Bloody River Blues

leave. They’d talk again soon. He thanked her. Looked her right in the eye and said, “This’s been real, you know, reassuring. I appreciate it.” They shook hands. Buffett told her to have a nice weekend.
    When she was gone he picked up the phone and called Bob Gianno at the Maddox police station. They talked about nothing for a while and when Buffett could wait no longer he asked the detective for a phone number. There was silence for a moment and then Buffett heard the numbers. He memorized them. He asked Gianno, “This is one of those cellular phones, right?”
    “Yeah, it’s in his Winnebago.”
    “And I just call it like a regular number?”
    “That’s all you have to do.”

Chapter 12
    THROUGH HIS CLOSED eyes, Donnie Buffett was aware of a shadow over him. He hoped it was not Penny.
    He particularly hoped it wasn’t her parents.
    The nurse changing the urine bag would have been okay.
    The nurse changing the Foleys wouldn’t have been.
    He was pleased to see that it was John Pellam.
    Buffett said, “Hey, chief, it’s you.”
    Pellam nodded and walked into the room.
    “You got more flowers. Looks like a nursery.”
    “Yeah. I don’t like flowers so much, you know. She said she didn’t want them, that girl of yours. But you ought to take some to her. What’s her name? Tell her you bought ’em.”
    “I’m glad you called. I was going to stop by.”
    Buffett waved to the chair. “Why? You in the mood for more abuse?”
    Pellam laughed.
    “I was feeling bad, you know. I was a real shit.”
    “No problem,” Pellam said.
    “I kind of go crazy. I didn’t—”
    “I understand. You doing okay?”
    Buffett nodded, and laughed. “I’m fine. I was, I think the doctor called it, ‘resisting.’ I was resisting what happened to me. If you go with it you feel better.”
    “Good.”
    “A little therapy. I’ll get a wheelchair. There’re a lot of laws. Wheelchair access. Go to the Cardinals games, they gotta have ramps. You can get practically anywhere.”
    “I saw they have sports for . . . you know.” Pellam was hesitating, maybe not sure whether to say “paraplegics” or “handicapped.” What he said was, “Wheelchair sports. I saw it on the ESPN.”
    “Yeah, basketball. Wheelchair basketball. And some guys do the marathon. I guess you can coast downhill. Man,” he said, smiling, “that’s me—doing a marathon sitting on my ass. Hey, you want something to eat?”
    “Thanks a ton. Hospital food?”
    “Naw, I got some good stuff here. Ruffles, dip. Cookies.”
    Pellam shook his head. Buffett ate half a cookie and stared into the cellophane bag for a moment. He rolled the top of the bag tight. Set it on a tray.
    Pellam did a tour of the greenhouse by the window. He said, “So how long you been on the force?”
    “Close to seven years.”
    “You say that? Force?”
    “Sure, you can say that.”
    “And you walked a beat, like in the old days?”
    “Some neighborhoods aren’t so good anymore. Maddox’s really gone to the dogs. So you make movies?”
    “Not me. I just find locations.”
    “How’d you get into that?”
    “Fell into it, I guess. I like to travel.”
    “You meet any Hollywood honeys? You must, huh?”
    “I stay clear of the Coast. Not my scene, really.”
    “Then why’re you in movies?”
    “Why’re you a cop?”
    Buffett shrugged.
    “Oh, I forgot.” Pellam lifted the stained bag he carried. “It’s beer. Can you drink it?”
    “Hell, yes, I can drink it.”
    Pellam sat down on the sturdy gray chair. They opened two cans and drank them down. “You know,” Buffett said, “all these guys I work with? Mean sons of bitches some of them, it’s like they turn into pussies when they come to see me. They bring me flowers. They bring me magazines. Nobody’s brought me any beer. A lot of guys don’t come. I think they’re nervous or something about seeing me, about what they’re going to say.”
    Pellam stood up and slipped two fresh cans in the water pitcher next to the bed. He filled it with cold water. The lid did not close completely. “If you got a spacey nurse, maybe you can get away with it.”
    “ ’Preciate it, chief.”
    Pellam sipped his beer. He waited a moment, then said, “I guess I wanted to say this last time, but, well, you looked pretty upset and I held off.”
    “Say what?”
    “I’m really getting hassled. Your buddies—and the FBI now—they’re really on my case. They’ve been on the set and it’s messing up