Facing Evil

by C L Hart

  “Who is he, Abby?”

  “He’s Phillip Murphy’s lawyer. I’ve been trying to get hold of her parents, but so far all I’ve been hitting is brick walls.”

  Lincoln registered the name. He held his tongue, but only for a moment. “Phillip Murphy?”

  “Please don’t start,” Abby said. “Just give her a chance, okay? All it proves is that she changed her name and...” She stopped when she heard how her words sounded out loud. The evidence was there, though she still didn’t want to accept it.

  “Abby, I did some more background research on Sarah. I didn’t want to, I just thought maybe if I found— ”

  She was too tired to get into another disagreement with him. “Lincoln, I don’t want to go into this right now, all right?”

  “I understand and respect that, Abby, but there are a few things I think you should know about Sarah.”

  “Is this something I want to hear?”

  “I think you might want to, yes. Did you know that she has been estranged from her folks for quite a while, since her first year of college?”

  “I knew she hadn’t talked to them in a while, but I didn’t think it was that bad.” Curiosity furrowed her forehead.

  “Best as I could find out, they paid for her first year at NYU, and then...nothing. No tuition, no allowance, nothing; she was on her own. She changed over to a city college and finished her degree, supporting herself by waiting on tables and cleaning toilets. It took her six years, but she did it, by herself.”

  “Any chance that it was a ‘fly on your own’ thing?”

  “I don’t think so. According to my information, they haven’t spoken since. She scratched and clawed to finish, without anyone’s help.”

  Abby leaned back in the sofa and looked down the hall to where Sarah was scratching and clawing just to stay alive. “Thanks, Lincoln.”

  “No problem, kiddo.”

  They spoke a few more minutes longer, and then she hung up to call Phillip Murphy’s lawyer.

  Bartholomew Van Murien sounded just like his name — old, rich, and pretentious. He was reluctant to give Abby the number where Sarah’s parents could be reached, but she traded on her professional credentials to persuade him and he relented. It was an overseas number, so she contacted the operator to have it charged to the police department. She had no idea what time it was in Valencia, Spain, and she didn’t care.

  A groggy male voice answered the phone. “Hello.”

  “Yes, is this Phillip Murphy?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Do you live at, ” she repeated the address she had scribble on her pad of paper.

  “Yes, I do. What's going on? What the hell time is it? Who is this?” He was waking up and none too happy about it.

  A female voice in the background asked, “Phillip, who is it, dear?”

  “My name is Abby Stanfield. I am a detective for the city—”

  “Are you calling from the States?” he growled.

  “Yes, sir. My name is Abby Sta—”

  “I don’t care who you are. It’s...4:23 in the morning here.”

  The female voice in the background spoke again. “It’s someone from home? Who is it, Phillip?”

  “I realize that, sir. I’m calling about your daughter Sar—”

  “I no longer have a daughter!”

  The phone line clicked dead and Abby was left in silence. She sat for a moment, stunned by the actions of Sarah's father.

  “What kind of...” She hung up the phone and called the operator to put her through again. It took almost fifteen minutes before she heard the sound of the phone ringing. This time she heard the female voice answer. Abby immediately pictured a small, soft-spoken woman who had been raised in an affluent upper class society.

  “Is this Maggie — Maggie Murphy?”

  “Yes, yes it is. Who is calling, please?”

  Abby wondered if she was keeping her voice soft so as not to alert her husband. “My name is Abby Stanfield, I am a homicide detective, and I’m calling about your daughter Sarah. She was attacked—”

  “I’m sorry, we don’t have a daughter.”

  Abby didn’t believe her. “Mrs. Murphy, whatever happened between you and your daughter is your business, but Sarah is in the hospital fighting for her— ”

  “Who are you again?”

  “My name is Detective Abby Stanfield and I am with the—”

  “Are you her gay lover?”

