and with his good arm, reach behind his back and pull his shirt back down.
By the time he got to the door of the cafe he was exhausted. He opened it to see Bethany sitting at a table by the large open windows which overlooked the patio. He walked to the table and sat across from her.
She looked up and their eyes met. He waited for the comment about his choice of outfit, but it didn't come.
"I'm here alone as you asked, Miss Walker. You had something to tell me about why you made that phone call?"
"I'm glad you could make it, Inspector," she said.
The waitress approached the table, with a note pad in hand, and came to an abrupt stop when she saw Bill. She looked him up and down. It was clear from her expression that she didn't much care for his appearance.
"What can I get you two?"
"If you can stop undressing me with your eyes, I'll have a coffee please...black," Bill said. He looked at Bethany who didn't respond to the waitress. He figured she must only plan on being there a short while, which suited him just fine.
He turned to the waitress and said, "That'll be all for now, thanks."
The lady turned and left toward the coffee bar without saying anything.
Bill refocused his attention on Bethany. She seemed rather flat and disinterested. He wanted to jump right to asking about Dr. Nelson, but thought that might alarm her. She didn't know they had followed her to Nelson's office earlier that morning.
"Bethany, why did you call 911 last night?"
She looked at him and shrugged her shoulders, without saying a word.
What? Why the Hell did you ask to meet me?
He rephrased his question. "You asked to meet so you could discuss why you called the police on your boyfriend. What would you like to tell me?"
Again she didn't say anything. Instead, she looked past him, out the open window.
"Bethany, was it a set up? Did Duprey have you do it, so we'd show up there last night?"
No response.
This is Bullshit! -- Change tactics.
"Would you like to tell me what you know about Dr. Barry Nelson?"
She looked at him, however, the reaction was unimpressive -- almost non-responsive. She hardly seemed to recognize what he had said.
This isn't getting me anywhere. What do I do now? I can't really arrest her with this bum arm.
"Bethany, I'm not getting the impression you're interested in cooperating. I'm afraid that if..."
Her phone made a chirp sound like a text or email came in. Her eyes came into focus on Bill, but she didn't move. She looked deep in thought.
The phone made a second chirp.
She looked down by her feet. On the floor beside the table, was a handbag. Her hand opened and she leaned to the right side of the table, toward the bag. When she couldn't quite reach, she moved her chair and pulled the bag in front of her, keeping it on the floor. She used her left hand to open the top of the bag and reached in with her right.
Why don't women clip their cell phones to their pants?
Bill watched her fish around in the bag. She seemed to be moving things back and forth in search for her phone. The bag was large enough that she was elbow-deep, reaching to the bottom.
She started removing her arm from the bag.
Please find the phone. I want to get on with this.
Bethany looked out the window behind Bill and started to stand up. Bill took a quick glance behind him and saw nothing noteworthy. When he turned back toward Bethany, she had removed her hand from the bag and was in the process of swinging it toward his neck.
Reflexes took over and he ducked, but not before he caught a glimpse of the blade she held in her hand.
A knife!
He tried to raise his arm to fend off the blade, but it was on his right side and his arm wouldn't come up. He felt the blade across the side of his neck as he twisted to get out of the way.
Bill stumbled out of his chair and onto one knee. The pain in his shoulder made him lightheaded, but he knew he had to move. He looked up to see the blade slicing through the air toward him again. He dropped from his knee to the floor, rolling onto his good arm. He brought up his right foot to kick outward as he felt a sudden pain in the side