Severed

by Corey Brown

  Startled, Todd scrambles to his feet and pulls at the door handle. “Sorry Grandma. I didn’t see you.”

  Marion smiles, shakes her head, says, “Don’t worry about it. Everything okay?”

  Todd climbs in and reaches for the seatbelt, but doesn’t look at her. “Uh, sure,” he says. “I’m all right.”

  Easing away from the curb, Marion glances at Todd and for an instant, like a glimpse beyond the blinding flash of a camera, she sees her grandson as larger than life. And in the next moment she sees another thing, something beyond her own life, something painful; something inexplicable.

  “What some ice cream?” Marion says, suddenly disoriented, unexpectedly back in her own life. “There’s a Dairy Queen coming up.”

  Todd swallows but does not take his eyes off the floor mat. “No thanks, Grandma. I’m not hungry.”

  “Well, neither am I. Who goes to an ice cream shop because they’re hungry?”

  Todd doesn’t respond. He seems lost in another world.

  “Are you okay, honey?” Marion says. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, I’m fine.”

  Marion waits a beat, shakes off some invisible feeling then says, “Do you think I need new glasses?”

  “What?” Todd looks up at his grandmother. “What do you----?”

  “You think I need new glasses,” Marion says. “Is that it?”

  Todd frowns. “Well, I….”

  “You’re wrong about that because I can see just fine. And what I see is a young man who is anything but fine. I can tell my grandson is anything but fine. So why don’t you tell me about it?”

  Todd does not speak instead he looks away. He shrugs, shifts uncomfortably, his mouth pulled off to one side. Then he starts to shake.

  Marion brakes. Todd bursts into tears. She pulls to the curb, barely getting the car into park before the boy throws himself into her arms, burying his face in Marion’s shoulder.

  Kissing the top of his head, stroking his thick hair Marion whispers, “It’s all right. Tell me what’s wrong, I can fix it.” She waits, holding her grandson, letting him get through it.

  After a time Todd says, “Oh, Grandma, I don’t know what to do.”

  “About what? Are you in trouble?”

  “No, uh, I don’t know, maybe. It’s my dad, Lucas, he’s mad at me.”

  “For heaven’s sake, child,” Marion says, trying to sooth Todd. “All grown-ups get mad at their kids. It doesn’t mean anything. He’ll get over it, don’t you worry.”

  Todd pulls back, shaking his head. “You don’t know what I mean.” Using a palm to wipe his face, Todd tries to steel himself but the tears keep coming. Marion removes a Kleenex from her purse, presses it into Todd’s hand.

  Todd dabs at his eyes with the tissue, says, “He’s really mad. He almost hit me.”

  Marion scowls. “What do you mean? On purpose, he almost hit you on purpose?”

  “Yeah,” Todd says, nodding vigorously.

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Because I told him I wouldn’t help him anymore, it was scaring me.”

  “Todd, honey, you’re not making any sense.”

  The teenager shudders as he takes in a deep breath. He closes his eyes, squeezing out a few more tears. He mops his face again with the tissue and Marion thinks Todd is about to cry again, but he manages to hold onto his emotions. Marion can see he is thinking, looking for the right place to start.

  “Lucas bought me a car,” Todd says, quietly, his eyes downcast once more. “It’s blue, it’s really cool. He even lets me drive it.”

  Marion is incredulous, she wants to interrupt and ask why Lucas would let his thirteen year-old son drive a car, but she holds back, waiting for Todd.

  “At first, it was fun,” Todd says. “I got to drive all over the place taking boxes to different places, mostly churches. Lucas told me they were donations and he didn’t have time to take them.” Todd shrugs. “Lucas said it was okay for me to drive if I was doing good, if I was helping God.”

  Marion feels her face flash hot with anger, hopes Todd does not notice.

  “But then it got scary,” Todd says. “And I told Lucas I didn’t want to do it anymore.” Todd’s voice grows quiet. “That’s why he’s so mad, that’s why he was going to hit me.”

  “Did he hit you?”

  Todd shakes his head no.

