by R L Dunn
Martin quirked a brow. "That's what you call a cell today?"
What was coming next was no surprise. After being escorted to an isolated area, two glove-wearing deputies waited to strip-search him. The first deputy asked, "Bailey, do you have anything on your person that is unauthorized or may cause an injury to us?"
"No, sir."
"Empty your pockets. Please shake out your hair."
"Not much to shake." Martin laughed, but the guards were stoic. He did what he was told.
Once the deputy observed his ears, nose, and mouth, the humiliation continued. "Please remove your pants and underwear and pass them to the deputy."
Martin resisted a comment about his mother always making him wear clean underwear.
"Lift your feet." The deputy inspected between Martin's toes. "Please lift your testicles and squat, coughing three times. You a vet?" Martin put on the orange uniform they handed him; when he spun, the deputy spotted the trident tattoo. "You're a SEAL?"
"Ten years, Navy. Eight of them a SEAL." He dressed in his jail uniform.
As he rounded the corner, another deputy called to him, "Bailey, your lawyer is here." The noon news flashed on the TV with his picture.
After explaining the charges against him and the details of the arraignment, the report continued, “Also in the courtroom was the daughter of Governor Reed. Dr. Elizabeth Reed turned her back on the defendant and burst into tears as Mr. Bailey was escorted from the room. Outside the courtroom..." The report played the statements from Cecile Dufour, Elizabeth Reed, and Kieran Chase.
Martin shook his head before being escorted to a small anteroom. After the report, he did not expect to find Kieran with his attorney. "The news reported my termination. I'm sorry."
His boss simmered. "You are a wingnut. What are you apologizing for?" Kieran snapped.
"For..." Martin sat. He'd followed the plan, and he had no idea what happened.
"Well?" Kieran held up his hands. A small noise suppressor was visible between Kieran's fingers. "Brynn sends her best through Ian." Martin gave a slow blink in response.
"Mr. Bailey, I need you to tell us what happened, unless what you’re going to tell me might incriminate yourself. Mr. Chase will need to leave in that case."
"No, Kieran can stay. I didn't kill those men. I just wanted Elizabeth’s letter back. The door was ajar. I heard a crash and went inside." He concisely told the story. "I was groggy as I made it to my feet. I spotted Dufour first, a shot to the head and chest. Then I spotted Reed. Same thing. Phone by his hand. A P228 was on the coffee table. Did you find my gun?"
"How long were you awake before the police arrested you?" Cordelia asked.
"Thirty seconds or so?"
"You were groggy, but you noted all that in thirty seconds? Your recall surprises me," she said.
Martin blinked. "Mrs. Snow, you are wearing a navy blue suit, size twelve. The skirt hits one inch below your knee. The shoes are navy patent leather with red soles. I believe they are Louboutins. You are right-handed. You are married, and your wedding ring is an antique piece. The pearls around your neck have a sapphire, pearl, and gold clasp. Your briefcase is worn. I suspect it means something to you. You are wearing gold and pearl stud earrings. Shall I go on?"
"Your weapon? It was not the gun the police found?"
"What kind of weapon were you carrying?" Kieran asked.
"My usual."
"Martin carries a Heckler & Koch Mark 23 United States Special Operations Command Version, with laser arming module and suppressor. It is an offensive weapon good in close quarter battle," Kieran answered like he was reading a manufacturer's brochure.
"Have you ever used a P228?" Cordelia asked.
"Nah, the HK came out in 1996. I made the teams in 2000. Always used that."
"One more time, have you ever owned a Sig P228? Think, Mr. Bailey.” Cordelia looked at her papers.
Martin paled. "Twenty years ago, my family bought me a P228 when I joined the Navy. I... I left it behind. Personal weapons are not allowed at boot camp. Shit, the last time I had it was in Elizabeth's car. She drove me home from a surprise going away party.”
"The last time you owned a P228 was twenty years ago. You left it with your girlfriend, the daughter of the deceased. The police will confirm it, but I would bet the gun that killed Reed and Dufour is that weapon. What happened next?"
Cordelia took him through the arrest, then questioned Martin on specifics. "You never touched the gun?"
"No. You know I didn't shoot them, right?"
"I'm your lawyer."
