Whiplash
Page 99
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Sherlock heard Mick coming back into the living room. She moaned and slowly opened her eyes to stare up at the young man who was sitting next to her, a roll of duct tape in his hand, studying her face.
She blinked and gave him a smile. "Mick? Is that you? What happened? Did I faint? Oh good, you stretched me out on the sofa. Thank you."
He froze. "You think you fainted?"
She frowned at him in confusion. "Didn't I? All I remember is you were telling me how you were an actor and then, well, I woke up here on the sofa. My head hurts a bit. Hey, I think it's low blood sugar. It's happened before, my blood sugar just bottoms out and down I go. Mick, thank you for making me comfortable."
"Isn't your blood sugar still low?"
"Well, yes, it is. There's usually a brief spike then it falls again. Do you think I could have a glass of juice? Or maybe a regular soda? It's got sugar in it, and that'll get me back to normal."
Mick called out, "Jane Ann, bring some orange juice in here. Agent Sherlock says it was low blood sugar that made her faint."
"What? Faint?"
"Yeah, she fainted. It's okay, really, just bring in the orange juice."
Sherlock's temple pounded where his fist had struck her. Her palms itched to flatten the jerk. She whispered, "Could you help me sit up, Mick?"
Automatically, he pulled her to a sitting position. "How do you feel?"
"A little woozy, but I'll be okay. Like I said, this has happened before."
"Jane Ann, where's the orange juice?"
"Just a minute."
Still, it was another couple of minutes before Jane Ann wrapped Sherlock's fingers around a glass. Sherlock smiled up at her. "Ah, orange juice. Thank you, Jane Ann." Sherlock drank down half a glass, then leaned her head back, closed her eyes. "Thank you both. This doesn't happen often, but when it does, I'm down and out for a minute. I'm very glad you had some orange juice. It acts really fast, and hey, it's better for you than soda."
Sherlock waited, opened her eyes again, and set the orange juice on the coffee table. She stretched and smiled at the two of them, both standing directly in front of her, both looking worried, both still a bit on the blurry side. She had a ferocious headache, but she wasn't about to tell them that. She hoped she looked nice and pale. She sure felt rotten enough.
They hadn't taken her SIG, it was still clipped to her belt.
She stuck out her hand toward Mick and he took it and pulled her to her feet. She held still a moment to make sure she had herself back together again. "Do you know, a couple of months ago, I was shot. They removed my spleen. I'm all well again, but sometimes, like now, where my spleen once resided, it aches. Isn't that strange? It aches now." And she massaged her side a moment, continuing to smile at the two of them. "Thank you both for taking care of me. Jane Ann, I'll see you when you get back with your sons. Mick, you're a great guy, I know you'll make it in Hollywood."
She walked away from them through the beautiful archway, breathing deeply, evenly, not hurrying. Once she was a good six feet away from them, she pulled out her SIG and turned to face them. "All right, you two, I hope you didn't have great plans for Caskie's money since you won't be able to touch it. It's called ill-gotten gains."
Mick's face went red with outrage. "You were playing us! You were making all that up! Low blood sugar? It was all an act?"
"Well, yes, I had to. You two did take good care of me. Thank you. You know, Mick, it's not all that difficult to shoot people if you have the high ground and two guns blasting away. Then again, you didn't want to hit either of us, did you? I mean you couldn't kill us since we were Jane Ann's perfect alibi. We wouldn't have been any use to her at all dead. Tell me, what did Caskie do when you walked in on him in the laundry room? Did he even know who you were? Before you shot him in the forehead, did you tell him you were his wife's lover? Did you tell him it wasn't personal, you just wanted his money?"
Mick was shaking his head, back and forth. "Listen, Agent Sherlock, I don't know what you're talking about. None of what you said is true. I didn't do anything."
"This grand plan of yours, you both took a huge risk but I guess you thought the payoff would be worth it. We could have so easily killed you, Mick, and for what? For money? That was a very bad decision you made, but you know, I don't think it was your idea.
"You came up with it, didn't you, Jane Ann? You thought it all through, decided to call me so I'd give you the perfect alibi. I can see it on your face. You set up the cold-blooded murder of your own husband. I'd hoped I was wrong, hoped it was Mick here who was the grand manipulator. But no, it couldn't have been Mick's idea, he's too young, too self-absorbed, and frankly, he's not bright enough. But you made sure he was in so far he couldn't get himself out when he discovered how you'd used him.
