I thought about Braco Alekseeva all the way home.
Chapter 36
“What do you mean, how did I get that name? I’m an investigator, remember? I came across it as part of my investigation. So what can you tell me about my friend Mr. Alekseeva?”
“Braco Alekseeva, Braco the Whacko, believe me, you want to stay as far away as possible from that guy,” Aaron said.
We were having dinner at Geno’s, which might sound casual but was very trendy. I had once dated a waitress from Geno’s for a torrid three and a half weeks a couple of years back, then broke it off when her ex-husband entered our relationship. He was a professional arm wrestler. Well that, and the fact that she went off her meds. Our parting had been unpleasant, public, and memorable when she attacked me with a steak knife on the outdoor patio of a restaurant I’ve never revisited since. I figured given the mobility of servers in the restaurant biz and her craziness I had a pretty good chance she wasn’t still employed here. Wrong again.
“Good evening, gentlemen, may I get you something from the bar or perhaps you’d like to see our wine… Dev, Devlin Haskell?”
“Oh hey, Renee, how you doing? I’m here with officer LaZelle. So, you’re still working here? Going well, I hope.” I was praying the idea of police protection might fend her off for the evening.
Aaron nodded, smiled, then turned to the page marked “prohibitively expensive” in the wine list while Renee glared at me and never blinked.
“Well, yeah, I guess it’s going okay. You know, the handicap and all, tough to get work so I’m just thankful I’ve got a job to go to. You know me, soldiering on, uncomplaining,” she said sounding serious, I guessed it must be whatever meds she was on at the present.
“Gee, that’s great, you look fabulous,” I said, and she did.
“I think we’ll have the Sangiovese, bin nineteen,” Aaron smiled.
“Oh, very nice selection, sir, I’ll be right back with that,” she smiled, then flashed her eyes at me as she left.
“Is this place okay or would you prefer somewhere else?”
“The table?” Aaron asked looking at me like I was crazy.
“No, the restaurant, look I have some history with our waitress there, and…”
“No Kidding? Not bad, man, you may have just gone up a notch in my estimation.”
“Oh God, don’t even go there. Bottom line is she wigged out, tried to kill me with a steak knife out on a patio.”
“I’d like to hear her side of it. Were there witnesses?”
“Witnesses! God, it was at a restaurant, she went absolutely crazy. Look, I don’t want to get into it tonight, okay. But I’m more than a little uncomfortable with the whole thing right now. Look, just watch my back here, will you?”
“Oh God, will you relax? Someone that good-looking, believe me, she’s glad to have you out of her life.”
“Thanks for the…”
“Gentlemen, would either of you care to sample before I pour?” Renee smiled sweetly at Aaron.
“Yes, I’d love to,” he said, pushing a wine glass ever so slightly in her direction.
She poured.
Aaron made a production of swirling, inhaling, swishing around in his mouth, eventually swallowing before deeming it acceptable.
“Delightfully fruity,” he said, as if he’d know.
She poured us both a glass, delivered menus, told us about the specials, one was a steak I immediately vetoed for reasons of cutlery safety.
“So what can you tell me about Braco Alekseeva?” I asked, sticking my nose in the wine and checking for arsenic.
“How’d you get that name?” Aaron asked, there was no humor in his voice, about as deadly serious as I’ve ever seen him.
“What do mean, how did I get that name?”
The night continued, mercifully uneventful. I relaxed a bit more as our conversation turned to other things besides Braco Alekseeva and Kerri Vucavitch. Or maybe it was the second bottle of wine Aaron ordered. Or the fact that Renee seemed reasonably stable for the moment. We ordered dessert, after-dinner drinks, a second round of after-dinner drinks. I paid the bill, feeling no pain, left a generous tip as a safety precaution, told Renee she was beautiful, wished her all the best. Aaron bought us a nightcap in the bar.
It was about three in the morning when I woke with that particular lower intestinal discomfort. A friend described it best when he said “your body tells you it’s about to do something awful. Your choice where, you’ve got ninety seconds to decide.” Fortunately the master bath adjoins my room.
Without going into specifics I was still there at six in the morning, only I’d added a metal bowl on my lap. I was losing it from both ends, hell of way to make your goal weight. I collapsed into an exhausted sleep sometime after nine, only to leap out of bed and run into the bathroom forty-five minutes later. Eventually I showered, slept on and off for three fitful hours, and was back in the bathroom. There was nothing left. I dozed off and on through the afternoon and early evening, snapped back into action by excruciating intestinal cramps. I sipped a bottle of spring water hoping it would stay down and phoned Aaron. Amazingly he answered and sounded happy.
“Hey, thanks for last night, man. I should bet against you more often.”
“You okay?”
“Oh, a little slow moving this morning but nothing that an order of hash browns, ground sausage, and fried eggs smothered with hollandaise sauce couldn’t handle.”
I felt my stomach lurch at the description.
“You?” he asked.
“God, don’t even ask,” I said then proceeded to give him the details.
“Really, I can’t believe it. You sure you didn’t just get some weird bug, maybe some twenty-four hour thing?”
“It’s that damn Renee, she’s couldn’t kill me with that knife. Now she’s poisoned me.”
“Well, I’m sure you were a jerk and most likely you deserve it, but I don’t think she poisoned you. I mean I’m not sick. Like I said I was a little hung over but nothing that an order of…”
“Don’t go there,” I groaned, struggling out of bed. The mere mention of Renee crossing my lips restarted my cramps, and I crawled back into the bathroom.
“I’ll talk to you later,” I groaned and hung up.
I phoned Heidi from the bathroom.
“I need you,” I pleaded once she answered.
“Now what?” she snapped back.
“Look, ditch the boy toy, please, I’m in real trouble here.”
“If you’re in jail again, you can just stay there because I’m not bailing you out this time. You can call…”
“Heidi, I’m not in jail. I’m in real trouble here.”
“What’s wrong?” she sounded genuinely concerned.
“I’m sicker than a dog. I think I’ve been poisoned.”
“Oh God, more of your neurosis. What? Baby has a little tummy ache?”
“Tummy ache! I’ve been cramping for close to twenty-four hours. I’m dehydrating, I can’t keep anything down, let alone in.”
“You see a doctor?”
“I’m too sick to get there. I can’t get more than about ten feet away from porcelain.”
“No kidding? What have you had since you’ve been ill?”
“To drink? Just some bottled spring water, didn’t stay with me. I think I’ve probably got a fever. I’m exhausted.”
She gave a long sigh.
“Okay, I’ll be over. Let me stop and pick up some things that will probably help. I’ll be there in an hour or so.”
“Promise?” I sounded desperate, even to myself.
“God yes, I promise I’ll be over, get back to bed if you’re not there already.”
Getting back to bed wasn’t an option at the moment, and I remained in the bathroom.
Chapter 37
I had drifted off to sleep for probably fifteen minutes. I heard Heidi call to me as she entered.
“In here,” I groaned from bed.