  “So Lucas had you driving all over?” Marion prompts. “Besides the fact that you were breaking the law by driving a car, what made it get scary?”

  “Well, sometimes I had to go to churches out in the woods at night. And I saw things that scared me.”

  “Like what?”

  He shakes his head. “No, you won’t believe me.”

  Marion reaches over, touches the back of Todd’s hand. “Of course I’ll believe you,” she says. “Tell me.”

  Todd shakes his head again, more forcefully this time.

  “Come on, Todd. I will believe you. I promise.”

  Todd looks her straight in the eye, tries to take her measure and decides she means it. “Demons,” he says, quietly. “I saw demons. They were standing next to the ministers when I gave them the boxes.” Todd swallows. “It’s true, Grandma. I saw them. I really did, I saw them as clear as I see you. And…. they saw me, too.”

  A tingle, like a ribbon of electricity winds its way around Marion’s spine. Demons? Marion sits back, staring at Todd. She can see he is serious, Todd is telling the truth as far as he is concerned. Marion wants to ask how he knew they were demons, but the question seems stupid. She would know a demon if she saw one, why wouldn’t Todd? Besides, her faith teaches the existence of such things, why couldn’t Todd have seen one?

  But Todd had said demons, plural.

  “Did anyone else see them, like the ministers?” Marion says. “Did the ministers see them?”

  Todd shrugs and turns his face away, distracted fingers tracing the car window. “I don’t know, maybe. But until the last time I didn’t know they could see me.” He looks back at Marion, his eyes pleading. “Grandma, that’s why I don’t want to drive the car, I don’t want to see those things anymore. They’re big and….and really scary.” Todd looks away, his eyes downcast, and whispers, “Last time, one of them waved at me. He kind of smiled and waved. He made me….I peed my pants. Now I have nightmares about him.”

  Todd’s words stun Marion. Her heart goes out to the boy and she pulls Todd close, hugging him tight.

  “Don’t worry,” Marion says. “You will never have to do that again, I promise.” She thinks for a moment and says, “Tell me, what was in the boxes?”

  Todd shrugged again. “I don’t know, pills and bags of powder. Medicine, I think.”

  Now it all made sense. Cody had been right about Lucas, he had known that Lucas was up to something but the rest of the family had missed it. It was true that she and Gus felt uneasy about Lucas’s sudden re-entry into Todd’s life. Without warning, one day Lucas had called, saying he was back in town, had a good job and wanted to see Todd again. It was unsettling the way everything happened; Lucas called, never explaining, never apologizing, and seemed to pick up where he left off some thirteen years ago.

  Still, he was Todd’s biological father and Lucas had a right to see his son, whether or not Todd’s grandparents liked it.

  But Cody had always expressed misgivings about Lucas’s intentions and now Marion can see he’d been right. That son of a bitch was using Todd—using her grandson as a drug courier. Marion looks over her shoulder, looks out the rear window and stares back toward Lucas’s condominium. Then she puts the car in gear, cranks the steering wheel to the left and pulls a U turn.

  Simultaneously, all three men glance at the door. There was someone pounding on it. They look at each other.

  “Who’s that?” The Asian man says.

  Lucas Kelly glares at him and says, “How the fuck should I know?”

  “You gonna answer it?” The second man says.

 
Standing, Kelly’s huge frame towers over the other two. “I’ll be right back.”

  Lucas crosses the living room, stepping onto the polished wood floor near the front door. Without checking the peephole, he jerks the door open.

  “What the hell do you----?” Lucas starts to say.

  Marion draws back and slaps Lucas full across the face. She hits Lucas so hard he stumbles backward. Trying to find balance, he reaches for the doorknob, misses and spins sideways, going down on one knee. Marion ignores the painful sting in her hand and lands another blow on the side of Lucas’ head.

  “How dare you?” Marion says, her normally thin, raspy voice sounds like a pit bull’s growl. “How dare you do that to my boy?”

  Lucas stares up at her, a look of utter confusion on his face. “What---?”

