“Thank you. So are you aware of Mr. Jackson’s arrest record, and last night did you see him engage in any drug related sales or purchases?”
“Okay, hold it right there! Where is this going? Did you not catch that we were at a family diner having banana splits? We weren’t on the corner of drug central trying to score a kilo.”
“Believe me, I know, but could you just answer the question,” he said, apologetically.
“Fine, no and no.”
“What do you mean, no and no?”
“No, I am not aware of his past. And no, I did not see him engage in any drug deals,” she said, as matter of fact.
The young man couldn’t help himself, and felt bad that she was feeling so defensive, so he said more than he should have. “Listen, I probably shouldn’t say anything to you but I think you deserve to know a few things.”
“Thank you!”
“Jasper Jackson has several arrests for both possession and intent to distribute marijuana. Nothing recent mind you, but back about 4 years ago he had several scrapes with the law, so when something like this happens, we have to rule out that it was not drug related. Unfortunately, they usually are.”
“Oh, my heavens, that had not even occurred to me. Jasper is such a nice guy. I suspected he smoked some weed but didn’t know he was selling or anything.”
“Now don’t get me wrong, he’s never been busted actually selling, he just had enough in his possession that it looked like he was going to distribute. Charges never stuck and he pleaded down to a lesser charge. Has only ever spent a couple of days in jail with no felony charges.”
“Well, that does make me feel a little bit better, but do you think this had something to do with drugs?”
“Most likely; looks like Jasper was singled out by the shooter,” the cop said. “One final question, then you’ll be free to go. I’m sure you're anxious to see your friend.”
“Yes, I am, let’s get this done with,” she agreed.
The officer laid the pen he’d been using on the clipboard and sat back looking at Blanche. “Miss Delaney, are you currently seeing anybody, romantically that is?”
The way the question was posed had Blanche a little confused, “Who’s asking? You or the police department?”
“The police department, of course,” he said, clearing his voice and dropping it an octave in the process.
“Oh, okay. Well yes. It’s not serious but I have just recently, mind you, started to see a college student that I work with. His name is Seymour Wood.”
“Thank you,” he said, reaching for the pen and writing Seymour’s name on the pad. “Is there any possibility that he, either directly or indirectly, could have been involved with last night’s shooting?”
“You think Seymour was involved?” the flabbergasted Blanche asked.
“Remember, we’re just trying to get to the bottom of who hurt your friend. We have to explore every possible avenue.”
“I suppose.”
“Can you answer the question, and can you positively rule out that the man you saw walk through the diner, and into the bathroom, was not this Seymour Wood?” The young police officer stressed his question by leaning closer to Blanche, pen in hand.
She thought for a long moment before she replied, “No, I don’t think there is any way on this earth that Seymour was involved, and I almost hate to answer the second part of your question,” she hesitated. “And no, I can’t 100 % be sure that it was not him in the diner. If you’ll recall, I said I didn’t get a very good look at him, but I know Seymour wouldn’t do anything like that. I swear!”
“That will be all. Thanks for your cooperation, we’ll contact you if we need anything further,” he finished.
They concluded the interview by Blanche providing her current address, contact numbers, place of employment and a few other odds and ends, but then she was free to go after signing the notes that the officer had taken. When she returned to the waiting area she could see Rufus, aimlessly walking around, asking people where Jasper was. Most treated him like a worthless homeless person that was looking for a handout. Blanche quickly went to him and put her arm around his shoulders.
“Where’s ma bo, where’s Jaspa? Cops jus cum n’ pic me up, jus say Jasper’s been shot,” Rufus said, eyes red from the tears and filled with confusion.
“He’s either still in surgery or in recovery by now. Let’s talk to a nurse and see what we can find out,” she sympathetically reacted to the older man’s needs.
They found their way to the nurse’s station and asked about Jasper. The first nurse would not release any information but a young lady standing nearby and hearing what they were after, pulled Blanche aside and whispered to her, “Mr. Jackson is in the recovery room and in a couple of hours will be brought to room 322. Watch for him then, he’ll be able to have family visitors.”
“Thank you so much, you’ve been very helpful,” Blanche said, squeezing the young ladies arm in appreciation.
The old man and beauty spent the next couple of hours chatting in the cafeteria, talking and sometimes laughing. It helped to pass the time and ease the worry. Rufus was certainly a storyteller and Blanche enjoyed the time together. He was a good-hearted old soul and she appreciated the kindness he had extended to her, and she was happy to reciprocate in his hour of need.
At the appointed hour they took the elevator to the third floor and followed the signs until they came to room 322. They could hear Jasper’s deep voice and a young lady giggling inside. The two stepped inside to see Jasper lying on his side, sheets pulled up to his waist, and a hospital gown covering his upper body. He was groggy but awake and had been having some fun with the candy striper, trying to convince her that he needed some assistance taking a leak, and could she hold it for him. Blanche suspected it wasn’t the first time she’d been given that offer.
“There you two are,” he said, as they entered the room. “Was wondering if you had deserted me.”
“Jaspa, me boy, how ya doin’? Ya hurt bad?” his father asked, going to his side and holding his large head against his chest.
“No pops, mutha shot me in my thickest muscle, right in my gluteus maximus. Docs said didn’t hit anythin' but USDA 100 % ass, no bone or vessels. Said surgery was a breeze, just had to remove the slug. I’m feelin' pertty lucky.”
Blanche joined Rufus bedside, leaned over and kissed Jasper on the forehead, “I’m so glad to see that you’ll be okay, we were so worried about you. All that blood, and you were in so much pain, it was pretty scary.”
“How long they be keepin’ ya here, son?” Rufus asked.
Jasper motioned, pointing to the tubes and bottles that were running liquids into his veins, “They said they have ta watch fer infections fer a couple of days, but if I don’t run a fever I can go home if I’m up to it. Just feelin’ really tired and the painkiller is starting to wear off a little bit. Feels like somebody took a bite out of my butt. Hope the scar won’t affect my posing, been told my ass is my second best muscle,” he said, winking at Blanche, causing her to blush.
“Well Jasper, I can see that you need some rest, as do I. I think I’ll be able to go home and get some sleep, now that I know you’re going to be okay. I’ll stop by in a day or two and check on you.”
“I’d like that. Bring a book from the library and read to me,” he said, half joking but quite serious.
“Okay, bye you two.” She departed, but not without kissing each on the cheek before finding her way to the front of the hospital, and into the backseat of a cab for the ride home.
* * *
Beverly Davis sat in the waiting area of her realty office waiting for her newest client to show up. The prospect of showing the large parcel had energized the depressed realtor and given her hope that perhaps she’d still close on some kind of deal soon. The bottom had certainly dropped out of the market the past week and nothing was moving. People had been cancelling opportunities to explore what was available, but the number of new listings was up dramatically, and people willing to take a fairly large hit on the price, if it could just be sold quickly. These were more the units and homes near the base. Beverly had a hard time understanding the whole stalker phenomena. She had a loaded 32 caliber semi-automatic pistol that she kept with her at all times, had a permit to carry it as a concealed weapon and felt pretty comfortable loading and firing it. At close range she was
