Chapter 6

With no place to run, no clever excuse to evade, nothing could be done to prevent the meeting between our Christmas Darling and the two detectives she had interestingly conversed with months earlier.

The fluorescent lights flickered, dancing an ominous jig, causing Jennifer's headache to grow as if it were a delicate flower being watered with Miracle-Grow. The sheet covering her body felt as if it were made from ten thread count material. Every adjustment caused an irritating bite of pain, rubbing against the skin with the consistency of sandpaper. The pillow her head rested on was enveloping her ears and provided absolutely zero support.

She was in more pain from the hospital comfort than the panic attack remnants or throbbing headache. Her mind wrestled with what the hell hospitals spent all their money on because it sure was not patient comfort. Before Jennifer could finish preparing a solid thesis on this subject, her thought process was rudely interrupted with the appearance of the detectives. She wondered if they might try to torture her behind the solitary room door or maybe they would scream and yell wild off base threats until her head exploded.

Detective Phillips and his grumpy ungroomed counterpart entered the hospital room with a sense of dominance, an ego the size of David's after he defeated Goliath. It was very evident that these men felt they truly had found the evasive Christmas Darling and would soon make the front page of all the local newspapers, get medals from the Mayor, and move up several ranks as they fought tooth and nail to get to the top of the San Diego Justice System.

With a tip of a non-existent hat, Detective Phillips reintroduced himself. The grumpy detective grimaced as he flanked the opposite side of the bed. His eyes analyzed the monitor showing all of Jennifer's life statistics for all to see. For the record, her blood pressure was an immaculate one-twenty over eighty, but her oxygen was ten percent to the negative side of normal.

As soon as she accidently made eye contact with Detective Phillips, he began, "Well, well, well, we meet again. Sorry you're not feeling well but it seems the truth rises to the top when you're under the weather." He clasped his hands together and tucked his chin to his chest, his best impersonation of sympathy and concern.

Jennifer looked around the room without a sound, stopping only to eye the Detective Grumpy as he was fingering the flashing screen next to the bed. In her mind, she knew that launching a defensive attack too early would certainly increase the detective's interest in her. She had to be methodical with her responses and careful of her tone if she was ever going to make it out of this room without handcuffs and photographers.

Launching his second attempt at breaking down Jennifer, "Ma'am, you made some interesting comments, dare I say confessions, to the paramedic tending to you last night. Care to elaborate for us?"

Putting on her best 'about to die' performance, Jennifer sat up just enough to fold her pillow in half to allow her head a little elevation, "I'm...so...weak. I need...water. Nurse...please?"

Detective Grumpy made an over-the-top growl in disapproval. He was a hard ass and wanted to get this process going as to not miss his tuna salad sandwich lunch, "Just talk woman. Just answer the questions and let the chips fall."

Chips, Jennifer thought, which type of chips? Lays salted chips, poker chips; some sort of chip that only police knew about? Her eyes traced the ceiling as she continued her thirsty weakened act. Not a word would exit her mouth until they gave her something, that would shift the power in her favor slightly.

Another ravenous growl came from Grumpy's throat, "Great God damn, Phillips get her some water. We don't want her dying on us here before she can confess."

Detective Phillips smiled, hands still clasped, took a bow, and exited the room to find the nurse. This left the Christmas Darling one on one with the grumpy detective that clearly thought he had the Christmas Darling against the ropes. The room transformed into a twister of tension and fear. A panic attack would not be the downfall of our justice balancer.

As soon as the door was clear and Detective Phillips had left the room, Grumpy started to turn the screws, "Listen here. We know who you are and what you have been doing. Shit, you confessed last night of your own fruition. Save us the trouble and confess already. We know the District Attorney and I will make sure you get a cupcake deal. He owns me since I made that overdosed hooker disappear from his office."

Her eyes focused on an oddly shaped stain on the wall. She did not know it, but her body wasn't shifting at all, hell, she wasn't even blinking. This gave her an idea, something to buy some time with. She began holding her breath and straining every muscle in her body. That perfect blood pressure because to dance on the screen, intermittently setting off a deafening tone.

Grumpy began to jump his eyes from Jennifer to the monitor; he was frazzled, "What's happening? What are you doing? Stop it or I'll pop you one right here in this hospital."

Jennifer looked up at him with wet eyes, tears snaking down her temples, "I...do not...feel so...good. Please help." Almost every man on the planet is a sucker for a crying woman. Men feel as if they are superior to women and with that feeling instilled in them, they tended to be very protective of a weak crying woman.

Leaning in very closely, breathe stinking of corn chips and Pepsi "Stop this nonsense you little bitch. Whatever you are doing, it's not going to work." He raised his hand and clinched his old fat fist. Jennifer had had worse. Injuries were the name of the game in her business. If this old geezer did hit her, that was an asset. Money in the bank. A card to play in the future.

Detective Phillips burst through the door with a nurse in tow, "Ed, what the hell are you doing? I left to get water and now you are about to beat her! Are you fucking serious?"

The alarm on the monitor was going full tilt now, echoing through the hospital as it pierced the eardrums of anyone in its proximity. Jennifer sent her body into a defensive position and forced more tears from her face, making Grumpy look like he was the one about to be arrested for serial killing numerous men. This was picture perfect.

The nurse called for the doctor and security as Phillips continued his assault on Grumpy. In a matter of seconds, the room filled with security guards and doctors, maybe that is where all the money went that Jennifer was wondering about earlier.

The Christmas Darling was laughing hysterically on the inside. This was circus sideshow material, something you look at because it is absolutely mind blowing but it also fell in the category of nightmare fuel.

Security ushered the detectives out of the room as they all barked and showed their teeth.

Typical men. Soon the room fell eerily silent as Jennifer was dosed with a sedative, liquid Xanax, and all her vitals came back in line. The doctor was adamantly apologizing for allowing all this to happen, the nurse was rubbing Jennifer's hand whispering some southern shit she had heard her mother say years ago, "My momma taught me that when a man raises his hand at a woman, the devil would get him in his sleep. Here's to wishing."

Smiling from politeness or intoxication, "Nurse, when can I go home. I am worried about my cat. Samson has not been alone ever before. He must be starving."

The nurse's face dropped to the floor with despair, "Oh dear, let me talk to the doctor and see what we can work out. Until then honey, you just gotta rest and relax. Deal?"

A nod of agreement jiggled the bed and sent the nurse out of the door. The window of the door was covered by a black shirt, security was ensuring that no one, detective or not, was allowed back in this room. There would be no hitting, threatening, interrogating in this hospital room today.

As time went by and the room darkened with the slow vanishing of the sun there was a light knock on the door. The need to knock was silly as Jennifer could not get up to open it nor was it locked or forbidden to entrants.

Her eyes widened with shock, as if an apparition had just floated into her room. A tall slender man cracked the door, "Remember me? Can I come in?"

He looked so familiar, his face, the tone of his voice, it was all ringing every bell in Jennifer's head, "Sure. Wait...are you the paramedic from last night?"

He smiled, stood tall and proud, and nodded his head, "Sure am Jennifer. I wanted to talk to you about something. Maybe help you out a little."

Jennifer quickly deduced that this was either a clever ploy by the cops to get her talking or she just found an ally in this battle against evil.

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