by L. T. Ryan
I reached inside my desk drawer for my keys. They were on top of the folder containing Dusty Anne Miller’s pictures from the crime scene. It seemed like years since that happened. I remembered that the autopsy was to take place in a few hours. Perhaps I’d attend.
As I started toward the door, Sam said, “Where you going?”
“To the hospital to check on Lana. Then probably to my mother’s to see how Ella’s doing. I’ll get in touch with you at some point.”
I expected him to try to tag along. He didn’t. “Okay.”
I exited the room near Huff’s office. I stopped in front of the window and stared at him for a moment. He glanced over at me, then looked away.
Chicken.
I’d almost made it through the building to the exit when I saw Fairchild approaching. He had a smug look on his face. Not unusual for the guy. But this time there was something more behind it. He had advanced knowledge of what went down. He got within a few feet of me and said, “Say hello to that girlfriend of yours for me, Tanner.”
The look on his face and the sound of his voice and the words that he used caused me to snap. I reached over, grabbed him by the shirt and nailed him with a right cross.
Chapter 28
Fairchild fell to the floor, landing on his right side. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. A few drops splattered on the floor, creating a tiny dark red pond. He scooted back to the wall. The heel of his shoe dragged through the pool of blood and created a zigzagged line on the tiles. He wiped his face with the back of his hand. The cuff of his shirtsleeve turned crimson. He looked down on it and muttered something, then slowly got up. He palmed his lip once more.
“Hey, you’re a real asshole. You know that, Tanner?” He leaned forward, like he contemplated charging me. Instead, he let his words do the fighting. “Maybe you and that whore belong together.”
I started toward him again. He took a few steps to the side, keeping me in view. I kept moving forward.
“Mitch!”
I stopped, arm cocked, and looked past Fairchild. Sam stood at the end of the hall. There were probably five or six other officers between him and me, not counting Fairchild. Horace was heading our way and had just passed Sam. By the time I readjusted my gaze, Fairchild had moved back another five feet. I unclenched my fist, dropped my arm and waved him off.
“You’re not worth it,” I said.
His smile had returned, despite the red trickle from the corner of his mouth to his chin and down his neck. His shirt collar had turned red on the right side. “I’ll send you my dry cleaning bill along with a transcript of the interview. I’m sure you’ll find it helpful.”
“About as helpful as you finding a vagina.”
Sam headed toward me, but I turned away and kicked the door open. By the time he made it outside, I was slipping behind the wheel of my car. I started it up and drove to where Sam was standing. He waited for me to roll down my window.
“What?”
“I was gonna tell you that Huff’s going to give one last push for us.”
“Think that’s going to matter to me now?” I asked. “You know Fairchild’s going straight to Huff to file a complaint. And Horace saw it, too. No one’s going to back me on this one. No matter what Huff wants, he has to move the complaint up the ladder. He’s not risking his neck for me.”
Sam nodded. He opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing.
Then my phone rang. I looked down at it. “Huff,” I said, tossing the phone onto the passenger seat. “I’ll call you in a bit, Sam.”
I pulled out of the lot and drove to the hospital. The clock on my dash said it was almost two p.m. Wouldn’t be long before the traffic became too heavy to get anything done. Luckily, I didn’t have that far to travel so long as nothing came up. I had a feeling it wouldn’t. Not for me, at least.
My phone rang again. I pulled to a stop at the traffic light and reached across the car. Huff again. I set the phone on the center console without answering it. He could wait. I knew how the conversation would go anyway.
A young woman pushing a stroller walked in front of me. She had white cords dangling from the side of her ears. Probably didn’t hear the car that honked at her.
A few minutes later I reached the hospital. The lady behind the information desk directed me to Lana’s room. My heels clacked against beige linoleum tiles. The fluorescent lights gave the hallways a yellowish tint. It felt like I was coated with disinfectant by the time I reached the end of my journey through the hospital. When I reached Lana’s room, the door was open, so I stepped inside. The bed was missing, though. I went back to the hall and stopped the first nurse I found.
“Where is Lana Suarez?” I asked the young woman.
She looked at me for a moment, disinterested, like she was thinking of a way to get past me. She said, “Who?”
“The patient in that room.” I pointed toward Lana’s room.
The nurse walked over and grabbed a clipboard hanging by the door. “Let’s see,” she paused to run her finger down the chart. “They are performing a CAT scan right now.”
“Why? She’s here for a broken leg.” I recalled Lana saying something about a concussion a few seconds later.
She shrugged. “I can find out, but it will be a while before I can get back to you.” She faked left and went right. I didn’t try to stop her.
I shook my head. Said to no one in particular, “No, that’s all right. I’ve got a few things to take care of, then I’ll be back.”
I stared at the floor as I walked back to the main entrance. It was lined with scuff marks. I figured a team of people spent all night waxing and buffing those floors. Several questions ran through my mind. The question of ‘why’ remained present always. Why the kids? I still had no idea. Why had Miller changed his name? Everything had moved so fast we hadn’t had an opportunity to find that out. I hadn’t seen Brad McCree’s criminal record yet and didn’t know if we could put him together with that Farrugio character. Was it a coincidence that he stole a van belonging to another criminal? Or was this thing bigger than I had originally thought?
