Lovely Neighbor

By Louie Larson

McCaleb had seen her before she had seen him. He was getting off the main ship, crossing the mountains of the military wing, when he saw a woman standing on a chair in the sea of Follow Me. It was the bright color of a Saturday, the quiet whisper of spring sending many from their homes to the docks of San Pedro. McCaleb was arranging all the trips each morning - a full loop around Cabrillo Marina, along the breakwater and back. At this point he was a little tired, but he was slower as he approached. His initial thought was that of betrayal - the woman boarded the boat without an invitation. But as he got closer, he brushed that thought aside and wondered who she was, what she wanted

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publishdrive
• Release date: Jul 28, 2022

Book preview

Louie Larson

Lovely Neighbor

She doesn't use her default clothes for sailing. She defaults to a comfortable summer that reaches between her thighs. The wind rising from the water kept running at her speed and she had to press one hand to her hip to keep it still. McCaleb couldn't see her feet, but through the muscular outline of her tanned legs, he wasn't wearing beach shoes. She lifted. McCaleb understood immediately, she was here to impress someone.

McCaleb is corrosive so as not to make any impression. He wears ripped jeans because they've been worn for too long, not for style, wearing a shirt style from last summer's Catalina Gold Cup. His clothes are stained with concrete, mainly fish, and sometimes his own blood, hydrochloric acid, polyurethane resin and oil. This map is default to rating but also default all when repairing. This week, he will be editing the computer at sea, he is defaulting to the graphics set.

He began to become more conscious of his appearance as he approached and saw women more clearly. He pulled two music player sponges out of his ears and turned off the CD midway through I Ain't Superstitious in Howlin 'Wolf's voice.

What can I do for her? he asked before stepping into the sea himself.

Ready to startle her, stand in front of the sliding window into the adjacent hotel and turn around. McCaleb the item she imported onto the glass because she thought it was in there.

I'm looking for Terrell McCaleb.

She was an attractive woman in her thirties, a year or so younger than McCaleb. She looked extinguished, but he couldn't remember who. It's just like being used to, not really sure. At the same time, he feels like his memory is shaken for him to accept, but then the control is quick and he knows he relaxes, he doesn't know this woman. He often remembers people's faces. And her face is pretty enough for him not to forget.

She mispronounced the name, she should have said Maccalyp, she said Macca-class, and then she used it again to write his name on his piece of paper, a name that was not used except by the press. It was then that he began to understand. Time, he knew what brought her to the docks. Another lost soul in the wrong place.

McCaleb, he corrected. Terry McCaleb.

"Sorry.

I, uh, I thought you were in the boat. I don't know if I go to the sea and knock on the door, it won't work. "

She's still doing it.

She ignored the next words. Just like what she was doing and what she had to say, she had to practice over and over again.

I need to talk to him.

Oh, I'm a bit busy right now.

He pointed to the open pit door, possibly still the girl who didn't get in, pointing at the stack of tools he could get out on a screen by the stern window.

I've been walking around looking for this for almost an hour, she said. It won't be long. My name is Graciela Rivers, I just want to…

Hey, Miss Rivers, he said, raising his hands to stop him. Is it really me… Was it wrong that she read about me in the newspaper?

Nod nodded.

Okay, before she starts her story, I have to tell her that she is not the first person to come here looking for me or for my phone number that I call. And to all the others I say the same to her. I'm not looking for a job. So if it's about whether you want to hire me or ask me to help you in some way or another, unfortunately, I can't. I'm not looking for that kind of job.

She said nothing and he was pleased with her, just as he had felt with others who had come before her.

Hey, I know a couple of counselors, I can recommend them to her. This association is good, doing good business, they won't cheat you.

He stepped onto the stern of the boat, his glasses shadowing him as he walked, putting them on, gesturing them to talk. But his gestures and words were like water to her.

The article you are kind. Saying that every dragonfly he hates.

He stuck his hand in his pocket, shrugging.

She has to remember one thing. Never just me. I have collaborators, I have a testing team, I have the Department behind me to support me. The other is far from the type of single guy who does everything alone. Very much. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't help her.

She should first, he's done with her to understand, and for her this is the end. He started thinking about the valve on a campaign basis that he was working on, which he would work on to wrap up this weekend's content.

But he brought her back.

I think he can help me, she said. When also helps main his more.

I do not need money. I earn enough.

I'm not talking about money.

He looked at her for a moment before answering.

I don't know what you mean by that, he said, deliberately trying to be polite. But I can't help you. I am not a fit, nor am I a consultant. It would be illegal for me to work as a consultant or receive money without a state license. If she read the article, she knows what happened to me. I can't drive anymore.

He parked his car outside the dock and pier sequence.

