Hidden Vices

by C. J. Carpenter

  Nappa paused, asking with more sensitivity, “Are you sure you’re okay? Did you get a look at who it was?”

  “No, he was wearing a dark visor on his helmet. I couldn’t see his face.” Megan shifted gears. “So, what news do you have for me on Duane Baker?”

  “Well, you were right. The guy has a long list of priors. There are many stints in and out of jail, ranging from bar brawls to assaulting a police officer to DWIs. He did a short period of time in prison for holding up a liquor store when he was eighteen. He also spent three years in juvie. I don’t know that I’m able to find out why, given juvies are sealed.”

  Megan never liked to give away private contact information, but in this case she knew it was in good hands. “Hmm. I’ll text you Clarice Snowden’s number. She helps me out with … things. She’s a computer expert. Don’t ask questions, just go with it. She was a big factor on the McAllister case.” Her comment was meant with silence from Nappa. “Anything else?”

  “Actually, yes. I ran the glass that your college buddy drank from and— ”

  Megan whipped into a frenzy. “You what? You did what?”

  “I don’t care if you get mad or not. I didn’t have a good feeling about that guy. When you went to get ready to go out to lunch, I took the glass he drank out of and ran his prints.”

  “What the fuck? Who the … who the fuck do you think you are?” Megan went from zero to completely livid without passing Go or collecting $200.

  “Hey, know what? I was looking out for you. You’re vulnerable at the moment. You’re in a healing stage from a lot of life shit and I have your back, so fucking deal with it.”

  Nappa rarely, if ever, swore. Megan held the top trophy for that honor. “You had no right.” But the wind was coming out of her sails.

  “Well, he has no record. He dropped out of law school and he’s divorced, but I will say there are a number of years that are unaccounted for. Taxes are paid and—”

  “Maybe they’re unaccounted for because he’s done nothing wrong. Let me know when you find out more on Duane. And I want that fucking glass back. It belongs to the Macks, damn it!” Megan immediately ended the call. “Son of a bitch!”

  Megan took the box of sign language DVDs over to her laptop. Speaking again in an all too natural voice to a dog, she said, “Can you fucking believe that Nappa? I mean, what the hell was he thinking?” She tapped her fingertips on the coffee table. “Actually, I’m going to send him a text. He should also check out Norden, the guy from the marina. I have my concerns.” Clyde didn’t look up. He continued to chew his bone. “God, you’re like a crack whore with that thing.”

  For the next few hours Megan practiced the first disc on finger spelling. It was a repetitive exercise. She surprised herself by picking it up more quickly than she thought she would. She then switched to a harder video of practicing actual signs and promptly felt as though she had two left hands. She should have been prepared for the challenge given her interactions with her last boyfriend, eons ago. She would direct him to turn left but motion to the right. Ambidextrousness was never going to be a part of her future. Funny enough though, give her a loaded gun and her aim was 98 percent on target with either hand.

  Callie rang Megan again. This time she picked up. “Hey.”

  “Hey, Trouble, what’s going on?”

  The background noise from Krogh’s made it difficult to hear Callie. “You sound a million miles away, I can barely hear you.”

  “Wait a second.” Callie opened and closed a door and the din subsided. “What are you doing?”

  Megan rubbed her neck, staring at her computer. “I thought I’d learn finger spelling and sign language. Actually, attempt to learn would be a more appropriate way to put it.”

  “It’s not easy, I know.” Megan could hear Callie’s smile. “Tell you what, because I’m such a sweet guy, I’ll come over and do what I can to help.”

  “Callie,” Megan sighed, “this isn’t a sex romp every time we get together. Everything is getting too complicated and I don’t need any more complications in my life. And you are becoming complicated. I shouldn’t even be doing what I’m doing in regards to Vivian.”

  “Trouble, I stayed over the other night and nothing happened. I don’t look at you that way. You know me—certainly better than my ex-wife did. I’m not a player.”

