Renegade World: Future Past (22 page)

He rubbed his eyes. “Water, please.”

Investigator Bear nodded and stepped out of the room,
closing the door behind him.

“Investigator Bear!”

He turned and smiled at the petite, grandmotherly woman. “Anna!
I haven’t seen you in years.” He hugged her.

She stepped back and returned his smile. “I’m back, but just
part time.”  She stared at him. “So give me the straight scoop, Bear.”

“When the officers arrived at the scene, they found Billy
holding a gun, dazed and slumped down against the wall. Billy’s father was
unconscious next to a shattered window. Outside the window, they found a woman,
who identified herself as a doctor. She and her daughter were trying to stop
the bleeding of the victim, Raul Martinez, age eight. Martinez was also
unconscious. The officers carried the boy to the street just as an ambulance pulled
up. The doctor and her daughter went in the ambulance.” He raised his eyebrows.
“The doctor is Dr. Anita Evangelista-Schmidt.”

Anna’s eyes widened. “The Anita Evangelista-Schmidt?”

“Yes.” He waited for a follow-up question but continued as
Anna stayed silent, chewing her lower lip. “The officers read Billy his rights
but did not question him. They recovered eight cases, seven of them from
outside the warming house door. It appears that it took Billy seven shots to
get the door open. The officers suspect that the father threw the victim
through the window.  Billy isn’t big enough to have done that. They also
suspect that the father choked the victim based on the marks on the victim’s
neck.”

“According to the officers, during the ride to the station,
Billy blubbered the whole way and kept repeating that he didn’t want to do it,
that his father made him.” He shrugged. “Honestly, my first impression is that
Billy is not the violent type, but he is scared.”

Anna blinked. “And he doesn’t want his mother either?”

“No.”

“You leave out anything, Bear?”

“Nope. At this point, you know what I know from the crime
scene.”

“The Schmidts?”

“I have an officer with them at her private clinic.”

“They didn’t take Martinez to a hospital?”

“According to the officer, her clinic was closer. Dr.
Schmidt has two nurses and another doctor assisting her.”

“Let me guess. Dr. Rebeka Lee Johnson.”

He nodded. “How’d you know?”

“Dr. Johnson volunteers at the same free clinic as I do.
She’s tight-lipped about what she does, but I know she works with the Schmidts.”
She chewed on her lip again. “Do you find it strange that two of the most
gifted doctors in the country are working on Martinez?”

He shrugged. “I’ll withhold my opinion until after you
interview Billy and I interview Dr. Schmidt and her daughter.”

“May I see my client now?”

“Let me grab a water for him. I’ll be right back.”

When he returned, she took the water from him and went in. The
boy was lightly banging his forehead against the table. She set the bottle of
water down on the table next to him. “Billy?”

He lifted his head up, revealing his blotchy, red forehead,
watery eyes, and red nose.  She offered him a tissue that he used to wipe his
eyes and blow his nose.

“I’m Anna King, and I’m here to help you. Why don’t you
take a couple sips of water and then we’ll try to figure this out together.
OK?”

He nodded, unscrewed the cap and took three long gulps of
water. He looked at her, his eyes tearing up, and said, “I shot her.”

“Shot who, Billy?”

He shut his eyes and slumped back into his chair. “Naami
Schmidt.”

Had his eyes been open, he would have seen the shocked
expression on her face. She bit her cheek and waited to see if any other
revelations were forthcoming. 

“I shot her. I didn’t want to shoot her, but my dad made me
do it. My dad says I’m not strong enough.” He hiccupped and took a sip of
water. “He’s right. I’m not strong. I should have resisted him or run away…or
something.” Rolling his eyes, he said, “God spoke to my father.” He took
another sip of water. “My father said I’d be damned to eternal hell if I didn’t
kill the devil’s spawn. He hit me when I said that it wasn’t God talking to
him…it was the tequila.”