  Despite the throb in her elbow and upper arm, Marion interrupts him with another smack, driving him closer to the floor. Marion bends over Lucas, jabbing a finger at him and says, “I promise you this, Lucas. I am going straight to Cody. When he finds out what you’ve been doing to Todd, he will put you in jail so fast you won’t know what happened.”

  “Damn it, Marion,” Lucas says, his face burning. “What are you talking about?”

  She draws back to hit him again but a voice from the living room stops her.

  “Ma’am, do not strike Mr. Kelly again.”

  Marion Dubois looks up to see two men standing in the living room. They are motionless and stone-faced, just staring at her. She hadn’t noticed them before, how had she missed them?

  Neither of them is very tall but both appear to be young, solid. The man who had spoken has a narrow, Asian-looking face, brown skin and cold green eyes.

  “Ma’am, please step away from Mr. Kelly.”

  “I will not. This is a family matter, you stay out of it.”

  The Asian-looking man reaches into his sport coat and produces a badge.

  “NOPD, Ma’am. I’m Detective Yoto and this is Detective Aldridge.”

  “Policemen?” Marion says. She points to Lucas, who is now on his feet. “Arrest this horse’s ass.”

  “What for, Ma’am?”

  “He has been using my grandson to deliver drugs.”

  The two detectives glance at each other.

  From behind, Marion hears Todd’s voice, low and measured and afraid. “They’re not policemen, Grandma. They were at the churches when I delivered the boxes. I saw them….with the demons.”

  Marion turns to look at Todd and there is the unmistakable sound of Velcro tearing loose; guns are coming out of holsters.

  “Run Todd!” Marion shouts. “Ru----” Her words are cut off as Lucas’s hand closes around her throat.

  Time seems to suspend. Todd stares as Lucas grabs his grandmother by the throat and slams her against the wall. But then Grandma’s words reach his brain and Todd sprints toward the elevator.

  “Get the little bastard,” Aldridge snarls, but Yoto is already in motion, running after the teenager

  Blinded by a sharp, white light as Lucas cracks her head against the wall, Marion feels an arc of pain shoot down her right side. Blackness fills her vision, her knees buckle and she slides to the floor. In a heap, leaning against the wall, her entire body feels useless.

  “Keep him,” Marion whispers, leaning against the wall in a heap. “Oh God, please, keep---”

  Marion’s brain registers the pair of crisp, whipping sounds just after she feels two stabs of intense pain. Her body jerks and for a moment her senses become sharp, back from the edge of unconsciousness. But just as suddenly she feels the life draining out of her body. Marion’s head lolls then she falls to one side. Something warm and sticky leaks onto her left hand, sounds become distorted but she knows Lucas is shouting.

  “Goddamnit, why did you----?”

  There are more whipping sounds followed by a dull thud.

  «»

  “Hey Derek, what’s shakin’?”

  FBI agent Derek Simmons has returned to his field office, back from Opelousas and standing at the desk of specialist Dan Nicolai.

  “Not much,” Derek says. “How’re you?”

  “I’m good.”

  Derek glances at the photo of Dan’s wife. “How’s Michelle?”

  “Pregnant.”

  Derek pulls a face. “Again? What? Are you some kind of goddamned rabbit? How many do you have now, fifty?”

  “Yeah, right,” Dan says, half laughing. “This will be number six. And maybe I am a goddamned rabbit, what’s it to you? You jealous ‘cause you aren’t getting any?”

  “Six? Don’t you believe in birth control?”

  Dan leans back, lacing his fingers behind his head and grins. “Wouldn’t matter,” he says. “I’m packing radioactive jizz. Ain't nothing can hold it back. My poor wife doesn’t stand a chance, my stuff can make a brick wall give birth.”

  Derek busts into laughter, his sharp features melting into softer lines. Without realizing it, he welcomes a reprieve from the non-stop emotional drain of the last twenty-four hours.

  “Congratulations,” Derek says, still laughing, wiping moisture from his eyes. “When is she due?”

