Fort Lupton

by Christian, Claudia Hall

“It doesn’t,” Heather nodded. “But he’s already fallen for Nelson.”

  “Nelson who works at Denver Crime Lab?” Tres asked.

  Heather nodded.

  “Huh,” Tres said. He looked at Heather for a moment. “That’s a lot to digest. You guys planned this?”

  “No,” Heather said. “We planned that he would be my husband, father of my children, until my mom took me. But now that I can stay — one human lifetime, that’s the deal — we can make other decisions. For now . . .”

  “Blane has to heal,” Tres said.

  “Our first priority,” Heather nodded. It can take up to a year for him to have full immune function, that's assuming that he doesn't reject the infusion or get sick or..."

  Tres grinned at her.

  "What?" She asked.

  “It’s so clean, all above board,” Tres said.

  “That’s Blane,” Heather said. “No hurt feelings.”

  Tres nodded. Their eyes held for a moment. Heather blushed and looked down.

  “I should go,” Tres said.

  “Me too,” Heather said. “I need to get back to Denver Health to bring Tink clothes and then get to Saint Joe’s to see Blane.”

  “A day of many hospitals,” Tres said.

  Heather nodded.

  “But we . . .” Tres said.

  Heather nodded. Tres grinned. Without saying another word, he walked out of the house. Heather blew out a breath. She waited until she heard him drive off before picking up the duffle bag and her handbag on her way outside. Once in her car, she smiled.

  He was definitely the bright spot in a very hard day.

  She started the car and headed toward Denver Health.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Wednesday morning — 10:05 a.m.

  “I don’t understand,” Sandy said.

  Aden put his arm around her shoulder to try to keep her calm. She looked like she was going to scream or cry or both. Of course, Sandy would never do anything like that. She glanced at him and turned back to the doctor.

  “Charlie was supposed to die,” Sandy said. “That’s what you’re telling me.”

  “He had massive internal bleeding,” the doctor said. “We removed his spleen. His liver is in shreds. He has a few broken vertebrae and . . .”

  The doctor shook his head.

  “We’ve opened his skull to relieve the pressure,” the doctor said.

  “But?” Sandy asked.

  “He’s still a very sick young man,” the doctor said.

  “If he makes it today, you’ll have to go back in,” Sandy repeated something the surgeon had said last night.

  “I’d encourage you to focus on today,” the doctor said.

  “Because you still think he’s going to die,” Sandy said.

  The doctor stared at Sandy. His eyelids flicked over his dark eyes like shutters. He swallowed hard. Blink, blink, swallow, followed by blink, blink, swallow.

  “When would the surgery happen?” Sandy asked.

  “Later today.” The doctor looked relieved to have something to say.

  Sandy nodded.

  “There’s nothing you can do but wait,” the doctor said.

  “I’m sorry,” Sandy said. “But there’s everything we can do.”

  The doctor looked at her as if she were covered in explosives and showing him the detonator.

  “We can be with him,” Sandy said. “Read to him, love him, pray for him . . .”

  “Well, I . . .” the doctor said.

  “You’re going to give us access,” Sandy said.

  “I . . .”

  Sandy gave him a stern look, and the doctor flushed.

  “That’s my little brother,” Sandy said. “You’ll give us access or . . . we’ll just take it.”

  She sniffed at the man.

  “One at a time,” the doctor said. “Fifteen minutes max. But if he gets worse or the visits are distracting to other patients, you’ll be cut off.”

  As if he were in control of the situation, the doctor gave her an authoritative nod. She responded as if he’d given her a lollipop. He scowled at her and left the private family room. Sandy sneered at his back.

  “Asshole,” Sandy said under her breath.

  “What did you have in mind?” Aden asked.

  “I want Heather and Jill here. Now,” Sandy said. “Sissy and Tink will stay here. Seth and Ava. Everyone from the Castle, of course. And we need to get that Akeem.”

  “Rodney’s charge?” Aden asked.

  “Him.” Sandy nodded. “You’ll make a schedule.”

