Ruby Dawn

by Raquel Byrnes

I sat on the bed with the Bible in my hands, dumbfounded.

  What had happened to Tom?

  20

  Dresden Heights Detention Center

  Eleven Years Ago

  I sat on the gravel of the cafeteria roof and folded my calculus homework into an origami lily. Sniffling, I heard someone on the ladder below the roof and stiffened.

  Tom’s head popped out of the opening, an exasperated look on his face. “You sabotaged it.”

  My stomach flopped. “They were weird.”

  Tom climbed the rest of the way out and crawled over to the patio chair seat, sitting down next to me. “And the family before that, they were too eager?”

  “You agreed they seemed creepy.”

  Tom leaned back against the exhaust and closed his eyes. “Why do you want to stay here?”

  My heart tumbled in my chest. “How can you ask that?”

  Sighing heavily, he lolled his head from side to side slightly, his eyes not opening.

  I watched him work his jaw. Older now by three years, from when I met him, he looked less like the boy from that first day, and more like a man. His chiseled features turned the heads of the other girls and I wondered why he was with me.

  “You don’t belong here,” Tom whispered. “You’re too good for this place.”

  Worry and insecurity roiled in my chest. I glanced at him warily. “You want me to go?”

  “Of course not.” He looked at me, frustrated. “I would…I would die.”

  “Am I a burden or something?” I ran my fingers along my scar, my heart crumbling.

  “What?” Tom looked at me shocked.

  My lip trembled and I bit down to stop it. “You don’t have to take care of me, you know. I can hold my own here.”

  “I never said that you couldn’t.” Tom’s eyes searched my face, worried. “What are you getting at?”

  “I see how Vanessa and the other girls look at you. They like you, Tom.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “So?”

  “So…” I was unable to finish.

  Tom sat up, reached his hand out, and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “No one here can compare, Ruby. I’m completely gone when it comes to you.”

  “Then why are you mad?” Tears filled my vision and I blinked furiously.

  Tom’s gaze slid away from mine. “I’m not mad.”

  “You seem like you are.”

  Tom pressed his lips together, but remained silent. He ran a finger down the bridge of my nose. “I’m just…worried, Ruby.”

  “Don’t be.” Trying to smile, I draped his arm over my shoulders and snuggled closer. Resting my cheek on his chest, I hugged him. “I’m fine as long as I’m with you.”

  A deep sigh escaped his lips. He stroked my hair. “I’m not sure that’s true,” he murmured.

  ****

  I woke up with a gasp. Feeling disoriented, it took me a few seconds to realize I was in Tom’s bed. The light streaming through the window made my eyes hurt. Blinking away the blurriness, I spotted the alarm clock on his nightstand and frowned. It was two in the afternoon. I stared at it with disbelief. I’d slept all night and all morning.

  “Tom?” I called out.

  Nothing. He must not be home. Did he come and go, or had he been out all night?

  Feeling grimy, I padded to the bathroom down the hall. I smiled. The bathroom smelled like him, like green and white bar soap. The scent took me back to nights under the yellow moon, my face against his chest, his arms holding me tight. I hugged myself and winced. Red skin traced a line down both arms. Looking in the mirror, I saw dark pink along my jaw and neck. The slight burns from the fire, similar to an intense sunburn, reminded me of last night’s terror. The fire. My stomach flopped.

  Shuddering, my mouth went dry. What was I going to do?

  After a shower I pulled on the scrubs I’d slept in.

  A hot black stain on Second Street represented everything in the world I owned. I didn’t even own the clothes on my back, they belonged to the hospital. I stifled the urge to guffaw with disbelief. I felt things spinning out of control and didn’t know how to keep my life from completely collapsing. Sudden sadness poured over me and I took in a ragged breath. As a doctor, I knew that mood swinging after a horrible experience was normal, but I still felt crazy.

  Downstairs I looked in the fridge, nothing. Hungry, I rummaged in Tom’s cabinets and found some travel size cereal boxes. Going back to the fridge, I didn’t find any milk. I eyed the water faucet, wondering if bran cereal would taste like sawdust by itself and then tossed the box back in the cabinet.

