Left for Alive

by Tom Hogan

  CHAPTER 47

  Donna and Josh and moved quickly through the emergency room, brushing past the inquiries of the nurse at the front desk. They spotted Cavanaugh at the end of the far court door—he was deep in conversation with a woman, and neither looked up as they approached.

  “Who’s that with Cavanaugh?” Josh asked.

  Donna squinted, then stopped. “Oh, no.”

  Josh slowed, then stopped. “Who is she?”

  “Barbara Heller. She runs the rape center here.”

  Seeing Donna and Josh, Cavanaugh and Barbara Heller paused their conversation as they approached.

  “She’s alive,” Cavanaugh said, forgoing the introductions. “But she’s had a rough time.”

  “What happened?” Josh said, his eyes moving back and forth between the two.

  “Best we can tell,” Cavanaugh said, “she was attacked by one of her customers.”

  “Raped?” Donna asked.

  Heller nodded. “Pretty bad.”

  “She didn’t go quietly,” Cavanaugh said. “There’s plenty of skin under her nails, as well as blood. If he’s in the system, we’ve got him.”

  “Is she going to be alright?” Josh asked Heller.

  “Like the lieutenant said, she’s alive. That’s the important thing.” At Josh’s frown she raised a hand. “That’s not a platitude—it’s the truth. Especially in a case like this, where she fought back.”

  As Josh moved past them, Heller stopped him with a surprisingly strong hand. “Let Donna go in first with me. We’ll bring you in when the time’s right.” When Josh started to object, she kept the hand on his chest. “Let me do my job, okay?” Before Josh could answer, the two women walked down the corridor.

  As the door to Alexis’s door closed, Josh turned to Cavanaugh. “Play it out for me, Wayne.”

  “What did Henderson tell you?”

  “That she’d been in an accident, to get down here as quickly as I could.”

  “We’d been trying to reach you for over an hour. I was about to send a unit up there to roust you.”

  “We were down here, gridding the town. We headed back up to the camp for reinforcements and the phone was ringing when we walked in.” He looked over at the door. “What’s her status?”

  “She looks like hell, but they don’t think anything’s broken. The internal damage is tougher to discern, at least initially, in cases like this. Right now, as Barbara will tell you, the critical components are the trauma and the next twenty-four hours.”

  “Any suspects?”

  “Not yet. I’ve got four guys on it, but we won’t be able to do much until she comes to and talks. And Josh, as much as you and I want to move this thing along, we take our cues—and our schedule—from the doctors and Barbara.”

  “Who found her?” Josh kept looking past Cavanaugh, at the door.

  “One of our patrols. Her car was on one of those feeder roads—one of those places that kids like to park. We probably drove by it a couple of times before the alert went out for a black Caddie.”

  “She say anything?”

  “Not a word. She was out cold when we found her. They called in her name from her driver’s license, but it didn’t mean anything to me. But I recognized the address, which is when we tried to reach you and I headed down here.”

  Josh nodded his thanks. “Is she awake?”

  “In and out. But here’s the thing, Josh: we have to treat this as two separate events, even though it’s clear that it’s rape. There’s evidence of vaginal trauma and the presence of semen. But technically she could have had rough sex with one person—before her shift, during it even. And the beating could have been a separate event altogether.”

  “Come on. You…”

  “That’s why we need to get her to talk. And the presence of men—even someone like you—might restrict that process. Got it?”

  Josh nodded again. “Anything I can do?”

  “Not until we see how she is when she comes to.” Cavanaugh nodded towards the door. “Your friend has gone somewhere inside herself to try and make sense of what happened. How—and when—she comes back, that’s her calendar. We have to respect that.”

  Thirty minutes later, Barbara Heller held the door open and beckoned to Josh. As he approached, she moved out of the doorway and let him take her place. “She may not recognize you. Or she may, but not want to respond. You’ve got to be ready for anything.”

  “Can she hear us?”

