Fatal Consequences - Episode 1
by Judy Cole
Jo-Jo wakes up in a hospital recovery room in the dead of night.
Feeling up to a few questions, Miss Avery?
Do I know you?
Sorry. Detective Dylan Quinn. You’ve been in an accident.
Heavily bandaged and sedated, Jo-Jo struggles to grasp the situation.
What kind of accident?
We found your car at the bottom of Grange Ravine.
I don’t remember.
You’re lucky to be alive.
Thirsty…I’m so thirsty.
Jo-Jo reaches for a carafe on the bedside table, only to realize she’s handcuffed to the bed.
Your friend Mr. Forrester wasn’t so lucky.
Forrester?
James Lawrence Forrester, according to his license.
I don’t…didn’t know him.
His body was practically on top of you in the wreckage.
He died in the accident?
He died alright, but it was no accident.
He was shot.
Quinn shows Jo-Jo his badge: “Homicide Division.”
And YOU shot him.
What?! No!
Don’t give me that crap. You killed him.
I don’t remember…I don’t own a gun.
Which is it, Miss Avery — you don’t own a gun or you don’t remember?
I…I don’t know!
Detective, what the hell are you doing in here?
Questioning my prime murder suspect. What does it look like?
She looks like my patient, and she’s in no condition to answer anyone’s questions.
She’s alert, and for my money, she’s guilty.
Too bad your currency’s no good here.
But—
No buts. Get out. Now!
Quinn storms out, slamming the door.
Doctor?
Nice to see you awake, Miss Avery. I’m Dr. Luther Dante.
Will I be okay?
It was touch and go, but you’re stable. No broken bones.
You had a couple nasty gashes, but I did everything I could to minimize any scarring.
Thank you, Doctor.
Do you remember anything about the crash?
No. Nothing.
There was a man in the car with you.
Detective Quinn says I killed him.
Did you?
I honestly don’t know. I have no idea who he was.
Well, don’t worry about that now.
Doctor, can’t you take these handcuffs off?
I’m sorry. I wish I could. Quinn got a court order.
I’ll see about getting it vacated in the morning.
Thank you, Dr. Dante — for everything. I’m pretty tired.
Of course. Get some rest and I’ll check in later.
If the pain gets too bad, just ring for the nurse. No heroics, okay?
Yes, doctor.
Dr. Dante steps into the corridor, closing the door behind him.
Did our little bird sing?
Not a note. She says she doesn’t remember.
Is she faking?
Possibly, but she took a significant blow to the head. The amnesia could be real.
Or she’s a very good actress.
I implanted the chip in her shoulder during surgery.
Any chance she’ll find it?
If she’s looking for it, maybe.
It’s not much bigger than a grain of rice, but there’s a little swelling at the injection point.
GPS working?
Already tested it. Loud and clear.
I told her she shot Forrester.
He wasn’t shot. The crash killed him.
Thought it might give me some leverage.
I noticed you were going pretty hot and heavy with that “bad cop” routine.
Well, I figured it would help prime the pump for your “tender bedside manner.”
Maybe so, but I can tell something’s up with you. Spill it.
I guess I don’t like using her this way—
She seems like a good kid who got mixed up in some seriously bad shit.
They always do. What’s really bothering you?
Nothing.
Oh for chrissakes, man. You can’t say it?
She looks just like Claire Noble. They could be twins.
Okay, I’ll grant there’s a resemblance, but—
But nothing. You loved Claire. You lost her. The sniper was a wild card.
I was supposed to protect her, damn it!
There was nothing you could have done. You were Secret Service. Not god.
Yeah.
So what have we got so far?
Forrester contracted Jo-Jo to orchestrate and record that little S&M scene with Senator Leighton.
Looks like someone really wants to knock him out of the running.
Funny how a man with such a splendid presidential pedigree is a total mutt when it comes to sex.
He wouldn’t be the first.
True.
So, Forrester hired Jo-Jo, but we still don’t know who hired Forrester.
Any candidates?
Some viable possibilities, but no one stands out.
Too bad. What’s our next move?
She’s hidden the recording somewhere close by. But she’s good—
According to her profile, she’s a surveillance whiz.
We could be looking for almost anything.
Well, Forrester didn’t have it on him. We went over every centimeter of that cadaver.
Find anything else?
No. Just the hairpiece, colored contacts, and an elaborate fake tattoo on his hand.
His own mother wouldn’t have known him.
Accounts for his meltdown at the diner.
He wanted to be remembered.
Or misremembered…Okay, I’ll check Arlo’s.
It’s a big place.
I’ll try her locker first. Maybe plant a backup tracker for insurance.
Good idea. I’ll keep you posted on things here.
Quinn exits and Dante steps back into Jo-Jo’s room. The handcuffs are dangling from the bed railing.
Jo-Jo has vanished.
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