Unforgettable Heroes Boxed Set

by James, Maddie

  We played with a nylon recreation parachute in the north corner of the parking lot. A souped up F150 truck entered the campus and parked. Darvey stepped out in jeans and a knit shirt. One of the older girls let out an appreciative whistle. Or it could have been Lola. I considered the compliment and agreed. The policeman did look pretty good out of uniform. As he approached, I detected cologne. I took a good whiff. Nice.

  I introduced him, and the interest turned to suspicion. Twenty pairs of eyes sized Officer Weilchek up and down. He ceased to be a handsome young guy in tight jeans and transformed into a trespassing bully with the law on his side. I placed my hand on Darvey’s arm, and smiled genially at the children.

  “Mr. Weilchek is helping me find Eli.”

  The suspicion faded from some of the expressions. Lola tutted. She had been in on my ‘intervention’ in which several of the staff had sat me down in Mr. Harvey’s office and told me I needed to forget about Eli.

  “He’s just a homeless guy, Abigail. He probably moved on when the police were combing the neighborhoods after the fire.”

  “He is not just a homeless guy,” I defended. “If it hadn’t been for him, we’d be going to funerals of three little girls.”

  “You’re probably right about that.” Mr. Harvey leaned back in his chair. “However, if he wanted to be found, he would have shown up by now.”

  “Unless he’s dead,” Paula supplied.

  I ignored the lump in my throat. “If he’s dead, he deserves better than rotting in an abandoned house somewhere.”

  To my relief, they agreed with me. But I knew they had a point. I had been obsessing about this. Maybe it was time to let it go. But why waste the opportunity Darvey had presented me with?

  Darvey and I went to the men’s shelter and talked to several of the regulars. I was impressed with his efficiency and professionalism. He was to the point, and treated each man with respect. Unfortunately, no one had seen Eli after the fire. We went to several empty houses in the neighborhood, including the one where Eli and I had shared the pantry. We found nothing.

  “How can he just disappear like that?”

  Darvey’s kind eyes met mine and held. “Easy to do when you’re homeless. You have no ties keeping you anywhere.”

  I guessed so. I thought Eli and I had reached a point where he might have come to me if he needed something. How could he have gotten out of the building unharmed and without being seen?

  “Come on.” Darvey clasped my hand and pulled me toward the door. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

  I resisted and took my hand back. “Is this a date?”

  “It will be officially if you let me buy you dinner.”

  “I thought you were helping me, you know, as a policeman.”

  “I am helping you, but I’m off the clock. See? No uniform. And I think you’re very pretty, even if you are in love with some homeless guy.”

  Well, how do you like that. Officier Weilchek had laid his proverbial cards on the table. I walked ahead of him and opened the door of the house to enter the late afternoon sunlit yard and climbed onto the seat of his truck.

  “Would it help if I wore a candy necklace or something?”

  Huh? I turned to Darvey and found him grinning at me.

  “Stuck some candy kisses in my pocket? Was it the candy smell that attracted you, or do you just like hopeless cases?”

  “Hopeless cases, I think. My last boyfriend was a druggie and a thief.”

  “Unlucky in love, huh?”

  “Stupid in love is more like it.”

  “So what about dinner? Want to see how stupid you can get with me?”

  I chuckled. “I’ll agree to dinner, but I’m trying to give up stupidity.”

  As we headed toward the bridge, I saw a familiar figure meandering on the sidewalk with two guys I didn’t recognize. Darvey noticed as I turned to look behind me.

  “Who’s that?”

  “One guy’s named Ford. I saw him the night of the fire just before the talent show started.”

  “What was he doing?”

  “Oh, just hanging out, but I’m pretty sure he’s in the Nights. They wear that chain with the red symbol on it. I told him he needed to either leave or come inside with me.”

  “You’re a brave chick, you know that?”

  I watched my hands twist in my lap. “Eli thought I took unnecessary risks.”

