Storymania - Devil's Deal by Annacat

Devil's Deal (2)
Annacat

He paused for a moment and looked down in somewhat of a reverential manner that caught him by surprise. “I remember. Terrible. We never could get ahead of things. He came in with fulminant meningitis and had refractory seizures and despite antibiotics he arrested five hours after admission to the ICU and could not be resuscitated.”
“Thank you. That’s how she understood it. I told her it was rare but it can happen.”
“No problem. Obviously the information shared was with a physician with all the responsibility that implies.”
“Of course. Thank you for your help.” Pastor turned to walk away.
“Dr. Pastor can I please have you pull up the organism that ultimately grew out of the cerebrospinal fluid? I know it doesn’t matter but I am curious.”
“Sure give me a moment. It was Rosenthall right?”
It looked like Monday morning was going to happen after all.
“That can’t be correct,” muttered Pastor. “It says there are three organisms. E. Coli, Pseudomonas and Clostridia.”
“That would be stool.”
“I didn’t see this and can’t explain it.” Pastor’s surprise exonerated him. “I don’t have an explanation for this. There was nothing different we could have done. This must be a contaminant. But I did this tap myself and…I cannot understand this.”
“Okay thank you for your help.”
Pastor left and he stood with Carol. “Something’s wrong Carol.”
“He’s not a bad guy. He had an alcohol issue and almost lost his license. His wife divorced him and for a period of time he…”
“He didn’t do anything wrong. Impeccable care. But…”
“But what.”
“It doesn’t happen. Bruce Rosenthall had three organisms in cerebrospinal fluid that should be sterile. One organism is enough to kill you. Absent a reason to have a fistula between the colon and the spinal cord…”
“What are your saying?”
“No earthly idea. Just that something is wrong. But it’s a good start. Any chance I could find out who the nurse was?”
“Yep that I can do give me a moment.”
“If it makes you feel better that information is not protected.” He joked.
“Sarah Combs. She is on this shift. Give me a second.”
He waited and thought about what could have happened to Brucie. Theoretically a colonic cerebrospinal connection was possible however improbable. He had never seen or heard of one. But he did remember a patient lost in the ICU with a ventricular shunt who developed polymicrobial sepsis due to iatrogenic infection. And with that dread set in.
“Hi. I’m Sarah.”
“Sarah is there anyway we can talk about something you may not even remember.” She was pretty, in her late twenties and looked like it had been a long day.
“What are we talking about?”
“A friend of mine Bruce Rosenthalls he had…”
“Meet me at Ships Pub at 9:30.” And she turned and walked away.
“Carol what just happened?”
“Nothing she’s probably just busy. It’s already an hour past when she should be off shift. Do you know how to get to Ship’s?”
“Across the street right. I’m surprised it’s still there.”
“Yup. Good to see you again. You look good for a dead guy.”
“Thanks Carol. I mean thank you for you help. You have no idea.” He looked at his watch and was just after nine. Not bad. In twenty minutes he got more information than he wanted and had a date with a pretty girl.

