The Vigilante

by Ramona Forrest

  “You don’t need to tell anything you don’t want to, but when you’re ready, I’ll listen.” He smiled. “Martha, I really care about you, more than I thought I could care for anyone after losing my family. It feels so damned good. It’s like I’m alive again.” He reached for her hand and she felt the solid strength of those long fingers.

  “Oh, Bob!” Martha wanted to protest this feeling from him. At the moment, she felt herself unworthy of this good man’s affection. He didn’t need her screwed up life to complicate his, but it felt so good to hear his words she barely managed, “I don’t know what to say,” and fought back her tears.

  “Better get to your sandwich, then.” He laughed, winked at her, and took a big bite of his Reuben. “Hey, this is mighty good.”

  She watched the muscles of his masculine jaw work as he chewed and a deep thrill passed through her, seeing him take so much enjoyment from a simple sandwich. “Mine’s good, too.” She smiled at him, forgetting all her worries during this magical moment in time.

  He drove her back to her vehicle and at the door of her car, he kissed her deeply. The wild sensations it brought made her long desperately to ask him home for the night. She admitted as much. “Bob, I want more than anything to spend the night with you. I need you and have the most wonderful feelings for you.” She kissed him, softly and gently. “But the time is not right.” She felt a deep sense of desolation as she watched him drive away.

  ***

  He left her sitting in her car, and while driving home, he delved into what he knew of Martha. “What are your terrible secrets, girl? You know I’ll find out. Knowing the kind of woman you are, they couldn’t be as serious as you believe. I’ll be invited in one day, and that will be it for you.” He whistled a tuneless melody as he pulled into his lonely home. He’d made one woman very happy and knew he could do that for Martha as well. Thinking about her slim waist, fine features, and slender body made him anxious for that day.

  CHAPTER 21

  Harris accompanied Ryan on their mission to Denny’s small home. They walked past the vine covered portico where Denny had kept his vehicle.

  “So here’s where he hid his car,” Ryan said, checking out the secluded area.

  “The little girls were sure this was the car they remembered,” Harris replied. “A good bit of evidence right there. It’s being impounded as we speak.” Walking around the side of the house, he scuffed a few leaves away and stooped down. “Hey, check this,” he called to Ryan.

  “What you got?” Ryan leaned over to examine the dim boot tracks outside Denny’s window. “Not much left of them after that last rain, but we’ll take casts. They could match up with the ones found in the alley. Size looks about the same.”

  “These tracks are old. Looks like the perp scoped this place out a while before doing the deed,” Harris offered. “Get Al on this and let’s check out the house.”

  Ryan gave orders to the officer with them, and then he and Harris entered Denny Garver’s home.

  Ryan opened the computer. He didn’t need a password. It booted up nicely on Denny’s “remembered” one. Flipping to past entries, he shuddered. “God damn, Harris, look at this stuff! Bastard’s got this computer loaded with the most disgusting kiddie porn you’ll ever hate to see!” Beads of sweat broke out across his forehead. “Son of a bitch!”

  “Not really surprised, are you?” Harris scoffed, scanning page after page of things he’d known would be there. In his line of work, he’d already seen too much. “This guy sickens me to the core. I want to vomit just looking at this stuff. I find it difficult investigating this. I’d do the same as our vigilante friend, if I caught one of these predatory monsters even looking at one of my kids.”

  They confiscated the computer and, upon further investigation, found a small collection of ribbons tucked away in the back of Denny’s closet. “Now what do you suppose these mean?” Ryan asked, holding out the colorful strips of ribbon, some soiled with dark material that could easily be blood stains, some with strands of hair clinging to them. “Oh Lord above! Some of them have hair attached. You don’t suppose...”

  “My God, I hope it isn’t what it looks like. Has he made a collection of his victim’s hair ribbons?” Harris felt sick. “You don’t suppose he tied them with...” He couldn’t finish his thoughts as his mind whirled with mental pictures of the many little girls the man must have encountered, molested, and murdered over the years.