I wondered what my punishment would be for belting Fairchild. As I exited the hospital, I pulled out my cell and took it off the silent setting. Seven more missed calls. They were all from Huff. I bit the bullet and called him back.
“Are you friggin’ stupid, Tanner?” he asked.
I didn’t respond. I’d learned there was little point to answering a question like that.
“You know you’re going to be disciplined for this, right?”
“I’d imagine so.”
“I can’t back you up, Tanner. Warren is going to come down hard on you over this.”
“I expect he will.”
“How can you sound so calm over this?”
I wasn’t sure. “I just am, Huff. What’s done is done. If you can’t back me up, so be it. I’ll man up and take my punishment. After all, you guys already neutered me today. Now, you got anything else to tell me, or are we done here?”
He stammered for a minute, and then said, “That’s all, Tanner. Keep your phone close by in case Warren wants to talk with you.”
I hung up and unlocked my car. By that time, I simply wanted to get home to Ella. First I had to go take care of Lana’s cat, Envy. The little guy had no idea what had happened. Hopefully I wouldn’t raise any suspicion with him.
The drive to her place took me past the school again. The parking lot looked empty except for a dozen or so squad cars and a couple of forensics vans. I wondered if Sandusky was down there. The major news channels were still parked along the road, joined by some of the national news networks. I figured they all wanted in on this story. Perhaps they’d like to interview the former lead investigator on the case. The thought brought a smile to my face. How pissed would Chief Warren be then?
About two miles later I pulled into Lana’s neighborhood. She lived in a small bungalow style house adorned with pale blue siding and white trim. I pu
lled into the driveway just in time to see a man emerge from behind her house.
Chapter 29
I opened the door and stepped out, using the vehicle as a shield. I drew my weapon and aimed it in the guy’s direction. “Who the hell are you?”
The man stopped, dropped something on the ground, lifted his arms in the air and said nothing.
Slowly, I made my way around the vehicle, keeping my pistol aimed at the guy. I cast a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure no one approached from the other side of the house. The guy was dirty, covered in dirt or soot or something similar, from head to toe.
“You don’t answer me, I’ll shoot,” I said.
He pointed at the truck parked in front of the neighbor’s house. “Replacing the chimney,” he said with a heavy Hispanic accent.
“Why aren’t you parked in front of her house?”
“It was blocked.” His hands shook.
I got close enough to read the patch on his shirt and the ID attached to the lanyard around his neck. He’d told the truth. I holstered my weapon, keeping an eye on him while I did so.
“Can I grab my tools?” he asked.
I nodded. “I’m sorry about that. Kind of on edge today. Know what I mean?”
The guy nodded, probably out of fear. He had no idea what I was talking about.
“You see anything funny out here today?”
He shook his head. “Can I just finish my job?”
I nodded and watched him head to his truck and put his tools away. It felt like the humidity had reached its peak for the day. At least, I couldn’t imagine it getting any higher. My forehead was already coated in a sheen of sweat. I decided to walk around the perimeter of the house before heading inside. Best to check things out. I hadn’t been aware that Lana was making improvements. She’d said nothing about it. Or if she did, it was during a game and I’d tuned her out. It’s happened on occasion.
I reached the backyard and saw that the chimney was in a few different stages of repair, or disrepair. It looked like they’d removed the exterior bricks and had already started to rebuild the bottom with new brick. The flue looked new. The sun reflected off it, creating a bright ball. I imagined the rest of the parts were being replaced as well. I continued on and saw Envy at the back door. She’d placed herself between the rear sliding door and the Venetian blinds. She walked back and forth pressed up against the glass. She stopped and looked at me. Her mouth opened and let out a meow that I never heard.
I continued around the house. Everything seemed normal. There were no broken branches on the hedges. The windows were closed and intact. The rear gate was shut and the padlock untouched. The trash cans were nestled between two shrubs at the corner of the house, like they always were. I stopped at the front door, pulled out my keys and unlocked it. Cold air rushed out as I walked in. The air conditioning must have been set at sixty. No wonder Envy paced the back door. Cat had to be freezing and the sun had warmed the glass. I wasn’t sure if cats actually got cold or not, but it sounded reasonable.
I made my way through the house. The smell of potpourri was heavy. Envy’s food bowl was next to the pantry door. I filled it to the top then I changed her water and kitty litter. I didn’t mind going above and beyond the call of duty.
As I walked over to the fridge, I pulled out my cell and checked for missed calls. There were none. No good news, and more importantly, no bad news. Inside the fridge I found a Mich Ultra. Not my beer of choice, but I cracked it open anyway. It was cold and slid down my throat easily. I checked my forehead. The sweat had dried.
