The day came when he had to testify at Lucretia’s trial and was wheeled in front of the courtroom. He knew how he looked, and didn’t blame some for the shock in their faces when they saw him. His hair was still a chopped-up mess, and his limbs were weak. His voice, when he tried to speak, was raspy, but the courtroom was held in rapt silence as he described in detail the story of his accident, and his fifteen year plight in the basement at the mercy of his insane daughter. Murmurs, gasps of shock, and even tears fell from those who saw his pain.
Then when Julita’s sad story was told, a sobbing woman separated herself from the crowd and ran toward Lucretia. “You bitch!” she yelled, before anyone could stop her. She reached out to attack Lucretia as she hovered behind her lawyer. He struggled with the woman, shielding Lucretia. The press immediately hopped on this, and a flurry of reporters crowded around the attack, aiming their cameras at the two females before the guards were able to stop them. She was pulled away while screaming obscenities at Lucretia, and led outside.
When Shadoe got up on the stand, Lucretia looked at him, wishing she had taken a hatchet and cut out his heart. Choosing his words carefully, he told the court all about his initial suspicions, then his covert activities to find out the truth. He described in detail about how he found Garret held prisoner in the basement trying to exist on rotten food, and living in conditions a rat would find offensive.
“The old man was almost dead.” he said, looking over at Garret and seeing the scowl he had come to know so well. “I had to feed him, build up his strength. Moving him in that condition would have been too dangerous. Until that time I had to make Lucretia believe they were dead to keep her out of the basement. If she had any idea what was going on, it would mean death for all of us.”
He avoided talking about the falling out between him and Garret, saying only that he took a few days to see that they were well fed and had enough fresh air. He added that he was just about to start Garret on an exercise regimen when he realized that the old man couldn’t last much longer under those conditions, and a professional therapist would do a much better job than he could.
“Every minute we spent there was taking a chance that Lucretia might begin to get suspicious and find them, and I just couldn’t take that chance. That’s when I decided to bring in the local authorities.”
When the trial was over, and the whole story hit the press, Shadoe’s face, along with those of the Van Dare family, was plastered on every front page, detailing the story again and again. When it was over, Lucretia was surrounded by an explosion of flashbulbs, shouts, and rushing bodies while the brutal hands of uniformed officers handcuffed her and carted her off to the State of Georgia Lunatic Asylum.
The day that Lucretia rode up to the building, her eyes raked over the aged, chipped façade of the crouching old hospital, and she felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. When she walked through the doors and encountered the cold, impersonal stares of the staff, saw the ripped linoleum on the floors, and walls that had lines of rust stains running down them, something inside her rebelled. Her mind immediately began working. She refused to be buried and forgotten in this hell!
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
One year later, New York City
It was early evening, and the night was slowly becoming brightly decorated with neon lights and strange creatures oozing from the shadowy cracks of the City. Shadoe hadn’t been the same since Lucretia’s trial. He was moody and silent, seemed to be thinking a lot.
He and his partner were cruising down Broadway when he heard gunshots coming out of a little shop that did body art. He skidded the squad car to a halt and the two of them spilled out. Shrieking people, running in every direction, erupted from the brightly lit shop, followed by an older man who came staggering out while holding his stomach, blood seeping through his fingers.
“Freeze!” Shadoe yelled, seeing two youths running away from the scene. He drew his gun and fired a wild shot, but the youths kept going, melting into the shadows of the night.
“You stay here,” he yelled at his partner. “Get on the radio and call emergency. I’ll try and catch the bastards!” He turned quickly and raced toward the two bodies that by now were nothing but tiny specks in the distance.
Later he and his partner walked into the station, a pair of handcuffs on a lanky boy of only sixteen with a pierced body. “Book the bum for burglary and possible attempted murder. Two perps. One got away. Don’t know yet who did the shooting. Victim’s in the hospital. If he lives he’ll identify our guest here,” Jerking the boy around, he peered into his face threateningly. “but I have a feeling this creep is gonna spill his guts. Right?” The boy gave Shadoe a "go to hell" look before he was brutally pushed into a seat beside the desk of a sergeant.
