Dying Memories by Dave Zeltserman

Author:Dave Zeltserman [Zeltserman, Dave]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: StoneGate Ink
Published: 2011-03-22T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 47

Chuck Boxer stood in the hospital hallway listening as Karen Wilkerson’s doctor gave him a rundown of her fractured and broken bones, as well as her internal injuries. “She’s only been out from under anesthesia for forty-fives minutes,” the doctor informed Boxer. “Her spleen was ruptured in the attack. If we didn’t remove it when we did she’d be dead now.”

“This was done by fists?” Boxer asked.

“Fists and feet, yes. Although I’ve had car crash patients who’ve gone through windshields end up in better shape.”

“She can talk?”

“She can, but please limit yourself to no more than ten minutes,” he said. Shaking his head in wonderment, he added, “She’s very lucky. By all accounts she should be dead, or at the very least, in a vegetative state.”

Boxer nodded his thanks and entered Karen Wilkerson’s room. She looked in rough shape, almost like a mummy that had been half unwrapped; her skull bandaged, a cast covering one arm from shoulder to fingers and more bandages around her middle. What could be seen of her face was a purplish mess. Her eyes were open, though, and watching him. The morphine drip explained their dull sheen. Boxer approached her and identified himself. “Ms. Wilkerson, are you up to talking?” he asked.

Her chin moved up and down a fraction of an inch. Boxer asked if she could tell him what happened. The morphine made her voice flat and haltering, and she had to stop periodically to catch her breath, probably because of her broken ribs. She told Boxer how Bill Conway broke into Hartley’s townhouse at three in the morning, surprised them in the bedroom, then stabbed Joe to death before turning on her.

“What were you doing while Conway was stabbing your boyfriend?”

Karen stared fixedly at Boxer. “I can’t remember,” she said.

“Understandable,” Boxer said. “You must’ve been in shock. How good a look did you get at Conway?”

“I saw him as clear as you standing there right now,” she told him, her voice rising slightly in anger at the thought of Bill Conway, the emotion also tightening her lips.

“Were the lights on or off?”

She stared blankly as she tried to remember. “They must’ve been on,” she said, “I could see him so clearly.”

Boxer made a note of that in his pad, asked, “Had he been threatening you lately?”

She shook her head.

“You two been in contact?”

“No. Not since we broke up.”

Boxer stood frowning. Like a lot of other things with this investigation, it didn’t add up. Why the fuck would Conway do something like that out of the blue? Especially with someone like Emily Chandler in the picture?

“Why do you think he did it?” he asked.

More of her dull morphine-saturated stare. Then, “Bill didn’t handle our breakup well. That’s all I can think of.”

There was a knock on the door. Karen’s doctor stuck his head in to signal to Boxer that his ten minutes was up. Boxer thanked Karen for talking to him and offered her his condolences for her loss and for what happened to her.

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