Shot Down

by Steven Sheiner

  She raced to me and I could see the panic on her face. I collapsed in an exhausted heap on the floor just as she reached me. Her eyes got wide when she saw the condition of my face. “Oh my god, Simon!” She turned to the people who had started gathering around us. “Someone call for help!” she screamed, and a few of the onlookers grabbed for their cell phones. She cradled me in her lap, whispering soothing words and stroking my hair. Then everything went black.

  Chapter 61

  I woke up in the hospital, with no recollection of how I got there. I opened my eyes to find the light was not quite as painful, but my head was still throbbing. An IV ran down from its stand into my left arm, and there was a bandage on the cut near my left eye.

  The room was quiet save for the occasional beep of monitors. Judging by the light coming through the window, it was late afternoon or early evening. What day, I couldn’t be sure.

  I tried to sit up, but my stomach ached and my head screamed. Sara came over from a chair in the corner, perched on the edge of the bed, and took my hand.

  “Hey,” she said softly. “How you feeling?”

  “Like someone beat the shit out of me.” The swelling in my face and jaw made it painful just to talk. “How long have I been out?”

  “Almost nine hours. Who did this to you?”

  I told her about the traffic stop, the anonymous state trooper, and the unprovoked assault. She covered her mouth with one hand and squeezed mine with the other one, shaking her head in disbelief as I talked.

  “Oh my god! He could have killed you!”

  “I don’t think so,” I said, trying to get comfortable. “If he wanted to kill me, he would have. This was something else.”

  “What do you mean ‘something else’? What else could it have been”?

  “I don’t know, but I have theory.”

  “What’s your theory?”

  “Not yet. Let me clear my head. For all I know, I’m imagining this entire conversation.”

  Sara let out an uncomfortable laugh and squeezed my hand a little harder to let me know it was real. I could see the pain in her eyes, and felt terrible for doing this to her.

  “Where are the boys?” I asked.

  “I sent them home with my parents. They were all here for a few hours, but the boys were tired, hungry, and in desperate need of showers, so I told them to go. They really wanted to see you, but I told them they could come back in the morning.”

  “So I guess I’m spending the night here?”

  “Uh, yeah. Your X-rays showed no broken bones, but you have a mild concussion so the emergency room physician said he wanted to keep an eye on you overnight.”

  I leaned back against the pillow, closed my eyes, and let out a deep breath. “Okay,” I said, perfectly content to stay right where I was.

  “Jesus. What does the other guy look like?”

  William must have snuck in as Sara and I were talking, as he now stood just inside the door.

  “Hey,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I called him,” Sara said.

  I turned to look at her and she shrugged. “I didn’t know what else to do. I was hoping he might.”

  “Actually,” I said, “I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to you.”

  William pulled up a chair next to the bed, sat down, leaned forward, and said, “Tell me what happened. Don’t leave anything out.”

  I gave him the full story with as much detail as I could recall. When I was done, he stood, pulled his cell phone from his pocket, and said, “Let me make a few calls. I’ll be right back,” and headed for the door.

  “William?” I said, as he reached for the door handle.

  He stopped and turned.

  “The trooper called me Dr. Spero. Doctor. How would he have known that? I hardly said two words to him.”

  He paused before saying, “Give me a few minutes,” and walking out.

  “You didn’t tell me that,” Sara protested.

  “I didn’t remember until just now.”

  She looked toward the door and asked, “Who do you think he’s calling?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. I leaned my head back on the pillow and closed my eyes.

  Chapter 62

  I dozed off waiting for William to return. My ears still rang, my head still throbbed, and my stomach still ached. I felt like I had stepped into the ring with Mike Tyson and it had gone horribly, horribly wrong. Sara left in search of food, so I took the opportunity to shut my eyes and rest. Sleep came quickly.

  The flashing lights were blinding. I was outside my car standing in a thick fog. From the direction of the lights, the fog parted and Carlos emerged. His face, anyway. The body was that of the state trooper. Big, muscular, tattooed, and angry. Carlos smiled a wicked smile as he bore down on me. Once again, I was unable to run, or even move. With a simple flick of his wrist, he tossed me up against the car and began beating me mercilessly. Blow after blow, he kept pounding away. The pain was excruciating, and I could hear the sound of bones breaking and tissue tearing away. Blood ran and saturated my clothes. The pain was unbearable and I screamed in agony. Carlos responded by pummeling my throat until he’d crushed my voice box and any sound it made. In the process, he also obliterated my trachea and my ability to breathe. I gasped desperately for air, but Carlos was still not satisfied. He continued to pound away, and the last thing I saw was his evil grin and his fists hurtling toward my face.

  I awoke with a jolt and pain surged through me from the sudden movement. My heart pounded, my hospital gown was damp with sweat, and my lungs burned, the feeling of suffocation still fresh. I reached up and felt my throat, expecting it to be a mangled mess. I scanned the room, looking for Carlos. The dream was so real, I was sure he’d be standing over me ready to strike again. The frequency of my nightmares had lessened since the shooting, but not the intensity. If anything, they’d become more real, and more terrifying.

