Richards looks at us again, nodding his head. “He did, sir.”
“Are my sons in the kitchen?”
“Yes, sir, they are.”
I put my hands over my eyes as I hear Rachel weeping in the other room. Sounds like Mother, too. I remain glued to my spot on the kitchen’s floor. Feels like it's been days since I dropped here.
I sigh and look around. All the men are in the kitchen, Joshua and Matthew are still at my side.
“Marcus?”
I look toward the TV room.
“I need to ask you some more questions,” Richards says with Parker standing next to him.
“Go ahead.”
“We should go in the other room, with your family. They may be able to answer something that you can't.”
I sit, silently.
“Come on, son.”
My dad holds a hand out to me. I take it and get to my feet.
I look in my father's face, and see all the worry and concern, and I break down again. My father pulls me into his arms and they clamp around me while I cry silently on his shoulder. He wordlessly, patiently holds me until I calm.
“Let's go in the other room,” Dad says, his voice catching.
“All right,” I say, moving from his grasp. Russell hands me tissue and Tom gives me water. The other men leave the room as I begin to compose myself. My father and I walk out last, he clamps a hand on my shoulder.
I look around the room and everyone is in tears. Rachel, Mother and Lil are on the far sofa, holding hands. I sit between Rachel and Mother, and hold their hands as Richards and Parker sits across from us.
“Marcus, have you had any parties or functions here in the last, say ninety days?” Richards asks.
I pause. It's July eighth. We were supposed to be celebrating my birthday with everybody here, today. I watch Alissa shuffle into the room, Rosa right beside her.
“The twins’ birthday party, April 29th and Alissa's baby shower, June 23rd.”
“What company did you hire?”
“I don't know. The women handled both.”
“Perez's Parties & Supplies,” Lisa answers.
“Have you or your wife had any altercations with a neighbor or a patient... a colleague, maybe?”
“No, that’s not Mariah's nature. She gets along with everybody. I haven't argued with anyone, either.”
An investigator runs in the room. “Incoming!”
Richards and Parker jump up to leave the room.
“Freeze,” Matthew loudly snaps out. “This is my brother's wife. All information will be openly disclosed! Talk, Morrow!”
Richards and Parker look at each other, then to the investigator, who looks at Matthew. Daniels is just outside the room, holding a phone to his ear.
“The car that Mrs. Cannon was put in was stolen. Hodges and Hunt found it twelve blocks from here, near the hospital, wrecked. The driver slammed it into a tree. No one was inside, but...” Morrow hesitates.
“What,” Matthew barks.
“There was blood on the back seat and steering wheel,” Morrow sighs.
My fingers tighten and so does the mothers. There are gasps and moans all around the room.
“And,” Matthew snaps. Morrow shakes his head.
“Hunt,” Daniels yells. Hunt appears, dressed in tactical gear. With his back to us, Daniels says something quietly to her then she enters the room and sits in Parker's spot.
“Dr. Cannon, when my partner and I arrived at the car, we found blood on the backseat and the steering wheel. It's being tested anyway, but no doubt the blood on the steering wheel came from a kidnapper, who we know was driving. We also found skin cells under another broken nail. We believe Mrs. Cannon woke and fought the kidnappers again, causing the crash. The blood in the backseat was dragged, and no other fluids were detected by eye, but the backseat is also being analyzed.”
“Everything,” Matthew snarls when Hunt stops.
Hunt frowns but continues. “There was a disposable cell found just under the car, with blood on it, too. The good news is there were prints recovered but there was too much damage to retrieve any data. We believe the kidnappers destroyed it on purpose. The car was registered to a Harold Beaufort, an insurance salesman in Oakland. He reported the car stolen on July sixth. He's sixty-four years old, so he's ruled out but is still being surveyed.”
“How soon will the report on the blood be ready,” Matthew asks.
“I'd guess another hour or so,” Hunt says.
“Excuse me,” Ethan says. “Miss, you said 'kidnappers'; plural. How certain are you that there’s more than one? I’d like to estimate how much time I’m looking at for killing all responsible for this bullshit with my sister.”
