by Willow Rose
Jean flew backward, screaming, and landed on the tiles. She slid across the floor until her back slammed against the wall. She looked down in her hand and realized she still had the knife. As her attacker stood above her, bending down, she lifted it. The knife slid through the skin on her attacker’s cheek. Her attacker pulled backward with a shriek, then felt the cheek and the blood.
“What the…You…”
“Please, don’t; please, don’t hurt me anymore,” Jean pleaded, trying to cover her face with her hands.
Her attacker tried to grab her, but she swung the knife again and cut her attacker on the upper arm. The sound of the knife going through the flesh made the hairs rise on her neck. Blood gushed out on the attacker’s white shirt and dripped down on their white sneakers.
I can’t believe I just did that.
Her attacker screamed in pain but didn’t let go of Jean. A fist whistled through the air and landed on Jean’s nose, then another on her cheek, while her attacker lifted her, then threw her across the room. As Jean landed, her attacker came down on her, ready to throw more punches. But somehow, Jean managed to swing the knife again and cut her attacker in the thigh. This one went deep, and she almost didn’t get the knife back out. She had to pull really hard to keep the weapon in her hand.
Her attacker screamed, then felt the wound. Seconds later, more punches fell, and Jean kept cutting her attacker in the leg, then the arm, until her attacker finally managed to grab the arm that she was using for the knife, and bent it back so hard Jean dropped the knife. Her attacker then picked up the knife, turned it against her, and stabbed Jean. Jean screamed loudly. Her attacker grabbed the knife and pulled it out again, then raised it above Jean’s chest. She swung it toward Jean when the door suddenly shattered to pieces, and someone stormed in. Next, a gun was placed to the attacker’s head.
“Don’t you even dare,” sounded Harry’s deep voice.
Jean felt a wave of great relief run through her as she saw his handsome face tower up behind her attacker. Harry stared at the woman holding Jean, his nostrils flaring, his eyes ablaze.
“You make one wrong move, and you’re gone. Do you understand?”
Chapter 48
Dalisay raised her hands in the air and let the knife fall to the tiles with a clang. She turned to look at me. Jean moaned and tried to move away from her attacker but was in too much pain. She had been stabbed in the leg and was losing blood, a lot of it.
Lucy came up behind me, then gasped as she saw Jean in a pool of blood.
“Call 911,” I said. “Quick.”
Lucy did. I heard her leave with the phone against her ear, talking to dispatch. I had Dalisay cuffed to a chair, then told one of the girls to keep an eye on her and let me know if she moved.
I took off my shirt and used it to try to stop the bleeding, but blood was gushing out, and Jean was turning pale. She didn’t have long. It felt like the ambulance took forever to arrive.
“Harry…I…,” she said, squirming in pain. Her eyes were matte and weak. My heart pounded in my chest. I wasn’t losing her today.
“Shh,” I said. “Don’t say anything. We can talk later when you’re better.”
She grabbed my hand in hers. She squeezed it tight. I looked into her eyes and tried to calm her down, caressing her cheek gently. It was hard not to cry, seeing her like this and knowing it was all my fault.
“H-how?” she asked, looking into my eyes. “How did you know?”
I glanced at Dalisay, sitting on the chair. “Her tattoo. When she let me in the first time, I saw she had this tattoo on her arm by her wrist. I used to travel in the Philippines. I knew that tattoo was the mark of the Bahala Na Gang, a Philippine gang known for their brutality and terror regime in the country. When I found out it wasn’t William who had killed them, I knew she was the only one here capable of murder. It suddenly all added up in a strange way. When I met her the first time, there was also something else that I noticed in her. She spoke to me in Filipino, but her dialect reminded me of how they spoke on an island I had visited when I traveled there. Jeju Island, where a community of women, some as old as eighty, goes diving ten meters under the sea to gather shellfish without the use of oxygen masks. Her dialect reminded me of them, and I guessed she grew up there. I knew the killer needed to have good diving skills and be more than an excellent swimmer. Finally, it was also something William’s mother said when I first came here; she said that Dalisay took care of them all. That struck me as an odd choice of words, but I didn’t make it out till just now. Dalisay would literally do anything for William, probably because he made her. She was the one who killed the girls, one after another. She also tried to run me off the road so William could use the fact that I wasn’t on my post to get me off his back.”
Jean tried to chuckle, but then something else happened, something that terrified me to the core. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her body went limp.
“No, Jean, no,” I said, slapping her cheeks to try and wake her. “Don’t you dare leave me now, Jean! JEAN!”
I shook her, trying to wake her, but she was gone. Panic erupted inside me. Suddenly, I was taken back to that day, years ago, when I held Camille in my arms the very same way, shaking her, screaming her name as she hung lifeless in my arms. My heart felt like it was going to explode as I relived everything from that terrifying day. I screamed her name, while I frantically shook her, tears spilling from my eyes.
“Don’t do this to me, Jean. Don’t you dare leave me too.”
