Free Dying Memories by Dave Zeltserman Page B

He’d have to look into that. He couldn’t imagine that type of car crash not attracting witnesses. The problem was he was too dazed and too singularly focused on the man with the gun to notice what else was around him at the time.
    The patrolman who drove him back to his apartment building showed the same level of contempt in his expression that the detective had held. He didn’t say a word to Bill until he pulled up behind Bill’s car.
    “You want I should have the bomb unit go over your car?” he asked. “We can bring dogs to sniff it out for you if that will make you happy.”
    “That won’t be necessary,” Bill said stiffly. He left the police cruiser and moved cautiously to his car while half-expecting the same men from before to come charging onto the scene. Outside of the cop who had driven him and was now sitting in his cruiser glaring at him, the street was empty. The first thing Bill did once he was inside his own car was check to make sure his laptop and cell phone were where he left them. Then, squeezing his eyes shut and mouthing a silent prayer, he turned the key in the ignition. The engine turned over with a slight whirl. There was no explosion. He wasn’t engulfed in a fiery ball. The only sound was his heart pounding over the soft purr of his car’s engine. Bill exhaled in a loud burst and realized he’d been holding his breath since the moment he’d gotten into his car. He opened his eyes and looked in the rearview mirror and spotted the cop behind him. The cop shook his head with disgust, then putting his cruiser in gear, pulled away.
    Bill sat collecting his thoughts. What happened could have been a fluke. It could’ve been a bizarre case of mistaken identity, at least that’s what they wanted him to think. Maybe it was that way, but what kept flashing in his mind was that hypodermic needle and that seemed to make it something else. And then there was that email message for his new good pal, G . He used his cell phone to call Detective Chuck Boxer.
    “Did Gail Hawes have any needle marks on her?”
    Bill heard the detective sighing wearily. “We released this to you guys already,” Boxer half growled. “A full toxicology screen was done. Nothing was in her system.”
    “That’s not what I’m asking. Did she have any unexplained needle marks on her?”
    Boxer hesitated before telling Bill that that information was not for public consumption, but yeah, she had a puncture mark on her arm. “Why you asking?” Boxer asked.
    “I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know when I am.”
    Bill got off the phone and thought about Gail Hawes and Trey Megeet both with their mysterious hypodermic needle marks. As anxious as he was to research this, as well as the man he was supposedly mistaken for, Jeffrey Vozzmer, it was six-thirty and he badly wanted to see Emily. At that moment that was all that mattered to him. The other stuff would have to wait.

Chapter 20

    Bill arrived at the agreed upon restaurant by seven, and Emily was already there. Like every other time he’d seen her she was stunningly beautiful as she wore her brown suede jacket and matching skirt, her hair down and flowing past her shoulders. When she saw him she flashed him a near heart stopping smile, but as she noticed his injured ear, her smile faded quickly and concern wrinkled her brow. Bill waved away her question about what happened by telling her it was a long story.
    After they were seated at their table and having drinks, Emily told him that he was going to have to tell her what happened regardless of how long the story was. “You’re still too wrapped up in it not to tell me,” she insisted.
    “I am, am I?”
    “That’s right,” she said. “You keep disappearing on me. So come on, spill it!”
    “You’ll think I’m nuts,” he said.
    That brought a smile back to her lips. “Maybe,” she said.
    Her smile was just too beautiful and alluring for him to resist. He relented, first telling her about Trey Megeet,