By the time Ian was returned to his room, he was in serious need of that Percidan drip. He was surprised at the ease in which he was brought back. He had to admit he was half disappointed he wasn’t handcuffed or at least grilled by the cops under a swinging naked light bulb.
He was simply wheeled back to his room, and hooked back up to the machines. They did take his pants though. As the Percidan began to take effect he wondered if people snuck out of the hospital a lot.
“You should have seen him, Miss Tippy…” Ripley gushed from his post.
“Oh honey, we did! They broke into regular programming on most stations. It was big news…”
“Slow news day…” Ian mumbled.
“Baby Doll, they way they put things before it started…if I didn’t know you were on your way, I would have been bawling my eyes out. They made it seem like they were waiting to announce that you had passed…”
“Probably how Kent got everyone to pay attention so quickly…” Ripley growled.
“You could even hear most of the hospital cheering as soon as we could see you walking up to the podium…ooh it just sent chills up and down my spine!”
“The look on Kent’s face was unmistakable when he saw you standing there!” Jesse laughed. “Bet they’ll never get the stains out of his shorts!”
“I’m glad you think this incident was funny!” The doctor had arrived and he was taking no prisoners.
“That’s my cue for coffee…” Jesse slipped out.
“Chicken!” Tippy yelled after him.
“Young man, I should have you and your cohorts arrested for the mockery you made of this hospital. You’re lack of respect is most unforgivable.”
“Mmmm…sorry…dock…” Ian was trying hard not to enjoy the Percidan drip while being chastised, but it was just too good.
“You may have just set your recovery back quite some time!” The doctor demanded. “Are they’re anymore musketeers unaccounted for?”
“Just…” Ian started to add.
“Shut up.” Tippy interrupted. She looked at the doctor. “There was one other, but she didn’t make it…” she bit her lip and hung her head.
The doctor cleared his throat. Tippy, Jesse and Ripley all started speaking and explaining at once. Ian just started humming “You Light Up My Life.”
“Okay! Okay! Enough!” The doctor threw up his hands. “Fortunately for you, I saw the conference, too. I’m not sure what was going on or why but Mr. Justyn you did a very brave, however stupid, thing. I trust the antics are all over with?”
Everyone nodded, except for Ian who wanted to know what ever happened to Debby Boone.
“Everyone will be following hospital policies at all times?”
Everyone nodded except for Ian, who wanted to know if he was wearing undergarments. Tippy patted him on the good thigh and said, “No honey, but that’s the way we like it…Doctor we promise to be good, we don’t I guarantee him!” She pointed at Ian.
“He’s a troublemaker all right!” The doctor grinned. “Doctor Evans, the physical therapist will be in later today to start set up a little physical therapy for him.”
“Good.” Tippy smiled looking at Ian who was checking to see if he had on underwear.
“Doctor I think that drip may be a teensy bit too high…” Tippy added.
“I’ll have a nurse double check in a moment.” The doctor swept his eyes around everyone in the room. “Shenanigans are over, and I expect company to be limited to three per bed. Understand?”
“Company? I love that show!” Ian replied and launched into “Being Alive”.
“Honey…” Tippy looked down at Ian.
“Somebody sweeten my coffee…” Ian sang.
“Baby Doll!” she slapped his bruised thigh. “Concerts over…quiet time.”
“Oh, thank you.” Ian whispered.
Reese and Billy entered the room. “I see the Dalton gang has reformed.”
“Shhhh! Quiet time!” Ian scolded.
Billy chuckled.
Ian peeked down his hospital gown. “I’m not wearing underwear, wanna see?”
“Uh…” Billy looked little frightened. “I’ll just stay right here, thanks though…” he sat on the bed.
“I better have a look at that drip.” The doctor stepped back to the bag and looked closely at the label and the clip. “Oh shit…”
Tippy grew concerned. “Is there a problem…?”
“No, Ms. Shores. I’ve got it under control now.” The doctor disconnected the bag from the spout going into Ian’s arm and pressed the buzzer on the wall. “Nurse get in here. Now!”
“Doctor, you are scaring me…” Tippy put her hand to her throat.
“I assure you, everything is under control. Unfortunately the little nozzle here…” He pointed to the bag and carefully tried to explain in terms she would understand. “Seems to be malfunctioning. It’s giving twice the normal dose, hence our little singer….”
