Brenda Chiatovich:
Now you know one reason my daughter’s picture is here. But wait, there is more.
Tiffany Chiatovich Melendez:
So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.
Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.
Morgan and Delavera were on their way back to town to deliver the flash drive to Collars when the call came. Davenport was in custody and in the hospital in serious condition. They changed course.
The hospital was crowded. It seemed to be a night for knife wounds, beatings, two cardiac arrests, and one passed out drunk.
DeVry and his partner Peters were the designated guards. DeVry did not smile. “Collars said you might show up.”
“We are here.”
“He thinks you have a special interest in the case.”
“I do.”
“He said if you did show up to tell you to take over. And don’t screw this one up or he’ll have your head.” DeVry was in professional, “This is my job. I’m doing it,” mode. He did not take the pronouncement as a joke. Neither did Morgan nor Delavera.
“Can do that. Delavera has a flash drive for you. You take it straight to Collars and tell him he has to listen to it immediately.” Morgan looked at Delavera.
Delavera shook her head in a gesture of defeat. She searched her pockets. Pulled a plastic bag with a flash drive in it out of her left. Handed it to Morgan, who examined it through the plastic carefully. He was relieved to see it was undamaged. Clipped to the bag was a small ticket. Morgan signed it, handed the pen to DeVry.
“We want the chain intact. Make sure Collars signs off on it.”
DeVry nodded and did so.
“You sure this is a good idea? Asked Delavera.
“Yep. DeVry and Peters would only be watching to make sure she doesn’t escape. They don’t have orders to protect her from a killer and they wouldn’t worry about it without orders. If we told them they might up their vigil but they wouldn’t put any stock in it.”
“Excuse me,” Delavera told him, pulling out her cell phone. “My cousin is calling me.”
She spoke spanish far too fast for him to follow, although what he did catch made him wonder why she appeared to be discussing the quality of cigarettes when to his knowledge she had never smoked.
Morgan went to L C’s bedside. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Hurt.”
“Doctors say there is nothing serious. How much do you remember?”
“Every,” there was a pause as L C drew another breath, “thing.”
“That is good. We will need a statement from you later. Right now you better rest.”
Doctors came and went. Nurses came and went. Morgan examined the identification of each person as they entered.
“Why you doing that?” asked one nurse. “The other policemen didn’t.”
Morgan shrugged. “Everybody does their job the best they know how.” The nurse said nothing but the look she gave him had wtf all over it.
Both a doctor and a nurse were in the room when an old Mexican grandmother tottered into the room hanging onto the door, “¿Dónde está el baño?” she asked in a weak and shaky voice.
Morgan frowned at her, wondering why anyone would look for a bathroom here.
“She is just an old lady,” Delavera said. “Let me get this one.” She took the old ladies hand, folded it in her own, and said, “Todo está bien, abuelita. Ven comigo, por favor.”
Morgan kept an eye on them, but nothing seemed suspicious as Delavera led the old lady down the hallway toward the waiting room where the bathrooms were. He turned back to the doctor and nurse. Everything seemed fine. Morgan wondered why he felt so on edge.
“That should help you with the pain,” the doctor said to L C. “Can you talk now?”
“Yes. Much better.” Her smile was tentative, her voice was hopeful.
The doctor turned to Morgan. “Try not to upset her. She has been through a lot.”
“It’s okay, doctor. What I have to say should calm her down and make her happy.”
The doctor nodded. “Good.” He left.
Delavera came back into the room. Morgan rounded the bed where it would be easy to look into L C’s eyes, which were both pleading and hopeful. Delavera joined him. Delavera held L C’s hand.
“We found the flash drive with the confession on it. You should be okay now.”
L C Squeezed Delavera’s hand and cried silently.
© 2015 All Rights Reserved
The Homewrecker Series (tm) 
Leave a Reply