  “Did you?”

  I looked out the window and saw nothing but regret.

  “He followed me in the building. I was going after some girls I had seen run in the hall. He saw me and came after me.”

  “It was his decision.”

  “He wouldn’t have made it if he hadn’t seen me.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  But I did know it.

  We ended up at Marcelli’s, a trendy Italian restaurant complete with the red table cloths and the woven wine bottle candle holders. Darvey was charming, but I could tell stupidity wasn’t going to be an issue. Not enough chemistry. I hated that because he was a decent guy. After dinner, he drove me back to the center to retrieve my car, then insisted on following me home. To my surprise, he didn’t come inside my apartment, though he did walk me to the porch. When I turned the key and opened the door, he wished me a good night, walked to the curb, and waited until I closed the door.

  I turned the lock and shortly thereafter heard his truck start and drive away.

  ****

  As the weeks stretched on and the community center began to take shape again, I all but lost hope that Eli was alive. I had taken his story of heroism to the local TV stations and newspapers hoping someone who saw the stories would bring new information about Eli. Darvey was great about this, even appearing with me on the six o’clock news. The next day he called and asked if we could have dinner. He and I had gone out a few times, but we were keeping things friendly and nonsexual which suited me well enough.

  I think he had been right that I had fallen a little in love with Eli and was heartbroken for his life and likely death. I ignored what could have been because I had done all I could to help Eli. It was true that he had followed me into the building, but if he hadn’t I probably would have died and so would the girls. Maybe my life wasn’t worth his death, but the girls’ lives were. I knew it. I think he would have agreed with me.

  Darvey and I ended up at a sports bar with mugs of beer and hot wings. Some ballgame was on, so he had one eye on a nearby TV as he sucked hot sauce from his fingers.

  “So, I got called into the captain’s office today. He told me to cool it with the missing person’s case on Eli.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t know. You sure he was just some homeless guy?”

  “Yes. You think he was something else?”

  “There’s a rumor that the ATF has been sniffing around, but I haven’t been able to find out why. We’ve been getting complaints about wrongful arrests and the thing is, we didn’t have enough evidence to hold anybody. We had two guys we released, but later wanted to question again, and we can’t find them.”

  “Maybe Eli is with them.”

  “They’re Nights. It doesn’t fit their M.O.”

  “Their what?”

  “Modus Operandi. It means how the Nights act—their habits. They wouldn’t have had a homeless guy in their gang. And if he was in his thirties, he’d have been way too old for them to recruit anyway.”

  I took a long swig of beer. He was talking about Eli in the past tense. And there was my suspicion that Eli had drug dealings with the gang.

  “What?”

  I met Darvey’s all too perceptive eyes.

  “You know something,” he informed me.

  “Could he have been selling drugs to the Nights? Or buying from them?”

  “Why do you think so?”

  “I saw him after being at the shelter one evening. He got into a Night’s car.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I shrugged. “I was with Kaylon
who works with me at the shelter. He recognized the car and told me it belonged to the Nights.”

  “Huh.” Darvey squinted his eyes and drummed his fingers on the table. I could tell he was trying to figure out what Eli’s link was to the Nights.

  “Kaylon said the only business Eli might have with them was drugs.”

  Darvey leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “It is possible, isn’t it, that Eli could have been an accomplice in the fire?”

  “No.”

  He leaned back, his expression grim.

  “He cared about those kids. I know he did. He wouldn’t. No.”

  Now I was talking in past tense.

  Darvey sighed. He didn’t believe me anyway.

  “If he chained the doors and started the fire, why would he ram the doors open and come inside to rescue people?”

  “Maybe he wanted to be a hero.”

  “But he didn’t stick around to be praised.”

  “Maybe he meant to, but he….”

  Darvey didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t have to. He thought Eli was dead.

  “Then where’s the body? If he was still in the building, they would have found him by now. I’ve checked all the John Does at the morgue. Eli isn’t there. Where is the body?”

