"Harry made it special and we got the okay from the nurses." Verna plumped my pillow and opened the container of Thai Shrimp on the bed table.

"Oh, he shouldn't have."

"You don't mean that."

"No, I don't. Pull up a chair and have some."

Her hand gripped mine. "Hart, I really thought-"

"Hey, I told you I was invincible. By the way, what all is wrong with me anyway?"

"You have a concussion that requires plenty of rest and that means no work, no prolonged TV or computer screens. You'll need plenty of protein and very limited activity."

"You mean . . .?"

"I mean. Also, there are about fourteen stitches under that bandage on your arm from the window glass and the brace on your leg is to protect a cracked shin when you so heroically dove across the desk."

"How did you-?"

"That strange, walking Rorschach image with the high voice told me all about what happened."

"Tattoo. Yeah, he's something else. But what about the police and Nelly and Felicia?"

Verna perched close on the bed, took my fork and helped herself to a hunk of my shrimp.

"With Bennett's statement about you and the blackmail, Nelly and his lot were arrested for kidnapping and uttering death threats, as well, a considerable amount of drugs were found in the house and that just added to the charges."

"But the mayhem and the Druids?"

"Two of the bikers stayed behind and gave statements saying they had followed you because you were suspicious of trouble and had arrived in time to help."

"And they bought that? Why would the the police believe something like that?"

"It seems one of the bikers is actually an undercover narc working on finding out the Druids main supplier so yes, they bought it."

"You are pulling my leg."

"Absolutely not. No activity, remember?"

What next was there to make this the dizziest case I had ever worked? I tried to get my fork back and failed. "So they get off scot-free too?"

"What do you mean, too?"

"Me! I'm free."

"Not really, Hart." She ate another shrimp. "A Garth Meadows, sergeant of detectives I think he said, wants to question you about your confusing association with the Druids and someone named Desmond."

"Oh crap . . ."

"But your friend Tattoo mentioned that in exchange for you staying mum, he would let you lead Meadows to a substantial drug stash that you could claim you discovered while working the Smythe-Frye case."

"What, he's giving up his supply? This is just nuts"

"No, actually, he said they confiscated that and plenty more from DiGregorio's place before they took off. They left enough for the police to find."

So that was why Tattoo was so eager to get into Nelly's place . . . the drugs. I drooped back into my pillow and stared at her magnificent eyes. You couldn't write this stuff it was just too bizarre.

********

"Rick, my boy! I worried about you. How did the case go? Did you need the gun? You're limping! Was it trouble you had?"

"Okay, okay, Sammy you can tone down the concern. I brought this in to get my money back. I don't need a gun anymore."

"You want to pawn it?"

"No, I want to get my money back."

"Richard, Richard, it's a business I'm running here."

"But I didn't even use it! I even forgot to take it when I needed it most. All the bullets are there too."

"Business, Richard. You bought it." His shrug was so stereotypical I snorted.

"Fine, you want to be a hard nose. What'll you give me for it and the ammo?"

He examined it like he had never seen it before, hefted it, sighed and put it down.

"I can give you . . . fifty."

My head began to hurt. "Sammy, you charged me one and a quarter when I bought it!"

"It's business, Richard."

********

Meadows had his jacket off and I discovered he wore suspenders . . . red ones. I crossed my healing leg over the good one and sat waiting for him to begin. The docs had said I could take the interview but if it became stressful I was to stop. I'm sure Meadows would oblige a request like that, I noted as I watched him get settled.

"First, Hart, I want to know how you found four hundred thousand dollars worth of drugs you claim belonged to the late Carlos Desmond."

I thanked him for his concern for my health then went through an edited version of the necklace fiasco and arrived at the end with my fib that Carlos gave up the location to avoid being charged with the theft of a million dollar plus piece of jewellery. The Druids made a cameo appearance in my tale.

"Just like that."

"No, not just like that. It's just business, Sergeant." I had a flash of Sammy and the gun.

"Tough guy."

"Whatever it takes . . . within the law of course"

"And what did it take to get the Druids to suddenly want to protect Richard Hart? Keeping quiet about Desmond the post hole filler?"

I felt it was time to play the stress card. How or why I did business with the Druids was my business until Meadows learned otherwise. He glowered at me as I emoted and portrayed the injured victim then waved me out with a disgusting comment.

Against the advice from everyone, I went to my office and found the door unlocked. James Cord was seated in front of my desk.

"You're going to tell me the door was unlocked."

"Yes, it was. I thought you would be here."

I sat down staring at the door. "What do you want, I'm not supposed to be working."

"I want you to investigate Bennett for insurance fraud."

I frowned so hard my eyes crossed. "Are you kidding me?"

"He never told anyone you gave the necklace back to him and now he's putting in a formal claim."

"He made some deal with an auction house, James. I think your information is wrong."

"No. He and Mendelson, the president of the auction house, decided they could get more from an insurance claim and even splitting the money, Bennett would be ahead."

Visions of sugar plums . . . "What the- what are you saying? What about all the business with DiGregorio and the cops and- and everything?"

