When the Night Calls

by Rashad Freeman

  "Everything okay?" she asked.

  "Yeah, I'm fine."

  Monica tilted her head to the side and wrinkled her face. "You look, you look disheveled."

  "Did you learn a new word today?" Daniel asked with a laugh.

  "I'm serious. Did you have another dream? When's your next session with Ned?"

  "Monica, I'm fine. Don't worry about me," Daniel replied defensively before rushing into the bathroom.

  Monica wanted to say something else, but she let it go. Daniel usually got a bit annoyed whenever she brought up Ned, Daniel's "therapist." So, grumbling under her breath, she left the room.

  The sting of the shower was reviving to Daniel. The water peppered his face bringing him back to reality. He stood with his head directly in the stream, letting it wash away any trace of his dark memories.

  The thought of his child and baby shopping made him smile. That's what he was now, a husband and soon to be father. His refreshing shower was short lived however as the doorbell rung announcing Tom’s return.

  "Damn it," he grumbled then turned off the water and grabbed a towel.

  Stepping out of the shower, he patted his face and shook his head like a wet dog. He reached for the door handle, but suddenly it swung open. Monica grinned from the other end, twirling his keys in her hand.

  “I hope that friend of yours doesn't start rubbing off," she snapped.

  "What?"

  "Tom says thanks.” Monica cocked her head to the side and set the keys next to the sink. “He was in a hurry…him and the blonde he drove off with.” Monica paused for a second and bit her lower lip. “So um…how far back do you two go?”

  Daniel grinned and wrapped a towel around his waist. “Not that far,” he mumbled then walked into the closet and started to get dressed.

  Ten minutes later they were on their way to the first of several baby shops. Daniel sighed as he left the jam-packed surface streets and pulled onto the Claiborne Expressway. Rays of light beamed through the sunroof as the sedan cruised down the road. Monica tapped her leg and hummed, her eyes fixated on the sweeping landscape.

  Baby shopping had become Monica’s new thing. Since the moment she’d learned she was pregnant they’d spent every weekend stocking up on baby supplies. All this shopping would normally bug Daniel to death, but he was simply overjoyed with the thought of having a child.

  “Store one of one hundred,” Daniel said as he pulled the car into the tight parking space.

  Monica made a hissing noise and wrinkled her face at him. Shrugging, Daniel reached into the back seat to grab his jacket. He paused and glanced at a small pile of condom wrappers.

  "Asshole," he grumbled.

  “Tom doesn’t know the sheriff, does he?” Monica asked as she glanced backwards to see what Daniel was looking at.

  “I don’t think so, why?”

  “Well I didn’t get a good look, but I could’ve sworn that was Sherri that took him home this morning.”

  “Jeez, that lady gets around."

  Monica scowled at him and shook her head. While Sherri was no angel, Monica hated how everyone made her out to be so trashy. She always tried to find some redeeming quality for her. Daniel was convinced she was the town tramp.

  “Be nice, Daniel,” Monica said then stepped out of the car.

  The day progressed quickly and before Daniel knew it, it was already two o'clock. The sun blazed high overhead like a spotlight, but did little to warm the chilly air. Tourists and locals flooded the streets, making shopping a bit more than a headache for Daniel.

  As they entered their fourth baby store, Daniel was yearning for the cold touch of a scalpel. Monica however, was concerned with ensuring that she got the perfect hue of green for the baby’s room. So far no one carried the image that stuck in her head. Daniel was sure this “hue” didn’t exist, but he’d be damned if he told that to Monica. She had a special talent for finding what she wanted, whether it was real or not.

  “Can you take off work tonight? I really wanted to spend some time on the baby room,” Monica softly asked as she fumbled through her purse.

  “Sure, Victor will be excited to be left alone. He’s been trying to convince Jackie to let him augment her. And I don’t think he means surgery.”

  “Victor is such a shrewd little skirt chaser. No wonder Cynthia left him,” Monica scathed as she rolled her eyes.

  “No comment,” Daniel laughed.

