Read Online No Hope for Gomez! by Graham Parke - Free Book Online

X-rays were clean; no damage to the neck.”
    “Shouldn’t we double check?”
    “There’s no way, I’m afraid. The body’s no longer here. Again, you’d have to ask the coroner.”
    “I guess that’s what I’ll do.” I thanked Dr. Tiernan for his time and remembered to look solemn when he offered his condolences once more.
     
    Blog entry: Left the hospital, dug out my cell phone, called Detective Norton. If anyone knew what the coroner had discovered, it’d be him. His phone rang five times, then went to voice mail. I left a message.

15.
     
     
     
    Blog entry: Grabbed a quick sandwich at a deli on my way back from the hospital. Staked out the clinic, waiting for Dr. Hargrove to show. Started to feel silly. Stalker-stalkers (much like actual stalkers) probably didn’t conduct their business out in the open like that. They’d be more private about it. Plus, standing in front of a building, then not meeting up with a woman, but instead following her home at a distance, that’d make me look like I was on a really awkward date. And the last thing I wanted was to look awkward in the eyes of total strangers.
    So I moved behind a tree.
    After a while, though, it occurred to me that Dr. Hargrove might spot me as she passed the tree. When she did, she was bound to lose confidence in my stalker-stalker abilities. She might even seek help elsewhere. So I darted back to a newsstand to get a newspaper and a pair of dark glasses. Then, in order not to look like ‘Gomez waiting behind a tree with a newspaper and a pair of dark glasses’, I also turned my jacket inside out and bought a small pocketknife with which to cut off the lower parts of my pants legs. The pocketknife had to be procured from a vendor down the street, however, as my own vendor had run out of pocketknives moments earlier. Finally, jacket turned inside out, glasses donned, newspaper in hand, and pants legs sufficiently mutilated, I returned to my tree, safe in the knowledge that I might not look exactly normal, not totally inconspicuous, but I certainly didn’t look like Gomez. Which was my main goal for the moment.
     
    Blog entry: It was a bit dark behind the glasses; evening was beginning to fall. I resolved not to do any actual reading, and that made me feel better. Before long, I noticed it also became too dark to spot passers-by without peering over the glasses. So I adopted a strategy of counting to ten and lowering my glasses on the ten-count. I also implemented five other, highly sophisticated spotting algorithms, but perhaps it suffices to mention that I managed to miss Dr. Hargrove completely.
     
    Blog note: Guess stalking isn’t my knack either. Which is too bad, but it won’t deter me. I’ll just have to work harder at it, that’s all.
     
    Blog entry: Went home. Had dinner. Watched TV.
     
    Blog entry: Wondered about the experimental drugs interacting with airborne chemicals and leaving me unexpectedly dead.
Decided not to clean the bathroom.
     
    Blog entry: The next day was uneventful. Sold a few items but nothing expensive. Hicks muttered and complained but eventually found something halfway interesting to do. Couldn’t wait for the day to end so I could get back to stalker-stalking.
     
    Blog entry: Appeared behind the tree in a fully functional disguise. A disguise I’d worked on for the better part of the afternoon. Spotted Dr. Hargrove just after 7 p.m. and followed her home. This time without problems. On my way I pondered how this success had actually come at the expense of a perfectly good pair of pants. Decided all was not lost. I could probably claim the money back as soon as Dr. Hargrove and I were involved in a serious relationship. We’d go to a restaurant, where she would say something like; W ant to pick up that check, honey? And I’d say; Nope, why don’t you pick up that check and add another fifty bucks while you’re at it, as I ruined a perfectly good pair of pants on your behalf.
    Resolved to write the