Chapter 6

Ships Pub was exactly how he remembered it. He had been there many times in high school and in those days it was the preferred underage hangout for the affluent Loudonville crowd admixed with the nurses from Memorial across the street. Not one of his favorite places but it did have its charms. He sat at the bar, which was beginning to fill with the second shift from the hospital and ordered a double scotch. He was still looking around when a hand tapped him on the shoulder.
“Hi. I’m Sarah.” She was much less harried and seemed to be friendly.
“Hi Sarah. Bill Prewitt. Let me buy you a drink.”
“Now you’re talking. I’ll have a white Russian.” She got on the stool next to him and pulled it closer. “You wanted to ask me something and before I answer I need to know why.” She downed half of the drink with her first attempt.
“Bruce Rosenthals was a friend of mine who died recently and I’m trying to explain things to his wife…”
“Yeah right. Listen if this is about a lawsuit I’ve got nothing to say. Dr. Pastor has his faults but I love the guy. He did everything right. He has some demons but don’t we all.” The white Russian was no more.
“We’ll have another round.”
“However bad it was for him even when he was drinking he was always a gentleman, he just cares too much…”
“This is nothing about Dr. Pastor or the medical care. Come to think of it you tell me why we’re here. If there wasn’t something you wanted to get off your chest we wouldn’t be here now would we.” Number two never had a chance.
“One more?” She nodded.
“Okay here it is. Busy Friday night and we were full with the usual bullshit.” It seemed that the alcohol changed her vocabulary a bit. “We get an EMS call about a guy in a hotel room with seizures. So Dr. Paston instructs them to give Valium and on route everything supposedly is okay. But when he arrives it’s not right. He’s burning up and starts seizing and he’s delirious.” Turns out delirious is a hard word into the third russkie but she is really into the story now. “So Paston says right away he has meningitis or a brain bleed orders a CT scan, gives antibiotics and after the CT is back I set him up for a lumbar puncture. So he preps the area and it starts bleeding. From a needle mark right where he wanted to do the LP. He already had one somewhere. He couldn’t tell us we just figured someplace fucked up and now this guys is dead. Somebody fucked up.”
“Did Paston see what you saw.”
“Yup. But no way is he going there, too many demons. Not worth taking the chance.” She was clearly intoxicated now and the distinct slur of her speech refuted any notion that she was an experienced drinker.
“And tha rest is fuckin history. One more great day on the job. On the bright side I think you might get laid tonight. I’ve gotta go to the ladies room.” She staggered of and it took every ounce of adulthood to do the right thing.
“Look my friend is going to need a taxi home. Here’s a hundred. Can I trust you to take care of it.”
“Won’t be the first time. I’ve got it thanks.” He left and drove away while reason still had some grip on him. Monday was no longer an option.

