by K A Kron
“With what?”
“Whoever did it also sprayed ‘faggots’ on the front windows. I don’t know how we didn’t hear them.”
“Christmas techno. It was loud in there when Ali and I left.”
“Yeah…. Christmas techno.”
“How long has he been in surgery?” I asked, looking at the wall clock. It was close to 5 a.m.
“Probably an hour. It’s been a blur since we got here.”
So we waited. Ali focused on the investigation while the rest of us sat, useless, silently staring at the television. Oliver was the lead story, and we turned the sound up as the newscaster broadcast from the front of Ice House. The cameraman was carefully framing the newscaster in the shot while cutting off some of the graffiti that had been sprayed across the bar. As the female newscaster reported on the beating, we could see the letters “faggots” in white paint on the glass behind her. She finished the newscast by saying that the Denver Police were investigating the incident as a hate crime.
“Well no shit, you stupid bitch,” Joe said to the television. He turned the sound back down and slumped into a chair.
By 8 a.m., I was openly pacing back and forth across the room, which wasn’t helping anyone. The police didn’t have any leads, and Ali seemed only slightly less angry than I was. She had asked me three times if I wanted to go outside and walk around the hospital. I had refused, snapping at her the last time, and she was now sitting next to Adam, flipping through a magazine. I took a deep breath and sat across from them in one of the stiff hospital chairs.
“Ali, do you want me to take you home?” I asked. “I’m not sure how long we are going to have to wait.”
Her eyes rested on me for a few seconds before she replied. “I’m here for as long as I need to be here. I don’t want to go home.” She reached forward and took my hands, kissing the tips of my fingers. “I’m staying with you until we hear something or until the investigation breaks with a suspect.”
I nodded and looked at the floor, tears filling my eyes.
Ali rested her forehead against mine. “He’s young and strong. If anyone can make it through this, it’s Oliver.”
I couldn’t speak and just nodded my head, tears dripping on the floor.
“You’re making a mess,” Adam added, with a little smile.
I laughed, but it came out sounding more like a garbled strangle. “Yeah, look who’s talking. You’ve damn near flooded the room with your bawling.”
Adam nodded. “Yes. I don’t know what I will do if he doesn’t live.”
“He’s going to live,” said Ali.
We waited. Around nine, a group of doctors came in the room, and we stood up in unison to meet them. One doctor seemed to be in charge, and I guessed he was Oliver’s surgeon. The doctor looked exhausted and also surprised to see such a large crowd in the waiting room.
“Who is the family of Oliver Wolfe?” he asked the room.
“We are all his family,” said Ali, in a clear voice that left little room for argument.
The surgeon considered her for a second and then scanned our motley crew. Most of the staff dressed in slutty Christmas costumes. Customers in bar attire. Everyone’s makeup smeared. We were a general mess. The group stood behind me, Ali, and Adam, silent and unmoving.
“Well, Mr. Wolfe is out of surgery, and we have moved him to intensive care. He has suffered extensive injury to his face, and he came to us with massive internal injuries. His condition should improve, but he has a long road ahead of him.” He looked around the room again. “He is going to need all your help to get through this. I am glad to see he has such a large family.” The surgeon gave me a wry smile and patted my arm.
“When can we see him?” I asked.
“A few—and when I say a few, I mean no more than two at a time—can go up and see him. But don’t expect a lot. Mr. Wolfe is still on a ventilator, and we are keeping him sedated.”
The surgeon’s news lifted the mood in the waiting room, and we took a few minutes to hug and cry all over again. Adam collapsed in a chair, and Joe went to sit with him as he wept in relief.
“Told you,” said Ali, hugging me hard.
“I know. You were right. Let’s go up and see him, and then I will take you home. I know you have plans with your dads today.”
I had extensive experience with injured coworkers, but the sight of Oliver in the hospital room still shocked me. His face and head were covered with bandages, and multiple tubes ran between his body and machines that surrounded the bed. A tuft of his dark hair poked through the gauze, and I smoothed it back down on his head.
Now it was Ali’s turn to cry as she stood at the foot of the bed, watching us. I felt the rage building as I watched the machine breathe for Oliver and imagined the damage to his beautiful face. I did not know who yet, but someone was going to pay. And pay mightily.
I kissed Oliver’s hand. “I will take care of this. I promise you.”
Chapter 52
We left Adam and Joe at the hospital to take the first shift while I drove Ali home. We were both lost in our own thoughts, and the quiet was a relief after the chaos of the hospital. When I stopped in front of Ali’s house, she leaned across the seats to give me a long hug.
“Thanks for coming with me,” I said.
“Don’t thank me. I wouldn’t have been anywhere else.” Ali swung her legs out of the car and then leaned back in. “Give me a call later, and I’ll go with you to see Oliver tonight.”
My phone rang as the car door clicked shut, and my eyes narrowed as I checked the readout.
“Good morning, my darling,” said Charlie. “Ali looked good, considering you had her up all night.”
