by Hill, Brenda
If Karr had truly left the city, she could tell what she knew and wouldn’t have to worry. But no one knew for sure. He could be lurking nearby, just waiting for a chance to...? A chance to do what?
No matter how she tried not to think of it, the picture of Karr accosting another woman, punching and kicking her into submission kept intruding on her thoughts. As a human being, could she allow it to happen to someone else?
Getting up, she searched the bedside table for the business card Sergeant Sanders had left, and made a decision. She would talk to him if he could promise police protection for Ritchie and her. She had learned that much from TV shows.
First, she called Diana.
“I can’t explain right now, but please, just do as I ask. Keep Ritchie inside. Do not, under any circumstances, take him out of the house. And make sure the windows and doors are kept locked.”
Although Diana sounded bewildered, she agreed.
Then she called the number on the card. Reese was out right now, but the duty officer took the message that she wanted to see him right away.
Tracy sat back, rehearsing what she’d tell him. But she would tell him nothing until after he had guaranteed Ritchie would be safe.
From the end of the corridor, she heard the rattle of the cart carrying the lunch trays, and she realized how empty she felt. Maybe something to eat would help.
A teenage volunteer came into her room carrying an envelope.
“Mrs. Michaels? This came for you this morning.” She smiled and left.
Tracy looked at the envelope. It felt like a card and she wondered who had sent it. No return address. It opened to a plain white card with a message printed on the front.
“Just to let you know I’m thinking of you.” Tracy smiled. It couldn’t have come at a better time.
The inside was blank, no verse, no signature, but a folded piece of paper fell out. Puzzled, she picked it up and read the typed message:
Now Tracy is a broad
who likes the rod
shoved up her cunt so far -
With a quick intake of breath, she dropped the note as if it had burned her. Karr! It had to be. He hadn’t gone, he was still out there!
Feeling sick and not even wanting to touch the paper, she picked it up with the tip of her fingers and started to tear it up. She hesitated. Maybe there was something in it, something she should know.
She forced herself to read:
Now Tracy is a broad -
who likes the rod
shoved up her cunt so far,
But then she hollers
And me she collars
My life she’s trying to mar.
So now her little boy
Who she says is a joy
I can make disappear in a flash,
Maybe now you’ll think
Before you fink
It’s his life I can trash.
But if to me you are true
Even though we did screw
I just might spare the little son of a slut.
Although I say die,
You might say, Oh my,
AND KEEP YOUR BIG MOUTH SHUT!
“DO YOU KNOW WHERE YOUR KID IS TODAY?”
Tracy barely made it to the bathroom before she threw up. Sinking to her knees in front of the stool, she retched until there was nothing left but dry heaves. Lowering the lid, she rested her burning cheek on the cool porcelain.
She had to get Ritchie. Her legs trembled and she felt weak, but she quickly rinsed her mouth, wiped her face and went back into her room. What if Karr had already taken him?
No, she would have heard.
Maybe Karr was on his way now. Her hands were shaking so much she kept missing the buttons on the phone. Finally it went through.
“Honey? What’s the matter?” Diana said when she heard Tracy’s voice.
“Is Ritchie with you?” Tracy tried to keep her voice calm. No one must think she was being hysterical or they would want to know why.
“Yes, honey, he’s okay. He’s right here with us. What’s wrong?”
“I’m coming to get him,” Tracy told her, “so please have him ready. Pack some things he’ll need for a few days. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“But Tracy—”
“Please, do this for me. Please. I’ll explain when I get there.”
She saw the note on the floor. She could barely force herself to touch it, but she had to make sure she didn’t miss anything. After scanning the page, she tore it from end to end and threw it into the trash.
She could no longer stay in the hospital. Just by being there, she was putting Ritchie’s and her life at risk. She had to leave, but she didn’t want to answer questions from the hospital personnel or from Reese.
She glanced down at her slippers and her hospital gown. How was she going to get out dressed like this?
She stood thinking, and an idea took form.
***
The duty officer found Reese in the squad room and hurried over to him.
Reese was exhausted. He hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours.
Sitting with his collar button open, his legs propped on his desk, he sipped his coffee and barely raised an eyebrow when the young officer hurried to his side.
“This came in for you, Sir,” the officer said, coughing nervously. “Sorry I didn’t get it to you right away, but, uh, we’ve been swamped.”
“That’s okay, kid,” Reese said, taking the pink message slip. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve all been busy.”
Reese scanned the note, then nearly overturned the chair in his haste to stand. “Shit! How long ago did this come in?”
The officer, his face turning pale, stammered, “Uh, sir, I think about an hour, possibly two hours ago.”
“Christ Almighty!” Reese roared as he bolted out of the room. “I hope to hell it’s not too late.”
***
Tracy crept to the door of her room. If she remembered correctly from when Suzy had brought lunch, the nurse’s lounge should be around the corner, just past the nurse’s station to her right. It seemed a hundred years ago that she had laughed and relaxed with Suzy. How could she have known then that her ordeal was just beginning, that the worse might be yet to come. Ritchie was in danger and she had to get to him. She couldn’t afford the wasted time if she were stopped.
