Chapter 162

word count 1009

When Boa arrived at Gina O'Hoolihan's apartment, she nodded to her accomplice, Manny, to pick the lock.

"Make it nice and tidy," she murmured, as she busied herself to make sure her sleek, black gloves were pulled on tight. The door opened with a pop, compliments of Manny's skill. They found a darkened room. It was quiet but with a kind of roaring potential, the sort of tense air that permeates a space before you discover something awful. Tense, electrifying.

Manny switched on the light and as expected, the limp body of Gina O'Hoolihan was revealed, laid out flat on the living room floor with a pool of blood trailing from her mouth, saturating the carpet into a mush of scarlet.

"Looks like Frank the Skank did a good job," she murmured. "Now let's make this look good." She kicked Gina's body to one side to reveal a bullet hole penetrating her chest. "You got that gun?" she asked.

"Yep," said Manny. "Rudy pulled it off the cop and ran it over to me. He made sure his fingerprints were all over it, too. Revolver, police issue."

"Let's plant it like he would have tried to ditch it. But don't make it impossible to find."

Manny scurried to the bedroom, next returning with a wide grin on his face. "Done," he said.

"Our work is finished here. I'll call Rudy and tell him to dump the cop along the interstate."

"Lady, you are evil," Manny said. "What did this cop ever do to you anyway?"

"You don't want to know," she said.

* * *

Hank and Algie pulled Trudy off Buzz's prone body with little resistance coming from her. Once she'd realized the cop was unconscious, she'd shut down in shock.

Mrs. Dunn rushed to Buzz like a guardian angel.

"Detective Miller! Are you all right?" She grabbed his hand and patted it. As if it helped, Buzz slowly opened his eyes.

"Mrs. Dunn!" It came out in a hoarse whisper. He struggled to sit up. When he was upright, he called for Trudy. Mrs. Dunn started to object, but he stopped her. "It's okay, dear. I need to talk to her."

Trudy approached, and the housekeeper got out of the way, leaving the girl room to kneel by Buzz. He shot her a glance, his eyes heavy with portent.

"Trudy, hon! I love you, but look at what you've just done to me. You've got to see a doctor. I mean it!"

"Okay, Buzz! I will. I promise."

"No empty promises. I mean it. Today. I'll make the appointment for you. I got a guy."

A uniformed approached. "Detective Miller, I hate to bother you, but we've just got a call for a homicide over in Oakwood. A woman."

"Help me up! And find Hank! Let's roll." It felt good to be working the streets again. A little fall and knock to the noggin wasn't going to stop Buzz Miller. As he turned to go, he grabbed Trudy by the arm. "I'll make that call and get back with you about the appointment."

His eyes were steel. Trudy knew not to mess with him about it.

* * *
Gil woke up along the side of the highway in what felt like a drunken stupor, surreal at best. Cars buzzed by, their drivers gawking at his shattered body but ignoring him. He wondered where the milk of human kindness had gone. "So much for life in the big city," he murmured. His head banged like an anvil pounding steel, and his stomach was twisted and nauseous. He tried to get his bearings. A road sign announced he was thirty miles from New Albany.

"What the fuck?" Struggling to his knees, he pushed himself up onto two very unsteady legs. Brushing the dirt off his trousers, he realized his clothes felt light, and his heart went cold. He groped his gun harness. Empty. Frantic, he padded his pockets. All empty. It was him and some filthy clothes. No gun, no money, no credit cards. Nothing.

Dropping down on his haunches, he tried to remember where he was before this. Something about a van...he couldn't remember--maybe later it would come. The sound of car wheels on gravel made him look up to see an old Chevy pulling off the road. It came to a stop right in front of him.

"You okay, buddy?" A businessman in a perfectly pressed suit and button down white shirt, red tie included, had emerged from the vehicle and stood by studying him.

"I dunno," he said. "What day is this?"

“Thursday. What happened to you? Can I help?”

Thursday. Clearly he'd lost some time. The man still stood there, looking at him with a worried expression.

“Would you happen to be heading toward New Albany?” the cop asked.

“Yes, I am. But what do you say I take you by the hospital first to be checked out? You don't look too good, buddy!”

“Nope. I'm a cop. I've got to get back to the precinct.” He had a very bad feeling about things, and the sooner he made it back to home base, the better.

* * *

The cops arrived at Gina O'Hoohlihan's apartment without delay. When Buzz passed through the door, his stomach lurched. Must have been that blow to the head, he mused. He didn't usually react to a crime scene.

“What do we got?” he asked the medical examiner who was finishing, neatly getting his kit together to leave.

“Bullet wound to the chest, just missed the heart, internal bleeding.” He stopped to study Gina's face. “Such a shame, young and pretty.”

“I hear ya!” Buzz replied in a distracted fashion. No time to wax poetic right now, he thought. “Anyone find a weapon?” He yelled it out for his crew to hear.

A uniform appeared in the bedroom doorway clasping an evidence bag with a revolver in it. “Right here, Detective Miller. You're not going to believe this, but it's police issue.”