The Vigilante

by Ramona Forrest

  Harris looked over the sheets with Ryan. “He’ll deny everything, of course, but some of those other cases will have DNA as well. When we put this together, he’ll get the death penalty. He won’t have such a nice time in the lock-up while he awaits trial. Most prisoners hate guys like him. On Death Row, he’ll want his own private cell, won’t he?” Harris couldn’t find a modicum of sympathy for the fiendish pedophile.

  “We need more information on this Callahan dude. No doubt he’s got damned near as big a backlog of cases, too. Anything come in on him yet?”

  “Not specifically, but reports from Harrisburg say they’re on the lookout for a dark blue sedan, ID’d by a six year old boy who barely escaped being lured into a car of that description. Do we know what Callahan drives?”

  Harris got excited. “Good question. We’ll have a look. Don’t need a warrant to look from the street. We’ll get one if we need to. Maybe we’ll get both these bastards off the street, though in reality, both are rendered useless anyway. Oh how it pains my aching heart!”

  Ryan chuckled. Justice, though illegally committed, was still justice in his eyes. “I’ll send a man out, take a look at Callahan’s car, and if it looks remotely suspicious, get full forensics on it. If it’s a wanted vehicle, get full forensics on the house, and his computer, too.”

  “It won’t be pretty, getting into Freddie boy’s computer.” Harris shuddered, “God, I hope his car is wanted. Maybe they’ve paid for their crimes via our vigilante. Won’t those two have a hellish good time being incarcerated?”

  “Scares the hell out of me just thinking on it. Let’s get some lunch,” Ryan suggested.

  “Hell yes,” Harris replied, and the two men left the station.

  ***

  Jake, already late for work, looked at the clock and decided he could squeeze in a shower before getting ready for another shift. His thoughts centered on Martha. Those purple spots he’d seen on her arm at least twice stayed on his mind. “She came to work with the stuff on her arms. Claims she didn’t know where it came from. Wouldn’t she have tried harder to cover them up if they were related to a crime?” he said, talking it through with himself while deciding what he ought to do about it. “If I tell the cops and they arrest her, she could lose her license. They might even try to tie her in with the crime on those two kid predators. She’s not the sort for anything like that.” He frowned. “No, couldn’t be, probably just a coincidence—got to be.”

  Shrugging his indecision away, he decided to sit on his information for the present. But his curiosity was aroused. He hoped to work with Martha again, wanting to scope her out. “An overly intense old broad, good nurse, though,” he said as he grabbed a towel.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about it as he drove to work. “Her face has a familiar look. I swear I’ve seen her somewhere, but not the way she looks at the hospital, all business and overly sentimental like she is. Must have been somewhere else, but where? Maybe the mystery woman will work tonight,” he said and chuckled, pleased with the quality of his own wit.

  ***

  Martha took a shift against her better judgment. “I hope I’m up to working this afternoon. It’s one place I can forget my crazy problems. I’ll be too busy to worry about things. It’s never dull on med-surg.” Her major worry lay in giving her patients her full attention. How could she when somewhere in her mind, another being lived and had a life unknown to her? That mysterious being obviously did things Martha knew nothing of. “If this shift goes well, and I don’t kill anyone, maybe I should work more to get my mind off things.”

  Assigned to med-surg again, she felt a wave of relief. Bob was off and she’d not be going to the psych ward again. Somehow, that night had caused her even more pain and anger. She had enough of her own problems to handle without the mental debacles of other people. She entered the report room. Jake was on duty and she shrugged. He’s a lazy ass, an unfeeling lout, for a health-care worker but pleasant enough, otherwise.

  Gracie Monaghan began the taped report and Martha listened attentively. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Jake eyeing her and wondered about it. He’d ignored her on other occasions when they’d worked together. Maybe he thinks I overreacted that night over Jean M.

  Jake, trying not to be too overt in his observation of Martha, noted the frown and squinted look that came over her face when she noticed him checking her every move. He took up his duties and left the area, feeling slightly confused about the woman. Her arms were clear this evening and she didn’t look like a predatory person. He was unclear what one looked like, but not her. “Must be a coincidence, no other explanation could be possible,” he mused half aloud.