Tom murmurs, “We’re looking at time. She’s my sister, too.”
“Quiet, both… all of you. Go on, Ms. Hunt,” Lil demands.
“We believe assailant one called an assailant two after the crash, sir. There was evidence of dragging and more skin cells on the street in a two-foot stretch. Mrs. Cannon’s other pink slipper was found inside the crashed car.”
Parker sits next to Hunt holding a piece of paper.
“Dr. Cannon, do you know a Ricardo Vincente Flores?”
I shake my head as Rachel's nails digs into my hand.
“Fuck,” Nathan shouts. “Not this fucker again!”
“Is that Vince,” I ask Rachel.
“Yes,” she moans.
“Vince,” Ethan asks. “Isn't that the asshole that beat Cookie years ago?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Son of a bitch. What is he doing out of jail already?”
Parker reads the paper in his hand. “Flores was released on good behavior in early April and was supposed to remain in the area. It's his prints on the cell phone. Dr. Cannon, is there any way possible Flores knows anyone in California?”
I shake my head, blowing out a breath. “I don't know.”
“Excuse me.”
I look up and see Alissa holding Rosa's hand. Rosa looks terrified.
“Vince was at the twins' party, working with Perez's. Rosa says he approached her and asked a lot of questions about Mariah and said that she sent him to fix some sticky locks on the kitchen and garage doors.”
I jump up. “Does she know for sure it was him?”
Alissa speaks silently to Rosa in Spanish, and Rosa replies.
“She says he gave the name Vince Flores and he was excited because he knew Mariah from Chicago.”
“Where else was he, aside from the kitchen and the garage,” Parker asks.
Alissa asks, then Rosa speaks.
“She says he was everywhere.”
“I didn't see him,” Rachel gasps.
“Neither did I,” came from Nathan.
“What about the birthday song,” I ask, grabbing the remote to the projector.
More Spanish.
“She remembers him standing behind Nathan,” Alissa says finally.
“What,” Lisa gasps. “That asshole got that close to my sister and my husband?”
“That's what Rosa says,” Alissa nods.
I press the button and everything powers up again. Thank God we were just watching it again Friday night, at the twins' insistence.
I forward the video and stop it when I came into view carrying the cake to the table.
Mariah was standing at the side, looking beautiful and glowing, barely showing. We had just announced she was pregnant again to delight of everyone, right before I went into the kitchen to get the cake.
I called to the twins and they ran up and hugged Mariah after they saw their cake. I lifted them both up in my arms, while Nathan held Lila to Mariah's right. Matthew and Ethan were on my left and Joshua was manning the camera. Lisa stepped into view with a camera and we all smiled and posed, while Alex and Donnie made goofy faces.
“Oh, good! I made it,” Tom said in the background. “What did I miss?”
Matthew smirked. “Cookie's pregnant.”
Everyone laughed.
Tom stepped into view. “Congratulations,” he exclaimed. Next, he kissed Mariah's cheek, shook my hand while patting my shoulder and ruffled the twins’ hair.
“Happy birthday, boys,” Tom smiled at them as several waiters walked to the tent, an obese one goes behind Nathan with a knife on a tray.
Rosa points, shouting in Spanish.
“¿dónde?” Alissa answers.
Rosa speaks again.
“She says it's the bearded, big man to the left of Nathan.”
I pause the video.
“That's not him,” Rachel says, shaking her head.
Nathan walks to the screen and points at the waiter's hand, where a tattoo is. “Yes, it is, Rachel. He's gained a shitload of weight. Look.”
I squint and walk up to it. “MNH. What the...?”
“Mariah's initials. Remember, Rachel? He did that around Christmas, as a gift to her.” Nathan says quietly.
Rachel solemnly nods. I scowl and start the video again.
Mariah lit the candles and started singing the birthday song and everyone joined in. The twins blew out the candles then argued over who blew out the most.
“Enough,” I said, stopping the argument cold. “Next time, you each will get your own cake and candles. No more of this.”
