When they reached the hospital, they used the back entrance again and went straight up to Lee's room. Dawn introduced her sister to Ty and his parents, and Lee thanked Sloan profusely for the security guards he had provided. After that, it didn't take Sloan long to persuade Lee to join the rest of the family at his house. Seeing that Lee was comfortable with her family, Dawn felt better when she had to excuse herself in order to attend the press conference at headquarters. After promising to rejoin the others at Sloan's house as soon as she could, she went on her way to the station, where the press conference went pretty much as planned. When it was over, she went upstairs with Rafe, who had also been present at the press conference, with the intention of finishing the reports on both the Torrense and Makella cases. As they walked into the bullpen, the first person they saw was Ralph Sokoto. When he caught sight of Dawn and Rafe, Sokoto immediately dived off his chair and plopped down on the floor.
“I've fallen, and I can't get up,” he moaned, in a good imitation of Brody's performance when Sokoto had found him lying prone on top of Vaughn Makella.
A universal groan went up from everyone else in the bullpen. “For God's sake, give it a rest, Sok,” Prentiss said. Turning to Dawn and Rafe, he explained, “He's been doing that all morning. Every time we turn around, there he is on the floor again, repeating that same line.”
“I can't help it, Prentiss. You should have been there. Finding our suspect down, with a seven foot giant on crutches lying on top of him, that was pretty good. But when he cracked that line, it was priceless. What a parody!”
“I'm so glad to hear that your work schedule allows you to give amateur theatrical performances while you are on the job, Detective Sokoto. Since you seem to have so much extra time on your hands, perhaps I'm not keeping you busy enough?” Lieutenant Westbrooke said from the doorway of her office.
Knowing his lieutenant, Sokoto replied, “Uh, well, LT, you'll be happy to know that you just caught my final command performance of the day. My shoulder will be firmly applied to the detective wheel from here on in.”
“I'm glad to hear it.” Turning to Dawn, she said, “Cimarron? In my office.” Once they were both inside and seated in her office, Moe said, “I wish I'd thought to record him on my cell phone before I encouraged him to cut it out. It really was kind of funny.” On a more serious note, she asked, “How's your sister today, Detective?”
“Much better, Lieutenant. They're releasing her from the hospital shortly, and she's going to stay with us at my father-in-law's house for a while.”
“Good. Have you been informed about the developments regarding the suspect's house in Vermont?”
“Yes, my partner updated me when I spoke to him on the phone first thing this morning. He told me about Alissa Gordena, Crystal Rogar, and Tamara Norti. What about the other two girls they found? Have they identified them?”
Lieutenant Westbrooke shook her head. “No – not yet. It may take some time for them to do so. Meanwhile, Vaughn Makella has been arraigned on the charges relating to your sister and Will Preisinger. Everything else is on hold now, pending the outcome of the psychiatric examination. He may get off, you know. In his case, the insanity defense might just work. How are you going to deal with it if that happens?”
Dawn replied, “If he truly is insane, I don't really care if he goes to prison. I'd be just as happy to see him confined to a mental institution. But I will do everything in my power to see to it that he is never released. Even if in the future they claim he's cured, he should never be allowed to walk the streets again as a free man. I don't particularly want to see him suffer; I just want to make sure that he doesn't ever get a chance to hurt anyone else, ever again. In the meantime, as soon as I finish up the paperwork and attend the arraignment for Monieque Torrense, I'm putting in for a few days off, LT. I've got sixteen years worth of catching up to do with my sister.”
“Good idea. Speaking of the Torrense case, we just heard from Monieque Torrense's sister-in-law. Now there's a woman who doesn't waste any time. Right after she was informed about the arrest yesterday, she petitioned to have her brother's body exhumed. Apparently, she has some clout in her hometown. That, coupled with Cullen's letter and the fact that Monieque has been charged with her son's murder, was enough to have a judge grant her petition. They exhumed the body last night, and Ellanor Torrense paid top dollar for a private autopsy to be done right away. Results just came in. Arsenic. Poor guy was loaded with it.”