I sighed. “How long has the tracker been on my car?”
“A week or so.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little creepy?”
“Nope,” he replied. “What’s the plan?”
“I don’t know, Charlie. I need to think. I haven’t slept, and I’m not in the mood to talk.”
I could hear laughter in the background and wondered if he was in a bar or a whorehouse at noon, both of which were completely possible.
Charlie snorted. “Well, get your shit together. You don’t have much time before the cops go back to the scene.”
He disconnected, leaving me with a dead phone in my hand.
Chapter 53
The word “faggot” is rarely used in a positive manner. When it is sprayed in white paint across the front of a gay bar, it is used out of ignorance and a certain level of insanity. I stood in front of the windows, trying to take deep breaths and calm the fury running through my blood. My vision was foggy, and I wasn’t sure if it was from exhaustion, rage, or both. I knew I looked unstable standing in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing people to walk around me, but I didn’t care.
Something in my mind crossed back through a gate I had believed was closed, and I felt the familiar sensation of overwhelming calm and focus coming down over me like a blanket. I walked around the bar to the back door and disarmed the alarm before letting myself in with a key Adam didn’t know I had.
The bar looked like it had the night before, with the Christmas decorations still hanging in place. Adam had had enough common sense to move what was left of the ice sculpture into the kitchen near a drain the night before, and I was relieved to not have to walk through a flood of water as I made my way to his office. I had never been in the bar alone, and it was strange to listen to the normal sounds of the building settling and moving instead of the loud voices of Adam, Oliver, and the other staff.
Adam’s office was open, and I moved to sit behind his desk where I could access the security system. Adam valued the use of advanced technology and had installed an expensive camera system throughout the building. I had long suspected Adam used the cameras to spy on his favorite customers and staff in compromising positions, but I was now thankful that the security system was so extensive. I was hoping the cameras had captured a portion of
the back parking lot and Oliver’s attackers.
I replayed the parking lot footage, starting with early in the evening. The cameras caught some interesting things, including a quick sexual escapade against the back wall by two female customers and a hit-and-run accident. I recognized the driver of the run vehicle as a regular and made a mental note to mention it to him the next time he was in the bar. I shook my head, wondering how people thought they could get away with anything in this day and age. The exterior tapes were entertaining, and I almost laughed out loud when I tried to imagine the debauchery I would see if I watched footage from inside the bar.
Watching the tapes was taking more time than I had budgeted, and the exhaustion was starting to settle in my bones. I left Adam’s office in search of coffee before I fell asleep at his desk with my head on the security tapes. As I waited for the ancient coffee machine on top of the bar, I considered my plan and analyzed it for potential shortcomings. Some of it was going to have to be improvised, a tactic I didn’t favor, but there was really no way around it. Coffee in hand, I returned to Adam’s office, again hoping the tapes would pay off.
At the 2 a.m. mark on the tape, I caught the same dark blue SUV circling the lot and leaned toward the monitor to get a better look. The vehicle was a late model Tahoe with snowboarding stickers across the back window. The driver pulled into a space at the back of the lot, facing the bar, and turned the headlights off. I wrote down the license plate, my hands calm and steady as I copied the information down on a bar napkin Adam had been using as a coaster. For the next half hour, there was no movement from the SUV.
It was an odd sensation to now watch Ali and I walk out the back door at 2:14 a.m., knowing that the person in the SUV was tracking our movements. I watched as Ali laughed and leaned into me to say something, remembering that she had been teasing me about the elf outfit as we walked toward my car. I saw myself on the screen look at Ali with longing and something pretty close to love. Yep, I thought, I was in trouble with her.
We left in my car, my taillights turning out of the lot toward my apartment. For a few minutes, nothing happened, and I watched the time click away on the tape. Oliver exited the bar at 2:30, alone and unaware of what was about to happen. When Oliver was a few feet from his truck, the doors of the SUV opened to reveal two men. They moved toward Oliver rapidly from his back, and he recognized the danger too late to react. Both men were white, of average build, and appeared to be in their early twenties. They used the element of surprise to their advantage, and soon Oliver was on the ground, trying to defend himself from kicks to his head and face. I focused on my breathing as I watched the tape, trying to keep from screaming in Adam’s small office. The attack continued for another forty-two seconds before the men stopped and fist bumped each other. One of them spit in Oliver’s direction as they walked back to the Tahoe, laughing.
Oliver lay without moving, and even though I knew what had happened, I found myself again praying that he would be all right until help arrived. Five minutes later, Adam and Joe came out the back door. Luckily, Oliver had fallen near the center of the lot and was lying at the edge of a pool of light from the overhead poles. Adam and Joe had been talking as they left the bar, and Joe suddenly stopped, pointed, and started running toward Oliver. Good on you, Joe, I thought. He reached Oliver first and knelt to check a pulse before looking wildly for the attackers.