Lana’s laptop was on the kitchen table. I lifted the lid and powered it on. I had my own account on the computer. I logged in and pulled up my personal email, which contained nothing but a bunch of junk mail. I then opened another tab in the web browser and went to the site for the department’s web mail. The first message said that I’d been suspended for two weeks for striking Fairchild. The suspension was pending appeal, so I was to report to work as usual tomorrow. I’d be the office maid for the day was what it would amount to. Might as well stay home. Not like I was going to win the appeal if Warren oversaw it. The next message was from Kettle. He’d come through on his report on the theft of the van. Unfortunately, the report didn’t contain anything new.
I did a check of the local news sites as well as a couple of the major ones. The locals all had coverage of the murder and kidnapping. They hadn’t pieced together Dusty Anne Miller’s murder as being related. It was then that I realized I’d missed the autopsy. I pulled out my phone and made a note to call in for the results first thing in the morning.
I checked my work email one last time before shutting down the browser. A message from Fairchild had come in not a minute ago. I moved the mouse to the message to open it. Before I could, someone knocked on Lana’s front door. Not a normal knock. They pounded on the door, ignoring the doorbell. The only ones I knew who did that were cops, and not the friendly ones.
Chapter 30
The banging never stopped. Debby thought she’d go mad before too long. In between the pounding on the walls beyond the room, she heard Beans’s wheezing. How much longer would he last? When would the men come back? She had to go to the bathroom and was sure Beans did as well. She decided to bring the subject up.
“I really have to pee,” she said.
Beans made a sound like he rolled over or lifted up. It was still dark in the room. “Me, too. Go in the back corner on your side and I’ll go in mine.”
“What if the room is slanted and it rolls back toward us?”
“Then it does.” Beans paused, took a deep breath, then laughed. The sound eased the knot in Debby’s stomach. He added, “I’m going to hold it a bit longer.”
“Me, too,” she said after a moment of contemplation. “If only they’d come back.”
“How long do you think we’ve been down here?” he asked.
She reached for her wrist, but her watch had been taken from her. It had a button you could push that would light up the dial. “I don’t know. I’ve slept a couple times, I think. But I have no idea for how long. Could have been a couple minutes. Could have been all night.”
“Yeah,” he said.
She knew when Beans slept and when he was awake. His wheezing slowed to a rumble when he was asleep.
The banging got faster.
“What do you think they are doing?” she asked.
“I don’t know. How do we know it’s them? What if they just dumped us off in a shed somewhere and that’s coming from something close by?”
Debby glanced up and looked to the side. She could see tiny pinholes of light coming through the floor. “We’re under something, Bernie. I don’t know what. But when I look to the side I can see a little light above us.”
Beans started sliding along the floor. She shifted her gaze and saw his outline heading toward the front of the room. It amazed her how much better she could see in the dark now.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Checking this door.”
“For what?”
“Maybe it’s unlocked.”
The thought hadn’t crossed Debby’s mind. “Why would they bring us out here and then leave the door unlocked?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “Maybe they’re dumb. Maybe it’s a game to them.”
She didn’t doubt that. Anyone who would take two kids probably wasn’t a Rhodes Scholar. Not that she knew what that was either. It had been an insult her brother had tossed at her once. In front of her, she heard Beans pound on the door.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I can’t find a latch or knob,” he replied. “I’m seeing if anyone’s out there.”
“What if they’re out there?”
“Then they can come open this door.”
“But what if they hit you for banging on it?”
“Then let them. They can kill me if they want to, but they’d better open this door!”
S
he’d never heard Beans curse before. She’d only ever heard him raise his voice once as long as she’d known him.
And then, the door opened. The light that flooded the room was bright. Brighter than Debby had ever seen before. It was like the sun had come in through the opening. Beans screamed. A moment later he landed on the floor in front of her. He cried and clutched his right arm. Debby shielded her eyes with her hands, blocking the source of the light. She saw a man crouching just inside the doorway. It was the guy who’d watched her in the school building, and later stole Beans from the recess yard.
“I told ya to shut up,” he said. “Keep at it and I’ll do the same to your other arm.”
Debby glanced down and saw that Bean’s wrist bent unnaturally.
“Please,” she said as her eyes flooded with tears, “he needs his inhaler. His asthma is really bad and he’ll die if he doesn’t get it.”
“Which one is he?”
“What?”
“His name, girl.”
“Bernard Holland,” she said.
The guy scooted back through the opening then slammed the door. It bounced open a few inches, allowing enough light into the room that she could see everything in it, which wasn’t much more than her and Beans. There was a bucket in the back corner. She tried not to think of what it contained. She heard the sound of the door slam shut and the light disappeared.
“Are you okay?” she asked Beans.
“My arm hurts really bad.”
She reached over and stroked his hair. She heard the sound of something scraping against the door and then it was pulled open again. The man crawled inside. A wave of putrid body odor washed over Debby. She resisted the urge to throw up. The guy placed a bag on the floor. From the bag he pulled out a sling and tossed it to Debbie.
“Put that around his neck and his arm through it. It’ll keep it from becoming any more damaged.”
Debby started to wrap the sling around Bean’s neck when something hit her side.