You see that car covered up like a Christmas present? That's my car. It will be there again without my doctor's approval to drive again. When I come to this country, what other investigator am I still? Come and have to go by car.

She ignored his response, just looking at him with a determined expression that made him back away. He knew how to get her from the boat to here.

Let me go get the others names for her.

He circled her and opened the sliding window. Once inside, he closed the door behind him. He needs separation. He went to the drawer under the charting table and reached for the phone notepad. It's been too long since he's needed it, so now he doesn't know where it is. He went out the door, watching her walk to the stern, leaning against the small window while she waited.

The front a window with the antenna layer. She couldn't see him watching her. The extinguished feeling used his mind again and he tried to see where he met. He found her outstanding. The resulting eyes are both melancholy and joyfully colored while learning some secret. He knew that if he had met her or even observed her before, he would have easily remembered her. But he can't remember anything. His eyes involuntarily moved to her hands, searching for any rings. Not available. As for her slippers, he was right. She wears a five-year criss-cross made of cork, highly analytical. Her toenails are painted pink, striking against the soft brown skin. He asked if she always looked like this, or if she dressed like that just so he could take the job for her.

He searched the phone book in the second drawer, quickly searching for the names of Jack Lavelle and Tom Kimball. He jotted down their names and phone numbers on an old shipping company flyer and opened the sliding door. She was opening her wallet when he exited the hotel. He gave her paper.

Here are two people named. Lavelle is a retired Los Angeles detective, while Kimball was a former FBI agent. I used to work with both, people can work well for her too. Choose a person to call. Remember to protect him that she got his name because of me. He will take care of her.

She did not accept names from him. Instead she pulled a photo out of his wallet. McCaleb took the sword without thinking. He immediately recognized it as a false message. In his hand was a picture of a smiling woman watching babies fall asleep on a birth cake. McCaleb counted the candles. The first he thought was the image of Graciela when he was a few years younger than he is now. But then then got not to be her. The woman in the photo has a round face, thinner environment. She's not as pretty as Graciela Rivers. Although both have colored eyes, the eyes of the woman in the picture are not as beautiful as the eyes of the woman observing right now.

Your sister?

Must to. And child of it.

Who?

What?

Who died?

That question was his second mistake, aggravating the second because it felt more comfortable. As soon as he asked, he knew that he should have been sovereign, we got the names of the other two private detectives and everything here.

My brother, my sister. Gloria Torres. My whole family calls it Glory. This is Raymond, son of it.

He nodded and the reply photo was offered but she didn't accept it. He knew she wanted to ask what happened, but he couldn't hold back in the end.

Now, this isn't going to help, the last conversation. I know what she's doing. It's of no use to me.

It's he is not a man of the information must not?

He heats up in rage.

I apologize. You read the article, you know what happened to me. I've had problems in the past, so I can sympathize.

The guy is dry and tries to wipe away any unpleasant emotions. He knew she was suffering a crushing failure in aggravation. McCaleb had known hundreds of people like her. Loved ones are taken from them, because everything is gone. No arrests, no accusations, no destruction. Some of them are just life, their lives are irrevocably changed. Lost souls. Graciela Rivers time this is such a person. She definitely is, otherwise she wouldn't find a way to expand her accumulation. He knows, no matter what she says to him or how angry he gets, she doesn't need to be amused by his own bouts of frustration.

Come on, he said. I can't do that. IAM sorry.

He put a hand on her to let her lead her back up the steps. Yes, she is warm. He gets strong muscles under that software. The picture he handed over, but she still refused to take it.

Watch it again. Please him please. Just one more time, and I'll leave you alone. Tell me how does he feel differently?

He shook his hand and voted for a bachelor with just his hand as if to say whatever he wanted to say.

I'm a former FBI agent, not a psychic.

But he's still working. Hold up the photo. Woman and boy watch out for happiness. It's birthday. Seven candles. McCaleb remembers that when he was seven years old, his parents were still together. But after that, they didn't stay together for long. His eyes drew more light into the woman. He wondered how the boy would live without his mother now.

I'm sorry, Miss Rivers. In fact, I'm so sorry. But I can't do anything for her. Do you want this photo back?

I have two. You know, washing a present. I think he'll keep one.

For the first time he felt something hidden in the stream of emotions. There was something more systematic here, but he didn't know what. He looked closely at Miss Graciela Rivers and had the impression that if he took one more step, he would question the actual display, he was drawn to the electric pole.

He couldn't hold back.

Why would I want to keep the picture even though I won't be able to help you?

She smiled sadly somehow.

By it is the people Woman saved his life. Sometimes when I think back, he must have reminded himself of what she looked like, who she was.

He watched the cleaning girl for a long time, but he didn't actually look at Graciela Rivers. He is looking inside himself, rummaging through his memory and understanding what he just said, but still doesn't make sense of it.