"The necklace never came up. The police just assumed the blackmail was for an amount of money and nobody corrected their assumption. Bennett is doing now what he originally intended. Pretend the necklace was stolen and cash in an insurance claim."

My head really began to hurt and I just wanted the damned necklace and everyone connected to it to vanish from my life.

"What the hell difference does it make to you, there's no drug money to be paid anymore? It's over, I can't help you. I'm not supposed to be working yet and frankly, I don't want-"

"We'll pay you the same retainer Bennett did."

Boing! "Wait . . . we? Who's we?"

"Deborah and I. We uh- we're leaving together."

"Leaving? Leaving what? You just said you wanted to hire me." Stress! Stress warning!

"All you have to do is prove Bennett still has the necklace. We," he waved a finger between us, "report the fraud to the insurance and collect a handsome reward for doing so."

I sat back and closed my eyes a moment. This had to be a dream- a bad one. I opened one eye and James was staring at me. He and Deborah were going to deep six Bennett's plan and grab a reward to finance their flight.

"And how do you know all this anyway?"

"Deborah overheard him on the phone with Arthur Mendelson."

Convenient. "I thought any chance of him making a claim was queered because you already started and stopped one."

"I think Mendelson has come up with some kind of reason through the auction house."

Explosions behind my eyes. My ears started ringing and I felt my mouth drop open. Had I heard right? Did I fall asleep and slip into some Kafkaesque nightmare? Was my injury more serious than they thought? I leaned forward again and aimed a shaking finger at him.

"Out, James. Out of my office and my life. You don't need me to report anything, you could do it yourself. This is just another wild scheme that I can't figure out yet and don't really want to."

"Hart listen to me. You gave it to him, you know he had it-"

"What does that prove? My word against Bennett Smythe-Frye's? You just said he had another plan."

"But what will I tell Deborah?"

"Excuse me!'Massive stress warning. I picked up my stapler and opened it, rising slowly from my chair. James scrambled from his seat and broke for the door, one last pleading look before fleeing a rain of ejected staples.

*******

"I can't thank you enough for letting me stay here, Verna. Sleeping at the office would have been a nightmare and those stairs and-"

"Meals and laundry."

"Yes, definitely. That too."

"Yes, well two weeks are enough, Hart." She collected some dirty dishes from her dining table and carted them out to the kitchen. "And turn to a news channel will you. Road Runner cartoons begin to pall."

"Has it really been two weeks?" No reply. Just the clank of dishes in the sink and the sound of running water. "I could help you with those."

"No, you can get out here and do them. I have other things to tend to like getting my place back to single occupancy."

An unsubtle verbal eviction notice. I hurried to the kitchen, missing a peck on her passing cheek and nearly poking my eye out on the corner of a cupboard.

"You have to admit, it was kind of fun staying together like this," I called after her, accepting the silence as a bashful agreement.

"Has Harry done okay without your regular hours?"

"You needn't shout, I'm right here." She grabbed a tea towel and began drying dishes. "He managed but with one arm it wasn't easy."

"It's still in a sling?"

"No. I'm his right arm."

I hung my head and stared at the soapy water. How did I deserve the friendship when I continually took advantage?

"Verna . . . I'm really so bloody grateful you have no idea. What you put up with . . ." I turned and fell into those eyes watching me. She flipped the towel around my neck and pulled me into a kiss that had me leaping over the moon. When it ended I was still treading water in those eyes.

"As long as there are Turkey wraps, Hart, you are welcome here any time."

"Does that mean-?"

"No. You are moving out and I am getting my routine back."

"Am I not a part of that routine?"

"Only until my furniture is back in place and your stuff is out of my closet."

"And then? And then . . .?"

Before she formed an answer she placed a finger over my lips and went to the TV. A fresh out of broadcasting school young man stood windblown on the street in front of the city court house reporting on the arrest and detention of Bennett Smythe-Frye, president of Smythe-Frye and Associates and Arthur Mendelson, President of Whitehouse Auctions on insurance fraud charges.

"Son-of-a-bitch!"

"Did you think all that fuss would end like this?" Verna retrieved the towel from my neck.

"I wonder if James and Deborah burned him after all."

"Keep wondering," she said, pointing at the screen where a shaken looking Felica was being led to a limo by Detective Sergeant Meadows.

"Oh come on! Felicia? What the hell could she have done?"

We watched the limo pull away from the curb and moments later two characters from Easy Rider pulled out to follow.

"Druids!"

"What do you think that means?" Verna gaped.

I reached over and switched off the TV. "You know what? I don't care and I don't want to know. My story with the family, the bikers, Nelly DiG and the cops is over. Period. Done. All I want to do now is rewind to that kiss in the kitchen."

"I could go a couple of Turkey wraps if you aren't- Hart" HART!"

It was amazing. The leg never complained a bit leaping down the stairs and the head was filled with fantasy instead of concussed pain as I bolted for the deli.

END

A/N: To all who read and hopefully enjoyed, thank you. The fun is in the pleasure others find in what I write and that is truly gratifying.