“I will. She’s a cherry, ya know,” Cass bragged in a drunken slur. I swallowed back the bile in my throat. Ten grand? I often wondered how he lived so extravagantly on a detective’s salary. I quickly counted off the possible side jobs he was doing. Drugs? Mafia? Was he on the take?
“Lucky man,” the voice said. “So, what are we doing with the retard?”
Retard? I smashed my ear harder against the door.
“Keep him where he is, in case they want more tests. I’ll take care of him when I get back.”
“He’s a smart retard. After all this time he keeps asking for her. He ain’t buying the story about her getting killed that night. He puts on that stupid kids mask and gets all bossy. It’s funny.”
I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. Were they talking about Stewie?
“Yeah, I’ve seen it,” Cass chuckled. “Like I said, I’ll take care of him when I get back.”
I jumped away just as the door opened and made it look as if I was coming from the bathroom.
“There’s my girl!” Cass bellowed, clamping a hand on my arm steering me into the ballroom. I never saw who the other man was.
* * * *
“Oh God, not again,” Cass moaned as he raced for the bathroom.
I watched, unaffected by his problem. After all, I was the one who spiked his champagne with a few drops of Visine. I saw it in a movie. No sex for him tonight. I smiled at my genius.
I sat on the hotel bed in my lacey nightie, supplied by Cass of course, and snuggled under the covers. I turned up the volume on the TV to drown out Cass’s vomiting. I stifled a giggle as he muttered curses about never eating raw oysters again.
My thoughts were racing a mile a minute. Stewie was alive. He wasn’t dead. All this time I thought it was my fault. I blamed myself for his death. Cass knew it, and he didn’t care. He let me believe it. I hated him.
“Hate is a strong word”, my mom would always remind me. Yes, it was.
So, while my duplicitous new husband barfed up a few organs, I plotted and planned. I had renewed purpose, a second wind. It wasn’t only me I had to save. I needed to find Stewie and rescue him. At the same time, I had to figure out a way for both of us to get away from Cass. We had to go somewhere he’d never find us. A place he would never expect to look for us.
Cass finally drifted off to sleep around three in the morning, his arms wrapped around the base of the toilet. We missed our flight, which left at nine. I didn’t even try to wake him. I dressed quickly in shorts and a T-shirt, lifting twenty bucks from Cass’s wallet. I quietly slipped out of the room and down to the café.
I ordered a croissant stuffed with sausage, eggs and cheese, and juice. A few travelers stumbled in looking very tousled and tired. I smiled at a little girl wheeling a pink Barbie suitcase.
My priority of the day was getting Cass to reschedule the honeymoon. I had to convince him to go home so I could find where he was hiding Stewie. My heart did a little two-step when I thought of him. My lips twitched, wanting to laugh out loud at the vision of him in his Batman mask giving them a hard time.
Why did Cass tell me Stewie was dead? And why was he hiding him from me? The answer hit me like a well-placed dart between the eyes. Cass had told the man to keep Stewie in case they wanted more testing done. He was taking him to that lab again.
Fury, hot and swift, poured through me. Cass had dismantled my self-esteem and turned me into a mindless punching bag, and I let him. But I drew the line at kidnapping a defenseless mentally impaired boy.
I let the door slam shut behind me as I entered our room. Cass jerked under the covers.
“Not so loud!” he growled. I grinned devilishly and plopped down on the bed beside him.
“How’s the patient?” I asked loudly.
“I think I’m dying,” he groaned, turning over onto his back.
“I guess you’ll think twice before drinking so much,” I said, fighting to not laugh.
“I think it was those oysters,” he said, issuing a hacking cough, the signature sound of all cigarette smokers.
“We missed our flight.”
“I guessed as much.” He flung an arm over his eyes.
“So... I guess I’ll call a cab.” I bounced on the bed again for good measure. He glared at me from under his arm.
“For what?”
“Are we staying here another night?” I asked, reaching for the phone.
“No, we’ll just hop another flight,” he explained, as he slowly eased from the bed, heading to the bathroom with the spryness of a ninety year old.