One nurse was writing something on a chart, while another sat in front of the computer. Two aides were talking to people standing at the desk. Good. Maybe they were too busy to notice her.
Keeping to the side of the corridor next to the rooms, she casually strolled past the station. Her back prickled and her face felt hot. Would they see her and wonder what she was doing? Would they come after her?
She wanted to look back, but she kept on walking as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Another twenty feet ahead was the hall curve and she would be out of sight. Every instinct screamed to run, but she kept her pace steady, as if she were merely walking for exercise.
If they stopped her, that’s what she’d say. She was just walking to increase her strength. She risked a look behind her—no one was running to catch up. Her legs almost buckled in relief, but she forced herself to keep going for the next step in her plan.
The nurse’s lounge was deserted. Lockers lined the further wall. The first door she tried was unlocked. Inside she found extra uniforms and a pair of tennis shoes. Even though they were too large, she quickly donned them and dumped her gown into the trash.
At the door she checked the corridors, then headed away from the nurse’s station, toward the elevator bank.
She got off at the lobby. In the front of the hospital, she nodded to one of the cabs parked along the street and stepped in without a backward glance.
***
Reese got off the elevator on the seventh floor and took the hall at a sprint. Nodding to the nurses at the station, he turned into Tracy’s room. She wasn’t there. Perhaps she was in the bathroom; he crossed to the closed doo
r and stood listening. Nothing. He opened it. She wasn’t there either. He began to get a familiar sick feeling. Maybe she had stepped out for a moment, or maybe Suzy had taken her down the hall or to the cafeteria.
He checked with the nurse’s station and found out Tracy had been in her room this morning, but no one had seen her in the past two hours. With mounting anxiety, he asked about Suzy. She hadn’t been seen in the hospital today. How about Sharon? A nurse picked up the phone to make some calls.
Back in Tracy’s room, Reese started searching. For what, he didn’t know. But Tracy had left the hospital. He was sure of it. Cursing under his breath, he went back into the room and sat down heavily on the bed.
Something spooked her and she ran.
He took a cigarette out of his shirt pocket and searched his pants for the lighter, kicking the waste paper basket shoved against the bed. He had seen it earlier and had given it a perfunctory glance, but now he noticed a torn piece of paper stuck on the plastic liner. He bent down, pulled out a tissue, and saw more torn paper. He took the basket to the middle of the floor and turned it over, spilling out several pieces of paper.
Cigarette forgotten, he sat down on the floor and picked up a few pieces at random.
“—ttle boy,” was typed on a small section, and checking through the others, he found, “disappear”, “cunt,” and “shut.” Carefully gathering all the pieces, he headed for the nurse’s station for some tape and an envelope.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Tracy sat at Diana’s kitchen table holding Ritchie on her lap. After hugging him once more, she put him down to play with Joey, Diana’s four-year old son, who was stacking building blocks and knocking them back down. Ritchie picked one up and tried to stuff it into his mouth. Tracy took it and put it on the floor.
“But where are you going?” Diana asked.
“I don’t know, just away from here. The man who attacked me knows where I live.”
“Stay with us.”
Tracy shook her head. “Thanks, but I can’t. I’m sure he probably knows about you, too.”
“But you can’t just go, out there...” Diana gestured wildly. “You don’t have any money and you’re not well. You’re in no condition to take care of a baby. You shouldn’t even be out of the hospital.”
Tracy gripped her glass of soda. “I don’t have a choice.”
“But why? What is he after?” Diana asked. “It’s almost as if he knew you and had something against you.”
Tracy flushed.
Diana leaned over to pat Tracy’s hand. “Well, whatever reason his insane mind has, I just thank God he didn’t kill you. We’ll figure out something.”
Tracy sighed loudly, and rested her head on the table.
“You must be exhausted,” Diana said. “Before you do anything, just get some rest, at least the rest of today and tonight. That’ll give us both a chance to think. I’ll put you in Judy’s room. It’s okay, she won’t mind. That way, you’ll be down here with us. And safe.”
Tracy closed her eyes. Would she ever again feel safe? She was exhausted and could barely stand, much less take Ritchie and go anywhere. Maybe, after some rest, she would feel stronger. Just one good night’s sleep.
“Okay,” she finally said. “Just for tonight.”
“Good.” Diana patted her hand. “And honey, think about staying with us for awhile. Your things are just upstairs, and since you can’t go to work, you could watch Joey for me. Judy’s been great, but she’s getting older and needs a social life. I can’t keep asking her to watch a four-year-old. It could work out. It would give you a little money. You could call that detective, uh...”
“Sanders. Sergeant Sanders.”
“Yes, that’s him,” Diana said. “Call Sergeant Sanders and ask about protection for you and Ritchie. I’m sure he can arrange something.”
“The thing is, I was going to do that until that, that note came. Now, I can’t.” Tracy closed her eyes again. She wished she could just tell him everything and let him take care of it. It would be so wonderful, not having to be afraid anymore, not having to run. God, how did she ever get into this mess?
