by William Cain
Outside the home, Madison puts the SUV into gear and pulls onto the road. She had punched in the location of The French Hospital before heading out, and now follows the voice commands. Within minutes, they reach the emergency room, park, and begin to walk as quickly as one can when an eighty-year-old is with you.
“Madison, run ahead. I’ll be fine. I know you’re anxious. I would be, too,” Reggi urges her.
She doesn’t argue and she doesn’t need any encouragement. She’s off, running to the entrance, waiting impatiently for the automatic doors to open. She briskly walks to the admissions desk, passing bandaged arms, sick people holding their heads or sides, the air thick with the smell of antiseptic, alcohol, and urine. Once there, she waits for the desk clerk to look up. She almost begins to bang on the plexiglass, but to her relief, the clerk asks her the business she’s here for.
“I was called by the hospital. My friend is here. He’s been hurt. His name is Jim…”, she begins, and is interrupted by the clerk.
“Yes. Jimmy. That’s all he wrote down. He can’t talk due to his injury. I called you. He pointed to your number in his cell.” The clerk stands and exits the small office she’s confined to. “Follow me.”
By this time, Reggi has reached her, and the two follow the clerk through a secure door. “This is the emergency room trauma section. We’re going to the nurse’s station. They’ll take over and you can go with them. Ah, here we are.”
To the nurse behind the desk, she says, “They’re here for that guy Jimmy.” Turning to Madison and Reggi, “Just work with Nurse Tate, she’ll take care of you.”
Madison looks expectantly at the nurse. She looks up. “He told us – well, rather wrote us – his name is Jimmy. We didn’t press him, he’s in a lot of pain. He was very messy.” When the nurse sees Madison’s reaction, she adds, “Now, now. We sedated him. Don’t worry. He’ll recover. It looks worse than it is.”
She can tell Madison’s not buying any of it. She stands and comes from around the desk to put her hand on Madison’s shoulder, to reassure her, “It’s going to be alright. He pointed to your phone number and we called. Some kids found him. I have to tell you, it looks like he’s been mugged. The cops are here, too. Let me take you to him.”
Madison nods, holding back her tears, “Do you know what happened? Did he say anything about it?”
The nurse doesn’t want to do the job of the police department, but feels for this poor girl who is probably her own age, so she tells Madison, in hushed tones, “He wrote down his name. Then he pointed to your number in his cell phone.” The nurse pauses to let this sequence of events sink in.
“Then he wrote another word.”
“Bat.”
This is the worst news in the world to Madison, and she begins to cry. The nurse is holding her while Reggi looks on sympathetically. Madison knows what this means. She brought him here and the killer attacked him. It’s her fault. How Jimmy escaped is beyond her imagination. This has to end. This person must be stopped.
Steeling herself now, this isn’t the place for a meltdown. She regains her composure while the nurse leads them to Jimmy’s curtained hospital bed. It’s a short walk of gloom and anger, the dark cloud hanging over Madison, mentally preparing herself for what she’s about to see. She pushes the curtain away and sees the man she loves. He’s not awake, but his injury is pronounced with the swelling of purple flesh, from his right eye-socket down to his chin. His face is partially wrapped in gauze, still seeping slightly with his blood. His right hand and wrist are also set.
Madison moves to his left side and takes her hand to softly stroke his hair, as the nurse and Reggi look on. The nurse takes her leave, as she’ll need to return to her station. She assures Madison she’ll return soon.
As Madison continues to study him, Reggi asks, “Do you think he’ll be OK, Madison?”
Madison starts crying again, cursing her stupid selfishness, allowing Jimmy to stay. She knew it was dangerous with this prick on the loose. A flood of emotions rages through her – desperation, anger, sadness, self-pity. But there’s one feeling she won’t let go of. Her love for Jimmy has reached a new level. With it is the mother in her. She’ll find the person who did this and rip their heart out. Her hatred and anger are at atmospheric levels. She won’t let go and she won’t stop. This is her man and this person will pay.
