Chapter 17

“…uzi! Suzi? Suzi!” Gracie Lynn’s voice slowly came into focus from a faint echo.

She blinked, disoriented, feeling Lynn’s gentle hands on her face. Her head rested in Lynn’s lap, and the world swirled around her.

Footsteps approached, and Nick’s concerned voice cut through the fog. “What happened?”

Lynn’s explanation echoed in Suzi’s ears. “She collapsed after I asked her to do a body removal.”

Suzi sat up, her mind a jumble. Why was she on the floor?

Nick knelt beside her, his eyes searching hers. “Suzi? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah. Yes. I think I’m fine,” she stammered, trying to regain her bearings.

Nick’s observation made her chuckle weakly. “You’re really pale, hon.”

Her retort came out half-hearted. “And you’re really dark.”

His chuckle eased the tension.

Suzi glanced at Lynn, her heart racing. “Aiden is dead?” The words slipped out, raw and desperate.

“What?” Lynn and Nick reacted simultaneously, their voices a blend of confusion and shock. Lynn’s tone held a question, Nick’s an exclamation.

Suzi’s tears flowed freely. “The body removal—It’s Aiden…”

Realization spread across Lynn’s face. “No. His name is Hayden McCoy. An older gentleman who looks like he had a heart attack.”

“Hayden? Oh my god!” Relief surged through Suzi. “I’m sorry, Nick, but I have to go.”

Nick’s concern surfaced. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

“Yeah, Suz. You should chill for a minute,” Lynn added.

Suzi’s determination flared. “Aiden isn’t dead. I could run a marathon.”

With Nick and Lynn’s help, she regained her feet. Blood rushed back, and despite a slight headache, she felt better.

Nick tried to persuade her to stay. “You can go into the office for a quiet place to sit.”

But Suzi had one goal: check on Aiden. “No. I’m really okay.” She walked away, leaving Nick’s grasp behind.

His parting words followed her. “Please be safe.”

In the locker room, she changed into comfort clothes and called Rio. The somber calm in Rio’s voice tugged at Suzi’s heart.

“How’s everything going?” Suzi asked.

Rio’s response was measured. “No changes. Pops and Reed are in there now. Grandma and I are getting food and booking a hotel room.”

Suzi’s resolve solidified. “I’ll check on Ygritte, change clothes, and be back up for the night.”

“The hospital staff said visiting hours would end at six. No one is allowed to stay the night in the room.”

“Son of a bitch. I didn’t think about that.” Suzi glanced at the clock. It was just after 2 p.m. “I’ll be there by 3, and we’ll all do something tonight, alright?”

“Sounds good,” Rio agreed.

She hung up the phone and drove to her apartment. Aiden’s truck was still parked in front as a stark reminder. It dawned on her that she may not have access, so she fished Detective Wilson’s card out of her purse and called the number.

“Hello. This is Detective Wilson,” he answered.

“Hi, Phineas. This is Suzi Burch. Do you know if the police and forensics teams are done with my apartment?”

“Hi, Suzi. Yes, they have cleared it. It’s all yours. We added a few extra patrols in your neighborhood as well, just to be safe. So, if you feel anything is off, call 9-1-1, which should expedite the response time.”

“Thank you. Are there any updates?” she asked.

His reply was cryptic. “Interesting information about the building and Dr. C. E. Adamson. Still investigating though, nothing I can share.”

“Okay. Thanks Phin.”

She felt awkward calling him Phin.

“Of course. Take care.”

The line disconnected, and Suzi felt a surge of energy. She took the stairs, ignoring the ancient elevator. On the second floor, remnants of blood lingered, but the scent of detergent filled the air. Ricky’s art studio door beckoned.

“Ricky?” she called out.

His reply echoed with familiarity. “Yo!”

Suzi stepped into Ricky’s studio, her senses immediately assaulted by a riot of colors. Combat boots stood neatly by the door, laces tucked in. The floor plan mirrored her own apartment upstairs, but here, unfinished walls exposed the raw bones of the space. No sliding barn door partition separated areas; instead, a small kitchenette and a mattress on the floor marked the boundaries.

Through the studs, she glimpsed Ricky’s makeshift closet. A few changes of clothes hung on a bar—a minimalist wardrobe for an artist. Dark grey tiles covered the floor, but splashes of paint transformed it into a canvas of its own. Suzi’s brain buzzed with the vibrant chaos.

The glass south-eastern wall offered a view, albeit partially blocked by a tree. It was not as remarkable as her own, but still a portal to the outside world. On the wall below where her couch would be, a gallery of paintings—various sizes, each telling a story. An easel held a large canvas, shrouded in white. Next to it, a cart displayed an array of paints, brushes, and a bucket of greenish-brown liquid.

“I just wanted to check in,” Suzi called out to Ricky. He worked near a tub, either emptying or filling a carpet cleaning machine.

His eyes met hers through the studs. “Everything and everyone good?”

Suzi’s heart tightened. “No change with Aiden. I haven’t seen Ygritte yet, and I don’t have Tom or Becca’s number.”

