CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

 

 

Henry pulled the car out from the drive and made a left onto the main road. He still had the smell of wet, charred wood, murder, and arson burning his nostrils. Luna wept quietly. They drove in silence for about five minutes and pulled into the first gas station they saw. The attendant, an old man with an oil stained rag in his back pocket, came out to meet him.

"Hey there, old timer, you got a phone?" Henry said.

"Sure, but it's for customers. You buying any gas?"

Henry handed the man three bucks and went in to use the phone. His first call was to the fire department. Nobody had noticed the fire before he and Luna had gotten there, or emergency personnel would have been on the scene.

He then called the hospital. They told him Mike had gone home that morning. Henry looked out front; the old man was cleaning the windows and eyeing Luna. Henry made one more call. "Hey, Mike," he said when he heard a voice on the other end.

"No, this is Joe. Mike is in the kitchen. Who is this?"

"It's Henry Wood. Do you mind putting him on? It's important."

"Sure, I'll get him."

Henry heard the phone being set down. From what he could hear, Mike must have gotten a welcome home party. A few moments later, he heard someone hobbling towards the phone.

"Henry, how is it going?" Mike said in his once-again familiar and booming voice.

"Not so good, my friend, but before I get to that, how are you doing?"

"I am on the mend. Still got the arm in a sling, but the bruising has gone down, the headaches have stopped, and I am itching to get back on the beat. They tell me I have to rest for two more weeks."

"I am glad to hear it, buddy," Henry said with no small amount of relief in his voice. He needed some good news, and Mike's made Henry feel a little better about bothering him.

"Thanks....now tell me what is up?" Mike said. He lowered his voice and changed to a serious tone.

"I need to see you. I need to see you now. May I come over?"

"Sure thing, Henry. We can talk in the back if it needs to be private," Mike said.

"Thanks...on my way," Henry said and hung up the phone.

He returned to the car and thanked the old man. Henry took Luna's hand as he pulled out of the station. "Don't worry. I have a plan."

She squeezed his hand and smiled. She had stopped crying and was trying to steady herself. The rest of the drive to Big Mike's house passed without a word between them.