***
Reese scanned the taped sheet of paper. Jesus, what a sick fuck. He could imagine Tracy’s horror as she read that. No wonder she ran.
It all fell into place. Her son was the reason she had lied. And the perp had to be Karlton Wolfe; he would’ve had the opportunity to discover her love for her son. The perfect leverage.
Now he had to convince her to help him get the sick sonofabitch off the street.
He felt sure he knew where she’d gone. He pulled out his notebook, looked up the number and called Tracy’s home. No answer. Next, he called Mrs. Golden.
“Yes, Sergeant, I remember you.”
“Tracy has left the hospital,” Reese said, “and I’m trying to reach her. Is she there?”
“What makes you think she’s here?”
“Mrs. Golden, Diana, we both know that’s the first place she’d go. Let me speak to her. It’s important.” There was only silence. “Look. I can have a patrol car there in less than five minutes. I don’t think any of us wants that.”
He heard whispering. Come on, Tracy.
“I’m sorry you made the trip to the hospital for nothing,” Tracy said without preliminary. “But the fact is,” she continued, her voice soft, yet determined, “I can’t talk to you now.”
“Tracy!” Reese shouted over the phone.
After an eternity, he heard, “Yes?”
“Listen, Tracy, I saw the note. I understand why you left. But what are you going to do now? You can’t run forever.”
Tracy said nothing.
“At least give me a positive identification. Is it Karlton Wolfe? Talk to me, dammit! Let me help you.”
“I can’t! Don’t you think I want to? He knows everything I do. I don’t know how he knows, but he does! He knows who I talk to. He knew you were at the hospital. Don’t you understand? I can’t talk to you. He’ll kill my son if I do!”
“Tracy, listen, I can offer protection. You don’t have to be afraid.”
“What kind of protection? Can you watch us every minute?”
“I can put you in a safe place that no one knows about. And you’d be guarded by armed policemen.”
“For how long?” There was interest in her voice now, interest with perhaps a little hope.
“As long as it takes. To pick him up, and until he goes to trial. You’ll be safe.”
“But what if, for some reason, he gets off? What then? What happens to my son then? Can you still protect us?”
Reese let out a long sigh. He knew what was coming. He didn’t want to answer, but she deserved the truth.
“I’m afraid there aren’t enough funds to offer protection after the trial,” he admitted.
“I’m sorry, Sergeant Sanders, that’s not good enough. He’d know, and he’d come after us. I can’t take that risk. My son’s life is at stake.”
“Please let me help you—”
“I can’t...I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
All of Reese’s experience urged him to rush to the Golden home and demand that Tracy make a positive identification. But he heard the exhaustion in her voice and understood how desperate she must feel. He could give her today.
Meanwhile, he would talk to Cindy Harris.
***
Cindy didn’t want to let him in. She stood at the door in a long cotton robe buttoned up to her throat. The swelling in her face had receded and the bruises were a greenish-yellow. Even so, she was lovely. Only her eyes looked old.
“Please, detective—”
“Sergeant Sanders. But call me Reese.” He walked through the door, forcing her to step back.
“Can’t you just leave me alone? I’ve been all through it with that other... detective.” She began to cry. Reese looked away.
Her duplex apartment in the old bungalow home was sparsely furnished, but the hardwood floors, dotted wit
h red and gold throw pillows, had a shine and the cracks in the plastered walls were camouflaged with prints of the Rocky Mountains. Ivy plants trailing from macramé hangers filled up the empty spaces. Reese sat on a wicker chair opposite a frayed loveseat. An open suitcase lay on the floor.
“Detective Cooper is a good cop. She’s doing her job.” Reese found himself defending her again to a civilian and he didn’t like it. “Look. Won’t you please sit down? I want to show you some photographs.”
“If it’s the guy you think attacked me, it won’t do any good. I’ve told you people over and over I didn’t see him. It was too dark.” She sank onto the loveseat.
“Just try.” Reese held photographs of five different men, mostly cops in the division, plus one of Wolfe. She didn’t take them and the moment stretched into an awkward silence. Still, he held them out to her, gambling on her sense of courtesy. Finally she took them and he breathed a sigh of relief. She shuffled through, giving no indication she recognized anyone.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t see—” She froze at one.
She recognized him, Reese saw in an instant. Years of training kept him from grabbing and hugging her.
Cindy quickly reshuffled.
“Who?” Reese asked.
“I told you, he wore a mask.” She passed them back to him, not meeting his gaze.
“Is it Karlton Wolfe?”
Head down, she said nothing.
“Look. I can’t begin to tell you how to live your life. I’m having enough trouble with my own.” Reese tried not to let the desperation creep into his voice. “But if you let him get away with it, he’s free to hurt someone else. The next time he might even kill them. Can you live with that?”
“Oh, God…” Her eyes brimmed with tears.
“You can’t let this happen. Help me, Cindy, help me get him off the streets.”
“I can’t. Please, don’t you understand? I can’t.”
“If you need protection, I can arrange—”