The nurse entered. “Take this and….” He launched into some heavily technical stuff very calmly which was the only thing keeping Tippy from ripping his balls off. The doctor turned back to Tippy as he held up a bottle, sticking it with a needle and pulling back the plunger drawing some fluid into it.
“I’m just going to give some of this to Mr. Justyn, it will counter act the build up. He’s going to be uncomfortable for awhile, just until we can make sure that any possible overdose has been flushed from his system.”
The doctor attached the needle to the plug stuck in Ian’s hand and evenly pushed the plunger forward. “He should be more coherent and back to normal very quickly.”
The doctor explained what might have happened and when Tippy inquired if it was something that they could have done he assured her that it was a manufacturer’s error and that the nurse would be checking the entire stock and alerting other hospitals to the possibility.
By the time everyone was soothed, Ian hung his head and moaned, "I am so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be silly, Baby Doll. You aren’t the one wearing baggy faded boxer shorts.” Tippy said.
“Apparently, you’re not wearing any under shorts at all…” Billy added with a smile.
“If I wasn’t all tied up here I’d hide under the covers.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Billy chuckled.
“Well, I will see you in the morning.” The doctor bid adieu and took Tippy’s hand. “We’ll be keeping a close eye on Mr. Justyn, just to make sure there is no further reaction.”
“Thanks. You have a good night.”
Before leaving the room he turned to the small group. “Don’t let him talk you into anything.”
Tippy walked over to a drawer and opened it, taking out a pair of blue flannel pants. She walked over to Reese handed them to him. “Here, honey, Colton brought these for Ian see if you can get these on him. That thigh is still swollen but he’ll be a little more comfortable if we can slip them on him.”
“Thank you, Tippy. I appreciate it.” Ian said as Reese and Jesse tried to maneuver him enough to get pants on him.
The conversations came and went. Although very uncomfortable, Ian enjoyed his family and friends. At various times through the rest of the afternoon and the early evening it seemed like everyone Ian had met came in to say hello, all gushing about the news conference and commenting on the constant barrage of network coverage. Jeremy had a get well card that the boys had made him, and Ian had it put on a cabinet at the foot of his bed where he could see it constantly.
Finally a nurse came in and ran everyone out. Ian smiled and joked, but it was easy to see that he was overwhelmed by the parade that had come and gone. It had begun to rain. While his disposition was cheerful, Ian felt as cold and streaked as the rain.
At least when Dr. Evans came by he told them all that he needed Ian to be a little more mobile. That he could start going to the bathroom by himself, as long as someone helped him walk there and back.
That perked Ian up somewhat. He hated the bedpan, but less than the catheter. He felt dirty and grimy, and realized that other than some quick sponging by people who spoke no English he hadn’t had a real bath since Saturday morning. It was now Wednesday night. He wondered if the whole world could smell him.
Now he finally had a minute to himself. It still all seemed like a dream. He had so little growing up; it seemed that everything was in his head. Now that things were different, it just couldn’t fathom that it was all real. One thing for sure, it was all so fragile.
So much had changed, and still so little. He finally had a home, one that was all his. He had a great job, one that paid him big bucks to be creative and encourage creativity in others. He even had friends and family. Even his little boy was finally truly his little boy.
One thing still hadn’t changed. He looked out the window. The sun was gone and the moon signified the end of the old day. That new day had come and gone, and Ian was still alone.
“That’s a good boy,” Kellen said squatting down and giving the dog a vigorous rub. “Did you take care of business?” He scratched Ralphie behind the ears and received a wet sloppy lick on the cheek in return before the dog bounded to his bed in the corner, made three circles and flopped down.
Kellen shut the doors tight, trying to not look at the mess that still made him shudder across the wall. He had pulled the curtains closed on the French doors so he couldn’t see. There would be time enough for that later, as he helped the cleaning crew and the neighbors try to piece it all back together.
He crawled back on his bed, on his back and waited for the sun to come up. He would take his turn guarding Ian at 8 a.m. Ripley had insisted on double shifts. The mountain of a man had taken such a shine to him.