  “We are mystified. We suspect foul play.”

  My jaw dropped. Mr. Beer-Ball-And-Wings-Cop had just sung a line from Phantom of the Opera. The chagrined look on his face told me he knew I knew.

  “I played Andre when I was in college. Don’t tell anybody, all right?”

  Okay. I perked up like a dog who had just spotted a tasty bone. Maybe there was some chemistry here now that I knew Darvey could sing Phantom.

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning I looked in the phone book for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives and called the listing in Clavania, but there was only a recording. The address was two blocks from work, so I decided to pay a visit during my lunch break. As I approached the building, a man in sunglasses and a gray suit came from around the corner and walked toward me. We met at the door which he held open. I thanked him as I walked into a small, bland room with two chairs pushed against the beige wall. The man stepped inside, but didn’t move from the door and didn’t take off his glasses. Just above his eyebrow was a recent scar about an inch long and pink against his darker skin. I shivered.

  Was he an agent? Supervisor? Did he have a gun? “Do you work here?”

  “Yes.”

  “I need to speak to someone about a person of interest.”

  For a few seconds he didn’t move. He reminded me of that movie Men in Black. I waited for him to pull out a little gadget, flash it at me, and make me lose my memory, but nothing happened. At least, I didn’t remember anything happening—ha, ha. On the verge of getting nervous because this Man in Black—who was actually in gray—was blocking the exit and looking all official, I turned away from him and inspected the blank wall. What? Didn’t the ATF have money in their budget for a picture or two? Geez.

  He moved from the door and brushed past me to another door. “This way.”

  I obeyed his abrupt command, not missing the broadness of his shoulders, the lines of this well-proportioned man in a well cut suit. He had an aura about him. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but he seemed…okay. Maybe it was because he had held the door for me. Not a lot of chivalry these days, so when it happens I notice. I was looking forward to meeting him and asking him about Eli. He opened another door and gestured for me to go in. To my surprise, he didn’t come in the room, just closed the door leaving me alone.

  Obviously, this was an interrogation room with its requisite table, two chairs, and two way mirror. Same beige walls and no pictures. Not even a magazine to look at. I paced the room for a few minutes, and had my hand on the doorknob ready to leave when it turned. I stepped back missing getting hit by the door by an inch.

  A smartly dressed woman in her fifties entered the room.

  “You are?”

  “Abigail Benton.”

  “I’m Special Agent Madeline Daughton. Sit down.”

  Okay, then. I was pretty sure Special Agent Madeline Daughton could put a sleeper hold on me even though she was old enough to be my mom. I sat down, and she sat down across from me folding her hands on the table.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “I thought that other guy was going to talk to me.”

  “No. Do you have some information for the ATF?”

  “Actually, I was hoping you could give me some information. I’m trying to track down a homeless person who disappeared in the fire at the community center in Clavania.”

  “Why would we know anything about that?”

  “I’ve heard you, that is the ATF, is involved.”

  Special Agent Madeline Daughton tapped her index finger on the table several times otherwise she was motionless.

  “Who told you that?”

  As if I would reveal my source. I shrugged my shoulders. “Just whispers around the neighborhood.”

  “Ms. Benton, The ATF isn’t int…” The woman paused and sat back. She cut her eyes to the mirror and back at me. “Who told you we were involved?”

  “So, you are involved?”

  The corner of her mouth curled up in an Elvis sneer. “Where were you when the fire at the center started?”

  “I was in the building trapped with about two hundred other people. Do you know anything about this guy? His name is Eli. He’s got dark hair and a full beard.”

  Special Agent Daughton stood up keeping eye contact with me. “Your efforts to find this man are inhibiting any ongoing investigation and most likely putting lives at risk. Unless you want to find yourself an accessory, I suggest you quit playing Nancy Drew.”

  “I have to find him.”

  “You won’t find him. He’s gone.”

  “What do you mean gone?”