  “Put out an arrest warrant on this bird. We’ll have enough DNA evidence right here to put him away for a long time. Why in hell hasn’t someone caught up with Garver before this? Prosecution is so damned lax about these monsters. I sure as hell understand why people take it into their heads to fix the bastards on their own.”

  Ryan frowned. “Must be a connection between these two cases.” He spat into the trashcan, trying to remove the bitter taste in his mouth. “Hell of it is, we don’t know a damn thing for sure, do we?”

  “We’ll go on line to every police department in the country, asking for cases relating to what we’ve discovered here. Garver must have a long history somewhere, likely many places. What we’re seeing here may be the tip of the iceberg—right here in front of us.” Harris wrote himself a note. “I’ll get his arrest in the works. He’s still hospitalized, isn’t he?”

  “Better be. I couldn’t take the scandal if this one slips past us. Fred Callahan looks like an amateur compared to this bird.” Ryan cleared his throat. “We can’t search Callahan’s property, since he was acquitted, but I’ll bet it’s a gold mine of garbage, too.” He frowned. “Too damned bad—I’d bet my life on his history being long and sordid, too.” Most child predators had a long and hellish history, some more than others.

  “Likely it is. Anyway, the fire’s out of his furnace, eh?” Harris managed a quiet chuckle remembering Callahan’s day in their office. “Miserable assholes. Glad our vigilante fixed the both of them, you damned bet I am. You can’t imagine how often I’ve wished we could give these bastards some real justice. Looks like we needed a vigilante to do it for us.”

  “Harris, you’re a vindictive son-of-a-gun, now aren’t you?” But Ryan silently agreed. His inborn reluctance at hunting the vigilante down and making an arrest haunted him—bitterly—although he knew it was his sworn duty. “They always go too far, you know that. As justified as these cases may be, there will be one that isn’t, and we have to prevent that unhappy event from taking place.”

  “You’re right about that, man, and if he makes a mistake, I hope it won’t be one of us.” Harris uttered a soft laugh, finding a modicum of relief after the horrors they’d seen today.

  “Funny as hell, aren’t you?” Emotionally worn, Ryan joined him in humor and release. “Let’s catch us some lunch. How about it?”

  They drove away with what they’d found and confiscated, heading for the nearest diner.

  ***

  Martha entered the psychiatrist’s office as scheduled. Her apprehension soared sky high today. Her hands shook. Tightly strung, she fought for control. The answers were close, too close. Soon she’d find herself face to face with the hidden terrors of her childhood. “Will today be the day?” she worried in a whispered breath. She took a seat after signing in, picked up a magazine, but couldn’t focus on anything or even read the print.

  The nurse beckoned and she rose to enter Dr. Carton’s office. He greeted her, sat her in the familiar chair, and began the session. “So, Martha, tell me about it, anything new or different, happening in your life?”

  “Yes, something has happened again. I know I’ve been roaming around at night lately. I smell of cigarettes when I awaken. And two days ago, I found these crazy spots on my arms again. I’m sure that’s why I’m so tired. She held out an arm for his inspection. “Why wouldn’t I know what this Serena does? ’It’s my body, isn’t it?”

  “We’re hoping to remedy that situation fairly soon, when we believe you’ll be able to withstand what you’ll learn.” His voice, s
oft and comforting, soothed her shattered nerves and apprehensions. He knew his work and she felt confident that he would complete her treatment successfully. But knowing the certainty of it made her tremble. The day was very close!

  She needed his skills and she knew it. But the final resolution already haunted her. “I’m a strong woman, always have been,” Martha said. “But how can knowing these things possibly be so dreadful that a mature, grounded woman like myself wouldn’t be able to cope with knowing?”

  “We’re waiting to be sure you’re ready,” he told her, his dark eyes full of concern. “The time is coming fairly soon for the fusion or integration of your alter with yourself. What are your feelings on the matter?”

