Free The Murder of Janessa Hennley by Victor Methos Page A

swerved to miss him and an SUV nicked the man’s leg. He flew through the air and spun, then hit the pavement hard.
    T en yards away now, Mickey pushed with everything he had. Sweat poured out of him, and he was short of breath. His throat was dry and closing up. But he didn’t slow.
    T he man was Caucasian, but Mickey could establish nothing else. No distinguishing features. The man was limping away. He turned into an alley between a hamburger joint and a gas station. Mickey followed. As he rounded the corner, he saw only a blur before a board impacted against his face. He flew off his feet onto his back, the blood exploding in a massive spray out of his broken nose.
    The man dashed for a fence and began to climb. When he saw Mickey still on the ground, unable to move, he flung himself over and turned around to face him. He stuck his fingers through the chain-link fence and watched Mickey. The cap and the shade of the alley made it difficult to see his face. On top of that, Mickey saw double.
    “I see you,” the man rasped.
    He ran in the other direction.
    N auseated from the amount of blood he’d swallowed, Mickey attempted to get up but instead hunched over and vomited.

19
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Mickey placed an ice pack on his nose in the waiting room of the ER . When he was finally taken back, he was given a painkiller as they reset his nose.
    He didn’t remember much after that other than needles and shots . He did recall a male with gray hair standing over him, and the loud crunch that sounded like it came from inside his skull.
    The familiar tingling of Demerol flooded his system. He drifted out of consciousness for a time and remembered his wife. A picnic somewhere with their daughter, still a toddler, running around them with a toy airplane. That memory came to him at least half a dozen times.
    The cool air from a fan above him hit his forehead. Sweat saturated him. His throat hurt, and he wanted water but wasn’t sure how to find somebody.
    A nurse’s aide walked by the open door, glanced in, and shouted, “Doctor Lloyd.”
    A man with gray hair came in. He was smiling with warmth that comforted Mickey almost immediately.
    The doctor sat down on the bed and lightly touched Mickey’s arm. “How you feeling, Mr. Parsons?”
    “Like I fell off a building,” he rasped.
    “You took a rather vicious blow to the face and suffered a concussion. You’ll experience some memory loss of the event. That’s perfectly all right. You also have a broken nose. What was more concerning is the ulcer that’s developed along the lining of your stomach. Were you aware of that?”
    He shook his head .
    “It’s perforated the lining. That’s why you vomited blood. Normally I would have just taken you in for surgery, but I wanted to speak to you first. We can repair it here. We simply cauterize it with a small scope we put down your throat. We don’t even have to put you out for it, if you don’t want.”
    Mickey touched the bandage on his nose. “Can I think about it?”
    “Sure. But it’s bleeding right now. I wouldn’t wait longer th an a couple of days to decide. And no more heavy exertion. That’s what aggravated it.”
    “I appreciate it. Thanks.”
    After the doctor left, Mickey took out his cell phone. He had two voicemail messages, the first one from Kyle.
    “What the hell happened, Mickey? I got a report from that sheriff that you tried to apprehend someone at the funeral? Call me right now. I’m sending someone up from the Anchorage office if I don’t hear from you.”
    Another message , from Suzan.
    “Hey, just checking on you. Please give me a call at this number when you’re feeling up to it.”
    He placed the phone on the side table and lay back. Soon, Kyle would find out everything that happened and pull him from the field. If he opted for the ulcer surgery, that would buy him some time, but not much. His days in Kodiak Basin were numbered, but the last thing he wanted to do was leave.