  Focusing on one of the new grads fresh out of nursing school, he put Martha from his mind. Unsure of themselves, the newer nurses hadn’t passed their boards as yet, and he found them willing to learn from him as well as the others. They weren’t above giggling at his slim, blond good looks, either, especially the little blonde chick. She’d just made her BSN in Nursing and he saw her as a possible. She’ll pull down a bundle when she gets going.

  Martha had had a quiet shift and enjoyed it. After her report, she glanced idly over the list of patients. Ice crawled insidiously into her midsection at a name she’d missed earlier, Peter William Sykes, 74-year-old male. Room 372, bed A. Whispering in horror, she gasped, “Could it be possible he’s the same man who worked on our farm so long ago?”

  Unwilling, yet compelled, Martha walked in the direction of his room. She had to know who lay in bed A. With leaden feet, she moved down the corridor toward the back areas of the Med-Surg Ward while the off-going personnel moved toward the bank of elevators and their cars.

  “Hey Martha, you’re heading the wrong way,” someone called, but moving as if in a trance, she continued on. Nervous tension mounted until she felt tight as a stretched rubber band. With each step, her scalp burned and the coldness within her veins froze her until she could scarcely catch her breath.

  She reached the room. Her skin burned like a bonfire as she opened the door and slipped in. In the bed lay a scrawny, withered, corpse of a man, far advanced into his cancerous disease. His admitting diagnosis: Prostatic Carcinoma with metastasis to lungs, brain, and spine.

  She stood over his bed. He was the same man. She felt certain of it, though no vestige of his youth remained for her to recall. Yet, to her mind, an aura of evil hung over him like an invisible cloud.

  Seeing the man now, she felt nothing of the fear she’d had as a child and felt no sympathy for that wasted form on the narrow hospital bed. Sickened at seeing him, she felt that burning fury rise within her and willfully wished the man untold amounts of pain and suffering.

  Why do I feel like this? Why do I have such hatred of this poor wasted man? What the hell’s going on, here?

  This sudden appearance of a ghost from her past, made her guts twist into a painful knot. She’d tell Doctor Carton of this occurrence. In some vague way, she knew this man held the key to her recovery.

  Standing at his bedside, knowing who he was, she felt no mercy for the pitiable thing he’d become. Did he feel the intensity of her burning hatred? Occasional moaning escaped his withered lips, but he never opened his eyes.

  ***

  Jake had noticed Martha’s retreat into the back reaches of the ward instead of heading to her car. “What the Hell?” he murmured. He slunk back into a recessed area to watch her. Others left the ward but he fixated on Martha’s leaden, sluggish, movements and whitened features as she walked slowly toward one of the rooms at the back. God! She looks like she’s in a trance! He slipped closer and followed.

  When she entered room 372, he stood outside the door and listened. For long moments, he heard no sounds emanating from within. He peeked in to see Martha standing over Pete Sykes aged, emaciated form for several moments. She said nothing, just stood there.

  Martha couldn’t leave. The familiar foggy feeling came stealing over her body and mind. What’s happening to me? W
hy now? Is this something to do with my other person? Panic shortened her breathing. I’ve got to get out of this place before I do something I shouldn’t. I can’t let this crazy mood overtake me.

  She felt her face drawing into a nasty snarl. She leaned over the crumpled soul on the bed, uttering a menacing, vicious growl. “You filthy devil, I hope you suffer the tortures of the damned! I hope you burn in hell, and your pain-filled death is long in coming!”

  Shocked at her vicious outburst, Martha turned and fled from the bedside. What on earth came over me to say such things? In her hurry to exit the ward, she nearly knocked Jake off his feet. Her glazed eyes neither saw him, nor recognized him.

  Jake pulled back in shock, steadying himself after her hasty departure. “God, she nearly decked me!” He’d overheard most of what she’d said to the luckless soul in room 372. The patient must have been in bed A, because she’d stood close to the door.