  “From my experience, yes. But whether she responds is another thing. There’s a part of her that’s holding back, trying to make sense of what’s happened to her. Maybe she does it with her eyes open, maybe not. Just be there for when it happens, is all I can say.”

  The curtain was half-drawn around Alexis’s bed, leaving her sheeted legs in sight but shielding the rest of her from view. As Josh moved into the room Donna came into sight, seated in an iron-backed chair, talking in a low voice and holding Alexis’s hand.

  “Here’s Josh, honey. We’re just going to stay with you for as long as you want.” She motioned to Josh to switch places with her.

  As he rounded the curtain, Alexis came into view. Her head was wrapped in an asymmetrical wind of gauze, her hair poking through the white. The bandage extended over one ear and was discolored by an orange-red stain. Her eyes were both blackened. One of them was completely shut, hidden behind a thick hood of blue and black skin. The other eye was less traumatized but closed. One cheek was cut—a fine line of red that ran from the middle of her cheek to a spot beneath her jawline, which had swelled without discoloring.

  Her mouth was open, moving slightly with each breath. The lips were swollen and raw despite the thin coating of Vaseline. The skin was split in two places—one on her upper lip the other in the lower corner.

  Donna gave Josh her place and Alexis’s hand. “Here’s Josh, honey.” The good eye opened for a moment, but it didn’t focus. Then it shut again and her breathing deepened.

  They switched off through the rest of the night and early morning, Josh leaving only to update the camp. Finally, around noon Alexis opened her good eye. She fixed it for a moment on the far wall, then turned it towards Josh, who was holding her hand, and on Donna, who was looking at her over Josh’s shoulder. As she smiled slightly, the crack on her lip opened slightly and a thin trickle of blood slid down her chin. Then she went back to sleep.

  Two hours later, she awoke. Blinking her eye repeatedly, she finally focused on Donna and Josh. Her tongue peeked through her heavy lips, wetting them slightly, then withdrew. She motioned to Donna for the water bottle. Donna bent the straw and placed it next to her lips. Alexis leaned forward and drank, first timidly, then a long, steady pull. Then she leaned back on her pillow and closed her eye for a second.

  After a moment, she sat up. Donna reached for the water bottle, but Alexis shook her head. “Donna,” she said in a strong, clenched voice, “I’ve got to talk to Josh for a minute about something.”

  Donna reached over and brushed Alexis’s mattered hair from her forehead, then she stood up. “I’ll be right outside,” she said, more to Josh than Alexis.

  As the door closed behind her, Josh took Alexis’s hand. “What do you need? Can I get you anything?”

  She shook her head. Then her eye bored in on him. “I need to tell you something.”

  Cavanaugh came out of Alexis’s room and motioned for Josh to follow. They walked down the hall, neither one saying a word. Cavanagh took a series of turns and stopped in front of a locked door. He took a key from his ring and opened the door, motioning Josh into the room.

  The room was sparsely furnished—a steel table and two folding chairs. Bars on the window. “Nice,” Josh said.

  “It’s where we hold perps who need medical attention before we take them in.” He motioned to one of the chairs and settled into the othe
r. “I’m sorry. For you, I mean.” He lit a cigarette and leaned back to exhale.

  Josh nodded. “Where do you want to start?”

  “Well, first off, it’s confirmed. We took his photo to the bar and they confirmed that he was the one who had them call a cab. Which argues against premeditation.” As Josh looked up, he continued, “If he was planning anything, there were less public ways to contact her.”

  Josh waved his hand. “Did you check his bank accounts—the stubs I gave you?”

  “He cleaned both accounts out first thing this morning. Over fifty K. That kind of money can buy you a lot of hiding.”

  “And now you want to know where I think he’d go.”

  “You’re the one who knows him best.”

  “Then we’re in trouble. Ever since Alexis told me, I’ve thought of nothing but why he did it and where he’d go. And I’m coming up blank on both.”

  Cavanaugh leaned forward. “Right now you’re beating yourself up, wondering how you could have let this happen. But—and I got to be blunt here, Josh—we can’t afford your guilt right now.”

