son of a bitch than I thought you were. If I had the time, I’d call my lawyer and have him change my will. I’d make you a rich little wop bastard, but you wouldn’t want it, would you?”
“No,” I said.
“No,” he said, eyes trying to focus now, voice failing. “I didn’t think so. Trying to do the right things before I die, but there are too many.”
“Maybe you’ll get better long enough to do a few more,” Sally said.
“You a nurse?” he whispered.
“No,” she said. “A friend.”
“Whose?”
“Lew’s,” she said. “Now yours.”
“Is there anyone we can call for you?” she asked.
Before he could answer, two people in blues, one man and one woman, came in the room and said they had to take him now. They were in a hurry.
“You can wait here or in the waiting room,” the man said.
Sally and I got cups of coffee from the vending machine and went into the lobby. It was Saturday but it was early and the weekend horror had slowed down until night came, but there were still people waiting.
“A kid named Alaska Dreamer ever make her way across your desk?” I asked.
“Alaska Dreamer? No, I’d remember, but I’ll ask around. Why?”
“I’ve got a present for her in the car.”
“Lew, are you all right?”
“Getting better all the time,” I said.
Sally drank some coffee.
“Maybe this is a bad time,” she said. “But remember the woman who was in my office the last time you came? Son named-”
“Darrell,” I said.
“She’s trying hard, Lew. How’d you like to be a Big Brother?”
“I wouldn’t,” I said.
“Think about it? You’re good with kids, Lew. You’re good with my kids.”
“I…”
The nurse in blue who had wheeled Bill Trasker out of the Emergency Room came through the sliding doors and approached us.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “He’s gone. Dr. Spence will talk to you, if you like. We’re getting in touch with Mr. Trasker’s children.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” the nurse said again, and walked solemnly back toward the emergency-room sliding doors.
“Let’s go, Lew,” Sally said.
I wondered if the Traskers’ kids would come. They could make it a double funeral. Mother and father. After all this time, almost strangers. I knew I would not be going.
We dropped our coffee cups in the parking-lot trash can and faced each other.
“Big Brother?” I asked.
“Darrell’s not easy,” Sally said. “Lew, if you do it, I wouldn’t hope for a lot from him.”
“I never hope for a lot,” I said.
“Anything you’d like to do today?” Sally asked, holding my hand.
“I’ve got to go to Viviase’s office and make a statement.”
“After that?”
“I don’t know. I wonder if Flo and Adele need anything for the barbecue tomorrow.”
“Let’s find out.”
Sally tracked down Francie and Alaska Dreamer on Monday.
I went to their apartment in Bradenton. Bubbles was there, filling the door. When she recognized me, she stepped out of the way and let me in. Francie was in a small kitchen off of a small living room with a small television.
It was late in the morning. Francie was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee.
“How’s your laundry?” she said when she saw me.
“Full of holes,” I said. “Is Alaska here?”
“No,” she said. “And much as I’d like to talk to you, I’ve got to gulp this down and get to work at Wendy’s. How did you find me?”
“I’m a process server,” I reminded her.
Bubbles behind me confirmed, “He’s a process server.”
“What can I do for you?” asked Francie. “You want a quick cup of coffee? A little chat about old times with Mom when I leave.”
“No, no thanks,” I said. “Is Alaska all right?”
“She’s fine,” Francie said. “At school. Kindergarten. Mom picks her up. Alaska’s hooked on that chopped-liver stuff now since you gave her the sandwich. If you’re worried about what all that shooting and the cops with guns did to her, it’s okay. She liked it. Told her friends. They didn’t believe her. I had to tell them it really happened. Alaska was a kindergarten celebrity for a few days.”
“Brought you something,” I said, taking an envelope out of my pocket and putting it in front of her on the table.
“You’re serving papers on my kid?” Bubbles said, angrily stepping in front of me, looming over me.
“No,” I said, ready for a punch this time if one was coming. “Look inside.”
Francie opened the envelope and counted the money.
“Six hundred dollars,” she said.
“A man and woman with two kids and plenty of money gave that to me to give to you when they heard about what happened at the Laundromat. They felt responsible.”
“Why? I mean, why did they feel responsible?”
“Long story. Do me a favor and take it. No strings. I’m out the door and out of your life.”
“I’m not turning down six hundred dollars,” Francie said with a smile. “You find any more people with bad consciences and money they don’t need, we’ll be here.”
“Sorry,” said Bubbles. “Thanks.”
“It’s okay.”
“I mean, I’m sorry I hit you that time.”
“Me, too.”
When I left the Dreamers, I returned the Nissan to Fred and Alan.
“Who was in the front seat of this car?” Alan asked, wiping his hands after inspecting the interior. “A pair of water buffalo after an afternoon of wallowing in the mud?”
“It’s Florida,” Fred said. “What do you expect?”
“We should add on a cleaning charge,” Alan grumbled.
“Al, come on. It’s almost halfway to Christmas,” Fred said, putting a calming hand on his partner’s shoulder. “We’ve got a good customer here. We don’t want to lose him.”
“All right,” Alan said, and then added to me, “How about a cup of coffee?”
“Sure,” I said, sitting down.
This time Alan went for the coffee.
“So,” said Fred, leaning back against his desk and folding his arms. “How’d the week go?”
“Fine,” I said. “Three murders, lots of threats, a couple of tries at killing me.”
“The usual,” Fred said with a big grin, as Alan returned with the coffee.
“Cream and sweetener, right?” Alan said, handing me the cup.
“Lew should be a finance officer in some big dealership in town. Can look you right in the eye and say someone’s trying to kill him and you almost believe him.”
“Lew’s got a sense of humor all right,” Alan said, handing his partner a cup of coffee.
