check her ice tea for bluing solution.”
“We already found the dropper bottle in his truck and the lady is backing your story. We’ll take your statement and photograph your injuries. Your voice recorder stays with us until we make an official copy for evidence. Right now, we’re charging him with assault on you, but if you’re right about the drink, it’ll go to conspiracy to commit murder real quick.”
“So we’re friends now?”
He leaned in closer and brushed some of the remaining plaster off my shoulder with a sneer on his face. “Don’t count on it, Ross. I don’t like you. I don’t think I’ll ever like you and I’ll be happy if I never have to see you outside of this case again.”
I felt a bit cocky as I brushed past him, “Aw, where’s the love, Officer? Can’t we all just get along?”
Back inside, Megan sat on her couch drinking what I hoped was a non-poisoned tea. “How are you holding up?”
She looked at me through those monstrous glasses, “Surprisingly well. Is she still here?”
I nodded
“Get out while you can still walk out! I don’t know what lies you’ve been filling her head with …” His eyes drifted down to the phone book opened to cardiologists.
Saying ‘shit’ a second time would be repetitive. He bull rushed me and I threw the nearest vase at him as hard as I could. Then I grabbed the second vase, which I smashed into his head while he drove me into the wall, leaving a Mike Ross shaped dent in the drywall. Well, at least when the cops got here, they’d really find a domestic disturbance.
I didn’t have time for clever commentary as we traded blows at close range. There wasn’t much snap in my punch right at his throat, but it was enough to make him stumble backwards. People like to breathe every so often. Trying to press my advantage I faked a grab at him and kicked at the side of his knee.
Whether it hurt him, I’ll never know because all I saw was stars when that bastard hit me – hard. I held it together and avoided blacking out, but that’s about all I was capable of at the moment.
I blocked one or two punches, but he got a grip on me and I was in real trouble. Instinctively, I broke his hold on me, but he countered with a better hold, which unfortunately happened to be around my neck.
He scrunched his neck down to keep me from doing the same to him, so I tried boxing his ears, which didn’t work as well as I needed it to. I still wasn’t getting any air.
Already starting to flail weakly, I did the only thing I could think of, I smacked his forehead with the palm of my hand and rammed my thumb into his eye – cheap, dirty, but effective. He dropped me and then he kicked me, but at least I had enough air to scream in pain!
Spitting the blood out of my mouth, I tried to get to my feet, waiting for the next blow. It never came. I saw him collapsed by the mantle. A brass candlestick dangled from Elsbeth Snowden’s hands.
I wheezed out my thanks to her and look over at Megan, who was staring open mouthed at the floating candlestick, pointing with her finger. I stumbled over and cut off the voice recorder.
“Is that?”
“Yes, it’s Elsbeth. She finally stood up to him. You can put the candlestick down now, Elsbeth.”
Thirty minutes later a paramedic was checking me. She told me that my throat would be sore and to rest it while checking to see if any of the cuts or abrasions on my head required stitches. Satisfied she let me up and I walked back towards the house to make sure Megan was okay.
“Ross?”
“Oh joy, Detective Wycheck! My day just got a bit better. Make sure you check her ice tea for bluing solution.”
“We already found the dropper bottle in his truck and the lady is backing your story. We’ll take your statement and photograph your injuries. Your voice recorder stays with us until we make an official copy for evidence. Right now, we’re charging him with assault on you, but if you’re right about the drink, it’ll go to conspiracy to commit murder real quick.”
“So we’re friends now?”
He leaned in closer and brushed some of the remaining plaster off my shoulder with a sneer on his face. “Don’t count on it, Ross. I don’t like you. I don’t think I’ll ever like you and I’ll be happy if I never have to see you outside of this case again.”
I felt a bit cocky as I brushed past him, “Aw, where’s the love, Officer? Can’t we all just get along?”
Back inside, Megan sat on her couch drinking what I hoped was a non-poisoned tea. “How are you holding up?”
She looked at me through those monstrous glasses, “Surprisingly well. Is she still here?”
I nodded
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