  “Uh . . .” Aden gave a quick shake of his head. “What?”

  “We’re going hospital to hospital,” Sandy said. “While we’re here, the others will be there. We need a schedule. You’re good at making those. Organizing shifts.”

  “Do I need to know what you’re doing at these hospitals?” Aden asked.

  “Love,” Sandy said. “We’re going to infuse Charlie with love. Blane too.”

  Looking up at him, she gave Aden a fierce look.

  “Nobody dies today.” Sandy nodded.

  She turned away from Aden to face the wall. For a moment, she rounded her shoulders and let her head fall into her hands. As if it had never happened, her shoulders pushed back. She turned to look at Sissy and Tink. The girls gave her an intimidated look.

  “Nobody dies today,” Sandy repeated. “Now, where is my phone?”

  ~~~~~~~~

  Wednesday morning — 11:25 a.m.

  Seth slid the sliding glass door open and stopped. The den in front of him was a mess. The cabinets were open, and their contents had been spilled all over the floor. He stepped inside.

  “Maresol!” Seth yelled. “Maresol!”

  He heard a moan and ran into the room. He jumped over the spilled contents of his vinyl record collection and slid across the tile through a pile of books. He rounded the bar and ran into the kitchen.

  There was a small puddle of blood, more like a spill than an entire body’s worth.

  “Maresol?” Seth asked.

  He heard a noise from the cabinet under the bar. He opened the cabinet door and Maresol fell out. She’d been stuffed inside the cabinet with her knees up against her chin. She’d fallen onto her side. Seth dropped to the floor. He was checking her neck for her pulse when her eyes fluttered open. Her face was grey and her breathing shallow.

  “Oh, Maresol,” Seth said.

  “Seth,” she whispered. As if it hurt, her hands went to the back of her head. “Is he gone?”

  “Who?” Seth asked. He tried to move her hands to look at the wound on her head.

  “Oso rojo,” Maresol’s mouth formed the words. “Police.”

  Seth stiffened.

  “He did this?” Seth asked.

  “Hit me,” Maresol said. “I hid when he went up . . .”

  There was a smash as something fell over upstairs.

  “Call the police,” Maresol’s eyes begged him. “He wants to kill you. Said he would. Let them deal with it.”

  Hearing a noise, Seth looked up to see Dale, their young, resident handyman looking over the bar at them.

  “We should kick his ass,” Dale said.

  “Dale!” Maresol said.

  There was another crash upstairs.

  “The guy who did this is . . .?” Dale asked. He pointed to the ceiling.

  “No heroics,” Seth said.

  “But . . .” Dale started.

  “Please,” Maresol said.

  She looked so sick that Dale gave an agreeing nod.

  “We’ll let the Denver Police handle their own mess,” Seth said.

  He waved for Dale to get Maresol’s other arm. Together, they mostly carried her out to the pool area in the carriage house. Seth called the police from there. They waited only a few minutes before the first police officer appeared at the back gate. He helped them get Maresol out of the backyard. Once out of the yard, the officer asked Seth and Dale to stay out of the house and garden.<
br />
  When the ambulance came for Maresol, Seth insisted that he and Dale go with her. A few minutes later, Maresol was wheeled into the emergency room at Denver Health. Seth pushed and prodded Dale to go with him to find Sandy.

  “Oh good, you’re here,” Sandy said.

  She scanned Seth’s face.

  “What happened?” Sandy asked.

  “Maresol was knocked unconscious at the house,” Seth said.

  “Maresol!” Sandy’s hand went to her heart. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s in emergency,” Seth said. “Looks like a flesh wound, but she’s not exactly young.”

  “You heard they opened Charlie’s . . .”

  Sandy gestured to the crown of her head, and Seth nodded.

  “What were they after?” Sandy asked.

  Seth winced, and Sandy’s mouth fell open with surprise.

  “Andy’s symphony . . .” Sandy said.

  Seth nodded.

  “Red Bear,” Sandy whispered. “He’s alive.”

  “Asshole was there when we left,” Dale said.

  “Oh God, poor Maresol,” Sandy said. She looked at Dale, and then back at Seth. “Where’s Ava?”

  “With her sister,” Seth said. “At the homestead.”

  “The way this day is going, you’d better check,” Sandy said.