“He wasn’t always a bad man. When my mom died, he started
drinking. He met my stepmother in a bar.” He shook his head. “She believes
every conspiracy nut, especially if they claim to have spoken to God, and she
blames all her problems on the non-white majority. She’s just plain evil, and
worse yet, Brenda is going to turn out just like her…if she’s not stopped.”

“Who is Brenda?”

“Her oldest daughter. She hates Naami because she can’t
push her around. Brenda was already talking Naami down to her mom when I made
the mistake of asking my dad to watch my Tae Kwon Do test. He and my stepmother
came to watch me.” He closed his eyes and began tapping his right heel on the
floor.

“Why was it a mistake?”

He opened his eyes and leaned forward. “Because Naami
showed me up. I was mad after the test, envious of how good this little kid was
and how big a loser I am. My life sucks!”

“Did I tell you that besides drinking a lot, my stepmother
does drugs? She claims they’re prescription, but she’s lying.” He closed his eyes,
slumped back again, and stayed silent.

“Billy? Thank you for being so honest with me. We’re going
to straighten all this out. You’re a good person, but even good people can
find themselves in a bad place.” She paused, looking for a response.

She cleared her throat. “I need to ask a couple of more
questions, and then we can take a break. OK?” She saw him nod. “Did you hurt Raul Martinez?”

“Raul?” He slowly opened his eyes and blew out a deep
breath. “No. I tried to shoot him, but I must have been out of bullets. He
knocked me back, and my head hit the wall. I remember hearing Raul choking, but
I don’t remember anything after that until the officer shook me.”

“And that was after you shot Naami?”

“Yes. I shot her with my last bullet.”

“Billy, give me a couple of minutes to talk to Investigator
Bear.” Getting no response, she left the room in search of Jack Bear.

She found him sitting at his desk, not a thing on it other
than his hands. In this digital age, paper was rarely used in a police station,
and since computer monitors weren’t used, desks only remaining function was to
give their occupant a measure of private space. “Hey, Bear.”

He looked up and raised his eyebrows. “So?”

“First, was he checked for a concussion?”

“An EMT checked him out. He had a bump on his head and may
have had a minor concussion.” He paused as he viewed the report. “His eyes were
good, and he showed no signs of dizziness or other symptoms.”

“Good. Now, about Naami Schmidt.”

“Dr. Schmidt’s daughter?”

“Yes.”

“What about her?”

“Was she injured?”

“There was no mention of any injury.” His eyes flashed.
“She was there with Martinez?”

She just gave him a tight-lipped smile. “How soon will the
Schmidts be here?”

“Let’s see. It’s 9:05 now. They should be here within an
hour.”

“OK. Alert Child Protection Services. I suspect child abuse
brought on by drinking, drugs, and mental instability on the part of one or both
parents.”

“Will do. You going to give me a hint about what you found
out?”

She smirked. “I already did.”

A
t 10:00, Jack Bear looked down the hallway and saw a
woman and her daughter walking toward him. The woman’s eyes were hidden by
darkened glasses, and her long, curly hair appeared to float behind her as she
calmly glided toward him, every step precisely the same as the previous step.
The girl, on the other hand, seemed to vibrate with energy. She skipped and
bounced down the hallway, two steps in front the woman, somehow never getting
in her way. In her hand, she had a white plastic shopping bag.

The girl suddenly bounded ahead of her mother. With five
long strides followed by a jump, she landed on both feet right in front of his
desk. “Investigator Jack Bear, I presume.”

“Yes.”

She held out her hand to him as the woman—her mother he
presumed— stopped behind her. “I’m Naami Schmidt.” She shook his hand.

He smiled at her. Her handshake was strong, and she looked
strong. While her mother was tall and fit, her muscles weren’t as pronounced as
her daughter’s.

“Investigator Bear, this is my mom, Dr. Anita
Evangelista-Schmidt.”

She stepped forward, and he shook her hand. Her handshake
was surprisingly strong, and he had the feeling she wasn’t deliberately trying
to squeeze the blood out of his hand. She showed no expression as if her mind
was somewhere else, a world hidden to him behind her darkened lenses.