"That's not what I asked. Listen to me. I didn't kill them. If I had, the police would never have caught me."
"Martin, chill," Kieran barked an order.
"I can't chill if my own attorney thinks I did this."
"I didn't say that, Mr. Bailey. I believe someone is framing you. Rephrase that, you made it easy to frame you. Now, we need to explain the gunshot residue on your hands."
"I can't. Did they find splatter on my shirt?"
"They found blood. The report is not in yet."
"Mrs. Snow, those men were shot up close and personal. It's not like TV. It’s messy and wet, and death smells. Blood splatters."
"I will look into it." The experienced attorney was not flustered by his temper. "As a law enforcement officer, you are being placed in their special housing unit. Your family filled your commissary account. You are permitted to call Mr. Newsome or me—the jail should accommodate that request. Otherwise, life is desolate. You will be provided one hour in the yard and allowed three phone calls of five minutes’ duration per month. We go back to court in ten days. Mr. Bailey, if someone else doesn't confess sooner, you will be in custody quite a while."
"Kieran, I was thinking…" Martin tilted his head.
Kieran shook his head. "That could be dangerous. Why didn't you think before you crossed that threshold?"
"How is Greece this time of year?" Martin asked his boss.
Cordelia scratched her temple in a sign of confusion.
"The infrastructure is crumbling."
Martin swallowed hard. "Kieran, if this goes the way of Greece, promise me to do the right thing."
"Not gonna come to that." Kieran looked grim. "Watch your six."
Cordelia waved in the guards. "Good day, Mr. Bailey."
"We will figure this out." Kieran stood, and as the guard approached, he whispered, "Your false termination will start the rumors.”
On the ride to the hospital, Elizabeth made some decisions. "Julian, I appreciate all your efforts on my behalf." She reached to open her door. "I want to check on Austin and Mr. Mills. Don't think of stopping me; Austin is my patient. Then, I want to spend the rest of the day with Lola." She took a deep breath. "I need to tell you something."
"What, chère?"
"Melinda Bradford has been sleeping with my father for years. So did Tibby Spooner when she was Cicely Moody—and Cecile Dufour. I think Celine still was."
Elizabeth stopped by her office to grab her lab coat, then tossed a student one to Julian. "I am checking on my, or should I say, our patient." When she made full eye contact with him, Julian's lips turned up. "You may stay for a moment; I plan on being in there a while."
Two corrections officers sat in front of Troy's doorway. The first guard blocked her entry. "ID please?"
"Fine, you show me yours."
Julian lifted his badge, hoping it would encourage Elizabeth to do so as well. "Doc, we’re doing our job. This man is in custody," CO Vernon Gafford said.
"The man is comatose." She pushed past him. A nursing assistant was sitting beside Troy. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize someone was with him."
"I'm Kenny Clarke, ma'am. Dr. Hedges ordered around-the-clock staffing. Mr. Mills is experiencing fluctuations in his oxygen levels even with the vent. His temperature is 102.4 and trending up. If you need to speak to him, Dr. Hedges is asleep in the on-call room."
"Thank you. If you would like to tak
e a break, we will stay with him." Elizabeth scanned the monitors and read the nursing notes on the computer. Kenny vacated his seat to allow Julian to reach Troy's side. The sorrow in Julian's eyes was obvious. "I'm okay alone with Mr. Mills, Julian.”
"I'll be outside." Julian left her with his friend.
When she approached the bed to examine him, Troy's eyes fluttered beneath closed lids. Elizabeth believed patients could hear despite all signs pointing the other way. "I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Dr. Beth Reed. I promise, no one is going to hurt you here. I'm going to examine you. I'll go slow."
Elizabeth placed a cool washcloth on his fevered brow. His body was so ill, his heart rate increased at her every touch. "Troy, I'm going to carry you off the mountain. I'm Farmer's friend." She waited for his heart rate to slow a little. She wasn't sure if he understood anything she said.
Kenny returned to find her holding Troy's hand. "Kenny, keep up the ice packs for his face. If his temp goes over 103, add ice packs to his voids and have the nurse wake Dr. Hedges. And one more thing, if you need to leave the room, make sure he isn't alone with the guards."
