“Benjamin Vicksburg. As in the Civil War battle.”
“And give me a couple of phone numbers where I can reach you or people who are involved in this.”
Ben gave him his cell number, but he couldn’t think of any other number aside from Haley’s. He looked up and Sam was nearby. He shoved the phone in his hand. “This is a throat doctor for Lilly. Please tell him I’m legit.”
Sam took the phone. “This is Detective Sam Shanks of the River Remez PD. Who am I talking to?”
Ben went back to Lilly, who was now on a gurney. He took her hand. “I’m coming with you, baby.”
Sam went up to Ben and gave him back the phone. “How’d you find that guy?”
“The wonders of the Internet. I’m going with her to Albuquerque.”
“To the medical center?”
Ben nodded.
“We need to talk, but first you need to get yourself treated.”
“Whatever.”
“Not whatever. Now.”
They were loading Lilly into the ambulance. “I gotta go with her, Sam. I’ll meet you in Albuquerque.” Ben climbed inside.
No one bothered to object.
The hatch closed. The sirens blared and the ambulance took off. Ben closed his eyes and prayed.
Chapter 15
They were separated as soon as they hit the emergency corridor in the medical center—Lilly to the OR and Ben into an ER examining room. Slowly, he took off his clothes and put on a robe.
Suddenly he was a patient.
A nurse swabbed his chest. He hadn’t really felt the stab beyond the initial jolt, but he sure as hell felt the cleansing. He was dressed with a temporary bandage to stop the bleeding, although by that point, it had trickled down to a slow leak. With an IV in his arm, he waited on an examining table—alone and utterly depleted.
He reached into the back pocket of his pants and made the hardest call of his life. How the hell did Shanks or any of them do this? The line clicked in. He heard himself talk although he didn’t even recognize his own voice.
“George Tafoya, please. It’s an emergency.”
“Name?”
“Benjamin Vicksburg.”
Several minutes later: “Ben, what’s going on?”
His throat momentarily seized up. Then he said, “Something’s happened to Lilly—”
“Oh my God! Is she okay?”
“She’s . . . in surgery at the Albuquerque medical center. You and June have to come down—”
“What the fuck happened?” When the kid didn’t answer immediately, George said, “Ben, what the fuck happened? Tell me!”
A long pause. “She was attacked, George—”
“How?” Then a gasp. “Is it the guy you asked me about? Kevin Barnes?”
“Yes.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s in surgery—”
“Answer the fucking question, Ben!” His voice became clogged. “Is my baby okay?”
“I rode with her in the ambulance. When they took her into surgery, she was alive and conscious. You’ve got to get down here. The surgeon is going to need your permission to operate on her beyond emergency measures.”
“Oh my God! How the fuck did this happen?” Ben heard panting over the line. “Fuck this. June and I will be down as soon as I can figure out—”
“I’m sorry, George.” But the line was already dead.
Detective Milton Ortiz came into the room. Ben hadn’t seen him since Katie Doogan’s body had been found. The detective’s eyes went to Ben’s bandaged chest and then to his face.
“Sam asked you to keep an eye on me?”
“He asked me to check in on you—make sure you got treated.”
“I got treated.”
“Are you all right?”
“I think it’s going to be a very long time before I’m all right.” He swiped at his wet face. “Have you heard anything about Lilly?”
Ortiz shook his head. “Sam’s on his way.”
“I’ve got to call my parents. Let them know I’m okay.”
“They’ve been contacted.”
“I can talk if you want to ask me questions.”
“I’ll leave that up to Sam.”
“He’s mad at me.”
“You scared the shit out of him.” Ortiz looked at him. “We all know it was self-defense.”
With a gun down his throat?
Ortiz went on. “He stabbed you, and you were jacked up, not in your right mind. It was self-defense and that’s all there is to it. I don’t want to hear anything else. Got it?”
Ben got it. “What’d they do with Barnes?”
“I’m sure he’s locked up somewhere, demanding to speak to his lawyer.”
