Tampa Star (Blackfox Chronicles Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

delivered his arrest paperwork: several documents including the record, a property receipt, and order to be held without bail, all nicely held together with a small metal clip.  Jimmy wasn’t a religious man, aside from having spent three years as an Altar Boy, his mother thinking close association with priest would enhance his behavior, when all it did was give him ready access to communion wine and a few extra bucks to buy cigarettes when he attended to  weddings and funerals .  But, the coincidence of receiving exactly what he needed to pick the lock on the cuffs made him thankful; he was just not sure who to thank.
    That night as Tubby snored peacefully away, Jimmy reached over to the tray holder and slipped the paperclip off of the arrest documents with his free hand.  Holding the paperclip in his restrained hand, he straightened one of the ends of the clip, inserted it in the keyhole and turned it several times until he heard an audible click.  The racket released and he slipped the cuff off his right hand.
    He studied the IV set up for about two or three minutes before deciding how best he could unhook himself without detection. He choose to pull the IV needle out from the other hollow tube that was inserted into his forearm, as he figured it would be easy to reinsert it upon his return.
    Jimmy silently slipped his legs out of the sheets and lowered them to the floor—it felt cold on his bare feet.  He shuffled across the floor to the door, opened it a crack, and peered out.  The hallway was dark and quiet. He could just make out a light at the end of the hallway to the right that he assumed was the nurse’s station.  He stood there quietly listening and heard a soft female voice talking. He heard no one answer her and assumed she must be on the phone. That held promise as if he could get to a phone; he could get out of here, definitely not tonight, but maybe in a day or so. 
    He also heard the low murmur of a television playing the theme music of that late night show that had someone in it called Johnny.  Jimmy slipped out the door and across the hall to the same side as the nurse’s station, his bare ass to the wall as he slowly sidled down the hall. 
    As he approached, the sound of the woman’s voice and the television growing steadily louder, his heart was beating so powerfully he was sure it was audible. As he continued moving, he felt the hallway wall open into a doorway alcove off his right shoulder.  At about the same time he spied his figure dressed in a hospital gown displayed on the large convex security mirror hanging above the nurse’s station.  He quickly backed into the alcove, blocking his reflection and waited for a scream or shout. When none came, he turned and felt for the doorknob, then twisted it slowly clockwise; opened it slightly and slipped inside. The door was solid wood, so he felt around for a light switch on the wall and turned on the light.
    He was in an office, apparently for the daytime nursing supervisor as evidenced by the nameplate on the desk. Next to the nameplate sat a desk lamp and a black telephone. He turned on the desk lamp and then switched off the overhead light, approached the telephone, lifted the receiver from its cradle and listened for a dial tone. She answered on the fourth ring, given the fact that it was probably around 3 a.m., he was thankful she answered at all. 
    “Hello?” She said tentatively, almost as if she knew that most bad news came during these hours.
    “Brenda, it’s me, Jimmy, listen, I need your help,” he whispered.  He went on to explain that he was in a hospital in a small town on the north side of Lake Pontchartrain. 
    He hung up the phone and quickly searched the desk. He found little and then his eyes focused on a wooden cabinet with glass doors that stood against the wall.  Two large red crosses were painted on the doors.  Jimmy tried the door and found it locked. He went back to the desk and searched it, finding a