Venus was about to pop out of his forehead. Ian didn’t know what that meant but he heard a teacher at school talk about how the goddess Venus was born when she burst out of another God’s head. That’s what Ian felt like.
He sat up on his little bed and got a look at his reflection in the window. His eyes were red and puffy, the right one almost swollen shut. Blood had caked on his temple where one of the rocks Howie Shupe had thrown at him connected.
Ian pulled down the collar of his tee shirt, now ripped and holey. He looked at the slashes that cat had made. It wasn’t the cat’s fault. Howie had picked up the stray by the scruff, shook it in the air and then threw it on him. Still, Ian hated cats. He jumped when he touched the scratches the claws had made in his neck and shoulder.
His head was just pounding. He could see himself holding his head in his hands, his reflection divided by the crack in the window. He reached out and put his fingers on the crack, hoping not too much cold air would come in when the winter came.
“Boy!” He heard his uncle yell. It made him jump. Uncle Nate’s squalls always made him jump. “Boy, I said git yer worthless butt in here! Don’t make me come afta you!”
Ian was still a little wobbly but managed to get up off the bed and open the bedroom door. He could see his Uncle Nate standing there, hands on his hips and fire in his eyes. Before he could take a step more, Nate grabbed him by the scruff and yanked him the rest of the way in the room.
Uncle Nate slammed him down on the floor and pointed. “You give this kid that shiner?”
Ian tried to focus his eyes. The swift kick in the pants didn’t help much. “Answer me boy!”
The drawn back fist came into focus. Ian looked toward the two figures that had been in the corner of his eyes. There stood fat old Howie Shupe, arms crossed, smile on his face and a big black eye. Beside him was his Mama, hands balled into fists and steam coming out her nostrils.
“Don’t you even try to lie yer way outta this one, young man. Two other little boys already told me what you done.” Mrs. Shupe sneered.
Nate yanked the boy to his feet. Ian looked at his Uncle. “Yes, sir. I whomped him.”
“You got a devil in you child. I swan, you just the devil reborned.” Nate popped him on the back of the head. “Why’d you beat up this boy?”
“I didn’t beat ‘im up, Uncle Nate. I was a tryin’ to git away from ‘im”. Ian swore.
“You liar!” Howie had a speech problem, so it sounded more like “Ew why-ah!” He looked at Nate and then to his mother. “He done hid a hind a twee, den jumped on my back and beat me up! I tawt he gonna keyuw me.”
He rubbed his fat little hands together and faked some sobs to his mother. “I was so skeered, Mommy. I tawt I was gonna die!”
“Oooh, sweetheart.” Mrs. Shupe pulled the boy to her hip and kissed the top of his head. “The little rat is gonna get punished. Mommy promises.” She whipped her head to Nate.
Howie squinted his eyes and smiled at Ian. Ian waited for whatever was coming next. He knew he didn’t have a choice. It came in the form of his Uncle Nate grabbing him by the throat and lifting him off the ground.
“Why’d you beat this boy?” Nate shook him and Ian struggled for breath. “He’s fat and ugly but that ain’t no scuse.”
Ian clawed at the hands around his throat. Mrs. Shupe reached over and swatted at his Uncle. “Lan’ sakes, Nate Ransom, don’ kill the little brat until we gets a good confession.”
Nate threw Ian down in the floor. His uncle kicked at the pile he’d made of Ian. “Kitch yer breath dammit, and tell me why.”
“I dint do it, Uncle Nate. I swear. I was jus’ tryin to git away. I swan!” Ian gasped. “He was a beatin’ me up!”
“Ew whyah!” Howie screamed.
Nate whipped his head toward Ian’s accuser. “Shut up, Butterball! I’m talkin’ to the devil. When I wants a list a yer sins, I’ll ask.”
“Nate Ransom, there is no sense in…”
“You, too, bitch.” Nate cut Miss Shupe off and raised his backhand. She grabbed her son and took a step backwards. “Now, what was the fat kid a beatin’ ya up fer?”
“Which time?” Ian had to ask.
“Which time?” Nate straightened up his shoulders. “Whatcha mean which time?”
Ian had had enough. He wobbled up off the floor and put his hands on his hips in defiance. “Ain’t that hard a question Uncle Nate. If ya wants to know why he was a beatin’ me up, ya gots to tell me if was this morning when he riled that old stray cat up and hit me wif it until I gived him ma lunch, or after school when he threw rocks at me cause he didn’t like the butter sandwiches I had in m’poke!”
“He ain’t done it!” He incensed mother insisted. “That child’s a lyin’!”
Ian was busy looking at Howie who was looking back with a grin. Ian almost yelled when he felt his uncle’s rough hands grab him. “Let me see you, boy.”
Nate grabbed Ian by the chin and craned Ian’s head roughly from side to side. He touched the bloody knot on his temple. Then he ripped up his shirt and touched the bloody scratches all over Ian’s belly. “I’ll be damned.”
Ian had never seen that look on his uncle’s face before. He put his hands on Ian’s trembling shoulders and he slowly turned his head until he locked eyes with Howie Shupe. Nate was on his knees, so he and the boy were eye to eye.
Howie Shupe started trembling. “I dint do dat. That kid’s kwazee, a kwazze whyah. He jump me aftuh school an’ beat me up.”
Nate stood up and reached behind the boy and his mother. Ian took a shocked breath when Nate whipped his shotgun from the frame of the door, cocked it and pointed it at Howie. Mrs. Shupe screamed.
Nate whipped his aim from Howie to his mother. “Shet the fuck up bitch. I got two shots. You wanna go first, open yer trap one more time…” Ian knew the man meant business.
“Now…” Nate pointed the Winchester back at Howie. “Fat ass, why you beat this boy up? He aint got nothing, and you decide ta whip ‘is ass fer his lunch. Then do it agin, cause ya didn’t like the spoilins?”
Howie was physically shaking. His tears weren’t fake this time. “I don’ wike buttah sanniches…” he wined.
“Sa that gives you the right ta jump this boy twict?” Uncle Nate’s eye was beading done the barrel. “Who’s the “whyah” now fat ass?”
Howie peed in the floor. “I sawwy.”
“Tain’t good ‘nuff.” Nate spit. “First ya beats this kid twict, then when he pokes ya in the eye ya go running home ta mommy like the fat ass sissy you is and lie.” Nate took a step toward the in shocked mother and the urine smelly kid. “Whip ‘is ass woman.”
“What?” Mrs, Shupe said.
He flashed the gun at her. “I said whoop his ass! Now!”
Sobbing, Mrs. Shupe turned the boy across her knee and swatted at his behind.
“I said whoop it, not tap his hiney!”
Ian could see the woman grit her teeth. The next crack made a pop. The next even louder. When she was satisfied Nate was satisfied she stood up and let the screaming child fall to the floor. Nate reached down and yanked the chubby boy to his feet.
“You listen ta me, kid. You ever come near Ian agin, if you so much as even look at him from crossed the road…I’ll kill ya.”
“Yeth tha.” Howie rubbed his eye and nodded. “I stay fah fah away.”
“Now git!” Nate kicked the door open. Howie was out almost faster than humanly possible for a child of his girth to move.
“There won’t be any more trouble Mr. Ransom.” Mrs. Shupe tried to be dignified.
“No they won’t.” He grinned at her, gun still pointed in her direction. “I never make a promise I don’t keep.”
Mrs. Shupe nodded her head and backed slowly out the door. When she disappeared from view, Ian saw her shaky hand come back and quietly pull the door to.
It was quiet for a moment, the stink of urine and sweat filled Ian’s nostrils. He should have been prepared for the swift whap of his uncle’s backhand across his cheek. It caught Ian by surprise and knocked him to the floor.
“Don’t you ever make me hafta fight yer battles agin!” Nate reached down and grabbed Ian off the floor by the shirt and britches. It knocked his breath out when he slammed him back down on the floor.
Ian could feel Howie’s urine soaking into his clothes as his uncle used Ian’s body as a rag to clean the floor. The urine stung the scratches already there and the new ones being made by the splinters of the old floor as he was drug back and forth across it.
He tried to open his eyes, but he was so tired and scared. He hurt all over. Venus wasn’t finished coming out of his forehead. He kept hearing voices…voices through the pounding in his head.
“Papa?” The little voice said. “Papa, I’m here…”
He felt something, someone squeeze his finger. People were moaning and crying. He couldn’t focus for all the tears and the moans. There was a hand on his shoulder. He looked up from his own sobs.
“Mr. Justyn?” The nurse said. “It’s time to go.”
He felt arms go around his waist and a head lay on his shoulder. Something tugged at his fingers. Ian looked down. He was breathing so hard he was having trouble focusing his eyes, but the tugging on his fingers.
He was there, in his arms, and his perfect little hand tugged his finger. “My baby…” Ian choked. “My boy…”
“He’s beautiful, Ian.” Aunt Hil said, trying not to sob.
Ian looked at her, eyes red with tears, but a strong smile on her face. “Com’mon son. It’s time to go.”
She tried to help him take a step toward the door. Ian looked back. He knew he shouldn’t, but he had to. He only caught a glimpse of her face before they pulled the sheet up. His knees buckled with a sob.
He felt hands all around him, holding him up, clutching him. There was so much pain, his body was racked with it. He felt himself being led to the door. He wanted to go back. He couldn’t leave her alone.
Someone grabbed his chin. They made him turn his face toward them. “Child, look at me.” He felt the pull on his chin again. “Look at me.” Aunt Hil’s voice said. “You gots to move on, honey.”
“It hurts Aunt Hil.” Ian’s lips were trembling so he could barely speak. “It hurts so much.”
“I know. Believe me I know.” Ian felt her strong warm hand slip from his chin to the back of his head. “But she’s still here. Look, child. She’s still here.”
He let her gently push his head down to focus on the bundle in his arms, the baby tugging at his finger. The child opened his eyes and looked back at him. They were Taylor’s eyes…and her little nose. He felt the baby’s strong grip pulling his finger to his perfect little mouth, her lips.
All the black, black hair; just like hers, just like his. Ian’s heart leapt. He was holding his wife in his arms, but she wasn’t still. She wasn’t that gray lifeless color. She was pink, and warm and so, so tiny.
The baby sighed. The baby looked at him and sighed.
Ian trembled. There was so much pain. He hurt all over. He looked up and saw the figures in the hallway. Jude and Janie and Kyle, all clutching each other and all wailing so loud. It made his head hurt.
He looked down at the child, the sweet innocent child.
Suddenly he was somewhere else, cowering in the corner terrified. His Uncle Nate was standing over him, smelling of liquor and his own vomit. Ian shook his head.
His mind roared back there. The bodies were the same, but the faces were different. The cowering child in the corner had his wife’s face, his baby’s innocent eyes, and the drunken man in the dirty underwear was him.
He wanted to scream. He tried so hard to cry out, but his voice would only escape in piercing silence. He pulled the baby boy to his chest. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen.
Ian held the little head with his hands and held it to his tear stained check. He was so warm and fragile. How could he stop that from happening this baby? How could he keep him away from the life of tears and pain he had already been born into?
He focused on the figures across the room. They had noticed him standing there. They wiped their eyes and tried to look strong. No one said a word. No one could kill the horrible silence hanging between them.
He started to cry again. The tears stung his face as they dripped from his eyes down his cheeks and off his chin. He took a heavy step, clutching his son so tight.
Ian knew he had to get there. He knew it was the only way to save him. He throbbed with pain. Another step, his feet were like lead pulling through cold tar.
“He’s so perfect.” She said, eyes so red and cheeks so puffy.
Ian kissed his son’s head and pulled him down to look at him. The baby squirmed ever so gently. His little fist went to his mouth, and he opened his eyes and smiled. Just a little, just enough to make Ian have to catch the sob hurling from his chest.
“He looks just like…” She couldn’t say it. Kyle’s hand went to her back to give her strength.
Ian could only nod his head. The pain was more than he could stand. One more burst of energy was all he needed. That was all.
It was hard. He wanted to hold him close. Instead he held the perfect child to her. He saw the look in her eyes. He had to lean in just to keep standing up, almost crushing the innocence between them.
He felt her take him, hold him. He felt her warmth. He could see her look in his face, Taylor’s face, and smile. She looked up at Ian.
It ripped all his skin away, but Ian took a step back. Janie looked at Kyle and Kyle looked in Ian’s eyes. Ian could feel the salt spraying over the wounds where the skin of his heart had been.
He looked down at his baby boy. The baby opened his eyes. His touched his little nose and brushed the pad of his finger gently across his cheek. Ian closed his eyes and memorized the sweet pink softness of the baby’s skin.
His kissed him, so gently. A tear fell to the baby’s forehead. “I love you. I love you with all my heart.”
Ian stood up straight and took a deep breath, then turned around and walked away into the darkness of the pain.
It was dark. Uncle Nate was passed out in his bedroom. Ian had to run and hide again. He had found a place in the hayloft. He could stay up there for hours and no one could see him or find him. There was just enough of a hole for him to look out. He could see almost all the inside of the barn from there.
If he crawled real softly he could get to another place where he could look down and see Mister Jude’s room. He had watched him sleep several times, so he knew that he couldn’t be seen. Ian decided that if things got bad again, he could live there. He’d be fine, unless Uncle Nate got some cows or something and needed the hay. That would be the day!
He liked it there. He could hear the cicadas outside, and he liked the smell of the hay. The barn was musty and old, a little drafty, but it wasn’t much worse than the house. Ian always made sure that when he came out of his hiding place to shake off real good, and to use Mister Jude’s mirror to make sure there wasn’t any hay stuck anywhere to give him away.
Ian had slept a good while. He didn’t know what time it was. He figured he’d stay the night, and crawl down about the time the sun came up and make breakfast. The chickens were getting old and there were only three eggs on most mornings, but that was enough to feed his uncle and mister Jude if he came by.
Ian was just about to fall asleep again when he heard the barn doors squeal open. “Jude? Jude?” A voice called. “You here?”
He could see a woman standing in the moonlight. She wasn’t a beautiful woman, but strong and more than plain. She looked around the barn and called again. “Jude?”
“Prudie?” He heard Jude’s sleepy voice. “Prudie, is that you?”
“Oh, Jude.” The woman rushed to Jude as he appeared from the tack room. “I heard you was back.” She held on so tight.
Jude pushed her back. “Prudie Mae, you shouldn’t be here, tain’t proper.”
“What you care about bein’ proper, Jude Shoun? Never entered yer mind afore.” She said refusing to let go.
“Ga home, Prudie.”
“I will not.” She held firm. “I will not until you tell me why. Why you not come fer me as soon as you got out?”
“Aw, woman…” Jude kicked at the loose hay. “I ain’t got no money. Ida come to ya, but…”
“Whatcha need money fer, Jude.” She put her hands on her hips. “I ain’t never charge you afore. Why would I now?”
Jude plunked down on a bail. “Ain’t right, Prudie.”
“But I love ya, Jude. You know that.”
“Why would ja love a man like me?” He looked up at her.
She smiled. “Why would ja love a girl like me?” She searched his face and hung her head. “I know.”
Prudie sat beside him and sighed. “I ain’t the kinda girl ya marry. I’m just the kinda girl ya screw. It’s awright.”
“Things is diff’ernt now. I couldn’t come to ya. Ya got that little girl ta feed an’ I ain’t got no money. But I’m helpin’ Nate out here, and we’s gonna split the crops. When I…”
Prudie put her hands to his lips to shut him up. “I wouldn’t take it, Jude. That ain’t right. You know if it wernt fer her…I know if it wernt fer her.”
“Aw don’t ja go talkin’ ‘bout…”
“Jude ya left me twict, you done crawled outta my bed, outta my lovin twict cause a her. I knowed it. Both times ya broke ma heart and left me a cryin’ an’ knocked up.”
“Twict?”
“Ya gots another baby girl, Jude. I named her Taylor. It’s pretty like her.”
“She’s mine?”
Prudie just looked at him. “I was gonna tell ya, but she started makin’ eyes yer way an’ I knew you was gone.”
“Ya shoulda tol’ me, Prudie.” Jude had anger in his voice went he stood up and faced her.
“Why, Jude? What good it a done me?” She stayed sitting on the hay. “She had ever thing that counted. I just had yer dick. An’ I couldn’t compete. As much as I’d a liked her ta be, she weren’t no whore, an’ I was.”
“I’d a done right by you…this time.”
“Mebbe.” Ian could see the pain in her face. “But I’d a been doin’ wrong by you.”
She patted the hay beside her and Jude sat down. “We just ain’t that kind, Jude.” Prudie put her head on his shoulder. “She’s gone now, Jude. You come to me if’n you want to. I promise ya I won’t make no fuss.”
“I don’ wanna hurt you agin, Prudie. Tain’t fair ta none of us.”
“Don’cha worry none about breakin’ m’heart agin. Don’t reckon I got one left ta break.”
Ian wished they’d quit talking. They were making so much noise. He wanted to sleep, and his head hurt so much. He put his hands over his ears. He just knew Venus was going to show up any minute.
He hurt all over. I couldn’t move. He couldn’t open his eyes. He felt a cool hand on his cheek.
“Baby Doll?” He heard in the distance. “Ian, honey?” He heard again. “Get the doctor. I think he’s trying to wake up!” He heard feet running. “It’s okay Baby Doll, everything’s gonna be fine…”
The woman’s voice was soothing, but he didn’t feel fine. Every bone is his body ached, and he wanted to vomit. He dropped to his knees and put his hand on the tree and unloaded his stomach. He barfed so hard that puke came out his nose, too. It stung and stunk so bad. He could hear the bailer grinding away.
He could hear Uncle Nate screaming, “Help me, oh dear God, somebody help me”. Then he heard snap and a gargle, and the bailer just churning away.
Ian looked up and saw blood spurting everywhere. The bailer seemed to move around the field on its own spitting out bloody bales as it traveled. Ian threw up again. His head hurt so bad…
“Mr. Justyn?” He heard a slight snap and smelled something vile. “Mr. Justyn?”
Ian was scared and nervous. He wasn’t used to sharing a room. Hell, he wasn’t used to people, and he still saw Uncle Nate all chopped up in the hay when he closed his eyes. We wondered if it would freak this Billy kid out when he woke up screaming in the middle of the night.