  I sighed, leaning on the counter. Wandering around Tom’s home felt like I was snooping.

  I had a few hundred dollars set aside to pay for the clinic’s utilities and some groceries. I grabbed them from my locker at the hospital last night because I didn’t need to worry about the groceries anymore; no fridge.

  I smoothed the wrinkles out of the scrubs. I needed to go buy basic necessities. My toothbrush, hair brush, and any clothes I had were now ash.

  Glancing at the phone at the end of the counter, I realized I didn’t know how to get in touch with Tom. My stomach rumbled.

  “That’s it,” I said aloud. “I’ll starve if I stay here.”

  I grabbed Tom’s personal keys from his counter and went to find his car. I knew from experience that apartment numbers usually coincided with car space numbers. Bouncing down the stairs, I headed to the carport. I smiled when I saw it. A shiny, black 1965 Mustang stood in his parking space. So like Tom.

  Hanging from the rear view mirror by a string, a tiny hand-colored paper globe whirled in circles. I stared, shocked. I’d made that globe years ago for Tom. I touched it with the tip of my finger, and it lolled to the right. The tiny continents and oceans faded with time, but still familiar. I tilted the globe and peered in through the hole in the bottom. I remember writing inside the paper ball with painstaking patience.

  Forever Love, Ruby.

  I couldn’t believe he kept it. Something so fragile and small took care to preserve. I tapped the globe and sent it spinning again. If he hadn’t forgotten me, as I’d believed, then why did it take him so long to find me? What happened to bring him back into my life now? I thought about what Tom said earlier and wondered if it was possible for someone to change so much. My foster mother, Sheila, used to believe in change.

  Sighing, I massaged my forehead. A headache starting to pound behind my right eye. Sunlight always gave me headaches. A byproduct of my childhood head injury. Tom used to joke about it. He said I was a real-life vampire. I smiled.

  Looking around the inside of the car for sunglasses, I realized I didn’t have a purse or a phone. They burned up with the clinic. I hoped I wouldn’t get pulled over for driving without a license. I needed to replace it.

  I drove to the mall and hit the stores. I also bought a purse and a pre-paid cell phone. A few pairs of slacks and blouses later, I headed to the drug store across the street from the mall. I picked out some toiletries, stopped by the magazine aisle, and flipped through a few on hair and make-up. Deciding to splurge, I picked out some make-up. I chose eye shadow in soft creams and mauves that promised to highlight my blue eyes, and a light berry lipstick. I got some styling things for my hair and even threw in a pair of sparkly rhinestone studs to wear. Changing in the drugstore’s bathroom, it surprised me that it felt so good to look pretty.

  I sauntered to Tom’s car and drove to the police station; time to find out what I could about Dakota. Maybe next time Lilah called I would have some information for her. I still didn’t know if she knew they’d found his body. I gulped back tears. His body.

  I’d never been to the police station before, which is weird since I dealt with people who treated its doors like revolving ‘Welcome’ signs. Surprisingly modern and clean, the white brick façade looked more like an office building than a place where guys with guns came to work.

  I parked in the visitor’s lot and strode up t
he steps. I passed a metal detector and walked into the carpeted interior of the station. Clearly ignoring the loud whoosh of the automatic doors, a portly officer with slicked back silver hair didn’t look up from his crossword puzzle.

  I stood at the window for a few seconds waiting. Finally, I cleared my throat, and he looked up with a bored expression. “Help you?”

  “I’m Dr. McKinney,” I said evenly. “I was hoping to speak with someone about the Dakota Brooks case.”

  A skeptical gaze looked me over as his silver mustache twitched under an aquiline nose. The brass nameplate on his chest read H. Kale. “Who’re you here to see?”

  I bit my lip, trying to remember the name of Ben’s cousin. “Uh, I think his name was Roaney…Or Rainey? He’s Officer Farrell’s cousin.”

  “I’m supposed to know who that is?” Reaching his fleshy pink hands to the keyboard at his side, he tilted his head back, looking at the monitor screen and tapping the keys.

