Nine Tenths by Jeff Macfee

Author:Jeff Macfee [Macfee, Jeff]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-625675-48-4
Publisher: JAB Books
Published: 2022-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Just after noon, the Treasury Secretary slipped into my room, as if he was afraid of waking me. The hospital seemed in no rush to discharge me. Patrick had left, Mak gone to scare up food. When Elbridge saw I was awake, he approached with hands in pockets and an almost-bemused look on his face. As if I was his own screw-up progeny.

“The lengths you’ll go to, son. To appear uninvolved.”

“For my next trick, I get stabbed in the eye. Further proof of my innocence.”

Elbridge grunted. Looked around the room as if Mak might be hiding behind the IV stand.

“You here to arrest me?” I asked.

He drifted closer. I smelled Old Spice and coffee. “Should I?”

“I was the victim.”

“That’s what they always say.”

Silence. Someone moved furniture in the room next door. I imagined the patient and their room full of awkward visitors. They didn’t know how good they had it.

Elbridge watched my mind drift. “Investigators say you didn’t see a face.”

An image. Woody staring at me, his eyes bloodshot. “Just a blur.”

“Hard to see a blur, I’ll grant you.” Elbridge help up his index finger. “How many fingers?”

“It’s the middle one, if you’re trying to send a message.”

“Not your eyes, then. It’s good you’ve got your health. Not everyone is so lucky.”

I swallowed. The news only hours old. “I was sorry to hear about Barb.”

He studied me as if I might be pulling his leg. Apparently, I passed muster. “She and I got to Austin at the same time. Worked the same cases and pulled the same all-nighters. Used to stuff ourselves on brisket over at Stubb’s. Drink one Shiner too many.” He curled his lips like he wanted to spit. “Until I moved on and up. And she didn’t.”

“She was good people.” It felt weird, expressing a sentiment I’d never demonstrated. “I’m glad she was finally going to get her shot.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That congresswoman thing. Rita Pham. Someone tried to shoot her?”

Elbridge’s bonhomie vanished. He fed me a canine stare. “Are you trying to get involved in another investigation?”

“What? No.”

“That case went FBI, and if you want to bark up their tree, go ahead. But I’d have thought this whole affair would have taught you a lesson. You have no business involving yourself with augment affairs. Period. You are an unqualified civilian. You will, pardon my French, stay the fuck out of it. Before I decide your friendship with Barb makes you more a suspect in her death than the guy who phased her heart into pudding.”

The man loved playing cop more than he did the mourner. Sadly, I was more comfortable with this persona, even if it did mean my ass.

“There was a rumor about Barb,” he said. “Water-cooler stuff. She lived well, on an agent’s salary. Maybe a bit too well. Nice house in a nice neighborhood. New TV every year.”

“This is your friend Barb we’re talking about?”

He moved to the edge of the bed. His fingers scraping the sheet near my injured arm. “You were in her place.

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