Billy stuck his hands in his pockets. “Since we’re gonna be living together for a while, I guess I should just come clean with you. I’m kinda nervous. I never been away from home much. I’m from a big family with lotsa noise all the time. The quiet of just one person around may drive me crazy.”
“Well, I don’t have any family. Was just me and my Uncle, and he died. So I’m not used to being around people. I know I’m sorta weird.”
“I guess we’ll balance each other out then, kinda like dots connecting…”
“If you say so. Let’s just make a pact to tell each other when we are about to climb the walls…”
“Or acting unbelievably stupid in public…”
“I wonder why they always stick the poor kids together?”
“Maybe they think we’ll bring out the best in each other.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice…now if we only knew what the best was…”
Ian was surprised at how much he missed home already, what there was of it. He really didn’t miss his Uncle, but he wished he could close his eyes without seeing him…like that…he missed Aunt Hil’s sweet ice tea. She taught him how to make it, but it wasn’t her’s.
He kept seeing the blood spurting everywhere. Uncle Nate was wobbling trying to call out to him, a whisky bottle still in his hand. Ian could feel the body weight on top of him. He was in so much pain.
“Here kitty, kitty…” He heard the drunken screech in the darkness. “Where’s my pussy at? Here kitty, kitty…”
Ian sat up in the darkness. His heart tried to beat out of his chest. He had to run. The stumbling footsteps were getting closer and closer. He closed his eyes and prayed that Uncle Nate would be so drunk he could fight him off this time.
Quietly as he could he stood and slipped out of his bed. The regular beatings had stopped. They had come out and told Uncle Nate if they saw one more black eye or if he had one more broken bone they’d take him away. Nate beat him one more time for good measure and then it seemed to stop.
If he could just hold out until he was sixteen, just a couple more years. He could drive then, and maybe he could just drive off somewhere and make it stop for good.
“Here kitty, kitty….”
Ian shook his head. The regular beatings had stopped, but another kind of torture had taken its place about a year ago.
He leaned over and reached for the door. It was too late, the door was slammed open wide.
“There’s my kitty kitty.” Uncle Nate stood there, bottle in one hand, blocking his escape with the other.
“No, Uncle Nate.” He said firmly. “You just let me walk on outta here.”
Nate just grinned and dropped the empty bottle to the floor. Ian watched it roll on the uneven rotting floor towards him.
“I’ll hurt cha.” Ian put out his hands in defense. “I swear I’ll hurt cha.”
The drunk lunged forward and Ian threw a punch. He connected with his Uncle’s jaw. His head shot backwards.
“I like it when my pussy fights back.” The man growled in that deep smutty voice. Before Ian could run, Nate kicked him in the gut with his heel.
Ian doubled over in pain, the worse thing he could do. He felt Nate grab him by the hair and slam his face into his crotch.
He rubbed Ian’s face hard up and down his hardness. Ian knew he was going to puke, but he also knew that wouldn’t stop him. Ian tried to lunge forward with his next breath, but he felt Nate sweep his foot and Ian’s feet fell out from under him.
“Uncle Nate, NO!” He fought and yelled as he felt the momentum of his body working against him. One arm was pinned under his body and Nate was on top of him. Ian clawed with his free hand, balling up his fist and flailing the man as hard as he could.
Ian felt is underwear being ripped. “God no…please…Uncle Nate…please don’t…” He begged feeling the rip of pain as Uncle Nate forced himself in.
He kept beating the best he could with his fist. The more he struggled the better his Uncle was able to force his legs farther apart. Ian cried out in pain, giving up the struggle just willing it to be over with.
He unballed his fist and let drop limply to the ground. Uncle Nate grunted as Ian’s knuckles pinged on the glass surface. Ian felt for the neck of the liquor bottle. Once he felt it tightly in his hands he stopped struggling all together and submitted.
“Mmmmm…kitty’s ready to play.” He heard Uncle Nate growl. The drunkard thrust deeper and then pulled out to flip him over.
Ian tried to use the quick shift in his weight to roll out from under his Uncle. He was drunk out of his mind, but the man was strong and quick. He flipped Ian over and pinned his legs over his head. Ian felt the rough penetration, and screamed in pain. He took a deep breath and swung the bottle.
It connected with Nate’s head and burst into pieces. Nate stopped a moment, just a moment and gritted his teeth. Ian turned his face to look into his uncle’s eyes. Blood was running down his head, a stream curving around his grinning lips. Ian felt the bed start to squeak again. He felt the violation continue, harder, more violent.
The bloody face pulled in so close, he almost had to cross his eyes to focus on it. Ian had to focus on something other than the pain. His face was so close all he could see was the bubbles of blood.
When they popped they said “Darla Hutton”.
Ian opened his eyes and screamed. He sat up in bed. Pain shot all through his body and he screamed again.
There were people all around him. He didn’t know who they were or where he was. He wanted to go home. He could see them rushing around. He could see their mouths move but he couldn’t hear them.
A woman came and put her arms around him. She made him feel safe. “It’s okay Baby Doll...” she cooed. “Everything’s just fine…”
Ian looked at her. He knew her. There was a man in a bed next to him. He was sitting on the edge of it, his arm in a sling. “It’s okay buddy. You’re fine. Just lay back down. Let us take care of you….”
Ian shook his head. He knew him, too…
And the little boy, there was a little boy with her eyes looking back at him in both relief and fear. “Papa? Papa it’s okay…”
But it wasn’t. It wasn’t okay. Why did he hurt so bad? Why hadn’t Venus finished with his forehead...and who the hell was Darla Hutton?
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Vignette #148: Ella Manchester
“Twenty four hours and counting” she said quietly. That’s all it had taken was twenty four hours. Ella now had all the pieces together. Well, she would if she lived long enough to get this last piece with the rest of them, if she could find it.
She bashed her knee on the corner of a table in the dark. Slapping her hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t scream out loud. Frozen for a moment, she made sure no one heard her. Easing down on the couch, Ella rolled up her pant leg as best she could. There was a little blood, no real damage.
She yanked down the pant leg, and stood up. No time to loose. She had to get what she needed and get out of this rat’s nest. She started opening drawers and rifling through as quietly as she could.
“What the…?” She reached in one drawer and picked up a plastic bag. She recognized the two cell phones. She shook her head. “Ian hasn’t lost as many as he thought.” She shoved them in her over sized shoulder bag and decided she’d better be a little more detailed.
If, God forbid, she wasn’t able to blow the whistle on this, the least she could do was make it difficult for them to carry it out. She wasn’t exactly sure what they were planning, but she knew it entailed setting Ian up. At least they hadn’t gotten scared and cleaned the place out.
She knew this was where it all ended, or at least the diversion. As she canvassed the place she marveled at how detailed they’d been. It was all ready. She couldn’t figure out what they were waiting for, probably to get they’re hands on as much money as they could.
Blue was just supposed to scare the poor guy out of town. He was only supposed to threaten the boy enough to make Ian scoop him up and head out of town for good. They had promised him that all they needed was Justyn gone, not dead.
The plans had changed at the last minute. That’s what Blue had called and told her. She didn’t know how they’d changed, but she was pretty sure it didn’t include Blue ending up dead. Then again, she knew these guys played rough.
She stuffed some papers in her shoulder bag, and decided to look in the closet. When she opened the door, digging around she spotted exactly what she was looking for. She reached up and grabbed the stack of disks. “Jackpot…” she said quietly.
It was what she needed to link everyone together. It was Blue’s idea, man but he was kinky, and they thought he was dumb. Well he was, but he was smart enough to have a little insurance they didn’t know about.
Maybe Blue being dead was part of the plan. He was a talker. It’s how she pieced everything together, at least enough to start a quiet and very thorough dig.
Slipping the stack with the rest in her bag, she looked around. “Just in case….” Ella went back to the drawers in the table, yanking out an envelope. She quickly addressed it and slipped one of the discs in. “Stamps, stamps…how many stamps…”
Ella slid open drawers knowing good and well she had seen a book in there somewhere. As always it was the last drawer she looked in. She pulled out the book and put all but one of the self-adhesives on the envelope. She started to lick the seal but something in the drawer caught her eye.
She reached in the drawer. Surely that wasn’t a pile of…she stared in wonder at the pile of laminated plastic in her hands. She smiled dropping a handful in her bag. “He’ll never miss a handful will he?”
Plucking one more out and sticking it in the envelope with the disk. “Or this one.” She licked the flap shut and cracked the door, peering out to make sure there was no one in the hallway.
Free and clear, Ella slipped out. She walked as softly as she could. There was no sense in drawing attention to herself. If she could just get out of the building and disappear into the alley without being seen, there was no reason for her to come out of her hiding place until this was all over.
An old woman smiled at her as they passed each other in the stairway. “Are you new in the building honey?”
Ella just wanted ignore her, but the woman was rather large and blocking her way. “No ma’am, I was trying to find a friend, but it looks like he’s not home.”
“5D?” She asked curiously. “Don’t looked so surprised. I know everyone in this building. Haven’t seen Bruno in weeks. You want I should give him a message?”
“No.” Ella smiled. “Old girlfriend, I was going to surprise him.”
The old woman chortled. “Oh sweetheart, you’re the one in for a surprise.” She shuffled past her and laughed the rest of the way up the stairs.
Ella took a deep breath when she’d made it to the lobby doors. “Okay, girl, another hundred feet and you are home free.” She pushed open the door and strode outside.
The street was empty. It was late, that shouldn’t have surprised her. She saw the alley between the buildings out of the corner of her eye. She also spotted the mailbox, the big old fashioned metal mailbox.
Ella walked over and pulled down the lid with a heavy clunk, tossing the envelope inside. “Just in case.” She jumped at the loud sound it made when she let the lid drop.
She looked both ways. The street was still empty. Her head turned to a sound. Ella smiled. It was a stray dog. She darted into the seclusion of the alley, the dog following. She was home free, all bets hedged.
Feeling relieved she bent down to pat the dog on the head before turning the corner at the end of the alley, beginning the back street maze that would take her to complete safety.
“Good boy.” She said, giving the smelly mutt one last stroke.
Ella froze in mid-pat when a pair of feet appeared in front of her. She slowly lifted her head up.
“Ella.” The man said. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”
She stood up, slowly.
“I like the new look, though.” He smiled, the cool detached smile.
“I guess I went a little crazy with the scissors.” She said.
“Yes.” He sighed, looking almost convincingly mournful. “Terrible about poor Blue.”
She pointed back behind her. “I’ve just come from his sister. She lives a few blocks over that way.”
“Oh.” He smiled. “I was wondering what brought you all the way down here by the river. I didn’t realize Blue had family anywhere around.”
“Yes. A sister with three kids.” She started running with the lie until she saw her chance to run. “They’re going to have a hard time. Blue helped out financially as much as he could.”
“Sweet.” He took a step towards her. Ella tried not to flinch. “It’s late to be out by yourself. May I give you a lift somewhere?”
“I’m a born and bred River Rat. Thanks anyway.” Ella slid a hand deep into her purse and smiled, running with the lie. “There will only be a small memorial service, Danika’s still putting together details, but I think it will be Thursday.”
“Danika?”
“Blue’s sister.” Ella nodded. “I’ll let you know. Good night…Bruno.” She walked as nonchalantly as possible past him. She almost thought he’d bought it when she felt his hand clamp on her arm. She stopped dead in her tracks.
She could feel him step closely behind her. She could feel his breath on her ear. “You’re a lying bitch.”
That was her cue. She elbowed him in the stomach and took a step backward grabbing him as he bent forward. She shifted all her weight on her other foot and tossed him easily over her head into the wall at the end of the alley, then ran like hell.
She bashed her knee on the corner of a table in the dark. Slapping her hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t scream out loud. Frozen for a moment, she made sure no one heard her. Easing down on the couch, Ella rolled up her pant leg as best she could. There was a little blood, no real damage.
She yanked down the pant leg, and stood up. No time to loose. She had to get what she needed and get out of this rat’s nest. She started opening drawers and rifling through as quietly as she could.
“What the…?” She reached in one drawer and picked up a plastic bag. She recognized the two cell phones. She shook her head. “Ian hasn’t lost as many as he thought.” She shoved them in her over sized shoulder bag and decided she’d better be a little more detailed.
If, God forbid, she wasn’t able to blow the whistle on this, the least she could do was make it difficult for them to carry it out. She wasn’t exactly sure what they were planning, but she knew it entailed setting Ian up. At least they hadn’t gotten scared and cleaned the place out.
She knew this was where it all ended, or at least the diversion. As she canvassed the place she marveled at how detailed they’d been. It was all ready. She couldn’t figure out what they were waiting for, probably to get they’re hands on as much money as they could.
Blue was just supposed to scare the poor guy out of town. He was only supposed to threaten the boy enough to make Ian scoop him up and head out of town for good. They had promised him that all they needed was Justyn gone, not dead.
The plans had changed at the last minute. That’s what Blue had called and told her. She didn’t know how they’d changed, but she was pretty sure it didn’t include Blue ending up dead. Then again, she knew these guys played rough.
She stuffed some papers in her shoulder bag, and decided to look in the closet. When she opened the door, digging around she spotted exactly what she was looking for. She reached up and grabbed the stack of disks. “Jackpot…” she said quietly.
It was what she needed to link everyone together. It was Blue’s idea, man but he was kinky, and they thought he was dumb. Well he was, but he was smart enough to have a little insurance they didn’t know about.
Maybe Blue being dead was part of the plan. He was a talker. It’s how she pieced everything together, at least enough to start a quiet and very thorough dig.
Slipping the stack with the rest in her bag, she looked around. “Just in case….” Ella went back to the drawers in the table, yanking out an envelope. She quickly addressed it and slipped one of the discs in. “Stamps, stamps…how many stamps…”
Ella slid open drawers knowing good and well she had seen a book in there somewhere. As always it was the last drawer she looked in. She pulled out the book and put all but one of the self-adhesives on the envelope. She started to lick the seal but something in the drawer caught her eye.
She reached in the drawer. Surely that wasn’t a pile of…she stared in wonder at the pile of laminated plastic in her hands. She smiled dropping a handful in her bag. “He’ll never miss a handful will he?”
Plucking one more out and sticking it in the envelope with the disk. “Or this one.” She licked the flap shut and cracked the door, peering out to make sure there was no one in the hallway.
Free and clear, Ella slipped out. She walked as softly as she could. There was no sense in drawing attention to herself. If she could just get out of the building and disappear into the alley without being seen, there was no reason for her to come out of her hiding place until this was all over.
An old woman smiled at her as they passed each other in the stairway. “Are you new in the building honey?”
Ella just wanted ignore her, but the woman was rather large and blocking her way. “No ma’am, I was trying to find a friend, but it looks like he’s not home.”
“5D?” She asked curiously. “Don’t looked so surprised. I know everyone in this building. Haven’t seen Bruno in weeks. You want I should give him a message?”
“No.” Ella smiled. “Old girlfriend, I was going to surprise him.”
The old woman chortled. “Oh sweetheart, you’re the one in for a surprise.” She shuffled past her and laughed the rest of the way up the stairs.
Ella took a deep breath when she’d made it to the lobby doors. “Okay, girl, another hundred feet and you are home free.” She pushed open the door and strode outside.
The street was empty. It was late, that shouldn’t have surprised her. She saw the alley between the buildings out of the corner of her eye. She also spotted the mailbox, the big old fashioned metal mailbox.
Ella walked over and pulled down the lid with a heavy clunk, tossing the envelope inside. “Just in case.” She jumped at the loud sound it made when she let the lid drop.
She looked both ways. The street was still empty. Her head turned to a sound. Ella smiled. It was a stray dog. She darted into the seclusion of the alley, the dog following. She was home free, all bets hedged.
Feeling relieved she bent down to pat the dog on the head before turning the corner at the end of the alley, beginning the back street maze that would take her to complete safety.
“Good boy.” She said, giving the smelly mutt one last stroke.
Ella froze in mid-pat when a pair of feet appeared in front of her. She slowly lifted her head up.
“Ella.” The man said. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”
She stood up, slowly.
“I like the new look, though.” He smiled, the cool detached smile.
“I guess I went a little crazy with the scissors.” She said.
“Yes.” He sighed, looking almost convincingly mournful. “Terrible about poor Blue.”
She pointed back behind her. “I’ve just come from his sister. She lives a few blocks over that way.”
“Oh.” He smiled. “I was wondering what brought you all the way down here by the river. I didn’t realize Blue had family anywhere around.”
“Yes. A sister with three kids.” She started running with the lie until she saw her chance to run. “They’re going to have a hard time. Blue helped out financially as much as he could.”
“Sweet.” He took a step towards her. Ella tried not to flinch. “It’s late to be out by yourself. May I give you a lift somewhere?”
“I’m a born and bred River Rat. Thanks anyway.” Ella slid a hand deep into her purse and smiled, running with the lie. “There will only be a small memorial service, Danika’s still putting together details, but I think it will be Thursday.”
“Danika?”
“Blue’s sister.” Ella nodded. “I’ll let you know. Good night…Bruno.” She walked as nonchalantly as possible past him. She almost thought he’d bought it when she felt his hand clamp on her arm. She stopped dead in her tracks.
She could feel him step closely behind her. She could feel his breath on her ear. “You’re a lying bitch.”
That was her cue. She elbowed him in the stomach and took a step backward grabbing him as he bent forward. She shifted all her weight on her other foot and tossed him easily over her head into the wall at the end of the alley, then ran like hell.
Vignette #147: Jesse Shores
The nightmare became the next day and that day had become another night. Jesse Shores waited as long as he could. He was alone in the waiting room and could stand it no more.
He made his way to the room, nodding at Ripley, steadfast in front of the door. “Need anything?”
Ripley shook his head. “Another guard dog will be in here in an hour. I’ll get a few hours rest and be back.”
Jesse smiled. “Thank you.”
“Just doing my job.”
“It’s more than that.” Jesse touched the man on the shoulder. “Just thank you.”
