Delphie’s face went white.
“What?” Seth asked.
“He thinks of them as trophies or awards,” Delphie said. “The disgusting creature unearthed a body so that he could be on the front page of the Denver Post. He’s furious that his handy work hasn’t gotten the attention he believes he deserves.”
“Then we won’t give him the pleasure,” the Coroner said.
“Any lock on who?” Seth asked.
“Just that he was here… recently,” Delphie shook her head. “Breeze and Chance were chosen to find this.”
“Breeze and Chance?” the Coroner asked.
“The dogs,” Seth said. “How were they chosen?”
“I don’t know,” Delphie said. “And I don’t know why. This creature has some way of cloaking himself. I doubt even his victims know who he is.”
“Like Jack the Ripper,” the Coroner said.
“Jack the Ripper?” Seth asked.
“Jack the Ripper killed prostitutes, very young women in a highly populated area,” Delphie said. “Four of the murders happened in August and September. It was a particularly hot summer and everyone was outdoors due to the heat. Yet, no one saw him. Not a soul. He just appeared, killed and disappeared. No one knows why he started or stopped.”
Seth and the Coroner gawked at Delphie. Delphie laughed.
“I was the Oracle Taber,” Delphie said. “You’d be surprised at how many people, when faced with a true oracle, ask about Jack the Ripper.”
“And?” Seth asked.
“I personally think Jack the Ripper was Nessie,” Delphie laughed. “You know, the Loch Ness Monster?”
Shaking his head at her, Seth laughed.
“They’ll figure it out soon,” Delphie said. “DNA modeling or something.”
“But you know?” the Coroner asked.
“I’ve been told an answer,” Delphie said. “Which is something that hasn’t happened here. Yet.”
“The victims didn’t know their killer?” Seth asked.
“No, it’s more like they knew the killer but didn’t know he killed them,” Delphie said.
“What does that mean?” Seth asked.
Delphie shrugged. The Coroner leaned into Delphie.
“Is he here?” she asked.
“I can’t tell,” Delphie said. “I don’t think so. Mr. Craig may have seen him though. We should talk to him.”
“Will you help us identify…?” the Coroner said.
“Yes, I’ll be there,” Delphie said. “I’d like to see them… where they lay.”
The Coroner looked at Seth and he nodded.
“This way.”
Seth and Delphie followed the Coroner through the grim scene. When they had seen everything, the Coroner turned back to her work. Seth and Delphie returned to his car.
“This is the biggest case we’ve ever had. And the way these cases go…” Seth said. He turned on the car and put it into gear. “The FBI will be here today. They handle serial killers. That doesn’t mean it’s not our case. They come to assist. They’ll want to meet with you… maybe tonight.”
“Great,” Delphie said. “I don’t think we have plans tonight. Valerie is in LA so our lives are quiet for a moment.”
Seth nodded. They drove the rest of the way to the Castle in silence. Delphie was gathering her things to get out when Seth cleared his throat.
“I really do need your help,” Seth said.
“I know,” Delphie said.
Seth nodded and drove off.
~~~~~~~~
Monday evening — 5:30 P.M.
Molly laughed at something Pete said. Monday was their date night. Since Pete returned from prison, they’d been hot for each other. Something about almost dying had ignited Pete’s passion for Molly. And she responded in kind.
Stolen moments here led to groping in quiet corners there. Quickies led to mad, crazy nights in Pete’s apartment above Sandy’s salon. More than once, Molly was stumbling home as Sandy opened the salon on Tuesday morning. They had started tonight fast and furious. Relaxed, they were on their way out for dinner.
“What’s that?” Molly pointed to something leaning against the salon’s front door.
“Stay here,” Pete said.
Pete opened the glass front door. With his foot, he nudged the pile of clothing. It moved. It was a person wrapped up in layers of clothing.
“You can’t stay here,” Pete said.
“My sister…” a male voice came from under the hood of a jacket. “Waiting for my sister...”