  “I think its Irish…Roaney or something. The name floated to the surface, and I snapped my fingers. “Detective Riley. Is he in?”

  Kale stopped typing. “Yup, Detective Riley caught the case.” He squinted at me. “Are you family?”

  “No, I’m Dakota’s mother’s boss.” It sounded dumb even to me. “I-I just want to follow up on some questions. I’m a doctor at New Lakes, and I thought I could help.”

  Kale’s mustache twitched again. I thought he was going to brush me off, but he hooked his thumb under the counter. A buzzer sounded, and the door to my right popped open.

  “He’ll be on the right, third desk over,” Kale called after me, his attention already sliding back to the crossword puzzle.

  I nodded my thanks and walked through the heavy security door. Desks arranged in pairs facing each other checkered the floor of the room. Riley’s desk sat empty, a dying ivy wilting next to an old computer monitor. Deciding to leave a note, I looked around for a pad of paper and spotted Ben at a table near the back of the room. He didn’t have his uniform on. I wondered what he was doing in the station on his day off.

  “Ben!”

  He jumped in his chair and slammed a manila file folder shut.

  Huh?

  He smiled nervously, waved, and stood up to hug me.

  “Hey, Ruby,” Ben said and cleared his throat. “The hospital said they released you and Tom after the fire. Are you OK? Did you get burned?”

  “No, I’m fine. Just some singed hair on my arms and a bit of a cough.”

  He nodded and leaned on the desk in the most awkward attempt at casual I’d seen in a while. “Well, that’s good to hear. That you two are OK, I mean.”

  “I never got a chance to thank you for, you know, coming to the clinic.” My gaze went to the folder on the table.

  He leaned in, blocking my view, and licked his lips, nervous. “I was in the neighborhood,” he said. “Are you here to meet with the arson guys?”

  “No.”

  “They’re investigating your clinic fire. You didn’t get a call?”

  “My cell phone burned up in the fire.”

  “Oh, well they’ll want to talk to you,” he said and shuffled his feet.

  More cops to deal with. I decided to leave the clinic issue alone for now.

  “Hey listen, Ben, thanks for letting me know about Dakota. Renee told me you came to the hospital, but got called out.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry I couldn’t stay and make sure you were OK.” His eyes wandered over my hair and face. “You look great, by the way. I like the—” He pointed to my head. “The hair is nice.”

  I blushed, remembering the care I’d taken to fix myself up at the drug store. “Oh, thanks, Ben.” Pulling a wayward tendril of hair behind my ear, I went on. “I heard you guys found him under a bridge?”

  “Yeah, uh, one of your regular patients flagged me down on the street. A guy named Munch.”

  “Munch, yeah. He does a whole circuit around Sullivan Street.”

  “That’s the bridge.” His face pulled into an uncomfortable frown. “Listen, Ruby, I got the call on my way to see you at the hospital.” He shifted on his feet. “I know I should have stayed to make sure you were OK…”

  “Hey, you had something a little more urgent to do,” I assured him. My stomach flopped at the thought of Ben sitting around the hospital waiting room with Tom. “Can you tell me anything about Dakota?”

  Ben stared at me, uncertainty written across his face. “Ruby, do you really want to hear this stuff?”

  “I think I have to, Ben. Do you know if Detective Riley has heard from Lilah yet?”

  “No, he hasn’t.”

  I didn’t think so. “Oh, well. Maybe if I hear from her I can let her know what’s going on.” I motioned to the chair by the table.

  “Oh, sorry. Yeah, have a seat.” We sat down and he still looked nervous, leaning forward with both arms on the file.

  “Did the medical examiner say anything about Dakota yet? I know you only brought him in last night but…” I hesitated. “Were there drugs in his system?”

  If there were, then maybe I could convince myself that Dakota’s death didn’t have anything to do with me. Maybe he died because he made bad choices; maybe it wasn’t on my shoulders after all. My throat closed, guilt and worry swirling in my stomach.

  “Nah, anything on Dakota won’t be available for weeks, probably. They’re really backed up, and there’s some problem with the crime scene report. I just tried to talk to them over in Homicide. They’re not too motivated, to tell you the truth.”