Ripley nodded his head and stepped to the side allowing Jesse to push the door open and walk into the darkness. Billy was stretched out on a bed, sleeping soundly. He walked to him, hands in jacket pockets and looked down.
“They gave him a sedative to make him sleep.” Came the voice softly from the corner.
Jesse looked up. “How ‘bout you? Have you gotten any rest at all?”
“I tried.” She sighed. “But I just can’t leave him alone.”
He nodded his head and walked to where she stood, looking down at Ian, battered and swollen almost beyond recognition. He put his arm around her and she leaned in.
“He should be awake by now.” She said. “I’m afraid he’s given up. I’m afraid he can’t take it anymore.”
“He’ll make it.” Jesse said almost to convince himself. “He has to.”
Saxon Allen turned to him and looked in Jesse’s eyes in the dark. “I don’t know that if I where in his place that I wouldn’t just give up, too. There’s been too much, Jesse.”
“He’s got Ronnie now.” He put his hands on her shoulders and tried to look into her eyes. “He’s got us.”
She put her head on his chest. “I’ve seen him, Jesse. I’ve seen him when he thinks I’m not looking, one eye is full of terror and the other is full of pain. He can’t shake it.”
“I’ve seen it, too, Saxon, but there’s something you’re forgetting. When he thinks no one’s watching, when he gets that look in his eyes, the rest of him gets ready for that swift kick in the balls that comes out of nowhere. When that’s gone, that’s when we should start to worry.”
Jesse could feel the woman smile and she pulled him close. He rubbed her back and swayed lightly. “Ronnie knows.” He said. “Jeremy says he thinks he already knew.”
“How did he take it?” She pulled back and asked.
“Just like Ian would, went right into let’s get organized mode. He wanted to come straight to the hospital but Susan talked him into waiting until the morning.”
“He’s going to stay with them?”
“Tonight.” Jess confirmed. “Tomorrow they’ll bring him here and then he’ll be with us until Ian goes home.”
“Good.” Saxon wiped both her eyes in the dark. “He needs to feel as normal as possible.”
“We were going to put him in the big guest room, but I’m going to have him bunk with me for a while. I don’t want him to ever feel like he’s alone unless he wants to be.”
Saxon released her grip on Jesse and walked over to Ian’s bed. She reached down and brushed his hair with the palm of her hand.
“Why don’t you just tell him and get it over with?” Jesse asked her.
“Tell him what?”
“That you’re I love with him, always have been and always will be.”
She whipped her head to him. “Shhhh! He may be able to hear you.”
“Just because he’s blind and stupid doesn’t mean the rest of us are.” Jesse said. He stepped to her and took her hand. He kissed it and put it over Ian’s heart. “Tell him.”
“If only I could.”
“Why not?”
She pulled her hand away. “I don’t know, terror in one eye and pain in the other?”
“Better hurry up, or you’re never gonna feel that swift kick in the balls.”
Saxon giggled. “Your Mama said something similar.” She leaned over and kissed Ian on the forehead, then took Jesse by the hand. “Come over here, let’s sit down and talk.”
Jesse allowed himself to be led over to some chairs by a window and sat down with Saxon. She released one of his hands, but not the other. “If I thought Ian were free, I’d fall all over myself draggin’ that man to the alter.”
“But…”
She smiled and looked out the window into the night. “He’s not free, not even as he would say, merely inexpensive.”
“There’s no one else.” Jesse said flatly. “I can guarantee you, there is no one else.”
“I know.” She struggled for the right words. “Ian keeps that part of himself locked up. He struggles just to be a father. All that’s happened, he thinks there’s this cloud of darkness that follows him around.”
Jesse sighed and looked over at the man in the bed hooked up to all the machines. “And with his life, damn it...”
“If he thought he loved me, or knew how I really felt about him he’d push me away so fast…”
“Just because he wouldn’t want you to get hit by the next thunderbolt from the sky.”
She smiled weakly. “And with his track record, hell with mine, how do I prove otherwise?”
“Blindside him.” Jesse squeezed her hand. “Don’t give him a choice. That’s kind of what God did with Ronnie.”
“Clare tried it, and look how that turned out.”
“I never met the woman, but from everything I’ve heard you are definitely not Clare.”
“I think Ian and I are both resigned that the way it is, is how it will always be.” Saxon squeezed Jesse’s hand right back. “But I’ll make us both a promise, if the opportunity ever presents itself for something more, I’ll go for it.”
Jesse smiled. “That’s all I ask.”
“You know, if it wouldn’t make me feel like a cradle robber I just might come after you, young man.” Saxon pinched Jesse’s chin.
“Well, Saxon, if it does anything to encourage you I’ve been known to cruise the Senior Citizen’s Home now and then.” Jesse smiled because he made her laugh. “But I know I’d always be second choice, so as much as it breaks my heart I’ve let that dream go.” He thumbed over Ian. “The comatose dude in traction the only one for you.”
Jesse kissed Saxon’s cheek. “Now, go home. Get some rest. Come back in the morning. I’ll be here. If he even moves a finger I’ll call.”
“I can’t, Jess.” She shook her head. “I can’t leave him.”
“Then go stretch out on the couch in the waiting room.”
“I’m fine.”
Jesse bit his lip and shuffled his feet. “Saxon…” He rubbed his hands through his hair. “Saxon, I…I, uh…” He cleared his throat and struggled. “I…need a little time…alone…with him.”
“Jesse, honey…” Saxon put her hand on his cheek.
“Please…” He sighed. “Just a little time…”
“Of course.” Saxon put her arms around him. She could feel him struggling to hold it in. “I’ll go get Ripley and I a cup of coffee.” Jesse nodded his head. “I’ll be just down the hall if you need me.”
Saxon hugged the boy-man close for just a second longer and then stood. She walked over to Ian, kissed his cheek then quietly let herself out of the room.
Jesse watched her go, staring at the closed door behind her. He didn’t move from his chair for the longest moment. All he could do was sit there and stare at the man in the bed.
He finally took a deep breath and stood. It was only four or five steps to Ian’s bedside but they were the most difficult steps Jesse Shores had ever taken. He stood over the man, hands in pockets just watching him.
There was a chair in the corner near him. He pulled it as close to the bed as he possibly could. He sat down put both his arms on the bed and put his forehead on them. His mind pinged and ponged, almost outracing his heart. When Jesse had control, he put his chin on his forearms and looked again at the closed eyes of his neighbor, his friend.
“I know.” He said so softly, Jesse himself almost couldn’t hear it. “Do you?”
Jesse sat up, his hands folding as if in prayer to his mouth. “I don’t know what to do. I need you. Tell me what to do.”
He stood up, chair scooting back against the wall in a loud thud. He paced up and down the length of the bed, finally going back to chairs by the window and sitting down. He stared out into the darkness for a while and then pulled an old yellowing envelope out of his jacket pocket.
“This fell on the floor.” He looked up at Ian just as if they could have a conversation. “You remember when you where getting that little half penny to give to Saxon, the one from your Aunt Hil’s box? I found some papers there, the ones I waved at you?”
He stood and went to Ian’s bedside again. “You didn’t know what they were, but you were in a hurry so I said I’d put the box back in the closet. Don’t get all anal on me, Ian. I put it back, exactly where it goes, but when I went to turn off the lights and leave, this was laying on the floor half under the bed.”
Jesse took the only hand Ian had free. He held it carefully knowing there were clips and wires attached to it. “Blue took those papers, Ian or at least I think he did. They’re gone. I didn’t remember until after I talked to the police that I still had this one in my back pocket. I hadn’t looked at it then, but when I remembered.”
He let loose of Ian’s hand. He began to tremble as he opened the envelope and slipped out the folded yellowing paper inside. He laid it on Ian’s stomach and took his hand again.
“I don’t know what to do, Ian. I don’t know that it explains what happened or why. In fact, it only makes everything worse. How? Why? What the fuck, man?”
“I’m scared Ian.” Jess put his other hand on Ian’s heart. “Terrified, so open your eyes and talk to me. Whatever, we are in this together. I promise, cause if whatever was in the rest of those envelopes is anything like this, the world is about to get really crazy.”
He made his way to the room, nodding at Ripley, steadfast in front of the door. “Need anything?”
Ripley shook his head. “Another guard dog will be in here in an hour. I’ll get a few hours rest and be back.”
Jesse smiled. “Thank you.”
“Just doing my job.”
“It’s more than that.” Jesse touched the man on the shoulder. “Just thank you.”
Ripley nodded his head and stepped to the side allowing Jesse to push the door open and walk into the darkness. Billy was stretched out on a bed, sleeping soundly. He walked to him, hands in jacket pockets and looked down.
“They gave him a sedative to make him sleep.” Came the voice softly from the corner.
Jesse looked up. “How ‘bout you? Have you gotten any rest at all?”
“I tried.” She sighed. “But I just can’t leave him alone.”
He nodded his head and walked to where she stood, looking down at Ian, battered and swollen almost beyond recognition. He put his arm around her and she leaned in.
“He should be awake by now.” She said. “I’m afraid he’s given up. I’m afraid he can’t take it anymore.”
“He’ll make it.” Jesse said almost to convince himself. “He has to.”
Saxon Allen turned to him and looked in Jesse’s eyes in the dark. “I don’t know that if I where in his place that I wouldn’t just give up, too. There’s been too much, Jesse.”
“He’s got Ronnie now.” He put his hands on her shoulders and tried to look into her eyes. “He’s got us.”
She put her head on his chest. “I’ve seen him, Jesse. I’ve seen him when he thinks I’m not looking, one eye is full of terror and the other is full of pain. He can’t shake it.”
“I’ve seen it, too, Saxon, but there’s something you’re forgetting. When he thinks no one’s watching, when he gets that look in his eyes, the rest of him gets ready for that swift kick in the balls that comes out of nowhere. When that’s gone, that’s when we should start to worry.”
Jesse could feel the woman smile and she pulled him close. He rubbed her back and swayed lightly. “Ronnie knows.” He said. “Jeremy says he thinks he already knew.”
“How did he take it?” She pulled back and asked.
“Just like Ian would, went right into let’s get organized mode. He wanted to come straight to the hospital but Susan talked him into waiting until the morning.”
“He’s going to stay with them?”
“Tonight.” Jess confirmed. “Tomorrow they’ll bring him here and then he’ll be with us until Ian goes home.”
“Good.” Saxon wiped both her eyes in the dark. “He needs to feel as normal as possible.”
“We were going to put him in the big guest room, but I’m going to have him bunk with me for a while. I don’t want him to ever feel like he’s alone unless he wants to be.”
Saxon released her grip on Jesse and walked over to Ian’s bed. She reached down and brushed his hair with the palm of her hand.
“Why don’t you just tell him and get it over with?” Jesse asked her.
“Tell him what?”
“That you’re I love with him, always have been and always will be.”
She whipped her head to him. “Shhhh! He may be able to hear you.”
“Just because he’s blind and stupid doesn’t mean the rest of us are.” Jesse said. He stepped to her and took her hand. He kissed it and put it over Ian’s heart. “Tell him.”
“If only I could.”
“Why not?”
She pulled her hand away. “I don’t know, terror in one eye and pain in the other?”
“Better hurry up, or you’re never gonna feel that swift kick in the balls.”
Saxon giggled. “Your Mama said something similar.” She leaned over and kissed Ian on the forehead, then took Jesse by the hand. “Come over here, let’s sit down and talk.”
Jesse allowed himself to be led over to some chairs by a window and sat down with Saxon. She released one of his hands, but not the other. “If I thought Ian were free, I’d fall all over myself draggin’ that man to the alter.”
“But…”
She smiled and looked out the window into the night. “He’s not free, not even as he would say, merely inexpensive.”
“There’s no one else.” Jesse said flatly. “I can guarantee you, there is no one else.”
“I know.” She struggled for the right words. “Ian keeps that part of himself locked up. He struggles just to be a father. All that’s happened, he thinks there’s this cloud of darkness that follows him around.”
Jesse sighed and looked over at the man in the bed hooked up to all the machines. “And with his life, damn it...”
“If he thought he loved me, or knew how I really felt about him he’d push me away so fast…”
“Just because he wouldn’t want you to get hit by the next thunderbolt from the sky.”
She smiled weakly. “And with his track record, hell with mine, how do I prove otherwise?”
“Blindside him.” Jesse squeezed her hand. “Don’t give him a choice. That’s kind of what God did with Ronnie.”
“Clare tried it, and look how that turned out.”
“I never met the woman, but from everything I’ve heard you are definitely not Clare.”
“I think Ian and I are both resigned that the way it is, is how it will always be.” Saxon squeezed Jesse’s hand right back. “But I’ll make us both a promise, if the opportunity ever presents itself for something more, I’ll go for it.”
Jesse smiled. “That’s all I ask.”
“You know, if it wouldn’t make me feel like a cradle robber I just might come after you, young man.” Saxon pinched Jesse’s chin.
“Well, Saxon, if it does anything to encourage you I’ve been known to cruise the Senior Citizen’s Home now and then.” Jesse smiled because he made her laugh. “But I know I’d always be second choice, so as much as it breaks my heart I’ve let that dream go.” He thumbed over Ian. “The comatose dude in traction the only one for you.”
Jesse kissed Saxon’s cheek. “Now, go home. Get some rest. Come back in the morning. I’ll be here. If he even moves a finger I’ll call.”
“I can’t, Jess.” She shook her head. “I can’t leave him.”
“Then go stretch out on the couch in the waiting room.”
“I’m fine.”
Jesse bit his lip and shuffled his feet. “Saxon…” He rubbed his hands through his hair. “Saxon, I…I, uh…” He cleared his throat and struggled. “I…need a little time…alone…with him.”
“Jesse, honey…” Saxon put her hand on his cheek.
“Please…” He sighed. “Just a little time…”
“Of course.” Saxon put her arms around him. She could feel him struggling to hold it in. “I’ll go get Ripley and I a cup of coffee.” Jesse nodded his head. “I’ll be just down the hall if you need me.”
Saxon hugged the boy-man close for just a second longer and then stood. She walked over to Ian, kissed his cheek then quietly let herself out of the room.
Jesse watched her go, staring at the closed door behind her. He didn’t move from his chair for the longest moment. All he could do was sit there and stare at the man in the bed.
He finally took a deep breath and stood. It was only four or five steps to Ian’s bedside but they were the most difficult steps Jesse Shores had ever taken. He stood over the man, hands in pockets just watching him.
There was a chair in the corner near him. He pulled it as close to the bed as he possibly could. He sat down put both his arms on the bed and put his forehead on them. His mind pinged and ponged, almost outracing his heart. When Jesse had control, he put his chin on his forearms and looked again at the closed eyes of his neighbor, his friend.
“I know.” He said so softly, Jesse himself almost couldn’t hear it. “Do you?”
Jesse sat up, his hands folding as if in prayer to his mouth. “I don’t know what to do. I need you. Tell me what to do.”
He stood up, chair scooting back against the wall in a loud thud. He paced up and down the length of the bed, finally going back to chairs by the window and sitting down. He stared out into the darkness for a while and then pulled an old yellowing envelope out of his jacket pocket.
“This fell on the floor.” He looked up at Ian just as if they could have a conversation. “You remember when you where getting that little half penny to give to Saxon, the one from your Aunt Hil’s box? I found some papers there, the ones I waved at you?”
He stood and went to Ian’s bedside again. “You didn’t know what they were, but you were in a hurry so I said I’d put the box back in the closet. Don’t get all anal on me, Ian. I put it back, exactly where it goes, but when I went to turn off the lights and leave, this was laying on the floor half under the bed.”
Jesse took the only hand Ian had free. He held it carefully knowing there were clips and wires attached to it. “Blue took those papers, Ian or at least I think he did. They’re gone. I didn’t remember until after I talked to the police that I still had this one in my back pocket. I hadn’t looked at it then, but when I remembered.”
He let loose of Ian’s hand. He began to tremble as he opened the envelope and slipped out the folded yellowing paper inside. He laid it on Ian’s stomach and took his hand again.
“I don’t know what to do, Ian. I don’t know that it explains what happened or why. In fact, it only makes everything worse. How? Why? What the fuck, man?”
“I’m scared Ian.” Jess put his other hand on Ian’s heart. “Terrified, so open your eyes and talk to me. Whatever, we are in this together. I promise, cause if whatever was in the rest of those envelopes is anything like this, the world is about to get really crazy.”
Vignette #146: Kellen Jackson
The night was long and his eyes were heavy, but they had been assured that Ian would be all right. The fall wasn’t that far, it was Billy and Blue landing on him that had done most of the damage, he was just lucky that the initial fall hadn’t snapped his neck or spine leaving permanent damage or worse. Ian would be spending some time in the hospital, serious physical therapy ahead of him, but should make a complete recovery, if he’d just wake up.
Billy was the lucky one; the bullet went cleanly through his shoulder. He’d lost quite a bit of blood. Other than a scar he’d be perfectly fine. He would probably even be released in a few days. He insisted on a bed right next to Ian. They’ve practically had to tie him there, even with Reese trying to keep him calm.
Blue Richards came out the unluckiest of all, poor bastard. Kellen had aimed for the shoulder, but for some reason the guy moved at the last minute, maybe to run, maybe to get one last shot at Ian in, but it landed in his chest and exploded in his heart. Before the sucker was barely zipped up in the body bag, news reports hat hit the wires.
No one directly involved cared to even know what was being said. All they needed to know was that their loved ones were going to be alright. For a guy with no family, there sure were a lot of people refusing to leave the hospital until they knew he was out of danger. The Shores all arrived in squads and had had no sleep at all. Saxon managed to get to there just as the armies of reporters figured out which hospital Ian was in.
Blake and Wella managed to get through the throngs and be with the family. Others came and went through the night. Ian would have been shocked and surprised at how many people in such a short time had come to love him. The people getting coffee for one another and pestering every medical looking person who walked by would have been shocked at the one or two that were there for other reasons.
By the time Kellen made it to the hospital, Ian was already in surgery. His lungs had collapsed from being made pincushions by fractured ribs. He had a broken collarbone and clavicle. The doctors informed them that the small piece of cartilage that made up his rotator cuff had pretty much gone by by. It was assumed that the shoulder damage was made from the landing of his initial fall, and the rest when Blue and Billy came tumbling after.