She knows what she has to do. She knew it a long time ago.
She has to call her Aunt Addie to help her find this piece of dirt. Madison will throw herself at her mercy and her Aunt Addie will help. This is what family is for. If Addie resists, Frank will help to convince her. She’s sure of it.
No more waiting, no more hiding. Madison has convinced herself. This is going to come to an end and she knows how to do it. Her fists are clenched and at her side, her stare unbreakable. Reggi starts to approach her, to bring her granddaughter back from the thoughts and plans running around in her angry mind, plainly seen in her expression.
An officer parts the curtains before Reggi can reach her. “I’m with San Luis Obispo P. D.” He parts the curtain further, “This is my partner. The desk nurse told us you’re here. Can I ask a few questions?”
Madison doesn’t answer him at first, lost in thought as she is. But, before the officer can shoot her strange looks, she turns toward him, “Yes. Ask away.”
When the short interview is done, the officer makes a simple observation. “Your name is the same as the neighbor who fought off an intruder. That case was the talk of the stationhouse. Another attack. Is this a coincidence?”
Madison is no longer under a rock, and she answers him flatly, “No.”
“So, you think someone is stalking you and your friends?”
“Yes.”
The interview continues a bit longer until the nurse returns. Madison has reassured the officer they will not need a police escort nor a cruiser to keep vigil outside their home. There they are quite safe and will restrict their movements to daytime. She also tells him about their neighborhood watch. Satisfied, he and his partner leave to make a full report at the stationhouse.
The nurse tells the two women, “Your friend will be safe here. Go home. He won’t wake up until noon-time tomorrow anyway. He’ll recover, you’ll see.”
It’s been what seems like a very long night. Reluctantly, Madison wakes her grandmother up. She dozed off from all the excitement and emotional moments, exhausted. Looking back at Jimmy sleeping, she kisses his left cheek, and takes her grandmother home.
When they arrive there, a knock at the door arrives before they can put their things down. It’s Greg. He’s been told about some commotion. He’s come here to comfort Madison, Reggi too. He wants to quiet things down. He places his arm around her shoulders as she buries her face in his shoulder, telling him how horrible it all is. She pleads with him, to show him how much she needs his help to find this person that’s terrorizing her and her friends. He reassures her and listens, holding her close.
Reggi’s about to throw up from what she sees. If anything worked toward what she believes is Greg’s best interest, it’s this. Driving Madison into his arms, pleading for his help, is exactly what he wants. Madison needs him, and he knows it. Reggi has one singular thought about it all,
Yuck.
Her next thought is about her granddaughter,
If he harms in her in any way, he is a dead man.
25
There is no chance, no destiny, no fate that can circumvent or hinder or control the firm resolve of a determined soul. Ella Wheeler Wilcox
John, on his rooftop, sleepy and hungry, watches as the girls pull up and enter their home. He’s not surprised when, on the street, a car door is swung open as Greg emerges and hastily walks toward the front door. From his vantage point high above, he has an unobstructed view of the front, including the bay window. Greg is holding Madison as she cries, wildly gesturing at times. Reggi offers her a tissue that she takes, using it to dry her tears. It’s a sad scene, made ev
en more confusing to John. He doesn’t know what’s happened, but he intends to find out.
Sneaking a look to his east, around the vent, the other figure has reappeared, wearing black clothing, donning a black cap, again. The person’s hands are in its jacket pockets, the shoulders slumped, watching. Always watching. Looking back to the car, John sees a movement. He grabs his binoculars to get a clearer, crisper picture. It’s two men, one in the front seat and one in the back. John’s familiarity with the Underground is thin, but it doesn’t take a Brainiac to add one and one. He assumes the two men must work with or for Greg, providing muscle or boots on the ground.
Sneaking another look around the vent, the person on the other roof of the school building hasn’t moved. John doesn’t think he’s been seen as the figure never looks in his direction, oblivious to John’s presence on this dark night. John considers climbing the service ladders again, but doesn’t relish the thought of going to all that work without reward. Whoever that is, well, they’re up to something. It’s too dangerous and John’s too old for this kind of work.