  The question caught Abby off guard, but as she thought about it for a second, she realized it shouldn’t have. The question suddenly explained a lot. She couldn’t believe how cold Maggie Murphy sounded. “This call has nothing to do with...Sarah was brutality attacked and is in the hospital in critical condition.”

  “Was she attacked because she is gay?”

  “What? No!” Abby was astounded. “The man who attacked her is a serial killer. Sarah is lucky to be alive. Don’t you understand that?”

  “Are you gay?”

  “Are you even listening to me?” Abby didn’t realize how loud she had become until she looked up and saw Robin closing the door to the room.

  “Are you gay, Detective?” Maggie asked, not wavering.

  “Your daughter is in Sisters of Grace hospital, she is currently on life support, and we are unsure if she will make it through the next forty-eight hours. She had her throat slit.” Abby waited, but there was not a single indication of care or concern on the other end.

  “Please answer the question, Detective. Are you gay?”

  Abby rolled her eyes to the ceiling as she shook her head in disbelief. How could this cold, uncaring woman be the mother of someone as warm and loving as Sarah?

  “Not that it matters, or is of any business of yours ... but yes, Maggie, I am.” Abby was not surprised when the line went dead. She sat alone for a long time in the small room.

  The pain and rejection Sarah must have felt over her parents’ abandonment was something Abby couldn’t get her mind around. To be told by someone who was supposed to love you unconditionally that you no longer existed to them must have been devastating. It was evident why Sarah had lost all contact with her parents. In the silence of the small room, Abby wondered what her own parents’ response would have been. Would they have shunned and forsaken her? Would they have closed their lives to her, cast her off like vermin? She missed them, her parents. She missed not having them there when she was growing up. With a sad smile she recalled her mother’s laughter and her father’s caring touch, and she knew in her heart that their love was without conditions. She constantly told herself that they would have been proud of her. And they would have loved Sarah.

  Back down the hall, she stopped next to the glass that separated her from Sarah. She watched the rise and fall of Sarah’s chest and the rhythmic pulsing of her heart monitor.

  “I love you, Sarah Murphy. Unconditionally. Without prejudice. Without hesitation.” She lifted her hand to the glass and whispered, “I should have told you.” I should have told you everything.

  ♥

  She heard Lincoln’s voice in her dreams, asking for her. At least she thought it was a dream, until she heard his heavy steps on the hard hospital floor. Sitting up, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she tried to smile at her partner. The moment she was awake she knew something was wrong — something was out of place. Her eyes darted to Sarah, but she could see the young redhead resting in her medicated coma.

  Looking back at her partner, she realized what had struck her as odd about him. Lincoln always prided himself on his attire. His suits and ties were always the latest style, and always neat and pressed, without exception. But now his beige suit was soiled and wrinkled, his tie loosened around his sweat stained neck. As he got closer, she saw the sadness in his eyes and noted a distinctive smell about him that she couldn’t immediately place. “Lincoln?” she said as he stopped in front of her.

  He tugged at his tie for the umpteenth time. He had hoped that he would find the wo
rds on his way to the hospital, but there weren’t any. There was no easy way to tell her. “Abby.” He took a deep breath. “Abby, there was a fire...”

  Smoke...that was it. She recognized the smell. “Where have you been?”

  He took her hand and looked into her eyes. “Abby, there was a fire. Your house is gone.”

  “Gone? What do you mean gone?” She couldn’t process what he was saying.

  “They called me when they couldn’t reach you. It was all ablaze by the time I got there.”

  “My house...gone?” she said in disbelief. Not her house, the home she had worked so hard on.

  “I’m sorry, Abby. I was hoping to save some of it, but the fire...Abby, there’s nothing left.”

  Abby sat blinking back the tears. Lifting her head, she looked past Lincoln to Sarah’s still form in the bed and she recalled Billy’s words to her. When you are left with nothing, you’ll think of me!