She blinked and gave him a smile. "Mick? Is that you? What happened? Did I faint? Oh good, you stretched me out on the sofa. Thank you."
He froze. "You think you fainted?"
She frowned at him in confusion. "Didn't I? All I remember is you were telling me how you were an actor and then, well, I woke up here on the sofa. My head hurts a bit. Hey, I think it's low blood sugar. It's happened before, my blood sugar just bottoms out and down I go. Mick, thank you for making me comfortable."
"Isn't your blood sugar still low?"
"Well, yes, it is. There's usually a brief spike then it falls again. Do you think I could have a glass of juice? Or maybe a regular soda? It's got sugar in it, and that'll get me back to normal."
Mick called out, "Jane Ann, bring some orange juice in here. Agent Sherlock says it was low blood sugar that made her faint."
"What? Faint?"
"Yeah, she fainted. It's okay, really, just bring in the orange juice."
Sherlock's temple pounded where his fist had struck her. Her palms itched to flatten the jerk. She whispered, "Could you help me sit up, Mick?"
Automatically, he pulled her to a sitting position. "How do you feel?"
"A little woozy, but I'll be okay. Like I said, this has happened before."
"Jane Ann, where's the orange juice?"
"Just a minute."
Still, it was another couple of minutes before Jane Ann wrapped Sherlock's fingers around a glass. Sherlock smiled up at her. "Ah, orange juice. Thank you, Jane Ann." Sherlock drank down half a glass, then leaned her head back, closed her eyes. "Thank you both. This doesn't happen often, but when it does, I'm down and out for a minute. I'm very glad you had some orange juice. It acts really fast, and hey, it's better for you than soda."
Sherlock waited, opened her eyes again, and set the orange juice on the coffee table. She stretched and smiled at the two of them, both standing directly in front of her, both looking worried, both still a bit on the blurry side. She had a ferocious headache, but she wasn't about to tell them that. She hoped she looked nice and pale. She sure felt rotten enough.
They hadn't taken her SIG, it was still clipped to her belt.
She stuck out her hand toward Mick and he took it and pulled her to her feet. She held still a moment to make sure she had herself back together again. "Do you know, a couple of months ago, I was shot. They removed my spleen. I'm all well again, but sometimes, like now, where my spleen once resided, it aches. Isn't that strange? It aches now." And she massaged her side a moment, continuing to smile at the two of them. "Thank you both for taking care of me. Jane Ann, I'll see you when you get back with your sons. Mick, you're a great guy, I know you'll make it in Hollywood."
She walked away from them through the beautiful archway, breathing deeply, evenly, not hurrying. Once she was a good six feet away from them, she pulled out her SIG and turned to face them. "All right, you two, I hope you didn't have great plans for Caskie's money since you won't be able to touch it. It's called ill-gotten gains."
Mick's face went red with outrage. "You were playing us! You were making all that up! Low blood sugar? It was all an act?"
"Well, yes, I had to. You two did take good care of me. Thank you. You know, Mick, it's not all that difficult to shoot people if you have the high ground and two guns blasting away. Then again, you didn't want to hit either of us, did you? I mean you couldn't kill us since we were Jane Ann's perfect alibi. We wouldn't have been any use to her at all dead. Tell me, what did Caskie do when you walked in on him in the laundry room? Did he even know who you were? Before you shot him in the forehead, did you tell him you were his wife's lover? Did you tell him it wasn't personal, you just wanted his money?"
Mick was shaking his head, back and forth. "Listen, Agent Sherlock, I don't know what you're talking about. None of what you said is true. I didn't do anything."
"This grand plan of yours, you both took a huge risk but I guess you thought the payoff would be worth it. We could have so easily killed you, Mick, and for what? For money? That was a very bad decision you made, but you know, I don't think it was your idea.
"You came up with it, didn't you, Jane Ann? You thought it all through, decided to call me so I'd give you the perfect alibi. I can see it on your face. You set up the cold-blooded murder of your own husband. I'd hoped I was wrong, hoped it was Mick here who was the grand manipulator. But no, it couldn't have been Mick's idea, he's too young, too self-absorbed, and frankly, he's not bright enough. But you made sure he was in so far he couldn't get himself out when he discovered how you'd used him.