“I blame you two,” Mariah laughed, pointing to Tom and Ethan. “And you three, too.”
“What three, baby,” I asked, teasing her.
“Cramp, Toad and Twerp, that's who,” she grinned and everyone laughed. I put the boys down and grabbed her face and kissed her.
The boys whined at us. “Mommy! Dad! EWWWWW!” That got an even bigger laugh.
“I want one,” Lila wailed. I reached over and kissed her cheek.
“No, from Mommy,” she said, wiping off my kiss, making us laugh again.
Mariah took her from Nathan and Lila's little hands grabbed Mariah's face and she kissed her on the mouth.
“I love you, baby,” Lila said, sweetly.
Mariah's hand went to her chest and she blinked rapidly, fighting tears, then smiled.
“I love you, too, Angel,” she said quietly and kissed Lila again. “Wanna help your brothers cut the cake, Angel? Who has the knife?”
Vince walked between us and puts his tattooed hand under the tray, then leaned the tray toward Mariah, who picked up the knife from the tray, thanked him, and told Lila to put her hand on top of hers. Vince walked off, angry and shaking.
“She never looked up at him,” Richards observes.
“She wouldn’t,” I reply, quietly, staring at my beautiful wife’s happy face on the screen. “Nothing would turn her head at a moment like that.”
“Because nothing is more important to Cookie than her children,” Tom nods.
We’re quiet, silently agreeing.
“I need a copy of that video, Dr. Cannon,” Parker says.
“This is a copy. Take it,” I say, pushing eject on the machine.
“Go through the video and get a better shot of that fucker's face so we can get pictures out fast,” Parker orders Morrow.
June 26, 2011
“Dr. Alexander,” I snapped into the phone, hating I was on-call. Damn it. I was just on my way to the Harveys so I can finally talk to Mariah. Seeing her with that asshole the previous night messed my head up. I wanted to rip his fucking head off.
This jealousy shit takes a lot to get used to.
“Doctor, we have a twelve-year-old female, febrile and complaining of pain at McBurney's point.”
A possible hot appendix. Good thing I was already at the hospital on evening rounds. “How long has she had the pain,” I asked getting off the elevator.
“Mother states she told her thirty to forty-five minutes ago; beyond that it's unclear.”
I looked around the ER. “Which bed is she in?”
“Twelve, Doctor.”
“Right.” I ended the call, shrugged out of my jacket and washed my hands. Moving the curtain with my elbow, I calmly addressed the parents.
“I'm Dr. Alexander, pediatrician on call,” I said as a nurse assisted me in getting gowned and gloved. I walk around the bed and squatted to look the girl in her face. She was lying on her left side, in a fetal position.
I smiled at her. “Hello, sweetheart. What's your name?”
“Kimmy Grier,” she whimpered.
“Kimmy, I'm Dr. Alexander. I hear you're having some pain in your belly. Can you point to where?”
She pointed near her navel. “Here. I feel funny in my tummy. I need to throw up but I can't.”
“It’s all right, Kimmy. Miss Wheeler, can we get an emesis basin, just in case? Kimmy, can you lie on your back for me, so I can feel around your belly?”
“Are you gonna hurt me more,” Kimmy whimpered, her brown eyes big with fear.
I smiled again. “I'm going to try very hard not to, okay?”
She looked at me a moment. “Okay,” she whimpered again, as she slowly rolled from her side to her back.
“Show me again where the pain is, Kimmy. Here?” I felt around; she wailed. I quickly removed my hands. “How long have you been in pain, sweetheart?”
“It started after church,” Kimmy cried, rolling back to her side.
“That was noon,” the mother groaned.
I glanced at my watch. It was after six. Shit. I turned to the nurse.
“Let's get a stat ultrasound, CBC, and a wheelchair. Mom, I need you to help Kimmy to collect some urine, please.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Grier said going to Kimmy's bed.
I went to the ER desk. “Miss Wheeler, who's the surgeon on call?”
“Morrison and Burns. Should I page one?”
