Imperfect Contract Read Free

Hutchinson and my other patients.  Most had visitors and were doing fine.  Hutchinson was alone. 
    I took advantage of the opportunity to bathe him and change his dressings.  The fetid odor was coming from his head wound.  I cleaned it with saline and redressed it, being careful to use good sterile technique.  Hospitals are full of pathogens, bacteria that make people sick, and I didn't want to add fuel to the already raging infection.  I hung his intravenous antibiotic, connected the short tubing to the IV pump, and keyed a detailed narrative into the chart.  As I saved my entry, Amelia reappeared.
    "Hi, Amelia."  I nodded in her direction.  She smiled and settled into the chair.
    "I see you've done his dressing.  How does it look?"
    "Not good to me.  I'm writing about it now.  His neurosurgeon makes rounds before dinner so I'll talk to him about it then.  I think the wound is infected."
    "That started a few days ago in the ICU."
    I darkened the computer screen and perched on the edge of the straight-back chair next to Amelia.  "Amelia, are you trying to keep up with the realty business while he's here?"
    "As best I can.  He kept the finances pretty much to himself, I'm afraid, though he did put my name on everything.  He just never gave me the details.  I'm figuring it out.  We have a secretary and another agent.  We're getting by."  She stared at her hands as she talked.  "And, customers are still coming in.  We're in a strip mall in the middle of several new housing developments.  We get a lot of walk-in traffic shopping for resales."
    "How are you set for the future?"  I asked.
    "It's not good.  I always thought the agency was doing well.  The escrow accounts are in order—thank God for that—but the checking account is almost empty.  We need to close some deals to make payroll."
    "Is there anyone to help you?"  I felt sorry for her.  Her world was falling apart.
    "I'm getting some help from a broker friend of Barry's, but he has limited time.  I'm going to have to close the agency and work for someone else.  I always thought I'd retire when I reached sixty—that was my plan.  Barry's friend Mike from Michael Wiley Realty offered me a job and offered to take over our outstanding contracts.  That's what I'll have to do."  She stared out the window, then her gaze shifted to her husband.  "The problem is Barry would disapprove if I sold out to Mike.  It's true they're friends, but they’re also fierce competitors.  Each one tried to get the upper hand.  Mike has been more successful over the last couple of years."
    I let her talk for a few minutes before excusing myself.  I was behind with my other patients and needed to hurry to get off duty on time.  In my opinion, Hutchinson would never run the agency again.  I thought that Amelia should cut her losses, close the place, and get a job.  I wondered about life insurance, and I wondered about motives. 
    Maybe I'd talk to Detective Ray Stone after all.

 
     
     
    3
     
     
    The next morning I pulled out of the quiet cul-de-sac where I live onto the main drive preoccupied with thoughts about Ray.  I'd done my best to remove him from my system and my mind, but I was ambivalent.  We had a history together that started when I was a police officer and continued in fits and starts over the years.  We'd gotten together to discuss one of his cases a few times since then, and the attraction remained. 
    I sat at a traffic light, waiting for a left-hand turn arrow, and remembering.  A creep shot me during a routine traffic stop eight years ago.  During the several months in the hospital and rehab, I discovered a desire to be a nurse.  After I healed—all except for the problem with my right leg—I enrolled in nursing school. 
    Since I worked at Coral Bay Medical Center, my friends on the force asked for information on a regular basis, and I stayed in touch with my former profession.  People's life problems, not just their