Chapter 7

Somewhere in the depths of a scotch induced sleep there was a poorly conserved eight-millimeter movie of two teenagers chasing each other drunkenly on a beach and falling into the water caressing and kissing. And then before the happy ending the morning interrupted. He rubbed his face and held his temples and tried to digest the events of last night. He smiled at the thought that maybe Jimmie wasn’t using after all and shuttered at the implication for himself. Okay so this quite likely was a problem but with what possible solution? A deer walking in the forest during hunting season may recognize an unfortunate situation that is not solvable. He felt like that deer. Another breakfast at Dapper’s as he drove to arrive at the appointed hour to report to Jimmie that maybe he wasn’t crazy and it was too complicated to explain why.
“All right what did you find out? Not a nutball after all right?”
“Still a nutball but you have my attention. Brucie was probably murdered in a most inventive way. Why would that be Jimmie?”
“I have no idea.”
“Well than I’ll head back to LA. It’s probably safer there and I can’t do anything else here.”
“All right I’ve got a little idea but nothing fits.”
“Oh my God the ghost returns.” The subject of his dream descended the stairs looking as beautiful as he remembered.
“Lisa it’s so good to see you. You look great.”
“Easy Fido they do have women in California I hear.” The conversation concealed the depravity of the situation.
“Did you hear about Rusty. It’s so terrible. His mother is broken and I’m going there every day but I don’t think she is going to get through this.” There were tears in her eyes.
“Lees we have to get some fresh air. We’ll be back.” They left and took the familiar walk to the river break.
“Okay so what was that all about?”
“She can’t know anything about this. She doesn’t know anything about this. She doesn’t even know Bruce.”
“You said you saw Bruce the day before he died. She didn’t know who Bruce was?”
“Nope that was business. Bruce was doing a project for me. Nothing social. Nothing she would know about.”
“So Bruce was your accountant. Why wouldn’t she know that; I mean you’re not exactly the brains behind the business Jim.”
“A different thing. A different thing. Unrelated.”
“Okay so you have this thing, this professional thing with Bruce. Bruce who is an accountant but not the accountant for the only business you own. Jimmie one of us has some brains. You tell me what’s the deal here or I’m going back. Besides what the hell can I do to figure things out? You need to call the police.”
“No fuckin way. No police.”
“Well then what do you have in mind? How do you think you are going to figure this out and what are you planning when you do?”
“It’s one of us there that night.”
“Who’s left?”
“Bobby.”
“I thought he died in Iraq.”
“He did but just his noggin. Remember how he was always a little different. Well now he is pharmacologically controllably different. He lives in a trailer in Malta and the VA keeps him sedated or so I thought. It’s got to be him. Maybe flashbacks and shit put him over the edge. We gotta get back I don’t trust the morning animals with Lisa.”
They walked into the bar and sat down. Jimmie walked over to a man and brought him back to the table. “Stony Winter this is Bill I mean Dr. Bill Prewitt. Old friends. Bill, Stony is the sheriff around these parts and a valuable customer.
“Nice to meet you Stony.”
“Same doc. Where ya hale from.”
“Originally here but I’ve been in San Diego for the last twenty plus years.”
“You guys friends from high school?”
“Yes.”
“Then you know about this Rusty thing?”
“Only what Jimmie has told me. I don’t know him well but it doesn’t sound like anything Rusty would do.”
“That’s what everybody says. Small town for a murder but I came from a small town and it happens.”
“Where are you from.”
“Still Creek Mississippi. Moved here five years back to escape the warm winters.” All laughed. “How about a beer James. It’s happy hour some damn where and I’m not on the clock for another couple minutes at least.” The three of them drank the draft empty in short order and Stoney stood up to leave. “It was right nice to make you’re acquaintance Doctor Bill and I’m hopin I won’t be needing your services anytime soon.”
“Same Stoney.” After he left the obvious question was posed. “So you’re friends with the local sheriff and three of your friends get whacked and you call me?”
“What am I gonna tell ‘em genius. The truth?”
“Just what he needs to know about things? One person tells him just enough and nobody else knows.”
“If everybody who knows is dead maybe that works. Don’t you get it? I know and whoever’s doing this think you know it all. Don’t kid yourself. We need to go see Bobby. He’s gotta be the one. But we need to have some protection. I’ve got a gun for the bar and we’ll bring my shotgun in the trunk.”
“Easy Rambo I’m not shooting anyone.”
“Well good because I’m not planning on getting shot.”
Lisa came over with coffee for both of them. “How about a coffee chaser for that morning beer. Things haven’t changed much I see.”
She was beautiful and he remembered her well. She would easily be Mrs. Prewitt if he wasn’t already attached at the time and then an untried felon and she was dating his best friend. But that secret on the beach was one they both shared though the years and not something he would donate to time or friendship.
“So after twenty years what brings the ghost back? Not that I’m not happy to see you and I do appreciate what you have done for us. We’re through that now.” She shoved Jimmy’s shoulder and smiled.
“Just time to come back and take a look around. I have some time coming and I am selling the practice and in a couple of years I’ll probably be relocating. Maybe you can come back home.” He was uncomfortable with the small talk because he was accustomed to the truth.
“Sure just hang up a shingle. This place is still populated by Neanderthals who need a doctor but only after they pay their bar tab.” They all laughed and in the first time in twenty years he felt at home with friends.
“I know we have thanked you for your help when Jimmy had his problems…”
“Yes you did and it is over.”
“But we owe you interest and you own half of this place. I think that we should work out the details.”
“I agreed to rectify the debt for 49% ownership and I have placed all of the profit into the account which has more than covered my loan. I would like to sell my shares back for let’s say for one dollar and lifetime free bar service.”
Jimmy couldn’t let that go. “I think we should run that by the accountant Lees.”
“No we want to make it right. We wouldn’t own this place if it wasn’t for what you did. I, we need to make this correct. It’s part of our promise to ourselves and a thank you may be enough for you but we need to be totally honest or else everything we have worked for goes away.” She was pretty animated and glared at Jimmy.
“Let your accountant figure it out and I’ll sell all my shares back at the minimum price he can come up with.”
“The fair price,” she insisted.
She had come a long way from high school. She was scared of being alone and latched onto Jimmy who was larger than life and went along for the ride down the avalanche of drugs and late nights until their only means of survival was threatened. She took control of the business, reached out for his loan and told Jimmy to choose between drugs and marriage. Jimmy just wasn’t as stupid as he thought and beat back the demons he had so readily befriended. When he made the loan and purchased half the business he never expected to see that money but in the back of his mind there was that other thing and keeping Jimmy afloat was worth the money. He just was surprised it worked.
“So tell us about your life in California. Not married I see. You could tell us if you’re gay you know; she new different.
“Not gay. Not married. Working more than I want to and getting ready to change that.” He preferred short answers.
“Whatever happened to Laura? You guys were joined at the hip and then you’re gone? I don’t get it.”
“It just didn’t work out. Last I heard she was living in Virginia with three kids. But that was years ago,” he lied. The last time he saw her ten years ago was from his car outside her house in a nice suburb of Chicago. He had gone there attending a medical conference but wanted to make one last thing right. He intended to tell her the truth, all of it and then saw her three girls herded into the house and realized he had no business ruining things a second time and simply drove away. He had made that decision a long time ago and there was no going back.
“Just surprised a good looking doctor in LA isn’t beating them off with a stick.” She meant well but it was getting on his nerves.
“San Diego and I must be pretty adept with that stick.”
“Okay I get it. So what are your plans, how long are you staying…”
“Just a couple of days and then back.”
She got up from the table and took both of their empty cups. “Come by for dinner tonight; around six thirty or so. No one gets to the bar before shift change at seven thirty so it’s pretty dead then.”
“Sure sounds great. I’ll bring the wine.” And they all laughed.
“Yeah I’ll meet you at Coccos at ten.”
“Okay I cold use a shower.” And some time to think.
Chapter 8.

