“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to the M.E., try to get things expedited so you can make arrangements with a funeral home.”
Neither one of us said anything else for a few minutes. I reflected on the news that Jason was supposed to be with Cody’s family while Mr. Dexter was out of town.
“Did you know Cody’s parents very well?”
“Not really. I knew Cody, though. Good kid, just a bit shy.”
“I kind of gathered that much.” I placed my arm across the back of the bench and asked, “Did Jason ever mention anything about the Smiths?”
“Like what?”
“Anything you may consider a bit odd about Jackson… or maybe his father?”
Mr. Dexter wrinkled his forehead. “You think Bob had something to do with this?”
“How well do you know him?”
“He travels a lot on business.” An ambulance raced by with lights flashing and siren wailing. That startled Mr. Dexter. “Sorry… um… What’d you need to know?”
“What do you know about his job?”
“Not a whole lot. I know he’s in advertising.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I think he deals with technology companies like Novastar and Titan Electronics.”
“I’m familiar with both companies. An old buddy of mine is head of R&D at Novastar in Seattle.”
“Okay.”
“So, Mr. Smith has to travel to sell advertising to these companies?”
“He develops marketing campaigns. Helps negotiate sponsorship deals with NASCAR. You know, stuff like that.”
“So, he’s a creative, intelligent gear head.”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
“And Austin is his youngest, right?”
“That’s right.”
“You have any idea what happened between Austin and Jason? What put a rift in their friendship?”
Mr. Dexter smiled a little. “Just one of those things that boys get into at that age, I guess. Jason paid more attention to Cody. Austin got his feelings hurt when Jason didn’t pick him to be on his kickball team during gym class.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah, that’s it. They would have made up. Kids always do.” Mr. Dexter’s face flushed. “I can’t believe he’s gone.” Through choked words he said, “He was only eleven years old. He was such a good kid. Smart. Kind.” He looked into my eyes and added, “Why would anybody want to hurt him?”
I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Some people are just evil. We can’t explain it. But we sure as hell can make them pay for it.”
He took his sunglasses off and wiped his face with his shirt. “Have any suspects?”
“A couple. You know, you think you really know somebody, but then they pull a fast one on you. I see it all the time. Guy beats, or even kills his wife, and then his friends and neighbors talk about how he was such a model citizen. It was completely out of character. It’s hard to truly understand why anybody commits violent crimes, but if we can figure out that piece of the puzzle, then we’re halfway there.”
Mr. Dexter nodded his head slightly. “What do you think happened? The paper says it might have been a cougar. Is that what happened?”
“It’s possible, but I can’t substantiate anything based on speculation.” I couldn’t ignore the fact that a jaguar had killed Deputy Chandler, but that was outside the city limits. “Cougars are rarely seen in urban areas.”
“But, it is possible. It’s possible he wasn’t mur…” He sighed.
“Yes, and for what it’s worth, I hope the papers are right.”
“Yeah.” Mr. Dexter sighed again and stared at a photo on his cell phone.
“Jason joined the Boy Scouts this year. He was so excited to move up from Cub Scouts.” He handed me the phone.
In the photo, Jason stood near a river wearing a Boy Scout uniform. He had a proud smile ending in dimples in his cheeks. He held a fishing pole in one hand and a large bass hooked to a line in the other. “He loved to fish, didn’t he?” I asked while handing the phone back.
“That was the first time he ever caught a fish.” He gazed at the phone and cried. “If this wasn’t a wild animal,” he whimpered, “promise me you’ll find the monster that killed my son.” He turned to face me. “Find him… and kill him.”
“I’ll find him. I can promise you that.” As I stood from the hard bench, I further promised, “And when I do, I’ll make sure he realizes that he made a huge mistake when he chose to hurt a child.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ward of the State
After discovering Jason Dexter was supposed to have been staying with Cody’s family at the time of his death, I found it imperative to get Cody to speak to me. I hadn’t eaten all day and it was almost seven in the evening, so before heading over to the hospital I picked up a combo meal to go at Dairy Queen and a couple of banana splits. The nursing staff would have already served Cody his dinner, but maybe a sweet bribe would help the kid open up.
I ate my cheeseburger and most of my fries on the way to the hospital. The scanner was unusually quiet for a Friday night in Austin, but then again, the clubs on Sixth Street didn’t start getting wild until later. Unless Dispatch called me to another homicide or armed robbery, I didn’t care anyway. The beat cops could handle it. My main concern was that closed-lipped orphan at the hospital.
I parked my car near the loading dock next to a white Dodge Grand Caravan, saving me the headache of having to hunt for a parking space. I recognized the man unloading a mortuary cart from the back of the minivan. I lowered my window and then honked my horn a couple of times to get his attention. He glanced up and waved when he recognized me.
Reggie Santiago and I had played football together in high school. Actually, Reggie had done most of the playing. I’d done most of the bench warming. I loved the sport, but I’d been piss poor at it. How I’d managed to stay on the team, I have no idea. Reggie was also the reason I had a moderate understanding of the Spanish language. If it hadn’t been for Reggie’s assistance in high school, I would have failed Spanish class. I still can’t speak the language worth a damn, but understanding it sure comes in handy with the chief’s Tex-Mex. And Reggie’s Mex-Tex.