He takes up his binoculars again and points them toward the bay window. When he does, he steps back in shock. Reggi is staring out through it. It appears she’s looking at him. But that’s impossible. She can’t be looking at me John dreads. Still, she is looking up. From what he can see, her eyes are fixated on himself, three floors up at the top of this building. John has options. One, he can slowly drift away. Two he can stand, unmoving. Sooner or later, Reggi will decide she really can’t make out what it is, and turn away. John is perplexed as to how she even noticed him in the first place. Maybe he’s overreacting, but he doesn’t know. He makes his choice and continues to stand, a shadowy figure on a murky night. Holding the binoculars up will tax his arms after a while, he knows. He resolves to outwait Reggi, anyway, praying for her to turn around.
Looking at Reggi in this way, he remembers the early days when they were happy together. The days and months after he first married Reggi. Those were the best of times, made even better when Frank was born. But it wasn’t meant to be, and he ruined it. They tried to be happy and have another child, Charlotte, and then another, Megan. As time dragged on, his drinking killed those happy times. He remembers it all. Now, his life is coming to a sad end. He has this one task left, one achievement to fulfill. To keep the women, Reggi and Madison, as safe as he can.
When he’s done living in the past, he focusses once again on the bay window. Reggi is no longer there. She’s seen walking away, presumably to fetch Madison another tissue or drink of water. When he lowers his tired arms, more than happy to drop the field glasses to his side, he opts to peek around the vent to see if the figure is still there. It’s a risk, he knows. Reggi was staring at him for so long, he’s sure the person saw it. For all he knows, the figure in black clothing is coming for him right now, and he’s on high alert, afraid to move, or even breathe. He believes he’s been found out. It’s an uncomfortable feeling.
As he slowly pokes his head out to look around the vent, he freezes, eyes wide. The figure appears to be facing his way. John’s not sure, but he is sure of one thing. The person over there is not looking at the house. At least, to John’s relief, the figure is still on the other building, and not here already, preparing to do to John what he expects. He watches the figure for a while, remaining still. It’s his best option in this light, of which there is very little. If you can’t be sure of what you see, then you’re more likely to be satisfied if it doesn’t move. John is shortly rewarded when the figure turns back to watching the house, not giving any more attention to whatever might the woman in it had been looking at.
He remains like this for a while, unmoving, just to be sure. He pulls back, remaining on his feet, continuing to monitor the house. Still, the person on the other roof bothers him. John’s itching to go there and find out who it is, no matter the danger. He’s gathering his nerve to do it, considering his alternatives and his mission. He needs to protect the women. This unknown person is a threat. Chiding himself and his duty, he decides the time is now.
That’s when it happens.
“Hey, John. Watcha looking at?”
He practically jumps out of his skin. “Goddamn!” He hisses as quietly as he can.
John follows it up with, “You scared me to death! Damn!”
John clutches his chest, feeling his heart rate soar, “Goddamn!”
He’s doubled over now, breathing heavily. When he stands up, he’s looking directly into her eyes. Even in this dim light, he knows the woman who startled him is Addie. He knows her voice. He heard it enough recently.
“Damn, Addie, Damn!”
She’s smiling and laughing, pointing her finger at him, “Caught you peeping, didn’t I? You know that’s a crime here? Bad boy, John.”
When he turns to her, she’s nothing but a foot away, she’s that close. As he begins to answer her, there’s a tap on his shoulder, and he’s startled again. Bending over and away, holding his arms and hands in a defensive position, he curses, “Damn! Who the hell is that?!”
When he turns to see the person behind him, he finds a young woman, barely into her twenties, if that. She smiles sweetly back at him before Addie butts in.
“That’s Agatha, Frannie’s wife,” Addie tells him, adding, “She’s your granddaughter, John. Say Hi, Agatha.”