Billy, listed on the insurance as next of kin, was rushed off to surgery himself, so the surgeons made an emergency decision to get it all done at once. Ian’s shattered knee would need to be replaced, but for now, it was determined to let Ian decide what he wanted to do when he was able.
Ironically, the doctor’s warned them that it was the rotator cuff damage that would be the most painful and take the longest recovery time. The surgeons compared it to a man giving birth. Of course, everything depended on Ian waking up, which he didn’t seem to be too concerned about doing.
Kellen had been questioned and grilled for hours. Since his gun fired the shot that had killed Blue Richards, coupled with the fact that he was an ex-cop, he was surprised that it hadn’t taken longer. The L.A.P.D. usually went over every aspect a thousand times when one of their own was involved, just to make sure that any inkling of departmental nepotism would not rear its ugly head.
He had told his side of the story only five hundred times that night. He had just returned home from rounds for the small security firm he ran since leaving the force, and was getting ready for bed. He heard the dog barking at the French doors and looked out to see what had Ralphie in such a tizzy.
In the bright moonlight, he could see that someone had just opened the curtains to Ian Justyn’s loft bedroom, but the dog kept barking. He saw Justyn, who waved at him and then he saw a figure step out of a closet and he saw him fire. By the time he grabbed his gun from the desk drawer and got outside he could see Justyn falling over the balcony and the intruder struggling with Billy.
He assumed at that point that Ian had been shot and was running to the check for signs of life when the other two broke through the balcony railing. Kellen drew his weapon and shouted the cliché “Stop or I’ll shoot!” When he saw the intruder aim his gun again.
Before Kellen could fire the dog attacked the intruder and the man’s gun fired, he didn’t know if it was deliberate or involuntary but Billy went into the pool face down. About that time others started showing up, from where he didn’t know, but three people dived in the pool after Billy.
Kellen saw the intruder aim his gun again, this time at Ian’s head. Kellen yelled drop your weapon, but he saw the man’s finger begin to squeeze so he fired and the man went down.
The five hundredth time seem to do the trick and he was released. Kellen was just glad that he was allowed to put on some pants and they hadn’t handcuffed Ralphie and grilled him in the next room. As far as the other details, all Kellen knew was that both Billy and Ian were alive and had been taken to the hospital.
Peyton Balouche and his partner, a young guy he didn’t know, had been on call. Since Balouche and Kellen had been partners when he was on the force, another officer, Gene Rooney had been brought in to do the questioning. Satisfied that it was an act of defense, Kellen was told he was free to go, but told there may be further questions once more details of the day came to light.
As he left the station, Balouche told him that he shouldn’t worry, Richards was obviously a nut case. The assumption of Richard’s intent was either robbery or rape. Kellen himself had heard Richards make comments about Ian at the party and had been privy to other comments that he had made to his security staff at Open Fields. He knew better than to ascertain his own assumptions during questioning and simply filled in as many details as he could when they asked about his relationship with the victims.
Balouche finally got around to acknowledging their history when he asked how he was doing. Kellen said fine, but was still uncomfortable with the way things had ended with Balouche, not the force. “You still see Amanda and Barbie?” Kellen could see that he hated himself for even asking.
“About once a week.” He acknowledged.
Balouche sneered. “I’ll be in touch if we need anything more.” He turned to his partner, “Come on Mitchell, we’ve got paperwork you need to do.” And was gone.
Kellen saw the young partner roll his eyes and follow the man. Kellen, shook his had, knowing that this Mitchell must be the latest in a series of partner’s for Balouche. Kellen himself had been the next in a long line, but for some odd reason they clicked and were partners for three years, before Kellen left the force.
Kellen Jackson had come from a long line of policemen. His Grandfather was almost legendary on the force, killed in the line of duty at age 45. His father Walter Jackson, had also been a cop, not as decorated, but might have been had he not been gunned down at 39. On Kellen’s 35th birthday he was narrowly missed by bullet in a shoot out and decided not to press the luck of his lineage and resigned. That was a little over a year ago, and the world was now a different place.
It was Amanda who suggested that Kellen look into security. He had long toyed with a system that combined video surveillance with a pc. Amanda was doing well, her romance novels selling like hotcakes, and she offered to back him. While he rousted up business he got a job with a small firm that contracted bodyguards and bouncers for local clubs.
The guys running the company spent more time snorting the profits up their noses than actually hiring and training people. Within weeks Kellen found he had a knack for it and offered the cokeheads a good price for the business. To his surprise they took him up on the offer. By the end of that year, Kellen had tripled the business and was actually turning down clients.
A few months ago, Kellen had been talking with a couple who ran a hair salon that had been robbed four times in the last six months. While there he started chatting with a sweet old lady who said her husband had past away and couple that lived in the other house on her property had moved to New Orleans.
She asked him if he knew any of his employees that might be interested in renting the house. It would make her feel safer knowing that a trained security officer lived on her property. He took her phone number and said he’d let her know if any of his people needed a place to live.
While he was enjoying his new career, his personal life left him emptier and emptier. He now only shared his bed with Ralphie. He had bought him for Amanda for Christmas, but as usual she got bored with the dog by New Year’s and Kellen ended up bonding with it.
He and Amanda were already in the process of getting a divorce. She saw no reason to stay married and Kellen suddenly found no reason to stay. They were friends, but Amanda had found what she wanted was a twenty something named Barbie, Balouche’s ex-wife, and it was time for Kellen to do the same.
That weekend he called the number the lady had given him and he found himself, Ralphie in tow, in a nice little furnished bungalow with two stories and a car port. It was all he needed.
Upon his moving into his new rental, Mrs. Elysian told him that she was having her home renovated and she hoped that the noise wouldn’t bother him. It seemed over night that the work was done, the second story wall being removed and replaced with glass windows.
Don’t get him wrong he had learned to love Ms. Elysian, but when he first got a look at the completed project, giving him ample view into her master bedroom from his he couldn’t help but think of the old adage: “People who live in glass houses should dress in the basement.”
He worked night hours, so daytime was for sleeping, playing with the dog and chatting with Miss Elizabeth, as she insisted he call her. He often joined her for afternoon tea, and she went on and on about how she would soon be leaving but for him not to worry she had seen to it that nothing changed. She was depending on him to keep the place protected even after the young man moved in.
Shortly after the renovations had been completed, she informed him that this would be their last tea together. She was urgently needed by a cousin who had taken ill in Iowa and she had sold the place but, she was sure that he and the nice young man who would be moving in by at the first of the month would get along fine. Kellen was to continue depositing his rent check into the account as always. She would call him if she needed anything. That was the last he saw of her.
Now he sat with a group of others, all new friends, bonding even tighter over a senseless tragedy. Kellen sat in a chair at the end of Ian’s bed just staring at the black and blue young man in a drugged sleep with wires monitoring his progress and blood slightly seeping from surgical wounds into fresh gauze.
Why would someone try to kill this man? Why would a bartender from Open Fields, whom he knew on a first name basis and genuinely liked hide in a closet with a pistol? If it was a robbery, he could have done that so easily anytime during the day, and gotten away with it, too many people and too many witnesses to accurately pinpoint a burglar.
He then thought about the stalker scenario. He knew Blue Richards to be straight, but the man had openly admitted that he wanted Ian sexually. But Blue literally had hours in which to force himself on Ian, and probably without company in the house. Why did the guy hide in that closet? It made absolutely no sense whatsoever, and what the hell was this Darla Hutton business? They had all heard it loud, bloody, and clear.
Tippy had returned from the commissary with a paper tray full of coffees and teas for everyone. She handed them out motherly and made sure that the room full of her children, both real and adoptive, were taken care of. She walked over to the bed and gingerly kissed Ian on the forehead and sat in the chair beside Kellen patting him on the leg.
“You doing okay, Sugar?” She asked.
“Yep.”
“You’ve had no sleep whatsoever have you?”
“Have you?”
“I stole a few minutes here and there. Why don’t you try to close your eyes for a few minutes? You know we’ll let you know if there is any change.”
“Thanks, Tippy, but I can’t just now. Too many unanswered questions in my head.”
“Still a cop in your mind, honey?”
“Guess I always will be.”
“We’ll talk about that sometime.”
Kellen smiled and patted her knee. He knew she wasn’t being nosey. This woman just wanted him to know that although she barely knew him, he was already part of her world and she would be there for him. It made Kellen feel good. He hadn’t felt that way in a long time.
“Oh, I have Inez looking after Ralphie.” She said he was restless, but fine. “You know he and the cat both tried to get in the ambulance with Ian?”
“He seems to have taken right to him.”
“Just like the rest of us.” She reached for a little white bag the she had brought up from the commissary. “Want half the paper?”
“Maybe later.” Kellen just slumped in the chair and stared at Ian. He started to drift off until Tippy touched his arm.
“Honey, I think you’ll want to read this.”
He opened his eyes to see the front page in his lap. The bold headline read, “Hot TV Exec in Grave Condition after Home Invasion Attack”. Kellen sat up and brought it closer to his eyes. The article stated that Ian Justyn was fighting for his life in an undisclosed hospital after he and a friend walked in a burglary in process.
The details were picked over, neglecting the party that afternoon or that the burglar had been an attendant. It did say that the burglar was shot and killed by a neighbor, a former cop. It stated that the police had already closed the case, burglary being the reason for the scuffle, the only unanswered question being the meaning behind the burglar’s final words.
The rest of the article, continued on page four, went into details of HRT and Darla Hutton. Her career was detailed including her mysterious disappearance and the presumption that she and married co-star James Redfield had run off together to live happily, if anonymously, ever after, just like one of their movies.
It touched on almost all aspects of the now created legend, a missing diary that may or may not have ever existed and Redfield’s wife’s suicide years later. There was also the mention that David Turner, the assumed sole survivor of the trio who founded HRT had refused to declare any of them dead. Both Redfield and Hutton still had equal shares of stock and all monies over the years were still siphoned into accounts for each of them.
“Does that seem as stupid to you as it does me?” Tippy asked.
“There is no way this incident was a failed burglary attempt.” Kellen flatly said slamming the paper down. “Something else went on.”
“Sugar, I just assumed that it was, you know…” Tippy tried to explain genteelly, “…that poor man wanted to force Ian into…you know…having sex.”
Kellen looked Tippy straight in the eyes. “Tippy, it wasn’t that either. I saw Blue come out of the upstairs closet and point a gun at the back of Ian’s head. If Ian hadn’t bent down to swat at the cat, that first bullet wouldn’t have hit the glass.”
Tippy’s mouth dropped open, “Oh no, Kellen, who would want to deliberately do something like that to Ian? He doesn’t have an enemy in the world, except maybe that cow he used to live with…”
“Tippy, there is no question; Blue Richards was hiding in that closet waiting to get a clear shot. I have only two questions; why and why are the police so quick to close this case?”
“But if they have decided it was a burglary and poor Blue is dead, they aren’t gonna bother…they won’t be protecting Ian if…Kellen, sugar…?”
“That’s why Ripley is here.” Kellen assured her. “Someone will be around him twenty four seven, until we know what really happened, and I may be over reacting, but until then, let’s just make sure that Ian and all witnesses are safe.” He headed toward the door with the rest of the paper.
“Kellen, where are you going?”
“I know exactly where to go to get some answers.” And he did, straight to Peyton Balouche’s desk, where he slammed the paper down, pointed and demanded, “What is this shit, asshole?”
“Haven’t read it, but I’m sure it’s like all the other crap on the news wire and TV. Your buddy and his friend walked in on a burglar, burglar had a gun, you had a gun, bang bang burglar go bye bye.”
“Bullshit!”
Peyton looked him in the eye. “You’re right, it’s bullshit. The network is pretty powerful and they prefer this variation to the real truth to keep their golden boy out of hot water.”
“Huh?”
“Look, you know the truth as much as I do. The little nancy boys were having an orgy and someone got jealous. More than likely this Richards character, who several of the witnesses said they heard mention wanting to have sex with your buddy, has likely been stalking him.”
“Stalking?”
“His girlfriend says that he’s been talking pretty obsessively about the dude, she even told Justyn to let the guy have him and put him out of his misery. We found footprints matching the perp and semen on the grass. He’s been hiding in the bushes and playing pound the sausage from a distance for a while now…”
“Well that’s possible, but it still doesn’t explain why he claim out of that closet and aimed a gun right at Ian’s head. He intended to kill him, not screw him.”
“Don’t go blowing this out of proportion, Kel. Richards probably just decided if he couldn’t have the dude, no one could. Probably had been hiding in the closet for hours and decide to off him when he didn’t show up for a promised rendezvous.”
“That still doesn’t make sense.”
“Level with me, Kel…you been doin’ this Ian guy, too?”
“Jealous?”
He smiled, “Maybe…the case is closed. Media thinks it was a botched burglary, network honchos get a hero instead of another scandal and they get off our backs…”
“Uh uh. There is something more to this. It’s too easy…”
“It’s open and shut. Stop trying to make an Agatha Christie out of a Darla Hutton...”
“And that’s another thing….”
“Oh please, if he’d been plugged at Lincoln Center, he’d have probably mooed Judy Garland.”
“Okay, what about the clothes? Where did he get the black clothes?”
“The ski mask belonged to Justyn, even had his widdle name stitched in it.”
“So where are Richards’ clothes and his cell phone for that matter? He was dressed in khaki shorts and a white tank top at the party and chatted endlessly on his cell.”
“He went home and changed.”
“How’d he get there and back? His girlfriend left alone.”
“Taxi or maybe even Justyn himself.”
“Justyn left the house with Saxon Allen in her car. No taxis came by either. Between the six people at the hospital we can give you times and names of everyone who came and went in that house since 4 PM on Thursday Night until the incident.”
“Richards and Justyn were about the same size, clothes may have come from the same place the ski mask did.”
“Then where are Richard’s clothes?”
“Jackson, don’t go making more out of this than it is. Everyone but you is happy. Case closed!”
Kellen turned to storm out of the office and ran into Det. Mitchell. “You the new partner?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let me give you a piece of advice, pal, something’s not right with this picture. If you don’t want to be taken down with Balouche, you better figure it out before I do.” and Kellen stormed out.
Billy was the lucky one; the bullet went cleanly through his shoulder. He’d lost quite a bit of blood. Other than a scar he’d be perfectly fine. He would probably even be released in a few days. He insisted on a bed right next to Ian. They’ve practically had to tie him there, even with Reese trying to keep him calm.
Blue Richards came out the unluckiest of all, poor bastard. Kellen had aimed for the shoulder, but for some reason the guy moved at the last minute, maybe to run, maybe to get one last shot at Ian in, but it landed in his chest and exploded in his heart. Before the sucker was barely zipped up in the body bag, news reports hat hit the wires.
No one directly involved cared to even know what was being said. All they needed to know was that their loved ones were going to be alright. For a guy with no family, there sure were a lot of people refusing to leave the hospital until they knew he was out of danger. The Shores all arrived in squads and had had no sleep at all. Saxon managed to get to there just as the armies of reporters figured out which hospital Ian was in.
Blake and Wella managed to get through the throngs and be with the family. Others came and went through the night. Ian would have been shocked and surprised at how many people in such a short time had come to love him. The people getting coffee for one another and pestering every medical looking person who walked by would have been shocked at the one or two that were there for other reasons.
By the time Kellen made it to the hospital, Ian was already in surgery. His lungs had collapsed from being made pincushions by fractured ribs. He had a broken collarbone and clavicle. The doctors informed them that the small piece of cartilage that made up his rotator cuff had pretty much gone by by. It was assumed that the shoulder damage was made from the landing of his initial fall, and the rest when Blue and Billy came tumbling after.
Billy, listed on the insurance as next of kin, was rushed off to surgery himself, so the surgeons made an emergency decision to get it all done at once. Ian’s shattered knee would need to be replaced, but for now, it was determined to let Ian decide what he wanted to do when he was able.
Ironically, the doctor’s warned them that it was the rotator cuff damage that would be the most painful and take the longest recovery time. The surgeons compared it to a man giving birth. Of course, everything depended on Ian waking up, which he didn’t seem to be too concerned about doing.
Kellen had been questioned and grilled for hours. Since his gun fired the shot that had killed Blue Richards, coupled with the fact that he was an ex-cop, he was surprised that it hadn’t taken longer. The L.A.P.D. usually went over every aspect a thousand times when one of their own was involved, just to make sure that any inkling of departmental nepotism would not rear its ugly head.
He had told his side of the story only five hundred times that night. He had just returned home from rounds for the small security firm he ran since leaving the force, and was getting ready for bed. He heard the dog barking at the French doors and looked out to see what had Ralphie in such a tizzy.
In the bright moonlight, he could see that someone had just opened the curtains to Ian Justyn’s loft bedroom, but the dog kept barking. He saw Justyn, who waved at him and then he saw a figure step out of a closet and he saw him fire. By the time he grabbed his gun from the desk drawer and got outside he could see Justyn falling over the balcony and the intruder struggling with Billy.
He assumed at that point that Ian had been shot and was running to the check for signs of life when the other two broke through the balcony railing. Kellen drew his weapon and shouted the cliché “Stop or I’ll shoot!” When he saw the intruder aim his gun again.
Before Kellen could fire the dog attacked the intruder and the man’s gun fired, he didn’t know if it was deliberate or involuntary but Billy went into the pool face down. About that time others started showing up, from where he didn’t know, but three people dived in the pool after Billy.
Kellen saw the intruder aim his gun again, this time at Ian’s head. Kellen yelled drop your weapon, but he saw the man’s finger begin to squeeze so he fired and the man went down.
The five hundredth time seem to do the trick and he was released. Kellen was just glad that he was allowed to put on some pants and they hadn’t handcuffed Ralphie and grilled him in the next room. As far as the other details, all Kellen knew was that both Billy and Ian were alive and had been taken to the hospital.
Peyton Balouche and his partner, a young guy he didn’t know, had been on call. Since Balouche and Kellen had been partners when he was on the force, another officer, Gene Rooney had been brought in to do the questioning. Satisfied that it was an act of defense, Kellen was told he was free to go, but told there may be further questions once more details of the day came to light.