Chapter 49
I was still in the waiting room at the hospital when Fowler came to see me. He wasn’t exactly who I wanted to see at this point, but he didn’t seem to come here to fight. He didn’t have that look in his eyes as he walked closer. He sat down in a chair next to me, then gave me half a smile before asking:
“How’s she doing? Any news?”
I shook my head. My nails were almost gone. I could still barely breathe. So much of this reminded me of when I brought in Camille. I never thought I’d find myself in this position again. It scared me like nothing else. Would I ever get to see Jean again? The thought of losing another woman I loved was unbearable.
“Nothing,” I said, my voice shivering. “It’s been hours.”
Fowler nodded and gave me a sympathetic look. “We took the maid in and are in the process of interrogating all the girls. What a story this is turning out to be. It’s a terrible mess.”
“And William Covington?” I asked.
“That’s why I came,” Fowler said. “He wasn’t there when we arrived. He must have escaped at some point in all the chaos.”
I stomped my feet in agitation. “No! Argh, it’s all my fault. I was so focused on Jean that I didn’t keep an eye on him. How could I have been so stupid!”
Fowler placed a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay. We’ll get him. The girls are finally talking, telling us everything he’s been up to. We’re getting a lot of stuff on him. He’s still just a young kid; he can’t have gone far.”
I exhaled tiredly and rubbed my face. “You don’t know William very well, then. He’s capable of a lot of things.”
“We’ll get him. I’ve put up roadblocks all over town, and we have searches out everywhere. He can’t leave town without me knowing; be certain of that. If he as much as farts, I’ll know about it.”
I nodded with a deep exhale. “I sure hope you’re right. I wouldn’t be able to stand it if he got away with what he has done. He’s slippery like a snake, never getting his own hands dirty. Is the maid talking?”
“Not a word,” Fowler said. “But we’ll get her to.”
“I sure hope so. Get her to tell everything, especially how William got her to kill for him.”
Fowler smiled and blinked. “There’s the detective I know so well. Determined and relentless. Welcome back.”
He patted me on the back with a laugh.
“I missed you, bro. I knew you could solve this case.”
I
lifted both eyebrows. “Did you now?”
“Never doubted it for a second. Morales and his team are good, but who am I kidding? They couldn’t catch a killer like that. Once Jean is better, and you’ve rested for a bit, then come to see me. I’m putting you back in homicide.”
I nodded and gave him half a smile. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Fowler rose to his feet with a sigh. “Now, I have to get back. Lots of work to be done in the coming days. Let me know when you hear news, okay? We’re all rooting for her.”
“Thanks, Fowler. That means a lot to me.”
He left, and I was once again all alone in the waiting room, sitting in the uncomfortable chairs, waiting. I closed my eyes, then slid off the chair and onto my knees, folding my hands. I remembered sitting in that very same position when Camille was fighting for her life and then realizing that she had survived yet suffered brain damage. I remembered how angry I got at God after that. I hadn’t prayed like this since.
“Please, dear God, let Jean live,” I said. “I know it’s selfish, but I need her. I know I’ve been angry with you. I was so mad at you when you took Camille away. I felt like it was a cruel joke. You let her live like I prayed about, yet she never really came back to me. This time, I pray that Jean will survive and that she’ll recover and be herself fully. Please, dear God, don’t take her away from me too...I beg…”
I was still on my knees, literally, when the doors opened, and the doctor came into the room. I rose to my feet, heart hammering against my rib cage as I walked to him, just as I had done three years ago when I received the news about Camille.
“Doctor?”
I swallowed, pressing back my tears. So many bad memories, so much fear and anxiety I had to face at this moment; it was overwhelming.
If she doesn’t make it, I don’t know what I’m going to do.
“She’s going to be fine, Detective,” he said with a soft smile. “She lost a lot of blood, but she’s no longer in critical condition. She’s gonna be okay. You can breathe again.”
Chapter 50
It was late before I got home. I walked inside and found my dad sleeping in the recliner, the TV running loudly. He woke up as I slammed the door shut.
“Harry?”
He sat up straight and turned off the TV.
“She’ll be fine,” I said. “I even got to talk to her briefly before she had to go to sleep. I stayed for a little while to make sure she was good.”
My dad pulled me into a deep hug, then patted me on the shoulder. His worried eyes lingered on me, and he tried to hide it behind a smile. He, too, had been concerned about Jean, no doubt about it. He was very fond of her.
“Da-a-ad!”
Josie came tumbling down the stairs and threw herself into my arms. “How is she?”
“Like I texted you earlier, she’ll be fine. But she’s tired. She’s lost a lot of blood. She told me to tell you that she misses you, though, and she’ll be back as soon as possible.”
“Were you scared, Daddy?”
“I was, sweetie. I really was.”
“I was praying for her, Daddy,” she said.
“That’s why she’s fine,” I said. “God listens to you. Now, go and get ready for bed.”
Josie’s smile vanished. “Could you tuck me in tonight? I got really scared when I heard about Jean.”
That made me smile. Josie hadn’t wanted me to tuck her in for a long time since she felt she was too old for that now. I poked her nose.
“You betcha. Now, go, get ready.”
