Billie's Bounce

by Claudia Hall Christian

  He fell silent remembering.

  “I’ve heard it was the same in California,” Detective Ottel said with a nod. “But it certainly was like that for us.”

  He sighed.

  “Why was the senator in Aspen?” Ava asked.

  “Good question,” Detective Ottel said. “I don’t know if the FBI did, but we never figured out why he took the trip. He didn’t stay long — just a little more than 48 hours. His office said that he was there to meet with veterans, but we never found an event that he was invited to or that happened. His wife thought that he was meeting someone — possibly a man — for some sexual dalliance, but that never checked out, either.”

  “What did you find?” Ava asked.

  “The senator flew into Stapleton Airport in Denver with his detail of U.S. Capitol Police,” Detective Ottel said. “They drove up to Aspen, where the senator spent two days and flew home.”

  The detective shrugged.

  “The sheriff thought the senator came to get some plastic surgery,” Detective Ottel said.

  “No record of that, either?” Ava said.

  “It wasn’t like now where everyone shows off the ‘work’ they just had done,” Detective Ottel said. “Back then, it was shameful to have that kind of vanity. The clinics in Aspen catered to those who needed something confidential. Of course, the way he was killed? He could have had a gender change and we wouldn’t have been the wiser.”

  “Did he?” Ava asked.

  “Did he what?” Detective Ottel asked.

  “Have a gender change?” Ava asked. “I thought those were only legal in Trinidad, Colorado, at that time.”

  “You’re likely right,” Detective Ottel said. “I’m really just saying that we didn’t know why he was there. And. . . well. . . I’m going to be frank with you. You can tape it because most of the people are no longer living. But if it makes the papers, I’ll deny it.”

  “Fair enough,” Ava said.

  “My sheriff didn’t want me to investigate this much,” Detective Ottel said.

  “Why?” Ava asked.

  “He thought the senator got what he deserved,” Detective Ottel said. “There was a vote — just a few days before the senator took his mystery trip to Aspen — on whether Congress would fund the VA for the treatment of Agent Orange.”

  Ava looked at the man. He shook his head.

  “Senator William Michaud was the deciding vote,” Detective Ottel said. “No funding. Bastard. And people knew it. Everyday people on the street knew that Senator Michaud was the guy who was blocking funding that could help their friend, neighbor, or loved one. When he walked down the street in Aspen, people threw things at him. Spat at him. It was ugly.”

  Detective Ottel snorted with anger.

  “He told the press that the issues were simply too complicated for voters to understand. ‘We shouldn’t rush to a hasty judgement.’ Then the kicker — ‘these men’s lifestyles made them sick’ and even ‘who knows what they picked up from the whores in Vietnam?’ In his mind, men weren’t halfway around the world fighting a war they were forced into by the draft. Like they were off on a pleasure trip and their illnesses were because of it.

  “You have to understand.” Detective Ottel gave an angry shake of his head. “People were sick, and they got no help from the VA. Their families were bankrupt over the hospital bills. People were beside themselves with grief and worry. How could their soldier survive the horrors of war to waste away once they were home?”

  Detective Ottel shook his head. He looked away to try to contain his emotions. Ava waited. He sighed.

  “Anyway, the sheriff was like ‘good riddance,’” Detective Ottel said. “He said, ‘We have real work to do.’ So I did what I could on the side — that’s what’s in my journals and the photos — but it wasn’t much. The FBI investigated. Without local support? They didn’t get very far. It always seemed to me that they didn’t try very hard either.”

  “What about the Capitol Police who were killed?” Ava asked, shocked by the lack of attention from the FBI and the sheriff.

  “Exactly,” Detective Ottel said. “As you do this work, you’ll find that sometimes it’s just like that. Money. Resources. Time. We do what we can. A lot of times, we could do more, but we don’t.”

  Detective Ottel shrugged.

  “It’s good that you and your team are going back over these cold cases,” Detective Ottel said. “I’m sure you’ll catch things I didn’t catch. And, I’ll tell you — if you get other cases in these old mountain towns? You should think about the possibility that the sheer rage at the VA was involved in some way.”

