The Bedroom Killer (17 page)

CHAPTER 38

"What the
hell
were you thinking?" Megan yelled as she stormed past John, leaving him standing at his front door. He'd woken from a deep sleep only to find himself still lying on his living room floor surrounded by his notes and newspaper articles on the Bedroom Killer. When he heard the sound of the loud banging on the front door, he slowly stood and stepped over to open the door, and was practically knocked over backward by a fuming Detective Ash. Once she got inside, she swung around to face him, and that's when she asked, "Again, what the
hell
were you thinking?"

"Can I get you some coffee
?" was all he said, still sleepy and not quite sure what she was talking about.

"God
, yes," she said. She followed him into the kitchen and sat at his kitchen table, but just as quickly stood back up.

"Are you out of your mind
? What am I saying? Of course you are! You tried to kill yourself. And I'm out of my mind for telling you
anything
about this case!"

"Don't forget the sex,"
John said, as he scooped freshly ground French roast coffee into the filter on his ten-year-old Mr. Coffee. Megan ran her hands through her long hair, moaning and pacing in the small kitchen. After John turned on the coffee machine, he turned back to face her.

"What are you talking about
?" he said.

"You've been talking to the mothers
," Megan said.

"I have."

"Why?"

"Why not?
"

"But you brought them all together
. You never bring witnesses together. They tend to mix up their stories, each believing that the other witnesses are more correct than they are."

"I hadn't thought of that
," John said.

John pulled a large cereal bowl from the cabinet and then grabbed a box of Trix out of the pantry.

"Want some?" he asked.

"
Trix
?
You
eat Trix? A doctor of medicine eats that crappy cereal?"

"My favorite cereal."

"Unbelievable!" Megan said.

"Here," John said, setting down the box of cereal, "I'll do my Trix dance for
you." John proceeded to dance around the kitchen, surrounding Megan with the dumbest moves a white man could make. As much as she wanted to remain angry, she had no choice but to laugh. She was stressed out, and while she was chewing John a new asshole, he was just as calm as could be.

"How do you do it?"
she said.

"Do what?"

"How do you stay so calm?"

John poured the milk and took his first mouthful, spilling a couple balls of Trix onto the kitchen table
. He quickly gathered them up and tossed them back into his bowl. He swallowed and said, "I'm not a homicide detective. I'm an out of work suicidal doctor, remember? I don't have a boss. I have no schedule and no bedtime. I stay up as late as I want, Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah."

He smiled at this last childish remark
, but he felt very good about what he was doing and he wasn't going to let Megan bring him down. He continued shoveling his cereal into his mouth and chewing in silence when the coffee maker began gurgling, indicating it was done. Megan walked to the counter and poured two cups, then grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and poured her own Trix. She sat in silence eating the crappy cereal and drinking coffee with John.

Finally
, she pushed her half-finished bowl aside and said, "I'm going to put in for a transfer."

John
slowly pulled his spoon from his mouth, chewed, swallowed, then asked, "Are you moving away?"

"No
…I don't know. I just need to get out of that department. I don't really like it there anymore. Haven't for years."

John noticed that the crow
's-feet at the corners of her eyes looked a little deeper, the bags under her eyes a little darker, or maybe it was just the shadows in the kitchen.

"So why have you stayed for so long?
" John said.

Megan
looked away and shrugged.

"That's a big deal isn't it
…getting a transfer?"

"Kinda, I guess
. It probably won't be soon. I have to get approvals. Nothing happens fast."

"Will we stay in touch
?" asked John.

There was care in the question, in the way he'd asked
. He didn't ask in an offhand way as if he was just being polite. He honestly wanted to know if he would still see her after her transfer. Speak to her. Make love to her. As he stared at her, he saw her eyes well up. John rose and came around the table and, as he stood next to her, he had thrown his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. She put her arms around his waist and held on tight, letting the tears flow.  

***

She'd started the morning ready to chew him out for talking with the moms, and now she was locked tightly in his arms. She was falling hard for him. She thought of the question he'd just asked her about staying in touch, lifted her head to look up at his face, and said, "I want to take you to meet someone." He let go of his grip on her, then wiped her cheeks with his thumb.

"Oh yeah
? Who?"

"You'll see."

He just smiled his stroke-smile, nodded, and grabbed her spoon and began eating from her cereal bowl. Megan rested her chin on his arm, watching him eat, and thought to herself that if she could, she'd never leave his side.

CHAPTER 39

Megan and John stood in the lobby of the Perkins Convalescent Home
. They were there to meet someone…
family
was all Megan would say. Orange plastic chairs lined each wall, separated by small end tables with
Time
,
Vogue
, and
AARP
magazines splayed across them. Cheap landscape paintings, featuring herds of wild stallions running across flat, amber plains, hung on the walls. The building was more than fifty years old and looked it. They each took a seat.

"I found this place four years ago. Cheapest one I could find. Eighteen hundred a month," Megan said. "Anna was falling down more often. Had to find someplace for her."

John stared across the lobby at a young family gathered in the far corner, next to the sliding glass door
that led to the courtyard. They were visiting Grandpa, who had his hands full with his two young grandsons, who were both jumping up and down in his lap, showing off their toy cars. Grandpa seemed to be enjoying himself; a big life-is-wonderful smile on his otherwise deeply lined, craggy face. But his daughter, seemingly worried for her ailing father, eventually grabbed the two boys and banned them to the carpet. Not more than ten seconds later, the older of the two boys shot his toy car, a miniature Corvette, across the lobby floor where it slammed into John's shoe. John looked down at the car. The air in his lungs froze. His breathing slowed, and all sound evaporated.

