Worse Than Being Alone (12 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Another day, that’s the thought that ran through
Brad Henry’s mind as he watched the sun slowly rise. Brad Henry
spent increasing amounts of time letting his consciousness drift to
his alternate reality where he existed as a whole man and time
stopped the day before his fall. The world he created remained
sunny, warm, and free of the usual constraints life imposed on
everyone else.

Brad’s psychiatrist, Dr. Jake Weber, visited twice a
day though Brad managed to tune out most of his well-intentioned
suggestions and adamantly refused the antidepressants he ordered.
The man’s innate kindness and compassion only intensified Brad’s
rage. If this was a test of wills, Brad was determined to have the
dubious distinction of being the winner. His transfer to the
rehabilitation unit was imminent; Brad figured he might as well go
although he already had decided not to participate in any
meaningful way.

Roni Edelin had been a pesky little thorn in Brad’s
plan from the first time she walked into his room. He had to admire
her tenacity and innate ability to cut through the bullshit. She
was the only one keeping him from completely sliding into his other
world. His wife, Jennifer, couldn’t understand that she represented
everything he felt he had lost, which made it imperative he totally
ignore her.

Brad was pretending to be asleep while he worked the
high iron. In this dimension, he was able to fly from one beam to
the next and falling produced no adverse consequences. It was
exhilarating with the wind billowing and blowing him back and forth
as he danced through the puffy, white clouds.

A swooshing sound accompanied the booming voice.
“Hey, asshole, wake up.”

Startled, Brad opened his eyes and stared at the
wheelchair bound man glaring at him. No one had dared to utter a
single even remotely unkind word to Brad since his injury. As the
days passed, his behavior more closely resembled that of an
out-of-control toddler than an adult.

Happy to have a new target at which to hurl the full
force of his rage, Brad launched his attack. “Who the hell are
you?” Brad asked, using the nastiest tone he could muster.

“
My name is David Weller, but what
I really am is your worst nightmare. I went through what you’re
going through four years ago. I know all your tricks. You need to
get with the program.”

“
Fuck off,” Brad screamed, which
caused a nurse to rush into the room.

“
It’s OK, Brad’s just channeling
his anger, right Brad?”

“
You can fuck off, too,” he said
as the nurse shook her head at both of them and
retreated.

Moving closer to the bed, David continued. “I know
all about the rage you feel. This is unfair, it sucks, and you’ll
be a better man if God will just give you back your legs. None of
that’s going to happen. It’s time to get your ass into rehab, quit
feeling sorry for yourself, and stop crying like a little
girl.”

“
You son of a bitch,” Brad said.
“You think just because you’re in that wheelchair you have a right
to come in here and talk to me like this.”

“
Somebody’s got to, man. You’re
wasting valuable time. Let them help you. You’re going to lose
everything if you don’t snap out of this. That would be much worse
than what happened to you.”

“
I’ll bet Roni sent you,” Brad
said. “I knew that woman was trouble the first time she walked in
here.”

“
You have no idea.”

“
She’s not gonna quit, is she?”
Brad asked.

“
Not until she gets through to
you. Believe me, I tried to ignore her the best I could. It’s
easier to get with the program. Look, I’ve been where you are. It’s
an ugly process. I was at my lowest point when Roni came along. You
still have arms that work. I’d give anything to have what you have.
My accident profoundly changed my life, but the weird thing is that
I am a better man than I was before. I have a great relationship
with my children now because I work at it and I’ve never been
happier. There’s so much you can still do.”

“
I can’t even feed my family
anymore,” Brad said. “I can’t work construction. I didn’t go to
college. What else am I going to do?”

“
Go to rehab. Work your butt off
and then come and work for me. I rehab hotels all over the world.
I’m always looking for people who know about
construction.”

Chapter Twenty

Anxiously awaiting the great chase, Roni and I
sipped Quick Trip coffee while we waited for Ho Chi Minh to finish
her session at the Work Simulator. The building also housed a
number of physicians whose practices involved multiple specialties
so there was a steady stream of patients arriving and leaving.