  Megan raised her eyebrows and spoke in a mock shocked tone. “Ha! I’m saying it because I’m familiar with your work.”

  “Okay, let me say that in a different way: I’m not a player with you.”

  Megan stared at Clyde thinking, I really hope you’re not all dogs. Then she remembered Nappa. She knew there were still good guys out there.

  “Come on, I won’t even hold your hand or try to kiss you. I’ll sit at the opposite end of the couch.”

  Megan intentionally kept silent for an extra moment. “Chinese food. And I’m not putting makeup on or even running a brush through my hair.”

  “Well, so far it looks like a promising evening.”

  Callie arrived an hour later with the demanded Chinese food. They sat in front of the fire eating while intermittently working on the sign language videos. Megan returned to the first video of finger spelling.

  “Before you play it, show me how much you remember of the alphabet,” Callie challenged.

  Megan waited a moment and went through the entire alphabet, rather slowly, but she aced every letter.

  Callie smiled, clearly impressed at how fast Megan had absorbed the information. “That’s actually pretty good for a first-timer. You’ll get faster and it will come more naturally to you, but good job.” He raised his glass to Megan.

  “Thanks.” Megan was proud of how fast she’d caught on, but she was not looking forward to the next video.

  “Now it’s time to add the harder bits to this. My suggestion is to first watch the whole video, and on the second go-round go slow, pause, and repeat each sign. But before we start, can I ask you a question?”

  “You can ask, doesn’t mean I’ll answer,” Megan said while she was failing at her attempt to get the plastic wrap off another DVD.

  “Are …” Callie searched for the right words. “I guess what I want to ask is what upsets you more—your mother dying or the fact that the person responsible is still alive?”

  “That’s one hell of a multiple choice question.” She cleared her throat. “Don’t they go hand in hand?” She finally got the plastic off. “Hopefully, you’ll never have to think of what your answer would be in that scenario. That’s my answer.”

  Discussion on that particular topic was now over.

  Megan thought for a second. “Wait, how come you know it so well? Sign language, I mean.”

  “Don’t you remember in college the kid who lived down the hall from me, Rich? He was deaf and he taught some of us how to sign. I only had a handful of classes with him, but he had this interpreter. She signed like lightning she was so fast. And she was hot. I dated her for a while.”

  Megan searched back. “Wait, Rich was the tall, lanky guy with the long blond hair?”

  Callie nodded. “Yeah, that’s him. Nice guy, funny as hell too. He got a lot of girls while he was there, come to think of it.”

  Megan closed her eyes. “Men.” She then remembered, “Wait, he wasn’t at Marist the whole four years, was he?”

  Callie had a mouth full of food and mumbled, “No.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “He transferred to Gallaudet University in DC.”

  It was all starting to come back to Megan. “Okay, that’s right. That’s the private school for the deaf and hard of hearing.” She fumbled, using the chopsticks to pick up a fried dumpling. “Why wouldn’t the judge send Vivian away to a place like Gallaudet? If he hated her so much, why not just get rid of her?” She stared at Callie waiting for an answer.


  “Well.” Callie’s tone became reflective, bordering on brooding. “Vivian and her mother were very close. From what I could tell, they were like sisters. I don’t think Vivian ever wanted to be far away from her mother. And I certainly don’t think her mother wanted Vivian that far away.” He shrugged. “I’ve never asked her, but that’s how it seemed to me.”

  “What about her mother’s death? Doesn’t it seem a little off? I mean, she hung herself? I don’t buy it. She’s the mother of a challenged daughter. They were thick as thieves, from what I’ve heard.”

  Callie set his drink down. “Doesn’t everything in this town seem a little off? And if you ask me, the judge had something to do with it. But no one will ever truly know now.”

  Megan couldn’t disagree with Callie’s observation. “That’s an understatement.”

  “Do you regret coming out here?” His question was sincere. “I mean not just the town, but everything with Vivian. The judge. Me.”