  Seth dialed his cellphone.

  “How are you at loving?” Sandy asked Dale.

  “What?” Dale asked.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Wednesday afternoon — 1:25 p.m. ET

  Atlanta, Georgia

  “Nasty business,” the family court judge said.

  “Sir, we’re not sure what’s going on here,” Ephraim James, the Atlanta lawyer Schmidty hired said. “Truth be told, we believe it’s a matter for the police.”

  “That’s the truth,” the family court judge said.

  “We’d like to let the police work out the details,” Ephraim said.

  “While you take the boy home?” the judge said.

  “Yes, sir,” Ephraim James said. “We’d very much like to take the child home to Denver, where he belongs.”

  “Those are the details to be worked out.” The judge looked over his reading glasses at Jeraine, Bumpy, Dionne, and Yvonne. He glanced at Annette, her boyfriend, and attorney. “Funny thing.”

  “Yes, sir?” Ephraim asked.

  “I happen to know the Denver judge in this case,” the judge said. “Now I don’t know all of the family court judges in Denver, or even in Atlanta, for that matter. But Judge Teirten and I happened to have been on a few panels together — at conferences, you know. Turns out, there aren’t a lot of judges who deal with celebrities’ custody issues.”

  The family court judge looked down the row of people on Jeraine’s side of the court and then down the row on Annette’s side. His eyes returned to look at Jeraine.

  “I called him as soon as I was assigned this case,” the judge said. “You know what he said?”

  “No, sir,” Ephraim said.

  “He said this matter was resolved,” the judge said. “Signed, stamped, and delivered. Just yesterday, for that matter.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ephraim said. “I’ve submitted a copy of the custody arrangement that Judge Teirten approved yesterday.”

  “I see that copy here,” the judge said.

  “Sir, we’d like to remind you that the father in this case telephoned my client and insisted that Ms. Annette take the boy,” Annette’s attorney said.

  “That’s what’s confusing to me,” the judge said. “This custody arrangement . . . It took a lot of time and a lot of thought.”

  The judge waved the agreement to show its bulk.

  “You can almost smell the billable hours,” the judge said. “Now why would a father spend all that time and all that money — and this document reeks of money — only to telephone his ex to have her come pick up the boy?”

  “His wife has forced him into . . .” Annette’s attorney said.

  “How dare you?” Jeraine’s indignant voice echoed through the court. “They almost killed my father-in-law’s dog!”

  “Mr. Wilson.” The judge put his index finger to his lips. “I don’t have any problem sticking you in jail here in Atlanta, but that’s not going to help your boy.”

  Jeraine nodded.

  “On the matter of the canine.” Annette’s attorney stepped across the space between the tables and set a document down. “We are requesting the City and County of Denver detain and evaluate for disposal the ferocious animal that attacked Ms. Annette’s friend, as well as, compensation from Mr. Wilson, who did, in fact, instruct them to remove the child.”

  The judge waved the attorney’s forward with the document. The courtroom was silent while the judge, Schmidty, and Ephraim James read the document. Schmidty finished first. He set the document down on the table out of Jeraine’s reach. Jeraine tried to get the document, but Schmidty blocked him. Bumpy put his hand on Jeraine’s shoulders to steady his son. After a few minutes, the judge set the document down.

  “I must say,” the judge said with a nod, “this is definitely a unique situation.”

  Chapter Three hundred and eight

  In the matter of

  The judge took off his reading glasses.

  “Here we have a child, who was stuffed onto an airplane by Ms. Annette, who happens to have no last name,” the judge said. He looked around on the desk. He held up a DVD and a paper report. “This event was well documented both by the national broadcast of the mother’s reality television show and an investigation by the Atlanta Police. It’s also a part of an active investigation led by the Department of Family and Child Services with the two siblings of the child in question in protective care.”

