“Come on, Matt, don’t talk like that. We were made for each other.”
“It’s just that, Robbie, you’re not going anywhere in life. I don’t make much money on my job. I don’t want somebody who’s gonna pull me down.”
“I won’t pull you down. I promise. I’ll make enough money. I’ll work three, four jobs if I have to.”
Robbie started feeling anxious. What he thought had been a special night was turning out to be the same old thing – Matt leading him on and then disappointing him.
“How could we ever be together,” Matt asked, “if you have that many jobs?”
“We’ll find a way. I know it.”
“I don’t know. The more I think about it, maybe this was a mistake.”
“No. No, that’s not true.”
Tears began welling up in Robbie’s eyes.
“I hate to keep hurting you, Robbie. I guess I’m just a selfish bastard.”
Matt threw the covers aside. He got out of bed. His back faced Robbie.
“You’re not selfish. You’re the sweetest person I know.”
Matt didn’t answer. He reached to the floor and picked up his red bikini briefs. He slid them on.
“Where you goin’?” asked Robbie. “You’re not leavin’, are you?”
“I think I better.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost three in the morning.” He picked up his pants.
“Don’t leave me, Matt.” Robbie’s voice cracked; he felt like he wanted to cry. “Stay here with me. Say you love me, and we’ll be together forever.”
“Sorry.” He pulled his pants on. “We’ve had our time together.” He wouldn’t turn to face Robbie. Robbie knew why. Matt always acted that way whenever he felt shame.
Robbie just sat there watching, as Matt put on his shirt and buttoned it.
“It’s that other bastard, ain’t it?” Robbie said, both viciously and with hurt. A tear ran from his eye. Matt wouldn’t respond.
“He don’t love you like I do, Matt. He never can.”
Robbie threw back the sheets. He couldn’t help it; the tears came pouring out. He hopped off the bed, and he threw himself at Matt’s feet. He wrapped both arms around Matt’s legs. Matt tried to pull away, but Robbie held on for dear life.
Matt had zipped his pants, but he hadn’t fastened them. They came half-way down his hips, as Robbie squeezed those oh-so precious legs.
“What’s wrong with you?” Matt said. He tried to pull away. Robbie only clung that much tighter.
“I love you, Matt. I’ll never let you go.”
Matt tried to twist his way to freedom, but he succeeded only in dragging Robbie a foot or so along the carpet.
“Cut it out, Robbie. Have you no shame?”
“We belong together,” Robbie’s tearful voice remarked. “I’ll take care of you. I can get my hands on some money.”
“Will you let go of me?”
“I can. I been thinkin’. Me and Joe can get our hands on thousands.”
For an instant, Matt looked as though he hadn’t heard right. He looked down at Robbie in surprise.
“ . . . Thousands? . . . How’re you and Joe gonna get thousands of dollars?”
“We got a plan. It started last night. We can get the money, Matt.”
“You’re lying. Or it’s something dirty.”
“It don’t matter for you. It ain’t gonna hurt you. All you gotta do is enjoy the money.”
Matt watched him, not knowing what quite to make of the situation.
“It won’t be long,” Robbie continued despairingly. “We’ll have it soon.”
“When exactly is soon?”
“Real soon.”
Robbie noticed Matt’s face soften. It gave him hope. He put his head against Matt’s knees, and he squeezed Matt’s legs as if his very life depended on it.
“Please don’t leave me, Matt,” he blubbered.
He had to have this man. Matt was his first true love. Robbie wasn’t sure he could live without him. He couldn’t stand the thought of someone taking his precious Matt away forever. He would kill them.
He clung tightly. He cried fiercely.
It had been quite the irony. Simone had been visiting a girlfriend in the neighborhood on last night. She had been on her way out, when she had seen the police cars and ambulance parked in front of the Edwards’ house. When she had gotten the news of what had happened, she had almost instantly gone into shock. It hadn’t been long before virtually all of the neighbors had joined her in that state as well.
