Tests and more x-rays filled the afternoon. Busy people in blue scrubs, fussed around, patted her on the shoulder, and told her she’d be just fine. When they wheeled her back to her room, she found an orchid plant from Linda. Sandy would call her later. Another call was more important just then. The law firm in Philadelphia was waiting for her decision.
She phoned Joanna. A hit and run, she explained without further details. Joanna was aghast and kept pressing for particulars—if it’s not serious then why is she in the hospital? Sandy’s boss got on the phone and told her not to worry about hurrying back to work. The company wanted her to get well, not to worry about the expense. They would hold off any decision regarding her employment.
“Ron, that’s marvelous and I’m overwhelmed, but I’ve already made my decision.” In fact, she had just decided after talking with Raymond. Helping him was unfinished, and no way could she leave town with Moran winning, and the murderer unknown. Also, there was the matter of Chip.
She told Ron, “I’ve decided to stay here until my brother is safely out on bail. It’s a circumstantial case and it’s entirely possible a confused jury would convict him. I’ll do what I can. Thanks to all you guys for the special consideration. I don’t expect you to hold the job open for me. It may take two weeks or two years. After that, if the company still wants me—well, we’ll see.”
She awoke late in the afternoon. She tried to pull herself up but was too stiff and sore. She thought about her precious Miata, also crumpled and hurt, but beyond all possible healing. Of course, she could buy a new car, but she loved the old one. She wanted it back. They had shared some good adventures and nearly died together. That bastard Pirro tried to bury them both together in that country canal.
Pirro would come after her again. She knew that. Even so, the attempt on her life had challenged her and made her angry. He had picked on the wrong girl. She had no intention of waiting around for him to try again. He had to pay.
She buzzed the nurse for help sitting up and asked for the phone. She needed a different kind of help just now. “Hello, Linda, it’s Sandy. Thanks for the orchid plant. It’s beautiful and you’re a sweetheart.”
“Sandy! So happy you’re okay. I hope Chip catches that bastard. Can I come up to see you?”
“Not yet, but I do need a favor.”
“Anything.”
“Do you own a gun?”
“Anything but that. You’re not getting it. The police will protect you from Pirro.”
“How did you know his name?”
“Some cop mentioned it, I guess.”
“I need it for preemptive purposes. What do you have?”
“Preemptive hell—don’t even think about that going-after-him shit. Yes, I have a .38. Do you even know firearms?”
“I’ve been shown a trick or two. I’m serious, Linda, and I’m not going to argue with you. Do I get your gun or not?”
“The Florida sun has baked your brain. Let me warn you, Sugar, if you go through with this, Chip won’t hesitate to arrest you.”
“It’ll be self-defense. A cop in Philly showed me exactly how to stage it. They won’t even bring charges against me.”
“It’s dangerous, and you could get yourself killed. You know, you won’t fool Chip and you could lose him over this. He hates people who pick up a gun to settle a score. He’s says they’re not trustworthy. He’s likely to write you off in a hurry.”
“Linda?”
“You’re a dangerous woman, you know it? Okay, you could get one fast in Florida anyway. But I have to meet with you first and discuss it. And I must be certain that you’re off all medications.'
Sandy started forming a vague plan. She’d lure Pirro into the open. That part would be easy. He’d underestimate her just like everyone else. He’d macho around, showing off, and she’d let him strut for a minute. Then, she’d blow him away. He’d die with a very surprised look on his face. She’d do it for Elena and God knows how many other women—past and future.
After the evening meal, and more medication, she felt sleepy. Cloudy thoughts swirled around in her mind. There in her drowsy fog she saw herself going after Pirro. He was standing there beside his huge vehicle. She saw herself taking out the gun and slipping the safety off. Then he got blurry and disappeared. She was drifting and floating. Looking down, she could see the blurry body of a tall, skinny man wearing a baseball cap. He was lying face down in a pond filled with blood, his body jerking with spastic movements in spite of the iron stake piercing his chest and sticking up out of his back.
It was late when she awoke. Dark outside, lights were low, and the hospital was quiet. She became aware that her legs felt tingly as though they were falling asleep. She sat up in bed and rubbed them. She gradually began to realize that she could feel the rubbing. A slight feeling but it was there, definitely tingling and somewhat stinging. She buzzed for the nurse. When the nurse came in, Sandy had tears on her cheeks. She was laughing and wiggling her toes. How delightful to wiggle your toes and feel the pull of muscle.
Chapter 27
The next morning Goddard stopped at his desk to pick up his messages and review the overnight Incident Report. A new item was listed: Accident-Fatal. In the space for victim: Abelando Pirro—a name Goddard had already memorized. He asked to see the Police Report. His aide said it was on the chief’s desk.
“Chief, we’ve got an Abelando Pirro dead last night. Can I see the report?”
“Only have the prelim, happened late. He fell from a condo balcony over on Banyon. They found his body impaled on the iron fence surrounding the pool. Draped over a sharp metal picket like a dead fish on a hook. M.E. said he probably lived for hours and just bled to death. Hellava way to go. Another foot or so out and he’d just gotten wet in the pool and be sobering up this morning. Had been drinking, before he fell. Why, do you know something about it?”
“I can tell you right now, it was murder.”
“How do you know? You haven’t even seen the report.”
“He didn’t fall, he was pushed, it’s murder.” Goddard started flipping through his notes. “Who’s getting it?”
“Won’t be you, your hands are full.”
“It’s connected, Chief,” he pleaded, “part of my case. That’s the address for Norma Martin. He’s the bad guy who ran Sandy Reid off the road two nights ago. That’s attempted murder. I was searching for him.”
“This Pirro death happened on Sergeant Huress’ watch,” the chief said. “He investigated last night. Said it was a couple of drunken Cuban-Americans. Look at this, he got a nice statement from the girlfriend.”
“Of course it’s an absolutely perfect statement. She made it up.”
“Huress did okay. I’m keeping him on it.”
“He’s not a detective, not qualified. Don’t do this to me, Chief. This could be important. Damn. At least now I can stop looking for him.”
Goddard read the report, then stepped outside the chief’s office and called Sandy. “How do you feel this morning?”
“The doctor said my temporary leg numbness was stress and strain related. He had some big name for it. I’m being released this morning.”
“Great, I’m very happy for you. And you can relax, Pirro won’t bother you again.”
“You caught him already? That was fast. But I didn’t want him caught. I wanted him dead. Well, don’t put
