Брайан Фриман - Alter Ego

“Yes, she’s worried sick about you. It’s sweet. I had a hard time convincing her that she didn’t need to come up here with me to drag you back to Florida. Winter is a terrible thing. How can people live in this icebox? It’s like the whole world is in hibernation. How I miss the palm trees.”

Cab sighed and studied the gray sky outside the hospital window. “You know, Mother, I feel guilty imposing on your time. If Lala’s willing to stay with me, that’s probably best. We have kind of a rhythm together.”

Tarla shook her head. She sat down beside the bed and grabbed a Starbucks Frappuccino from the metal tray where his hospital lunch sat untouched. She sucked on the drink through a straw. “Nonsense. I’ve cleared my calendar for you. Besides, all you and Wawa ever do is argue. That’s the last thing you need right now.”

“Because you and I never argue?” Cab asked.

“You argue, darling. I rise above it.”

Cab looked for the morphine drip, but the nurses had removed it. He had a headache, but he couldn’t blame it entirely on the concussion now that Tarla was here. He’d broken his left wrist in the fall after the explosion, and his back was a mass of cuts and bruises. Even so, he was impatient to get out and go home.

Tarla was right about one thing. He didn’t belong in Duluth.

“Where’s Maggie?” he asked.

“Your little China doll? I told her to go home and get some rest, since I have the situation handled. I promised her I would not leave your side. This is a very nice hospital, by the way. The doctors and nurses all love me. I’ve signed dozens of autographs.”

“Well, they’re probably mistaking you for Naomi Watts,” Cab said.

Tarla wagged her finger at him. “Wicked, wicked, wicked. I forgive you, but only because you’re injured.”

“And tired,” Cab added pointedly.

“Yes, of course; more sleep is what you need. Never fear, I will be right here when you wake up again.”

“I have no doubt.”

Cab closed his eyes. It took no time for him to fall sleep again. In his dreams, he was where he usually was, alone on the beach, watching the surf come and go in Naples. The waves were hypnotic. That went on for what felt like forever, but at some point Mo Casperson rose out of the water in front of him like a horrible mermaid. She pointed her gun at his head and said, “Bang.”

He started awake from that dream and had no idea what time it was, but he noticed that daylight had given way to night outside the window. Tarla was gone, at least for the moment. Maggie had taken her place in the chair by the bed, and she was digging into a bag for McDonald’s French fries.

“Hey,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“Sliced and diced.”

“Well, you are still the most handsome car bomb survivor I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you.”

“Your mother said to assure you she would be back momentarily.”

“What a relief,” Cab replied.

“I hear she’s going to be staying with you in Naples,” Maggie added with a snicker.

“So it seems.”

“She says Lala volunteered, too. You can’t go anywhere without attractive women around, can you?”

“That’s true. Present company included.”

“Very smooth,” Maggie replied. She shoved a French fry in his mouth, and he swallowed it.

“How are you ?” Cab asked.

“Indestructible. Which is more than can be said for my Avalanche. My insurance agent couldn’t believe it when I called him. I’m not exactly his favorite customer to begin with.”

“Did you find out who made the bomb?”

“We’re still following the trail. Mo made several calls to anonymous numbers. Security cams in my parking garage caught a van with stolen Wisconsin plates coming in overnight. That was probably when they planted it.”

“I haven’t had a chance to thank Stride for saving my life,” Cab said.

“Well, don’t,” she said with a grin. “It’ll just feed his ego. By the way, Tarla met Stride and pronounced him ‘tasty.’”

Cab shook his head. “That’s my mother.”

They were quiet for a while, sitting in the hospital room. Outside, it was snowing again, with the flakes landing and melting against the glass. He was beginning to wonder if it ever stopped snowing up here and if winter ever ended.

“My offer still stands,” he said. “About Florida. Come with me.”

“I’m flattered, but no. I’m a Minnesota girl. Besides, it looks like Lala wants back in your life.”

“She and I are always complicated. What about you? Did you tell Troy about the bomb?”

“Yes, and he was very sweet and very concerned. Actually, I had dinner with him and the girls last night. They’ve been bugging him about getting a dog for months, so I thought they might like to meet Lori Fulkerson’s Yorkshire terrier. He needs a new home. It was love at first sight.”

“Dinner,” Cab said. “That sounds promising.”

“It’s a start. I’m still not the marrying kind, but Troy says he’s okay with that for now.”

They heard a chorus of laughter from the hallway outside Cab’s room. He looked through the doorway to see Tarla taking a selfie with two of the nurses. “She’s back,” he said.

“I guess that’s my cue,” Maggie replied.

She stood up from the chair and looked down at him. They didn’t know what to say to each other. He’d always found that good-byes were more awkward when you knew what someone looked like naked.

“Better go get yourself a new Avalanche,” he said.

“Better go get yourself a new Corvette.”

“I’m not very good with endings. Will I see you again?”

“Oh, I’m pretty hard to get rid of,” Maggie assured him. “You never know where I’ll turn up.”

She bent down over the bed and gave Cab a kiss that smelled of perfume and French fries. It was soft and perfect and lasted a long time. She wiped her mouth with a little bit of embarrassment and then wiggled her fingers at him as she left the room.

“Was that Tarla Bolton ?” Aimee Bowe asked Serena, sounding starstruck. She pushed herself up with a painful effort and tried to see into the hospital corridor.

“Yes, that’s her,” Serena replied. “Her son is a detective. He was helping us make the case against Dean Casperson.”

“I’d love to meet her. She was one of my role models when I was getting started.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Serena said. “I don’t think Tarla is much of a wallflower.”

Aimee smiled from the bed, but just the effort of raising herself up had weakened her. The doctors were optimistic about her recovery, but she had a long way to go. She wasn’t leaving Duluth anytime soon. She’d undergone two surgeries since they’d rescued her from the cage, and the combination of bullet wounds and hypothermia had left her fragile. Serena also was concerned about emotional damage.

“Lori Fulkerson pled guilty to the assault on you,” Serena told her. “She gave a full confession about the earlier murders, too. She’ll be behind bars for the rest of her life.”

The news didn’t seem to give Aimee any comfort. “It sounds strange, but I feel a little sorry for her. No matter what she did.”

“A lot of us have bad childhoods,” Serena replied. “At some point, you have to decide for yourself who you really are. If you let it make you evil, that’s on you.”

Aimee nodded. “What about Dean?”

“The prosecutors say if he ever gets out of prison, he’ll be an old man. He won’t have a dime left from all the lawsuits. I hope you don’t feel sorry for him .”

“No.”

Serena nodded. “Me neither.”

“The only thing I wish about Dean is that I’d said something when I had the chance. I let him get away with it.”