  “He burned down my house, my home.” She looked to Lincoln, but he had no response for her. “He said he was going to take it all away, and that is what he has done.” The tears came. “He killed my dog, tried to kill my girlfriend, he almost cost me my job, and now — now he has taken my home.” She pulled her hand from his grasp and stood on shaky legs. “There is nothing left for him to take...is there?”

  “Abby, we’re afraid he might be coming after you.” He was close enough to see the color change in her eyes. The brown turned black as she summoned her courage from beyond her sorrow.

  “Bring it on! I’m ready for him! If he wants to come after me, I’ll be waiting for him!”

  “No, you won’t be!” Lincoln fired back, loud enough to get a dirty look from the nurse at her station. “That isn’t open for discussion. Banks wanted you under protection. I knew you would never go for that, but she told me to tell you that this is not your choice. Abby, I’ve been there beside you the whole way, and this time, I agree with her. Stay here; be with Sarah. She needs you.”

  There was a long, drawn out silence as she looked from her partner to the floor. She felt beaten — too tired to care, too tired to fight. “Okay.”

  She said it so quietly, Lincoln barely heard it. Surprised at how easily she agreed, he put his hand on her shoulder. “Because of everything we found with Sarah and the arson investigations at your house, we have him now. There is no question. All we have to do is find him, and he will never see the light of day without bars again.” He felt her trembling and knew their decision was right; it was time for Abby to step away.

  “I can’t believe my house is gone. Just like that, gone.”

  With an arm around her shoulder, he guided her to one of the chairs. “I’m sorry, Abby. Anything you need, just say the word,” he offered. “Anything.”

  “I’m gonna need a place to stay. Can you find me something?” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, then tried to smile when he handed her a handkerchief. “Maybe a house or something. I don’t know. I’m not sure I care.”

  “Hey.” He turned her head to look her in the eyes. “If you start thinking like that, then he has won. You have to care. I know it will be hard for right now, but look to the future.” He glanced back over his shoulder at Sarah. “Look to the future for both of you.”

  Abby rose and walked over to look at Sarah through the glass. Lincoln was a step behind her. “You love her, Abby. I’ve seen it in your eyes. And no matter what happened or how it happened, I’m sure she loves you, too. You’ll get past this if you want to.”

  “I read the stories in the paper,” she said softly as she watched the slow rise and fall of Sarah’s chest. “There is no way she wrote all of that.”

  “You sure?”

  “No. But there was stuff there she didn’t know. At least I didn’t tell her.”

  ♥

  Beep...beep

  Something was wrong. She could hear it, but she didn’t know what it was. Pulling herself from a deep sleep, Abby opened her eyes to look at Sarah’s angelic form, lying in white on the bed in front of her.

  Beep ... beep

  She looked to the machine that registered Sarah’s heartbeat. The steady rhythm had changed. Sarah?

  Beep ...... beep

  Abby hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but her exhaustion had caught up with her. Suddenly an alarm went off and she jumped to her feet as a red light started flashing. Sarah’s heart was slowing down.

  Beep ... ... beep

  Abby looked to Sarah and then to her monitor.

  Beep ... ... beep

  Almost instantly, the room filled with nurses, all bustling about, tweaking buttons and checking machines.

  Beep ... ... beep

  “I’m sorry, you’re going to have to leave.” A nurse took Abby by the arm and directed her to the door.

  Beep ... ... beep

  “You need to leave. Now!” One nurse ordered, as another dropped Sarah's bed railings.

  Beep …… beep

  “What’s going on?” Abby asked in a panic as she saw the numbers on one of the monitors dropping quickly.

  Beep ... ... ... beep

  The nurse ignored her questions and returned to her patient, quickly followed by a doctor. Alarms and buzzers were now sounding throughout the ICU as Abby watched Sarah’s fight for life. “Sarah — don’t you give up!”

  Beep ... ... ... beep

  Another nurse came down the hallway and tried to take Abby to another room, but the detective refused to leave. “What is going on? Tell me,” she demanded loudly, knowing the answer, though refusing to acknowledge it.