  “Why is that?” Ava asked.

  “Everyone who came back to the states had to go through Fitzsimons,” Detective Ottel said. “Because so many people were against the war, a lot of people had no place to go home to. They stayed in Colorado. A lot of old PTSD guys crept into the mountains. Many of them are still there.”

  Detective Ottel nodded.

  “Do you think that the person who killed the senator killed other people?” Ava asked.

  “Like the Unabomber?” Detective Ottel asked before shaking his head. “There’s no way for me to know that.”

  Ava nodded.

  “How do you think someone knew the senator would be driving that road at that time?” Ava asked.

  “Only one road in and out then,” Detective Ottel said. “I always thought that they waited for him. They might have had to wait a long time, but the senator was going to come down that road at some point.”

  Detective Ottel fell silent. He seemed spent. Not willing to push it, Ava decided to end the interview. She switched off the recorder.

  “This has been very helpful,” Ava said.

  “I’ve enjoyed talking to you,” Detective Ottel said. “If you have other questions, I can come up or you can call. I’m happy to help, if I can.”

  “I will do that,” Ava said.

  “I hope Seth gets better,” Detective Ottel said.

  “Oh, you know, Seth,” Ava said with a grin. “The worse he looks, the faster he’ll heal.”

  “We should all be that lucky,” Detective Ottel laughed.

  Ava grinned at the man.

  “Do you feel able to get home?” Ava asked.

  “My son came up to the city with me,” Detective Ottel said. “He knows how upset this case makes me. He didn’t want me to come by myself. He’s just around the corner at the Art Museum. He’ll take me home.”

  Ava gave the elderly man a nod. When she looked up, she saw Nelson near the door again. She waved him inside.

  “Can you help Detective Ottel connect with his son?” Ava asked. “He seems to be at the Art Museum.”

  “Absolutely,” Nelson said. “I wanted to tell you that we’ve received everything. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day, so Fran and Leslie went home.”

  “Good,” Ava said.

  “I’ll go after we meet up with Detective Ottel’s son,” Nelson said with a smile.

  Ava smiled her thank you to him.

  “Come along,” Nelson said. “Let’s see if we can get a hot chocolate while we wait.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” Detective Ottel said. “With a little brandy to warm the bones?”

  “Is there any other way to have hot chocolate?” Nelson asked.

  He gave Ava a nod and helped Detective Ottel out of her office. She knew that they would land in the bar next door. For a moment, she thought about catching up with them and heading to the bar. Looking at the clock, she realized that the nurses’ shift had changed and that she could go back to the hospital to see Seth. She grabbed her backpack and left her office.

  As she always did, she toured the lab to turn off lights and make sure that all of the equipment was off. She stopped at the broken, moldy boxes belching evidence. Sighing to herself, she shut off the light and locked the door.

  Tomorrow was, indeed, going to be a long day.

  |-||-|||-||-|||-||-|||-||-|||-||-|||
-||-|||-||-|||

  Five

  Ava awoke with a start when her watch began to buzz. For a moment, she had no idea where she was.

  Then it hit her.

  She was in Seth’s hospital room. She’d fallen asleep after Seth was given the last of his meds. The meds were designed to knock him out completely since he hadn’t slept since he’d been there. Ava looked at her watch.

  5:00 a.m.

  She looked up to see Seth’s infection doctor enter the room. He was a resident, and, so, he worked all kinds of crazy hours.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Did I wake you?”

  Not trusting her voice, Ava shook her head. This was the man who had thrown her out of the hospital yesterday. She did not want to anger him today.

  “I brought you a peace offering,” the resident said. He held out a paper travel cup of coffee from the pricey place down the block. “Caramel latte. Maresol said it was your favorite.”

  “I have a shit day ahead of me, so,” Ava smiled, “thanks.”

  The doctor nodded.

  “I. . . uh,” the doctor said. He looked down at the floor.