Simone was still in that frame of mind now, as she stood out in the street with what looked to be the entire neighborhood, as well as what must have been a large contingent from the adjoining neighborhoods. Simone stood in the front row of the crowd, not far from the curb.
Ambulance and police lights flashed in front of the Edwards’ house. There seemed to be no end to the dozens of police officers who stood or moved about the front yard. They seemed to constantly go in and out of the house. Simone was filled with anxiety. Word had circulated through the crowd that little Susy Edwards was dead, but word had also circulated that she was still alive. The police wouldn’t give any definite answers to any of the questions the neighbors asked them. The only responses they gave most of the time, had to do with demanding that the neighbors stop getting so close to the front lawn.
“Stay back,” they said.
This was impossible. It was simply impossible, Simone thought mercifully. That sweet little girl could not be dead, murdered at the hands of some burglar. Tori’s sister could not be dead. Tori would go insane if Susy were dead.
She had called Tori from her smartphone. She hadn’t gotten an answer, so she had left a message on the voicemail. She figured Tori might have been asleep and not heard the phone, though she had let it ring forever. Tori also might have run out to an all-night convenience store. She did that at times, if she felt even the slightest headache coming on, and she might happen to be low on pills.
Apparently, no one in the house had contacted Tori either, because she would have been there by now. Simone knew she had to get her friend the news, but right now, she just couldn’t move from the street. She just had to know one way or another if Susy was dead. She silently prayed with all her soul, that the child was still alive. If she wasn’t, God help that burglar. Nothing would stop Tori from getting to him. She would find her way to his throat, even if he was behind bars. Then she would kill him as brutally as any human being had ever been killed. Simone wasn’t so sure, that she wouldn’t help her.
The front door was open. Police were scattered all about the house. They dusted for prints. They looked for any kind of evidence they could find. Ava had been surprised, when she had heard one of them say, that they thought they had found something interesting. She hadn’t heard what it was they supposedly had, but it was apparently quite important.
She stood in the den, next to the recliner, puffing on another cigarette. Due to the past few hours of smoking, she now was starting to feel like one large, hot wad of tobacco. She didn’t know how much more her lungs could take. However, as long as the cigarettes helped her nerves, her lungs would just have to suffer.
Her face was tear-stained. She had a wild look about her, which was how she felt – as if she had been to hell and back. She didn’t know that she could be such a good actress. She had even briefly considered the thought that maybe she had entered the wrong profession.
Ava stared at the stairway. Susy lay on a stretcher, tubes running from her mouth and nose. Emergency Medical Technicians worked on her unconscious body, taking her pulse, and her blood pressure. They also attached wires from her body to silver, portable square machines. The machines had different buttons and small video screens on them; numbers, jagged lines, covered the screens. Ava assumed the machines were monitoring life, breathing, and brain patterns. There was also blood being pumped into her body. Susy had lost a good deal of blood.
There had been a policewoman standing
beside Ava, trying to comfort her. Ava had been nearly hysterical when the police had first gotten there. As a result, the police had decided to put off any questioning of either she or Henry, because they both were too upset. Ava had calmed down, and the policewoman had been called over to another officer to converse on some matter. Ava had been glad. She hadn’t been comfortable with the way the policewoman had been noticing her constant smoking of the cigarettes. She had looked at Ava rather strangely at times because of it.
A plan gone awry, Ava thought furiously. That idiot Joe. Not only had he possibly left important evidence behind, he hadn’t even done the job. The child had somehow survived, though it was still not certain by any means that she would live. As far as Ava was concerned, if the child had gotten a good look at him, and she ended up surviving, then Joe was on his own. She knew nothing. However, she did hate the thought that she had gone to all the trouble that involved this plan, and she still might end up not getting that Trust Fund. Was she destined to always be a poor preacher? she desperately wondered.
Henry was slowly escorted back into the room by two police officers. He had been in the hallway bathroom throwing up again. Jimmy had been taken upstairs. Ava had agreed with police officers that a boy his age shouldn’t be around such a tragic scene.