Ricky’s response was pragmatic: “I’ll give him a heads-up. He’s not a fan of surprise visitors.”

“But he’s opening a retail store?” she asked with a raised eyebrow and half-smirk.

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Ricky shrugged and smiled. “Hey, by the way, I’ve cleaned the hall carpet to your door the best I could, but I think I will have to replace the carpet, so be prepared. I couldn’t get all the blood up. And your apartment is still a mess. I would honestly toss that rug under your bed. You lost a lot of blood, and that rug is soaked to the knap. I’m surprised you didn’t die.”

“I think it was close.”

“You’ve had a rough couple of weeks, kid.”

“It can only get better from here, right?” she laughed, knowing that she may have just jinxed herself. “I’m going to shower and change and see Ygritte for a bit, then head to the hospital.”

“I’ll text Tom now.”

“Thanks. Later.”

“Stay awesome!” he called out after her.

Suzi sprinted up the stairs, her mind racing. The blood-soaked carpet where Ygritte had lain still haunted her. Ricky had tried, but she’d bled for too long. She pushed down any emotional reaction and entered her trashed apartment.

Fingerprint dust lingered where the forensics team had worked. Suzi wondered why—both men wore gloves in the video. Standard procedure, perhaps, to rule out their prints against hers and Aiden’s.

Her gaze swept the studio. Blood stained the living room floor and couch—where Ygritte had been shot. Broken trinkets and vases lay scattered, remnants of Aiden’s fight.

Aiden! His wallet and keys sat neatly on the back corner of the kitchen counter.

“Old habits die hard,” she said to herself.

She picked up the wallet and keys trying to decide what to do.

“A good wife will never go through her husband’s wallet,” Suzanne preached.

Suzi put the wallet down.

“A good wife doesn’t leave her husband either,” the hateful Judy reminded.

She winced and picked up the wallet.

“’Character’ is what we do when no one is looking,” Ralph added.

She put the wallet back down and took a step towards the bedroom.

“It might have a clue that will help us!” Judith noted.

She turned back and picked up the wallet, her fingers trembling. He was never one to carry pictures in his wallet. His wallet was always pristine—clean, crisp, and thin. Her heart broke a little bit when she saw that he still had the little inappropriate sticker she had given him for their 15th anniversary that showed a donut that looked like an erect penis with a mouth and tongue around it, that said ‘All girls love a cream filled long john.’ The driver’s license, credit cards, and cash were still in place—clearly not the result of a robbery.

Her bed had been stripped bare, but her purse and its scattered contents lay in a haphazard pile next to the nightstand. She shoveled everything back into the purse, adding Aiden’s wallet and keys to the mix. She paused, reflecting on her asthma inhaler. She hadn’t needed it since before the attack on Dr. Adamson.

In the bathroom, she undressed, wincing as she removed the gauze covering her wound. The mirror revealed the jagged cut, a reminder of the struggle. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears.

“Daaaymn! We are hot!” James admired.

Suzi smiled, feeling a mix of pride and vulnerability. “Yeah. Not bad.”

Her stomach felt flatter, and her breasts seemed perkier. Even the skin on her neck, though not as saggy as she’d convinced herself, appeared tighter.

“I would fuck us,” Annie said.

The hot water cascaded over her, washing away the blood, the hospital smell, and the funeral home’s sterile chill, replaced with the sweet scent of her coconut-scented body wash.

Thoughts of Aiden and the conversation with Judas about leaving the demon in a deceased body swirled in her mind. She stepped out of the shower, the bathroom mirror revealing the faint name ‘Judas’ written in condensation from nearly a week ago. She dressed, securing fresh gauze and tape over her side wound, and slipped on her pink Converse tennis shoes.

Deciding to take Aiden’s pickup, she pushed the start button. The dash cam chimed, drawing her attention. She retrieved the camera from the window, scrolling through the recorded videos and pictures taken in ‘Parked Mode.’ There it was—the night Aiden was taken. The same interference that marred Ricky’s camera footage occurred when the man exited the car. The driver and passenger were barely visible, but she locked the file to preserve it.

Driving to Tom’s building, she pulled around back. A man and woman unloaded boxes from a nondescript moving truck. They eyed her pickup suspiciously until she stepped out.

The woman, tall and tan, smiled and jogged over. “Suzi, right?” she asked, extending her hand. “I’m Alanna.”

Suzi shook her hand, her curiosity piqued. “Yup, that’s me.”

“Kyle and I helped Tom work on your dog,” Alanna said.

Suzi realized they were the other two blurry figures in the plastic room.

“She’s a love-bug,” Alanna said, smiling, and showing all of her teeth.

This was not a woman Suzi would have wanted to make angry. Alanna’s height and fitness were intimidating, but her smile was terrifying. It was like Cujo baring his teeth before he ripped your face off.

“How is she?” Suzi asked.

“Oh, she’s fine. We just walked her, but she can’t run around yet. Maybe another day. She’s eating and drinking well.”

“Can I go in and see her?”

“Of course.”

Alanna turned, her pinkies pressed into the corners of her mouth, and emitted a piercing whistle. The sound reverberated through Suzi’s skull, leaving her momentarily disoriented. Kyle halted his task, glancing at Alanna. She signaled to him, and he responded with a thumbs-up.