As he left the station, Balouche told him that he shouldn’t worry, Richards was obviously a nut case. The assumption of Richard’s intent was either robbery or rape. Kellen himself had heard Richards make comments about Ian at the party and had been privy to other comments that he had made to his security staff at Open Fields. He knew better than to ascertain his own assumptions during questioning and simply filled in as many details as he could when they asked about his relationship with the victims.
Balouche finally got around to acknowledging their history when he asked how he was doing. Kellen said fine, but was still uncomfortable with the way things had ended with Balouche, not the force. “You still see Amanda and Barbie?” Kellen could see that he hated himself for even asking.
“About once a week.” He acknowledged.
Balouche sneered. “I’ll be in touch if we need anything more.” He turned to his partner, “Come on Mitchell, we’ve got paperwork you need to do.” And was gone.
Kellen saw the young partner roll his eyes and follow the man. Kellen, shook his had, knowing that this Mitchell must be the latest in a series of partner’s for Balouche. Kellen himself had been the next in a long line, but for some odd reason they clicked and were partners for three years, before Kellen left the force.
Kellen Jackson had come from a long line of policemen. His Grandfather was almost legendary on the force, killed in the line of duty at age 45. His father Walter Jackson, had also been a cop, not as decorated, but might have been had he not been gunned down at 39. On Kellen’s 35th birthday he was narrowly missed by bullet in a shoot out and decided not to press the luck of his lineage and resigned. That was a little over a year ago, and the world was now a different place.
It was Amanda who suggested that Kellen look into security. He had long toyed with a system that combined video surveillance with a pc. Amanda was doing well, her romance novels selling like hotcakes, and she offered to back him. While he rousted up business he got a job with a small firm that contracted bodyguards and bouncers for local clubs.
The guys running the company spent more time snorting the profits up their noses than actually hiring and training people. Within weeks Kellen found he had a knack for it and offered the cokeheads a good price for the business. To his surprise they took him up on the offer. By the end of that year, Kellen had tripled the business and was actually turning down clients.
A few months ago, Kellen had been talking with a couple who ran a hair salon that had been robbed four times in the last six months. While there he started chatting with a sweet old lady who said her husband had past away and couple that lived in the other house on her property had moved to New Orleans.
She asked him if he knew any of his employees that might be interested in renting the house. It would make her feel safer knowing that a trained security officer lived on her property. He took her phone number and said he’d let her know if any of his people needed a place to live.
While he was enjoying his new career, his personal life left him emptier and emptier. He now only shared his bed with Ralphie. He had bought him for Amanda for Christmas, but as usual she got bored with the dog by New Year’s and Kellen ended up bonding with it.
He and Amanda were already in the process of getting a divorce. She saw no reason to stay married and Kellen suddenly found no reason to stay. They were friends, but Amanda had found what she wanted was a twenty something named Barbie, Balouche’s ex-wife, and it was time for Kellen to do the same.
That weekend he called the number the lady had given him and he found himself, Ralphie in tow, in a nice little furnished bungalow with two stories and a car port. It was all he needed.
Upon his moving into his new rental, Mrs. Elysian told him that she was having her home renovated and she hoped that the noise wouldn’t bother him. It seemed over night that the work was done, the second story wall being removed and replaced with glass windows.
Don’t get him wrong he had learned to love Ms. Elysian, but when he first got a look at the completed project, giving him ample view into her master bedroom from his he couldn’t help but think of the old adage: “People who live in glass houses should dress in the basement.”
He worked night hours, so daytime was for sleeping, playing with the dog and chatting with Miss Elizabeth, as she insisted he call her. He often joined her for afternoon tea, and she went on and on about how she would soon be leaving but for him not to worry she had seen to it that nothing changed. She was depending on him to keep the place protected even after the young man moved in.
Shortly after the renovations had been completed, she informed him that this would be their last tea together. She was urgently needed by a cousin who had taken ill in Iowa and she had sold the place but, she was sure that he and the nice young man who would be moving in by at the first of the month would get along fine. Kellen was to continue depositing his rent check into the account as always. She would call him if she needed anything. That was the last he saw of her.
Now he sat with a group of others, all new friends, bonding even tighter over a senseless tragedy. Kellen sat in a chair at the end of Ian’s bed just staring at the black and blue young man in a drugged sleep with wires monitoring his progress and blood slightly seeping from surgical wounds into fresh gauze.
Why would someone try to kill this man? Why would a bartender from Open Fields, whom he knew on a first name basis and genuinely liked hide in a closet with a pistol? If it was a robbery, he could have done that so easily anytime during the day, and gotten away with it, too many people and too many witnesses to accurately pinpoint a burglar.
He then thought about the stalker scenario. He knew Blue Richards to be straight, but the man had openly admitted that he wanted Ian sexually. But Blue literally had hours in which to force himself on Ian, and probably without company in the house. Why did the guy hide in that closet? It made absolutely no sense whatsoever, and what the hell was this Darla Hutton business? They had all heard it loud, bloody, and clear.
Tippy had returned from the commissary with a paper tray full of coffees and teas for everyone. She handed them out motherly and made sure that the room full of her children, both real and adoptive, were taken care of. She walked over to the bed and gingerly kissed Ian on the forehead and sat in the chair beside Kellen patting him on the leg.
“You doing okay, Sugar?” She asked.
“Yep.”
“You’ve had no sleep whatsoever have you?”
“Have you?”
“I stole a few minutes here and there. Why don’t you try to close your eyes for a few minutes? You know we’ll let you know if there is any change.”
“Thanks, Tippy, but I can’t just now. Too many unanswered questions in my head.”
“Still a cop in your mind, honey?”
“Guess I always will be.”
“We’ll talk about that sometime.”
Kellen smiled and patted her knee. He knew she wasn’t being nosey. This woman just wanted him to know that although she barely knew him, he was already part of her world and she would be there for him. It made Kellen feel good. He hadn’t felt that way in a long time.
“Oh, I have Inez looking after Ralphie.” She said he was restless, but fine. “You know he and the cat both tried to get in the ambulance with Ian?”
“He seems to have taken right to him.”
“Just like the rest of us.” She reached for a little white bag the she had brought up from the commissary. “Want half the paper?”
“Maybe later.” Kellen just slumped in the chair and stared at Ian. He started to drift off until Tippy touched his arm.
“Honey, I think you’ll want to read this.”
He opened his eyes to see the front page in his lap. The bold headline read, “Hot TV Exec in Grave Condition after Home Invasion Attack”. Kellen sat up and brought it closer to his eyes. The article stated that Ian Justyn was fighting for his life in an undisclosed hospital after he and a friend walked in a burglary in process.
The details were picked over, neglecting the party that afternoon or that the burglar had been an attendant. It did say that the burglar was shot and killed by a neighbor, a former cop. It stated that the police had already closed the case, burglary being the reason for the scuffle, the only unanswered question being the meaning behind the burglar’s final words.
The rest of the article, continued on page four, went into details of HRT and Darla Hutton. Her career was detailed including her mysterious disappearance and the presumption that she and married co-star James Redfield had run off together to live happily, if anonymously, ever after, just like one of their movies.
It touched on almost all aspects of the now created legend, a missing diary that may or may not have ever existed and Redfield’s wife’s suicide years later. There was also the mention that David Turner, the assumed sole survivor of the trio who founded HRT had refused to declare any of them dead. Both Redfield and Hutton still had equal shares of stock and all monies over the years were still siphoned into accounts for each of them.
“Does that seem as stupid to you as it does me?” Tippy asked.
“There is no way this incident was a failed burglary attempt.” Kellen flatly said slamming the paper down. “Something else went on.”
“Sugar, I just assumed that it was, you know…” Tippy tried to explain genteelly, “…that poor man wanted to force Ian into…you know…having sex.”
Kellen looked Tippy straight in the eyes. “Tippy, it wasn’t that either. I saw Blue come out of the upstairs closet and point a gun at the back of Ian’s head. If Ian hadn’t bent down to swat at the cat, that first bullet wouldn’t have hit the glass.”
Tippy’s mouth dropped open, “Oh no, Kellen, who would want to deliberately do something like that to Ian? He doesn’t have an enemy in the world, except maybe that cow he used to live with…”
“Tippy, there is no question; Blue Richards was hiding in that closet waiting to get a clear shot. I have only two questions; why and why are the police so quick to close this case?”
“But if they have decided it was a burglary and poor Blue is dead, they aren’t gonna bother…they won’t be protecting Ian if…Kellen, sugar…?”
“That’s why Ripley is here.” Kellen assured her. “Someone will be around him twenty four seven, until we know what really happened, and I may be over reacting, but until then, let’s just make sure that Ian and all witnesses are safe.” He headed toward the door with the rest of the paper.
“Kellen, where are you going?”
“I know exactly where to go to get some answers.” And he did, straight to Peyton Balouche’s desk, where he slammed the paper down, pointed and demanded, “What is this shit, asshole?”
“Haven’t read it, but I’m sure it’s like all the other crap on the news wire and TV. Your buddy and his friend walked in on a burglar, burglar had a gun, you had a gun, bang bang burglar go bye bye.”
“Bullshit!”
Peyton looked him in the eye. “You’re right, it’s bullshit. The network is pretty powerful and they prefer this variation to the real truth to keep their golden boy out of hot water.”
“Huh?”
“Look, you know the truth as much as I do. The little nancy boys were having an orgy and someone got jealous. More than likely this Richards character, who several of the witnesses said they heard mention wanting to have sex with your buddy, has likely been stalking him.”
“Stalking?”
“His girlfriend says that he’s been talking pretty obsessively about the dude, she even told Justyn to let the guy have him and put him out of his misery. We found footprints matching the perp and semen on the grass. He’s been hiding in the bushes and playing pound the sausage from a distance for a while now…”
“Well that’s possible, but it still doesn’t explain why he claim out of that closet and aimed a gun right at Ian’s head. He intended to kill him, not screw him.”
“Don’t go blowing this out of proportion, Kel. Richards probably just decided if he couldn’t have the dude, no one could. Probably had been hiding in the closet for hours and decide to off him when he didn’t show up for a promised rendezvous.”
“That still doesn’t make sense.”
“Level with me, Kel…you been doin’ this Ian guy, too?”
“Jealous?”
He smiled, “Maybe…the case is closed. Media thinks it was a botched burglary, network honchos get a hero instead of another scandal and they get off our backs…”
“Uh uh. There is something more to this. It’s too easy…”
“It’s open and shut. Stop trying to make an Agatha Christie out of a Darla Hutton...”
“And that’s another thing….”
“Oh please, if he’d been plugged at Lincoln Center, he’d have probably mooed Judy Garland.”
“Okay, what about the clothes? Where did he get the black clothes?”
“The ski mask belonged to Justyn, even had his widdle name stitched in it.”
“So where are Richards’ clothes and his cell phone for that matter? He was dressed in khaki shorts and a white tank top at the party and chatted endlessly on his cell.”
“He went home and changed.”
“How’d he get there and back? His girlfriend left alone.”
“Taxi or maybe even Justyn himself.”
“Justyn left the house with Saxon Allen in her car. No taxis came by either. Between the six people at the hospital we can give you times and names of everyone who came and went in that house since 4 PM on Thursday Night until the incident.”
“Richards and Justyn were about the same size, clothes may have come from the same place the ski mask did.”
“Then where are Richard’s clothes?”
“Jackson, don’t go making more out of this than it is. Everyone but you is happy. Case closed!”
Kellen turned to storm out of the office and ran into Det. Mitchell. “You the new partner?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let me give you a piece of advice, pal, something’s not right with this picture. If you don’t want to be taken down with Balouche, you better figure it out before I do.” and Kellen stormed out.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Chapter 28: Like Hell
The night was long and his eyes were heavy, but they had been assured that Ian would be all right. The fall wasn’t that far, it was Billy and Blue landing on him that had caused most of the injuries. He was just lucky that the initial fall hadn’t snapped his neck or spine leaving permanent damage or worse. Ian would be spending some time in the hospital, serious physical therapy ahead of him, but should make a complete recovery, if he’d just wake up.
Billy was the lucky one; the bullet went cleanly through his shoulder. He’d lost quite a bit of blood. Other than a scar he’d be perfectly fine. He would probably even be released in a few days. He insisted on a bed right next to Ian. They practically had to tie him there, even with Reese trying to keep him calm.
Blue Richards came out the unluckiest of all, poor bastard. Kellen had aimed for the shoulder, but for some reason the guy moved at the last minute, maybe to run, maybe to get one last shot at Ian in, but it landed in his chest and exploded in his heart. Before the sucker was barely zipped up in the body bag, news reports had hit the wires.
No one directly involved cared to even know what was being said. All they needed to know was that their loved ones were going to be fine. For a guy with no family, there sure were a lot of people refusing to leave the hospital until they knew he was out of danger. The Shores all arrived in squads and had had no sleep at all. Saxon managed to get to there just as the armies of reporters figured out which hospital Ian was in.
Blake and Wella managed to get through the throngs and be with the family. Others came and went through the night. Ian would have been shocked and surprised at how many people in such a short time had come to love him. The people getting coffee for one another and pestering every medical looking person who walked by would have been shocked at the one or two that were there for other reasons.
By the time Kellen made it to the hospital, Ian was already in surgery. His lungs had collapsed from being made pincushions by fractured ribs. He had a broken collarbone and clavicle. The doctors informed them that the small piece of cartilage that made up his rotator cuff had pretty much gone by by. It was assumed that the shoulder damage was made from the landing of his initial fall, and the rest when Blue and Billy came tumbling after.
Billy, listed on the insurance as next of kin, was rushed off to surgery himself, so the surgeons made an emergency decision to get it all done at once. Ian’s shattered knee would need to be replaced, but for now, it was determined to let Ian decide what he wanted to do when he was able.
Ironically, the doctor’s warned them that it was the rotator cuff damage that would be the most painful and take the longest recovery time. The surgeons compared it to a man giving birth. Of course, everything depended on Ian waking up, which he didn’t seem to be too concerned about doing.
Kellen had been questioned and grilled for hours. Since his gun fired the shot that had killed Blue Richards, coupled with the fact that he was an ex-cop, he was surprised that it hadn’t taken longer. The L.A.P.D. usually went over every aspect a thousand times when one of their own was involved, just to make sure that any inkling of departmental nepotism would not rear its ugly head.
He had told his side of the story only five hundred times that night. He had just returned home from rounds for the small security firm he ran since leaving the force, and was getting ready for bed. He heard the dog barking at the French doors and looked out to see what had Ralphie in such a tizzy.
In the bright moonlight, he could see that someone had just opened the curtains to Ian Justyn’s loft bedroom, but the dog kept barking. He saw Justyn, who waved at him and then he saw a figure step out of a closet and he saw him fire. By the time he grabbed his gun from the desk drawer and got outside he could see Justyn falling over the balcony and the intruder struggling with Billy.
He assumed at that point that Ian had been shot and was running to the check for signs of life when the other two broke through the balcony railing. Kellen drew his weapon and shouted the cliché “Stop or I’ll shoot!” When he saw the intruder aim his gun again.
Before Kellen could fire the dog attacked the intruder and the man’s gun fired, he didn’t know if it was deliberate or involuntary but Billy went into the pool face down. About that time others started showing up, from where he didn’t know, but three people dived in the pool after Billy.
Kellen saw the intruder aim his gun again, this time at Ian’s head. Kellen yelled drop your weapon, but he saw the man’s finger begin to squeeze so he fired and the man went down.
The five hundredth time seem to do the trick and he was released. Kellen was glad that he was allowed to put on some pants and they hadn’t handcuffed Ralphie and grilled him in the next room. As far as the other details, all Kellen knew was that both Billy and Ian were alive and had been taken to the hospital.
Peyton Balouche and his partner, a young guy he didn’t know, had been on call. Since Balouche and Kellen had been partners when he was on the force, another officer, Gene Rooney had been brought in to do the questioning. Satisfied that it was an act of defense, Kellen was told he was free to go, but told there may be further questions once more details of the day came to light.
As he left the station, Balouche told him that he shouldn’t worry, Richards was obviously a nut case. The assumption of Richard’s intent was either robbery or rape. Kellen himself had heard Richards make comments about Ian at the party and had been privy to other comments that he had made to his security staff at Open Fields. He knew better than to ascertain his own assumptions during questioning and simply filled in as many details as he could when they asked about his relationship with the victims.
Balouche finally got around to acknowledging their history when he asked how he was doing. Kellen said fine, but was still uncomfortable with the way things had ended with Balouche, not the force. “You still see Amanda and Barbie?” Kellen could see that he hated himself for even asking.
“About once a week.” He acknowledged.
“Lezzies,” Balouche sneered. “I’ll be in touch if we need anything more.” He turned to his partner, “Come on Mitchell, we’ve got paperwork you need to do.” And was gone.
Kellen saw the young partner roll his eyes and follow the man. Kellen, shook his had, knowing that this Mitchell must be the latest in a series of partner’s for Balouche. Kellen himself had been the next in a long line, but for some odd reason they clicked and were partners for three years, before Kellen left the force.
Kellen Jackson himself had come from a long line of policemen. His Grandfather was almost legendary on the force, killed in the line of duty at age 45. His father Walter Jackson, had also been a cop, not as decorated, but might have been had he not been gunned down at 39. On Kellen’s 34th birthday he was narrowly missed by bullet in a shoot out and decided not to press the luck of his lineage and resigned. That was a little over a year ago, and the world was now a different place.
It was Amanda who suggested that Kellen look into security. He had long toyed with a system that combined video surveillance with a pc. Amanda was doing well, her romance novels selling like hotcakes, and she offered to back him. While he rousted up business he got a job with a small firm that contracted bodyguards and bouncers for local clubs.
The guys running the company spent more time snorting the profits up their noses than actually hiring and training people. Within weeks Kellen found he had a knack for it and offered the cokeheads a good price for the business. To his surprise they took him up on the offer. By the end of that year, Kellen had tripled the business and was actually turning down clients.