  “Uh—maybe another session or two of hypnosis would be a good idea, doctor. Maybe you’ll know then if I’m really ready or not.” Martha knew she’d just copped out, putting off the inevitable. I’m a sniveling coward for having asked for more time.

  “We’ll do that, of course. You’ll be unable to heal this affliction until everything is out on the table and the connection between you and Serena is complete. You remember we talked about that?”

  Martha saw the compassion in Dr. Carton’s eyes, and it gave her the courage to continue on as before. She’d face her monsters soon enough. “Thanks, Doc, let’s keep going. I admit I’m a coward, but it’s also very hard to find that, as a little child, you hadn’t been safe in your parents care. I find that unbelievable! It shatters all the good things I remember of my childhood, of my father, and mother.” Tears slid unbidden down her cheeks.

  “You’ll be fine, Martha. You really will. But you’re right in having those feelings about your parents. It is hard to see them in another light. Remember, I’m quite certain they never knew what was happening. They’d have taken action if they’d known.” He turned to call Dr. Schoenfeld, who’d managed not to have patients of his own during Martha’s visits to Dr. Carton. They continued on with her treatment together.

  ***

  Later, feeling exhilarated, as though a big part of her burdens had suddenly, mysteriously lifted, she visited Jeannie, wondering how Will’s recent change of mood had affected his behavior. Had he internalized his recent bout of anger and lashing out? Hopeful they could counteract this new and aggressive persona, Martha felt ready for another trip to the children’s play area at Biggie’s Burgers.

  When she entered the home, Will came running to her. “Grammy! I been waitin’ for you. When we goin’ again?”

  “My, my, aren’t you full of vim and vigor today?” She looked at Jeannie. “How’s he been these past few days?”

  “I’m good! Been to the park, too, an’ I didn’t hurt the ducks, neither. I just played, Grammy.”

  “He’s been much brighter, taking interest in things again,” Jeannie confirmed. “I’m wondering if it’s a phase or if he’s turned a corner. I don’t know, but what a welcome change!” Her bright hair looked freshly washed and her make-up well applied. The sparkle in her deep blue eyes had returned as well. Martha felt a rush of well-being at this change in her daughter. It made a difference in her, too.

  “Are you going out, Jeannie?”

  “Why—because I’m put together for a change?” Jeannie patted her hair. “See, my hair is combed and everything.”

  She laughed and Martha’s heart filled to bursting at this positive change.

  “Well, it’s nice to see. I’d begun worrying about you, too.”

  “It’s been tough. Martin is in a quandary, thinking of re-locating and going through all we have these past months.”

  “Any good news is welcome, you know that. Don’t let your moving be influenced by me in any way. Of course as a nurse, I can work anywhere so I wouldn’t be far behind. I need to see my grandson. I could never live far away from him, or you and Martin, either.”

  “What about this boyfriend, or should I say—man friend?”

  “I don’t know yet, and I can’t worry about it now. Things are moving pretty fast with the doctors, too, so maybe all this mental stuff will be over with before I have to make a decision about moving or getting too heavily involved.”

  Certain that Bob had fallen in love with her, Martha feared her mental problems would turn him away, despite his protestations of understanding. “He doesn’t need to be burdened with a mental case.” She laughed, refusing to relinquish that sense of lightness she felt.

  “Mom, you sound almost giddy today, you all right?” Jeannie frowned, until she saw her son waiting eagerly, his red coat pulled on.

  He couldn’t stand still. “I’m ready, now!”

  Will took Martha’s hand and they left for his favorite eating place. Martha wondered what would happen today. Every visit had become a major event in Will’s progression toward either regression or normalcy.

  After ordering, they took a seat in the play area. Will craned his neck looking for the bully. “That bad boy’s not here, Grammy.” He dug into his nuggets and fries. Even his appetite seemed improved.

  After eating, he removed his shoes and ran into the play area. Martha watched intently. She saw him climb, slide, scream with joy, and help a small toddler girl who had fallen “You were a real gentleman helping that little girl,” she told Will. “That’s what a big boy does, when someone needs help.”

