Stillwater
7:23 a.m.
“And now with a breaking news story, here’s Good Morning Manhattan’s Jennifer Yakomo.”
“Thank you Theresa. I’m standing in front of millionaire television mogul Matthew Domlin’s residence where the press has been told that a conference is just beginning with important news about Domlin Entertainment’s future. Oh … stepping up to the microphone is vice-president of Domlin Entertainment, Thomas Jerome. Here he is now.”
“Good morning ladies and gentlemen … I – I’m sorry, this is difficult … I have some shocking news this morning. Matthew Domlin’s family, friends, and board members … are grieving his death. Matt … was stabbed in the heart last night as he slept alone in this mansion. Police are beginning an investigation, and in the meantime, I am taking over as president of Domlin Entertainment. I – I urge everyone to not panic, and although Matthew is dead, this does not mean his company is. We all grieve Matt’s death, and I hope your prayers will go with him as we try to apprehend the evil … psycho who did this…. My assistant will now answer any questions you may have. Thank you.”
7:26
a.m.
Angie watched the newscast in disbelief. Part of her felt sad for those close to Matthew Domlin. But she also knew that she and Rollie wouldn’t miss the man.
When Rollie had been making the movie, Domlin had been a wrench in the works most of the time. He’d want things changed to the way he wanted them, and every time Rollie would be dragged through the mud, trying to find some kind of solution that satisfied Domlin while in the meantime satisfied Rollie’s vision. Rollie would always come up with something they could both agree on, but only after much time and money was wasted on the discussion.
She turned off the television and crossed to the door of her apartment. She heard a sound from behind her. She turned and saw Chiops, her cat, staring up at her. He rubbed his face up against her leg, and mewed.
“Come here,” Angie said, lifting the cat up. He started to purr, and she hugged him. She stroked his fur, and a few strands of hair stuck to her arms. She lifted him off, brushing the tiny pieces of cat hair from her sweater.
A
goodbye from Chiops was how Angie often started her day. It was comforting to have the cat
there. Having a pet, she was sure, was
a major stress reliever.
The phone rang, startling her. She took a deep breath, and reached over her shoulder to grab her phone.
“Hello?”
It was Leo. His voice was unnaturally flat and ominous. “Angie – something’s happened.”
Angie frowned. Chiops jumped back onto her lap, purring. He stared up at her, and her gaze locked with the cat’s for a moment. He rubbed against Angie’s arm sympathetically.
It was as if he knew.
8:04
a.m.
Angie moved rapidly. She climbed out of the red F/X pickup truck and jogged across the hospital parking lot, her long coat billowing out behind her. She ran her hand through her hair as she entered the hospital, and hoped that she didn’t look as terrified as she felt.
From what little information Leo had given her on the phone, it sounded like Rollie had been in really bad shape when they’d found him. Leo wouldn’t say much. She suspected the situation was probably even worse than he’d said.
Angie didn’t even bother to stop at the reception desk. Leo had said that Rollie was in the E.R., and she knew where it was. She took the elevator up one floor. The moment the doors were open she darted over to the nurse’s desk.
“Rollie Tyler – where is he?”
The tired-looking nurse looked up. She didn’t say anything; she just pointed with her pen down the hall. Angie looked, and stared.
It was obvious what room she meant. There was a small crowd of people outside the room; police officers, nurses, and a small TV crew. She could just see Leo amongst them. He caught her gaze, and pushed his way out of the crowd. The TV crew gradually drifted after him.
“What’s happened?” Angie said as he came within earshot.
She’d never seen Leo looking like this before. His face was almost grey. His mouth was a thin line. He looked like he’d been up all night, which had been the case. What had he said – he was on a stakeout when the call came in?
She
felt a pit in her stomach. How bad
was it?
“Angie – Rollie’s ….”
Angie could read all that she needed to know from Leo’s tone of voice. “But he’s still … alive?”
Leo nodded.
“Thank God,” she said, hugging him. She couldn’t help herself as she started to cry.
The sudden appearance of a microphone made Angie pull away. “You’re Angela Ramirez, Mr. Tyler’s ex-assistant, aren’t you? Do you know what happened? How do you feel?”
Leo spun around to find the TV crew had migrated around them. Two cameras had been filming them. Leo roughly pushed both camera lenses away. “Get out! Give her some space!” he shouted, angrily.
When they heard this, the police officers nearby came to Leo’s rescue, herding the crowd away from them.
In the midst of it all, a female nurse came up beside them. “You are Angela Ramirez?”
Angie nodded, brushing a tear from her cheek.
“Come this way, honey.” The nurse put her hand on Angie’s back and guided her into a small waiting room. Leo followed her, and shut the door behind them.
The room was bare except for six old chairs which were gathered in the semicircle. The only person in the room was a doctor, who rose from his chair as he saw Angie and the others enter. “Angela Ramirez? I’m Doctor Patrick Hunt.”
Angie looked up at his face, trying to find some comfort. His smile contained an attempt at reassurance, but she sensed that behind it lay grim news. “Hello,” was all she could choke out.
The doctor invited her to sit down. Angie sat, running her hand over the bottom cushion of the chair. The fabric had been ripped – stuffing bulged from the tear.
Leo sat beside her, and began to explain what had happened. Where they had discovered Rollie. What it looked like had happened.
Then the doctor added his news.
“I’m afraid Rollie’s condition is serious. It’s a good thing Leo found him when he did, or else his immune system would have been weakened – what with the dampness and the cold … his conditioned would have accelerated, and worsened.”
“Wait a minute,” Leo said, quietly. “What would be accelerated?”
The doctor’s smile faltered. “Rollie … appears to be suffering from some kind of drug reaction.”
Angie felt her stomach twist. Her voice was rough, and she spoke for the first time since saying hello to the doctor. “That’s not possible.”
The doctor frowned. “You’re not aware of Mr. Tyler taking any drugs at all? Would he have had reason to start?”
“No!” Angie stood, angry that the doctor could even suggest the idea. She pulled her coat tighter around herself, suddenly feeling very cold.
The nurse was suddenly at her side. “It’s okay,” she said, putting her hand on Angie’s shoulder. “I know it’s hard.”
Angie gritted her teeth. “But Rollie doesn’t – I mean he would never take drugs.”
The doctor glanced at Leo. Leo’s face was still difficult to read. The doctor turned back to Angie. “We found an injection mark on Rollie’s left arm. From a needle.”
Angie’s eyes lowered. She sniffed, hit hard by the doctor’s information.
Leo spoke again. “Setting that … aside. How is he doing? Can you treat him?”
The doctor’s smile was gone now. In its place was a mask of professional serenity. “That’s the problem. We often have rehabilitation treatments for these kinds of cases. But … in Mr. Tyler’s case, we don’t.”
Angie looked up. “What do you mean you don’t?” she said, hoarsely.
The doctor sighed. “I’ll have to be frank, Miss Ramirez. I can’t lie to you. Even with as much as I’ve seen – as we’ve seen at this hospital – we’ve never run into this kind of overdose case before. It must be a new drug on the street, or some new drug combination. Whatever it is, I pray to God I’ll never see it again.”
The words hung in the air for a long moment. Angie felt herself drawing inward, and the nurse moved closer to her, kneeling down on one knee. Finally, Angie couldn’t hold the emotions in. She grabbed Leo’s hand, and started to cry. “It can’t be,” she whispered.