Page 55 of A Breath of Life
“I know. Fuck. I’m sorry. I hurt myself.”
Cautiously, I prodded my tender nose to ensure it wasn’t bleeding. My fingers came back clean.
When the fresh injustice turned from a steady gong to a mild pulse, I picked up the phone again, figuring I would call the Western hospital in the capacity of a concerned family member and inquire if Clarence was or had ever been a patient.
Immediately, I put the device down, remembering that I didn’t have the fucker’s last name.
“—certain… predilections.”
Growling, I shook the intrusive thought away as my past crept up on me again, trying to slither out of the vault. Envisioning Tallus under the assault of a faceless stranger named Ace was enough to jack up my blood pressure.
Dr. Peterson constantly reminded me not to fret over things that hadn’t happened, but those battles were hard-won.
The pressure behind my eyes was not letting up, and I gently massaged my temple as I considered angles that didn’t include driving back to police headquarters and storming inside.
In the end, I looked up the number for the mortuary where Jaxon had last worked and placed a call. At least I could discover if he was still employed. Maybe his dead phone indicated he’d finally been canned. Hopefully not. Hopefully, we could meet, and he could get me a last fucking name or address for dear old Clarence before I put my fist through a wall and ended up in another goddamned cast.
Or arrested.
Or single.
After grumbling a request to the snarky woman who answered, I was put on hold. Jaxon came on the line a few minutes later, sounding as gruff as ever. “Buren. What d’ya need?”
“It’s Krause. What the fuck’s wrong with your phone? I tried calling you, and the number is disconnected.”
Silence, then quieter, “I can’t talk right now.”
“Fine. Six tonight. The usual spot. I need information.”
He sighed. “Yeah, I’m not doing that anymore. I gotta go.”
“Fifty bucks,” I said before he could disconnect.
Shuffling sounded on the other end of the line. When Buren spoke, his voice was so hushed I could barely hear him. “I said I’m not doing that anymore. What part didn’t you understand? Find. Someone. Else.”
“There is no one else. It’s nothing complicated.”
Buren didn’t speak, but he didn’t hang up either.
“I need the name of a guy who was treated in the emergency room about a week ago. I’m not sure which hospital, but my bet is on Western. That’s it. That’s all. A last name and an address if you can swing it.”
“A hundred bucks.”
“For a fucking name? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
“I’m out of business is what I am. I don’t do this anymore,” Buren snapped, tone low. “A hundred or you find someone else.”
“Jesus fucking Christ. Fine. Where can I send you the details?”
“Nowhere. I’ll get them from you in person at six.”
I wanted to argue that time was of the essence, and I needed answers at six, but I bit my tongue. “I’ll be there.”
“Money in advance.”
“Half. That’s how we’ve always done it.”
“All, or I’m retired.” He hung up before I could object.