  One of the nurses directed her to the other side of the glass, “Your friend’s heart has been under a lot of strain and we...”

  Abby looked up as the small bleeps on the screen turned to a straight line and a steady tone. An alarm sounded, and the screen began to flash. Sarah’s strained heart had stopped. “Oh God, no!” She put her hand up to the glass and watched in agony. The nurses were calling Sarah’s name, telling her to fight. Medications were being drawn with large needles, as the doctor pulled the sticky pad from the crash cart. They had unhooked the tube from her respirator and were doing manual respirations with an Ambu bag. There was a steady stream of orders and commands between the nurses and the doctor until finally, “All clear! ” Abby blinked and jumped as the electric shock jolted Sarah’s limp form.

  She knew what the straight line on the monitor meant, even as she listened to the doctor call out names of medications and the amounts he wanted administered. “Hands up, clear.” Abby winced when she watched Sarah’s small body jerk with electricity.

  “Come on Sarah, fight!” Abby banged on the glass.

  “Clear!”

  The doctor released more electricity into Sarah’s chest. Abby’s eyes darted around the room, looking from the machines to the faces of the medical staff, but there was no sign of life in Sarah.

  “Again!” the doctor ordered, as Abby prayed. Everyone knew what to do as they fought to bring Sarah back; everyone except the terrified woman on the other side of the glass. Abby felt utterly helpless.

  “Clear!”

  Sarah’s body jerked again and all eyes turned to the heart monitor. They waited and then...

  Beep

  The lone sound stilled the room as everyone stared at Sarah’s monitor. “Come on,” the doctor urged, unknowingly repeating Abby’s own whispered words.

  Beep ... ... ... beep

  The room filled with activity as the doctor shouted instructions and the team rushed to carry them out. It seemed to Abby like organized chaos. Sarah had pulled through, and that was all that mattered. Closing her tear-filled eyes, Abby said a silent prayer to anyone who was listening.

  “Doctor, her neck.”

  The nurse’s words sent a wave of fear through Abby as she looked to Sarah. There was a growing stain of blood soaking through the bandage.

  “She’s blown her stitches.”

  The urgency in the doctor’s voice brought Abby a sense of
fear like she had never known.

  “She’ll bleed out if we don’t get that stopped.

  We need to get her back up to surgery STAT!”

  All hands did what they were trained to do. Wires were unhooked, and the side rails of her bed were snapped into place. “Call down to the OR and get us a room. And call Dr. Marcot.”

  They quickly headed to the elevators. The last view Abby had of Sarah was of her pale face against the dark red blood saturating the gauze around her neck.

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  Part 2

  Who are you to question me?

  In the darkness I can see

  What is a lie but not the truth,

  On the whispered wings of proof.

  Everything’s different; we’ve seen the past,

  Like rings on a lake from a stone you’ve cast.

  When the ripples leave and you’re left alone,

  Nothing’s the same because of that stone.

  A proud wild bird that’s kept in a cage

  Will die many deaths of a violent rage.

  A tortured soul that’s held confined

  Will eventually shatter a guilty mind.

  As anger robs and hatred takes,

  A distance grows as you lay awake.

  A mirror reflects one point of view,

  But it cannot show what you’ve been through.

  When it is all over, where will you be—

  Alone with your anger, or here by me?

  Justify the reasons, but in life there’s a toll.

  To survive you’ll pay with your innocent soul.

  Chapter 18

  Abby looked down at the railing of the bridge. Her fingernail followed the grain of the wood, her thoughts lost in the past. All of it seemed so long ago, like a nightmare in the distance, but Abby knew it was no dream. Her house was gone, her dog was dead, and Sarah —

  Raised voices pulled Abby back to the present and focused her mind back on Billy’s mutilated body and the ever present ache in her chest. There was some sort of commotion going on over by the body and it had drawn her from her recollections. Detective Webber and Lincoln were standing inches from each other. Abby saw her partner take a swing at Webber’s face. “What the...”