  Cynthia and Monica had been friends for some time and she didn’t approve of Victor’s immoral behavior. She acted as Cynthia's confidant during their ugly break-up and grown even closer. So, the fact that Cynthia moved away just before the divorce made Monica hate Victor even more.

  “Well, Victor really is a detriment to all men. A fat, no good, unfaithful, opportunistic piece of trash,” Monica snarled.

  “Cynthia was no Saint either; just up and leaving with some guy from France. I could only imagine if the judge had awarded her what she was asking for."

  “I get it, Daniel, man’s code and all. I’m sure you’ll never say a bad word about the tubby little man. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a pig with a capital P,” Monica proclaimed.

  Daniel smiled, conceding to Monica’s assessment. He knew better than most, what kind of pig Victor was and he was certain Monica hadn’t scratched the surface.

  “This is the last stop,” Daniel demanded as he pulled the black BMW onto the gravel filled parking lot of “Babies, babies, and…babies.”

  The small, white building was very unassuming, but according to one of Monica’s friends this was by far the best baby shop in town. Why this wasn’t their first stop certainly puzzled Daniel, but he didn’t dare raise the issue with his pregnant wife.

  They entered the store and found the cashier in a trance staring at a small tube television. The bell rang as the door swung closed and she looked up, nodded then returned to the TV.

  “She’s nice,” Monica whispered.

  Daniel gave her a little push on the back and she giggled. They headed down the nearest aisle and began their search.

  “Ha, right there, look it’s the color!” Monica yelled.

  Daniel put on his best surprised face and clapped his hands together like a cheerleader. Rolling his eyes, he swallowed back the fact that it was the same color they’d seen at seven other stores.

  “Just the paint,” Monica said as she sat the can down at the register.

  The cashier ignored her. She was gazing at the television with a blank look. Her lips smacked loudly as she chewed a piece of peppermint gum and tapped her fingernails on the counter.

  “Miss, the paint, I’d like to buy it,” Monica growled impatiently. “Hello!” she snapped and pounded her hand on the counter.

  “Haven’t you seen this?” exclaimed the cashier as she turned to face them. “Two bodies found early this morning or at least the body parts they could identify. They found them down the road near that bar on Belle Chase.”

  Monica put her hand over her mouth and gasped. Daniel took deep breath, feeling a strange twinge at the base of his spine. Together they slid over to look at the small TV sitting on the counter.

  The distraught sheriff stood behind a podium, addressing a swarm of reporters. Bold red letters scrolled across the bottom of the screen that read “Morbid scene discovered near Whistling Joes.”

  Daniel had an uneasy sensation in his stomach, the kind you get before taking a giant plunge out of an airplane with no parachute. The hairs on his arms tightened and the slight dizzy spell that normally accompanied anxiety washed over him.

  Monica glared at him with a look of concern. "You ok?" she asked lowly.

  “Whistling Joes, the um bar down there, near the office,” he leaned over and whispered into her ear. “I met Victor down there for drinks last night. Ran into Lawson too.”

  Monica gasped and looked him in the eyes with an ill guise on her face. She began to nervously fumble with her hair and breathe deeply. Daniel started to say s
omething else, but paused as the News announced that they had identified the bodies.

  “The remains have been identified as Doug Monroe and Cindy Gastry of St. Bernard parish,” a blonde-haired lady wearing a red suit announced. “The sheriff’s office hasn’t provided us with many details, but what we do know is evidence has been found that suggest some type of ritualistic killing”

  "Jesus," Daniel groaned. He felt nauseas. His palms were sweaty and a lump the size of a cantaloupe had developed in his throat.

  “We’ll take this paint, Miss and be on our way,” Daniel said, trying to compose himself.

  The cashier spun around and eyed him for a moment, then quickly rung up the paint and turned back to the television.

  “Seven sixty-two,” she said and motioned with her outstretched hand.

  Daniel promptly paid then escorted his panic-stricken wife out of the door. He helped Monica into the car and tossed the paint onto the backseat.

  “That could have been you,” Monica sobbed uncontrollably as the door slammed. “Body parts, Daniel, they were just body parts. I told you that area was dangerous!”