  “The homeless man you knew as Eli was brought in as a John Doe at a hospital and didn’t make it out. I want your assurance that you will drop this quest you have to find him so that the investigators can find out who did set that fire. Eli is dead.” She emphasized the last three words with jabs on the table with her finger.

  I blinked back tears. “Where is he? Where’s his body?”

  She snorted. “He was homeless. He’s probably a cadaver at the U. of A. by now.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Go home, Ms. Benton, and stop interfering with police business.”

  So that was it—the end of my quest to find Eli. After crying to Mr. Harvey about it, I asked if we could do something in Eli’s memory since he had saved all our lives that night. Even though the city officials didn’t want to acknowledge Eli’s sacrifice, we at the center felt it was the right thing to do. On a cool afternoon in May we attached a tasteful plaque with a broom etched in it on the new door of the community center the day it was dedicated.

  ****

  I was in the courthouse again. I sat in the massive lobby staring at the marble floors and wishing I had brought a book to read. Boy, things sure weren’t like they were on T.V. I’d seen enough Law and Order reruns to stupidly think the witnesses got to hear all the interesting things going on in the courtroom. Wrong. Witnesses aren’t allowed in until after our testimony.

  I sat on the hard bench and waited with Paula. I watched people come and go. One particular guy caught my eye. Dressed in a suit, he walked up the four stairs to where I sat.

  Blue eyes caught mine and held me. Something about them…I paused. No. He hesitated, slowed, but continued walking to the closed door. I fell back against the wall as if someone had punched me. Oh…it couldn’t be....I gasped.

  Those eyes. Eli’s eyes stared at me from the stranger’s face. His dark hair was cut short, short enough that it stood up at the top. The man was clean shaven, a strong chin, and full lips. Oh, yes. The lips I recognized because they hadn’t been hidden by the mustache and beard. The chin though, I had never
seen before.

  This stranger with some of Eli’s features wore a brown suit complete with red tie. The overall picture shouted professional. There’s no way he could be Eli. Eli was homeless. He had no higher aspirations than sweeping leaves and trash back and forth outside of the community center in Clavania. Who was this guy? He had to be related. Maybe he was a brother who had come to the trial to try to find Eli. My feet propelled me forward, to the courtroom, to him.

  “Abigail?” Paula called to me. “You’re not allowed to go in there.”

  I knew I wasn’t allowed, but I didn’t care. I opened the door and peeked in. Scanning the crowd, I spotted him. He sat with two other men in suits. The Eli look-a-like sat near the middle of the long wooden seat in the very back of the courtroom. I excused my way in front of two people sitting on the end and side stepped toward him. What would I say? I had to step over the big Oxfords of the two men, then in front of him. Another pair of shoes. I inched my way past, then sat down on the space next to him. Blood rushed in my ears. My face heated. I clenched my shaking hands in my pockets.

  Clearing my constricted throat, I glanced over at him. Well, it started as a glance. Then it turned into a stare. His tanned skin at his throat contrasted to the jacket. His strong jaw was smooth, as if he had just shaved. I judged him to be a few years older than I was. The hair color was the same as Eli’s. I leaned toward him and inhaled trying to detect caramel, burnt or otherwise. No sweet aroma. There was, however, tanginess—a citrus scent. As I sniffed, I saw him stiffen, and a muscle twitched at his jaw. Oh, darn it. Now with all my smelling, I had made him uncomfortable.

  I scooted away, giving him his space back. “I’m Abigail Benton.”

  He leaned back, his eyes met mine. “Hello. Scott McIntyre.”

  Oh.

  He wasn’t Eli. My throat constricted again. I knew it was stupid and crazy, but I wanted him to be Eli. His eyes were so much like Eli’s. My own eyes teared up. I didn’t want to cry. A tear spilled over and ran down my cheek. I brushed it away, but not before he noticed. His face, which had held a casual, but friendly, expression became shuttered.