He had told Kellen that Ian was the first big shot he’d ever met that treated him like a human and not a piece of furniture. The man even bawled when he first got a look at him in the hospital bed, all bloody and bruised and lifeless except for some ragged shallow breaths.
There were so many pieces that just didn’t fit. His gut told him that something just wasn’t right. Blue Richards had waited in that closet until the right time. He definitely intended to kill Ian, but why? And why did Peyton Balouche cover it up? What was the connection? Had HRT really pressured the police force into a more publicly acceptable outcome?
Blue Richards had waited in that closet for who knows how long. He could have grabbed whatever he wanted to steal and been long gone, but he had slipped in that closet well during the early evening, changed in to dark clothes so no one would recognize him and waited until he heard or saw Ian enter the bedroom alone. But why did he not want to be recognized if he hadn’t intended to kill him?
Semen on the ground, that’s what Peyton had told him they had found. It could have been from almost anyone at the party who decided to have a little tryst in the bushes. Kellen sat straight up in bed. The first pieces fit. Blue Richard had been watching Ian for days.
Of course, that would lend itself to the stalking aspect of the case. He would have to find out where Richards hiding place was. Kellen lay back down and his mind whirled. What if Ian was the target but not necessarily the intended victim? “That could be it,” He thought.
That still led back to the question of why and didn’t explain the connection with Balouche. Surely it wasn’t Balouche who set the whole thing up. Balouche would have known that Kellen would have come bounding over pistol drawn. Had he been the intended victim, Richards would have had to do some mighty fancy footwork to make it look like Ian had shot him in a jealous rage. Nope, that theory was out and there was still absolutely no connection between Balouche and Richards.
Kellen tried to put it all out of his head. He needed to get a little sleep. He rolled over on his belly and tried to relax. He put his head face down on the pillows and slid his arms under their coolness.
Wait! Was that his doorbell? Kellen snapped back from his thoughts and realized someone was at his front door. He looked outside.
It was still black. The sun hadn’t come up yet. He grabbed his underwear from the floor and quickly pulled them on. Ralphie got up from his bed and trotted downstairs as Kel reached for his robe and tied it around him.
He looked out the window. He didn’t recognize the car. Had something happened to Ian? He started to panic, and thought; no, Ripley would have called immediately. As he hit the first floor landing he looked through the peephole.
That guy from the police station—the partner—what was he doing here? At this time of the morning? Kellen flung open the front door. “Detective Mitchell? Is something wrong?”
“Officer Jackson, I am so sorry to bother you at this time of the night, but I wanted to make sure that no one knew I had come.”
“Well, you certainly picked a great hour.”
“Am I disturbing you, sir?’
“Actually, no. Having a little trouble getting to sleep…”
“I meant, are you alone?”
“Yes, of course.”
“May I come in? It’s important.”
Kellen motioned him in and the young man hesitantly stepped through to the foyer. He was dressed in jeans and a hooded tee, and had a backpack over his right shoulder.
“I didn’t know who else to go to, but something’s just not right, sir…”
“Listen, Detective Mitchell, if this is concerning a case, you should really be talking to your partner and not me…”
“Andy…”
“Excuse me?”
“My name is Andy, sir.”
“Alright Andy, and drop the sir stuff. You can call me Kellen or Kel”
“Thank you…uhm…may I sit down for a moment?”
“Come on in.” Andy followed Kellen through the foyer into his deceptively sparse living room. He motioned for Andy to have a seat, which he did on the very edge of the couch, very uncomfortably. He took is back pack off and let it drop between his feet.
“The Ian Justyn case…”
“I thought that was closed.” Kellen didn’t bother to hide his contempt for that fact from his voice.
“You’re right, it is…and you’re right, nothing is adding up. That’s why I’ve come to you…”
“Have you brought this up to Balouche?”
“Every time I try, he shoots me down, has a too easy solution or changes the subject.”
“I’ve known Peyton for a long time, and I think we can both agree that he’s never wrong, even though most of the time he is…”
“I really didn’t think much about it until I went in to do the paperwork. He’d done it already.”
“Balouche? Did paperwork? That’s a red flag right there!”
“It was already typed, signed and filed by the time I had come in to get it done. I asked about it and he just said he thought I deserved a break and since he’d done most of the footwork himself…”
“Like that ever made him do paperwork before….” Kellen remembered all too well.