“How did the doctors at the hospital miss it?”
“Monieque and Cullen's father were away visiting friends in her hometown at the time, remember? It turns out that the primary care physician on the case was Monieque's godfather. He apparently doted on her, was putty in her hands. You can bet that the bitch planned it that way, waited to administer the killing dose of arsenic while they were away from home and her husband was under her godfather's care, just to head off any chance of an autopsy. Apparently, the doctor did initially want to have one done, because Cullen's father was so young and died so suddenly. But Monieque pitched a fit at the very suggestion. She reminded her godfather that her husband had suffered from pancreatitis for years, and it was obviously the cause of death. Told him she couldn't bear the thought of having him cut open, begged him not to request an autopsy. In the end, he gave in and signed the death certificate. And then she was home free. Or so she thought. But now that arsenic has been found, I wouldn't be surprised to find that there'll be some additional charges leveled against Monieque shortly.”
“What about the charges against Vivian Zarafin? Has the DA decided what he's going to do yet?”
“He has. Kidnapping. Second degree, Class 4.”
“And the Feds?”
“No decision from them yet. I don't know if they'll go through with pressing charges. They may take into account the fact that there was no ransom demand and that there doesn't appear to have been any physical or sexual abuse in this particular case. We'll have to sit tight, let them interview your sister, see what they decide. It's early days still on that one, Cimarron. Have you thought about how it might affect your sister, having the woman whom she regarded as her mother for sixteen years be charged with kidnapping?”
“I'm not sure how she'll handle it. I do know that the two of them were not particularly close, especially during the last few years, since Laurence Zarafin died. So I'm hoping that it won't affect her too adversely. When it comes to the case against Vivian, though, I'm going to let Rafe handle communicating the details to Lee. It's better if I keep out of it entirely.”
“Agreed. Well, if you want to file those reports before it's time for you to leave for Monieque Torrense's arraignment, you'd better get started, Cimarron. Dismissed.”
*****
Dawn had just exited the courtroom after the conclusion of the arraignment for Monieque Torrense when she heard someone call, “Detective Cimarron!” Thinking that it was a reporter calling her name, Dawn kept walking toward the elevator that would take her to the ground floor of the courthouse. She'd fended off a ton of reporters already, smiling and repeating “No comment” until she thought they'd finally given up on trying to get her to add to the statement she'd made at the press conference earlier. She was in no mood to tangle with any more reporters. Now that she'd had the satisfaction of seeing Monieque Torrense indicted on murder charges, she just wanted to get back to Sloan's house and join the others. Aunt Mattie and Uncle Pete were on their way, and she wanted to be there to introduce them to Lee.
“Detective Cimarron!” she heard again. Annoyed, she turned around to face the pesky reporter who wouldn't give up. But her expression changed when she saw that it was Gwen Mallinder who was hurrying down the hallway toward her.
“Thanks for stopping,” Gwen said. “I just wanted to thank you.”
Given the girl's attitude during their previous encounters, that was the last thing Dawn had expected. Gwen must have read her expression, because she flushed and said, “I guess you're surprised
. I haven't been very nice to you, have I?”
Recovering, Dawn said smoothly, “Being nice is overrated. But courtesy? That's something you won't get far in life without, Gwen.”
“Yeah, that's what Cullen's Aunt Ellanor says. You should have heard her on the phone, persuading that judge to grant the exhumation order. She was really persistent, but she managed to stay polite the whole time. I've got to learn how to do that. You've heard the news, haven't you? About Cullen's dad?”
“Yes, I was informed about that development this morning.”