“Page Burns; let him know I've got an emergency appendectomy on a twelve-year-old female, please.”
“Right away, Doctor.”
* * *
It was 9:01 when we finally got out of surgery. They've had dinner already. Fuck, I hope she's still there.
“Ira, can you talk to the parents? I need to shower and get out of here.”
“Sure. Hot date, Marcus?”
“I'm hoping,” I smiled. “I'll see you at rounds in the morning.”
June 26, 2011 – 9:43 p.m.
I heard Mariah and Lisa's voices in the foyer as I approached the screen door and stilled as I listened.
“Twink, come on! We were just talking.”
“What was that flirty laugh, then,” Lisa asked.
“It wasn't flirty. It was nothing; he said something funny. What is the big deal?”
“It's not right for you to flirt with him, that's all. You don't know him,” Lisa mumbled.
Who is 'him'? Fuck, not another one!
“Is he married,” Mariah asked in a panic.
Morals. I liked that. A lot.
“No.”
“Engaged?”
“Not that I'm aware of.”
“Is he seeing someone?”
“I don't know,” Lisa shouted.
“Then what is the problem, Twink,” Mariah asked, calming.
“I just don't think he's right for you. There’s someone else out there for you.”
Damn right there was.
“Is that right,” Mariah cooed.
“Cookie, come on. He's dangerous. Yes, he has talent in an operating room, but he has a reputation with women and I think you should stay away. He is a total player and he takes no mercy. Once he gets what he wants, he's gone. I just don't want you to get hurt.”
Anger ripped through me as I opened the door. “You must be talking about William Wexler,” I snapped out at them.
Lisa turned to me. Finally, Mariah turned, too, and she appeared flustered as she looked me up and down. The look on her face, the smolder of her eyes when she checks me out… Fuck!
I was fucking angry and turned on at the same fucking time!
“Is it Wexler,” I
demanded.
“Yes, Dr. Alexander. He's been flirting with her most of the night.”
Good, Lisa’s keeping up the pretense. The day before, she was calling me ‘Marcus,’ plotting with me on how to get Mariah’s attention after I texted and met up with her in a coffee shop near her apartment. When I got a good look at her, I finally remembered where I’d seen her.
It was at Joshua’s introductory dinner; Matthew’s date. I never got to meet her officially, since I had an emergency at the hospital and had to leave seconds before we could be introduced. She definitely knew who I was the day she was introduced to me by Thomas with Mariah and called me on the use of my last name after we ordered. I told her it was a professional choice and she agreed to leave it alone.
But that Wexler… fucking bastard knocked up my supposed fiancée and now he thinks he's getting the woman I love, too?
I fixed my gaze on Mariah. “I see. I'd like a moment with your sister, Lisa.”
I saw Lisa walk away from the corner of my eye as Mariah smirked. She looked to where Lisa stood and gave her a look that screamed ‘traitor’ in any language.
Her hand went straight to her neck. Damn it, she’s nervous. That's the last thing I wanted her to be around me. Still, I stepped closer and glared at her.
“What are you doing with Wexler?”
“I beg your pardon,” she replied, like she’d suddenly gone deaf.
My jaw clenched. “What... are you doing... with Wexler?”
Mariah tilted her chin up. “We were talking about common interests. Why?”
“Stay away from him.”
She lowered her head and I immediately missed her face. “Why,” she cooed.
I looked her up and down and think she looks so fucking good in purple. I felt an erection starting. I brought my gaze up; her nipples had tightened. Shit! She's turned on, too. Realizing thagt, I got harder then she crossed her arms over her breasts.
“Don't,” I said hurriedly, my voice thick with passion.
“Why, Dr. Alexander,” Mariah gasped at me, and I immediately lost the hard-on when I heard her using my professional name.
“Do away with that 'Dr. Alexander' bullshit. My name is Marcus.”
“Answer my question, Dr. Alexander.”
Shit! This was not going well at all. She had to be falling for him. I vowed to fix that.
Marcus: The M Series, Book Three Page 5