Mike Faricy - Russian Roulette

“I’ll live, I think.”

“Okay, I gotta run,” she said into her phone, then turned to me. “I was just gonna leave you a note. I made you some breakfast, well I mean there’s a jug of Minute Maid in the fridge and some yogurt. I walked up to the bakery and got some caramel rolls but I already ate mine. I did make some coffee. I think there’s a little left. You want a cup?”

“No, you’ve done more than enough. Thanks, Heidi, really nice of you. I appreciate your help.”

“Yeah, well I’m taking a rain check on last night, deal?”

“Deal.”

“Okay,” she said standing up and giving me a light kiss on the forehead. “You look a little the worse for wear. Take it easy for the next couple of days. I’ll call just to check in later on, okay?”

“Thanks, yeah I’d appreciate the call.”

“Okay, bye-bye.”

She threw her purse over her shoulder and headed for the front door.

She’d left me the better part of a cup of coffee, which I drank. I ate the caramel roll in about two bites and decided I could walk the block up to Bon Vie and see if my new favorite waitress was working today. Find out what she could tell me about yesterday’s events.

Her nametag identified her as Madeline, like the little girl in Paris in the Ludwig Bemelmans books. At the moment I was the only customer in the place so I took a long moment to appraise her from head to toe. I didn’t recall her looking as attractive as she did today. When she saw me she glanced frantically from side to side, as if my sudden appearance had somehow cut off any escape.

“I already told the police everything I know,” she stammered, backing up slightly as she spoke.

“Yeah, I know, they told me. I just wanted to thank you and hope it wasn’t too traumatic. I didn’t mean to scare away any customers, that’s all,” I said, attempting to calm her down with a casual chuckle.

“Maddie, is everything all… oh, you, we don’t want any trouble.” The heavyset hostess. She was wearing large glasses, and carried a stack of menus. She looked me up and down. The large black frames were severely pointed and emblazoned with rhinestones. The lenses were thick enough to magnify her eyes, which at the moment looked a decided icy blue.

“Hello, I’m Devlin Haskell. I was in here yesterday,” I said extending my hand.

“Humph, you certainly were. You absolutely ruined our lunch-hour trade. Not to mention the fact a table of three just up and left without paying. Couldn’t wait to get out of here. I doubt we’ll ever see them again. Then there’s the matter of the front sidewalk.”

“The sidewalk?”

“How could you miss it?” she motioned me to the front window, a gigantic pane of glass about ten feet tall. She stood facing the street and gestured with her chins.

“We’ll never get the stain completely out of the sidewalk. I’ve had Arturo out there scrubbing for hours. He even used straight bleach. Nothing worked,” she frowned in my direction.

“You know, I’m terribly sorry about that. Next time I have someone shoot me in the head I’ll make sure they do it on the lawn.”

I think I caught a smile from Madeline out of the corner of my eye.

“What? Well, you don’t look the worse for wear. Cup of coffee? I’m Amy by the way, I own this place,” she said, still not smiling. I’d have to work my magic to win her over.

“Yeah, I’d love one. Actually, I’m trying to piece together what happened. I really don’t remember anything other than leaving the restaurant, squinting into the sun, and the next thing I know I’m in the hospital.”

“Oh for God’s sake,” Amy grunted, then took three steaming mugs in one hand and waddled back to a table close to the open kitchen. A large black man, sporting dreadlocks and dressed in kitchen whites was rapidly preparing items on a tray. The chair seemed to groan beneath her weight as she oozed into it.

“Did you see anything?” I asked, nodding thanks as she pushed a coffee mug in my direction.

Madeline sat down across from me. I noticed she had dark brown eyes and a nose that wasn’t petite, but was somehow sexy with her high cheekbones. There was a tiny scar on the left side of her chin, maybe a stitch or two as a child. Her skin color was what could be called Mediterranean, with thick eyebrows and long eyelashes that…

“… down on the sidewalk. Hey, yoo-hoo, are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, of course, but tell me that again,” I said, back in reality.

Amy’s frown was back, followed by a sigh of frustration. “As I just said, one of our customers screeched something like oh God. The next thing I know you’re down on the sidewalk. That little honey of yours hightailed it up the street and around the corner. I haven’t seen someone move that fast in a long time. Maddie, you saw everything, didn’t you?”

Madeline nodded then sipped her coffee so she wouldn’t have to speak.

“Tell him,” Amy grunted.

Madeline turned to face me, looked down at her hands a moment as if collecting her thoughts, then raised her head and focused her gorgeous brown eyes on me.

“Well, you were standing right out front, with your back to the street. Your girlfriend was…”

“She’s a business associate, a client actually.”

Amy harrumphed.

Madeline nodded, then continued.

“Anyway, your back was sort of halfway to the street. I was clearing a table, actually that one up there,” she pointed to a table set for four directly in front of the window overlooking the blood-stained sidewalk.

“I remember watching this car, it was going real slow, and I thought the person was on a cell phone, talking, not paying attention to their driving. Then you kinda turn toward the car, there’s this sort of commotion, and all of a sudden you’re on the sidewalk, not moving. Your, ahh, client took off running up the block. I remember she held her purse like it was a football.”

“Did you hear a shot?”

“No, nothing,” Madeline said, then sipped some more coffee.

“Triple-pane window, thank god it wasn’t damaged, cost me a small fortune,” Amy interjected.

“Which way was the car going?”

“This side of the street, toward downtown.”

“Did you see the driver?”

“Sort of, I mean, just a person. I wasn’t paying that kind of attention. I’m not even sure if it was a man or a woman.”

“Was there a passenger?”

“I don’t think so, but I really can’t be sure.”

“Do you remember what the car looked like?”

“Not really. I don’t know cars, maybe it was black, seemed nice, newer.”

“Could it have been dark blue?” I asked.

“Well yeah, I guess, maybe, I can’t say for sure. I just wasn’t really watching. Don’t you remember anything?”

“No, at least I don’t remember much. I was squinting into the sun, and then I guess I was pushing Kerri out of the way or turning or something. As you’re telling me this I sort of have a hazy vision of her going wide-eyed, I just can’t remember. I honestly don’t know except that all of a sudden there was blood everywhere. Next thing I know I’m waking up in the hospital.”

“Pushing her out of the way? Well no, actually now that you mention it, she sort of jumped and pulled you. In fact for half a second I thought she maybe hit you or something but she pulled you, yeah definitely. She sort of pulled you in front of her.”

“You mean I didn’t push her out of the way? Save her?”

“Well, how could you? I mean your back was to the street, you had no idea anything was going to happen, then you turn around, right? Now, she’s behind you. No, she sort of pulled you in front of her, maybe, sort of like a shield or something, you know?” She shrugged her shoulders as if she was sorry to give me the bad news. I wasn’t a noble hero, just some dunce who essentially got thrown under the bus.