“What’s the point? The honeymoon is ruined now,” I whined.
My insides felt like Jell-O, but I had to do this. I held my breath as I waited for his response. It wouldn’t be good. I glanced at the bathroom door. It was halfway open.
Cass peered through the opening, one eye and half his face showing. He was giving me the look that preempted all the physical attacks. Eyes narrowed into slits, lips compressed into one thin slash. With courage I didn’t really feel, I went on.
“Don’t give me that look. It is. You puked all night and now our flight is halfway to the strip. I don’t wanna go now. I wanna go home.”
A second or two went by. I measured them with the hammered beats of my heart.
“You’re an ungrateful wench,” he bit out.
“And you’re an inconsiderate jerk.”
I barely got the words out before he flung the door the rest of the way open. It bounced off the wall with a deafening crash. He was on me in the blink of an eye. I covered my face with my arms. I got two quick jabs to the stomach which pushed me into the dresser, knocking over a lamp. His hands pulled at my hair and when I reached up to free myself from the painful grip he landed one good punch to my left eye, knocking me to the floor. I took him with me. It was over pretty quick.
“Why do you make me do these things to you?” he screamed, getting off me to pace the room. “I did this all for you, and this is how you repay me?”
I was going to throw up. As fast as I could, which wasn’t very fast at all, I got to my feet. Hunched over, cradling my bruised abdomen, I made my way to the bathroom.
“This is your fault, Arden!” I heard him complaining, “You and your smart mouth.”
For once I agreed with him. But it was for a very good cause. I knew he wouldn’t take me to Las Vegas with a black eye. Especially since I made it known I didn’t want to go anyway.
“You don’t want a honeymoon?” he yelled. “Fine! Twenty years from now don’t come crying to me that you never got a honeymoon.” I heard something crash and break against the wall. The phone rang.
“Hello...” I heard him say. “No, no, we’re fine. My wife is a little clumsy. Thank you for checking.” He paused. I assumed listening to the person on the other end. “Can you arrange for a limo to pick us up in an hour? Great, I appreciate it. Thanks.”
Hang on Stewie. I smiled with a warped sense of success. I’m coming.
Chapter Twelve
A couple wearing matching black business suits hurried past me. They never batted an eyelash. I was glad. I wanted to blend in. This was my sixth trip to the lab on Greene Street. It was easy to arrange my schedule without making Cass suspicious. He wasn’t feeling well lately.
Poor Cass. He’d been sick for the last two weeks. He had all the symptoms of the stomach flu, but the doctor couldn’t seem to prescribe anything to make it go away.
I guess it would help if I stopped feeding him undercooked eggs and maybe it would lessen his bouts of diarrhea if I quit replacing the sugar for his coffee with Sorbitol. Just a few tricks I learned from watching the I.D. channel.
It was working twofold for me. Cass was less watchful of me and there was no hanky panky going on. I knew it couldn’t last forever. I was risking serious medical injury to Cass. I didn’t mind killing him, but I didn’t want to go to jail for it.
I had to find Stewie, and I had to do it soon. I leaned against the brick building across the str
eet from BME, wedged behind a decorative potted tree that blocked any one from seeing me. My old faithful backpack rested on the ground at my feet. It felt good to be here. Not that I wanted to be on the streets again.
It was the freedom I liked. I wasn’t guarded, anticipating a backhand or full in the face slap. I was just me again. A car pulled up to the curb outside the lab. I reached down, grabbed my pack, and slowly settled it over my shoulders. I tamped down the urge to holler out his name when I saw Stewie climb from the back seat of the sedan.
He looked okay, but his shoulders were hunched and I could hear his nervous keening.
Jerks!
I didn’t recognize the short man who was coaxing him into the lobby, but my guess was he was the mystery man with the ten grand.
Once they were inside I looked around, making sure no one saw me, and ran across the street. I knew there was no way Cass could be here. I’d given him an extra whammy this morning, a little Ex-Lax in his chocolate chip muffin. But my stomach was knotted and that sick feeling of trepidation was making itself at home inside my gut.