  She searched not for the right words, but the most honest response. “Well, I can’t say I expected this. I can’t say I’m thrilled. My intention in coming here was entirely different.” She stared down at Clyde and smiled. “I got a dog out of it anyway. Seriously, though?” She knew her next sentiment would be as much of a shock to Callie as it was to her. “There is a part of me, a part my family instilled in me. Even with everything I’ve gone through and my family has gone through, I have about three percent of myself left that believes everything happens for a reason. Maybe it was a kind of fate that brought me here. There were plenty of other choices. Warmer choices!”

  “Well, I’m glad you chose to come here, if that’s any consolation.”

  Megan smiled and switched back to the conversation about Rich. “I wonder where Rich is now.”

  “He friended me on Facebook about a year ago. He’s living in Seattle as some type of doctor working on the research end of a medical study.” Callie shrugged. “It looked as though he was doing well. I think he got married too.”

  Megan smiled but added a squint. “I can’t picture you on a computer.”

  He had a mock look of insult on his face. “Very funny. It’s difficult to picture you vertical.”

  “You’re a pig, Callie.”

  “Hey, I even get the Marist newsletter, but they wouldn’t remember you. You never made it to class.”

  This was certainly not always the case. Perhaps it would ring true on occasion, but Megan never missed her favorite class freshman year. Even if she were still buzzed from the evening before, she’d make the journey across campus at eight o’clock on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Professor Paulson drove two hours one-way to teach and Megan had a high level of respect for anyone who would do that for a bunch of rowdy freshman pain-in-the-asses. She also got a kick out of him personally. The first day he walked into the lecture hall he wore sandals, jeans, a Bob Marley

  t-shirt, and literally did look like Jesus, beard and all. The guy seated behind Megan had whispered in her ear, “Is it just me or …”

  “No,” she’d whispered back, “I’m just waiting for the apostles to show up.”

  “I wonder if he can make water into wine?” the young man asked.

  “That would help,” she laughed back.

  Freshman year philosophy was one of the few classes Megan never missed. It was a fond memory for her. “Hey, I never missed my morning class that year!”

  Callie looked at Megan, thought about, and then said, “Actually, you’re right, you never did, did you?”

  “Nope.” She answered with a prideful tone. Clyde whimpered. “You have to go out, boy?” She let him out and Clyde zipped down the deck stairs as if on a mission from God, though Megan was sure a call from Mother Nature was responsible for his rush.

  Megan and Callie started the second video for her to watch, as Callie suggested. Halfway through they heard a piercing yelp from outside. It was the kind of noise that was excruciating for any dog owner to hear—pure, agonizing pain. Clyde made the noise three more times. Both Megan and Callie flew off the couch and ran outside without bothering to throw on their coats. Running down the stairs, they bolted left and right into the yard. There was no sign of Clyde until Megan spied his head under one of the bushes in the landscaping. He was on his side, whimpering in pain.

  “Clyde! Clyde!” Megan ran over to him. “Callie, he’s over here!” She moved her hand over his side. Megan could feel something wet and sticky in his fur. “He’s bleeding! Help me pick him up.”

  Clyde would have been impossible for only Megan to lift with her bad arm. Together, they were able to get Clyde into the living room.

  “Jesus Christ, he’s bleeding so much. We have to get him to a vet. Where’s the closest one?”

  “I have no idea. I’ve never had a pet and this isn’t my town.” Callie had a look verging on panic.

  “Wait, I’ll check the book the Macks left for me.” This turned out to be a fruitless option. “Shit!”

  “Megan, he’s bleeding a lot. Think of something!”

  “I’m trying, Goddamn it!” She reached for her cell. “Wait, hang on.” She dialed and Leigh picked up on the second ring. “Leigh, I need your help, Clyde is hurt. I need the name of your vet. It’s an emergency.” Megan grabbed a pen and removed the cap using her mouth and spat it out. She wrote down Leigh’s instructions. “Okay. Got it.” She looked over at Callie. “Do you know where Landing is?”