We were sitting in a sleek black Cadillac Escalade
that belonged to Harley’s dad, who got stuck driving a five-year
old Ford Focus. When we had discussed the plan, Riley Edelin had
tried to craft a much more exotic role than the one he ended up
with.

It was Harley who convinced his dad he should switch
cars and pretend to be an older patient entering the building. At
first, Riley had taken offense to Harley’s use of the word old
gomer when describing Riley’s role. Ruffled feathers eventually
soothed, Riley waited just down from the main entrance in his ride
for his part of the plan to unfold.

Rain threatened as black clouds hovered and a
constant drumbeat of distant thunder rumbled from the west. Roni
was again reading the information Lionel Phelps had faxed as if
there would be more revelations gleaned if she continued to study
the pages.

“
Have you decided what you’re
going to do?” I asked.

“
Our little Marian got her start
as Marian Cirillo in Lexington, Kentucky. I booked a flight for
tomorrow morning. I’ll see what I can dig up there and play it by
ear after that.”

“
I think that’s a good plan,” I
said. “Lionel has access to some sophisticated search engines. We
might have to expand our research capabilities at some
point.”

“
I think some of the more advanced
stuff is pricey. It might be awhile before we can do
that.”

“
That’s true,” I said. “By the
way, I finally found a home for the last kitten.”

“
Have you figured out a strategy
for your revenge?”

“
I’m working on it,” I said. “Most
of what I’ve come up seems a little harsh. I kind of like the idea
of Harley looking over his shoulder, waiting for something to
happen. It’s a little hard to stay focused. I like having a cat. I
had Harley neutered and declawed. She seems very affectionate for a
cat. I always thought cats were aloof but Harley’s a lap cat. That
doesn’t mean some kind of retribution isn’t in the
offing.”

“
I understand. I’m sure it’s a
matter of principle. Just try to keep the physical and property
damage to a minimum.”

“
Here comes Ho,” I said as the
black Mustang pulled to the curb. Riley gunned the engine and
pulled the Ford in front of the Mustang while Harley parked his
lawn service company truck on the Mustang’s rear bumper.

Riley exited the Ford with a pronounced limp,
grabbed a borrowed walker from the back seat, and proceeded to
amble toward the front door. Harley jumped out of the truck,
brushed the dirt off the back license plate of the Mustang, slid
the GPS under the carriage, and hurried to the rear end of his
truck to begin removing a lawn mower and other paraphernalia.

Roni and I watched the Mustang, wondering how long
it would take for Ho or the driver to get out of the vehicle. A
tall Asian man climbed out of the driver’s seat, looking angry and
leaning into the car to finish a heated conversation with Ho before
taking on Harley.

After he finally slammed his door shut, he stormed
to the back of Harley’s truck and began pointing and shouting at
Harley. Unfazed at first, Harley ignored the furious man, who
continued to wave his arms dramatically.

“
I wonder if he’s doing that for
Ho’s benefit?” Roni asked.

“
Yeah, he’s quite the little drama
queen, isn’t he?”

“
Harley’s starting to look
pissed,” Roni said.

Harley seemed to be taking the tirade in stride
until it became apparent, mostly because of the balled fists at his
sides and the red blush on his face, that Harley might actually
throw a punch.

“
Oh Oh,” Roni said. “Come on,
Harley, don’t blow it now.”

It suddenly seemed to dawn on Harley that his role
wasn’t supposed to involve having a fistfight with Ho’s companion.
He raised his arms in mock surrender, slowly loading his lawn
equipment back in the truck while the Asian man glared at him.
Satisfied he had performed brilliantly, Harley bowed for the
benefit of the Asian man, climbed in his truck, and drove away.

“
Harley is such a shit,” I said.
“We’ll have to have a talk with him about overacting.”