  Dan appears to be performing a quick mental calculation but the look in his eye betrays him and Derek is ready for it. “Well,” Dan says. “I think in about seven and a half months but I’d have to ask the mailman to be sure.”

  “The mailman? I’m confused, I thought you were the one having sex with the mailman.”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot. I guess I’m due in seven and a half months.”

  Derek grins, stifles another fit of laughter and says, “You sick bastard. Remind me to take you out later and get you drunk, but right now I need a favor.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I want you to snoop around some guy’s home computer.”

  “Some guy?” Dan says. “What does that mean? Do we have a warrant for ‘some guy’?”

  “No,” Derek says. “This is unauthorized.” He looks hard at Dan. “‘Some guy’ is on the payroll.”

  Nodding, not speaking, Dan holds Derek’s gaze while considering the situation. Then he says, “One of us?”

  Derek shakes his head. “Not quite. DEA. And he’s not part of the rank and file, either. He’s at the top of the food chain.”

  “But no warrant?”

  “No warrant. Justice has given us a yellow light. They’ll allow us to look around and if we see anything interesting they’ll get a warrant.”

  “A yellow light?” Dan says. “What the fuck does that mean? It sounds like we get burned if something goes wrong.”

  Derek nods slowly. “That’s exactly what it means.” He inhales, breathes deeply before exhaling. “Truth be told,” he says, “I pressed hard for the go ahead. The only way I could get a guarantee on follow through was to take the fall if I got caught. I go in, find hard evidence and the attorneys get a warrant. I go in and get caught, well….” Derek shrugs, letting the implication hang.

  For a few seconds specialist Dan Nicolai just stares at Derek, his expression giving away nothing. Then a mischievous half smile crosses Dan’s face and he says, “So what happens if I go in and get caught? You skate and I get burned? Please don’t tell me ‘some guy’ uses dial-up. Jesus, if he does I’m dead already.”

  Derek grins, shakes his head. “No, he has broadband so hopefully his machine is always on-line.” Derek pulls a business card from his shirt pocket, starts to hand it over but stops short. “You sure about this? I mean, I really think it’s low risk, but we could take a hit.”

  Dan’s look is severe, pure cop, a tough guy. “If Mr. DEA is walking the wrong side of the street I’m going to break his goddamned legs. If he’s not, then I’ll forget everything I see.”

  Handing over the business card, Derek says, “Here’s a technical contact for our man’s Internet service provider. You can get the right IP address from him. I checked and it doesn’t look like our boy is using Network Address Translation, so that should ma
ke it easier crack the safe. In theory, the cable company resets the IP every few days but they’ve agreed not to flip the address for at least thirty. Is that enough time?”

  “More than.” Dan studies the card. “Cable, huh?”

  “Yeah. Is that a problem?”

  “Get serious,” Dan says. He tosses the business card aside. “What am I looking for?”

  “Anything, everything. This guy stinks, just find his dirty laundry.”

  “Got a name?” Dan says.

  “Murdock. Robert Murdock. Sound familiar?”

  Dan shakes his head, no. “Who else knows about this?”

  “Besides you and me?” Derek says, glancing around. “The station chief, a couple of guys back in Washington and, hopefully, no one else. So don’t go advertising what you’re doing.”

  “Got it.”

  “Thanks. Let me know the minute you find something. I may have to move fast.”

  Shutting the door to his own office, Derek leans against it, exhaling loudly. He closes his eyes, his body suffused with weariness. When this investigation is finished, he thinks, it will definitely be time for some R and R. He will definitely take some time off, maybe get to know his family again.

  Glancing at the stack of folders on his desk, Derek thinks about the operation. This deal has been two years in the making and just when they were going in for the score, Nick Wheaton almost blows the whole thing. He starts snooping around, asking the wrong questions, talking to the wrong people. And if that wasn’t enough, he gets himself killed out in the goddamned swamp, turning on a bright and unwanted spotlight.

  Derek sighs. He had not known until just yesterday that Nick was Cody’s partner, an obvious complication. Derek sighs again, the knowing tears at him, splits his feelings between frustration and friendship. What to do?