The same bubble-headed brunette was manning the reception desk. She was totally engrossed in a conversation with the UPS guy, making it almost too easy to slip past her into the stairwell.
I couldn’t risk using the elevator in case Shorty was on his way down. My sneakers squeaked on the painted cement steps as I rushed them two at a time. On the second floor, I cracked open the door enough to make sure no one was nearby before stepping out into the empty hall.
Here is where my plan fell apart. I didn’t know what lay behind the mysterious door number six. Was there a waiting room? Or would I walk right into the room with Stewie, Shorty, and the ignoramus I met the last time?
Only one way to find out.
I moved in slow motion, hardly breathing. The latch clicked when I turned the door knob. It sounded as loud as a herd of elephants. I paused, waiting for God only knew what. But no one came rushing out from the other side. I peeked into the room. It was empty. The room could’ve been a waiting room, but there were no chairs or tables with magazines; there was nothing. Not even a ‘no smoking’ plaque on the wall.
The only other door was to the right. I tiptoed over to it and pressed my ear to the wood. I could hear Stewie’s high pitched mewling.
“Pipe down, kid.” I heard Shorty say. “You do this all the time. You should be used to it by now.”
“It hurts,” Stewie whined.
“I’ll give you two lollipops if you shut off the siren.”
Stewie stopped.
“Alright, here we go,” another voice said. Stewie whimpered.
“Wait a sec, Doc,” Shorty said. There was rustling. “Here you go, kid. Batman always does better than you with the needles.”
This caught me off guard. Shorty was a semi-decent guy. Sure, he was exploiting a handicapped boy, but he was nice about it. Who knew creeps had hearts? I wish I could see into the room. What were they doing to him in there?
I heard Stewie scream. I jumped away from the door like I’d been shocked. I didn’t bother to think it through. I flung the door open. Two men, both looking at me with stunned expressions, stood frozen in place.
The doctor was jabbing Stewie’s thigh with a huge needle while Stewie was tightly strapped to a table. Shorty was leaning over Stewie to keep him still.
“Cherry?” Stewie whimpered.
“Get away from him!” I screamed.
The doctor withdrew the syringe as Shorty unfolded himself and stepped back.
“Cherry, I knew you weren’t dead!” Stewie tried to smile but grimaced.
“You jerks! Undo those straps,” I ordered. They stared at me. “Now!” I shouted.
Shorty’s grin slithered into place. He eyed me head to toe. I knew the look. Pig.
“You’re Cass’s girl,” he said. “Does he know you’re here?”
“I told you to get those straps off him!” I yelled, ignoring his question.
Shorty barked out a laugh. “You’re a little outnumbered, sweetheart.” He took a step toward me.
“Ever been kicked in the groin, Shorty?” I raised a questioning brow. Shorty stopped smiling.
“Cass said you were feisty.” He scowled. “He isn’t going to be happy when he finds out you’re here.” He pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket and flipped it open.
I panicked. I couldn’t let him call Cass! In two long strides, I crossed the room and slapped the phone out of his hand. It fell to the floor with a sick clap.
“You stupid girl!” Shorty picked up the phone. He pressed a few buttons and swore. “You owe me a new phone.”
“Put it on Cass’s tab,” I quipped, reaching for the buckles of the restraints that tied down Stewie. I glanced at the doctor. It wasn’t the ignoramus from before. This was a little Asian guy with Mr. Magoo glasses.
“You, Magoo, help me unbuckle these.” He hesitated. “Now! Or I’m calling the cops!” Those were the magic words. Once they were all unbuckled I helped Stewie sit up.
“Ouch. It hurts,” he cried. Tears puddled then streamed from under the mask.
“You idiots! What did you do to him?” I glared at Mr. Magoo, who quickly looked to Shorty.
“He’s fine, Arden, just a little sore,” Shorty explained impatiently.
“Oh yeah? Well, hop your butt up here. Let me see how you like it.” Shorty’s brows pulled down into a frown.
“That’s what I thought.” I looked around for Stewie’s clothes, found them draped over a chair and shooed him behind a lab screen.