  Ava looked up at his face.

  “He has sepsis,” the doctor said. “Unrelated to his bowels. As you tested for yesterday.”

  Ava nodded. The bullet that had entered Seth had perforated his bowels before imbedding itself in his hip. He’d had surgery in New York to remove the bullet and some of his bowels. To allow his bowels to heal, he’d been using a colostomy bag since that time.

  “I wondered,” she said, taking a drink of the latte.

  “We should have tested him,” the doctor said as he cleared his throat. “As you said. But. . .”

  “It happens,” Ava said, cutting him off. “I’m a forensic scientist. I run a lab. It’s my job to see things that my team doesn’t see. Well, that and order pipettes.”

  Her last sentence caused the doctor to grin.

  “Don’t think about it again,” Ava said. “What’s the new plan?”

  “As you suggested. . .” Again, the doctor blushed and looked at the floor. “. . . he is scheduled to have his bowels reconnected. They seemed to have completely healed, but they won’t know until they get in there if they need to do something else.”

  “And the sepsis?” Ava asked.

  “It seems to be related to an old wound,” the doctor said. “Possibly another bullet or maybe some shrapnel?”

  He said the last words as if they were a question. Ava nodded.

  “Anything’s possible,” Ava said.

  “You probably know this, but once the bacteria get in the body, they can attach to anything foreign,” the doctor said.

  “Like shrapnel,” Ava said.

  The doctor nodded.

  “Again, we won’t really know what’s going on until they get in there,” the doctor nodded. “But right now, the plan is surgery this morning for the bowels and the shrapnel. A heavy course of antibiotics. Test again tonight.”

  “Sounds right,” Ava said.

  “Good,” the doctor grinned as if Ava had given him high praise. “I thought you’d be mad.”

  Ava shrugged.

  “I worked at the FBI forensics lab,” Ava said. “You can’t imagine the rage when you don’t find something for an investigator.”

  “I bet,” the doctor smiled. “I wondered. . .”

  “Yes?” Ava asked.

  “I know Mr. O’Malley from his music,” the doctor said.

  “He would insist on you calling him, ‘O’Malley,’” Ava said.

  The doctor nodded.

  “I grew up in Indianapolis,” the doctor said. “My parents took me to see him. Twice. My dad played his Christmas music every year. It wasn’t the holidays until he played that album. I even have it on my phone. His album of lullabies is my son’s favorite. He won’t sleep without it. My wife is pregnant with our second child. She only has to put that album on, and the baby settles right down. Magic. Pure magic.”

  Nodding, Ava wondered where this was going.

  “I wondered. . .” the doctor said.

  “Yes?” Ava asked.

  “Why does he have shrapnel?” the doctor asked. “His body has a lot of healed injuries that. . . well, they make no sense. He’s a composer and a pianist.”

  “He’s been many things,” Ava said. “He was in the tunnels in Vietnam when he was just a kid. Beat cop and a detective for a few decades.”

  Ava shrugged. The door to the room opened and Seth’s father, Bernie, came in.

  “He wants to know why Seth has shrapnel and so many healed injuries,” Ava said to Bernie.

  “Our family believes in serving our country,” Bernie said with a nod. “Would you excuse me for a moment while I speak with Ava?”

  The doctor nodded his head and moved to check Seth’s overnight records.

  “Are you set?” Bernie asked. “Ready for work?”

  Ava nodded.

  “I showered at home,” Ava said. “Big day with some moldy boxes.”

  “Yes,” Bernie said. He held up a lunchbox. “Maresol made your lunch. Coffee?”

  Bernie gave Ava a travel mug, which Ava slipped into her bag.

  “The doc bought me a latte because I was right,” Ava said.

  She placed her empty caramel latte cup in the trash.

  “Of course, you were,” Bernie said. “Surgery today?”

  Ava nodded. The elderly man kissed Ava’s cheek.

  “I will let you know what happens,” Bernie said.

  “Thanks,” Ava said.

