Chapter 164

word count 1034

Trudy shifted in the softly cushioned chair and wondered how she had gotten herself into this. The love of a good man, her conscience stated. You're here because Buzz asked you to be. Before he took off on the homicide investigation, he made this appointment, got her squeezed in right away. And so, now here she was, looking at this strange doctor and wondering what to do next.

Dr. Beauregard hailed from the deep south, New Orleans, to be exact. His neat, parted brown hair was slicked down tight against his head as if it was not meant to distract from his large, blue eyes. They were boyish eyes, as was his face and his entire demeanor. Trudy didn't know how she was supposed to take this youngish-looking doctor seriously. But Buzz had insisted she come. The fellow did a lot of work for the precinct so he must be good.

“Well, Ms. Hunt, may I call you Trudy? I see you have anger issues. Is that right?”

“That's what people tell me. They say, like 'Hey, Trudy, you have anger issues.'” She launched into a perfect imitation of Buzz's gruff voice.

“Do you think you have anger issues?”

“I dunno. I guess.” What a dweeb this guy was! Trudy wished she could run from the room.

“It says here you assaulted the chief of homicide, knocking him unconscious just this morning. Is that right?”

“Well, yeah. I didn't mean to knock him unconscious though.”

“Why do you think you get so angry at times? What are you feeling when you snap?” Dr. B. wrote notes as he spoke. This is going to take a long time, he mused.

She stared back at him without answering.

Oookay, he pondered. “Well, Ms. Hunt. Why don't I teach you some relaxation techniques next?”

Fooey! Trudy thought. But she'd have to play along anyway. Buzz wanted it that way.

*  *  *

At Gina O'Hoohlihan's apartment, they were finishing up their investigation. It was cold-blooded murder. The woman was a scrub nurse at the hospital. Buzz was interested to note she frequently assisted Dr. Kevin Collins in surgery, and the two were known to be a couple, although they tried to hide it. She'd been obviously packing a suitcase prior to the crime. Buzz hypothesized they were going to take off with the gem, and then the murder happened. So far, they hadn't been able to find Dr. Collins, and Buzz worried he may already be out of the country.

They hadn't found any DNA around the body. Buzz suspected Collins killed her, except for one thing, the murder weapon was a police revolver. He was waiting now for a check on the serial number when a voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Detective Miller, we have info on the gun.” The young officer's face looked pained as though he hated to say more.

“Spit it out, officer!” Buzz growled.

“The gun was issued to Gil Bettencourt, sir!”

* * *
John and Lisa sat with the boys in the living room, the TV turned off, computers shut down, only the ticking of the living room clock breaking the silence in the room. John started first.

“Boys, it doesn't look as though the police are going to find the ring any time soon. And even if they do, you do understand it was never yours to begin with. It was stolen from British Royalty and they want it back.”

“But it's ours, finders keepers!” Erik protested. He needed that ring to cement his place in the brotherhood.

“Not when someone else stole it before you found it,” Lisa said. “Honey, it's only a 'thing'--it doesn't give or take away what you have with your brothers. Erik, you found it and were the hero of the day, and you'll always be that hero and a brother, regardless of whether you guys have the ring to bond over.”

The boys looked unconvinced.

John gave it a shot. “Look, boys. We have our eyes to see and our hearts to love. Why would we need a diamond ring to tell us what we already know. If it really troubles you, why don't we get some other token to symbolize the brotherhood?”

“Like what?” Adam asked.

“Why don't we get you guys some matching medals to wear. We could even get your names and something special engraved on them. What do you say?”

The boys exchanged glances and broke into smiles.

“Crisis averted,” Lisa leaned over and murmured in John's ear. They were both overjoyed.

* * *
Boa stood across from Mr. Big and tried to still her pounding heart. She had a bad feeling about this meeting. He knew. She could tell with her every instinct he knew, and she was living on borrowed time.

“Well, Boa! I see you've been busy,” he said. The words came out in barely a whisper, but a harsh one, a fact Boa found disconcerting in the way it lent a raspy gravity to the remark. She clenched her teeth and stood taller.

“I know what you found.”

Boa's pulse shot off the charts, pounding through her veins. She wondered how he knew. Manny. Manny probably had something to do with it. The son of a bitch.

Mr. Big's eyes slanted half shut in concentration. Looking at Boa, her incredible beauty, a world of talent within her grasp, it seemed a shame to eliminate her. But she knew about the diamond, possessed it, had it hidden in her personal things. He had just now sat in her living room, watching the surveillance camera on his smart phone, seeing every move as the lady tried to hide it, tried to keep it from him.

She wasn't trustworthy. She tried to steal the jewel for herself. No matter how pretty a keepsake is, if you does you harm, you have to eliminate it.

He slipped a small caliber pistol from his sleeve and shot three times in succession. The repeated ricochets slammed him again and again, his head pounding the back of his chair. When he recovered, he saw her body on the floor. She never knew what happened.

“Pity,” he said.