Black Beans & Vice (10 page)

Bennett, who had joined James as he moved to watch over the
pregnant woman, shook his head. "Hope she's all right."

"Where is Lucy?" James looked around for his friend's jeep.

"I don't know, but she needs to fire a gun in the air when she
gets here." Bennett looked miserable. "Gillian used to be one of
these people. Man, I know where they're comin' from, but this is
not the way to change things. And how am I going to get Gillian
outta here before folks start throwin' punches?"

James didn't have an answer. Gillian was as passionate about
animal rights as the rest of the demonstrators, but she preferred to
champion the cause in a more behind-the-scenes manner.

At that moment, Ned Woodman emerged from the crowd
heading into the Village. He looked as frantic as Roslyn had earlier,
but James blocked the councilman's exit. Pointing at the increasingly hostile throng, he said, "Ned! Can you do something to disperse these people? Don't the protestors need some sort of a permit? This is going to get out of hand if someone in a position of
authority doesn't act quickly!"

Ned shot a panicked look over his shoulder. He seemed fearful.
Not of the protestors, but of something or someone in the direction of the main tent. Suddenly, James' attention was drawn by the
wail of a sheriff's cruiser siren. Deputy Keith Donovan pulled his
sedan within inches of the demonstrators and jumped out of the
car, his face set in a fierce scowl. When James turned to speak to
Ned again, he only saw a glimpse of purple shirt as the councilman slipped back toward the heart of the Village.

Lucy parked her jeep right behind the surly deputy and though
Donovan strutted up to the protestors and began to order them
around in his typical mulish manner, Lucy and Lindy were able
to gently pull the female leader aside and speak to her calmly and
quietly. Donovan, who had become obsessed with weight lifting over the past few months, now had such a thick neck that he
looked more like a redheaded bulldog than ever. He had long been
Lucy's nemesis and the supper club members did their best to
avoid him whenever possible.

While Donovan mildly scolded the burger-eating teenagers, James
lured Gillian away from the protestors. He captured her attention by
telling her about Eliot's recent conversion to vegetarianism.

"What an honorable decision to make at such a tender age!"
Gillian was delighted. "Where is he? I'd love to congratulate him
and offer my full support."

Bennett shot James a grateful look as the three friends headed
back into the Village and rejoined Jane and Eliot at the picnic
table. Bennett and Gillian had barely said their hellos when Eliot
tugged on James' hand. "Daddy! I need to go to the bathroom."

James noted that his son was doing little hops from side-toside. "It was a pretty big smoothie, huh? Come on, we'll ask Harmony if we can use the restroom in her office. You and I aren't
going near those port-a-potties by the entrance."

The Better State of Mind booth was unmanned, but Roslyn
was more than happy to lend James the keys to her office. James
and Eliot trotted to her blue door, but didn't need the keys as the
door was not only unlocked, but left slightly ajar.

"Hello?" James called out, but the office was silent. "I guess Roslyn really is absentminded."

He gave a quick glance around a reception area similar to Harmony's. Judging by the number of closed doors off the hallway,
Roslyn's office unit contained a few more rooms than the hyp-
notherapist's. Luckily, the restroom was clearly marked. James
quickly opened the door and turned the lights on for his son.

"I can go by myself," Eliot stated. Despite his son's declaration,
James listened at the door as Eliot conducted his business and then
washed his hands. When he didn't come back out after turning off
the water, James opened the door by an inch.

"All done in there?"

Eliot reappeared, wearing a befuddled frown. "Daddy? Why is
that man sleeping on the ground?"

"What?" James frowned and entered the bathroom.

There on the floor of the handicapped stall was a man's body.
James recognized the figure in the purple polo shirt and tan pants
right away.

"Ned?" he called out and stooped over the prone form. Even in
the shadowy restroom stall, James could see that Ned Woodman's
eyes were open. They were glassy and unblinking, their still gaze
fixed on the peach and green tiled wall.

James checked for a pulse but didn't find one. Pulling his phone
out of his pocket, he ushered Eliot into the reception room and began dialing Lucy's number. He wondered if she'd hear the phone
over the noise of the crowd. When she didn't answer, he punchedin
Bennett's number next.

"Bennett!" James whispered urgently into the speaker. "Tell Jane
to come get Eliot from the Health House. It's two doors down from
Harmony's. And call 9-1-1. Councilman Ned Woodman is in a
bathroom stall back here." He lowered his voice even further. "And
he's dead."

"Damn," Bennett whistled. "When it's my turn to pass on, that
is not how I wanna go!"

IT TOOK LESS THAN five minutes for
Jane to enter the office and collect Eliot.
James gave her the Bronco keys and insisted she drive back to his house while
he waited for the authorities.

Those authorities turned out to be
Donovan, since he was already at the festival, and Lucy. The two deputies were
in the midst of a full-scale argument when they walked across the
threshold.

"You're not even in uniform, Hanover," Deputy Donovan
sneered and hitched up his utility belt to emphasize her lack of
nightstick, handcuffs, or firearm. "Leave this to the men."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "I would if there was one here. All I see
is the same know-it-all jerk I knew in high school. When are you
ever going to grow up, Keith? Didn't you just turn forty a few months ago?" She jerked her thumb at his thinning red hair as she
brushed past him. "It's too bad you don't lose your bad habits the
way you seem to be losing your hair."