  “Must have a grudge against that poor old man, but how would she even know the guy?” For Jake, the mystery of Martha had just deepened dramatically.

  Although he was absolutely sure she wouldn’t have done the two mutilations, the woman certainly managed to mount a hell of a raging temper on short notice. He’d seen it and heard it—and on a dying man, at that!

  “Whew! I’d hate for her to have it in for me. That woman’s got one hell of a temper. You’d never know it to work with her, all sentimental and touchy-feely the way she is.” Jake walked slowly from the hospital, his mind in a whirl of confusion. “I’ll never go to sleep right away after this. Might as well go check out The Paradisio, just for the hell of it.”

  ***

  Shaken by the sight of that old wreck of a man, Martha drove madly home and immediately sought the comfort of her bed. Why did that pathetic creature cause her such terrible unease and dread? Seeing him had set her on edge to the point she couldn’t sleep. She rose from her bed and wandered her home, seeking something, anything, to ease her mind.

  My life is a series of horrible shocks any more, and I want the end of it! Why now? Why did I have to look on that man’s face once again? She wondered why she hated the sight of Sykes so deeply. He was an ugly part of my childhood and I was afraid of him. Must I assume he is part of what is wrong with me? What else?

  She suddenly realized she eagerly awaited her next visit with Dr. Carton. Well, that’s a new one!

  Heading back to bed, she swayed and steadied herself on the dresser. She felt faint all of a sudden. Not again! She barely made it to the bed before she blacked out.

  ***

  Serena did not want or need sleep. Her time to meet Martha edged closer. “That lady has a lot to learn, but all in good time.” She uttered a loud, raucous laugh. “I need a night out of this stuffy little shit-hole.”

  She applied her usual heavy, over the top make-up then pulled on the high leather boots and a very short skirt with flimsy, nearly see-through top with hanky-hemmed edging. Fishnet stockings added a final touch. Checking herself in the mirror, she thought she made a very fetching picture.

  “This is sleazy enough to fit right in at The Paradisio. It’s late, but so much the better. I wouldn’t want to see Jake sitting there eyeing me again. I get the idea, he thinks he knows me. He doesn’t really. He’d better be careful; I’d hate to nick someone not a predator!” She giggled at the thought of it, got in her car, and drove to the dive.

  Entering the crowded, smoke-filled atmosphere, she moved quietly toward the back where the booths were more concealing. Knowing she attracted attention, she shrugged all comments and invites away, as she edged along. Brushing off one offer, she snarled, “I’m not here for a pick-up, buster, get lost!”

  I could take on some of these guys, but who knows who they are, or what they are. She laughed softly. Taking a quiet, dark booth, she ordered a stinger, sat back, and relaxed, surveying the scene. The two boys she’d clipped were absent, but she spotted Jake sitting at the bar. He hadn’t noticed her arrive, and she wanted to keep it that way.

  A wild, rousing dance number began, and the participants whirled around over the rotating, intermittent, flashing, psychedelic lights under the dance floor. Serena enjoyed this event most of all. The dancers looked surreal as they moved sensuously about, like puppets jerking rhythmically on strings. Men with men, women with women, and couples of both sexes danced to the frenetic tempo.

  “Care to have this dance, lady?” A soft, low, and commanding voice broke into her quiet observations, along with the heady aroma of an expensive, exotic cologne.

  Serena looked up to see a tall, handsomely-mature man dressed in a finely cut, silk business suit—a big, solid gent with graying temples, a hawk-like nose, and extra-pale blue eyes. He was definitely of the male persuasion, but something about him set her on edge. With her nose tilted into the air, she declined his offer. “Sorry, mister. I’m not into dancing tonight.” She slid farther into her booth to emphasize her negative response.

  “Sorry, don’t cut it for me. I’m asking and what I ask for, I always get, baby.” He reached in and grasped her arm to pull her up, his expression, a sly one of self-assurance and power. His entire demeanor exuded confidence, magnetism, and power. This was a man who ran things his way.

  She jerked her arm away. “Excuse me, sir, but I don’t plan on dancing with you or anyone else.”