“Of course he left all the filing on our end to be done, which I went ahead and did, but I noticed he hadn’t made a copy for our files.”
“Probably didn’t even realize that that had to be done, the butt wipe.”
“That’s what I assumed, so I just went to Betty and asked her to make me a copy, which she did. Just for kicks while he was off bullshitting with someone about the stalker case he just solved, I read it over. It’s all pretty pat, and unquestionably supports his resolution.”
“So? Why are you coming to me? To rub it in my face?”
“Absolutely not. Kellen what’s in the report adds up, but it’s what’s left out that makes it add up…”
Kellen sat up. “Coffee, we need coffee and I need to put some pants on.”
“I can make the coffee while you dress.”
“Heard about my coffee, huh?”
“The facts just add up…”
Kellen sniggered. “Kitchen’s through there, I’ll be right back down…” Andy headed off toward the coffee maker and Kellen up the stairs to find pants and a shirt. He picked the jeans that he had wadded up off the floor and shucked them on. He sniffed his tee before pushing his arms through, but decided that a new shirt was in order. He pulled open the top drawer.
Ella dared not moan. She wasn’t sure Bruno was gone yet. He had to believe she was dead. She kept going in and out of consciousness, so death wouldn’t be hard to fake for too much longer. She kept as still as possible in the cold and listened and prayed a while longer.
She’d gotten her licks in. He wouldn’t be able to hide the damage for at least a few days. When she first saw his feet she prepared herself by reaching into her shoulder bag and finding the scissors she had in there. When he grabbed her the first time she got him good in the fat of his forearm.
It slowed him down some, but the evil in the man just pumped in more adrenaline. She ran but he still managed to jump her and wrestle her to the ground. She took a few blows, but managed to ditch her purse in the tussle.
Hopefully he wouldn’t find it, unfortunately only some homeless guy would and nothing in it would have any value. Better ending up in the dump, than in his hands. Soon her letters would arrive, and eventually get to someone who would now have all they needed to stop Bruno.
She listened closely. She was alone. She took a well deserved deep, painful breath. She crawled to the alley wall and tried to stand. She couldn’t. She needed help. Ella reached for her cell phone.
Damn…it was in her purse. Help wasn’t coming. She had to do this herself. She struggled to stand. She got almost up and fell back to the ground.
It was over. She hadn’t made it to safety. Ella slid her head to the cold bloody cement. Nothing she could do now. If only she had said something to someone sooner, but she always had to do things herself.
“My bad.” She whispered to the dark, crisp morning air.
Ella started to drift off. In her head she ticked off everything she’d stored, right there under everyone’s nose. She’d sent the letter pointing to where everything was, cryptically of course just in case the wrong person got to it.
But she’d made the call. She knew her partner would be on his way. She trusted him. He’d find away to put it all together. Ella had gathered enough to put it all into place, all but the why. They’d have to figure that one out themselves.
Ella’s eyes popped open. “Oh my God!”
A last bit of energy surged. She knew why. She had known what they were planning but not exactly why. Maybe it was a guess. Maybe it was her own impending death, but it all made sense. It was the only thing that made sense.
Why hadn’t anyone known this before? It was so simple. They had covered it up so long ago, but one of the players had lied. It made everyone scramble in the wrong direction.
Ella had gathered all the evidence but none of it would make sense until they knew why, and she was the only one who had figured it out. Even the players didn’t realize it. Bruno was just guessing, but it his guess had hit dead center of the bullseye, and that wasn’t even what he was after.
She had to tell them. But how? She wasn’t going to live out the hour unless she got help. No help was in sight. There had to be a way.
Ella tried to push herself up again. Her fingers were slick with blood, most of it hers, but some of it his. She smiled and eased herself back down on the cement.
She wasn’t seeing too well, but she did the best she could. Using her fingers as a pen and her own blood as ink she scrawled a message she hoped no one could ignore. When she finished she pulled herself up, covering it with her back.
Ella was happy. She could ease gently into that goodnight now.
“I had a feeling you were faking it…” Ella barely had time to open her eyes before the man’s boot came at her forehead and crushed her skull against the wall.