  Daniel thought to himself how Monica was always a bit too melodramatic, but she was pregnant. What really worried him were the deaths of two people he’d just seen. He wondered if Victor knew; if Victor was even alive. It couldn't be a coincidence, something was going on.

  The sun was starting to set on New Orleans as Daniel pulled off the freeway with Monica still sobbing quietly next to him. He leaned over and gave her a little hug then nearly ran off the road as his pager began to beep loudly. Reaching down into the cup holder he picked it up. As he glanced at the number he sighed and turned to Monica.

  “I’ve gotta make a call,” he said and pulled over near a small strip of rundown businesses.

  “What…” Monica started to ask, but then realized his pager had been beeping. "It would be a good time to invest in a cell phone."

  "Maybe, but I gotta carry this thing anyway."

  Monica shrugged. Daniel stepped out of the car and dropped a few coins into a payphone that was attached to the local laundry mat. The phone rang loudly in his ear as he tapped his shoe impatiently.

  “Hello?” Daniel said as someone picked up the other end.

  “Dan, its Victor,” he replied in a nervous tone. "We got problems."

  FACE OFF

  “Victor…Jesus! Did you see the news…that guy from last night?”

  “Yeah, I saw it, looks like karma’s a bitch huh, but I'm calling about something else. Sumter Parish is airlifting a kid over for emergency plastic surgery, some kind of nose injury from a box cutter. I’m gonna need your help on this one, can you head down?”

  “Shit… um yeah, but people are dead, Victor."

  "People like that run into trouble every day. I need your help now."

  "Give me a few, let me run Monica by the house,” Daniel replied and stared back at the car.

  “Okay, I’ll be in prep when you get here,” Victor blurted then hung up the phone.

  Daniel hopped back into the car and pulled back onto the road. He mashed the gas, weaving past the slower cars. Monica glanced at him with a puzzled look on her face.

  “It was Victor, emergency surgery for some kid being flown in.”

  “Ah,” Monica replied with a sullen look.

  “Shit, that’s right, the baby room. I’m sorry, babe. Can we do it tomorrow?”

  Monica grinned at him. “Yeah, that’s fine. You’ve got an important job. I understand. Besides it's not that...it's the news.”

  Daniel smiled and patted her hand. “I promise I’ll make it up and I'll be careful and get home as soon as I can.”

  They didn’t speak for the rest of the ride. Daniel kept his eyes on the road, his fingers anxiously tapping against the steering wheel as he drove. His mind scattered as he tried to focus on the upcoming surgery, while the thoughts of the dead couple pulled him into the dark.

  Monica was still gazing out of the window as Daniel pulled into the driveway. She'd been consumed in her own dark thoughts and fear of what might come next.

  “I’ve gotta hurry,” Daniel said.

  He grabbed the can of paint and the other bags and rushed inside. Monica sat in the car for a bit longer. She rubbed her hands across her face and sighed.

  “Ugh. This is just too much."

  Moving like someone had sapped all the energy from her, she slowly opened the door and started to make her way into the house. What had begun as a fun, baby shopping day had turned into just another point of stress.

  Daniel grabbed his briefcase and a change of clothes and was headed towards the door as Monica was just making it in. As she crossed the entryway, he grabbed her and cuddled her into his arms.

  “I’ll make it quick,” he whispered and he kissed her on the forehead.

  Monica smiled, “Don’t ruin his nose on my account.”

  Daniel grinned and kissed her again. He ran his hands across her cheeks then pushed her hair behind her ears. Monica looked at him longingly then cleared her throat.

  “Be careful, Daniel," she said in a serious tone. "Come straight home tonight. No late-night drinks with the boys.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Daniel replied then turned to leave.

  As he trotted down the paved walkway the phone began to ring. Daniel paused. The ominous shrill sent a tingle up his spine.

  “Get out of here, I’ll get it,” Monica told him.

  Daniel tossed his bag into the backseat and shut the door. He sat down and cranked the car up then Monica screamed for him.