  Ava went to Seth’s bed. She kissed his nose and put her face next to his. A spontaneous tear sprung from her eye and wet his cheek. She pulled away. Looking down, she saw her tear on his face. She reached to wipe it away with her thumb.

  “Leave it,” Bernie said from behind her. “He needs all the love he can get.”

  She turned around and looked at her father-in-law. He gave her a soft smile. To keep from weeping, she gave Bernie a nod and said good-bye to the doctor. She walked down the eerily silent hospital hallway to the elevators. It was an easy trip down the elevators. Bernie had driven her car to the hospital. She found it easily in the parking lot and started toward work.

  She wiped her tears away before she drove into the Denver Police Parking Garage.

  “Hear you have a big mess,” the parking guard said.

  “When is that not true?” Ava asked.

  He snorted a laugh. Ava had been a Denver Police officer until they had turned the forensics lab over to non-police professionals. Most Denver Police treated her as one of them. She started to roll up her window.

  “Hey, how’s Seth?” the guard asked.

  Everyone in the Denver Police knew Seth from his years of service and continued support of the police charities. He was one of their own.

  “Better,” Ava said. “Surgery today. So you never know, but they think they know what’s going on now.”

  “Which is?” the guard asked.

  Ava knew the man was the source of all information and gossip. Clearly people had asked about Seth. She grinned.

  “Sepsis,” Ava said. “The doc wanted to know why he had so many healed injuries.”

  The guard laughed. Ava grinned.

  “Feel free to tell the network,” Ava said.

  “Roger that,” the guard said with a laugh.

  Ava drove into the parking garage and parked in her assigned spot. She grabbed her backpack from the back of the car and walked to the Denver Crime Lab. The elevators opened on her floor.

  People were moving from here to there. One of the empty labs seemed positively bursting with people in Tyvek suits. The chaos was so surprising to Ava that she lingered a moment too long. The elevator doors began to close. She just managed to press the open button and get out before the elevator shot off somewhere else.

  “What is going on?” Ava asked a technician who jogged out of the bathroom.

  “You’re Dr. O’Malley, right?” the tech
nician asked.

  “Sure,” Ava said.

  Even though she was not a PhD, she didn’t wish to delay the technician from his task.

  “Torres,” the technician said. “Vick Torres. Everyone calls me, ‘Torres.’”

  “Ava,” she said.

  “You had stacks of evidence in your lab?” The technician shrugged. “Dr. Parrish asked for help from the director. We jumped at the chance to work with your team. The director picked ten of us.”

  “Okay,” Ava said.

  The technician jogged down the hallway. He turned midway.

  “The night techs moved it to one of the empty spaces,” the technician said. “Your team’s waiting for you in your lab.”

  “Thanks,” Ava said with a wave.

  Six

  She looked at her watch. It was just six in the morning. Everyone was here early. Even Dr. Quincy was there early. Ava went in the office. The space where the boxes had been lying had been cleaned last night by the biohazard team. She could see her team sitting around the table in her office. She pointed to the biohazard tags. But Bob Parrish waved her into the office. Shrugging, she walked past the area and went into her office.

  “Biohazard?” Ava asked.

  “Black mold?” Bob grinned.

  “I can always tell black mold,” Leslie said. “Serious allergy. I didn’t smell anything like that.”

  “Shh,” Bob said. “Don’t tell the director.”

  Everyone laughed. Ava put her hand on Dr. Quincy’s shoulder.

  “We’re not leaving until tomorrow, so I thought I’d come in,” Dr. Quincy said, looking up at Ava.

  “It’s always great to see you,” Ava said. “Just watch your energy.”

  “I will,” Dr. Quincy said with a nod.

  Ava went to sit down at the table.

  “Dr. Parrish?” Ava raised her eyebrows. “What have you gotten up to?”

  “I removed all of the evidence out of boxes and have it sorted into what it is,” Bob said.

  “Any bio evidence?” Fran asked.

  “Some,” Bob said. “Lots of general ‘stuff.’ If we want to be thorough, we should take samples from of everything. Swab everything.”