  Driving back to Will’s home, with him sitting in his safety seat, she looked at him in the rear view mirror.

  “She was soft and nice, Grammy. I wanted to look at her down below, but I knew you wouldn’t want me to.”

  With sinking heart, Martha saw a sly look in his eyes she’d never seen before. “That’s right, Will. Her mother wouldn’t have liked it either.”

  She tried to hide her shock at his words. But with this new concern, she worried he might have become overly interested in sexual things. Is this another aberration we have to work out?

  “Girls are different down there, aren’t they Grammy?” “Of course they are, Will. One day, you will learn all about how different boys and girls are. Your father will be the one to help you with that, when you are ready to know these things.” But she knew he’d also learned the ugly side of sex from the violence committed upon him, more than any little boy needed to know at age five. And the evil way he’d learned it made her shudder.

  She imparted this new bit of news to Jeannie. “I don’t know what this means, but his doctor needs to know this new wrinkle on his road to recovery.”

  “At least he isn’t sitting in front of the TV or kicking his toys all over the place.” Jeannie hesitated. “Mom, I have decided to go visit the Mercer family and I’m taking Will with me. After what we’ve suffered, they might appreciate a visit from someone who’s been there.” Her look of determination told Martha not to object. And Jeannie was right. It could be helpful for both families.

  Still, she had to ask, “Are you sure it’s good for Will? Won’t it bring back bad memories or visions for him to face all over again?”

  “I’ll call the doctor first and see if it’s okay, but think of what they must be suffering now. I believe a visit from someone in a similar situation will help. I know a visit from someone who’d been through the same thing would have helped us, but no one came.”

  “Let me know how it turns out. Poor little girl, her life is changed forever, too.” Martha felt that raging, deep anger again. Wondering where her towering rages came from, she put it toward her feelings about Will’s assault. She couldn’t remember ever feeling anything like this in past years. Why now? Where did it come from? That is not like me at all, or, the person I used to be. Could my new self be a part of this?

  CHAPTER 22

  Ryan read the reports coming up on the computer. “This Denny Garver has a history spanning nearly twenty years, from what these reports say.” He picked up his phone. “Hey, Harris, could you come in here for a minute?”

  Harris entered quickly, his questioning eyes on Ryan. “Yeah, what’ve you got?”

  “Look at this damned stuff. Why
wasn’t this monster put away years ago? Apparently, he’s a nice, unassuming little fellow, who quietly goes about abducting and torturing little girls. His MO in these files suggests he ties them with pretty hair ribbons before he sexually molests them, shaves their heads, stuffs objects into just about any orifice—oh God! Damn it, anyhow!

  “Most have been found dead. Only a very few have escaped to tell the tale. The descriptions they give fit Denny Garver to a tee, and we’ve got DNA this time. We got that off the little Mercer girl. I hate to do it, but we need her to ID him in a line-up as well. I guess we know how those ribbons tie in.” He looked at Harris in disgust, a tear lurking in the corner of his eye, and shook his head. “Son of a bitch!”

  “The reports fit with the ribbons we found,” Harris confirmed. “Man, it’ll be hell to put that little child through the line-up process, but what else is there? Her parents are very cooperative, that’s lucky.” He heaved a sigh of regret. “We’ll have to have them bring both little girls in to take a look.” Harris grimaced. His job held many such unsavory moments. “Shit!”

  “How’d Denny Garver take his arrest?” Ryan asked.

  “Wanted to fight, but most of his fight’s been cut out of him if you get my drift.” Harris laughed. “He’s real popular down in his cell. Gets catcalls and suggestive remarks all day long. Worries he’ll be deprived of his civil rights. Got himself a shyster lawyer already, plans on fighting the case and suing the city for allowing predators in jail to prey on the likes of him.”

  Ryan laughed. “I’m impressed!” He spread out the damning evidence displayed on the copy sheets from the computer. “Wonder how Garver will fight this stuff we’ve found in his home.”