Megan expected to see John reach down for the car, but when she realized what was happening, she moved to pick up the car and quickly handed it to the young boy, who had already crossed the room to retrieve it, but was too shy to close the last few feet. He stood there a moment studying John, who was staring back at him, his face expressionless. The boy stood about three feet tall, blond hair and blue eyes. He finally turned and scampered back when his younger brother called to him.

Megan kept her eyes on John, half expecting to see him crumble to the floor
. But he didn't. He was looking past her with a thousand-mile stare. She turned her gaze back to the boys, who were taking turns slamming their cars into each other, making the crashing sounds that are innately built into the vocal chords of all young boys. Over and over they slammed their cars together, and with each crash she felt John's body tense.

"Hey,"
Megan said, gently placing her hand on his shoulder.

"Huh,"
John said.

"You
okay?"

John blinked
as if he were waking from a deep sleep and unsure of his surroundings.

"Yeah
. Fine," he said.

"Where were you?"

John took a deep breath and shook his head, giving her a slight smile. He turned back, probably to look at the boys again, but they were walking away, trailing Mom and Dad, who were pushing Grandpa in his wheelchair down the hallway, back to his room.

***

"Who's your boyfriend, and what happened to his face?" Anna Ash said, staring at John in her bedroom doorway. She was sitting in an upholstered rocking chair, her cup of tea sitting on a white doily on the nightstand next to her. She was seventy-nine and looked every bit of it.

"Anna, this is Dr. John Randall
," Megan said.

Anna sized up John and said, "I don't need any more doctors.
"

John stepped around Megan and approached with his hand extended
. "Nice to meet you, Anna."

Anna took John's hand
and said again, "What happened to your face?"

It was Megan's turn to step forward
. "Let's not worry about that. How have you been?"

"I can never get these people to bring me any more blankets.
"

This was a common complaint that Megan heard
with each visit. At first she complained to the staff. They quickly reassured her that Anna had been given all the blankets she could ever need, but then she would call them back and complain that she had too many blankets, and ask to have the extra blankets removed.

"I'll talk to them on my way out," she said, patting Anna's hand.

"So when are you and Russell getting married?" John looked from Anna to Megan as if wondering who Russell was.

"Oh
, we haven't set a date yet," Megan said, motioning for John to grab the foldout chair leaning in the corner. He opened the chair and sat across from them both.

"Well
, don't wait too long. He's a catch and if you don't take him, some other girl will. I would rather it be you."

"Don't worry
, Anna," Megan said. "I have no plans of letting Russell go."

"Good
. He tells me he loves you…says you're the best thing that ever happened to him."

Megan smiled upon hearing the familiar words. Like a script reading. The same play. The same players.

"I know," she said. "He tells me the same thing." She turned and winked at John. John smiled back, his bandage crinkling as his cheek stretched. She knew he'd had patients with Alzheimer's over the course of his career, so he knew the drill.

"And who's this
?" said Anna, staring at John again.

John stood
. "Hi. I'm John. I'm a friend of Megan and Russell's." He extended his hand and Anna took it. Caught by his perfect response, Megan found one more reason to love the man.

"Nice to meet you
, John," said Anna. John sat back down.

"How are you feeling today, Anna
?" Megan asked. This was more than just a simple inquiry. Anna was diabetic and needed insulin shots throughout the day. The doctors told her during her last visit that the circulation in Anna's legs was getting worse and warned that they may have to amputate at some point. Megan didn't know how she would handle explaining the loss of two legs, and worried every time she visited.

"I feel fine
…but I am a little tired."

And as if on cue, her attendant, a friendly old Irish woman named Katherine, stepped into the open doorway and said in her thick Irish accent, "Well
, Anna, I'm sorry to end the party but it's time for your bath."

"Well
, we won't keep you," Megan said as she stood. John stood and folded the chair and set it back in the corner. Megan bent down to kiss Anna on the cheek.

"I'll see you next week
. Okay?"

"O
kay. When is Russell coming to see me?"

"I'll make sure to bring him with me next time.
"

"He's a police officer, you know."

"I know," Megan said. "Bye, Anna. I love you."

Megan turned to join John
, who waved and said, "Good-bye, Anna, it was a pleasure to meet you."

They stepped into the hallway as Katherine stepped in
side the room. Once they reached the lobby, Megan excused herself telling John she wanted to speak with the house manager. John picked up a
Readers’s Digest
as she walked away. A few moments later Megan returned.

"Everything al
l right?" asked John as he stood and tossed the
Digest
back onto the table.

"Yes, I wanted to make sure Anna was still getting her medic
ations," she lied. She grabbed John's hand, walked with him to the front door, and stepped out into the cold blustery air.

"So
…" John said.

"So?" Megan replied.

"Is Russell a figment of Anna's imagination, because I hear he loves you?"

Megan gripped his hand tight
ly and said, "Don't you know, everyone loves me." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed John. He pulled her close and they kept the kiss going, finally parting and closing their arms around each other as they reached the front stairs. Within seconds of stepping down the stairs, Megan felt the first sprinkle of rain on her forehead. A wave of tension swept through her, a sudden haunting feeling that told her she might soon be staring into another young girl's dead eyes.