Julian stepped in stride with her as she walked to the nurse's station and logged into a computer to write her note. "Julian, when I’m finished, I'd like to visit Austin and Lola." Julian's gaze burned through her back as she typed her assessment of Troy.
Josh Stone, posing as CO Sonny Noone, and Sergeant Alden McAllister walked Martin down an endless corridor, then down a flight of metal stairs. "Home." They stopped in front of a cell. One bunk, sink, desk, built-in chair and a metal toilet.
"Welcome to the hole. This is for your protection. Chow is at 16:45 through the slot. You get one hour of recreation a day. Lights out are at 21:00. Here's the inmate manual. Memorize it." McAllister shoved it into Martin's gut, and with a hard push backward, the door slammed shut.
McAllister's snicker reverberated. Martin sat and read the manual. Losing track of time, he jumped when something banged on the door and a tray was slid through the slot. The dinner was sliced turkey roll and American cheese on a bun, chips, a chocolate chip muffin and enriched fruit punch. He managed to force down the meal to stay nourished, hydrated—and alive.
Lola cried on Seth's shoulder as Kieran washed his hands and pulled on a gown and gloves. "Hey, little one, I'm Uncle Kieran." His voice sounded sweet, "Your Daddy loves you." With her cradled in his arms, he swayed back and forth. Two big, teary blue eyes stared at him.
Kieran's voice took on a singsong quality, "Brady, if anyone tries to take her anywhere before the guardianship paperwork is signed, shoot them. We need to protect Elizabeth. We removed her name as Lola's next of kin, replacing it with mine. Uncle Kieran is going to fix this, baby girl." Kieran pressed two fingers to his lips and placed them against her pink hat.
Tighe sat coloring with Lissa when Joyce and Tucker walked into her room. The little girl looked to Tighe, who reassured her with his smile.
"Hi, Dr. Joyce. Do you want to color too?" She held up a crayon for Tucker. "You gonna help Dr. Kat and Dr. Joyce? I has to have another operation."
"I’ll be there. My name is Tuck."
"Tuck, Dr. Joyce has Cinderella hair."
His cornflower blue eyes sparkled. "She does, and you have Snow White hair.” He crouched to her eye level. “Lissa, we need some help. Can you tell us about Uncle Boyd?"
"Daddy told me Uncle Boyd was gonna babysit. Daddy went to find Mommy. Uncle Boyd lives in a castle with a tall fence with sharp points. We watched Dora and ate macaroni and cheese. I played with my dolly. Do you know where she is?"
"No, sweetie. I'm sorry," Tucker said.
"It's okay, Uncle Tighe got me this one."
"She's a beautiful dolly. After you had macaroni and cheese, what happened?" Tucker asked.
Her shoulders shrugged, and she leaned toward Tighe.
"I know it’s scary to talk about," Tighe said.
Lissa pulled the covers over her head. "Uncle Boyd said I would have to sleep in the cage with snakes if I told."
Tucker controlled his expression. "We won't let that happen, Lissa."
"Can I come under there with you?" Lissa picked up a corner for Tighe to join her. "Look what I have." He flipped on his flashlight. "This is our safe space, Lissa. Our scary things can stay in here."
"You have scary things?" Lissa's eyes widened.
"Yes. So do Dr. Joyce and Tuck." Tighe raised his shirt. "A bad person gave me this booboo."
Lissa touched a white scar on Tighe's flank. "Does it hurt?"
"No, sweet girl. It doesn't hurt anymore. My friends fixed it and made sure the bad person would never hurt me or anyone else again."
Lissa leaned in and whispered, "Dr. Joyce and Tuck are your friends? They will help keep the bad people away?" Tighe nodded. "Okay."
Tighe's face said it all when he lifted the sheet off his head. "Dr. Joyce and Tuck, will you come in our tent? Lissa is going to tell us about the bad people, and I promised her my friends would make sure they never hurt her or anyone again."
Lissa held Tighe's hand as his stomach tied into knots. "Uncle Boyd said we were having a party. I got to wear a yellow dress. We had soda, and I watched TV. Uncle Boyd carried me into a big room. There were toys and some other kids and some ladies in princess dresses. We had more soda."
Tighe started to sweat.