Shadoe walked toward the back of the room while rolling his aching shoulders. It wasn’t easy trying to work out twelve hours of wrestling down thieves, murderers, and drug dealers. Running helter-skelter through alleyways, and shooting at shadows in the dark. Finally he picked up a reasonably clean mug and poured himself a cup of stale coffee.
Parenti looked at Shadoe closely. “Hey, it’s been … what, a year since we last had to kick you out of here? What the hell is with you? You didn’t kick, yell, or curse once. Don’t you feel like plowing down the population since the other kid got away?”
The cup hovered in front of Shadoe’s lips as they curved into a smile at the gibe. “Not this time.”
“Well,” Parenti smiled. “Glad to hear it. Looks like you finally got your head on straight.”
“Can’t win ’em all, I guess,” Shadoe said, wincing at the foul-tasting coffee as he slumped into his chair.
Parenti perched on the side of Shadoe’s desk. “So what’s the latest on the gruesome Scarlet Bay mystery? The father and daughter just seemed to vanish.”
Lifting his feet and resting them on top of the desk, Shadoe said, “I don’t know. Haven’t heard anything.”
“Something strange there.”
Taking a sip, Shadoe scowled while looking into his cup. “God, why do I drink this stuff?” Setting his cup down and pushing it away, he looked up at his partner. “Okay, so what is it that’s so strange?”
“That bastard didn’t even say thanks. All through the trial he didn’t speak to you once. Didn’t even try to make contact later. Something’s wrong.”
“Hell, Parenti, I didn’t do it for thanks, I did it--” he hesitated, “--well, hell, I couldn’t not do it. You know how I am. I see something’s not right, and I have to stick my big ugly nose in it until I can make it right.”
“Yeah, but the man owes you, Madison. If someone had rescued me from the hell he endured, I’d be down on my knees kissing his feet.”
“You don’t know Garret Van Dare the way I do. He’s … I don’t know … not the gooey type. The man probably chews razor blades for breakfast to sharpen his bite.”
“Face it, Madison, the old man’s a jerk. He could have at least given you a big chunk of change. The old bastard could easily afford it. He’s richer than God.”
“He doesn’t owe me a damned thing. I did what I did because somebody had to. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.” He shrugged. “That’s all there is to it. Case closed.” He picked up the cup and handed it to his partner. “Here do something with this,” he said, swinging his legs off the desk. “I need to get in to see the captain, see what he’s got for me.”
“If you say so,” Parenti remarked, then took a sip out of the cup and frowned. He quickly threw it out, then nodded toward the captain’s office. “He’s in now, looks like.”
Shadoe picked up a pencil and began looking at his own teeth marks, evidence of his past stress. “How about the man that got shot? How bad was he hurt?”
“Huh? Oh, he’ll be okay. Lucky son of a bitch. Only got a flesh wound. Lot of blood, though. Scared hell out of me.”
Throwing the pencil down, Shadoe stood up. “See you around,” he said, hi
s tone restless, then headed for the captain’s office. He stuck his head in. “Hey, Captain, if you don’t need me anymore, I’m checkin’ out.”
“Come on in. Got something to go over with you.”
“Yeah? What’s cooking?”
“I might need you to go into the Leopard Club as a bouncer. Seems there’s some drug dealing going on there.”
“Drug dealing, huh?”
The captain looked up at him, observing his laid-back attitude. “Not, drug dealing, you wimp,” he said with a whiney voice, “fuckin’ DRUG DEALING!” he growled, his voice digging deep into his throat.
Shadoe smiled. “Oh, I see. The big time.”
“You’re damned right, the big time. Nobody but you can handle this one. You up for it?”
“I’m there. When do you want me?”
“Not for a while yet. For the time being keep riding shotgun with Parenti. I should be getting something solid in the next few days.”
“Where’s Delaney?”
“Had an emergency. Family thing. Had to go to Vermont ... mother died or something.”