  He dropped the reports and DVD onto the desk.

  “And now, the child in question has been allegedly thrown out of the house by his father,” the judge said. “Only after his father spent considerable time working through a detailed transition and custody agreement.”

  The judge lifted the thick document and then dropped it onto his desk.

  “Your Honor,” Ephraim James said.

  The judge held his hand up to silence the attorney.

  “I hear myself and I think, ‘This child is a pawn in some sick game of the parents,’” the judge said. “The child should be placed in protective custody, as these parents clearly cannot care for the child.”

  “You can’t do that!” Yvonne jumped to her feet. “Jabari belongs at home, in Denver, with us.”

  The judge waved her down in her seat. Yvonne gave him strong look, and he nodded. Reluctantly, she sat down.

  “But I have this report from Denver Human Services that says that the minor — whose name happens to be Jabari Wilson — is well loved and happy with his father and his father’s wife. The child even calls his father’s wife, ‘Mommy,’” the judge said. “The report further states that the child has a close, loving relationship with Mr. and Mrs. Smith, whom he’s been living with while this custody matter is resolved. In short, this child is no pawn in anyone’s game. He is well loved and well cared for in his new home in Denver, which, in case you weren’t aware, happens to be in the state of Colorado. This a key issue in this matter as Denver, Colorado, where the child is happily resides, is not in the state of Georgia.”

  The judge looked at Annette.

  “I don’t know what you’re up to,” the judge said. “I doubt you do, either. But this child is returning to the care of Denver Human Services. It’s my understanding that they are here as well.”

  Risa, Jabari’s social worker from Denver Human Services, stood up.

  “Did you write this report?” the judge asked.

  “Yes, your Honor,” she said.

  “And it’s your belief that the child is happy with his father and his father’s wife,” the judge said.

  “Yes, your Honor,” she said.

  “The matter of the custody of Jabari Wilson is turned over to Denve
r Human Services.” The judge banged his gavel. “As far as I can tell, the rest of this is a matter for law enforcement.”

  Without saying another word, the judge stood up. Annette started screaming. Shaking his head, the judge left the chamber. Annette lunged at Jeraine and managed to rack her long nails across his cheek before He-Man stepped between them. He-Man turned Jeraine around and marched him out of the courtroom.

  “I’m not done with him,” Annette yelled. She caught Yvonne looking at her. “Wha’chu looking at?”

  “Nothing nice,” Yvonne said.

  “Why you . . .?” Annette started for Yvonne, but her boyfriend held her back.

  Yvonne shook her head.

  “Come on, Yvie,” Dionne said. “We don’t need any of that.”

  Yvonne gave Annette a nod and followed Bumpy and Dionne out of the courtroom.

  “The good news is that Jabari is coming home,” Risa, the social worker, said.

  “And the bad news?” Dionne asked.

  “This matter has become very personal to Ms. Annette,” Bumpy said. “She is not going to forget this humiliation.”

  “It’s not over.” Yvonne nodded.

  “No, sadly, it is not,” Risa said.

  “For all our efforts to the contrary, we’ve made ourselves an enemy,” Dionne said.

  Yvonne looked at Dionne and then at Bumpy. They looked back at Yvonne.

  “We’ll just take it one step at a time,” Bumpy said.

  His voice sounded reassuring. In spite of their feelings of dread, Dionne and Yvonne smiled and nodded.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Wednesday afternoon — 3:45 p.m. MT

  Denver, Colorado

  “Dad?” Charlie whispered.

  The ghost of Mitch Delgado appeared at his bedside. Charlie sat up on the side of the bed.

  “They act like I’m dying,” Charlie said.

  Mitch turned to look at Nash, who was sitting in a chair next to Charlie. Nash was talking and crying. The boy got up and put his forehead on Charlie’s chest.

  “It creeps me out,” Charlie said.

  “Understandably,” Mitch said. “You want to walk?”

  An orderly and a nurse came near Charlie’s bed. They talked to Nash. The boy kissed Charlie’s forehead and left.