“¿Cómo te va, hermano?” Reggie greeted as I exited my vehicle with the bag of banana splits.
I gave Reggie’s hand a firm squeeze. “It’s been a long time, my friend. I see your dad still has you handling first calls at the funeral home.”
“Ya sabes cómo es mi papá.”
I knew exactly what Reggie’s father was like. He was a real tightwad when it came to hiring staff for his funeral home. Back when Reggie had first started working there, he had tried to recruit me as a driver. I’d even considered chauffeuring the dead, until the words “minimum wage” came up.
Reggie pulled the cart a few feet and closed the back door of the minivan. “Ever since mi papá bought these new mortuary carts, he said there wasn’t a need to hire anybody. Piensa que una persona puede operar por sí mismo.”
“English, buddy. My Spanish is still uno poco rusty.”
“Lo siento. I said that he thinks one person can operate it by himself. Never mind getting the body onto the cart.”
“What about the nursing staff?”
Reggie laughed and countered, “When you have three hundred fifty pounds of dead weight on the hospital bed, I still bust my back. Even with the help of nurses. Mi papá needs to hire someone to help me… at least part time. Sabes que? I’m not getting any younger.”
I nodded and walked with Reggie as he pushed the mortuary cart towards the back entrance. He punched in a code on the security panel and waited for the metal door to ease open. I motioned for Reggie to enter first.
“So, what’re you doing here? Visiting familia?”
“Nah, I’m here on official business. I’m handling that case you’ve probably seen on the news.”
“Really? Any suspects yet?”
“I have my suspicions.” I step
ped towards the elevator, while Reggie pushed his cart beside me. “I’ve been trying to get this poor orphaned kid to talk, but he hasn’t opened up much.”
“Must be hard for him.” Reggie tapped the call button on the wall and turned the mortuary cart around. “I’ve been reading the stories in the paper. No tiene otra familia?”
“As far as I know, yeah. No other family.”
“Man, that’s rough.”
The elevator door opened. I waited for Reggie to pull the cart into the elevator backwards before following him inside. “What floor?”
“Third floor. Skilled Nursing.”
I laughed and said, “That always gets me.”
“Yeah, you don’t want those unskilled nurses taking care of you.” We both laughed, and then he asked, “¿Qué te parece? You think it was an animal, like the news says?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
The elevator chimed and the doors opened.
“Well, I’ve got to go pick up Mrs. Rosario.” Reggie squeezed my shoulder and wished me luck on the investigation.
“Thanks, Reggie. Don’t break your back lifting your passenger.”
Reggie smiled, pushed the cart out of the elevator, and then disappeared around the corner. After riding up the elevator a couple of more floors, an older gentleman and a young woman stepped inside. I could tell they had been crying. Hospitals sure as hell weren’t the most joyful places to visit. I tilted my head in a polite greeting, exited the elevator, and found Cody’s room down the hall.
The first thing I noticed was the lack of a guard. The chief must have pulled him off duty after my unfortunate incident with the Smiths. A doctor and an attractive Hispanic woman, with long, light brown hair and dressed in a business suit, stood inside the room. The woman was signing a document on a plastic clipboard. Cody’s bed was empty.
“Excuse me?” I knocked on the door. “Where’s Cody?”
“May I ask who you are?” the doctor asked, retrieving the clipboard from the well-dressed woman. He glanced at my Dairy Queen bag.
I pulled the bottom of my sport jacket aside to reveal my badge.
“Detective Aaron Sanders, APD. I’m investigating the deaths of the boy’s parents.”
“Oh, okay. My apologies, Detective.” The doctor pointed to a closed door to my left. “He’s in there getting dressed.”
“You’re releasing him?”
The woman stepped toward me, and said, “Hi, my name is Maria Jimenez. I’m with Family Protective Services.” She showed me her credentials. “Cody is now a ward of the State, so we’ll—”
“Ward of the State?” The restroom door cracked open and then closed. “You’re putting him in foster care? I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Officer Sanders,” she began.
“Detective,” I corrected.
“Detective Sanders,” she said, clearly annoyed, “Cody needs to be in a home where he can be nurtured and loved, and can feel safe, after what he’s been through. He’s an orphan now. His family carried no insurance policies, and the hospital has done all they can do for him here.”
“Insurance?” I cocked my neck and huffed. “That’s what this is about? The hospital isn’t getting paid, so you’re just dumping Cody into the system after only a week?”
“He has no need for any physical care here, Detective. He’ll continue to have access to counseling through the State’s social welfare program.”
Cody stepped out of the restroom and glanced at the bag in my hand. He stood in the doorway while I continued my conversation with the social worker.
“Do you at least have a family set up for him?”
“We’ve arranged for him to stay at Saint Hedwig Youth Home for the time being. He’ll be with other boys his age, and it’ll only be temporary until—”
“I’m familiar with that orphanage.” And I would rather have forgotten it if I could. I pursed my lips at the idea of sending Cody there.