Shadoe’s brow creased at the bad news. “Too bad,” he murmured, then looked up. “Okay, well, you need me anymore tonight? I’d like to get out of here.”
A surprised look crossed the captain’s face. “You mean you’re going to walk out that door without me kicking you out?” He gave Shadoe a slow grin. “My God, has the earth toppled off its axis?”
Shadoe smiled. “Okay, so I deserved that. Now, if you can bring yourself to act like a responsible law enforcement officer, I’d like an answer to my question. I need to unwind a little. Me and Parenti have been here for twelve friggin’ hours for God’s sake, give me a break … hell, give us both a break.”
“Hellfire, Madison, you’re not foolin’ me. You forget how long we’ve known each other, bud. It’s a woman, isn’t it? You always start acting like this when you’re thinking about a woman. You become distracted, moody....”
“You’re so damned cold, you’re peein’ icicles,” Shadoe denied hotly.
“Yeah? Something tells me I’m not.”
“Hey, am I out of here, or not?”
“Sure, go ahead. You might as well leave since you won’t be doing the department any good until you get her in the sack. Who is she? Someone you just met? Good-looking, huh?”
Shadoe stood up, and turned. “I’m outta here. You need me, you can get me on my cell phone.”
“Hey Madison!” he yelled. “Do her once for me, okay?”
Hearing the words, Shadoe lifted his hand and gave his captain the finger.
“Bastard,” the captain muttered to himself, “Why the hell do I put up with that sonofabitch?”
“I give up. Why?”
The captain looked up, surprised to see one of his officers standing in the empty doorway. “Because he a damned good cop, Sosa. You’d be doing yourself a favor if you took lessons.”
“Can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Hey, somebody’s gotta be the slacker,” he said jokingly. He lifted his hands, palms up, and moved them up and down counter to each other. “Balance out the precinct, you know?”
“And you do it damned well,” he said, frowning up at him. “Now, what the hell do you want?”
“Little penny-ante burglary on the Southside. Want me and....”
“You and Nash get on it.”
“You got it.”
“By the way, tell Parenti to get his ass out of here,” he said, then mumbled, “It’s a sad day when Madison is the voice of reason around here.”
* * * *
Shadoe slammed into his Toyota Landcruiser, turned the key, recklessly backed up, then charged out of the parking lot. As soon as he was on the street he reached back and pulled the rubber band out of his hair and let it blow free in the strong breeze. He drove fast, trying to get the cobwebs of the past out of his mind, but it didn’t help. Thoughts of Julita came creeping back. During the trial he’d tried to talk to her, but both Garret and their lawyer held on to her, keeping her safe within their circle. It was easy to see why. She was probably overwhelmed by all that had happened, and the press didn’t play favorites. They pursued all of them relentlessly. She still wore the large clothes that hung limp on her curvaceous body, her face hidden behind red-gold strands of hair. He couldn’t forget her frightened, darting eyes. When her face could be seen, it was without color, and without expression, except fear. She stayed in the arms of the lawyer who had gained her trust. It was a tight circle, the three of them, Garret in his chair, the lawyer, and Julita. From that circle of safety, she looked out on the throngs of people as if afraid they would attack.
Shadoe reached over and pulled a piece of material out of the glove compartment and handled it gently. It was a piece of the evidence he had lied to get. Now, looking at the dingy handcrafted mask he held in his hand, he wondered where she was. Every time he saw her in his mind, she was in that baby bed. Hair in dog ears, dressed in provocative baby doll pajamas that were painfully thin. He knew she was in his head to stay. Try as he might, he couldn’t get her out.
Shadoe stopped by a package store and stocked up on scotch, bourbon, and beer, then slammed into his apartment, throwing keys on a table, and dropping his jacket wherever convenient while digging out the bourbon. Opening it, he looked around at the dirty dishes and wisecracked to himself, “Where’s the damned maid?”
Not bothering with a glass, he took the bottle, peeled off his shirt, then strolled over to a window, looked out on the busy, brightly lit city, and opened the window. Feeling the cool wind on his overheated body, he sat on the ledge and drank until he wasn’t good for anything but sleeping it off. Eventually his eyelids fluttered to a close while haunting shadows played on their blank screens.
