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Authors: Jennifer Harlow

Justice (10 page)

BOOK: Justice
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The guard, Dodd, is finally awake. Thought you’d want to be there when I talk to him.

This perks me up like a verbal cup of coffee.

Yeah. Hell, yeah.


I’ll swing by your place in twenty. Bye.

Twenty minutes to turn human again. I toss on my gray suit, purple shirt, brush my teeth and hair, scarf down a Pop Tart, and clip on my badge and gun just as Cam buzzes his arrival. Out the door I go.

Cam sits in the idling car and barely waits until I get in before pulling away. Like me, he resembles the walking dead with bloodshot eyes and sallow skin. At least he didn’t go on the national news looking like that.


When did Dodd regain consciousness?

I ask.


About an hour ago, poor bastard. He’s still pretty fucked up. We only get a few minutes with him.


Then we better make them count.

One of the many things I love about Cam is that silence doesn’t feel awkward with him. Neither one of us is a big talker, so we barely say three words on the ride to the hospital. Not that either of us has the energy for anything so superfluous as small talk.

Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow Hospital, Galilee’s crowning glory, sits right at the edge of the Andalucía River which separates the city proper from the state park and The Garden. I turn my head to the left and I see The Falls in the distance. The thirty-story white building is always busy with doctors, patients, and visitors filing in and out. Two ambulances pull up to the ER as we park. As we walk to the elevator behind an orderly pushing an old woman, I spot Veronica sitting in the waiting room, jotting down notes. She doesn’t see me. Crap, I really owe her a call.

Logan Dodd is on the fifth floor, the critical care burn unit. His private room is under guard by two uniforms. A middle-aged Indian man in blue scrubs and white lab coat approaches us.

I’m Dr. Amil Sharma, Logan Dodd’s physician,

he says.

Before you go in, you’ll need to put on protective gear to prevent infection.

Both the doctor and the two of us don our paper gowns, latex gloves, and face masks. We look ridiculous, but we don’t want our witness dying on us before trial just because I breathed my cooties on him. Cam looks at me and his eyes crinkle with a smile.


How’s he doing?

I ask.


As well as can be expected,

the doctor says.

We had to amputate his hand at the wrist, and he’ll need more skin grafts where the acid splattered his thigh. He’s in for a long recovery process, in all respects.


At least he’s alive,

Cam says.


He’s on heavy pain medication,

Sharma says.

Morphine. Please avoid agitating him, if possible.


We’ll be gentle,

I say.

Lying in his hospital bed, Logan Dodd looks less like a 6

3’ prison guard and more like a pale child. IVs and other tubes in nasty places hang from his body. The sheet covers the carnage inflicted on him. He’s awake, but his eyes are barely open. Doped out of his mind.


Officer Dodd, I’m Det. Cameron and this is Det. Fallon,

Cam says.

We were the ones who found you at the prison. We wanted to ask you a few questions about your attack.

Dodd tries to prop himself up using his good hand, but doesn’t have the strength. The other hand comes out from under the sheet. It’s wrapped in white gauze with a net over it. There are a few yellow spots where the ointments have leaked through. At least I think they’re ointments.

Um, okay,

Dodd says, still groggy.

Cam sits in the chair by his bedside, and I pull out my notepad.

We’ll try and make this as fast as possible, okay? What can you tell us about the night you were attacked?

I ask.


Everything was normal. Everything was fine,

he says through the drug haze.

We’d just checked on the inmates.


You and Stu Moore?

Cam asks.


Yeah. I was in the office reading a magazine, when I heard Stu shout something, I don’t know what. I checked the monitor. Alkaline was out. He stood across from Moore, something coming from his wrist. Then Stu’s head, um…

The boy can’t finish. As part of Alkaline’s sentence, the holes where Ryder’s acid reserves spring out, through the extra hollow bones in his wrists, were surgically closed. It must have hurt like hell when the bone pushed through.


Where was Stu when this happened?

I ask.


By Alkaline’s cell. Where he died.


How did Alkaline get out?

I ask in hopes of sparing the poor kid.


I don’t know. I wasn’t watching the monitors. I should have been when Stu was walking the block, but…

Dodd tears up.

I don’t know.


What happened next?

Cam asks.


I ran out there. But…he got me. I couldn’t think. He had Stu’s gun on me. I was so freaked, I forgot to pull mine. He told me to take off my uniform and give him my card key. I did.


And then?


He said ‘Thank you.’ He took the card, smiled, and then…it came out of his wrist again. That bone, and then the acid. It hurt so bad.

He’s crying now, almost sobbing.

My hand. It just fell off. I’ve never felt anything like that in my life. That’s the last thing I remember.


I think that’s enough for now,

the doctor says.


Just a few more questions,

Cam says,

please. Is that okay, Logan?