A few months ago, Kellen had been talking with a couple that ran a hair salon and had been robbed four times in the last six months. While there he started chatting with a sweet old lady who said her husband had past away and couple that lived in the other house on her property had moved to New Orleans.
She asked him if he knew any of his employees that might be interested in renting the house. It would make her feel safer knowing that a trained security officer lived on her property. He took her phone number and said he’d let her know if any of his people needed a place to live.
While he was enjoying his new career, his personal life left him emptier and emptier. He now only shared his bed with Ralphie. He had bought him for Amanda for Christmas, but as usual she got bored with the dog by New Year’s and Kellen ended up bonding with it.
He and Amanda were already in the process of getting a divorce. She saw no reason to stay married and Kellen suddenly found no reason to stay. They were friends, but Amanda had found what she wanted was a twenty something named Barbie, Balouche’s ex-wife, and it was time for Kellen to do the same.
That weekend he called the number the lady had given him and he found himself, Ralphie in tow, in a nice little furnished bungalow with two stories and a car port. It was all he needed.
Upon his moving into his new rental, Mrs. Elysian told him that she was having her home renovated and she hoped that the noise wouldn’t bother him. It seemed over night that the work was done, the second story wall being removed and replaced with glass windows.
Don’t get him wrong he had learned to love Ms. Elysian, but when he first got a look at the completed project, giving him ample view into her master bedroom from his he couldn’t help but think of the old adage: “People who live in glass houses should dress in the basement.”
He worked night hours, so daytime was for sleeping, playing with the dog and chatting with Miss Elizabeth, as she insisted he call her. He often joined her for afternoon tea, and she went on and on about how she would soon be leaving but for him not to worry she had seen to it that nothing changed. She was depending on him to keep the place protected even after the young man moved in.
Shortly after the renovations had been completed, she informed him that this would be their last tea together. She was urgently needed by a cousin who had taken ill in Iowa and she had sold the place but, she was sure that he and the nice young man who would be moving in by at the first of the month would get along fine. Kellen was to continue depositing his rent check into the account as always. She would call him if she needed anything. That was the last he saw of her.
Now he sat with a group of others, all new friends, bonding even tighter over a senseless tragedy. Kellen sat in a chair at the end of Ian’s bed just staring at the black and blue young man in a drugged sleep with wires monitoring his progress and blood slightly seeping from surgical wounds into fresh gauze.
Why would someone try to kill this man? Why would a bartender from Open Fields, whom he knew on a first name basis and genuinely liked hide in a closet with a pistol? If it was a robbery, he could have done that so easily anytime during the day, and gotten away with it, too many people and too many witnesses to accurately pinpoint a burglar.
He then thought about the stalker scenario. He knew Blue Richards to be straight, but the man had openly admitted that he wanted Ian sexually. But Blue literally had hours in which to force himself on Ian, and probably without company in the house. Why did the guy hide in that closet? It made absolutely no sense whatsoever, and what the hell was this Darla Hutton business? They had all heard it loud, bloody, and clear.
Tippy had returned from the commissary with a paper tray full of coffees and teas for everyone. She handed them out motherly and made sure that the room full of her children, both real and adoptive, were taken care of. She walked over to the bed and gingerly kissed Ian on the forehead and sat in the chair beside Kellen patting him on the leg.
“You doing okay, Sugar?” She asked.
“Yep.”
“You’ve had no sleep whatsoever have you?”
“Have you?”
“I stole a few minutes here and there. Why don’t you try to close your eyes for a few minutes? You know we’ll let you know if there is any change.”
“Thanks, Tippy, but I can’t just now. Too many unanswered questions in my head.”
“Still a cop in your mind, honey?”
“Guess I always will be.”
“We’ll talk about that sometime.”
Kellen smiled and squeezed her hand, holding firmly to his. He knew she wasn’t being nosey. This woman just wanted him to know that although she barely knew him, he was already part of her world and she would be there for him. It made Kellen feel good. He hadn’t felt that way in a long time.
“Oh, I have Inez looking after Ralphie.” She said he was restless, but fine. “You know he and the cat both tried to get in the ambulance with Ian?”
“He seems to have taken right to him.”
“Just like the rest of us.” She reached for a little white bag the she had brought up from the commissary. “Want half the paper?”
“Maybe later.” Kellen just slumped in the chair and stared at Ian. He started to drift off until Tippy touched his arm.
“Honey, I think you’ll want to read this.”
He opened his eyes to see the front page in his lap. The bold headline read, “Hot TV Exec in Grave Condition after Home Invasion”. Kellen sat up and brought it closer to his eyes. The article stated that Ian Justyn was fighting for his life in an undisclosed hospital after he and a friend walked in a burglary in process.
The details were picked over, neglecting the party that afternoon or that the burglar had been an attendant. It did say that the burglar was shot and killed by a neighbor, a former cop. It stated that the police had already closed the case, burglary being the reason for the scuffle, the only unanswered question being the meaning behind the burglar’s final words.
The rest of the article, continued on page four, went into details of HRT and Darla Hutton. Her career was detailed including her mysterious disappearance and the presumption that she and married co-star James Redfield had run off together to live happily, if anonymously, ever after, just like one of their movies.
It touched on almost all aspects of the now created legend, a missing diary that may or may not have ever existed and Redfield’s wife’s suicide years later. There was also the mention that David Turner, the assumed sole survivor of the trio who founded HRT had refused to declare any of them dead. Both Redfield and Hutton still had equal shares of stock and all monies over the years were still siphoned into accounts for each of them.
“Does that seem as stupid to you as it does me?” Tippy asked.
“There is no way this incident was a failed burglary attempt.” Kellen flatly said slamming the paper down. “Something else went on.”
“Sugar, I just assumed that it was, you know…” Tippy tried to explain genteelly, “…that poor man wanted to force Ian into…you know…having sex.”
Kellen looked Tippy straight in the eyes. “Tippy, it wasn’t that either. I saw Blue come out of the upstairs closet and point a gun at the back of Ian’s head. If Ian hadn’t bent down to swat at the cat, that first bullet wouldn’t have hit the glass.”
Tippy’s mouth dropped open, “Oh no, Kellen, who would want to deliberately do something like that to Ian? He doesn’t have an enemy in the world, except maybe that cow he used to live with…”
“Tippy, there is no question; Blue Richards was hiding in that closet waiting to get a clear shot. I have only two questions; why and why are the police so quick to close this case?”
“But if they have decided it was a burglary and poor Blue is dead, they aren’t gonna bother…they won’t be protecting Ian if…Kellen, sugar…?”
“That’s why Ripley is here.” Kellen assured her. “Someone will be around him twenty four seven, until we know what really happened, and I may be over reacting, but until then, let’s just make sure that Ian and all witnesses are safe.” He headed toward the door with the rest of the paper.
“Kellen, where are you going?”
“I know exactly where to go to get some answers.” And he did, straight to Peyton Balouche’s desk, where he slammed the paper down, pointed and demanded, “What is this shit, asshole?”
“Haven’t read it, but I’m sure it’s like all the other crap on the newswire and TV. Your buddy and his friend walked in on a burglar, burglar had a gun, you had a gun, bang bang burglar go bye bye.”
“Bullshit!”
Peyton looked him in the eye. “You’re right, it’s bullshit. The network is pretty powerful and they prefer this variation to the real truth to keep their golden boy out of hot water.”
“Huh?”
“Look, you know the truth as much as I do. The little nancy boys were having an orgy and someone got jealous. More than likely this Richards character, who several of the witnesses said they heard mention wanting to have sex with your buddy, has likely been stalking him.”
“Stalking?”
“His girlfriend says that he’s been talking pretty obsessively about the dude, she even told Justyn to let the guy have him and put him out of his misery. We found footprints matching the perp and semen on the grass. He’s been hiding in the bushes and playing pound the sausage from a distance for a while now…”
“Well that’s possible, but it still doesn’t explain why he claim out of that closet and aimed a gun right at Ian’s head. He intended to kill him, not screw him.”
“Don’t go blowing this out of proportion, Kel. Richards probably just decided if he couldn’t have the dude, no one could. Probably had been hiding in the closet for hours and decide to off him when he didn’t show up for a promised rendezvous.”
“That still doesn’t make sense.”
“Level with me, Kel…you been doin’ this Justyn guy, too?”
“Jealous?”
He smiled, “Maybe…the case is closed. Media thinks it was a botched burglary, network honchos get a hero instead of another scandal and they get off our backs…”
“Uh uh. There is something more to this. It’s too easy…”
“It’s open and shut. Stop trying to make an Agatha Christie out of a Darla Hutton...”
“And that’s another thing….”
“Oh please, if he’d been plugged at Lincoln Center, he’d have probably mooed Judy Garland.”
“Okay, what about the clothes? Where did he get the black clothes?”
“The ski mask belonged to Justyn, even had his widdle name in it.”
“So where are Richards’ clothes and his cell phone for that matter? He was dressed in khaki shorts and a white tank top at the party and chatted endlessly on his cell.”
“He went home and changed.”
“How’d he get there and back? His girlfriend left alone.”
“Taxi or maybe even Justyn himself.”
“Justyn left the house with Saxon Allen in her car. No taxis came by either. Between myself and the six people at the hospital we can give you times and names of everyone who came and went in that house since 4 PM on Thursday Night until the incident.”
“Richards and Justyn were about the same size, clothes may have come from the same place the ski mask did.”
“Then where are Richard’s clothes?”
“Jackson, don’t go making more out of this than it is. Everyone but you is happy. Case closed!”
Kellen turned to storm out of the office and ran into Detective Mitchell. “You the new partner?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let me give you a piece of advice, pal, something’s not right with this picture. If you don’t want to be taken down with Balouche, you better figure it out before I do.” and Kellen stormed out.
The nightmare became the next day and that day had become another night. Jesse Shores waited as long as he could. He was alone in the waiting room and could stand it no more.
He made his way to the room, nodding at Ripley steadfast in front of the door. “Need anything?”
Ripley shook his head. “Another guard dog will be in here in an hour. I’ll get a few hours rest and be back.”
Jesse smiled. “Thank you.”
“Just doing my job.”
“It’s more than that.” Jesse touched the man on the shoulder. “Just thank you.”
Ripley nodded his head and stepped to the side allowing Jesse to push the door open and walk into the darkness. Billy was stretched out on a bed, sleeping soundly. He walked to him, hands in jacket pockets and looked down.
“They gave him a sedative to make him sleep.” Came the voice softly from the corner.
Jesse looked up. “How ‘bout you? Have you gotten any rest at all?”
“I tried.” She sighed. “But I just can’t leave him alone.”
He nodded his head and walked to where she stood, looking down at Ian, battered and swollen almost beyond recognition. He put his arm around her and she leaned in.
“He should be awake by now.” She said. “I’m afraid he’s given up. I’m afraid he can’t take it anymore.”
“He’ll make it.” Jesse said almost to convince himself. “He has to.”
Saxon Allen turned to him and looked in Jesse’s eyes in the dark. “I don’t know that if I where in his place that I wouldn’t just give up, too. There’s been too much, Jesse.”
“He’s got Ronnie now.” He put his hands on her shoulders and tried to look into her eyes. “He’s got us.”
She put her head on his chest. “I’ve seen him, Jesse. I’ve seen him when he thinks I’m not looking, one eye is full of terror and the other is full of pain. He can’t shake it.”
“I’ve seen it, too, Saxon, but there’s something you’re forgetting. When he thinks no one’s watching, when he gets that look in his eyes, the rest of him gets ready for that swift kick in the balls that comes out of nowhere. When that’s gone, that’s when we should start to worry.”
Jesse could feel the woman smile and pulled him close. He rubbed her back and swayed lightly. “Ronnie knows.” He said. “Jeremy says he thinks he already knew.”
“How did he take it?” She pulled back and asked.
“Just like Ian would, went right into let’s get organized mode. He wanted to come straight to the hospital but Susan talked him into waiting until the morning.”
“He’s going to stay with them?”
“Tonight.” Jess confirmed. “Tomorrow they’ll bring him here and then he’ll be with us until Ian goes home.”
“Good.” Saxon wiped both her eyes in the dark. “He needs to feel as normal as possible.”
“They were going to put him in the big guest room, but I’m going to have him bunk with me for a while. I don’t want him to ever feel like he’s alone unless he wants to be.”
Saxon released her grip on Jesse and walked over to Ian’s bed. She reached down and brushed his hair with the palm of her hand.
“Why don’t you just tell him and get it over with?” Jesse asked her.
“Tell him what?”
“That you’re I love with him, always have been and always will be.”
She whipped her head to him. “Shhhh! He may be able to hear you.”
“Just because he’s blind and stupid doesn’t mean the rest of us are.” Jesse said. He stepped to her and took her hand. He kissed it and put it over Ian’s heart. “Tell him.”
“If only I could.”
“Why not?”
She pulled her hand away. “I don’t know, terror in one eye and pain in the other?”
“Better hurry up, or you’re never gonna feel that swift kick in the balls.”
Saxon giggled. “Your Mama said something similar.” She leaned over and kissed Ian on the forehead, then took Jesse by the hand. “Come over here, let’s sit down and talk.”
Jesse allowed himself to be led over to some chairs by a window and sat down with Saxon. She released one of his hands, but not the other. “If I thought Ian were free, I’d fall all over myself draggin’ that man to the alter.”
“But…”
She smiled and looked out the window into the night. “He’s not free, not even as he would say, merely inexpensive.”
“There’s no one else.” Jesse said flatly. “I can guarantee you, there is no one else.”
“I know.” She struggled for the right words. “Ian keeps that part of himself locked up. He struggles just to be a father. All that’s happened, he thinks there’s this cloud of darkness that follows him around.”
Jesse sighed and looked over at the man in the bed hooked up to all the machines. “And with his life, damn it...”
“If he thought he loved me, or knew how I really felt about him he’d push me away so fast…”
“Just because he wouldn’t want you to get hit by the next thunderbolt from the sky.”
She smiled weakly. “And with his track record, hell with mine, how do I prove otherwise?”
“Blindside him.” Jesse squeezed her hand. “Don’t give him a choice. That’s kind of what God did with Ronnie.”
“Clare tried it, and look how that turned out.”
“I never met the woman, but from everything I’ve heard you are definitely not Clare.”
“I think Ian and I are both resigned that the way it is, is how it will always be.” Saxon squeezed Jesse’s hand right back. “But I’ll make us both a promise, if the opportunity ever presents itself for something more, I’ll go for it.”
Jesse smiled. “That’s all I ask.”
“You know, if it wouldn’t make me feel like a cradle robber I just might come after you, young man.” Saxon pinched Jesse’s chin.
“Well, Saxon, if it does anything to encourage you I’ve been known to cruise the Senior Citizen’s Home now and then.” Jesse smiled because he made her laugh. “But I know I’d always be second choice, so as much as it breaks my heart I’ve let that dream go.” He thumbed over Ian. “The comatose dude in traction is the only one for you.”
Jesse kissed Saxon’s cheek. “Now, go home. Get some rest. Come back in the morning. I’ll be here. If he even moves a finger I’ll call.”
“I can’t, Jess.” She shook her head. “I can’t leave him.”
“Then go stretch out on the couch in the waiting room.”
“I’m fine.”
Jesse bit his lip and shuffled his feet. “Saxon…” He rubbed his hands through his hair. “Saxon, I…I, uh…” He cleared his throat and struggled. “I…need a little time…alone…with him.”
“Jesse, honey…” Saxon put her hand on his cheek.
“Please…” He sighed. “Just a little time…”
“Of course.” Saxon put her arms around him. She could feel him struggling to hold it in. “I’ll go get Ripley and I a cup of coffee.” Jesse nodded his head. “I’ll be just down the hall if you need me.”
Saxon hugged the boy-man close for just a second longer and then stood. She walked over to Ian and kissed his cheek then quietly let herself out of the room.
Jesse watched her go, staring at the closed door behind her. He didn’t move from his chair for the longest moment. All he could do was sit there and stare at the man in the bed.
He finally took a deep breath and stood. It was only four or five steps to Ian’s bedside but they were the most difficult steps Jesse Shores had ever taken. He stood over the man, hands in pockets just watching him.
There was a chair in the corner near him. He pulled it as close to the bed as he possibly could. He sat down put both his arms on the bed and put his forehead on them. His mind pinged and ponged, almost outracing his heart. When Jesse had control, he put his chin on his forearms and looked again at the closed eyes of his neighbor, his friend.
“I know.” He said so softly, Jesse himself almost couldn’t hear it. “Do you?”
Jesse sat up, his hands folding as if in prayer to his mouth. “I don’t know what to do. I need you. Tell me what to do.”
He stood up, chair scooting back against the wall in a loud thud. He paced up and down the length of the bed, finally going back to chairs by the window and sitting down. He stared out into the darkness for a while and then pulled an old yellowing envelope out of his jacket pocket.
“This fell on the floor.” He looked up at Ian just as if they could have a conversation. “You remember when you where getting that little half penny to give to Saxon, the one from your Aunt Hil’s box? I found some papers there, the ones I waved at you?”
He stood and went to Ian’s bedside again. “You didn’t know what they were, but you were in a hurry so I said I’d put the box back in the closet. Don’t get all anal on me, Ian. I put it back, exactly where it goes, but when I went to turn off the lights and leave, this was laying on the floor half under the bed.”
Jesse took the only hand Ian had free. He held it carefully knowing there were clips and wires attached to it. “Blue took those papers, Ian or at least I think he did. They’re gone. I didn’t remember until after I talked to the police that I still had this one in my back pocket. I hadn’t looked at it then, but when I remembered.”
He let loose of Ian’s hand. He began to tremble as he opened the envelope and slipped out the folded yellowing paper inside. He laid it on Ian’s stomach and took his hand again.
“I don’t know what to do, Ian. I don’t know that it explains what happened or why. In fact, it only makes everything worse. How? Why? What the fuck, man?”
“I’m scared Ian.” Jess put his other hand on Ian’s heart. “Terrified, so open your eyes and talk to me. Whatever, we are in this together. I promise, cause if whatever was in the rest of those envelopes is anything like this, the world is about to get really crazy.”