“The salon is closed on Mondays and Sundays,” Pete said. “Scram.”
“Pete!” Molly said. “That’s just a kid.”
“Molly, go back in the shop,” Pete said.
“Oh my God! That’s Sandy’s brother.” Molly kneeled down to peer at the face hidden in the hood. “Charlie?”
“Molly,” Pete groaned.
Molly gave Pete one of her fierce ‘stop it’ looks. He raised his hands and stepped back.
“Charlie,” Molly peered at his face again. “Pete, I don’t think he’s all right.”
“He smells like meth, pot and filth,” Pete said.
“I remember when you’d come to my bed smelling just like this,” Molly said.
“Molly…” Pete grabbed at his head. “I…”
She shook her head at him.
“Don’t be an ass,” Molly said. “Let’s try to get him inside.”
Pete dropped down next to Molly to take a real look at the boy. He pulled up one of the boy’s sleeves. Track marks and…
“He’s been beaten,” Pete raised his shirt. “Kicked. We’d better not move him.”
“Pete! I will not leave this child here.”
“I’m not saying to leave him,” Pete said. “We need to call 911. You go call. I’ll get some blankets for him.”
“Stay with him, Pete,” Molly said. “Don’t leave him alone. I can bring blankets.”
Charlie began a deep chest rattling cough. The boy spit up blood and vomit. Dropping down next to Charlie, Pete leaned the boy over his lap. He patted the boy’s back while he vomited between Pete’s legs.
“Go call!” Pete said.
Molly pulled her cell phone from her purse. Within minutes, the police, ambulance, and fire department were there. Sandy and Jill arrived just as the paramedics were loading Charlie into the ambulance. Sandy went into the ambulance with him.
“What happened?” Jill asked.
“We don’t know. We found him,” Pete said. “He was waiting for Sandy.”
“I’m going to meet Sandy at Denver Health,” Jill said. “Molly?”
“We can’t,” Molly said. “We used our out time.”
“Do you want to come?”
“I’ll stay with Pete,” Molly said.
“Good,” Jill said. “I’ll let you know what happens.”
Jill hugged Molly. With a wave to Pete, she got back in her SUV and drove off.
“Dinner?” Pete asked.
“We used our time,” Molly repeated.
“We can order something,” Pete said. He watched her face. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve never seen you… take care of someone… anyone,” Molly’s eyes filled with tears.
Pete pulled her to him. He held her for a moment.
“You’ve really changed,” Molly pounded on his chest. “Why? Why now? After everything that’s happened, why now? Why not for me or the kids or…?”
“All of this is for you,” Pete said. “The workouts, the meetings, the job, the sobriety, every moment of every day… it’s all for you.”
“What are you talking about? None of this is for me!”
“No Molly, everything I’ve done is for you,” Pete said. “I had this experience and…”
“What?”
He sighed.
“Just tell me,” she said. “I can handle it.”
“I remember… They were doing surgery on my brain. I had to be awake or
sort of awake. The doctors were talking to each other. One doctors telling some story. I don’t remember what. And this creature came. The doctor told me it was a hallucination but I…”
“Creature?”
“It glowed white but looked…” he shivered. “It was a cross between a demon and an angel. Maybe it was both. It asked me what I wanted. I said I wanted my life back.”
“You always say that,” Molly said. Mimicking his voice, she added, “I want my life back so I can piss it away again.”
“That’s exactly what the creature said,” Pete said. “Were you there?”
Molly gave him a tearful smile.
“We argued,” Pete said. “The creature asked me, ‘Why should I give you your life back?’ I had no answer for him. None. And I was fading. Finally, I said ‘I want to spend every day making Molly’s life good’ or something like that. The creature said, ‘How?’ And my mind flooded with all the things you love – the kids, pink roses, spicy green chili, your friends, the smell of morning rain, numbers and…”
He stopped talking. Molly looked up into his face.
