Chapter Four
Looking at Asia, Michael Jewel’s green eyes danced with what could have been anger or amusement. “I stand corrected, Miss – I will need your name and phone number, please.”
Reggie’s voice was clear and loud as he walked toward the officers, “We don’t have to give you any information, Detective. Asia, don’t answer him.”
Asia snapped, “I won’t! We have our rights. You don’t know if any of us were at the murder scene. You can’t come in here and demand information!”
Jewel blinked in surprise. She didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would refuse to answer police questions. Walking to the table, the detective leaned over Asia, picked up the Oregonian and slapped it in front of her with a crack. “This woman died in a dirty bathtub. Some psycho stabbed out her eyes, took them, and left her there. We’re asking around here because she was a hooker and we want any piece of evidence we can find,”
“I’m sorry, but you just assume this guy is one of us street people.”
Jewel eyed Asia and said, “You don’t look like a street person, lady. We just want to cover every possibility.”
“Please do not categorize me, Detective,” Asia said through gritted teeth, “I was homeless for three years and I am not ashamed to talk about it.”
Asia hated being the center of attention and now her rigid posture told the detectives she had enough of their cop games.
Jewel stepped to the door and motioned to Bristol. He didn’t want to alienate these people, he might need them later. He would let her win this one. “Ma’am, I’m sure if we have any more questions, we can call here for you?”
Asia’s gaze flashed to Reggie, who said without thinking, “If you have further questions, you’re free to call here and someone will have Ms. Trent call you.”
When he was sure the cops were gone, Reggie touched Asia’s shoulder lightly, offering her his strength. Usually not welcoming anyone’s touch, Asia was grateful to her editor. She didn’t stop trembling for several minutes. Reggie told her to go home and Asia gladly accepted the offer.
Sitting at her fourth- floor window in the crumbling Ashford, Asia watched the crowds ebb and flow, drug dealers slithering about their trade. Business as usual, no sign that anyone had just died violently and alone. No marker of remembrance left on the day for Dorie Anderson.
A sudden twinge of pain in her jaw brought Asia to her feet. Not again, not today, please. Sometimes if she kept very still the stabbing pains would recede. There were pain pills in a green bottle on the microwave. Just acetominophine from the drug store. Stifling moans of pain, she shook out two tablets and downed them with ice water she had been drinking.
Asia hadn’t thought about the affect of the icy cold water on her jaw, so when the savage grind made things worse, she made her way to the bed and collapsed.
If only it was a bad tooth, she could have had it removed, but it was a small bone sliver driven into her jaw when Brian had cracked her jaw during one of his rages.
Infection was the real problem and Asia had no health insurance. When she could no longer tolerate the pain, she called her social worker, James. He had once told her there were dentists who did work at a low cost, or sometimes did dental work free for indigent patients. Asia was about to add “indigent” to the list of labels hanging from her shoulders.
After writing down the information from James, Asia let herself fall heavily back onto the bed. With the impact of her body, she felt the pain stop…not slow, stop. She had been told the sliver of bone was loose in her mouth and would move around and maybe the fall onto the mattress had jolted it loose. It didn’t matter, the pain had stopped, just short of swallowing her insanity whole.
Clutching the sweat-soaked paper with the dentist’s phone number, Asia made herself call. She hated dentists, never had dental care as a child and during a routine root canal at age thirteen, Asia went into septic shock and almost died. But she wanted this dentist to fix the problem, because the pain always came back. A treachery she could no longer bear.
Dr. Bennet was the dentist’s name, and his address was in a toney building in the “good” part of Portland. She had an appointment for the next afternoon. She lay back down and napped fitfully.
Asia was startled awake by the insistent ring of the doorbell. Drowsy, she called out, “Not now, go away!” Then she heard a voice through the door.
“Asia, honey, it’s Paulette.”
Asia shuffled to the door, opening it just enough to peek out. Paulette said, “Hon, I know you like being left alone – but, well, here.” She was holding out a small brown paper bag.
“What, what is it, Paulette?” She fought to keep irritation out of her voice.
The older woman blushed. “Well, some detective who said he talked with you this morning about that awful murder, I mean who would do …”
Asia interrupted, “Come on in, hon.” Knowing Paulette would talk all day if she could, Asia figured it was easier to let her in. “What is it, Paulette?”
“He asked me to give this to you.”
“Asked or demanded?”
“Oh, he was real nice. Said he owed you this – it’s ice cream, chocolate.”
Asia stared at Rose as if she had not understood a word the woman had said. Paulette held the bag close to Asia, whose hands fluttered around the bag. Ice cream? Why would a cop be giving her ice cream?