  “Daniel, the sheriff’s on the phone!” she yelled.

  Daniel’s heart skipped a beat. “The sheriff?” he called back. Sighing, Daniel slowly made his way out of the car and up the walkway. With a puzzled look, he took the phone form Monica.

  “Sheriff, what do I owe the pleasure?” Daniel asked and rolled his eyes.

  “Well, seems I’m gonna need to talk to ya bout last night. I’m guessing ya seen the news. Need to get a few details from you is all.”

  “I’m heading into the office right now, Lawson, some kid from Sumter Parish needs emergency facial surgery.”

  “Oh yeah…heard about that. Well, I gotta a few other stops, how about I head over to the office in three hour or four hours?”

  “That should be fine, I’ll see you then,” Daniel grumbled and hung up the phone. He took an uneasy breath and bit his lower lip.

  He’d seen enough detective movies to know the police never just wanted to talk. And if Lawson were even a half-ass investigator, which Daniel doubted he was, he’d have already found out about the little skirmish they had with the victims. Innocent or not he couldn’t help but envision being dragged into some interrogation room with a dim light swinging from the ceiling.

  Daniel looked up and found Monica staring at him. She quickly smiled when his eyes met hers. Daniel cleared his throat and handed her the phone back.

  “He just wants to know if we saw anything strange at the bar last night,” Daniel said and shrugged his shoulders.

  He gave Monica a kiss then ran back to his car. Monica watched as he drove off then closed the door and plopped onto the couch. Pocket hopped up and cuddled next to her as she rested her hand on his enormous head.

  “What are we gonna do tonight?” she asked rhetorically.

  Pocket glanced off into the distance as he dreamed of fresh cut fields full of pigeons to chase. Pouting, Monica reached across him and grabbed her laptop. She opened it up and continued her quest to reach the end of the internet.

  Daniel arrived at the office in record time. He wasn’t too keen on working during his day off, but when it came to children he had a soft spot. As he stepped off the elevator, he immediately realized things were a lot more serious than he thought. He opened the glass-paned doors to find Victor nervously pacing the floor, rubbing his slowly balding scalp.

  “Victor, is everything ok, where’s the kid?”

  “Da
niel, thank God. The kids not here yet, but Lawson called.”

  “Yeah, he called me too, what’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong? Lawson called me asking me if I knew the victim. I tell him yeah, the guy wanted to kill me. And then he gets quiet. I could hear his tiny mind winding up. He asks me where did I go afterwards and if anyone can back up my story. I mean he can't think I killed them, that...that doesn't make any sense.”

  “You’re overreacting, Vic, I’m sure that’s just the procedure. Even Lawson isn't that dumb. You’ll be fine,” Daniel said and patted Victor. It was all he could do to reassure him.

  The truth was Daniel didn't have a clue and he was as likely to be charged as Victor was. Lawson was notorious for finding himself a murderer, whether they were guilty or not. He was on a mission to prove that he was a competent officer and wasn’t afraid of a little collateral damage.

  A few years ago, Lawson had almost lost his badge. Several of his convictions were overturned due to negligence and shady police work. Now he jumped at the chance to arrest someone for even the slightest offense.

  “Damn Lawson and his ass backwards conclusions anyway, we’ve got a surgery to prep for,” Daniel vented as he strode off.

  Victor scratched his head and then as if he was snapping out of a trance, he shook and muttered, “You’re right, screw him.”

  Victor followed Daniel down the hallway and disappeared into one of the backrooms. He sat down on a rolling chair and stared off into space. Twiddling his pudgy fingers anxiously, he wheeled himself back and forth across the room.

  Daniel headed into his own office to change. He closed the door then turned and stared into the full-length mirror that hung from the wall. He ran his fingers through his ruffled gray hair and sighed. Looking down at his shoes, he closed his eyes, trying to prepare himself. He wavered momentarily, but that was all it took.

  A cold chill ran down his back. He could feel the soft, white flakes of snow falling on his head, the crunch of the hardened ice beneath his feet. Opening his eyes, he shivered and pulled his jacket closed.