“And?” Molly asked.
“Me,” Pete said. “I finally understood how much you loved me. I don’t know why it took so long. I don’t but… “
Molly clasped him to her.
“I want to be the man you need me to be,” Pete said. “I can be loving. I can be strong. I can build things. I can be loyal, dependable, even reliable. Whatever you need, that’s who I’m going to be.”
Molly held him close.
“Well, as much as an asshole like me can be,” Pete said. “I can’t really change that.”
Molly laughed.
“Come on,” Pete said. “I’ll show you my incredible Chinese food ordering skills.”
With a nod, Molly followed him back into the salon.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED and NINE
Cycle
Monday evening — 6:45 P.M.
“You’re his…” the Emergency Room resident said.
Sandy, Jill and Jill’s mother, Anjelika, were sitting in a family waiting area at Denver Health when the resident approached. He was looking for Charlie’s mother. Sandy jumped to her feet to speak with the resident but he recognized her from the newspaper stories about her father. The resident didn’t want anything to do with her. Sandy wrapped her arms around herself for comfort.
“Sister,” Sandy said.
“Where is his mother?” the resident asked.
“She’s out of the picture,” Sandy said. “I’m all he has.”
“I don’t think I can give you an update. I…” the resident started.
“Listen,” Anjelika smiled her beautiful smile. “The mother doesn’t want her children. And we are paying your bill. In order to pay that bill, we need information to make decisions.”
Taken back by Angelika’s beauty and elegance, the resident stumbled over words.
“Uh… We could get into real trouble. We’re only supposed to release information to legal guardians or…”
“I see,” Anjelika smiled again. “May I speak with your supervisor? We were told that we needed to make decisions right away. That is, of course, after my daughter guaranteed payment.”
“He’s sixteen,” Seth’s deep voice came from the door. “You don’t need a guardian to make his medical decisions. Since I assume he’s unconscious, his next of kin will have to decide for him.”
“Seth!” Sandy said.
Seth hugged her.
“How is Charlie?” he asked.
“We don’t know,” Sandy said. “This… doctor won’t tell us.”
“Detective O’Malley, Denver PD,” Seth said to the resident. “The nurse told me there was a family meeting going on. There is a police investigation into this matter. Will you give me the information?”
“Uh,” the resident blushed then nodded. “The boy’s in pretty bad shape.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“He’s been injecting methamphetamines for some time,” the resident said. “He’s dehydrated and malnourished. He was badly beaten by multiple assailants. His organs are bruised. His spleen needs to come out and possibly a portion of his intestines. His liver is bruised. We won’t know his virus status until tomorrow.”
“What about his head?” Sandy asked.
“He seems to have protected his head,” the resident said. “He has some cracked ribs, one broken.”
“Is that why he has a cough? Was spitting up blood?”
“He has pneumonia,” the doctor said. “His lungs are inflamed from smoking meth. He probably has a bleeding ulcer. Most meth addicts do. We won’t know until we do more tests.”
“Does he need surgery?” Anjelika asked.
“We can’t do anything until he’s stable,” the resident said. “His biggest problem right now is that he’s coming off the meth.”
“Broken bones?” Anjelika said.
“Except for the rib, cracked,” the resident said. “Right humerus, femur, malleolus, couple of spinous processes. His right side saw the worst of the beating. Listen, we see these kids all the time. They get high and beat on each other. They think it’s fun.”
“For fun?” Sandy’s face reflected the horror she felt.
“They come in beaten up, leave and come back again. It’s like a revolving door.”
“Have you seen this kid before?” Seth asked.
“I haven’t but he’s been here before,” the resident said. “About six weeks ago. High on meth, of course. He’d broken a clavicle, his collar bone. His mother filled out the paper work and left him here. Skipped out on the bill.”
“We’ve already agreed to pay all the bills,” Jill said.
“His collar bone never healed so he’ll need to get that set.”