  “Um … yeah.”

  “Do you or don’t you?”

  “Off of Lakeside Boulevard.”

  Megan returned to Leigh. “Okay, we’ve got it. We’re going now. Thanks.”

  Megan wrapped Clyde in a sheet, and by some miracle they were able to carry him up the driveway to the bottom of the garage. They placed him on the back seat.

  “I’ll drive. You sit back in the back with him,” Callie ordered.

  Thirty-Five

  It took ten minutes to get to Landing Plaza, yet for Megan it felt like three hours. Callie slammed on the brakes in front of the veterinarian’s office. Megan ran in yelling for help and two assistants jetted out. Upon getting a look at Clyde, one yelled, “Get the doctor! This is serious.”

  Megan followed and went with them into the back room until the vet came in and asked her to stay in the waiting room. She ran her hand over Clyde’s head whispering, “You’re going to be okay, boy. I’ll be right outside.” Her voice cracked. “Right outside.”

  They sat in the waiting room. Megan went from crisis mode to angry mode. It was her natural path, dictated by adrenaline. “What could have done this? A bear? A raccoon? What?” She started to pace.

  Callie shook his head. “I don’t think a bear. They’re in hibernation mode. Just sit down and wait until someone comes out.”

  Twenty minutes later a vet technician emerged from the back of the office. “Clyde is stable, but we’re going to have to do surgery.”

  “What’s going on?” Megan asked.

  She held out her hand and showed them three bloodied BBs in a baggie. “There are still two more in, one in his neck and another in his side. The one that hit his neck is what caused the real bleeding. It grazed an artery.”

  “What? He was shot with a BB gun?” Megan held up her palms and her response bordered on a scream. “I don’t understand, he was outside for less than fifteen minutes. It’s a fenced-in yard!”

  Callie rubbed her back. “Megan, you need to calm down and hear her out.”

  “We need your permission to perform surgery.”

  This was an incredibly surreal moment for Megan. “Well, what happens if you don’t? What happens?” This was an odd question coming from a Homicide detective, especially Megan. She knew what would happen.

  The vet assistant hesitated. “We would then need to put him down. He will bleed out unless we remove the last two BBs.”

 
There was zero hesitancy in Megan’s response. “Do it. Do the surgery.”

  Megan sat with her head against the wall while Callie went to the deli next door to get them coffee. Thoughts zipped like comets through her exhausted mind.

  I didn’t hear a shot. Or shots? What the hell is going on? Everyone gets hurt around me. People. Animals. Who would do something like this to an innocent animal? Nothing is making sense now.

  Callie returned with the coffee. “Here. I couldn’t remember how you take it.” He placed a bunch of sugar packets and half-and-half pods on the side table.

  “Thanks.” She sipped the bitter coffee. “This tastes like it was made ten hours ago.”

  Callie raised an eyebrow. “It probably was.”

  “Why didn’t we hear the BB gun? Multiple shots and we didn’t hear anything.”

  “I was thinking about that too.” Callie stopped to add more milk to his coffee, an attempt to give it minimal flavor. “The wind is strong tonight and the house is really well insulated.”

  “But we heard Clyde.” She shook her head. “What am I talking about? I’ve never even heard a BB gun go off. I’m assuming it’s like one of my guns.”

  “I remember one of my neighbor’s boys, when I was still married, that is, had one.” He searched for a description. “It’s more of a snap. It’s fast. It doesn’t resonate the way a real gun does.”

  “Like a snap of the fingers sound?”

  He nodded. “Kind of. A little higher pitched, from what I remember.”

  The next few hours they sat in near complete silence. Megan paced once in a while just to move her nerves around. A few minutes after another mini-lap around the waiting room, the vet technician came out. She had a hesitant look on her face. “Mrs. McGinn?”