Dave Zeltserman - Bad Karma

“A couple of geniuses we are,” she said. “Let ourselves be banged up and shot at by a couple of dumb thugs.”

Shannon couldn’t disagree with her. That night he had the nurse disconnect his morphine drip. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” she tried telling him. “It’s too early for this.” Shannon told her he wanted to wean himself off of it sooner rather than later. He had a mostly restless night, but was able to doze off for several hours.

Pauline Cousins called him on his cell phone the next morning. She seemed genuinely surprised to hear that he was in the hospital. “Nobody I’ve been talking to at the Boulder Police mentioned a word to me about it,” she said. “I would’ve called you sooner but I’ve been running around like crazy the last two days trying to arrange for Melissa’s transfer.”

She stopped by shortly after her call, her face melting into a sad smile when she saw Shannon bandaged up. “I owe you so much for what you did for Melissa,” she told him. She took out her checkbook and asked how much he wanted. Shannon shook his head, told her that one of the perks of working for himself was being able to take on certain cases pro bono. “Besides, what happened at True Light intersected with another case which I’m being well paid for.” Pauline stood her ground, insisting that she pay him something, and Shannon suggested she could contribute to a fund for families of police officers killed in the line of duty that he’d set up in Joe DiGrazia’s memory. Without blinking an eye she wrote out a check for ten thousand dollars. On her way out she kissed Shannon on the cheek and told Susan that she had a good man.

“Don’t I know it,” Susan said.

After she left, Shannon realized he owed Devens a call. The lawyer seemed surprised to hear what Shannon was telling him. “There’s been nothing in the news about it,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Better than okay,” Shannon said, laughing sourly. “Already been pumped up with a fresh supply of blood and should be getting a new shoulder out of the deal.”

Devens’ voice sounded strained as he told Shannon he’d stop by at the hospital and talk further with him. “But that’s it, huh?” he asked. “The police are going to arrest this cult leader for the Carver-Gibson murders?”

“That’s what it sounds like.”

When he got off the phone, he lay brooding. Susan sensed his uneasiness. She kissed him hard on the mouth and told him she’d be back soon. While he waited Devens came by. The lawyer grimaced seeing him. “Christ, you look like hell,” he said, shaking hands with Shannon’s left undamaged one.

“Hearing compliments like that does wonders for one spirits.”

“I’m sure it does.” Devens pulled up a chair. “I talked with my assistant DA friend. They’re planning to give a press conference Friday night to fill in the media on what’s been going on at that cult. They’re going to leave Carver and Gibson out of it for the time being. As long as this Anil Paveeth is cooperating with them they want to give the illusion of not trying to tie him to the murders, but they do plan on charging him soon. This should put a stake in the heart of that lawsuit.” Devens took his wallet out and handed Shannon a check. It was for twenty-five thousand dollars. “I’ve explained the situation to my client and everything that you’ve done. He wants to pay you this as a bonus. This suit could’ve wiped him out, and anyway, the twenty-five grand was what he was expecting to pay in legal costs if this went to trial. At least it should help while you’re rehabbing.” Devens took a small gift-wrapped box out of his briefcase and left it on the table next to the bed. “A small gesture from me.”

The lawyer left. Shannon couldn’t help feeling a sense of uneasiness, as if something wasn’t quite right. He looked at the gift-wrapped box Devens had left behind. Even something as simple as opening that box was beyond his current capabilities, but he knew that wasn’t what was behind his uneasiness. He wasn’t feeling sorry for himself. There was something else nagging at him. Something that didn’t quite fit with this Carver-Gibson-Paveeth puzzle.

Susan came back a short time later with a big grin across her face. Accompanying her was Eddie with his chess set. Eddie gave him a quick look up and down and asked what happened to his shoulder.

“I got shot.”

“By that cult you were asking about?”

“Yeah.”

“You on painkillers now?”

“Nope, off of them.”

“Good, you got no excuses then if you lose.”

They played five games with Shannon winning the first four, and the fifth ending in a draw. Eddie was beaming after the fifth game, taking the draw as a moral victory. After the games, Shannon told Eddie that the girl he’d been looking for was probably dead. “I’ll get a picture and see if you can ID her, but I think they caught up to her.” Eddie’s face darkened as he took in the news. “Boulder’s not the same town it used to be,” he said.

After Eddie left, Susan unwrapped the box Devens had left behind. It was one of his Navajo storytellers. Shannon couldn’t get over the feeling that the clay figurine was trying to tell him something.

Wednesday morning Shannon decided it was time to leave the hospital. Susan tried arguing with him that three days was too soon. “Hon, they want you here three weeks!”

Shannon was insistent, though-partly because of his uneasiness, but mostly because he didn’t want Susan cooped up in that hospital room any longer, and she wasn’t going to leave as long as he was there. One of the doctors tried to persuade him to stay longer, saw it was useless and instead worked out an arrangement for Shannon to come in each day to have his shoulder examined and his dressing changed. The doctor wrote him a prescription for Oxycontin, which Shannon tossed into the garbage on his way out.

Daniels escorted Shannon to the interrogation room. Sitting around the table was Anil Paveeth, his lawyer, the DA of Boulder County and a couple of men who Shannon assumed were FBI. Paveeth with his bruised face and jail-issued denim clothing looked small sitting there and had lost all traces of the aura he’d had when Shannon first saw him in his private sanctuary. He also had the look of every scared con who was trying to cut himself a deal. When the ex-cult leader recognized Shannon he started to nod as if the two of them were close friends. Daniels asked his lawyer whether he had any problem with Shannon sitting in. The lawyer traded a few whispers with his client, then said it was okay with them. Daniels shook his head sadly at Paveeth, and said, “Anil, I know you’re saying that you want to cooperate, but I don’t think you’re being completely honest with us.”

“Where have I not been honest? I have told you everything I know.”

Daniels gave him a hard stare, then ignored him and signaled for the DA and FBI agents to join him outside, leaving Shannon alone with Paveeth and his lawyer.

Paveeth sat fidgeting in his chair, scratching himself as if he had fleas. He realized that and folded his hands in his lap. He tried smiling at Shannon. “I-I’m sorry about that woman,” he said, his eyes hopeful as if he were expecting Shannon to say something to let him off the hook for what had happened. When Shannon didn’t respond, Paveeth wilted more in his chair but went on, “There was nothing I could do to help her. Yuri and Dmitry demanded that I videotape what they were doing. I was helpless to go against them. If I did they would have killed me.”

“That would’ve been a shame. What were Yuri and Dmitry’s last names?”

Paveeth smiled apologetically. “I don’t know. I was never told that. Taylor found them.”