Chapter 10
The Knight of Wands swoops in and takes action.
CAL
Iregained consciousness on a gurney being attended by an EMS crew. The EMT stops me when I try to sit up. “Whoa,” the woman says. “Take it easy.” She helps me sit up and takes my pulse. “When is the last time you had something to eat? “
Marci answers for me. “She had coffee at about 7:30 this morning. And a few bites of a chocolate croissant.”
“Lay down.” The EMT turns to the man beside her. “Bob, get me a butterfly and saline, please.” To me she says, “Your pulse is a little weak and I’m going to test your blood sugar. Just a little prick.” She gently lifts my hand and I feel a sting on my middle finger. She swipes the blood into a little plastic white box and sets it aside. “I’m going to start an IV to get your blood chemistry stabilized.”
I protest. “I’m already feeling better. Really, I’m fine.”
Detective Bizzell interjects. “Ms. Cassidy, you don’t have a choice in the matter. You are now in the custody of the Atlanta Police Department.”
A loud voice booms from right outside my bedroom doorway. “Cool your jets, Biz.” I turn my head to see who issued this command. I don’t recognize the voice.
A tall woman strides forward and sticks out her hand. “Dr. Cassidy, I’m Laura Fuller. Sorry I’m running a little late.” She turns to Detective Bizzell. “Looks like I got here just in the nick of time. Biz, there is no need to take my client to the precinct. Let’s get her stabilized and let her rest this morning. I’m booked for the afternoon and tomorrow. How about we come down to the precinct on Tuesday morning? That suit everybody?” I notice she doesn’t say it like a question, though. She says it like, “and that’s the way it’s going to be.” I’ve known her for two minutes and I like her already. She’s my kind of control freak.
She stands beside the gurney and pats my hand. “How are you feeling?” I nod in the affirmative. I’m still feeling a little weak. I feel a bruise forming on my tailbone from where I hit the floor when I fainted.
Bob brings over a bag of saline and a needle in a plastic package. Laura holds up her hand. “Hold up, please.”
Her eyes search my face. “Do you feel like you need an IV or can we go downstairs and get you some food and tea?”
I’m in awe of my new guardian angel dripping in Chanel and David Yurman. “Food. Tea.”
I tentatively swing my legs off the stretcher. Laura puts one arm around me and one arm under me and helps me stand. “You good, hon?”
I navigate the stairs with the help of Laura and Marci. I noticed Detective Bizzell hanging back in my bedroom. Good luck with that. There is nothing in my bedroom that would or could incriminate me. Out of the corner of my eye I see Detective Bizzell pocketing a small white plastic box. I’m too frazzled to care.
Downstairs, Jim and Gwen are sitting at the kitchen table. Marci must have called them. Jim is cracking his knuckles and looking like he wants to strangle someone. I hope at some point it will be Detective Bizzell.
I lower myself gingerly into a chair with Jim’s help.
Laura busies herself with filling the kettle with water and rummaging in the cabinet for tea and cups. “Earl Grey!” she exclaims. “And Vanilla Syrup!” She opens the refrigerator. “Cream! Perfect!” I love the way this woman speaks in exclamation points!
Laura turns to us seated around the table, “Have you ever had a London Fog?” I shake my head, not yet being able to formulate a sentence. “I don’t know what it is, but it sounds quite lovely,” says Marci.
A few minutes later we are sipping the fragrant tea laced with cream and vanilla. Someone places a croissant in front of me and I take a small bite. After a few sips of tea, I find my voice. “Ms. Fuller, this tea is amazing!” The cup warms my hands and my soul.
“Laura. Just Laura. Feeling better?”
“Much, much better.” I look from Jim to Gwen to Marci to Laura. “I feel like I’ve been on a different planet the last 24 hours. This is surreal. Laura, why do the police think I had anything to do with Paul’s death?”
Laura stands up, washes her cup, and sets it on a paper towel to dry. “That’s what I intend to find out today.” She nods to my friends. “Can you three stay and take care of the good doctor for the rest of the day while I go get some answers?” She walks out of the room before anyone can answer. It wasn’t really a question.
The four of us decided to go to Marci’s restaurant for brunch. “Let me run upstairs and change. I’ll just be a minute.” Marci surveys my tee shirt and leggings. “Nah. You’re fine. I’m starving. Let’s go.”
No one speaks on the short walk to the restaurant. I think we are all in shock at the events that just transpired. We slip in the back door and sit at a table in the rear next to the kitchen.
As I settle into the leather banquette, I look up and see Detective Chan and Detective Bizzell on the other side of the restaurant. Detective Bizzell’s back is to me. My mouth drops open in surprise just as Detective Chan looks up and sees me. I may have imagined it, but for a brief moment I think I see a smile cross his face; the kind of smile when you see someone you like across the room. Then his face turns beet red, and he looks down, suddenly interested in his food. Detective Bizzell whirls around to see what caused this reaction. She glares at me for a second and then turns around, leans across the table, and says something to her partner, wildly gesticulating. Detective Chan maintains focus on his food.
I will myself not to look in their direction again throughout the entire meal. Angry, confused, and scared, I’m not in the mood to deal with anything but the omelet with roasted vegetables and goat cheese on my plate.
I excuse myself to go to the ladies’ room and as I’m coming out and rounding the corner, I crash into Danny Chan. My mouth flies open, and the breath mint I had just popped in flies out and lands on the front of his shirt. “Sorry about that, sir.” I picked the breath mint off his shirt and put it back in my mouth. Sir? I’m an idiot.
Chan stands in stunned silence for a moment, looking down at his shirt and back to me crunching on the breath mint. His face flushes again. He gives me a half smile, “No problem, ma’am,” and proceeds to the Men’s Room.
On my way back to the table I’m stopped by Detective Bizzell. Who, along with the entire restaurant, observed the entire breath mint debacle. She leans so close to me I can feel the heat of her anger. “First you murder your ex-husband and then you try to compromise the investigating detective.” She gripped my arm harder. “Let’s get one thing straight. You picked the wrong cop to mess with.”
“Detective, kindly remove your hand from my arm or I will press charges against you.” I’m surprised my voice is steady and unyielding. Upon seeing that I’m not intimidated, Detective Bizzell releases her grip.
I step around her. “And Detective, I WILL have your badge if you ever step out of line with me again.”