“We’d like you to take good care of the boy,” Anjelika said.
“Right now, he has to stabilize,” the resident said. “But he doesn’t have much of a chance. He’s a street kid, a meth head no less. You need to face the facts. These kids don’t get better. They only get dead.”
“My boyfriend, uh, husband was a street kid,” Sandy said. “He’s the CEO of Lipson Construction now.”
“That was then. You probably don’t have AIDs either,” the resident sniffed at Sandy. “Life on the streets is meaner, harder, and more severe now. Most kids die. We see families here all the time. They get their kid better and a month later the kid is back on the streets.”
“Why do you think that is?” Seth asked.
“It runs in families,” the resident said. “Child prostitutes, street kids. What do you expect? People like him… and you are throw aways, garbage.”
Sandy recoiled as if she’d been hit. As if to protect her, Anjelika pulled her into a hug.
“I think we’d like another doctor,” Jill said. “In fact, since I’m paying this bill, let’s see what your attending doctor has to say. Better yet…”
Jill was about to dial her cell phone when a familiar Englishman stuck his head in the room. Jill smiled at Dr. John Drayson. He was their friend Alex Hargreaves’s husband, and a vascular surgeon. He worked at Denver Health.
“I just heard about Charlie,” Dr. Drayson said in a clipped British accent. He looked at Jill and Sandy. “What’s going on here?”
“This creature just told us that Charlie was a throw away,” Jill said. “Like Sandy.”
“He did?” Dr Drayson gave the resident a hard look.
“Doctor, he…”
“Why don’t you give me a minute?” Dr. Drayson asked. “I’ll check in on Charlie and get you another doctor.”
Grabbing the back of the resident’s jacket, Dr. Drayson pulled him out of the room. They could hear their terse conversation as they walked down the hall.
“What do we do?” Sandy asked.
“We trust our friends to help us,” Anjelika said.
“And we wait,” Seth said. “Can I bring anyone coffee?”
“Please,” Anjel
ika said. “For everyone.”
Seth nodded.
“It’s going to be a long night,” Anjelika said.
Jill, Sandy and Anjelika settled in to wait.
~~~~~~~~
Monday evening — 7:30 P.M. PDT
Hollywood, CA
Expecting to find Mike on the other side of the door, Valerie came out of the bathroom without a towel. She’d just taken a quick post-set shower. His eyes were full of promise when she laughed and closed the bathroom door on his face. He’d promised to order dinner while she showered.
And she was starving.
They were staying in a six hundred square foot garden cottage at the Chateau Marmont. Puzzled, she peeked into the bedroom.
No Mike.
Her bare feet left moisture marks on the dark wood floors as she padded around the little cottage. He wasn’t in the living room watching hockey. She knew he wasn’t in the kitchen. Turning in place, she trotted back to the bedroom for her clothes. She grabbed a pair of jeans. Unable to button them, she grabbed a pair of workout pants and a T-shirt.
Mike had spent the day painting in the hotel’s gardens. Maybe he’d returned to see the gardens. She was about to leave the cottage when she saw Mike’s art supplies tucked away in his usual neat military stack.
Not sure what to do, she sat down on the couch and waited. She was just about to call home when she heard Mike’s key in the door.
“Oh you got dressed,” he said. He looked genuinely disappointed. “Sorry.”
“I was worried.” She ran to his arms.
“Yeah, sorry,” he said. “I heard Wes was in the bar here and decided to go have it out with him.”
“How did that go?”
“He’s on his way to the hospital,” he said. “I guess the police will be here soon.”
She pulled back to look at him and he laughed. She slapped at him until he pulled her back into his arms.
“I went to call for dinner and I realized there was a message,” he said. “I wasn’t in the room all day. After you called, I dropped my painting supplies and went to get you. Anyway, the front desk said they signed for a letter for me. It was in their safe.”
“Safe?”
Cimarron, Denver Cereal Volume 4 Page 22