“I'm glad that she'll go down for that as well as for killing Cullen. But I'm pissed off about my own father. According to everyone I've spoken to, there's not enough evidence to charge her with killing my dad. Even though everybody knows she did it. Ellanor told me to wait and get the trial transcripts and then file a civil suit for wrongful death against Monieque. She said that in a civil case there doesn't need to be guilt without a possible doubt, like in a criminal case – only a preponderance of evidence. And if Monieque's found guilty of killing Cullen and his dad just to get her hands on their money, it would add weight to the case. But it's not enough! I want that monster to suffer, to go down for killing my dad too! I hate her so much that I have trouble sleeping at night. I can't seem to think about anything else.”
Pausing for a minute to compose herself, she went on, “I heard about you – about how your sister was kidnapped, about how the rest of your family was killed. How did you deal with it?”
Dawn took a moment to consider how much she wanted to reveal to this girl. Finally, she decided to tell her the complete truth.
“After my parents and my brother were killed, all I could think about was getting revenge on the boys who did it. I used to fantasize about different ways to torture them, make them hurt as much as I did.”
Gwen looked startled. “You did? You actually thought about torturing them?”
Dawn nodded. “I was so full of hate, wanting revenge so bad that I could practically taste it.”
“Do you still feel that way?”
Dawn met Gwen's eyes and said, “No. My aunt arranged for me to get some counseling on a regular basis, and the counselor convinced me that those boys had done enough damage to my family. If I had given way and acted on my desire for revenge, or even allowed the thought of it to continue to obsess me, I would be helping them to destroy the happiness of the only member of my family who had survived – me. I learned that I had to let it go, turn the page, and get on with my life. They were sent to prison, and that had to be enough.”
Gwen responded, “I don't know if that will be enough for me. But I'll think about what you said.” She shifted from one foot to the other and looked down at the floor uncomfortably, and Dawn thought that she had finished what she wanted to say. But then Gwen looked up again, met Dawn's eyes, and said, “You know, all those years, I thought of Cullen as an aggressor. It turns out, though, that Cullen was a victim too. When he was a kid, he was just a victim in waiting. It must have shocked the hell out of him when his mother turned on him. He may have been a little monster when he was younger, but he didn't spoil himself, and he didn't deserve to die like that. I want justice for him, now that I realize that it takes a monster to create a monster. You can't let the monsters get away with it. You have to fight them. If I let go of my anger, it would be like giving up the fight.”
Dawn replied, “Be careful. There's an old saying that goes something like this:
'He who fights with monsters must take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you'." She watched and waited, giving Gwen some time to reflect on what she had said, then added gently, “Be careful that your anger against Monieque doesn't become an abyss of hatred that you can't climb out of again, Gwen. That's the last thing your father would want.”
“I'll have to think about that. You're right about one thing, though – my dad would want me to be happy.”
“You know, there are support groups out there for family members of murder victims. I could give you some information on them, if you like.”
“Uh... sure. Okay. Maybe it would help.” The elevator arrived just then, and they stepped inside and rode it down together. As they were getting off on the ground floor, Gwen asked, “Is that why you became a cop? Because of what happened to your family?”
“Yes. I doubt if I would have even considered it as a career if I hadn't lost my family the way I did.”
“But you found your sister, right? Does that help?”
“It does. But now, like you, I have to deal with my feelings toward the person who took her and kept her from me all those years. You're not the only one struggling with the desire for revenge, Gwen.”
“How are you dealing with it?”
“The same way I eventually learned to deal with the loss of the rest of my family. Let the justice system take care of it, and move on.”
“Oh… You know, that quote you talked about earlier – the one about monsters? I think I've heard it before, on TV or something. Who said it?”
“Nietzsche. I don't agree with most of his philosophy, but he did come up with a couple of winners. Here's another good one: 'If it doesn't kill you, it will make you stronger.' What happened to your father didn't kill you, Gwen. You can use it to grow stronger, turn yourself into a person he would be proud of.”
“Yeah. I guess you're right.” Gwen pulled out her cell phone and checked the time. “I have to get going. Ellanor flew back to Arizona last night in order to deal with the arrangements for the autopsy, but she's due back shortly, and I told her I'd meet her flight at the airport, tell her about the arraignment.”