Agatha holds up her right hand, waving, “Hi.”
Numbly, John replies, “Hi.”
Looking back to Addie, he starts to speak. Addie holds her hand up, stopping him, “Which one is it, John?”
John is lost and bewildered. He’s in a dream, a nightmare maybe, and doesn’t know what to say, “What?”
“The house, John. Which one are Madison and Reggi in?”
Across from the school, are six homes. Addie wants to make sure they have the right one. John points to the home with the tall tree in front. Addie begins to step forward to see it from the edge of the building. John stops her, and he brings his finger to his lips. Shushing her.
Addie’s confused, John knows, so he brings his two new friends closer and he whispers, “There is someone on the roof across the way, looking at the house. Last night, too. I think it’s the same person that was following the girls in Las Cruces.”
This is breaking news for Addie … big, big news. If John is right, then it’s the killer she seeks. Slowly, she looks around the vent and studies the roofline. After having given it the respect it’s due, she turns back to John and Agatha. “If there was someone there, then they are gone. We may be able to use this to our advantage later. The person didn’t see us.”
Looking at Addie, Agatha suggests, “We carry on with the plan as before.”
Nodding, she replies, “Yes. Now John, are you alright? I didn’t mean to startle you too much. Still, I couldn’t help myself. It was too tempting.”
She’s smiling, and Agatha is laughing lightly. John sits down is his folding chair, taking a load off his feet and his mind. He needs to calm down, as his nerves are on edge, “Well, don’t do it again. Please,” and he starts laughing with Addie and Agatha. He’s relieved it’s her and not the black-clothed person, anyway.
When he notices the firearm in the belt holder behind Agatha’s back, and sees the badge also held there, he knows something is going on. His belief is they intend to arrest the women. Tonight. Now.
To Addie, he asks, “She’s a cop, too?”
“Yes,” Addie tells him, looking at Agatha. “She is and she’s good. You’d be proud.”
“You going to arrest them?”
The policewomen look at each other, agreeing silently on what they can tell him. Addie replies, “Not exactly. We’re with ten other officers, from several jurisdictions. We’re here to end this and capture the real killer. That’s all I can say.”
John lets this sink in. He gradually realizes something and asks, “How did you find me? No one knows I’m here.”
“That’s a trade secret, John. A good magician
never reveals their tricks. Now, let’s use the ladder to reach the street. I’m going to put you in the wagon.”
Surprised, John asks, “Are you arresting me?”
Addie shakes her head, smiling somewhat. “No. But I don’t want you to get hurt. All of the officers in this operation are carrying weapons. We don’t expect trouble. And then again, we do expect trouble.”
She puts her hand on his arm. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I mean, you just met your granddaughter. Let’s not spoil it. Come on,” and she starts to lead the way.
John stops her for a moment. He looks a little hurt. “You used me, didn’t you?”
Addie turns, looking up to him. She smiles, pinches his cheek, and says, “Thanks, Dad.”
Then to Agatha, “When we reach the street, you have a one-minute head start. Just follow the plan.”
“Right,” Agatha acknowledges.
They begin their descent. When they reach the bottom, Juvieux is there with the group. John looks around. They’re all dressed in street clothes. Each has a tactical, rear belt holster with their badge attached to that. From the looks of things, the bulletproof vest is underneath. Addie motions him over to the wagon, and he is more than happy to enter the safety it affords.
When she closes the door, she addresses Juvieux, as well as the group. “There was another person on the top of the roof. Paulson saw this tonight and last night. I have reason to believe this person is the killer of the two victims in Florida and Texas, and the attempted murders here.”
Looking at David, “Did you see anyone come down that side of the school?”
“No. We weren’t even looking at that,” David replies.
“Chances are, the perp was gone before we arrived,” Addie points out. “Let’s stick to the plan.”
Juvieux addresses the group quietly, “It’s go time. You have one minute to take your positions.”
The group scatters, except for David, and Addie, who is looking at the clock on her field radio.