  Josh waved his hand. “I’m not punishing myself, Wayne. Anyone says they saw this coming, they’re lying. Phoenix, the thing up here after the softball game—maybe he had us all fooled. Me, sure, ‘cause I’m his brother. But you and Donna—we all thought he was innocent.”

  “And maybe he was. But not this time.”

  “I know. But trust me—I’m not beating myself up. I’m just trying to predict the thinking and actions of someone who I’m realizing is a complete stranger to me.”

  “We’ve got the airports and trains covered. Any ideas where he’d go?”

  “He’s going to count on his charm. So stick to English-speaking countries. That means no Mexico.” He took Cavanaugh’s notebook and wrote in it, then turned it around. “That’s his agent’s name and number. Tell him that his client is wanted for rape and needs to turn himself in. And then, true or not, tell him we have an extradition treaty with Japan.”

  “What about guys from prison? Anyone he made friends with there who would help him?”

  “Not from his last stint, that’s for sure.” When Cavanaugh’s head came up, Josh just shrugged. “Trust me on this one, Wayne. If it’s a prison contact, it’s from Phoenix. But I don’t think so.”

  Cavanaugh closed his notebook. “Alright, look. I can keep this local for a couple of days. I’m telling the airports and trains who to look for and that it’s a hold-for-questioning. But after forty-eight hours it’ll go national—nothing I can do about it.” His eyes tightened on Josh. “I’m keeping this local as a favor, but if you think he’ll do it again, I’ll go national in the next hour.”

  Josh stayed quiet, his eyes on the table. Cavanaugh stubbed out his cigarette and lit its replacement. Finally, Josh looked up. “No. Let’s keep it local for now.”

  The hospital recommended keeping Alexis another two days, citing both shock and possible internal bleeding. Alexis, with support from Josh and Donna, had wanted to return to Moetown, but Barbara Heller counseled against it.

  “She’s saying all the right things,” she said that evening in the room set aside for her organization, “but I don’t trust the voice behind the words. It’s like she read a book on recovery and is imitating the healing symptoms.”

  “Couldn’t she just be an extraordinary case?” Donna asked.

  “Maybe. But you’re taking a chance, taking her home this early.”

  Donna looked at Josh. “What do you think?”

  He kept his eyes on the couch arm, picking idly at the fading upholstery. “If this were some stranger that did this to her, I’d tell you to trust what she’s saying. But this is someone she knew. And liked.” He kept staring down. “And trusted.”

  Barbara he stood up. “Let’s keep her at least another day, okay? Just to be safe.” She reached down to Donna and shook her hand. “I didn’t have a chance earlier to thank you for the shelter. It’s made a big difference already, women just knowing it’s there.”

  She turned to Josh. “Can you walk me to my car? Normally I’d call Security, but since you’re here…”

  As they walked down the hall, she said, “She’s going to need a lot of help. You know that, don’t you?” When Josh nodded, she continued, “Are you going to be able to give it to her?”

  “She’ll get everything she needs. We’ll take turns…”

  “I’m talking about you, specifically.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because in a situation like this, there has to be one person we call the primary care-giver. Someone she can say anything to, at any time, about what’s going on inside her. From my conversations with her, I’d say you’re that person.”

  Josh opened the door for her. “It was my brother who did all this. Doesn’t that exclude me?”

  “I’d have thought so, too, but hers is the opinion that matters. And right now she seems very capable of distinguishing you from your brother.”

  She looped her arm through his as they walked across the parking lot. The air was fresh, the heat wave having broken the night of the attack. “I can’t just exclude the rest of the camp. They’re her family.”

  “Don’t worry, they’ll get their chance to help, but it has to be on her terms and schedule. Except for one thing: even if she says she wants to be alone, there needs to be someone with her. So if you’re not up to it, give the job to Donna.”

