The Nitrogen Murder(29)
I couldn’t wait for the fog to roll in.
We skipped the idea of sitting in an un-air-conditioned coffee shop and drove directly from the linen lady’s shop to Elaine’s. I headed straight for the pitcher of iced coffee in the refrigerator and poured us each a glass.
Elaine’s answering machine was blinking 4. The first call, from a colleague at work, annoyed her.
“Elaine, this is Dave Hamill. I need to talk to you about some of the edits you made to my input for the annual report. I don’t think we need to spell out those acronyms. Everyone who reads this will know what they stand for. If they don’t they should be taken off the distribution list. Anyway, call me back …”
“Typical,” Elaine said. “I’m on vacation,” she shouted to the machine, giving the NEXT button a sharp push.
Dana called to say thank you for the massage, claiming to be totally looking forward to it and to being so not ready to just go back to work.
Two messages were for me, from Revere. Elaine and I stared at the machine as we heard Rose, in a panic over an explosion. Someone had planted a bomb under a hearse belonging to O’Neal’s Funeral Home in. Chelsea.
“It’s terrible,” she said. “At least the vehicle was empty, but these people will stop at nothing, and I just know we’re next. Frank and Robert are with the police now, to see if there’s anything preventive we can do.” A big sigh. “Well, I’m sorry to be always bringing bad news. I’m sure everything there is rosy and beautiful and I wish I were there, or you were here, not that I’d want you to miss the wedding …”
Rose rambled for a few more seconds. Ordinarily I would have called her back immediately upon hearing something so dramatic as an exploding hearse in my hometown. But the next message on Elaine’s machine precluded that.
It was from Andrea, and it caused an explosion between Elaine and me.
CHAPTER TEN
Dana plunked down on a comfortable chair in Dr. Ann Barnett’s waiting room. The office was in a modern building by the bay, the decor a welcoming pale green with soft lighting and ferns that were the healthy version of what hung in her house. A big improvement over Julia Strega’s industrial digs. Not for the first time, Dana wished Valley Med would spring for an upgrade to the EMT lounge.
Matt arrived a few minutes after Dana. HAVE A SUPPORTER ACCOMPANY YOU TO THE SESSION, TO BE THERE FOR YOU WHEN THE SESSION IS OVER, the pamphlet said, in deep blue. No one had asked her, “Why Matt, whom you’ve known all of two days?” But she knew everyone was wondering, why not Dad, or Elaine, or one of her EMT friends?
For one thing, Matt was also an ES worker, in a sense, but not another Valley Med employee. His telling her about his own CI when he was a rookie had moved Dana. Matt had been so open, though he’d just met her, and she knew he was sincere, not playing a game to make her feel better.
Also—and she had to admit this was a big factor—in a couple of weeks, Matt would be three thousand miles away, unable to embarrass Dana or remind her of this ordeal.
They greeted each other with a hug, like old friends or father and daughter. Dana inhaled deeply and relaxed as Matt took a seat across from her.
“I’m really glad you could come, Matt. I know you must have a gazillion things to do with Elaine and Gloria.”
Matt crossed one leg over the other. Short legs, Dana noticed, compared to most of the men in her life. “Think about it. Would I rather be helping them choose shades of lipstick?”
“Dana got it.”No, but you could be wine tasting. The famous Napa Valley’s not that far away.”
“I don’t drink alcohol. So, you see, this is a real break for me.”
Dana smiled, grateful he was making this so easy for her.
The waiting room seemed unnaturally quiet. Not just because there were no other patients. It was as if the building were wrapped in a huge emergency kit blanket insulating it from outside noises like traffic or barking dogs. No piped-in music, either, or blaring TV, though there was a small set high in one corner of the room.
Dana drew a long breath. “Can I tell you something?” she asked, almost whispering.
Matt opened his palms. Anything.
“I wish I’d been able to kill the guy who shot Tanisha.”
“You’d be feeling a lot worse right now, believe me.”
Dana sat back. She knew he was right, that he spoke from experience; she couldn’t figure why she’d even needed to hear it and was amazed she’d expressed herself out loud. She looked around the room as if she might find a device that brought out secret thoughts. She saw only warm landscapes in simple wooden frames, a magazine rack, large lamps with ceramic bases, and the door to the doctor’s office.