  “Why?”

  “We have information that Dakota was into drugs. When Riley interviewed Lilah at the crime scene, when we were processing her van, she said that she was worried he’d slipped back into drug use again. She said he’d been acting erratic and would leave for days at a time. Before all of this happened, she was thinking he might need to go back to rehab.” He tapped his fingertips on the desk.

  “He was certainly caught on something. I smelled pot on him the past couple times he came around for Lilah.” My voice broke, and I swallowed back the lump in my throat. Lilah. She never said that Dakota would disappear for days. I wondered what else she kept from me. “Do you think it was a drug deal gone wrong?”

  “It happens all the time, Ruby. People go to buy drugs and get robbed instead.”

  “But you said earlier that the detectives were moving away from the car-jacking idea. You said that carjackers take cars and leave bodies…not the other way around. Why would they leave the car, take Dakota, and leave him under a bridge.”

  “I said they were moving away from the car-jacking idea, not the robbery/drug dealer angle.”

  “And you don’t see any connection between my clinic bombing and Dakota’s death?”

  “Do you think there is?”

  “Well, Dakota’s mom worked at my clinic.”

  “I mean other than that?”

  “That’s not enough?”

  “I’m a beat cop, Ruby. You need to talk to Riley.”

  “I tried to. That’s why I came in.” I wondered if I should tell Ben about the Ship-Systems paperwork and that I thought Antonio was somehow involved. The problem was, I had no proof and Homicide wouldn’t act on my theory, but Ben might. That was way too much risk. I needed to talk to Tom, first.

  But Ben was acting strange. He was hiding something. I bit my lip and tapped the fingers of my hand nearest the folder. Ben scooted it closer to his chest. Frustrated, I felt like I was playing a game. It made me wary of telling him what I knew.

  “Dakota wasn’t a hardcore criminal, Ben. He was a kid; a dumb one, but a kid all the same. He deserves a proper investigation.”

  “Can I get you some coffee, Ruby?” Ben asked, his eyes flitting around the room. He motioned towards the room to the right, off of the main work area.

  I nodded.

  Before he left the table, he shoved the folder into a nearby file cabinet.

  Once in the coffee room, Ben shut t
he door and leaned against the counter, irritated. “I know you have a heart for these kids, but Dakota was doing drugs. According to his folks, he’d been in rehab numerous times. It just looks like he got robbed during a buy. You don’t need to go around accusing the cops of being lazy.”

  “I wasn’t.” I looked at him shocked.

  “It sure seemed like you might start.”

  Hands in fists, I could barely control my voice. “Look, all I meant was that it seems like the police are acting like Dakota was just another junkie. That maybe he got what he deserved. He didn’t overdose, Ben, he was killed.”

  “Look, between you and me, Dakota might have gotten in debt to a dealer, or was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “The detectives aren’t burning up the asphalt trying to solve this, are they?” I ground out between clenched teeth.

  “I didn’t kill him, Ruby,” Ben said quietly. “I’m just telling you how it looks. I’m not passing any judgment on the kid.”

  “It just seems so senseless.” I stared at the floor trying to reign in my frustration.

  Ben reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll do him justice, Ruby. Nobody’s been written off just yet.”

  Nodding, I glanced out the window at the officers sitting at their desks and tried to get my breathing back to normal. Ben was just the bearer of bad news, not the one responsible. He also didn’t know all the facts. I wasn’t sure if it would hurt Tom’s investigation though, so I kept quiet about the shipping paperwork.

  “So you don’t have any ideas about who killed Dakota?” I asked. “There’s no evidence?”

  Ben leaned back against the counter eyeing me.

  “Not yet, no,” he said finally. “Why, you have some theories?”

  I bit my lip, debating. “The detectives never really told us how Dakota was killed. That’s why I came to the police station, to find out how he died,” I hedged.

  “I’m sorry, Ruby. He was shot in the side. Medical Examiner said it was a liver wound. He bled out in minutes.”

  “That’s terrible.” My stomach flopped.

  “But you are right about one thing…”