The Asian man got back in the Mustang and pulled out
of the parking lot with tires screaming. We followed at a distance;
I was thinking about how smoothly Riley’s ride handled when I
realized the black Mustang had stopped across the street from a
Chinese restaurant called The King’s Wok. Ho seemed to hesitate but
then jumped out of the Mustang and entered the business.

“
Are we following the Mustang or
staying with Ho?” I asked.

“
Let’s stay with Ho,” Roni said.
“It doesn’t look like the guy in the Mustang is going anywhere
anyway.”

“
Maybe she’s just getting
take-out. We’ll have to check out the restaurant. Do you think I
should go in there?”

“
No, let’s wait,” Roni
said.

“
You’re probably right,” I said.
“There’s no point in blowing you at this point. She’s already seen
me at the doctor’s office. She’s very observant so I’m sure she’d
remember. We might need to save you for later. Here she comes. No
take-out. Have you noticed she always looks like a woman on a
mission?”

“
That and she gives off kind of a
dangerous vibe,” Roni said as we followed the Mustang again. “Her
body language screams don’t mess with me.”

“
Maybe we should take that to
heart.”

“
Why start now?” Roni asked as we
made our way through a residential area known as the Shaw
neighborhood, which was filled with older, historic houses. It had
become the chic thing to do in St. Louis; buy a run-down house and
completely restore it to its former glory.

The Asian man was just pulling away from a large
four story restored row house when I turned the corner and stopped.
Ho scanned the area around her carefully before climbing the steps,
inserting a key, and disappearing into the house. I parked at the
end of the block to avoid arousing any suspicions. Besides, the
parking spaces in front of the house were all taken.

“
Let’s stick around for a while,”
I said as I pulled out my Mac to complete some overdue reports. “As
you know, my brother is a cop. I can get him to run the plate for
us.”

“
Won’t he get in trouble?” Roni
asked.

“
He’s OK with running plates,” she
said. “That’s about it though. He can’t really do anymore than
that.”

“
I can check out the restaurant
and this address again while you’re gone. By the time you get back,
we might have some idea what our little Ho is up to.”

“
I’ll give you Lionel’s number,”
Roni said. “He can do some background checks when you get a name
off the plates.”

“
He’s going to be a good resource
for us. It sounds like he has some great contacts.”

“
Yeah, he does,” Roni said. “I
feel a little guilty about asking David for help.”

“
I’m sure he’s happy to do
something for you, Roni. You were really there for him when he
needed it.”

After an hour and a half, there seemed to be a kind
of disturbing pattern that emerged. Every 30 minutes, several men
would leave the residence, climb in their vehicles, and drive away.
They were quickly replaced by another group of men who arrived at
five-to-ten minute intervals, parked, and entered the
residence.

“
So, is it just me or are you
thinking the same thing?” Roni asked.

“
You mean, do you think our little
Ho really is a Ho?”

Chapter Twenty-One

Roni’s early flight into Lexington, Kentucky was
already forgotten by the time she drove her bargain rental through
the downtown streets. Though Lexington was billed as the Horse
Capital of the World, this part of town was not full of rolling
hills, green pastures or quaint farmhouses. This part of Lexington
looked as if its residents barely eked out a living, leaving them
no time or maybe more appropriately, no energy to maintain their
houses in any kind of pristine condition.

Roni consulted the directions again, making the last
turn that took her to Baker Street, where Marian’s brother, Anthony
Cirillo lived. Roni had called from the airport. Given Anthony’s
somewhat less than enthusiastic response, she had very low
expectations for this interview.

She stopped two blocks down when she realized the
number on the house matched the one on her directions. Last chance
to forget all about this and go home she thought as she got out of
the car and walked up the cracked concrete driveway.

Roni pressed the doorbell, took a deep breath, and
waited. And waited some more. She rang the bell again and stepped
back from the door, convinced Anthony Cirillo had either left or
was now on the phone with his beloved sister Marian discussing
Roni’s intrusion. As she was about to retrace her steps, the front
door opened wide, revealing a slight, gray-haired man with small
reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. He was wiping his
hands on a stained towel that had seen better days.