Free Hybrid by Brian O'Grady Page B

forget my eggs.” She gave Phil a smile.
    Phil followed the huge man into the kitchen. At six feet two, he was no taller than Phil, but he was very close to twice his weight, somewhere in excess of four hundred pounds. Two uniformed officers immediately found their way out of the kitchen as Patton approached.
    “Dr. Rucker, I’ve been meaning to introduce myself since I arrived in Colorado Springs three months ago, but as you know, things have been somewhat busy.”
    The words were cordial enough, but Phil sensed his underlying frustration.
    “I appreciate that, Detective, and your attempt at being friendly, but you’re wasting your time. I will not be persuaded to drop this,” Phil said without emphasis.
    Patton stared at him, inhaling giant gulps of air. For a moment, Phil thought that Patton was trying to pressure him by sucking up all the air in the room. He almost smiled at that absurdity.
    “You told the officers that you saw a tall, dark man standing over the deceased, and that he simply strolled away after you yelled at him.” All attempts at being friendly were gone. “Further, you saw this same man yesterday assault a woman and then disappear down an empty street.”
    “That’s correct,” Phil said simply.
    “Doctor, please try and look at this from my perspective. Mr. Van Der was eighty-six. He had a history of heart disease, and he was clearing ten inches of snow with a snowblower that was designed for no more than six. As I see it, your neighbor suffered another heart attack, and this man just happened to be driving by as Mr. Van Der collapsed. I don’t see a crime here.” His voice had a subtle, manipulative undercurrent.
    Phil would not be moved. “That is one possibility, Detective, but it happens to be the most expedient possibility. Experience has taught me that the most expedient possibility is rarely the correct one.”
    “Experience has taught me that the simplest explanation is usually the correct one,” Patton fired back with a touch of anger.
    “But not always. Otherwise, we wouldn’t need detectives,” Phil said just as quickly.
    “I can’t authorize this. I will not pull people off of legitimate investigations to prove that Mr. Van Der died of natural causes.” His voice was now adamant.
    Phil hesitated. They both knew that he had the legal authority to compel Patton to do whatever he wanted. Patton’s defiance was curious, and Phil was intrigued by it. But Phil was never intrigued by the motivations of others. The realization played across Phil’s mind, but didn’t change it.
    A part of him registered the arrival of Patrick Van Der. “You will continue to investigate this as a crime until you are told otherwise, Detective,” Phil said without emotion. He had no desire to continue this discussion, or to share the grief of the Van Ders’ only child. He retrieved his coat from the back of a kitchen chair and left through the back door.
    Phil trudged through the snow to his back door. Several of the police stopped what they were doing and stared, hoping he would fall.

Regency Care Center was half acute-care hospital and half rehabilitation center. Emily Larson didn’t feel she needed either and Amanda found her aunt outside walking in the cool morning air, a heavy coat covering a hospital gown. Amanda quickly parked her car and hurried over to her aunt.
    “What are you doing out here?” Amanda asked coming up behind her.
    “What are you doing here?” Emily answered back.
    “You know you’re not supposed to be out here, and why aren’t you using the cane?”
    “The only way they’ll let me out of here is if I can walk, so I’m walking.”
    Amanda smiled for the first time in days. Emily was a true force of nature; on the surface, she was a carbon copy of her brother: rude, loud, and opinionated. But whereas he justified his behavior with some fanciful notion of inherent superiority, Emily had earned the right to be loud and opinionated. She had been a sociology