He examined his work closely this time. There’s no way she was faking it now. Bruno ripped the sleeve off Ella’s blouse and wiped her blood off the sole of his boot. He tossed it in the trash when he was satisfied he wouldn’t leave footprints and chuckled as he left her body.
When he turned the corner, disappearing into the maze that would lead him to anonymity, Ella’s body fell to the side with a thud on the ground. Fresh blood and brain matter trickled down the brick mingling with the message she left.
But it was there, shouting over her body like a cartoon bubble, one word still readable…”Hutton”.
He exhaled, “Man, there is nothing like a decent cup of coffee.” Kellen said as he sipped his second cup.
“Guess you don’t have that when you’re forced to make your own.” Andy jested.
“Okay back to the drawing board, none of your notes are included in the file or in the paperwork?”
“Not unless they supported his version of the story. Look at this, here are copies of my notes included in the paperwork package, there are even numbered pages missing…”
“But there’s nothing other than good guesses that link him to Blue Richards or Ian Justyn or give any other reason why he’d be so anxious to close a case that he’d leave out details that would keep it open.”
“None.”
Kellen shifted through a few things. “Okay let’s go back to basics…next of kin?”
“Girlfriend, Ella Myerson, shared an apartment on Fifth and Greene.”
“Anyone speak with her?”
“Balouche and I. Seemed pretty shocked and afraid…I think she knows more than she let on.”
“Follow up?”
“None. Peyton didn’t see the need. I’ve slipped over twice myself. She’s gone… clothes…the whole thing. Didn’t even claim the body.”
“Lends itself to knows more than letting on, but still nothing concrete…wait a minute, how did you get the address and next of kin?”
Andy sat back in the chair, “I just assumed Balouche fished it out of the wallet…”
“And the wallet would be…?”
“No where to be found.” Andy sipped his coffee and thought a moment. “I guess that someone from the scene could have told him, didn’t the girlfriend work with Ian?”
Kellen nodded. “But I’m the only one who was conscious who knew that connection and I didn’t say anything. At that time I just assumed that Blue had a wallet on him or one close by. From the time Blue and Ella arrived, they pretty much went their separate ways. I never saw them together once.”
“And we never found any personal effects, although we assume that the socks and shoes he was wearing were his, everything else had been taken from Justyn’s closet. Sweats, shirt and ski mask all had Justyn’s name written with a laundry marker on the tag. Wasn’t wearing underwear.”
“It’s like he showed up naked…and he didn’t. I answered the door when he arrived. He was wearing khaki shorts and a blue button up. Of course the next time I saw him he was naked…in the Shores pool. That’s the last time I saw him…”
“What about her?”
“Sitting around with others while Ian had the power pow wow, haven’t seen her since then. How did you get to her apartment?”
“Balouche…said let’s go talk to next of kin, he drove, we arrived…”
“There’s your connection, Balouche had been there before…”
“But why?”
“Still a mystery…Richards worked as a bartender, but at a trendy night club, if Balouche had ever been there I’d have known about it.”
“I’ve never been there either, but I swear I’ve seen him somewhere before…just can’t put my finger on it though…”
“When you remember it may be nothing….”
Andy looked down at his feet. “I need to ask a personal question….”
“Shoot...”
“You and Balouche…from what you said at the station, you guys had a personal relationship that went sour?”
Kellen laughed. “Sorry, but that’s putting it mildly. Let’s say our wives had a very close relationship for a little over a year. Our wives are still a couple…”
“Is it possible that Balouche has been stalking you?”
“Very doubtful…”
“Why?”
“Because my dog hates his guts. Growls and tries to bite him anytime he’s near. I can pretty much guarantee you that if his car pulled up in the driveway, Ralphie would start foaming at the mouth…”
“Thought maybe he’d been caught by Blue watching you when he was watching Ian…”
“We still don’t even know that for sure. Were DNA tests done on the semen?”
“Never saw any reports, in fact, never saw the area, was just told about it and saw it written in the report…”
“Could be as bogus as the report then…”
“Could be…”
“I’ve got to get to the hospital. My turn to stand guard….”
“You’re with me on this then…”
“Absolutely. Let’s keep quietly digging on our own. We’ll meet up on the sly and exchange notes and theories. Maybe together we can figure this out quickly.
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