She kissed my cheek, then ran up the stairs, and I turned to face my dad, suddenly feeling the exhaustion and hunger from a very long and intense day.
“There’s pizza on the counter,” my dad said like he read my mind.
I grabbed a piece and bit into it, then went for a beer in the fridge and opened it. I sank into the couch next to my dad with a deep sigh, eating my pizza, and drinking my beer. Later, I tucked my daughter in, and, as my dad left, I went to our bedroom and sat by Camille, then told her everything that had happened that day.
I must have dozed off in the chair because, when I woke up, the clock by the window said three a.m. I felt sore from sleeping in a chair and moved my upper body when I heard a noise. It sounded like someone struggling. It came from across the hallway.
Josie!
I sprang to my feet and stormed toward her room. The door was ajar, and inside, I saw a shadow move. I opened the door completely.
“Josie? Are you all right?”
Inside, I saw something that made my heart stop.
“William?”
He had pulled Josie out of bed and was holding his arm around her neck in a tight grip. He held a gun to her head.
“Dad?” she whimpered.
I reached out my hand toward them. “William, don’t do anything stupid. We can talk about this.”
“One step closer, and she dies,” William said, speaking through gritted teeth. He had a look in his eyes that told me he was desperate enough to kill her if he had to.
“What do you want?” I asked. “I assume you didn’t come here to kill my daughter. You want something from me, am I right? Put the gun down, and we’ll talk.”
William grinned, but he didn’t put down the gun. “I do need something from you. You’re right about that,” he said. “But, I’m going to do the talking, and you’ll listen.”
“I am listening,” I said. “Just, please, don’t hurt her. What do you need?”
“I can’t get out of this town since they have these darn roadblocks everywhere. I need you to help me get out of here. You help me, and I might let her live.”
Chapter 51
“I came here on foot,” William said. “I don’t have any means of transportation.”
We had walked outside my townhouse. He was still holding Josie tightly, the gun to her head.
“All I have is a motorcycle,” I said. “The minivan I drove while protecting you belonged to the police department, and they took it back while I was at the hospital. I took a taxi home.”
“Don’t detectives have unmarked cars?” William asked.
“Yes, but mine broke down two weeks ago.”
“I guess we’re going on a bike ride, then,” he said. “Let’s go.”
I took the bike out and got on it. William approached, still holding Josie. I shook my head when realizing what his plan was. My daughter realized it too.
“Da-ad?”
“No, no, we can’t ride this with more than two people,” I said.
He gave me a suspicious look. “Of course, we can. The girl takes up no space.”
“It’s too dangerous,” I said. “Not to mention illegal. The police will stop us if they see us.”
“So, you’ll outrun them. You’re faster than they are. I’m not letting go of her. She’s my security that you’ll do as I tell you. I’m not letting her go.”
“Dad?” Josie said, whimpering.
I shook my head. There was no way I could allow this. I usually never allowed Josie on the bike. It was too dangerous, especially with three people on it. If we crashed, Josie would most surely die. I didn’t even have enough helmets for three people.
But William wasn’t going to budge.
He stared at me, pressing the gun against Josie’s head. “Either we all get on that bike, or she dies. It’s your choice.”
I exhaled, terrified. “All right. All right. But at least give her your helmet.”
“No way,” he said and urged Josie to get on the bike behind me. She reached her arms around my waist and hugged me, then leaned her head against my back. I could feel how her body was shaking with fear.
I took off my helmet and handed it to Josie. “Here, put that on, and hold on tight. It might get bumpy.”
Chapter 52
My bike roared to life underneath me, and we soared into the dark night, my worried heart pounding in my chest as I swung the bike out onto the road. Josie held onto me tightly and h
id her face behind my back. I wanted to comfort her so badly, to take her in my arms and tell her it would all be fine, that soon everything would be okay again. But I couldn’t. I knew William probably had the gun pressed against her back, and she had to be beyond terrified.
“There’s a roadblock coming up at the end of this road,” I said as we had reached the end of 19th Avenue and turned down Flagler Street, driving past the seafood market where I used to take Camille when we were younger.
“What do you want to do?”
“Show them your badge. Don’t they know you?” he asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “They’ll never let us through with three people on a bike.”
“Take another road,” he said. “One that doesn’t have a roadblock.”
“I don’t know all the roadblocks, if that’s what you think,” I yelled through the noise from my bike.
“Do it anyway.”
I did as he told me to and swung down 22nd Avenue. There was no roadblock, so we continued further down 22nd until we reached Dixie. William told me to speed up, so I did, hoping that a patrol car would see us and stop us. I rode past a place where I knew a patrol usually kept an eye out, and I was right. It was there, as usual. I roared past the car, speeding excessively past it, making as much noise as I possibly could.
It worked. Seconds later, the cruiser followed.
“Shoot,” William said. “They’re following us. Lose them!”
“I’m going as fast as I can,” I yelled back.
I felt the gun pressed against my neck. “I don’t think you are.”
“It’s dangerous to go faster,” I said. “I risk killing us all if we crash.”