Suzi followed Alanna into the building. The door pad beeped as Alanna punched in a code, granting them access. The room felt familiar—Suzi’s recovery room. Her heart fluttered as she spotted Ygritte, the white pitbull, sprawled on a new oversized dog bed. The dog’s tail thumped against the floor, a joyful rhythm. A leash tethered Ygritte to the bed, restricting her movements. A self-adhesive bandage wrapped around her belly and back leg, evidence of recent surgery.

Suzi dropped to the floor, her fingers brushing Ygritte’s soft fur. The dog’s tongue swept across Suzi’s face, and her tail wagged with exuberance.

“Calm down,” Suzi murmured. “I missed you too, girl. Momma was worried.”

Footsteps echoed from another room, and Suzi turned to find Tom approaching. His jovial demeanor from the previous day had vanished.

“Ms. Burch,” he said, all business now. “Have you come to settle your bill?”

Suzi sat up, her eyes widening. “Well, yeah. I mean, I guess I can.” She stood, feeling a mix of gratitude and uncertainty.

Tom theatrically pulled a crumpled paper from his back pocket, pretending to read aloud. “Let’s see here: one dog dissection, one soda, one candy bar, assorted clothes, and an abundance of questions.” He chuckled, tucking the paper away.

Suzi blinked, unsure how to interpret his playful tone.

“I’m kidding with ya,” Tom reassured her. “Rick and Poodle mentioned your doubts about the legitimacy of my little shop.”

Relief washed over Suzi. “It just doesn’t seem… legit,” she admitted, gesturing vaguely.

“We’ve had our startup hiccups,” Tom conceded. “But it’s all on the up-and-up. I’ve got the business license to prove it, Inspector.” His accent wavered into a mock British lilt.

Suzi’s smile held genuine warmth. “You fixed me and my dog. If you have secrets, I won’t spill.”

Tom’s expression turned serious. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Good. Because if you did, I’d have to reveal the two-ounce C4 explosive device I implanted inside you and Ygritte.” He mimicked an explosion with his hands, lips forming a silent “Booooom.”

Suzi’s uncertainty returned. Was he joking?

Alanna rolled her eyes. “Tom, even the Rangers wouldn’t trust you with explosives. You’d blow yourself up.” She playfully punched his arm, a move that looked like it should have knocked him through the wall.

Suzi laughed, her discomfort easing. Tom retaliated by imitating Alanna, rubbing his arm where she’d hit him.

“Seriously,” Tom said, regaining his composure. “Ygritte’s doing well. Stitches and incision intact. She’ll need to take it easy for another day or so.”

“Thank you for everything,” Suzi said sincerely. “And if you need payment, just tell me.”

“Ah, a blank check?” Tom raised an eyebrow. “Interested in becoming a silent investor in a sporting goods store?” He air-quoted “sporting goods store” and winked. “No worries—it’s all on the house. First one’s free.” With that, he strolled away.

Suzi couldn’t resist. “Hey, Tom—”

He halted, turning back. “Yes’m?”

“There’s a dash cam in the truck. Can you retrieve the SD card and check the video file I locked? Maybe we can identify the driver and front passenger.”

“That’s more Poodle’s territory,” Tom replied. “But I’ll give it a shot. If not, I’ll send it his way.”

Suzi tossed him the keys, and he caught them deftly.

“Ah, free truck!” He disappeared out the back door.

“He’s a character, isn’t he?” Suzi remarked to Alanna, squatting down to shower Ygritte with affection. The pitbull’s tail wagged, and her eyes sparkled with joy.

“Yeah,” Alanna agreed, her tone cryptic. “He’s something, alright.”

Curiosity tugged at Suzi. “Are he and Becca… an item?”

“You might say that,” Alanna replied. “They served together, live together, and run this place side by side. Their love is quiet—no public displays, no grand ceremonies. We don’t pry, and they don’t share.”

“Phin mentioned you all grew up together,” Suzi said, her mind weaving connections.

“True,” Alanna confirmed. “Except for Becca. She arrived here with Tom after his retirement.”

Suzi shifted gears. “And you and Ricky—were you really in the CIA?”

“Ricky was a field agent,” Alanna revealed. “I’m still with them, working as an analyst.”

“Funny,” Suzi mused. “I’ve known Ricky for most of my adult life, yet I never suspected his covert past.”

“Ricky’s childhood was marked by tragedy,” Alanna explained. His mom passed away when he was around 12 or 13. His dad relocated them to Missouri and remarried. When Ricky turned 18, he left his father’s house and came here to live with Tom and Phin for a while. Later, he and Tom enlisted in the Army. Ricky guarded his personal life fiercely after losing his mom.”

“Coincidentally,” Suzi said, “his dad married my mom in Missouri.”

“Life’s twists,” Alanna murmured. “Odd, isn’t it? You and Ricky reconnecting here after all these years. Perhaps it’s kismet.”

“Yeah,” Suzi agreed, her gaze on Ygritte. “Kismet.”