The car pulled up at ten fifteen and he got in. Jimmy was dressed all in black with black gloves.
“Nice outfit.”
“Thanks. Its slimming don’t you think?”
“Are you going to do something stupid today or did you just dress for it?”
“Well doc you should know its better to get away with something stupid then vice versa. I’m not planning anything. If I had something planned I wouldn’t dress like I didn’t have something planned.”
“So that would make the golf shirt and khakis a little out of place. Not to worry I left all my hit man clothes at home.”
“Relax I’m just prepared for the worse. It doesn’t mean I want it. Last I heard Bobby is pretty scary these days.”
“Guy was pretty scary twenty years ago. ‘Spaceman’ never seemed quite all there but he had a great left handed curveball and anybody who caught him said they never saw two pitches that looked quite alike. Combine that with a pretty good heater, a crazy smile and the fact that he was talking to himself throughout and you had a pretty tough competitor. He flashed back to Watervliet playing first base and meeting Glendenon and Keefe on the mound with the bases loaded and one out.
Glendenon said to Jonesy. “You alright.”
“Never better. Not tired at all.”
“That’s not what I meant. Why are you talking to yourself? You frustrated?”
“Just bored. Nobody else out here to talk to.”
“Huh.”
“Yup.”
“Can I ask what you were talking about?” Glendenon was staring right into his eyes. This boy must be on something.
“How I was planning on striking this motherfucker out. And how many different ways I could do it. But I want it to be memorable this being my last season and all.”
“You do know that the bases are loaded and we are one run up and don’t get to hit again and any passed ball ties this up.”
“Yup.”
The catcher Don Keefe who rarely said an intelligent syllable chimed in. “Will we be using signs?”
“Sure do what you want just catch the ball.”
“Christ,” muttered Keef; Spaceman at his best. Balls curving and tailing from a lefty who threw what karma told him. It was more like playing goalie.
The first pitch was a sweeping curve that dropped three feet onto the outside corner. The second pitch was a tailing fastball off the outside corner, which drew a feeble half swing. The third pitch was something I will only describe as a side hand knuckleball which made the batter dive for cover before smacking Keefe right in the middle of his chest somehow even eluding his glove. Keef picked up the ball and tagged the batter in the box still on his knees. Spaceman looked at Keef “Catch the fucking ball.” This while everybody is going nuts celebrating the biggest win of the season. The saying about Bobby wasn’t “a screw is loose” it was “there are no screws.”
“So what do you know about him now. Why do you think he’s the guy?”
“Well crazy as a loon, fucked over by the war, screwed by the VA and on enough tranquilizers to kill a rhino I thought it was a good guess.”
“I might add I still don’t know that there is a killing spree. I still don’t know why I am here.”
“So you think I might kill you. Just kidding. I would have left you in Oblivious, California if it was just me. Trust me you were taken care of for many years for the right reasons and that hasn’t changed.”
“So there is something else.”
“Yeah. Something else but not your concern and better you don’t know.”
“What else?” Jimmy traced his finger across his lips. “Just like twenty years ago this is for the best.”

Go to part: 1 2