What did she say?

That's all he asked. He has the power to test the feel of the negotiation and all sorts of different things can loosen up and slide across the train toward her. The line of the kia used to get his. It's taking you away.

She raised her hand, but glancing over the picture, he held out his hand to her. She placed her hand on his chest, running it down his chest, her fingers tracing the trail like thick code on the back of his shirt. He let her do it. He stood petrified for her to do.

Left your heart, she said. It used to be mine. It's his network manager.

It's up from after the Tai must be. Bonnie Fox. Always quiet, professional, makes us feel secure. Several lines slither like the solidity of a portable scope into the X-ray field of the monitor, tracing veins in the heart. He closed his eyes. He has a sense of jolt, a feeling they say we won't feel but we feel all the time.

Okay, you shouldn't feel this way, she said.

Must to.

Don't talk.

Then, there it is. Like the gentle tug at the end of a fishing line, a snapper doesn't give my answer lightly. He opened his eyes and saw that the magnifying glass, threaded like a fishing line, was still deep in his heart.

All right, she said. Ready already. Well done, Terry.

He saw her moved, even though he couldn't begin to look back at her. The endoscope was removed, and she applied a patch to the patch on his neck. The time holds his head at an uncomfortable angle, and he slows down his old voice, raising his hand to join his stiff muscles. Dr. Bonnie Fox's smiling face hung over his head again.

How do you feel?

Can't complain. Now everything is done.

Fine, I'll come check on you. I need to check the test results and come up with a lab model.

I have something to tell you.

OK. See you soon.

Minutes later, two of McCaleb's fire nurses came out of the angiography room and into the elevator. He does not favor the user to handle like a ravaged person. He can walk on his own, but it's against the rules. After a set period of delivery, the patient should always be kept in a horizontal position. Hospitals always have this content up to date. Cedars-Sinai seems to have more content than any other hospital.

They took him down to the timeline on the sixth floor. While the two nurses carried the cake along the east corridor, he progressed through the rooms of the possibly lucky and those waiting - employees who had been hired or were still waiting. . They crossed a screening room, and McCaleb entered an open window to see a young boy lying on his back, his whole body connected by tubes to a lung prosthetic machine. A transport man slouched on the other side of the chair, staring at the boy but seeing something else. McCaleb looked away. He knows the truth. The boy did not have much longer to live. The machine will only get you so far. Then the default man - his father, McCaleb guessed - would stare at a coffin with the same look.

Time, they have to the roomation. They transferred him from the gang to the gypsy leaving him alone. He braced himself for the wait. He knew from experience that it could take up to six hours for Fox to arrive, depending on how quickly the blood samples were checked at the lab and how long it took for her to rest for the results.

He is ready. The leather bag he once used to hold his computer and the countless files of work he handled was now packed with old magazines he had available for his working days.

Two languages later, Bonnie Fox walked through the window. McCaleb put down the ship repair book he was reading.

Wow, that's fast.

There are a few cases in the laboratory today. How do you feel?

My neck felt like someone's leg had been lit for two hours straight. Have you been to the lab?

YES.

What were the results?

It seems to be stable. Not deleted, every level seems stable. I am very satisfied. In a week, we can lower his prednisone levels.

She said while spreading the results of the user's tableware test and then reviewing the good results again and again. She was talking to the various combinations of carefully administered drugs that McCaleb took every morning and every night. On the final count, he took eight pills in the morning, up to six more. The medicine box above is not enough to hold all the pills. You have to use one of the quick storage items in the front.

Good, he said. I'm tired of shaving three times a day.

Fox folded the test results of the file clip away from the small desk attached to the inside. His eyes quickly skimmed over the question mark he had to answer each visit.

Absolutely no fever?

Absolutely not.

It is not focused.

Skip a little.

Through the repeated review of her questions to ask back and forth, he learned that news and diarrhea are two symptoms that only a newly transplanted organ can be transplanted. He takes his temperature at least twice a day, along with blood pressure and heart rate measurements.

The main indicators look very good. Do some research first.

She put down the board. Holding the stethoscope, before the woman was fit to lift it, she listened to the heart at three different points behind his back. He'll come back down and I'll listen through my chest. He measures his pulse by placing two fingers on his neck while looking at his watch. While doing so she stayed close by. She wore orange cologne, a scent McCaleb had always assumed was only found in older sisters. The but Bonnie Fox is not an important age. He looked up at her, examining her face as she looked at her watch.

Have you ever wondered if we should do this? he asked.

Don't talk.

Finally, she translated a few fingers that sang on his wrist to take his pulse there.

After that, she pulled the blood pressure cuff off the wall, put it on his hand to take the blood pressure reading, when she worked, she kept quiet. Good, she finished.

Good, he said.

Should we do something?