  They reached her car. She reached into her coat pocket. “Here’s my card. Office on front, home on the back. Call if you need anything.” She released his arm. “I’m going to skip tomorrow’s release so that the process can start with you or Donna, whichever you decide.” She held out her hand. “Good luck.”

  Josh shook her hand. “You do good work.”

  She held onto his hand. “So do you. I followed your prison work when I first started in this field. And your book…we’ll never know how many assaults it’s prevented.” She released him. “One of these days, once we’re clear of all this, maybe we can get together and talk more.”

  Josh nodded, then looked past her at the hospital. “Maybe. Once she’s better.”

  The APB went out at four the next afternoon, with the wires on it within minutes. The Kinsella station, as well as the LA stations, led with it—the nationals showed more restraint, but all three covered it. With it being her first night back, Alexis had made an effort to come up to the L for happy hour. Along with the rest of the group, she was watching Cronkite when Paul’s photo appeared on the screen. When William jumped to his feet, she told him to sit back down, then watched the segment without expression.

  After dinner, she and Josh walked down to her cabin. They didn’t touch as they walked the grounds. Zeke followed them down from the L, hoping for a walk, but turned back when neither of them acknowledged him.

  She took a seat on her bed, her back straight against the headboard. Josh took a seat in the wing chair. Alexis pulled her knees up and stared at him over them. “I just want to get a few things said, okay. First, I’m not naïve—I know this thing is going to haunt me for a long while, maybe the rest of my life. But it’s not going to cripple me. Okay?” He nodded. “The second thing has to do with you. I don’t know yet how you’re going to do it, but you’re going to find a way to blame yourself for all this.”

  He started to speak, but she held up her hand. “I’m not being nice, I’m being selfish. I’ve got enough to deal with without you moping around, obsessing about what you could have prevented. Or foreseen. I don’t need that on top of everything else. Okay?”

  He opened his hands. “Okay.”

  “There’s one more thing. And it’s a big one. I want you to stay with me for a while. Sleep here.”

  “Here?” He looked around the cabin. “Okay,” he said uncertainly.

  She looked at him and almost smil
ed. “I know you’re not comfortable with this, but here’s the thing: your brother’s still out there, and that scares the hell out of me, no matter what Cavanaugh say. If it was a stranger who raped me…” She stopped. “That’s the first time I’ve said that word out loud.” A round, fat tear pushed out of her good eye. She jabbed at it with her palm. “If it was a stranger who raped me, I’d just ask Clark for Zeke and I’d sleep okay.” She nodded at the door. “But Paul could just walk in, slit my throat, and walk out, and Zeke’d just wag his tail at him. Because he’s family.”

  Josh’s eyes glistened, then pooled. Alexis looked over at him and raised her eyebrows. He smiled awkwardly and nodded.

  CHAPTER 48

  It was five days since the rape and Paul was still at large. The nationals had featured the story for the first forty-eight hours, but now only the locals and the Los Angeles stations were still leading with it and had reporters staking out the Kinsella and San Tomas police stations. Cavanaugh had warned his people that, while some of them might have had problems with the past activities of Donna and Josh, if anyone in the room disclosed their location to the press, it would be that person’s last day on the force.

  Josh came down to the San Tomas offices each morning at ten and sat quietly in the corner, monitoring the search and being available to answer any questions about his brother’s habits. He stayed until two, at which time he headed back to the camp and to Alexis.

  That night, as Josh was laying out his sleeping bag next to Alexis’s bed, she came out of the bathroom, wrapped tightly in a terrycloth robe, a towel around her neck, her skin pink from the shower. Josh, who had showered down at his cabin, moved the foam pad and sleeping bag so that she could get by.

  The sleeping arrangements were now settled, though Alexis had objected when Josh had shown up that first night with the bag.

  “What the hell are those for?”

  “For sleeping. Anyone comes in, they’ll have to step on or over me.”

  “Don’t be silly. It’s a big bed.” He just shook his head and began unrolling the foam pad. “C’mon, Josh. I feel bad about this. I invited you, remember?”