Chapter 128

word count  1119

Trudy felt her breaths getting heavier, the pain in her arm becoming nastier. Stopping her run, she paused, bent over with her hands on her knees, puffing, before examining the wound, now red, angry, and oozing blood. A red streak dashed on her arm where the bullet zoomed, skimming close enough to tear a path into flesh as it whizzed by.

"Well, it could have been worse," she murmured. Standing, she surveyed her surroundings, not that there was much to see. The horizon lay flat at the end of the long road ahead. New Albany was nothing more than a tiny speck to see. She couldn't begin to guess how many miles away it might be.

Stopping had made her feel dizzy, and she slumped to her knees. Her world spun, making her close her eyes to ease the vertigo. How was she ever going to make it to town? That, added to the fact the animal who shot her in the first place might be on her tail at this very moment looking high and low for her. It all made her heart pound so hard she thought she might faint next.

At that moment, a car engine hummed distant, then closer. Panic pounded on her like an anvil. The guy! It was probably the guy. She was still curled up, trying not to faint, but her instincts were screaming, "RUN, RUN!"

But Trudy was riveted in place, her head spinning wilder than ever, her arm producing excruciating pain, fueled by her blood rushing and feelings of panic.

She heard the car behind her. It slowed, its faulty muffler accounting for the auto's raucous approach. Trudy's mind raced. She didn't recall that guy's car having a noisy, bad muffler. Confusion loomed. She needed to get up, needed to run, but couldn't move. Her spinning head, excruciating pain...she was too weak. A part of her surrendered to her inevitable fate. She braced herself for the worst. But a friendly voice spoke.

"Are you okay, dear?"

The warm cackle broke the pain's spell on her. She looked up to see a middle-aged woman standing over her. Another was off to the side.

The closer lady had short, straight blue gray hair. Her strongest features were glowing sapphire eyes and a brilliant smile. Her face was pale and wrinkled, her clothes plain, dark colors. The only glitter about her was a gold cross dangling from a chain around her neck. From a distance, Trudy could see the other was a stout woman with tiny eyes and a slit of a mouth that nonetheless turned up in a smile. Blazing red hair, cropped short, crowned her pale complexion. Her cheeks glowed rosy in the excitement of the moment.

"I'm hurt," was all Trudy was able to say.

"Let me see that wound!" the gray-haired lady said, bending own to examine her arm.

"Let's get her back to our place," she said, motioning to the red-haired woman. "We can take care of her there."

They loaded Trudy in their car and took off down the long straight road toward the city.  She was in such pain, Trudy barely knew what they were doing. Staring out the window, she watched the roadway go by, mesmerized. Finally, it all put Trudy to sleep until she felt a bump as the car turned. They'd left the main road to New Albany, taking instead an alternative gravelly path, bumpy and serpentine, finally leading to a lonely Gothic structure far from the main drag. Trudy sat on the edge of her seat, excitable, as they made their way to the unusual house. A mass of towers and spires, elongated windows, dark aged stone walls--it all hit Trudy in the face like she was locked in a nightmare or a ghost story. In her delirious state, it was all the more bizarre. The very dark structure had one redeeming feature, an extensive garden to the side, with red ripe tomatoes, various green and yellow vegetables, and  rainbows of morning glorys and roses to soothe the eye. What Trudy failed to see was the plaque out front labeling the building as the "Convent of the Sisters of Mercy".

***

Buzz pulled out a chair for Chrissy, Gil's date while Hank got Stephanie seated. When they were settled, a smiling Mrs. Dunn appeared with a bottle of vintage wine. Buzz was out of the hospital and had invited his men and their dates over to his place for dinner and to catch up. It was the first he'd felt normal in a long time.

"Nineteen thirty-six--a very good year, I trust, Detective Miller."

"Thank you, Mrs. Dunn!" Buzz accepted the bottle and proceeded to pop the cork, all the while thinking he didn't know diddly about wine, but he played along for Mrs. Dunn's benefit. He filled a glass for Stephanie, then Chrissy, making small talk as he poured.

"So, Gil, what have you found out about Trudy?"

Gil felt on the spot. He'd tried to find Trudy, but his heart wasn't in it. He knew she was let go from  jail, but frankly, she disappeared into dark space. To be honest he hadn't put much effort into it which  went against every sense of duty he had. He just couldn't. After seeing Trudy and Simone kissing, it all gave him a bad taste in his mouth, a kick in the stomach to his ego. He wanted nothing to do with her.

"Well, boss! So far I haven't gotten any leads. She's off the radar."

"Did you check with her old job? Her ex-husband?" Buzz leaned forward, projecting his nose in Gil's direction for emphasis, "Did she come running to you for help?"

Gil went pale. She didn't, but Buzz accusing him like this was frightening. You didn't want to be on Buzz's bad side.

"Absolutely not!" It was all he could muster to say.

Buzz pulled back. I guess I'm gonna have to get out on my bum leg and look for her myself, he thought.

"Who is Trudy?" a distressed Chrissy asked. "Is she someone you used to date, Gilbert?"

"No, honey! My name's not Gilbert. It's Gilberto!" He shook his head in confusion. "I mean, GIL--my name's Gil!  Would you please try to remember that?"

Buzz watched on, thinking, Trudy may not have been the sharpest bulb in the pack, but at least she could remember a guy's name.

Hank squeezed Stephanie's hand under the table. It was their little signal for indicating when other people made them want to laugh. Stephanie squeezed his hand in return.

If they knew where Trudy was tonight, they'd all be laughing out loud.