You still have the interrupt to reconnect an interrupted or forgotten game. She rarely forgot anything McCaleb told her. Bonnie Fox is a petite woman of McCaleb age, cut short prematurely. Her white coat was almost ankle-length because it could have been for a taller person. Embroidery on the breast pocket is an absorbing week of her expertise. Every time they meet, she always has busy times and events. She had that self-assured beauty and combination of necessity that McCaleb had always found so rare in doctors—and in recent years there have been many. He replied confidently and graciously. He likes you and trusts you. In his deepest thoughts there was a time when he wondered if he should one day put his life in a woman's hands. However, that quickly passed and only made me feel guilty. When it was time for a replacement, it was her smiling face that was the last, when they put him to sleep in preparation for surgery. By that time, there was nothing left in him. And it was her smiling face that welcomed him into the world, with a new heart and a new life.

McCaleb accepts the fact that the eight weeks since the change of time has not had a single hitch in his recovery, he is testament to the trust he has placed in her. For most. . During the three years since entering her office for the first time, a bond has formed between the two, a bond that transcends the professional system. They were good friends now, or so McCaleb believed. They ate together dozens of times, enthusiastically discussing countless times about everything from cloning to OJ Simpson's trial - McCaleb won her hundreds of dollars in court. At first, it was easy for him to see that her unshakable faith in the justice system had blinded her to what made this case so racist. I don't challenge you on second.

Regardless of the topic, McCaleb found himself fighting the opposite opinion of his sister who just wanted to socialize with her. Now, following that question, Fox looked at him as if to say she was ready for another duel.

Should we do this, he said, waving a hand as if to cover the entire hospital. Take out the viscera, replace it with a new one. Sometimes I feel like a modern Frankenstein monster, with other people's organs inside of me.

Another person, another part. We do not an importantization of the world.

But that's the important part, isn't it? You know that, I recovered, I still work at the Bureau, we have to take the test every year. Shoot that beer. And the best way to pass the accounting period is to shoot in the heart. Shooting the circle around the heart on the target will get more points than shooting in the head. It is called the decim ring. Highest Point.

Come on, if we're going to argue with 'are we acting like God' again, then I think we're past that point.

I shook my head, smiling at him for a few seconds. Finally the smile disappeared.

What's wrong?

I do not know. I feel guilty.

What, is it my fault that I'm still alive?

I know more details.

Don't be ridiculous. We have solved that as well. I don't have time for the three survivor sins. View, at here we have the options. Very simple. One behind you live, otherwise you die. That great decision. Is there anything wrong?

He raised his hands in surrender. She always mentions things in a well-defined context.

Typical, she said, unable to bear to withdraw. You spent most of the two years in adoration waiting for your time, waiting until your neck was almost unbearable, and now you're asking us if I should let you have that heart. What really makes you so cocky, Terry? I don't have time to talk nonsense with you.

He looked back at her. Gradually get the position of skill reading. That's what all the best agents and cops ever know. He worked on the project, then decided to say what was on his mind.

I certainly want to know why you didn't let me or the woman give me the result that I was under surveillance. Obviously, she was startled. The shock made his words clear to her face.

Assassinate? What are you saying?

She was assassinated.

How come?

I don't know for sure. She happened to be in that department store robbery in the Valley. Shoot to the head. If she's dead, I've already achieved the results.

You shouldn't have known anything about the time giver. How do you know that?

Because last Saturday my sister came to see me. She even told me everything... That kind of changes everything, you know?

Fox sat down sick, head on him. A Fatalance appeared on her face.

First of all, I have absolutely no idea where your time comes from. We know when we will know. It is to via CMN. We were only told that there was a match with the recipient group that we announced and were at the top of our list. It's you. You know how CMN works. He watched the movie during the tutorial. We don't know a lot of information, but that's it. What do we know, I told you everything. Woman, twenty-six years old, I remember. Perfect health, perfect blood type, a complete donor. 'Stop.

Then I apologize. I thought she knew, but she just refused to say it.

I do not know. We do not know. So if we don't know who it belongs to and where it came from, how will the other sister know to whom, where the heart has been transferred? How did she find you? This can be she we are going to the something here…

No. It's her. I know.

How do you know?

Last Sunday's article, 'What's going on with...' column in the Metro section of the Times. It says I realized the time on February 9th and I have to wait a long time because my blood type is very rare. She read the article and put it all together. She obviously knows when her sister died, knows the time she was donated, and also knows that she has a rare blood type. She was an emergency room nurse at Holy Cross Hospital, immediately thought it was me.

The but not have mean is you are bringing her time…

She has a letter I wrote.

Which letter?

"The letter that everyone later wrote. Unsigned letter to thank the donor family. The letter sent by the hospital. She has my letter. I looked over to receive my letter right away. I remember what I wrote.