A Fountain Filled With Blood

“I’m not sure how to reach him. I gave him my number and asked him to call me. Of course, I haven’t heard anything yet.”

“Well, the hospital should update me on the situation at some point. I’ll let you know what’s happening.”

“Why would the hospital…” He watched her as the answer came to her. “Oh. If Emil dies, it’ll be a murder investigation.” He jerked his chin in assent. She compressed her lips for a moment, and they both fell silent. Finally, she asked, “Do you have any leads?”

“Not any worth jack-all. We lifted prints but didn’t get any matches. Paint flakes that are the most common red used by Chevrolet. Our best bet right now is finding a red Chevy vehicle that’s recently gotten some damage. I’ve got Noble checking out all the area body shops and auto-parts stores this morning.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. It’s not like Law & Order—we don’t always find the bad guy before the second commercial.”

“Russ…” She paused. “What if Ron Handler was right? What if it is a hate crime?”

“I sure as hell hope it isn’t.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know the real difference between an ordinary assault, if I can call it that, and a hate crime? The ordinary perpetrator is beating up on an individual. He’s mad, he acts on his feelings, and then he’s done with it. The perp attacking a victim because of the group he’s in…” He sighed. “He might not stop until he’s run out of people to hate.”

Chapter Six

“Okay, so you won’t forget that you’re going to pick up the candles and bring them over to Mom and Dad’s house.”

“I thought I was supposed to take them to the church.”

“No, Todd, you’re driving Aunt Sue and Uncle Bill to the church, and you’ve got to be there no later than eleven-thirty! You’ve got to have those candles at Mom and Dad’s in time for the florist to pick them up to take them to the church!”

“How come I can’t just take them to the florist’s and—” A rising screech cut him off. “Never mind. Never mind. I’ll have the candles to Mom by seven o’clock.”

“In the morning.”

“Of course in the morning! You know, there wasn’t nearly this much fuss when Tim got married. All I had to do was find a jacket and get there on time.”

“That’s because Tim’s a man. I’ve been dreaming about this day ever since I was a little girl! Everything is going to be perfect. It’s going to be a total fantasy come true.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what Princess Di thought.”

“Todd! That’s awful!” Her voice softened. “Someday you’ll meet someone—you know, someone special—and you’ll understand.”

“Yeah? Well…maybe. Look, I gotta run. It’s almost closing time, and the store’s a mess.”

“I love you, Oddball.”

“I love you, too, Fish Face. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“With the candles!”

“With the candles.”

Todd MacPherson understood the power of fantasy. He had viewed every single one of the movies for sale or rent in his video store, and, just like when he was a kid, they still had the power to sweep him away into another world, where people were better-looking, danger was an aphrodisiac, and problems could be solved in a two-hour running time.

His own problems were more intractable. As he methodically reshelved the returns and straightened racks jumbled by the usual Friday-evening rush of renters, he considered where he was going after closing up shop. Supposing, that is, he didn’t just crawl home and collapse in front of the tube. There was a little hole-in-the-wall bar in Hudson Falls, but he knew every guy who would be there on a Friday night, and he couldn’t stomach the thought of the same complaints and conversations he had heard a hundred times before. There was a bigger, more open place in Saratoga, where he might see some new faces, but that meant a forty-minute drive each way, an awfully late night when he had to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed the next morning for Trisha’s wedding. And to be perfectly honest with himself, he had never yet come up lucky there. The guys who paired off there were lean and tan and knew how to wear sweaters tied around their shoulders, if they looked rich, or military gear, if they looked sexy. Todd’s wardrobe consisted of jeans that bagged in the wrong way and T-shirts sporting old movie posters and film festival schedules.