“Hell, that pill box could
have been left there three weeks ago.”
Don glared at Fred for a moment and then snapped, “I hardly think Mrs.
VanBuren needs Midol anymore!”
“Who do you think was with him,” the Chief asked.
“How in the hell should I know,” Don snapped and then quickly turned
to Fred with a look that could kill.
Fred nodded and then added, “I think Don is hoping that the daughter
is still alive.”
“Then whose body is in the coroner’s office?”
“I don’t know,” Don said.
The Chief laughed a moment. “Well, if believing she’s still alive
helps you catch the criminal, then so be it. Just don’t screw this one up!”
Don gulped the last of the coffee and then tossed the empty cup in the
trash. He turned and glared at Fred but didn’t say anything more. He was
clearly not happy at what Fred said to the Chief just then.
Don walked over to his desk and sat down. He contemplated what to do
next. It was useless to go to the hospital. As long as the Senator was in
surgery he wouldn’t be able to talk. It would be a while after surgery before
the Senator would be able to communicate to anyone.
Chapter 13
The day didn’t end soon enough for Don and Fred. Wanting to go out for
a drink didn’t sit well with him either. Don had wished he took that stance
last night and then maybe he would not feel like crap this evening. But he held
his ground, and once the clock hit six o’clock he was history.
Don sat at the kitchen table with a plate of food in front of him. He
moved the pieces of meat with his fork but didn’t have the stomach to eat.
Maggie was going out to her bridge club so she was not eating that night. She
was busy at the sink starting to clean up the dishes so she could leave soon.
Don held up a fork but it was not to eat the morsel of meat. He teased
Bear, who was sitting on his hind legs begging Don for the piece of meat.
Maggie, hearing Don coaxing the dog, turned to the two quickly. All
she did was point an accusing finger at Don as she stared at him for the
longest time.
“Don’t you dare give him food from your plate,” she snapped.
Don took the piece of pork chop off his fork and tossed it to Bear and
then smiled up at Maggie.
“He’s hungry.”
“He’d eat his dog food if he couldn’t count on you giving him table
scraps.”
“I’m not really hungry anyway,” Don said.
Maggie walked up to Don and tapped him lightly on the back of his
head. Don winced in pain. He had all but forgotten the injury he sustained
earlier in the day.
“That didn’t hurt,” Maggie mocked.
“It’s not that. I got hit in the head earlier today,” he said.
Maggie suddenly showed concern. She ran her hand across the back of
Don’s head and felt the goose egg that was there. Then she quickly got closer
and examined the wound.
“Oh my God, you’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing, really.”
“Did you have it checked out?”
Don pushed her hand aside. “It wasn’t that bad.”
Maggie didn’t want to argue with him just then. She walked back to the
sink, shaking her head. “I don’t even know why I bother,” she snapped. “You
don’t talk to me, half the time you don’t eat the food I cook, and you wonder
why Jackie kicked you out?”
“It’s not your food, Ma. And leave Jackie out of it.”
“I’m just saying,” Maggie said and then Don cut her off.
“It’s this case I’m on. Nothing is adding up, and it’s only getting
worse with the body count growing.”
“Your father always managed to keep the work at the station house.”
“He had a desk job the last five years on the force.”
Don thought about his father. He may have had a desk job the last five
years, but he was still killed in the line of duty when a drugged up gang
banger got a 'hold of an officer’s gun at the station house and opened fire,
killing Don’s father point blank.
Don slowly got up and took his plate to the sink. He put his arm
around Maggie and then took
have been left there three weeks ago.”
Don glared at Fred for a moment and then snapped, “I hardly think Mrs.
VanBuren needs Midol anymore!”
“Who do you think was with him,” the Chief asked.
“How in the hell should I know,” Don snapped and then quickly turned
to Fred with a look that could kill.
Fred nodded and then added, “I think Don is hoping that the daughter
is still alive.”
“Then whose body is in the coroner’s office?”
“I don’t know,” Don said.
The Chief laughed a moment. “Well, if believing she’s still alive
helps you catch the criminal, then so be it. Just don’t screw this one up!”
Don gulped the last of the coffee and then tossed the empty cup in the
trash. He turned and glared at Fred but didn’t say anything more. He was
clearly not happy at what Fred said to the Chief just then.
Don walked over to his desk and sat down. He contemplated what to do
next. It was useless to go to the hospital. As long as the Senator was in
surgery he wouldn’t be able to talk. It would be a while after surgery before
the Senator would be able to communicate to anyone.
Chapter 13
The day didn’t end soon enough for Don and Fred. Wanting to go out for
a drink didn’t sit well with him either. Don had wished he took that stance
last night and then maybe he would not feel like crap this evening. But he held
his ground, and once the clock hit six o’clock he was history.
Don sat at the kitchen table with a plate of food in front of him. He
moved the pieces of meat with his fork but didn’t have the stomach to eat.
Maggie was going out to her bridge club so she was not eating that night. She
was busy at the sink starting to clean up the dishes so she could leave soon.
Don held up a fork but it was not to eat the morsel of meat. He teased
Bear, who was sitting on his hind legs begging Don for the piece of meat.
Maggie, hearing Don coaxing the dog, turned to the two quickly. All
she did was point an accusing finger at Don as she stared at him for the
longest time.
“Don’t you dare give him food from your plate,” she snapped.
Don took the piece of pork chop off his fork and tossed it to Bear and
then smiled up at Maggie.
“He’s hungry.”
“He’d eat his dog food if he couldn’t count on you giving him table
scraps.”
“I’m not really hungry anyway,” Don said.
Maggie walked up to Don and tapped him lightly on the back of his
head. Don winced in pain. He had all but forgotten the injury he sustained
earlier in the day.
“That didn’t hurt,” Maggie mocked.
“It’s not that. I got hit in the head earlier today,” he said.
Maggie suddenly showed concern. She ran her hand across the back of
Don’s head and felt the goose egg that was there. Then she quickly got closer
and examined the wound.
“Oh my God, you’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing, really.”
“Did you have it checked out?”
Don pushed her hand aside. “It wasn’t that bad.”
Maggie didn’t want to argue with him just then. She walked back to the
sink, shaking her head. “I don’t even know why I bother,” she snapped. “You
don’t talk to me, half the time you don’t eat the food I cook, and you wonder
why Jackie kicked you out?”
“It’s not your food, Ma. And leave Jackie out of it.”
“I’m just saying,” Maggie said and then Don cut her off.
“It’s this case I’m on. Nothing is adding up, and it’s only getting
worse with the body count growing.”
“Your father always managed to keep the work at the station house.”
“He had a desk job the last five years on the force.”
Don thought about his father. He may have had a desk job the last five
years, but he was still killed in the line of duty when a drugged up gang
banger got a 'hold of an officer’s gun at the station house and opened fire,
killing Don’s father point blank.
Don slowly got up and took his plate to the sink. He put his arm
around Maggie and then took
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