Henry walked extremely slow. He nearly collapsed. The two officers practically dragged him to the couch and sat him down. Henry first covered his face with his hands. Afterwards, he dreadfully released his face and looked to the stretcher that held his daughter’s body.
“Please . . . Please don’t let my baby die,” he begged the EMT's. “You can’t let my baby die.”
He looked up to the ceiling and clasped his hands together under his chin.
“Please . . . Dear God, don’t let my girl die. I’ll do . . . I’ll do anything you want.”
He broke down into tears again. The officers tried to comfort him as best they could. Ava felt a twinge of shame. She briefly looked down to the floor. She was very young, she considered. She could give him another child. That one would be theirs only.
Ava heard a sudden commotion at the front door. She recognized the voice, and she knew now more than ever, that she would have to put up her best acting job yet.
“Get out of my way!” she heard Tori yell at a policeman.
She had just appeared on the steps outside. She pushed open the door and entered into the den, almost in a daze. An instant later, Simone appeared behind her. Simone saw the stretcher and she put her hand to her mouth; tears immediately came into her eyes. However, Simone’s look of repulsion was nothing compared to Tori’s.
Tori stood motionless just a few feet from the couch. Her father called her name, but she didn’t hear him. She stared at the stretcher. She closed her eyes and then opened them again, as if to make sure that what she saw was real. She did it once more. An egregious look consumed her face, as she now realized that the stretcher resting her sister was not going away. A policeman walked up to her and asked who she was. Tori wouldn’t utter a sound. Another policeman who had allowed she and Simone to enter, answered the question. Tori looked around the room. She then looked at her crying father. Ava could tell that Tori just couldn’t make heads nor tails of what was going on. It all seemed too unbelievable. Tori then looked to Ava. Ava tried to put on an expression that looked sorrowful. She wanted to approach Tori and comfort her in some way, but her hatred for the woman was so strong, that she simply couldn’t do it. She acted like she too was in so much pain, that she could hardly move. She didn’t even bother to puff on her cigarette. She stood there staring at Tori, allowing an enormous look of pain to shatter her face.
Tori looked back to the stretcher. She turned and looked to Simone, as if to get some kind of verification that this had really happened. Then, slowly, her body began to go limp. She began to strangle a little. Her eyes rolled around in their sockets almost out of control. Her head dropped back. Simone went for her, seeing that Tori was about to fall, but she was too late. Tori dropped to her knees. She began to shake. With her eyes wide open, she fell to the floor on her side, slobber running from the edge of her mouth. Tori closed her eyes. Simone knelt down beside her, fighting through her own anguish. An EMT ran over to Tori.
Ava was well aware that she had better carry this act off real good, because if she didn’t, that lady lying there on the floor unconscious – was definitely going to try and kill her.
Chapter Sixteen
It was daylight, but for Joe, he knew that for him darkness would reign forever. He had long ago torn off the beard and wig. He was sitting up in his hospital bed. He wore a hospital gown. His left knee was bandaged. The doctor had told him he would live. Joe wasn’t so sure, however, that what remained in front of him could be considered life. It would be misery at best.
The only other person in the room was Detective Bent. He was a medium height, fortyish man with thick, curly black hair. He also had thick eyebrows and a thick moustache. His complexion was ruddy. He hadn’t been in the room long, the doctor having recently cleared Joe for questioning. Bent’s voice was deep and gruff sounding.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Riley,” he said, as he paced back and forth by the foot of the bed. “We got your ass dead-to-rights.”
Joe cringed at the sentence, though he knew it was true.
Detective Bent continued. “There’s a trail of blood in the Edwards’ den leading out to the carport. There’s blood in the truck, an ugly cut above your knee. We caught you with the truck, a switchblade in it. You had a disguise and extra clothes. And we're pretty sure the girl scratched DNA from your body."
He looked sternly at Joe. Joe didn’t say a word. He did nothing, but shake somewhat.