He saw himself surrounded by trees. Wind, rustling trees, screeching night birds and serenading cicadas. It was all so familiar … as if he’d been there before. All at once an eerie voice lifted on the night wind.
Shaaaaaadoooe, pleeeeease coooome! Pleeeease help my baaaaby. She’s in daaaanger. He’s going to hurt heeeer.”
He thrashed along, working his way through the foliage, then stopped and looked up, seeing the moon, perfectly round in shape, and shining down on something. What was it? He pushed the low-hanging branches back and saw an old church. He’d seen it before, but why was he thinking about it now? He’d pushed it so far back in his memory, he’d forgotten. But there it stood, the spiral reaching up as if to pierce the moon. It was old, ashen, and alone. Forgotten by the world. Now it was silent, mist creeping around it, and shattered windows that looked out like eyes across the clearing. It struck him at that moment that the church was also a corpse. It might have stood tall and proud at one time. On some corner where believers came to gather. Its stained glass letting in a sunlight that painted the walls in rainbow colors, a bell in its proud steeple that clearly chimed out every Sunday morning just as services began. Now, it was dead, its walls holding some restless spirit that cried out in pain for her baby.
Bring her to meeee … bring my baby to meeee, the voice urged just before Shadoe lunged forward, finding himself still on the window ledge.
Some kind of knowing suddenly filled him up inside, and he knew now what the woman was saying. “In danger,” he repeated. “He’s going to hurt her,” he muttered, mulling the words over in his mind. Julita. Garret. “He’s going to hurt … oh my God,” he muttered. “It’s Julita. She’s the baby.” Shadoe knew a little of the history. He knew that her mother had died in childbirth, never getting to hold her daughter, never even getting to name her. Could it be Julita’s mother crying out into the night? Capturing someone’s dreams, calling for help?
“But not Garret. Garret wouldn’t hurt her … would he?” he muttered. Oh God, he thought. She had been left in the hands of the enemy. He raked his fingers through his hair, arguing with himself. But why? Why would he? He loved Julita. He lov--" oh God, he thought, remembering G
arret’s obsessive behavior in relation to his daughter. He’d never suspected such a love could be unnatural. His mind whirled. He had no idea where Garret had taken Julita. Would they have gone back to Scarlet Bay? No, he didn’t think so. Garret wouldn’t want to face the memories. It would be too much to bear for either of them. A thought came to him. Charlton Memorial. The hospital where Garret had been taken. He knew they would have the Scarlet Bay address, and was hoping their records would be extensive enough to include any referrals for treatment, names of surgeons, chiropractors, everything he needed to know to find Garret. Shadoe jumped up and grabbed his jacket and his keys when he realized his shirt was gone. Looking around, he saw it, grabbed it, and ran outside.
As Shadoe drove, he called the precinct, but got an answering machine. “Where the hell...?” he muttered. Someone was always there. When the sound indicating the recording had begun, Shadoe began speaking. “Captain. Madison here. I’ve got somebody to track down. I might be gone a few days. Sorry … gotta do this.” He clicked off, threw the phone down, and watched as his headlights invaded the thick darkness, their brightness revealing a ribbon of road that wound long and lonely through the cold night. His sturdy van cut through the wind that whipped at his window, making a moaning sound, giving him a chill. The long, narrow road cut through tall pines, gradually giving way to flat farmland, and now he passed a cemetery where the tombstones stood cold and white, like old bones in the moonlight.
What the hell was he doing? he asked himself. Had he gone mad? What would he say to Garret once he found him ... if he found him?
The scene began to unfurl in his mind, so vivid he could almost see it projected onto his windshield. The picture was hazy at first, but slowly it came into focus. Garret’s permanent scowl was firmly in place, the old man’s cold, icy gaze, familiar. His curly hair was wild and untamed, giving him a look of stark insanity while sitting in his wheelchair in a room richly decorated. Suddenly the voice pierced his ears.
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