I guess,

Dodd says, trying to calm himself down. He takes a few deep breaths.

I want this over with.


Were any of the guards particularly attentive to Alkaline?

Cam asks.


I don’t know,

he says,

I noticed he had an extra brownie for desert once.


Any idea who gave it to him?


Maybe Stu, I don’t know. It was like a month ago.


Did he ever speak to you? Alkaline?

I ask.


We weren’t allowed to talk to him. He never even tried with me.


Did you ever see Officer Moore talk to him?

Cam asks.

Dodd is quiet for a second.

I don’t think so. I don’t know! I don’t know how he got out! When are you going to find him? He—he’s gonna come back and finish me off! Why haven’t you caught him yet?

The kid has gone wild, trying to kick his covers off.

Dr. Sharma steps over to him, acting as a buffer between us and Dodd.

Okay,

the doctor says,

that is more than enough.


He’s gonna kill me!

Dodd shouts, near hysterics.


You have protection,

I say.


Leave. Now,

Sharma says.

The big, bad police walk out just as Sharma injects a drug into Dodd’s IV. I rip off the stifling protection in frustration.

You woke me up for
that
?

I ask with a sigh.


Could have gone better,

Cam says.


They’re not going to let us back in there,

I say,

not until he’s discharged. Not that it matters. He didn’t see shit.


Or he’s lying and he’s the one who let Ryder out,

Cam says.


We’re not going to find out anytime soon. They won’t let us press him, and we’re running out of time. If that psycho isn’t about to do something heinous, then I’m a supermodel.

We start walking down the hall toward the elevators. I punch the button hard enough to break it.

You need to chill,

Cam says.

You’ll get an ulcer.


You sound like Justin,

I say. The elevator doors open and we step in.

I’m being held together by coffee and adrenaline. If I chill, I’ll fall to the ground and start babbling like an idiot.


Still.

We get off a few seconds later. Just as we pass reception, a woman calls my name. Rebecca, dressed in purple scrubs and white lab coat, runs over to us with that perpetual sweet smile on her face. Just what I need.


I heard you were here,

she says as she reaches us.


Lucky me,

I say with a fake smile.


It really is lucky! I just got done assisting on a five-hour surgery when one of the nurses told me she saw you.

Five hours of surgery and her make-up and hair are still flawless, where as I resemble a three-day piece of road kill. She holds out her hand to Cam.

Hi. You must be Joanna’s partner, Cam. It is so nice to finally meet you.


Cam, this is Rebecca Thornton, Justin’s fiancée,

I say.

They shake hands.

I’ve heard a lot about you,

Cam says. And he has. I try to keep my thoughts about my private life to myself, but I sometimes spend sixty hours a week with the man. Things slip. Okay,
a lot
of things slip.


Me too,

Rebecca says.

So, you two are here to interview that poor guard?


Yeah,

I say,

but he’s in no shape to talk.


I heard it was ghastly.


It wasn’t pretty.


So, are you heading back to the station now? Because I sort of had an ulterior motive for coming down here,

she says sweetly, her nose crinkling and shoulders rising.


You did?

I ask.


Everyone I normally have lunch with is busy, and I hate going to the cafeteria alone. People always come up to me with questions. I can’t finish my meal.


Um—


You have time,

Cam interrupts. The traitor.

You’re technically not on the clock.


But you drove me here,

I say with a fake sweet smile


Take the Metro. You need to eat, don’t you?

Rebecca’s smile stretches from cheek to cheek.

Oh, please? Please?

Lack of sleep and yes, nourishment have made the lying part of my brain go on the fritz. I’m sure when she’s babbling on about the honeymoon or china patterns, a trillion will come to mind. But not right now. Now, I’m screwed.


I can’t think of a reason why not,

I say.

If at all possible her smile grows.

Wonderful! I’m starving.

She wraps her arm around mine and pulls me away. Cam has a huge grin on his face. So much for my brother in blue.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Girlfriends

This is the only hospital in the country that has gourmet chefs on the payroll and a ballroom. Since Rebecca’s paying I load up with scallops, pork chops, and chocolate mousse. She just orders the watercress soup and Caesar salad.

Must fit into my wedding dress,

she chirps with a broad smile. Rebecca looks so beautiful it almost hurts my eyes. Plus she saves people, whereas I arrest them. Whenever I’m around her I leave little drops of self-esteem in my wake. I really have to stop that or I’ll have none left.

All the other doctors grin and wave as she passes and a few patients’ families do as well. I’ll lay even odds she was popular in high school too. Voted

Most Likely to Succeed

and prom queen. The only people I was popular with were the truant officers. I trail behind her like her shorter, less attractive shadow. We find an empty table next to a window, and I can see The Falls in the distance across the river. I love looking at it. The waterfall, a quarter mile wide, cascades off black rock. That white water over black onyx always draws a crowd.