“Then you understand that it’s a good fit for Cody. They have one of the best facilities in Texas.”
“Yeah, great place,” I said, not bothering to hide my sarcasm. I looked at Cody. “How do you feel about this?”
Cody shrugged, but his dull expression told me what I needed to know. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea, either. “May I speak with you out in the hall, Mrs. Jimenez?” She hesitated, but followed me outside.
“What is it, Detective?”
“Look, I’m sorry for being an ass in there. I knew it was just a matter of time before the State took custody, but I need to talk to Cody about what happened. He—”
“I can assure you that with proper counseling we’ll be able to assist you with helping him work through this trauma.”
“You don’t understand, Mrs. Jimenez.”
“Miss Jimenez,” the social worker corrected, suggesting that she was single, and judging by the tone in her voice, probably recently divorced. I set the bag of banana splits on the floor. “I need to talk to this boy before you take him to the orphanage. It’s very important to my investigation.”
“Making him relive this nightmare with your questioning is not what he needs right now, Detective. He needs to be with other kids his age, socializing, playing kickball. The more active he is, the easier it will be for him to recover emotionally.”
I leaned against the wall with my hand over her head. “I’m pretty sure what would help the kid is if he knew the bastard who killed his parents was locked up behind bars. I need to know what happened, and he’s the only person who can tell me.”
Miss Jimenez glared at me, and then glanced at my hand, towering over her head.
I stepped back and said, “His parents aren’t the only victims here. As a Texas DFPS agent I figured you of all people would be a bit concerned about those dead kids.”
Miss Jimenez broke eye contact for a moment.
“We have physical evidence that places Cody at the cemetery,” I continued. “He knows what happened, and I know it’s going to be difficult, but I have to talk to this boy tonight.”
“Can it wait until morning?” The social worker glanced at her watch. “I would like to get Cody settled in at Saint Hedwig before it gets too late.”
I checked the time on my own watch. It was a quarter after eight. “Saint Hedwig is about a half-hour drive from here. Let me take him.”
“Detective.”
“I’ll follow you. That way we both get what we want. You get him to the youth home at a halfway decent hour and I get to talk to him on the way there.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t need Cody all traumatized when we get him to Saint Hedwig.”
“He won’t be. I promise.” I picked up the paper bag and smiled.
“I brought him a banana split… with extra fudge and nuts.”
A slight upward curl formed on the social worker’s lips. She breathed out a heavy sigh and pointed a stern index finger at me.
“Do not make me regret this.”
I grinned and made the sign of a cross over my chest with two fingers. “Cross my heart. I promise to be tactful.”
“May I ask what you’re going to ask him?”
“Just some questions about him and his friend Jason.”
“Jason Dexter? The dead boy from your investigation?” Miss Jimenez crossed her arms.
I extended both palms outward. “Don’t worry. I promise I won’t turn Cody into a basket case. In fact, I think he’s starting to trust me.”
“All right, fine,” Miss Jimenez said, and returned to the room. I followed her inside. She said to Cody, “Detective Sanders is going to drive you, okay? He just needs to make sure you get to Saint Hedwig safely.”
Cody looked up at Miss Jimenez, and then back at me.
I lifted up the Dairy Queen bag and said, “You like ice cream?”
†
“This ice cream is melted,” Cody complained as I turned the key to start my car.
“Damn it
,” I said. The engine struggled to turn over, but wouldn’t come to life.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” said Cody. “It’s just ice cream.” He placed the clear plastic container back inside the paper bag.
“Come on you piece of…” I glanced at Cody and frowned as I turned the key again. Once again, it failed to start. I held a tight grip on the steering wheel and murmured, “Son of a…”
I had just replaced the starter a couple of weeks ago and regretted selling my reliable Honda Civic to buy an old Corvette. As I sat, dealing with my buyer’s remorse, headlights from a vehicle turning towards the loading dock shined in my face. A silver Mercedes Benz rolled up and stopped next to my car. It was Miss Jimenez.
“Nice car, Detective.”
“Thanks.” I grabbed the bag of ice cream off Cody’s lap and got out. “Now if I could only get the damn thing started, we’d be in good—”
The Corvette suddenly roared to life. I dropped the bag and turned around. Cody smiled at me. I wanted to reprimand him for turning the key, but the engine was running. That’s what mattered, so I gave him a pass.
Miss Jimenez pointed to her watch. “Time to go.”
“All right, all right. Let me just throw this bag in the dumpster.”
Cody and I didn’t speak for the first few miles. Without a working radio, we just listened to the air conditioner blowing and the throaty rumble of the V-8 engine. The silver Mercedes pulled away as I slowed to merge into traffic on I-35. As soon as I was safely onto the highway, I pressed my foot down on the accelerator to catch up. The Corvette’s engine bellowed, and the car quickly accelerated down the highway, shoving Cody and me into our seatbacks in the process.
Cody had a death grip on the door with one hand and held the edge of his seat with the other. I laughed, and said, “Sorry about that. I hope I didn’t scare you.”
“Are you kidding? That was so cool!”
Devil's Nightmare (Devil's Nightmare, Book 1) Page 9