“Twenty four hours and counting” she said quietly. That’s all it had taken was twenty four hours. Ella now had all the pieces together. Well, she would if she lived long enough to get this last piece with the rest of them, if she could find it.
She bashed her knee on the corner of a table in the dark. Slapping her hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t scream out loud. Frozen for a moment, she made sure no one heard her. Easing down on the couch, Ella rolled up her pant leg as best she could. There was a little blood, no real damage.
She yanked down the pant leg, and stood up. No time to loose. She had to get what she needed and get out of this rat’s nest. She started opening drawers and rifling through as quietly as she could.
“What the…?” She reached in one drawer and picked up a plastic bag. She recognized the two cell phones. She shook her head. “Ian hasn’t lost as many as he thought.” She shoved them in the oversized shoulder bag and decided she’d better be a little more detailed.
If, God forbid, she wasn’t able to blow the whistle on this, the least she could do was make it difficult for them to carry it out. She wasn’t exactly sure what they were planning, but she knew it entailed setting Ian up. At least they hadn’t gotten scared and clean this place out….yet.
She knew this was where it all ended, or at least the diversion. As she canvassed the place she marveled at how detailed they’d been. It was all ready. She couldn’t figure out what they were waiting for, probably to get their hands on as much money as they could.
Blue was just supposed to scare the poor guy out of town. He was only supposed to threaten the boy enough to make Ian scoop him up and head out of town for good. They had promised him that all they needed was Justyn gone, not dead.
The plans had changed at the last minute. That’s what Blue had called and told her. She didn’t know how they’d changed, but she was pretty sure it didn’t include Blue ending up dead. Then again, she knew these guys played rough.
She stuffed some papers in her shoulder bag, and decided to look in the closet. When she opened the door, she spotted exactly what she was looking for. She reached up and grabbed the stack of disks. “Jackpot…” she said quietly.
It was what she needed to link everyone together. It was Blue’s idea, man but he was kinky, and they thought he was dumb. Well he was, but he was smart enough to have a little insurance they didn’t know about.
Maybe Blue being dead was part of the plan. He was a talker. It’s how she pieced everything together, at least enough to start a quiet and very thorough dig.
Slipping the stack with the rest in her bag, she looked around. “Just in case….” Ella went back to the drawers in the table, yanking out an envelope. She quickly addressed it and slipped one of the discs in. “Stamps, stamps…how many stamps…”
Ella slid open drawers knowing good and well she had seen a book in there somewhere. As always it was the last drawer she looked in. She pulled out the book and put all but one of the self-adhesives on the envelope. She started to lick the seal but something in the drawer caught her eye.
She reached in the drawer. Surely that wasn’t a pile of….she stared in wonder at the pile of laminated plastic in her hands. She smiled dropping a handful in her bag. “He’ll never miss a handful will he?”
Plucking one more out and sticking in the envelope with the disk. “Or this one.” She licked the flap shut and cracked the door, peering out to make sure there was no one in the hallway.
Free and clear, Ella slipped out. She walked as softly as she could. There was no sense in drawing attention to herself. If she could just get out of the building and disappear into the alley without being seen, there was no reason for her to come out of her hiding place until this was all over.
An old woman smiled at her as they passed each other in the stairway. “Are you new in the building honey?”
Ella wanted to just ignore her, but the woman was rather large and blocking her way. “No ma’am, I was trying to find a friend, but it looks like he’s not home.”
“5D?” She asked curiously. “Don’t looked so surprised. I know everyone in this building. Haven’t seen Bruno in weeks. You want I should give him a message?”
“No.” Ella smiled. “Old girlfriend, I was going to surprise him.”
The old woman chortled. “Oh sweetheart, you’re the one in for a surprise.” She shuffled past her and laughed the rest of the way up the stairs.
Ella took a deep breath when she’d made it to the lobby doors. “Okay, girl, another hundred feet and you are home free.” She pushed open the door and strode outside.
The street was empty. It was late, that shouldn’t have surprised her. She saw the alley between the buildings out of the corner of her eye. She also spotted the mailbox, the big old fashioned metal mailbox.
Ella walked over and pulled down the lid with a heavy clunk, tossing the envelope inside. “Just in case.” She jumped at the loud sound it made when she let the lid drop.
She looked both ways. The street was still empty. Her head turned to a sound. Ella smiled. It was a stray dog. She darted into the seclusion of the alley, the dog following. She was home free, all bets hedged.
Feeling relieved she bent down to pat the dog on the head before turning the corner at the end of the alley, beginning the back street maze that would take her to complete safety.
“Good boy.” She said, giving the smelly mutt one last stroke.
Ella froze in mid-pat when a pair of feet appeared in front of her. She slowly lifted her head up.
“Ella.” The man said. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”
She stood up, slowly.
“I like the new look, though.” He smiled, the cool detached smile.
“I guess I went a little crazy with the scissors.” She said.
“Yes.” He sighed, looking almost convincingly mournful. “Terrible about poor Blue.”
She pointed back behind her. “I’ve just come from his sister. She lives a few blocks over that way.”
“Oh.” He smiled. “I was wondering what brought you all the way down here by the river. I didn’t realize Blue had family anywhere around.”
“Yes. A sister with three kids.” She started running with the lie until she saw her chance to run. “They’re going to have a hard time. Blue helped out financially as much as he could.”
“Sweet.” He took a step towards her. Ella tried not to flinch. “It’s late to be out by yourself. May I give you a lift somewhere?”
“I’m a born and bred River Rat. Thanks anyway.” Ella slid a hand deep into her purse and smiled while lying some more. “There will only be a small memorial service, Danika’s still putting together details, but I think it will be Thursday.”
“Danika?”
“Blue’s sister.” Ella nodded. “I’ll let you know. Good night…Bruno.” She walked as nonchalantly as possible past him. She almost thought he’d bought it when she felt his hand clamp on her arm. She stopped dead in her tracks.
She could feel him step closely behind her. She could feel his breath on her ear. “You’re a lying bitch.”
That was her cue. She elbowed him in the stomach and took a step backward grabbing him as he bent forward. She shifted all her weight on her other foot and tossed him easily over her head into the wall at the end of the alley, then ran like hell.
Billy was the lucky one; the bullet went cleanly through his shoulder. He’d lost quite a bit of blood. Other than a scar he’d be perfectly fine. He would probably even be released in a few days. He insisted on a bed right next to Ian. They practically had to tie him there, even with Reese trying to keep him calm.
Blue Richards came out the unluckiest of all, poor bastard. Kellen had aimed for the shoulder, but for some reason the guy moved at the last minute, maybe to run, maybe to get one last shot at Ian in, but it landed in his chest and exploded in his heart. Before the sucker was barely zipped up in the body bag, news reports had hit the wires.
No one directly involved cared to even know what was being said. All they needed to know was that their loved ones were going to be fine. For a guy with no family, there sure were a lot of people refusing to leave the hospital until they knew he was out of danger. The Shores all arrived in squads and had had no sleep at all. Saxon managed to get to there just as the armies of reporters figured out which hospital Ian was in.
Blake and Wella managed to get through the throngs and be with the family. Others came and went through the night. Ian would have been shocked and surprised at how many people in such a short time had come to love him. The people getting coffee for one another and pestering every medical looking person who walked by would have been shocked at the one or two that were there for other reasons.
By the time Kellen made it to the hospital, Ian was already in surgery. His lungs had collapsed from being made pincushions by fractured ribs. He had a broken collarbone and clavicle. The doctors informed them that the small piece of cartilage that made up his rotator cuff had pretty much gone by by. It was assumed that the shoulder damage was made from the landing of his initial fall, and the rest when Blue and Billy came tumbling after.
Billy, listed on the insurance as next of kin, was rushed off to surgery himself, so the surgeons made an emergency decision to get it all done at once. Ian’s shattered knee would need to be replaced, but for now, it was determined to let Ian decide what he wanted to do when he was able.
Ironically, the doctor’s warned them that it was the rotator cuff damage that would be the most painful and take the longest recovery time. The surgeons compared it to a man giving birth. Of course, everything depended on Ian waking up, which he didn’t seem to be too concerned about doing.
Kellen had been questioned and grilled for hours. Since his gun fired the shot that had killed Blue Richards, coupled with the fact that he was an ex-cop, he was surprised that it hadn’t taken longer. The L.A.P.D. usually went over every aspect a thousand times when one of their own was involved, just to make sure that any inkling of departmental nepotism would not rear its ugly head.
He had told his side of the story only five hundred times that night. He had just returned home from rounds for the small security firm he ran since leaving the force, and was getting ready for bed. He heard the dog barking at the French doors and looked out to see what had Ralphie in such a tizzy.
In the bright moonlight, he could see that someone had just opened the curtains to Ian Justyn’s loft bedroom, but the dog kept barking. He saw Justyn, who waved at him and then he saw a figure step out of a closet and he saw him fire. By the time he grabbed his gun from the desk drawer and got outside he could see Justyn falling over the balcony and the intruder struggling with Billy.
He assumed at that point that Ian had been shot and was running to the check for signs of life when the other two broke through the balcony railing. Kellen drew his weapon and shouted the cliché “Stop or I’ll shoot!” When he saw the intruder aim his gun again.
Before Kellen could fire the dog attacked the intruder and the man’s gun fired, he didn’t know if it was deliberate or involuntary but Billy went into the pool face down. About that time others started showing up, from where he didn’t know, but three people dived in the pool after Billy.
Kellen saw the intruder aim his gun again, this time at Ian’s head. Kellen yelled drop your weapon, but he saw the man’s finger begin to squeeze so he fired and the man went down.
The five hundredth time seem to do the trick and he was released. Kellen was glad that he was allowed to put on some pants and they hadn’t handcuffed Ralphie and grilled him in the next room. As far as the other details, all Kellen knew was that both Billy and Ian were alive and had been taken to the hospital.
Peyton Balouche and his partner, a young guy he didn’t know, had been on call. Since Balouche and Kellen had been partners when he was on the force, another officer, Gene Rooney had been brought in to do the questioning. Satisfied that it was an act of defense, Kellen was told he was free to go, but told there may be further questions once more details of the day came to light.
As he left the station, Balouche told him that he shouldn’t worry, Richards was obviously a nut case. The assumption of Richard’s intent was either robbery or rape. Kellen himself had heard Richards make comments about Ian at the party and had been privy to other comments that he had made to his security staff at Open Fields. He knew better than to ascertain his own assumptions during questioning and simply filled in as many details as he could when they asked about his relationship with the victims.
Balouche finally got around to acknowledging their history when he asked how he was doing. Kellen said fine, but was still uncomfortable with the way things had ended with Balouche, not the force. “You still see Amanda and Barbie?” Kellen could see that he hated himself for even asking.
“About once a week.” He acknowledged.
“Lezzies,” Balouche sneered. “I’ll be in touch if we need anything more.” He turned to his partner, “Come on Mitchell, we’ve got paperwork you need to do.” And was gone.
Kellen saw the young partner roll his eyes and follow the man. Kellen, shook his had, knowing that this Mitchell must be the latest in a series of partner’s for Balouche. Kellen himself had been the next in a long line, but for some odd reason they clicked and were partners for three years, before Kellen left the force.
Kellen Jackson himself had come from a long line of policemen. His Grandfather was almost legendary on the force, killed in the line of duty at age 45. His father Walter Jackson, had also been a cop, not as decorated, but might have been had he not been gunned down at 39. On Kellen’s 34th birthday he was narrowly missed by bullet in a shoot out and decided not to press the luck of his lineage and resigned. That was a little over a year ago, and the world was now a different place.
It was Amanda who suggested that Kellen look into security. He had long toyed with a system that combined video surveillance with a pc. Amanda was doing well, her romance novels selling like hotcakes, and she offered to back him. While he rousted up business he got a job with a small firm that contracted bodyguards and bouncers for local clubs.
The guys running the company spent more time snorting the profits up their noses than actually hiring and training people. Within weeks Kellen found he had a knack for it and offered the cokeheads a good price for the business. To his surprise they took him up on the offer. By the end of that year, Kellen had tripled the business and was actually turning down clients.
A few months ago, Kellen had been talking with a couple that ran a hair salon and had been robbed four times in the last six months. While there he started chatting with a sweet old lady who said her husband had past away and couple that lived in the other house on her property had moved to New Orleans.
She asked him if he knew any of his employees that might be interested in renting the house. It would make her feel safer knowing that a trained security officer lived on her property. He took her phone number and said he’d let her know if any of his people needed a place to live.
While he was enjoying his new career, his personal life left him emptier and emptier. He now only shared his bed with Ralphie. He had bought him for Amanda for Christmas, but as usual she got bored with the dog by New Year’s and Kellen ended up bonding with it.
He and Amanda were already in the process of getting a divorce. She saw no reason to stay married and Kellen suddenly found no reason to stay. They were friends, but Amanda had found what she wanted was a twenty something named Barbie, Balouche’s ex-wife, and it was time for Kellen to do the same.
That weekend he called the number the lady had given him and he found himself, Ralphie in tow, in a nice little furnished bungalow with two stories and a car port. It was all he needed.
Upon his moving into his new rental, Mrs. Elysian told him that she was having her home renovated and she hoped that the noise wouldn’t bother him. It seemed over night that the work was done, the second story wall being removed and replaced with glass windows.
Don’t get him wrong he had learned to love Ms. Elysian, but when he first got a look at the completed project, giving him ample view into her master bedroom from his he couldn’t help but think of the old adage: “People who live in glass houses should dress in the basement.”
He worked night hours, so daytime was for sleeping, playing with the dog and chatting with Miss Elizabeth, as she insisted he call her. He often joined her for afternoon tea, and she went on and on about how she would soon be leaving but for him not to worry she had seen to it that nothing changed. She was depending on him to keep the place protected even after the young man moved in.
Shortly after the renovations had been completed, she informed him that this would be their last tea together. She was urgently needed by a cousin who had taken ill in Iowa and she had sold the place but, she was sure that he and the nice young man who would be moving in by at the first of the month would get along fine. Kellen was to continue depositing his rent check into the account as always. She would call him if she needed anything. That was the last he saw of her.
Now he sat with a group of others, all new friends, bonding even tighter over a senseless tragedy. Kellen sat in a chair at the end of Ian’s bed just staring at the black and blue young man in a drugged sleep with wires monitoring his progress and blood slightly seeping from surgical wounds into fresh gauze.
Why would someone try to kill this man? Why would a bartender from Open Fields, whom he knew on a first name basis and genuinely liked hide in a closet with a pistol? If it was a robbery, he could have done that so easily anytime during the day, and gotten away with it, too many people and too many witnesses to accurately pinpoint a burglar.
He then thought about the stalker scenario. He knew Blue Richards to be straight, but the man had openly admitted that he wanted Ian sexually. But Blue literally had hours in which to force himself on Ian, and probably without company in the house. Why did the guy hide in that closet? It made absolutely no sense whatsoever, and what the hell was this Darla Hutton business? They had all heard it loud, bloody, and clear.
Tippy had returned from the commissary with a paper tray full of coffees and teas for everyone. She handed them out motherly and made sure that the room full of her children, both real and adoptive, were taken care of. She walked over to the bed and gingerly kissed Ian on the forehead and sat in the chair beside Kellen patting him on the leg.
“You doing okay, Sugar?” She asked.
“Yep.”
“You’ve had no sleep whatsoever have you?”
“Have you?”
“I stole a few minutes here and there. Why don’t you try to close your eyes for a few minutes? You know we’ll let you know if there is any change.”
“Thanks, Tippy, but I can’t just now. Too many unanswered questions in my head.”
“Still a cop in your mind, honey?”
“Guess I always will be.”
“We’ll talk about that sometime.”
Kellen smiled and squeezed her hand, holding firmly to his. He knew she wasn’t being nosey. This woman just wanted him to know that although she barely knew him, he was already part of her world and she would be there for him. It made Kellen feel good. He hadn’t felt that way in a long time.
“Oh, I have Inez looking after Ralphie.” She said he was restless, but fine. “You know he and the cat both tried to get in the ambulance with Ian?”
“He seems to have taken right to him.”
“Just like the rest of us.” She reached for a little white bag the she had brought up from the commissary. “Want half the paper?”
“Maybe later.” Kellen just slumped in the chair and stared at Ian. He started to drift off until Tippy touched his arm.
“Honey, I think you’ll want to read this.”
He opened his eyes to see the front page in his lap. The bold headline read, “Hot TV Exec in Grave Condition after Home Invasion”. Kellen sat up and brought it closer to his eyes. The article stated that Ian Justyn was fighting for his life in an undisclosed hospital after he and a friend walked in a burglary in process.
The details were picked over, neglecting the party that afternoon or that the burglar had been an attendant. It did say that the burglar was shot and killed by a neighbor, a former cop. It stated that the police had already closed the case, burglary being the reason for the scuffle, the only unanswered question being the meaning behind the burglar’s final words.
The rest of the article, continued on page four, went into details of HRT and Darla Hutton. Her career was detailed including her mysterious disappearance and the presumption that she and married co-star James Redfield had run off together to live happily, if anonymously, ever after, just like one of their movies.
It touched on almost all aspects of the now created legend, a missing diary that may or may not have ever existed and Redfield’s wife’s suicide years later. There was also the mention that David Turner, the assumed sole survivor of the trio who founded HRT had refused to declare any of them dead. Both Redfield and Hutton still had equal shares of stock and all monies over the years were still siphoned into accounts for each of them.
“Does that seem as stupid to you as it does me?” Tippy asked.
“There is no way this incident was a failed burglary attempt.” Kellen flatly said slamming the paper down. “Something else went on.”
“Sugar, I just assumed that it was, you know…” Tippy tried to explain genteelly, “…that poor man wanted to force Ian into…you know…having sex.”
Kellen looked Tippy straight in the eyes. “Tippy, it wasn’t that either. I saw Blue come out of the upstairs closet and point a gun at the back of Ian’s head. If Ian hadn’t bent down to swat at the cat, that first bullet wouldn’t have hit the glass.”