  She edged to the far reaches of the booth and the man slid in next to her, pushing himself far too close. She caught another whiff of his cologne, unusually seductive and enough to lull her senses. If anything would cause her to get up and dance with a man, it might be that. Whew. That stuff could make a girl do just about anything.

  “You’re a damned fine looking woman, and I don’t plan on taking a no from you. Got that?” He bent a darkened blue-eyed gaze into her eyes, and his brute strength sent a message she couldn’t ignore. He looked menacing in a cold, unfeeling way. Serena, definitely not wanting to create a scene with Jake in the place, decided she’d best dance with the man.

  Only his size and power kept her temper in hand. She didn’t like being forced into doing anything, but an attention-grabbing scene with that nosy-ass aide at the bar was something she had to avoid. Lately, Jake tended to watch Martha at the hospital for some crazy reason. It had begun to make her feel hunted and she resented it.

  Trapped, she decided to accommodate the big man. “Okay. Have it your way, mister, but don’t whine if I walk all over your feet.”

  “Not a chance, lady. I’ve seen you in here before. You move with the slinking grace of a damned cat. I peg you as a very fine dancer. And I’ll damn bet you’re all of that, and—oh baby—a hell of a lot more.”

  The suggestive way he uttered more chilled her deeply as he pulled her out of the booth and led her to the floor. A new round of wild music had just begun, and he swung her along to the beat.

  “Lady, I knew you’d be good, and you sure as hell are!” He caught her closer attempting a kiss. “Come on now. Don’t play coy with me, sister. I’ve seen your kind before.”

  “I’d have to doubt that all to hell, mister.” Serena leaned away from his body as far as possible. Resisting the man’s advances without creating a scene was not easy and she felt his growing anger in the vigorous way he spun her around.

  During a pass around the floor, she caught Jake’s prying eyes watching. She’d hoped to avoid that, but the hard-ass she was dancing with wouldn’t give up. Knowing what she had to do to allay any suspicions, she turned her attentions to the big man. She shot him a sultry, burning look from beneath lowered lids. “Hey, mister, you’re damned good yourself,” she crooned as she leaned against him, portraying a more than cooperative partner, maybe for the night. She swung wildly across the dance floor with him, the absolute picture of a more than willing participant.

  “Now that’s more like it, my little hell-cat,” he responded with a sparkle in his eye. “We might just have a real wild night of it. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve that’ll knock your socks off
. What’d ya’ say, baby?” He raised his eyebrows in a very suggestive manner and pressed his hard male body closer to her. He’d had more than a few drinks and Serena saw that as an advantage.

  She waited for the right moment. When whirling close to the entrance, she leaned into him, beguiling him into thinking he’d won the sexual game he played. And then, leaning far back, smiling into his eyes, she brought her leather-clad knee up hard into his groin.

  Serena watched him crumple onto the bustling dance floor, groaning in pain, his face ashen and sweating. Standing over him, she snarled, “Told you, I didn’t want to dance, you pushy bastard!”

  Spinning around on her spike-heeled boots, she stormed out the door without a backward glance. The dancers stopped in stunned silence while the wild music ground on.

  Completely startled by the action the woman had taken against her dance partner, Jake looked at a guy called Mike. “Man, did you see that? That foxy old gal just decked that guy she was dancing with. Wonder what the hell brought that on? Look at him, layin’ out there, groaning like a bastard.”

  “Well you might ask. That lady’ll be lucky to see another few hours if that guy gets his hands on her.” He looked at Jake, his eyes wide. “That fool woman just gave the knee to Charles Imperato, the biggest drug lord in this whole damned area... well, from what I hear, anyway.” Mike shuddered. “God, hate to have that bastard on my tail. They say he’s a bad one—likes to play rough with the ladies too, so they say.”

  “Ran out of here like ten devils was after her,” Jake muttered. “Wonder if she knows who her dance partner was?” He shrugged. People made stupid moves every day. This was none of his mix and, in this case, he was doubly glad. “I’d hate to have that man after me.”