“He is a lawyer.”
“Then I’m sure he knows the ropes.”
“I fucked up, Detecive. He got her right under my nose. It’s totally my fault.”
Ortiz’s eyes narrowed. “Son, you listen to me and listen good. You need to put the blame where it belongs. On Kevin Barnes. He did it. He is solely responsible. Not you.”
“But—”
“There are no buts, Vicksburg.”
Ben didn’t answer. Nothing was going to help until he was sure that Lilly would be all right—at least medically. She’d never, ever truly be all right again, and that was on him.
Some guy in a white coat came into the room. His name tag said dr. norman millstein. He looked about sixty: steel-wool thinning gray hair and a mustache. He washed his hands, introducing himself, and then he started to peel away the gauze. “You’ve got quite a fan club out there asking about you. There must be over a dozen kids clogging up the waiting room, wondering if you’re okay.”
“You mean if Lilly’s okay . . . the girl who came in with me. Do you know what’s happening with her?”
“She’s still in surgery.”
“Is she okay?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you know who’s doing the surgery?”
“There is a team.”
“Is she stabilized?”
“I don’t know.” He took off the bandages. “You need stitches, young man.”
“Whatever.”
“Not whatever. You may not realize it, but you’ve got some pretty nasty-looking wounds.”
“I know. I hurt.”
Ortiz took out his phone. “I’d like to take pictures before you close him up. It may help him down the line . . . with the case.”
“Go ahead.”
As the detective zeroed in on the wounds, Ben looked down. He had been stabbed and sliced in several places—nasty-looking gashes.
Ortiz finished up his photo taking. To Millstein he asked, “Do you know if the River Remez police have arrived?”
“Not sure.”
He turned to Ben. “I’ll go see if I can find Shanks. I know he wants to talk to you.”
“Thanks,” Ben said, although he didn’t know why. After Ortiz left, he said, “Could you find out about the girl?”
The doctor was opening drawers and taking stuff out, preparing to sew him up. He said, “I’ll do what I can, but truthfully, you’ll know when I know.”
“You can’t peek in?”
“No, it doesn’t work that way.” He was holding a hypodermic needle. “This will hurt. Hold still if you can.” He started injecting around the wounds. When he saw the boy wincing in pain, he said, “Just a few more.”
“It’s fine.” Ben was angry at Ro, at Haley, at Griff, at the world, but most of all, he was furious at himself. He rarely wasted time on emotions. They just got in the way of everything. But anger was something that came naturally. The adrenaline was definitely wearing off and he was sinking into a deep funk. He also did depression pretty well. The shrink he had seen after Ellen died said that depression was just anger turned inward. It sounded a little convenient at the time. Now he understood.
I should never have left them alone.
His belly and sides started tingli
ng. Five minutes later Millstein started to stitch him up.
“Feel anything?”
“Nope.”
It was weird because he could sense the needle going in, but it didn’t hurt. As the doctor worked, Ben’s wrath began to subside. What was the use of screaming at anyone? They probably felt worse than he did. He had done something—fought back and brought down the monster. Ro had battled for Lilly’s life. But Haley . . . poor Haley. Lilly was her best friend. There were no words right now that would comfort her. And Griff? He surely had enough guilt to last a lifetime.
More invisible damage done by that waste of space.
Ben knew that when he saw the kids, he’d have to be a source of compassion and understanding even if he didn’t feel that way inside. Because he wasn’t about to let that bastard have any more power over him. The idea of seeing George and June was nauseating, but he had to face them as well. If they decided to hate him, what could he do? Join the club. He hated himself.
“You’re a good patient,” Millstein told him.
“Thanks.” Ben was thinking, I should have killed him.
Then he thought of his parents, of Haley, and of Lilly, of course. He’d have to be there for them. He would dedicate his life to her recovery. He couldn’t do that if he was in jail.
Shanks walked into the room, looking old and weary. Dr. Millstein looked up. “We’re a little busy in here.”