"Billy got to be an astronaut. Uncle Boyd's friend, Mr. Hal, said I was a ballerina. It was fun. I turned too much and got dizzy. Mr. Hal took off my dress. I said stop. Uncle Boyd said we were going to play hot potato. They didn't play it right. I was the potato. When the music stopped, they touched me in bad places with their peepee. Please don't make me play the game again." Lissa shook and sobbed, trying to crawl into Tighe’s arms, the tubes and the loss of her leg hampering her.
"Come here." Blinking back his own tears, he scooped her into his arms and rubbed her back. "You never have to play that game again." Joyce and Tuck sat statue-still.
Lissa burrowed into him. "Uncle Tighe, another man, Mr. Clay. He was meanerest. He hurted me mostest. Uncle Boyd yelled at him, and I kicked him. Next I 'member, you was reading a story in a funny voice. Can you read it to me again?" she sniffled.
"Anything you want, Lissa. You are such a brave girl." Tighe pulled the story up on his phone, trying hard not to let her see his raw feelings.
"I'll be back in a minute, Lissa. What kind of Jell-O would you like?" Tucker asked. "Green?"
"How did you know I like green?" Lissa smiled.
"A good guess, darlin'." There were six different green crayons on her bed table.
Elizabeth found Lola in the arms of the man who sat behind Martin in the courtroom. "You’re going to be the most spoiled baby in the world." Lola's tiny hand pulled on his lip.
"Mr. Chase?" Elizabeth asked.
"Kieran. Dr. Reed?"
"Beth. Hello, baby girl, how are you today?"
Kieran placed her in Elizabeth's arms. "She's beautiful. We were discussing whether she is going to be a girly girl or tomboy. What were you?"
"What was I? Until I met..." Elizabeth closed her eyes. "I was a girly girl. And then in high school, I guess I was a bit of both."
"Martin will fix this," Seth said.
"Some things can't be fixed. That happens in fairy tales. Seth, tomorrow is my father's wake. I'll be in after." Elizabeth made a funny face at Lola.
"I promise we’ll be fine. Lola and I have our morning routine, right, princess?" The baby blew a raspberry.
Elizabeth laughed. "Look, I’m fine. Please stop with the sad faces."
"Would you join me for dinner this evening, Beth? I would like to speak with you about a few things. Here isn't the place." Kieran's tone remained unusually soft for the tougher Chase brother.
"I'd like to spend the remainder of the afternoon here, Mr. Chase. My colleague is performing a difficult surgery. I plan to assist him, and then I will head home. Any time after that." She sat in the rocker with Lola as if th
ey were the only ones in the room. Elizabeth was finished talking.
Martin rested on the thin mattress. He knew by all reports if he was going to be harassed, it would be after dark. And if his plan worked, it would occur sooner rather than later. The window slot slid open with a click. "Prisoner, stand," a female voice called.
This was part of the standard check procedure. "Yes, CO." Soon, she was on to the next cell. Martin returned to his bed. Worries about Elizabeth and Lola alternated with his thoughts about the operation.
Kieran paced while listening to his personnel's reports. He was already distraught about Troy's condition.
Zach opened his briefcase. "Cordelia Snow's people delivered a copy of the disclosures from the prosecution. The gun had Martin's fingerprints on it. The murder weapon was confirmed as the P228 his parents purchased for him. The blood on Martin's shirt, just like he thought, appeared to be contact drops. I want our people back in the Reed home. It will be easier with Beth’s permission? I think we will find the rug covered with spatter and that Martin was placed on top of it. The lab tests showed Martin had an atypical opiate in his system. Our people are still trying to narrow it down."
"Josh called in. He's worried. None of our guys are assigned to the SHU. At this point, Martin's on his own." Mike said, "Wes is trying to manipulate the schedule."
Tate continued with his report, "Young and Murray haven't returned Ford's calls. Lissa told Tighe that Mr. Hal and Mr. Clay hurt her. We failed to put a tracker on Jenner. He's careful—our bugs picked up nothing pertinent.”
Kieran kicked a wastebasket in frustration.
"Boss, we’re trying, but nothing is coalescing. TJ is going to make an attempt at McAllister tomorrow. His paperwork says he’s an administrative transfer for disciplinary reasons. He slept with a prisoner and paid her in drugs, but no proof was found. We’re hopeful McAllister will bite," Tate said.