“It’s just a matter of time before DNA tests come back, and prove that the blood trail is yours. The kid’s blood was in your clothes too. Plus, you showed even more guilt by trying to run from police – who were after you for reckless driving, not murder.”
“Murder,” Joe said with alarm. “You said a few minutes ago the kid was still alive.”
“My screw-up. But the doctors across town at Del Toray General don’t have high hopes. You cut her wrists real deep. She’s in a coma. If she dies, you’re looking at the injection room.”
Joe just bowed his head and shook it in earnest. When all this had first started, he had been so confident, so fearless. Now he was starting to seriously regret what he had done. He was also starting to feel like a fool.
“Even if she lives, you’re gonna spend the next twenty years in prison. No parole board’ll set you free before then after what you did.”
All of a sudden Detective Bent banged his fist on the bed. It snapped Joe to attention. He then saw the man grow a beastly, almost deadly expression and charge over to where he sat. He stuck his face directly in front of Joe’s; the two men were nearly eyeball to eyeball. Joe never knew that he could feel the type of fear he had felt the past several hours, but then, he had never committed such a crime. His eyes popped with terror.
“You dirty, no good piece of shit,” Detective Bent spat at him. “What kind of a goddamn animal tries to carve into an innocent child. When you couldn’t do that, you had to suffocate her. She just had to die, didn’t she? All for a few measly stolen bucks. You worthless bastard. She’s ten-years-old. Ten fucking years old.”
Joe tried to open his mouth, but he couldn’t bring out any words. It had all seemed logical at first. Now, he even questioned why he had gone through with it.
“At least have some dignity in your worthless, sorry-ass life. Save the taxpayers some money and confess to your sick crime. It’s open and shut any damn way. You going down. At least admit it like a man.”
Joe knew it – lying would be useless. He had been informed about not having to say anything, his right to an attorney and all that stuff. But he didn’t see where there would be much use in lying. Maybe if he cooperated, the law would go a little lenient with him, especially if Susy Edwards lived. Howev
er, since he had to go down, he would make sure that all parties went down with him.
He suddenly felt a rage grow inside of him. It was a rage borne of Ava Edwards – that maniac who had gotten him involved in all this mess. He, as well as her, was going to look very good in PO. Prison orange.
“Okay . . . Okay, Bent. You want the story? I’ll give you the whole sorry-ass story. It’s gonna blow you out of your damn skin, but I got proof. I can prove every damn word of it. Get ready, you bastard.”
Bent watched him. The contempt in his eyes eased some, replaced by a dose of surprise. Joe seemed to gain strength from it.
“I got a juicy, juicy story for you, Mr. Detective. Grab a seat and sit down. I’m gonna spill my guts. Naw, I’m gonna spill my whole damn bowels. And by the time I’m through, this whole room’s gonna stink like the worst shit you ever smelled.”
There was yet more surprise in Bent’s contemptuous eyes. He knew that he was about to become the receiver of quite a tidbit.
Across the hallway from the Del Toray General emergency room was a small lounge. There were a couple of sofas in there, and a television attached to the wall. Ava sat in the lounge alone. Her arms were crossed over her lap. She looked down to the floor. Occasionally, she would look up and view the emergency room. All she saw was the metal double doors, which had small square pieces of Plexiglas in each door. Ava hoped that at any moment, a doctor would come through those doors and tell her that little Susy hadn’t made it. Right now, everything was up in the air. The kid was hanging tough. If Susy survived, the Trust Fund might would have to be used for her medical expenses. What a waste that would be, Ava thought.
Ava heard a loud, chilling noise come from the lounge next door. It was Henry again. He cried out in misery over the fate of his daughter. There were a couple of neighbors in there with him trying to comfort him. Ava had quietly walked out of there during his last scream, almost unnoticed. She had gotten tired of Henry’s whining. She had needed to get away from it, though she now realized she hadn’t gone far enough. She wondered how long she would have to put up with his crying. Days? Weeks? Probably months if the kid died.
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