“Give her my regards. Good-bye, Gwen.”
“Good-bye.” Then, with a fierce smile, “See you at the trial, Detective.”
“See you then.” As Gwen hurried off toward the exit, Ty strolled up beside her.
“All finished?”
“Yeah. You get mobbed by reporters outside?”
“Oh, I had to dodge a few of them, but it was no big deal.” Taking her arm, he said, “C'mon, let's get out of here.”
On their way to the exit, she asked, “How's Lee?”
“Fine, fine. We've got her all settled in, and Mom and Dad are taking good care of her.”
“What about Aunt Mattie and Uncle Pete?”
“On their way. We should make it back just about the same time they're due to arrive.”
She reached down and linked her hand with his in a rare public display of affection. He was surprised, but said nothing. Still holding onto his hand, Dawn walked with Ty out to the waiting limo. As she'd told the lieutenant, she and her sister had sixteen years worth of catching up to do.
Chapter 14
Ty swung himself out of the pool, shook the water off, grabbed a towel, and dried off. Slinging the towel around his neck, he walked up the stairs to the balcony at the far end of the pool house and joined his father, who was standing at the railing that overlooked the pool deck. Looking down, he regarded the scene appreciatively. His mother had designed the pool area years previously, and she had outdone herself on it. The pool was shaped like a large figure eight and bisected in the middle by a bridge in the shape of a skewed polyomino. It was kept fresh by the constant inflow of water from the waterfall at the far end of the pool. Strategically placed around it were pink and white hibiscus, as well as aeonium rosettes in blue, green, pink, and purple. Cape primroses also bloomed there, along with aloe, agave, and yucca amid a riot of ferns – Boston and maidenhair, lemon button and staghorn. Since it was cold outside, the retractable roof of the pool house was closed, but plenty of light shone in from the windows all around.
Below, still in the pool, Dawn and Lee were hanging onto the edge of the pool, talking to Maeve, who was seated on a chair close by. Not far away, Lotti and Rafe were talking and laughing, all the while keeping an eye on Echo, who was splashing in a baby pool that had been set up for her on the
side of the pool deck. On a reclining deck chair, Will Preisinger was talking with Brody, who was standing with his back against the wall, supported by his crutches. Brody had been fortunate enough to come through his surgery the previous Thursday without any complications and had been released from the hospital on Saturday, the same day that Will had finally been pronounced recovered enough to leave the hospital.
That had been yesterday. Now they were all gathered together, at Maeve's insistence, having a belated birthday celebration for Dawn. Aunt Mattie and Uncle Pete had left shortly after Dawn had cut the cake and opened her presents earlier in the day, but the rest of them had adjourned to the pool house to continue the party.
As Ty watched, Dawn and Lee emerged from the pool together, Dawn clad in a two-piece electric blue bathing suit and Lee in a white bikini. Lee went over to talk with Will, but Dawn, after exchanging a few words with Maeve and wrapping a sarong around her waist, strolled up the stairs to join Ty and Sloan.
With one accord, they made their way to the bar at the far end of the balcony, where Sloan immediately began assembling the ingredients for a pitcher of martinis. Soon they were all seated at the big round table in the bar, sipping at their drinks. Maeve, now wearing a cover-up over her swim suit, presently came up to join them. Seeing her shiver a little, Sloan said, “You cold? I could get a fire going, if you like.”
“Oh, a fire would be lovely,” Maeve replied.
As Sloan worked on getting the fire started in the fireplace, Maeve looked at the pitcher of martinis and wrinkled her nose.
Sloan noticed her expression and grinned. “Still don't like martinis, huh?”
“No, and I don't think that I'll ever acquire a taste for them. Make me something a little less medicinal, would you, Sloan? You know what I like.”
When the Tiger Kills: A Cimarron/Melbourne Thriller: Book One Page 28