“He’s a detective,” Ben said. “He needs to talk to me.”
“Not while I’m doing this. You can’t move, and if you talk, you move.”
“I won’t say anything,” Shanks said.
Millstein didn’t answer, but continued sewing.
“How’s it looking?” Ben asked Shanks.
“Nasty.”
“Stop talking,” Millstein said.
“I meant how’s it looking for Lilly.”
“I don’t know, Ben.”
Millstein stopped and regarded Shanks. “Please?” He pointed to the door.
“Let him stay,” Ben told the doc. “He makes me feel better . . . someone who looks as shitty and worn out as I do.”
Shanks managed a very weak smile. “Stop talking. Let him finish up.”
“Thank you,” Millstein said.
Finally, the doctor stood up. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
When he left, Ben looked down at his stomach, a patchwork quilt done by an Amish person on crack. Shanks saw him staring. “You’ll have stories to tell.”
“It would have been a better story to see his head explode.” Ben looked up. “Can you find out how Lilly’s doing?”
“She’s in surgery, Ben. That’s all anyone knows.”
“Are her parents out there?”
“They arrived about five minutes ago.”
“Have you talked to them?”
“I introduced myself. I told them we had the bad guy behind bars. I don’t think they heard me.”
“Do they hate me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“That’s the second time you’ve told me that today.”
“Ben, I want to tell you something.” Shanks bit his lip. “You know you saved her life. If you had waited for us . . . for the cops to break down that door, she would have been long gone.”
“I’m sure George and June don’t see it that way.”
“George and June are completely focused on Lilly. I guarantee you they’re not giving you any thought. But when they do, they’ll be very grateful.”
“If she’s okay, maybe.” Silence. “I don’t even know what okay means anymore. How can she recover from this?”
“The human spirit is very resilient if you give it a chance.”
“Yeah . . . right.” Ben rubbed his forehead and felt a pull on his stitches. As soon as the anesthetic wore off, it was going to hurt whenever he moved. “If she doesn’t make it, I’ll kill myself.”
“She made it down to the hospital,” Shanks said. “That’s step one.”
“I just want to wake up six months from now and be normal. Or as normal as I was before all this happened. I’m so frickin’ tired of living a nightmare!”
The doctor walked in along with Ben’s parents. Laura’s eyes immediately started watering. Ben said, “Mom, please don’t.”
“Oh my God!” She turned her head and stifled a sob. Even his dad had watery eyes.
He asked, “Are you all right?”
“I’m talking and walking, Dad. So I guess the answer is yes. How’s Haley? She really needs you two more than I do.”
Laura had managed to calm herself down. She kissed her son’s cheek and Ben took her hand. He said, “I’m fine. Go tell Haley that I love her and I’m glad she’s okay. Tell her that.”
William wiped his eyes. “I love you, son.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
After washing his hands and gloving up, Millstein said, “I’m going to need a little elbow room. He should be out in about a half hour.”
“You’re not keeping him overnight?” William asked.
“It’s not necessary. But someone will need to bring him in tomorrow to re-dress the wounds.”
“If I need to sleep somewhere, I’ll stay at Grandma and Grandpa’s.”
Laura said, “There is no way you’re going to go there looking like this. It’ll kill them.”
“Mom, they’re going to find out.”
“Ben, you’re coming home.”
“That’s stupid.”
William said, “Laura, you can’t hide this from them. It’ll probably be in the papers. It’s news, honey. We’ll have to prep them.”
Laura started crying again. Millstein said, “Maybe it’s better if you two wait outside.”
Shanks stood up. “Let’s give him some room.”
Laura handed Ben a bag of clothing. “Sam said he’ll need your clothes.”
“Yeah, right. Thanks.”
“Let’s go,” his dad said.
The three of them left. Millstein started cleaning the wounds. Ben felt a faint sting and told him so. “I’ll give you some pain medication.” He unwrapped some gauze. “I’m going to mummify you now. It’s the only way that the bandages are going to stay on.” As the doc worked, the quiet was haunting. Millstein stood up. “I need some more gauze.”
