Dying To Play. Debra Webb
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disease sometimes spread to other organs. Her heart lurched at the implication. Could she die from this? She should have asked him for more complete details. But Henshaw had called and she’d had to leave abruptly. Surely she wasn’t going to die. He’d said the specialist would explain the possible effects on her future.
One had to be alive to have a future.
But what kind of future? Nothing would ever be the same again, that much she was certain of. She was damaged goods now, just like her new partner. Who would want to marry a woman incapable of bearing children? She thought of her gang of nieces and nephews and the pleasure having them in her life gave her. She might never know how it felt to hold her own child in her arms…
Tears welled in her eyes. She didn’t want to cry. She was stronger than that. Her mother and sister would have a fit when they found out she hadn’t called them with this news first thing after leaving the doctor’s office. She couldn’t talk about it with anyone right now. Not even Henshaw when he’d asked. If she told anyone, it would be like making it real. She didn’t want it to be that real…yet.
She didn’t want to think about it, either.
She grabbed her empty bottle and headed back to the kitchen. She stopped in the living room long enough to pop in her favorite jazz CD. The sultry music drifted along behind her as she made her way into the kitchen. Eating would be a good thing right now…especially since she hadn’t bothered to all day except for a few snack crackers and a diet cola.
Leftover Chinese from last night looked easy enough. She wasn’t in the mood to cook or clean up afterward. A couple minutes in the microwave and dinner would be served.
Elaine poured Sally a bowlful of her favorite kibbles. She filled a small pitcher with tap water and poured it into the dog’s matching water bowl. As she stroked the animal, she realized Allen had brushed Sally today. Good. She just wasn’t in the mood to go the extra step tonight. Her long shifts were a godsend to her young neighbor, though. His mother had allergies and had never allowed him to have a pet. Spending time with Sally satisfied his need for that kind of bonding. Sally loved him, and Elaine was tremendously grateful. She’d be in a fix when Allen graduated high school and went off to college.
Well, she had two years to worry about that. Anything could happen in two years. This morning was proof that no one, even when it appeared that way to those around her, led a charmed life.
The microwave dinged, tugging her back to the present. She opened the door, and the pleasant smell of Lo Mein wafted around her. Her stomach rumbled. Oh yeah, she was definitely ready for some food. Though she was only having leftovers, alone at that, she went all out. Linen napkin, stemmed glass of Chardonnay and two lovely lit candles for a centerpiece.
The first bite hit her stomach like a lump of hot coal. Her stomach clenched, then cramped, kindling a fire that never really left her gut.
“Dammit.”
She grabbed the ever-present bottle of Maalox from the counter and took a hefty swig as she sank back into her chair.
A few minutes later she could eat in relative comfort. God, she was such a mess. The newest medicine her internist had prescribed was little or no help with the ulcer. And she wasn’t about to go in again complaining of continued pain and burning. She knew what came next and she wasn’t prepared to go there right now. Maybe they could just take care of her stomach ailments at the same time they gutted her pelvic cavity.
Another bout of emotion gripped her. She blinked away the moisture. Crying would accomplish nothing. She’d call Dr. Bramm’s office tomorrow and get the appointment with the specialist. Worrying about this latest problem was pointless until after she had all the facts.
The single chime of the front doorbell interrupted her self-counseling session. Sally sprang up from her lazy sprawl on the floor and barked a warning. Elaine blew out the candles and headed in that direction, she frowned as she glanced at the hall clock: 10:29. Who would be at her door at this time of night?
She’d have gotten a call if there’d been another murder or any other news pertinent to the case.
While Sally uttered a low growl, Elaine flipped on the outside light and checked the security peephole in her door. She relaxed when she saw Henshaw’s rumpled form, minus his usual stogie, on her porch. He always left it in his car when he came to her house. He insisted that he respected her personal space. Henshaw was truly one of a kind. She missed him already.
“It’s okay, girl. It’s just Henshaw.” She unbolted the door and drew it open wide. “Has something happened?” she asked by way of a greeting.
Henshaw quirked an eyebrow. “Is that it? No ‘Good evening’? No ‘Won’t you come in’?”
Elaine sighed. “Sorry.” She stepped back. “Good evening, partner. Please come in.” Sally wagged her tail, offering her own hello.
“At least the mutt’s glad to see me,” he muttered as he shuffled across the threshold. “By the way, you might want to call me Hank, since, officially, I’m not your partner at the moment.”
She rolled her eyes and closed the door behind him. “What’re you doing here at this time of night if nothing has happened?”
“I didn’t get my report finished before you left the office, so I thought I’d drop it by.”
She felt her eyes narrow in suspicion. She knew better than that. Henshaw might move like a tortoise, but his brain worked as speedily as any hare. “Don’t give me that. What’re you really doing here?”
He reached into his interior jacket pocket and produced the folded pages of the report. “Well, the truth is,” he began, offering the document to her, “I just wanted to see if you were doing okay.”
She placed the report on the hall table. “Callahan and I haven’t killed each other, if that’s what you mean.”
“Screw Callahan.” He looked straight at her. “I mean, are you okay? You seemed kind of preoccupied after your doctor’s appointment.”
Elaine tensed. “I’m fine. I was preoccupied. Entering a crime scene does that to me, you know.”
He nodded. “All I’m saying is, something isn’t right and I know it.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” she lied. “Now, if you want to come in and sit down, I’ll fix you a good stiff drink and I’ll tell you how much I hate working with Callahan.” She could definitely see a couple more glasses of wine in her future if she planned to get through the night.
“As interesting as it sounds, I’d better pass.” He looked sheepish. “The wife will have my hide if I don’t get home before midnight. I don’t want to get her riled up. Gotta help her keep that blood pressure down.” He fixed Elaine with that too-knowing gaze again. “You’re sure you’re okay.”
She smiled, warmed by the genuine affection in his tone. “I’m okay. With thirty looming only a couple of months away I think my body’s just getting a head start on falling apart.”
Concern marred his brow, reaching all the way down to his eyes. “Anything serious?”
“Nothing that can’t be taken care of,” she hedged. “I’m fine, really.”
He reached into his trouser pocket for his keys. “All right. I’ll let it go at that. Good night.” He turned to go. “And I’ll keep my mouth shut about Callahan. No point in stirring the stink.”
“Night,” she said as he opened the door. “Thanks for bringing by the report.” She leaned against the jamb when he hesitated on the porch. He wanted to say more, but for some reason felt reluctant. “This whole new-partner thing is temporary,” she reminded, just in case he was feeling out of sorts. “I can deal with it.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about on that score,” he called over his shoulder as he descended the steps.
She