Donovan snorted. "Go on, then. Be your aggressive, sarcastic
self. That's why you can't hold onto a man, Hanover. Guys don't
like pushy women."

The last comment struck home, especially because Lucy's fellow deputy knew full well that she still mourned her former relationship with James. To spare Lucy any further embarrassment,
James avoided meeting her wounded eyes as he led the pair of
squabbling deputies to the bathroom.

"He's inside," he said as Lucy opened the door. "I checked for
vital signs but found nothing."

Donovan shook his head in disgust. "I'm glad that's not me in
there. Would it have killed you to try a little CPR before pronouncing the man dead? Or is M.D. one of your dozens of degrees?"

"It didn't take a degree in higher education to see that Ned was
gone," James answered, doing his best not to rise to Donovan's
bait. "He didn't even feel warm. There was no trace of life left in
him."

Before Donovan could continue berating James, his radio crackled with the announcement that Sheriff Huckabee was on his way.
Donovan snapped to attention and, ignoring James, ducked into the
bathroom. He and Lucy reappeared a few minutes later, just as the
paramedics walked into the office. They eased a gurney into the reception room and after exchanging professional greetings with the
deputies, the pair of young men went into the restroom to examine
Ned Woodman's body.

Lucy dug a notebook out of her cluttered purse and then began searching for a pen among the gum wrappers, wadded tissues,
and crumpled receipts. She finally found one, but it had come
uncapped in her bag and had dried out. James smiled at her customary untidiness and handed her a pen from a cup holder on
the coffee table. The pens were mauve and bore the name, phone
number, and address of Roslyn's business.

While Lucy asked James for details regarding his discovery of
the body, the EMTs carried Ned out of the handicapped stall and
carefully lifted him onto the gurney. Donovan held the bathroom
door open for the younger men and then stood behind them,
hands on hips, as they strapped the inert form onto their wheeled
cart.

"So what do you boys make of this?" he asked, his voice conversational.

Without pausing in his work, the man cinching the belt around
Ned's legs replied, "Nothing official, of course, but it looks like
your standard heart attack."

James listened with interest. He recalled how Ned's left hand
had been balled into a tight fist and how his right arm had been
stretched across his chest, as though he had held onto his left side
before falling onto the floor.

"It's a shame," the second paramedic murmured. "Guy can't be
more than sixty."

"Yeah, it sucks to be him," Donovan responded without an iota
of genuine sympathy.

The paramedic's exit was blocked by the arrival of Sheriff
Huckabee. Huckabee, who was stocky and wide-shouldered like
Donovan, but weighed fifty pounds more than his deputy, strode into the room. Twirling the ends of his splendid mustache, which
had turned dark pewter over the years, Huckabee had never looked
more like a walrus than he did now. His meaty hand scratched the
stubble sprouting on his second chin while his small eyes carefully
surveyed the scene. He approached the gurney. "What's the verdict, gentleman?"

"Looks like a heart attack, Sheriff," Donovan answered before
anyone else could. "At least it was quick, sir. I know he was a friend
of yours."

"Thank you, Keith," the sheriff replied and then placed a palm
on the side of the gurney. "Ned was a good man. I'm gonna go
over to his place and tell Donna myself." He turned to the closest
paramedic. "Where you boys taking him? I'll drive his wife over as
soon as she's ready."

As the men reviewed the procedural details concerning the
care of the councilman's body, James found that he couldn't take
his eyes off Ned's face. Less than an hour ago, he'd seen this man
walking around the festival. Now he was dead. It happened without warning, without witnesses, and without the presence of a
single loved one. James hadn't known Ned well, but he'd spoken to
him minutes before the man had taken his last breath.

Feeling frail in the face of such a sudden death, James glanced
around, wanting to look at something else besides the body on the
gurney. Leaning toward Lucy, who was still seated on the sofa, he
whispered, "What happened with the protestors?"

"Relocated," she responded with a ghost of a smile. "I figured
if we tried to shoo them away, they'd call us fascists or something
and get even more riled up. I told them they were harassing the
folks trying to enter the fair and that they were free to continue with their demonstration, but they'd have to move farther down
the street. There's no shade in that spot and half of them had
called it quits before Donovan got the call about Mr. Woodman."

The pair fell silent for a few moments and James reflected
that he and Lucy had been in this position several times before.
There'd been an unexpected death and the two friends had done
their best to remain composed despite their feelings of shock or
sorrow. Lucy had always handled such situations with professional
aplomb, even before she'd become a deputy. James wondered if
her ability to detach herself so adeptly prevented her from ever experiencing a genuine romantic relationship.

Selfishly, James wished she would find a suitable partner. If
she could be as happy as he was, he could let go of the guilt he
occasionally felt for having had to tell her that they could never
be a couple again. James never expected his wish to be granted so
quickly, but when Huckabee plodded over to the sofa and indicated that he'd like to speak to Lucy privately, the sheriff did just
that.

As Huckabee and Lucy moved down the hall to talk, James
waited to be told he was free to leave. The paramedics wheeled
Ned's corpse from the room and Donovan tagged along, undoubtedly hoping to shout at anyone foolish enough to get too close to
the waiting ambulance. In the silence, it dawned on James that he'd
neglected to inform Lucy about Roslyn's office being unlocked. Yet
when she returned, her face was filled with such joy that he forgot
all about the omitted detail.