As soon as he left, Ro peeked her head through the door. Her eyes were wet, swollen, and red-rimmed. “Hi.”
“How’s Lilly?”
“No word.”
Ben couldn’t think of anything else to say. He beckoned her in with a crook of the finger and she came over. She looked him up and down, covered with gauze, his face and arms splotched with blood. Her own shirt was bloody red, evidence of her heroism. Her hair was matted, her face was drained of color. If there was such a thing as a zombie, she was it.
Ben licked his lips. “You did good.”
Water fell from her eyes and rushed down her cheeks. Her voice was a whisper. “It’s all my fault.” A pause. “You must hate me.”
Ben smiled. “I will admit . . . that I’ve been thinking a lot. And . . . I will admit . . . that I went down that road. That if it hadn’t been for that stupid rehearsal, this wouldn’t have happened. And if you hadn’t insisted that I go, this wouldn’t have happened. But then . . . honestly, probably something else would have happened. Because he wasn’t going to stop. So . . .” It was getting hard to breathe. “We could do the blame game. Or . . . we can put the blame where it belongs . . . on a psychopathic serial killer . . . and save ourselves a lot of misery. So let’s hate the monster and not each other.”
She wiped her tears. “That’s kind of you to say.”
“Ro, we’re all sick about Lilly. That’s what we’re all thinking about. But it’s still better than thinking about a burial. And that’s because of you.”
Millstein came back in and regarded Ro, who immediately burst into tears. The doctor waited a few moments until she had regained some control. Then he said, “He’ll be out in a little
bit. It would be better if you waited outside.”
She kissed his cheek. “Are you okay?”
“Sure.”
Millstein cleared his throat and she left. He finished up about a half hour later, giving Ben an armful of medication along with several prescriptions. Ben put on his new and blood-free clothes—jeans and a T-shirt—but his sneakers were still blood-spattered. Pain was seeping in where before it had just felt numb.
Numbness wears off quickly.
Pain lasts a long, long time.
Chapter 16
Dozens of pairs of eyes were upon him. Ben figured that there must have been around forty people, although who they were barely registered. But they included people from the pueblo—some of them outside doing a healing chant. His mother relieved him of the bag of medication along with a bag of bloodstained clothes. “Sit down, Ben.”
“I’m okay.”
She was pulling vials out of the bag. “Sit down!”
“I’m fine.” But he wasn’t. He hurt, but he didn’t want any pain medication. Nothing to dull him. His eyes scanned the faces around him and his eyes eventually landed on Haley. She saw him and looked away. To his mom he said, “One moment.”
Limping over to his baby sister—each step agonizing—Ben put his arm around her, taking her to a private corner. “Don’t talk, okay?” His breathing was labored. “It’s hard for me to talk, so you’ve got to listen. It’s no one’s fault except his.” She kept shaking her head no, her eyes pouring out tears. “Haley, blaming ourselves is a waste of time. We’ve got to keep it all together, okay? Whatever happens, we can’t let him fuck us up any more. If he does that, he really wins. And everything that happened today will be for nothing. So let’s just . . . hold it together until we get some news about Lilly, okay?”
Haley bit her lip and wiped her eyes. “Okay.”
Her voice was a mouse squeak. Ben kissed her head, and when she started to hug him, he gasped in pain. “Oh my God. Sorry.”
“I’m fine. Just . . .” He pointed to his cheek. “You can kiss me here.”
She did and they both walked back to the group. Ben looked around for an empty seat and the whole waiting room stood up. But then he saw George and June and Lilly’s two half brothers in a corner by themselves. June was facing the wall, rocking back and forth. Lilly’s half brothers were talking to George. His eyes were downcast, but when he looked up, he noticed Ben. He made the first move. They met in the middle of the room. George’s broad face was drawn and colorless. His dark eyes were piercing as they regarded Ben’s face.
Killing Season Page 51