Chapter 76

word count 1495

Hanging up the phone, Hank rubbed his chin and pondered, his eyes riveted on little Adam. He pulled Buzz aside.

"Boss, we'd better get Adam to the hospital for that test pronto. Forensics says the source of the oleander was the mayonnaise at the house."

"What? How the hell?"

"One step at a time, boss. Let's make sure Adam is okay first." I have a feeling he will be, Hank thought. He had a good theory going in his mind. Adam was starting to look less than innocent.

Buzz turned to the boy. "Hey, Adam! Surprise! We're going home."

A crestfallen expression on Adam's face gave him second thought.

"Can't I just stay here? Isn't Mrs. Dunn still in the hospital?"

"She's being discharged tomorrow. I offered her a permanent job as our live-in housekeeper. Isn't that great?"

Adam remained glum. "I want to stay here!"

Buzz leaned on his cane, his mind churning. This was breaking his heart, being rejected by his boy. "Well, how about a compromise...you can come back and spend the whole weekend with Elliot."

Buzz had said hissed out the words with an edge Adam recognized. It was that impatient snap that preceded when he would usually next hit his mom, when he became exasperated. The kid's pulse quickened, and he looked to Elliot. The other boy's face registered a similar alarm. He nodded to his friend to say it was time to cooperate with the big cop.

"Okay," he said in a small voice.

Hank stepped in with the next bad news, taking the pressure off Buzz. "One other thing, champ. We need to stop by the hospital and get you a little test, to make sure you don't have the same illness your dad and Mrs. Dunn had."

"What kind of test?"

"Just a little blood test, no big deal." Hank secretly hoped Adam wouldn't make a stink about it. "After, we can get ice cream. Isn't that right, Buzz!"

"Yeah, yeah, ice cream!" Buzz agreed. "I've been in the hospital. I haven't had that in a while. Sounds good to me."

"Okay," Adam said, not his most enthusiastic response.

Later, at the hospital, when Nurse Richards rolled up Adam's sleeve, she was shocked. Multiple cuts in neat red lines, riddled with fresh, dried blood streaked across his arm.

"What happened here?" she asked using a gentle tone. She didn't want to frighten him.

The boy appeared flustered. "I don't know," he stammered.

The nurse nodded and went on with her task. When she ushered Adam back to the waiting room, she pulled Buzz aside. "Mr. Miller, Adam has some suspicious cuts all over his arm. I saw it when I took his blood. There may be something going on there you need to address."

"Huh? Like what?"

She leaned closer. "A lot of the kids today cut themselves when they're feeling stressed. The process soothes them, takes their minds off bigger problems, unbearable stresses. While being a distraction, it becomes a form of relief. It tends to become an addictive behavior. I can refer you to a specialist, a child psychologist who might be able to help him."

"A psychologist?" The very nomenclature sent ripples of trepidation through Buzz. He'd had a lot of training at the precinct from the psychologists, but he barely stomached the classes. He listened in the sessions, but really, it was for other people, not him and his family. First of all, he thought they were a bunch of charlatans. "Talk therapy"--"behavior modification"--he'd always considered it a pile of bunk. If you're having a problem, you pull yourself up by your bootstraps and get your shit together, not go whining to some doctor who took good money, lots of it, to let you do all the talking, all the work. And how helpful were they anyway? Another thought raced into his mind which chilled him to the bone. What if Adam while doing all this "talking" told the doctor that his dad roughed up his mom from time to time. And oh, what if Adam told the doctor he in fact wanted to kill his father. Years of therapy, a drain on his resources, and possible big trouble for him if word got out he beat his wife, he'd have to think about this. Yes, he'd definitely have to think about it.

Later, when they got to the house, Buzz felt flighty. He pulled Hank aside. "Hank, I'd really like to stop by at work and get caught up. Could you keep an eye on him for a little while. Besides, it might be better if he has some time to chill before I'm in the house with him." He looked aside. "We've been having some problems, he and I."

Hank nodded. He'd seen enough at Elliot's house to know there was a problem. "Can you drive with your knees?"

"Oh, yeah. No problem."

"I'll call my daughter to stop over so I can meet you at the station later."

"Thanks, buddy. See you there."

***

When Buzz walked into the squad room, applause rang out once the initial silence and shock of seeing him in their midst again had dissipated.

"Boss!"

"Whoa! Who let you loose?"

The whole room erupted in exclamations of surprise as the big cop was mobbed. Gil, who had been bent over mounds of paperwork, looked up and his heart skipped a beat. Oh shit! What about this mess with Trudy, he thought. Hank had called him and reiterated his talk with Trudy in lock up. She'd been jealous! She's in jail and it's my fault. He's gonna kill me for stepping around with his lady, enough to make her do what she did with jealousy about him and Simone. And he and the female cop hadn't really done anything!  And oh crap! The Lichtenstein case. He'd totally screwed up the Lichtenstein case! Diversion, diversion, he thought.

Simone was still there, sitting across from him at the computer, filling in paperwork for the Leichtenstein file. He leaned closer and whispered to her.

"Would you play along with me a minute? I gotta take my boss's mind off of some recent events and I need your help. Forgive me for this, but..." He ran around to her side of the desk and grabbed the female cop in a passionate embrace, next locking lips.

At this moment, Buzz arrived.

"BETTENCOURT!"

Gil pulled back. "Oh boss! You're back! I'd like you to meet my new lady, Officer Beverly Simone. She's from Weston PD."

Simone was left reeling, a fresh blush to her cheeks. She stroked her face with a trembling hand.

"What's she doing here?"

Gil was surprised the boss remained in this strictly business mode. He thought he would see a little of the old "Buzzy" charm come out, like it always did whenever a beautiful woman was in focus. It appeared his diversion wasn't working so well. Also, he'd hoped the display with Simone might release him from the trouble of being in cahoots with Trudy, the boss's property, making it look like he'd moved on. Buzz still stood there, waiting for an answer.

Gil cleared his throat and took on an official posture. "She's here to finish up the paperwork on the Leichtenstein investigation."

"What? Did something happen? Did you bring him in?"

Gil rubbed his hands together nervously. "Well, we brought him in, Officer Simone and I. He was in a Weston hospital, you know. And well, unbeknown to us, he managed to wriggle around and get the cuffs around his throat and...well, he died in the squad car while we were driving. Strangulation." Gil swallowed and waited for the explosion.

"Unfortunate. Unfortunate, indeed." Buzz said. "Thank you for your service, Officer Simone. I'm glad it's over, and the bastard can't hurt any more children. So what else do you have to catch me up on?"

Gil stared in disbelief. Who was this man? What had they done with his angry, explosive boss? Where was he? He gulped. It wouldn't last. Time for bad news, part two.

"Boss, Trudy Hunt is in lock up."

"What?"

"Um, she came to the station here, driving drunk, I might add--and assaulted me, actually."

"And why, Detective Bettencourt, would she assault you? You are good, very good friends, are you not?"

"Well, as we suspected..." He paused to make a sweeping motion with his hand, to include Buzz and himself. "We suspected she had a fondness for not only you, but me, as well. And she saw myself and Officer Simone in an affectionate position, and she didn't take it well."

A snicker escaped from Buzz, soon turning into uproarious laughter, good hard belly-laughing, so intense he lost his balance, teetering on the cane which wobbled with every blast of laughter. Another officer rushed to help him to a chair.

Gil stared at him with no idea what to think. Could this be Buzz Miller?