Tippy’s mouth dropped open, “Oh no, Kellen, who would want to deliberately do something like that to Ian? He doesn’t have an enemy in the world, except maybe that cow he used to live with…”
“Tippy, there is no question; Blue Richards was hiding in that closet waiting to get a clear shot. I have only two questions; why and why are the police so quick to close this case?”
“But if they have decided it was a burglary and poor Blue is dead, they aren’t gonna bother…they won’t be protecting Ian if…Kellen, sugar…?”
“That’s why Ripley is here.” Kellen assured her. “Someone will be around him twenty four seven, until we know what really happened, and I may be over reacting, but until then, let’s just make sure that Ian and all witnesses are safe.” He headed toward the door with the rest of the paper.
“Kellen, where are you going?”
“I know exactly where to go to get some answers.” And he did, straight to Peyton Balouche’s desk, where he slammed the paper down, pointed and demanded, “What is this shit, asshole?”
“Haven’t read it, but I’m sure it’s like all the other crap on the newswire and TV. Your buddy and his friend walked in on a burglar, burglar had a gun, you had a gun, bang bang burglar go bye bye.”
“Bullshit!”
Peyton looked him in the eye. “You’re right, it’s bullshit. The network is pretty powerful and they prefer this variation to the real truth to keep their golden boy out of hot water.”
“Huh?”
“Look, you know the truth as much as I do. The little nancy boys were having an orgy and someone got jealous. More than likely this Richards character, who several of the witnesses said they heard mention wanting to have sex with your buddy, has likely been stalking him.”
“Stalking?”
“His girlfriend says that he’s been talking pretty obsessively about the dude, she even told Justyn to let the guy have him and put him out of his misery. We found footprints matching the perp and semen on the grass. He’s been hiding in the bushes and playing pound the sausage from a distance for a while now…”
“Well that’s possible, but it still doesn’t explain why he claim out of that closet and aimed a gun right at Ian’s head. He intended to kill him, not screw him.”
“Don’t go blowing this out of proportion, Kel. Richards probably just decided if he couldn’t have the dude, no one could. Probably had been hiding in the closet for hours and decide to off him when he didn’t show up for a promised rendezvous.”
“That still doesn’t make sense.”
“Level with me, Kel…you been doin’ this Justyn guy, too?”
“Jealous?”
He smiled, “Maybe…the case is closed. Media thinks it was a botched burglary, network honchos get a hero instead of another scandal and they get off our backs…”
“Uh uh. There is something more to this. It’s too easy…”
“It’s open and shut. Stop trying to make an Agatha Christie out of a Darla Hutton...”
“And that’s another thing….”
“Oh please, if he’d been plugged at Lincoln Center, he’d have probably mooed Judy Garland.”
“Okay, what about the clothes? Where did he get the black clothes?”
“The ski mask belonged to Justyn, even had his widdle name in it.”
“So where are Richards’ clothes and his cell phone for that matter? He was dressed in khaki shorts and a white tank top at the party and chatted endlessly on his cell.”
“He went home and changed.”
“How’d he get there and back? His girlfriend left alone.”
“Taxi or maybe even Justyn himself.”
“Justyn left the house with Saxon Allen in her car. No taxis came by either. Between myself and the six people at the hospital we can give you times and names of everyone who came and went in that house since 4 PM on Thursday Night until the incident.”
“Richards and Justyn were about the same size, clothes may have come from the same place the ski mask did.”
“Then where are Richard’s clothes?”
“Jackson, don’t go making more out of this than it is. Everyone but you is happy. Case closed!”
Kellen turned to storm out of the office and ran into Detective Mitchell. “You the new partner?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let me give you a piece of advice, pal, something’s not right with this picture. If you don’t want to be taken down with Balouche, you better figure it out before I do.” and Kellen stormed out.
The nightmare became the next day and that day had become another night. Jesse Shores waited as long as he could. He was alone in the waiting room and could stand it no more.
He made his way to the room, nodding at Ripley steadfast in front of the door. “Need anything?”
Ripley shook his head. “Another guard dog will be in here in an hour. I’ll get a few hours rest and be back.”
Jesse smiled. “Thank you.”
“Just doing my job.”
“It’s more than that.” Jesse touched the man on the shoulder. “Just thank you.”
Ripley nodded his head and stepped to the side allowing Jesse to push the door open and walk into the darkness. Billy was stretched out on a bed, sleeping soundly. He walked to him, hands in jacket pockets and looked down.
“They gave him a sedative to make him sleep.” Came the voice softly from the corner.
Jesse looked up. “How ‘bout you? Have you gotten any rest at all?”
“I tried.” She sighed. “But I just can’t leave him alone.”
He nodded his head and walked to where she stood, looking down at Ian, battered and swollen almost beyond recognition. He put his arm around her and she leaned in.
“He should be awake by now.” She said. “I’m afraid he’s given up. I’m afraid he can’t take it anymore.”
“He’ll make it.” Jesse said almost to convince himself. “He has to.”
Saxon Allen turned to him and looked in Jesse’s eyes in the dark. “I don’t know that if I where in his place that I wouldn’t just give up, too. There’s been too much, Jesse.”
“He’s got Ronnie now.” He put his hands on her shoulders and tried to look into her eyes. “He’s got us.”
She put her head on his chest. “I’ve seen him, Jesse. I’ve seen him when he thinks I’m not looking, one eye is full of terror and the other is full of pain. He can’t shake it.”
“I’ve seen it, too, Saxon, but there’s something you’re forgetting. When he thinks no one’s watching, when he gets that look in his eyes, the rest of him gets ready for that swift kick in the balls that comes out of nowhere. When that’s gone, that’s when we should start to worry.”
Jesse could feel the woman smile and pulled him close. He rubbed her back and swayed lightly. “Ronnie knows.” He said. “Jeremy says he thinks he already knew.”
“How did he take it?” She pulled back and asked.
“Just like Ian would, went right into let’s get organized mode. He wanted to come straight to the hospital but Susan talked him into waiting until the morning.”
“He’s going to stay with them?”
“Tonight.” Jess confirmed. “Tomorrow they’ll bring him here and then he’ll be with us until Ian goes home.”
“Good.” Saxon wiped both her eyes in the dark. “He needs to feel as normal as possible.”
“They were going to put him in the big guest room, but I’m going to have him bunk with me for a while. I don’t want him to ever feel like he’s alone unless he wants to be.”
Saxon released her grip on Jesse and walked over to Ian’s bed. She reached down and brushed his hair with the palm of her hand.
“Why don’t you just tell him and get it over with?” Jesse asked her.
“Tell him what?”
“That you’re I love with him, always have been and always will be.”
She whipped her head to him. “Shhhh! He may be able to hear you.”
“Just because he’s blind and stupid doesn’t mean the rest of us are.” Jesse said. He stepped to her and took her hand. He kissed it and put it over Ian’s heart. “Tell him.”
“If only I could.”
“Why not?”
She pulled her hand away. “I don’t know, terror in one eye and pain in the other?”
“Better hurry up, or you’re never gonna feel that swift kick in the balls.”
Saxon giggled. “Your Mama said something similar.” She leaned over and kissed Ian on the forehead, then took Jesse by the hand. “Come over here, let’s sit down and talk.”
Jesse allowed himself to be led over to some chairs by a window and sat down with Saxon. She released one of his hands, but not the other. “If I thought Ian were free, I’d fall all over myself draggin’ that man to the alter.”
“But…”
She smiled and looked out the window into the night. “He’s not free, not even as he would say, merely inexpensive.”
“There’s no one else.” Jesse said flatly. “I can guarantee you, there is no one else.”
“I know.” She struggled for the right words. “Ian keeps that part of himself locked up. He struggles just to be a father. All that’s happened, he thinks there’s this cloud of darkness that follows him around.”
Jesse sighed and looked over at the man in the bed hooked up to all the machines. “And with his life, damn it...”
“If he thought he loved me, or knew how I really felt about him he’d push me away so fast…”
“Just because he wouldn’t want you to get hit by the next thunderbolt from the sky.”
She smiled weakly. “And with his track record, hell with mine, how do I prove otherwise?”
“Blindside him.” Jesse squeezed her hand. “Don’t give him a choice. That’s kind of what God did with Ronnie.”
“Clare tried it, and look how that turned out.”
“I never met the woman, but from everything I’ve heard you are definitely not Clare.”
“I think Ian and I are both resigned that the way it is, is how it will always be.” Saxon squeezed Jesse’s hand right back. “But I’ll make us both a promise, if the opportunity ever presents itself for something more, I’ll go for it.”
Jesse smiled. “That’s all I ask.”
“You know, if it wouldn’t make me feel like a cradle robber I just might come after you, young man.” Saxon pinched Jesse’s chin.
“Well, Saxon, if it does anything to encourage you I’ve been known to cruise the Senior Citizen’s Home now and then.” Jesse smiled because he made her laugh. “But I know I’d always be second choice, so as much as it breaks my heart I’ve let that dream go.” He thumbed over Ian. “The comatose dude in traction is the only one for you.”
Jesse kissed Saxon’s cheek. “Now, go home. Get some rest. Come back in the morning. I’ll be here. If he even moves a finger I’ll call.”
“I can’t, Jess.” She shook her head. “I can’t leave him.”
“Then go stretch out on the couch in the waiting room.”
“I’m fine.”
Jesse bit his lip and shuffled his feet. “Saxon…” He rubbed his hands through his hair. “Saxon, I…I, uh…” He cleared his throat and struggled. “I…need a little time…alone…with him.”
“Jesse, honey…” Saxon put her hand on his cheek.
“Please…” He sighed. “Just a little time…”
“Of course.” Saxon put her arms around him. She could feel him struggling to hold it in. “I’ll go get Ripley and I a cup of coffee.” Jesse nodded his head. “I’ll be just down the hall if you need me.”
Saxon hugged the boy-man close for just a second longer and then stood. She walked over to Ian and kissed his cheek then quietly let herself out of the room.
Jesse watched her go, staring at the closed door behind her. He didn’t move from his chair for the longest moment. All he could do was sit there and stare at the man in the bed.
He finally took a deep breath and stood. It was only four or five steps to Ian’s bedside but they were the most difficult steps Jesse Shores had ever taken. He stood over the man, hands in pockets just watching him.
There was a chair in the corner near him. He pulled it as close to the bed as he possibly could. He sat down put both his arms on the bed and put his forehead on them. His mind pinged and ponged, almost outracing his heart. When Jesse had control, he put his chin on his forearms and looked again at the closed eyes of his neighbor, his friend.
“I know.” He said so softly, Jesse himself almost couldn’t hear it. “Do you?”
Jesse sat up, his hands folding as if in prayer to his mouth. “I don’t know what to do. I need you. Tell me what to do.”
He stood up, chair scooting back against the wall in a loud thud. He paced up and down the length of the bed, finally going back to chairs by the window and sitting down. He stared out into the darkness for a while and then pulled an old yellowing envelope out of his jacket pocket.
“This fell on the floor.” He looked up at Ian just as if they could have a conversation. “You remember when you where getting that little half penny to give to Saxon, the one from your Aunt Hil’s box? I found some papers there, the ones I waved at you?”
He stood and went to Ian’s bedside again. “You didn’t know what they were, but you were in a hurry so I said I’d put the box back in the closet. Don’t get all anal on me, Ian. I put it back, exactly where it goes, but when I went to turn off the lights and leave, this was laying on the floor half under the bed.”
Jesse took the only hand Ian had free. He held it carefully knowing there were clips and wires attached to it. “Blue took those papers, Ian or at least I think he did. They’re gone. I didn’t remember until after I talked to the police that I still had this one in my back pocket. I hadn’t looked at it then, but when I remembered.”
He let loose of Ian’s hand. He began to tremble as he opened the envelope and slipped out the folded yellowing paper inside. He laid it on Ian’s stomach and took his hand again.
“I don’t know what to do, Ian. I don’t know that it explains what happened or why. In fact, it only makes everything worse. How? Why? What the fuck, man?”
“I’m scared Ian.” Jess put his other hand on Ian’s heart. “Terrified, so open your eyes and talk to me. Whatever, we are in this together. I promise, cause if whatever was in the rest of those envelopes is anything like this, the world is about to get really crazy.”
“Twenty four hours and counting” she said quietly. That’s all it had taken was twenty four hours. Ella now had all the pieces together. Well, she would if she lived long enough to get this last piece with the rest of them, if she could find it.
She bashed her knee on the corner of a table in the dark. Slapping her hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t scream out loud. Frozen for a moment, she made sure no one heard her. Easing down on the couch, Ella rolled up her pant leg as best she could. There was a little blood, no real damage.
She yanked down the pant leg, and stood up. No time to loose. She had to get what she needed and get out of this rat’s nest. She started opening drawers and rifling through as quietly as she could.
“What the…?” She reached in one drawer and picked up a plastic bag. She recognized the two cell phones. She shook her head. “Ian hasn’t lost as many as he thought.” She shoved them in the oversized shoulder bag and decided she’d better be a little more detailed.
If, God forbid, she wasn’t able to blow the whistle on this, the least she could do was make it difficult for them to carry it out. She wasn’t exactly sure what they were planning, but she knew it entailed setting Ian up. At least they hadn’t gotten scared and clean this place out….yet.
She knew this was where it all ended, or at least the diversion. As she canvassed the place she marveled at how detailed they’d been. It was all ready. She couldn’t figure out what they were waiting for, probably to get their hands on as much money as they could.
Blue was just supposed to scare the poor guy out of town. He was only supposed to threaten the boy enough to make Ian scoop him up and head out of town for good. They had promised him that all they needed was Justyn gone, not dead.
The plans had changed at the last minute. That’s what Blue had called and told her. She didn’t know how they’d changed, but she was pretty sure it didn’t include Blue ending up dead. Then again, she knew these guys played rough.
She stuffed some papers in her shoulder bag, and decided to look in the closet. When she opened the door, she spotted exactly what she was looking for. She reached up and grabbed the stack of disks. “Jackpot…” she said quietly.
It was what she needed to link everyone together. It was Blue’s idea, man but he was kinky, and they thought he was dumb. Well he was, but he was smart enough to have a little insurance they didn’t know about.
Maybe Blue being dead was part of the plan. He was a talker. It’s how she pieced everything together, at least enough to start a quiet and very thorough dig.
Slipping the stack with the rest in her bag, she looked around. “Just in case….” Ella went back to the drawers in the table, yanking out an envelope. She quickly addressed it and slipped one of the discs in. “Stamps, stamps…how many stamps…”
Ella slid open drawers knowing good and well she had seen a book in there somewhere. As always it was the last drawer she looked in. She pulled out the book and put all but one of the self-adhesives on the envelope. She started to lick the seal but something in the drawer caught her eye.
She reached in the drawer. Surely that wasn’t a pile of….she stared in wonder at the pile of laminated plastic in her hands. She smiled dropping a handful in her bag. “He’ll never miss a handful will he?”
Plucking one more out and sticking in the envelope with the disk. “Or this one.” She licked the flap shut and cracked the door, peering out to make sure there was no one in the hallway.
Free and clear, Ella slipped out. She walked as softly as she could. There was no sense in drawing attention to herself. If she could just get out of the building and disappear into the alley without being seen, there was no reason for her to come out of her hiding place until this was all over.
An old woman smiled at her as they passed each other in the stairway. “Are you new in the building honey?”
Ella wanted to just ignore her, but the woman was rather large and blocking her way. “No ma’am, I was trying to find a friend, but it looks like he’s not home.”
“5D?” She asked curiously. “Don’t looked so surprised. I know everyone in this building. Haven’t seen Bruno in weeks. You want I should give him a message?”
“No.” Ella smiled. “Old girlfriend, I was going to surprise him.”
The old woman chortled. “Oh sweetheart, you’re the one in for a surprise.” She shuffled past her and laughed the rest of the way up the stairs.
Ella took a deep breath when she’d made it to the lobby doors. “Okay, girl, another hundred feet and you are home free.” She pushed open the door and strode outside.
The street was empty. It was late, that shouldn’t have surprised her. She saw the alley between the buildings out of the corner of her eye. She also spotted the mailbox, the big old fashioned metal mailbox.
Ella walked over and pulled down the lid with a heavy clunk, tossing the envelope inside. “Just in case.” She jumped at the loud sound it made when she let the lid drop.
She looked both ways. The street was still empty. Her head turned to a sound. Ella smiled. It was a stray dog. She darted into the seclusion of the alley, the dog following. She was home free, all bets hedged.
Feeling relieved she bent down to pat the dog on the head before turning the corner at the end of the alley, beginning the back street maze that would take her to complete safety.
“Good boy.” She said, giving the smelly mutt one last stroke.
Ella froze in mid-pat when a pair of feet appeared in front of her. She slowly lifted her head up.
“Ella.” The man said. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”
She stood up, slowly.
“I like the new look, though.” He smiled, the cool detached smile.
“I guess I went a little crazy with the scissors.” She said.
“Yes.” He sighed, looking almost convincingly mournful. “Terrible about poor Blue.”
She pointed back behind her. “I’ve just come from his sister. She lives a few blocks over that way.”
“Oh.” He smiled. “I was wondering what brought you all the way down here by the river. I didn’t realize Blue had family anywhere around.”
“Yes. A sister with three kids.” She started running with the lie until she saw her chance to run. “They’re going to have a hard time. Blue helped out financially as much as he could.”
“Sweet.” He took a step towards her. Ella tried not to flinch. “It’s late to be out by yourself. May I give you a lift somewhere?”
“I’m a born and bred River Rat. Thanks anyway.” Ella slid a hand deep into her purse and smiled while lying some more. “There will only be a small memorial service, Danika’s still putting together details, but I think it will be Thursday.”
“Danika?”
“Blue’s sister.” Ella nodded. “I’ll let you know. Good night…Bruno.” She walked as nonchalantly as possible past him. She almost thought he’d bought it when she felt his hand clamp on her arm. She stopped dead in her tracks.
She could feel him step closely behind her. She could feel his breath on her ear. “You’re a lying bitch.”
That was her cue. She elbowed him in the stomach and took a step backward grabbing him as he bent forward. She shifted all her weight on her other foot and tossed him easily over her head into the wall at the end of the alley, then ran like hell.
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