  Sara returned with sandwiches, chips, and drinks, and I acted as though nothing had happened. The last thing she needed was to know Carlos was still tormenting me when I slept.

  As I eyed the food, I worried about how my aching jaw would handle biting into a sandwich, but I was famished and more than willing to find out. It wasn’t as bad as I’d thought. I took small bites and chewed slowly. We ate and talked about nothing important until William returned. He resumed his position in the chair at the side of the bed.

  “What do you remember about the car that pulled you over?” he asked as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

  “Not much, honestly. Just the flashing lights in my rear view.”

  “Was it marked or unmarked?”

  “I really don’t remember, William. Sorry.” I looked at Sara and she took my hand in support.

  William looked at me, and I couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or angry.

  “Okay, whatever. So here’s what I was able to find out. There was only one trooper who ended his shift abruptly today, deactivating both his body cam and dash cam. He claimed illness and hasn’t been back on duty since. I have someone looking into his bank accounts for any unusual deposits, but we won’t find anything. He was more than likely paid in cash.”

  “Paid?” I asked.

  “Of course. You think he beat the shit out of you just for fun?”

  “Paid by who?”

  “Come on, Simon. I told you she wasn’t gonna let it go.”

  “She, who? Christina?” I asked, sitting up higher in bed.

  “No. Martha fucking Stewart!” he snapped. “Yes, Christina!”

  “What are you saying? That she is behind this?!”

  “If I had to guess, I’d say she’s been behind everything, from the media ambushes, to the protestors, to the money in your account, to the arrest warrant…”

  “The arrest warrant? She ha
s that kind of influence? With the Attorney General?” My voice squeaked higher with each question.

  “Simon, don’t be so naive. Anyone can be bought if the price is right.”

  “But why? It doesn’t make any sense. Why all these games? Why not just kill me?”

  “I won’t pretend to understand how Christina Escalante thinks, but I bet she’s having fun. Maybe she decided ruining your life would be better than ending it.”

  “Fun?!” Sara blurted out. She waved a hand in the direction of my mangled face and shouted, “This is her idea of fun?”

  “Yeah, pretty much,” William replied flatly. “I told you both from the beginning, she’s crazy.”

  I put my head back and let out an exasperated sigh. I had feared Christina’s involvement, and William had just confirmed what I’d been thinking. Staring up at the ceiling I said, “She’s right. This is much worse than if she’d just killed me.”

  “I think that’s the general idea,” he replied.

  Sara slapped me on the arm. “Don’t say that! At least you’re still alive.”

  I gave a half-hearted nod before turning to William. “What do we do now?”

  “I’m working on it. But she’s not gonna stop. Not until one of you is dead.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything, but it’s pretty clear something has to be done. Either that, or you can just sit around and wait for whatever she has planned next.”

  Chapter 63

  I was discharged from the hospital the following afternoon, having been evaluated and cleared by the neurologist, ophthalmologist, and attending physician. My eye and brain were both bruised, and they throbbed in unison, but there were no broken bones, and it seemed there would be no permanent damage from my injuries. Although, I had a hunch Jordan and Brock would both take great delight in calling me “brain damaged,” and other clever names, once they knew I was okay. I couldn’t wait to see them.

  I began to think back on everything that had happened to me over the past several months. Could Christina really be behind it all? William didn’t seem to think she had the self-control or the patience for such an elaborate scheme. But maybe this time was different because it was her brother.

  Would she go to such lengths to avenge Carlos? Why not just kill me? What did she gain by dragging it out?

  I suddenly had an urge to call Callie Ann. I missed talking to her. She never judged, and always understood what I was going through at any given moment. Granted, she didn’t have some nut job hell bent on revenge stalking her, but still… she was easy to talk to. With Sara back home and Callie Ann’s over-the-top flirtations, I couldn’t chance it. I started picturing her beautiful face, her gorgeous body...

  Stop it.

  Sara drove us home from the hospital, and I found myself looking around as we walked to the car. I’d let my guard down over the last few months, but now I was very aware of my surroundings and on high alert, afraid of what might come next. William said he’d get with his contacts to track down the trooper who assaulted me, but being that there were no witnesses and, other than my injuries, no real proof of anything, he wasn’t optimistic much would come of it.

  As we drove, I realized my car was still sitting in long-term parking at the airport. I was actually less worried about the car and more about how much it would cost to let it keep sitting there.

  “Is that really what you’re thinking about right now?” Sara asked when I expressed my concerns.

  “What should I be thinking about? Christina and her evil plan to destroy every aspect of my life? What good would come of that?”

  “Not every aspect,” she said with a smile.

  That was true. I should have been relieved that my family had been left alone, for the most part. Other than the creep who’d been lurking around the woods up in Maine, Sara was largely uninvolved, and the boys didn’t have a clue what had been happening.

  “Don’t worry about the car,” Sara said. “We’ll figure it out today or tomorrow. For now, you need to rest. You heard the doctor.”