I am starving,

she says as she takes a baby bite of her salad.


Me too,

I mutter with a good helping of pork chop in my mouth.


But I have to lose five pounds before the wedding. I just
had
to choose satin. It leaves nothing to the imagination. Have I shown you a picture of the dress yet?

Only half a dozen freaking times.

Yeah. It’s beautiful.

And it is. Sleek ivory satin, sleeveless, with crystals and tiny pearls swirling around. Only ten grand for something she’ll wear once. Okay, I have to stop thinking like this. She’s wonderful. Justin is the happiest he’s ever been. I have an awesome boyfriend. I’m a lucky girl. If I just keep telling myself these things, maybe I’ll start believing them.


I can’t wait to show it to you on,

she says with another bite of lettuce.

Will you still have time on Saturday to meet us at the dress shop? They really need to fit your dress. I finally decided on sky blue to match your eyes. You are going to look gorgeous! I’m dying for you to see it. I have the whole day planned. The shop, then lunch, then I was thinking we could go for pedicures. Mom’s never had one before.

Oh, lord save me from female bonding.

We’ll play it by ear,

I say.

If something comes up or there’s a break in the case…I’ll do my best.


You have to be there. At least for the fitting. Half an hour, tops.


I can’t control these things.


But if you’re not there, then they won’t have time to alter the dress.

Why do I get the feeling that after this I’m going to get a nasty call from Justin?

Look, I’ll do everything in my power to be there. I promise. Same with the party tomorrow night.


I know, I’m sorry,

she says with sincerity.

I swear I’m turning into the supervillain Bridezilla. It’s just that my last wedding was at city hall, and I always regretted that.

Her previous husband Micah, the father of Daisy, was an abusive bastard who she divorced when she was seven months pregnant. Brave of her. He is currently doing a stint in prison for assaulting his boss and shares a cell with Big Bubba. The woman learned her lesson and has definitely upgraded.


Maybe we should just fly to St. Tropez and elope,

Rebecca continues.

Get married on the beach with just family there, but I guess it’s too late. The invitations are out and the food is ordered.

She sighs.

I’m just so exhausted. It’s like I have three full-time jobs, what with here, the wedding, and Daisy. I wish I knew Dr. Avatar. Maybe he could clone me. Never a supervillain around when you need one, huh?


I seem to be having that problem as well.


Oh! I’m sorry! That was a silly thing to say. How is that going? Have you been working around the clock? I’ll bet you have. Justin says you’re the most tenacious person he’s ever met.


It’s going well. We have a few leads. We’ll find him.


Well, Justin is just frantic with worry about you. I had to convince him not to phone the mayor and bar you from the case.


He was going to do that?


He had the phone
in his hand
. But I told him you were a grown, more than capable woman who the people of the city needed out there if we expected to find this monster,

she says with utter conviction.


Thank you,

I say, and to my surprise I actually mean it.


He is just so protective of you.

She takes another bite. Almost all my food is gone, but half her salad and all of the soup remains.

To be perfectly candid, it bothered me a little in the beginning. I thought maybe he was in love with you, or vice versa.

My heart skips a beat.

But then, as I watched the two of you, I sort of fell in love with him because of your love for each other. How open, how honest and warm he was with you. It showed me what a good man he is, and how much I wanted someone to feel those things for me too. That connection. That love.

Her smile doubles, if possible.

And having you in my life is just an added bonus. I would like nothing more than for us to be best friends.

She shakes her head.

You’re so strong and fearless. I feel like a meek little nothing compared to you. I wish I could be that way. And I can’t believe I’m admitting this to you, but I’m still sort of threatened by you. I mean, I know Justin loves me with all his heart, and I know you both have too much integrity to ever cheat, but I am. You two have this bond like nothing I’ve ever seen. I’m a little jealous. I just hope one day you and I could have a relationship like that. I want it more than almost anything.

Okay…I feel like total and utter shit. They could do a full-scale model of the Eiffel Tower with the amount of shit I feel like right now. For months I’ve been praying that a hole would swallow her up. Or aliens would abduct her. I’ve been standoffish, and just a bitch behind her back. And all this time she’s been admiring me, and wanting nothing more than to be my best friend. They’re reserving my spot in hell right now.

It’s hard to process that she’s been comparing herself to me and not stacking up, as I’ve been doing with her.

I don’t know what to say.


You don’t have to say anything. I’m sorry I put you on the spot like that.

She covers her face.

I’m so embarrassed.


Don’t be. It’s…I’m sorry if I did anything to cause you to feel like that,

I say, genuinely meaning it.


You didn’t. It’s me. It’s all me and my stupid insecurities.

She lowers her head, shaking it.

Anyway, the uncomfortable soul bearing portion of our meal is over with.