The rest of the tape was as Adam had described, with Joe searching the area and Adam staying with Oliver until the paramedics and police arrived. After making sure the men in the SUV hadn’t driven by to see the impact of their handiwork, I stopped the tape and ejected it from the machine. I replaced it with a blank tape, knowing that the police investigation would be at a standstill without the information.
After a few hours of sleep, a hot shower, and a bowl of mac and cheese, I felt like a new person. Ali had texted me a few times while I had been sleeping, and I returned her texts, letting her know I would be at the hospital later if she wanted to join me.
I found Adam and Joe sitting on either end of the love seat in the hospital room, both of them asleep with their mouths open. Oliver was still sedated and looked exactly as he had when I had left that morning. I reflexively checked all the monitors and saw that his vital signs were stable and that he was still breathing on his own.
I tossed a spare IV bag at Adam and hit him squarely in the chest. He sputtered and stood up, fists clenched and ready for a fight. At the sight of me grinning at him, Adam opened his mouth to start yelling. I raised my hand and opened my eyes as wide as I could, to silence him.
“No yelling,” said Joe, yawning and stretching.
“Goddamn it, Riley,” whispered Adam, “you about gave me a fucking heart attack. That bag was heavy.” He rubbed his chest dramatically.
“I was aiming at your head,” I said. I turned my attention to Joe. “Anything new?”
“No,” he said. “The nurses keep coming in and out to check on him, but nothing has changed since you left.”
I gave them the once-over, wrinkling my nose in Adam’s direction. “Why don’t you guys go get some rest? Ali is going to meet me here in a while, and we can sit with Oliver. Plus, you could use a shower.”
Adam stuck his tongue out at me. “Sometimes you are a complete brat,” he said.
I knew they were tired, and within a few minutes, Joe and Adam had gathered themselves and said good-bye to the sleeping Oliver, both giving me a hug as they left.
I sat with Oliver, holding his hand, while I waited for Ali. I knew by what the doctors had told us and from the bandages that his face was seriously damaged, and the beautiful man I had known was probably gone forever. And even if Oliver recovered from his physical injuries, the emotional and psychological damage was going to be permanent. I put my head down on the edge of the bed, staying there until I felt Ali’s kiss on the back of my neck.
Chapter 54
At 4 a.m., I ran. Up one street and down the other through Capitol Hill, dodging the legs of the homeless sticking out of doorways. Dogs woke as I passed house after house, their barks marking my progress and path. I ran for hours, the anger present and motivating me. I was determined to find Oliver’s attackers, and the thought of them spitting on him as he lay in the parking lot caused me to accelerate my pace until I thought my heart would burst. I finally stopped in front of the bar and was relieved to see that Adam had managed to have the glass replaced already. Adam hadn’t opened the bar the previous night, and roses and small teddy bears covered the front step. I walked to the back parking lot to look at the scene.
I tried to estimate the location where Oliver had been beaten, using the camera footage as a reference. The SUV had been parked toward the back of the lot, and it wasn’t hard to imagine how Oliver had been blindsided. The two men definitely had the advantage, because Oliver was attacked from behind. I tried to imagine why the duo had lain in wait for Oliver but couldn’t come up with anything other than a hate crime.
I walked back to the empty apartment, stopping for coffee on the way. Ali hadn’t spent the night, and we had both agreed to spend Sunday apart, working on our own to-do lists. Ali’s list included groceries, the dry cleaners, and homework. My list focused on finding and torturing Oliver’s attackers.
I had already researched the license plate and found that it was registered to James Tolliver. He attended the University of Colorado at Denver as a business student, and waited tables at the Corner Grill. It came as little surprise that the Corner Grill was less than a quarter mile from Ice House. Tolliver was twenty-two and, according to the DMV, seemed to have a problem with drinking and driving. His license was under suspension for a second DUI in less than two years.
Chapter 55
I found the address for James Tolliver, in Capitol Hill, off 11th Street. A lot of old buildings in the area had been made into apartments. I parked a few blocks away at the Queen Soopers and walked to his neighborhood, keeping my eyes peeled. It wasn’t the best area.
From the safety of the other side of the street, I watched them move into Tolliver’s apartment building. They were deep in conversation, smiling and laughing, obviously very pleased with themselves. Something about it didn’t add up.
I thought more about this on the way back to my car. A hate crime would make people think twice before coming to Ice House. They picked the nicest guy to make an example of. I stopped at the car and leaned against it. I had the desire to hit something really, really hard. I pushed that need to the back of my mind for a moment, trying to figure out what to do next. Whom did I want to keep tabs on? Probably the people at Immortal who had a lot of money tied up in the business. I smiled in spite of the situation and reached around the underside of my car until I found what I was looking for. The tracking device that Charlie had planted on my car was just about to become a very handy item. I headed back to where they were parked and bent down to tie my shoe so as to slip the device into one of the least noticeable places on the Tahoe.
These guys were getting on my nerves worse than Tommy. As a matter of fact, it wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d showed up next.