  “Ah, what do they know?” I joked.

  We made it home without incident. Sara pulled into the garage, and quickly closed the door behind us. I wasn’t the only one thinking about what might be coming. I got out of the car, still moving gingerly, and made my way to the door. Sara was there to open it for me. She held it for me as I walked through. I was two steps inside the house when they struck.

  The attack came without warning. Before I could react, I was set upon by dog, boys, and grandparents, in that order. There were licks, barks, hugs, kisses, and cheers. My stomach ached from the hugs and my head pounded from the noise, but I loved every second of it.

  After the excitement died down, Sara sent the boys to unpack and cut her parents loose. They’d been in charge of two teenage boys for over twenty-four hours and they looked like they could use the rest. We expressed our gratitude, assured them that we’d get the family together for dinner soon, and said our goodbyes.

  Sara also sent me to go get some rest, in the form of a nap. No argument here. I popped a couple of the prescription painkillers I’d gotten from the hospital and headed for the bedroom. Mandy followed and was up on the bed before I was. I climbed in and she was on top of me. When the lick-fest was over, she lay down at the foot of the bed and I was able to close my eyes and relax.

  When I woke up the sun was almost down. I didn’t know if it was the meds or the sheer exhaustion, but I’d slept soundly and without any interruptions from Carlos. I actually felt rested. I had no idea what time it was, but the house was quiet and Mandy was gone.

  I sat up a little too quickly, and my injuries reminded me of their presence. I felt a little better than when I had gone to sleep, but things still ached. I climbed out of bed and made my way into the kitchen. Sara and the boys were sitting at the table eating pizza and watching TV. Mandy was keeping a keen eye on the situation from below, hoping something would fall on the floor.

  Suddenly I realized how hungry I was. I grabbed a drink from the fridge and joined them. Now that I was awake and we were all together, Sara turned off the TV and we talked. The boys wanted to hear all about my ass-kicking, but I wanted to hear about camp. Sara agreed that was a more appropriate topic of conversation, so we ate and the three of them told me about their summer in Maine. I smiled and laughed more in the next hour than I had in the last two months.

  I was so happy to have them home.

  Chapter 64

  A week of rest is what the doctors had ordered. “Don’t exert yourself; don’t go to the office; don’t even leave the house.” I was on board with all of that, especially the last one. But it didn’t exactly work for Sara and the boys. School was starting soon and there was a laundry list of things that needed to be taken care of. Normally Sara would put me in charge of the school supplies while she handled the clothes. I felt guilty about not being able to help this time around.

  “I got it,” Sara said. “Just rest and get better. Don’t worry about us.” But worrying was about the only thing I could do. We didn’t say it out loud, but we were both thinking about Christina and what she had up her sleeve next. I prayed that she’d keep her focus on me and leave them out of it.

  I’d never been great at sitting around and doing nothing, so I decided to see what I could do to salvage what little remained of my practice. With laptop in hand, Mandy and I headed for the couch and I got to work. I spent the next several hours reading articles and watching videos on how to market my practice on social media. Advertising to my existing patients was probably a waste of time. They’d seen me arrested and charged with murder. Manslaughter, actually, but in their minds, what’s the difference? No. I needed new patients. Patients who’d never heard of Simon Spero.

  After a few days, I had several advertising campaigns running across all the major social media plat
forms. By the end of the week, my efforts bore fruit. On Friday, Vera called to tell me the phone had begun ringing again and the schedule was coming to life. I’d been given the green light to go back to work on Monday, and from the looks of it, there would actually be patients to see. It couldn’t come at a better time. Sara had spent the better part of a week shopping, so if I didn’t get back to work soon, she’d bankrupt us. She didn’t find that amusing.

  Monday morning came and everyone was back to reality. The boys went off to school with the usual moans and groans, Sara headed back to work, and I returned to my office. It was pretty clear I was the only one actually excited about my day. When I walked in the front door, the office was bustling with activity. Patients were milling about, filling out paperwork, looking at glasses, and Vera and Alexis were smiling. The ads were working. I guess it didn’t hurt that I had included a coupon in every ad with a significant discount on goods and services. I needed to get people in the door.

  We cruised through the morning and everything felt like it was returning to normal. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this way. We locked the doors for lunch and ate together in the break room. They both expressed how relieved they were that patients were coming back and we were busy again.

  “I could get used to this,” Vera said.

  “Me, too,” echoed Alexis.

  I smiled, glad to see them excited about working and happy to be seeing patients again. I don’t know what I would do without them. I was about to say so when Vera said, “Now don’t go screwing it up!” and the two of them had a good laugh at my expense.

  “I’ll do my best,” I promised.

  The afternoon had been as active and exciting as the morning, and when we locked the doors for the day, I breathed a sigh of relief. We’d made it through the day without incident, and I didn’t have to answer a single question about the shooting, the arrest, or my upcoming court date. Although a few patients were curious about the condition of my face, particularly my eye. It was still somewhat swollen and still black and blue, but I could see, and that’s all that mattered.