She smiles again.

Time for the fun stuff. Are you bringing anyone to the engagement party tomorrow? Or the wedding?

Subtle.

I’m afraid I’ll be flying solo tomorrow night
if
I can go.


Oh,

she says sadly.

Well, maybe you’ll meet someone tomorrow night. A lot of people from the hospital are coming. There’s actually this really brilliant neurologist I worked with in Independence who I’m just
dying
to introduce you to. He’s one of my oldest, dearest friends, and the sweetest man alive. I think you’ll really hit it off.

I take a bite of my brownie.

Please stop trying to set me up. Between you, Justin, and Cam’s wife, I think I’ve had dinner with the whole male population of Galilee by now.


We just want you to be happy.


I am happy,

I say quickly.

I’m happy for you. And Justin. The rest, well, it’ll come when it comes. No rush.


Maybe with Dr. Ambrose,

she says with a knowing smile.


Maybe.

It’s times like these I wish I could tell the world about Harry. Shout it from the rafters that there’s a descent, hardworking man who thinks I’m worthwhile. But that would be too much like right. Too grown up. Too real.

The rest of lunch is filled with the dreaded girl talk about the wedding, Daisy, and of course Justin. The way she talks about him, and looks when she’s talking about him, grates me. It’s akin to hero worship. Her eyes double in size, she gets a silly grin on her face, and giggles more than any grown woman should. V’s told me I look exactly the same way when I talk about him. Strange to see the same look on your rival’s face. No, not rival. No doubts now. She loves him just as much as I do. No. Stop. Not doing this. Not anymore. She’s not a rival, there wasn’t even a contest. You lost years ago. Think of other things.

I keep a smile on my face and half listen, my mind wandering a tad. If Dodd’s recollections are correct, then Moore was the only one who could open the cell. It is possible that one of the other guards left it unlocked and Ryder waited until night, but I doubt it. Why take a chance that someone on duty would notice? No, Stu Moore just became suspect number one. Ryder killed him so he couldn’t talk, poor bastard. But what if—


Don’t you think?

Rebecca says, pulling me back.


I’m sorry?


Our hair. I think I’ll have an up-do with daisies, and all the bridesmaids will too. Are you okay with that?


Fine. I’ll do whatever you want.

Her face scrunches up.

I’m boring you, aren’t I?

she asks.


No, sorry. I’ve just got work on my mind. I actually should get back to it.

I take a final bite of my brownie before rising.


Okay,

she says, also standing. Before I can stop her, she pulls me into a hug. I hesitate for a moment, my arms suspended at my sides not wanting to put forth the effort, but I force them to embrace her back.

Be safe.

I pat her back.

I will.

She releases me, a smile of course there.

Thank you for having lunch with me. I really appreciate it.


Of course. Bye.

And I rush out of there before she can say another word.

Veronica remains at her post, waiting for something to report. She perks up when she notices me coming at her like a cruise missile.

Hey,

she says.

I grab her arm and pull my surprised cousin out of the chair.

I promise to answer all your questions if you leave with me. Right now.


What? Why—

Rebecca walks to the reception desk to ask something, but spots us. She smiles and waves. We respond in kind, though the sentiment is different on this end.

Oh,

V says through her smile.

I lock my arm in V’s and pull her away toward the exit. I need a drink.

***

V’s Irish genes are recessive, at least in regards to the desire to consume alcohol. The girl, and I use the term loosely as she’s a year older than me, barely touches the stuff. She’s always been the good one of the family. College graduate, owns her apartment, and until recently was in a long term relationship with a criminal defense attorney. He and I had fun conversations at Thanksgiving.

The story goes that my Pop was dating my hell-beast mother when she introduced him to proud new Papa, Uncle Ray, Aunt Emily, and three-month-old Veronica. Pop held the little baby and that was it. That night he knocked up Mom just so he could have his own little angel. Don’t know if I should thank her or smack her. Depends on the day.

Where alcohol is my drug of choice, V’s is coffee. She has about six cups a day, and since it’s more socially acceptable to indulge her addiction in the middle of the day, we stroll down the riverwalk to a coffee shop a few blocks away. We sit inside as far from everyone as possible in the corner.


You know, I’ve seen her all of three times,

V says as she sips her drink,

and
every
time she’s had a smile on her face.


I’ve seen her a billion times and can say the same thing,

I say.


Nobody is that happy all the time without pharmaceutical intervention. You sure she’s not on happy pills? Cause if she is, I want a prescription.


No. She’s just like a fairytale princess with birds fluttering around her head, chirping a melody or something.

I sip my black coffee.

And why not? She escaped the evil ex-husband, has a precious daughter, she saves babies all day, and now she’s got the handsome prince madly in love with her. Hell, I’d smile all the time too.

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