“Cherry, I’m so glad to see you. I prayed and prayed you’d find me,” Stewie said from behind the curtain.
“I know buddy. I’m really glad to see you too. Try to hurry, okay?” I said with a soothing voice. I never took my eyes off the two men in the room. Magoo looked harmless, but those were the ones you had to watch.
“I want some answers.”
They both stared at me in silence.
“Am I speaking Chinese? What are you morons doing to Stewie?” I said, raising my voice.
“Always with the mouth.”
I froze. Things just went from bad to worse. Cass stood at the entrance of the room, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.
“Imagine my surprise when I heard you screaming as I stepped off the elevator.” He smiled tightly, his eyes narrowed into slits. He looked like a shark. My mouth had gone dry. My hands started shaking.
“But I’m equally as sure you’re just as surprised to see me.” He settled against the door jam. “I was sitting at my desk this morning, contemplating that nice big chocolate chip muffin you baked for me when my lieutenant came over for some paperwork. He was off to a bad start. Poor shmuck hadn’t had any breakfast. I thought I’d be nice so I gave him my muffin.” Cass shook his head slowly. “About fifteen minutes later he’s running to the bathroom. That’s when it hits me. I mean, I’m a detective I should have picked up on it two weeks ago, but I never thought you’d be stupid enough to poison me.” His mirthless chuckle made my skin prickle with goose bumps. He pushed off the door jam and stepped into the room. I retreated.
“So,” he drawled, “you want answers? I can tell you whatever you want to know. Ask away.” His voice was calm, but I knew the tick in his jaw meant he was barely holding back. I was in hot water any way I looked at it. No use trying to talk my way out of it now. I licked my lips nervously. Cass grinned knowingly.
“What are you doing to Stewie?”
“Stewie. Always Stewie,” he complained. “Stewie is one of many volunteering his body to medical science. He’s donating his bone marrow.”
I looked at Magoo who nodded at me. I’m not a doctor or scientist, but I do know that extracting bone marrow is very painful and can be very dangerous if done too much to one person.
“You’re insane. All of you,” I uttered softly. Cass’s eyes glowed menacingly.
“Insane? How insane is it to make ten thousand dollars a mont
h? Hmm? Is that crazy?” He drew out the word. I remembered the last time I called him crazy. A shiver rippled up my spine.
“Why Stewie?”
“Why not? He’s homeless. There were no hoops to jump through or red tape to worry about. Look at him.” Cass waved an arm at the screen. I didn’t look. “He’s perfect. No one cares about him. He’s a nobody.”
“I care. He’s somebody to me,” I said forcefully, sounding braver than I felt.
Cass shook his head again, bewildered. He raised his eyes to the ceiling then looked back at me.
“What is so special about that retard?” he asked. The wounded look in his eyes baffled me. He was jealous of Stewie?
“He’s a good person. I can trust him. He never lies to me.” I jutted out my chin defiantly.
“Is that all?” Cass sighed. “Are you sure there isn’t more to it? Did you sleep with him?”
Shorty snickered. I flashed him a warning look.
“Don’t be disgusting.”
“We’ll find out when we get home so it’s best to tell the truth now.”
I gulped back a hard knot of dread.
“How’d you know, anyway?”
I clamped my mouth shut.
He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. You’re mine. You legally belong to me...” His sentence trailed off. Then he smiled perversely and said, “Your crime deserves a fitting punishment though.”
Let the punishment fit the crime.
I’d said that to him so long ago. If I’d known he would use it on me so much since then I’d have never brought it to his attention.
“We’re leaving,” I said.
“Yes, we are,” Cass replied. “Get the kid Ray. Take him home.” Shorty moved toward me. I was blocking the screen.
“Back off, Shorty.” I braced my legs apart, readying a defense.
He looked at Cass. Cass’s face was thoughtful as he watched me. He was analyzing the situation.
“I should have told them to kill him in the park,” he sighed, agitated.
“What did you say?” I couldn’t have heard him right.
“I think you heard me just fine.” Cass’s mouth turned up in a cruel grin.
Love You to Death Page 9