As she released his hand, Naami jumped between them. “Which
interview room are we going to be in?”

Surprised at her question, he laughed. “Three.”

“Let’s go.” She started skipping down the hall and turned
left at the corner. He hurried to catch up with her, perplexed as to how she
knew where to go. He looked back and saw Dr. Schmidt following behind.

He saw Naami hesitate as she passed the interview room that
Billy was in, and then she disappeared into the door of room three, two doors
down from Billy. He shook his head. From behind him, he heard Dr. Schmidt say,
“She likely pulled the architectural plans.”

Naami was sitting behind the table when he walked in. He
waited for her mother to enter, and then he closed the door. As he sat down
across from Naami, Dr. Schmidt sat in the other chair which was behind and to
the left of Naami’s. “Dr. Schmidt, you can pull your chair up if you like.”

She shook her head and then looked straight ahead, not
toward him or her daughter. He mentally shrugged and studied Naami. She looked
him straight in the eye until he glanced away.

She giggled and leaned forward. “Are you one hundred
percent Native American?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Cool. Of which people?”

“Dakota, Cheyenne, Hidatsa, and probably Mandan.”

“Cool. One of my ancestors was Mandan. At least, we think
she was Mandan, but she could have been Hidatsa too. The DNA tests are not conclusive
because the Mandan DNA probably was already so close to the Hidatsa's even before the
smallpox epidemic killed most of the Mandan, and the survivors likely married Hidatsa and Arikara
more often.”

“How old are you, Naami?”

“I’m five, but I’m tall for my age.”

“And you know a lot for your age.”

“It’s because I have an eidetic memory, and I’m curious
about lots of stuff.” She giggled. “Curiosity did not kill the cat.”

He grinned back at her and tried to take control of the
interview.  “That’s great. Let’s test your memory. Tell me what happened
tonight in as much detail as possible.

He listened in amazement as she walked him through the
events starting from the time she and Raul left the ice until Billy’s father
finally got the door to the warming house open. Much of the detail, he wouldn’t
have expected nor needed such as the fact that there were one hundred and four
two by fours on the ramp from the rink to the warming house, and that the
attendant had a gold stocking cap and leather mittens with white and black
liners. She also thought that he might have been in a hurry to go out on a date
because she smelled Tic Tacs on his breath.

“OK. Now tell me exactly what happened next.”

“Billy and his dad pulled the table over, and Billy was
pointing a gun at me. It was a Ruger subcompact. I couldn’t see the model
number because his hand was covering it.”

He leaned forward. “Wait! How did you know it was Billy and
his dad?”

“Oops, I jumped ahead. I didn’t figure that out until just
before Billy shot me.”

“Wait! He shot you?”

She giggled. “You want to see the bruise? It still hurts.”
She lifted up her shirt and showed him the large bruise, centered just below
and left of her solar plexus. “Want to know why the bullet didn’t kill me?”

“Yes.”

She put the white shopping bag on the table, and
dramatically pulled out a pink backpack. “Ta da!” Pointing to the hole in the
backpack, she said, “This is the bullet’s entry point.” She flipped the
backpack over. “No exit hole. The bullet is still inside, but I didn’t touch
it.”

“How—“

“How did the backpack stop it? It has three layers of material
used in body armor, two soft and one hard. It penetrated the first soft layer
and cracked the second hard layer, but it couldn’t get through the other soft
layer. The bullet did knock the wind out of me. It’s lucky for me that the
barrel was so short or the bullet would have hurt even more.”

“I was sure it was Billy just before he shot me. He wheezed
just like Billy does when we spar, and his eyes were the same shape, size, and
color. The man’s voice sounded like an older, crazier version of Billy’s
voice.”

“And you were that sure?”

“Well, I was ninety-five percent sure. But I’m certain now,
because I know you have Billy two doors down from us.”

He stared at her, and she stared right back. “How do you
know where Billy is?”

She blinked and then giggled. “A girl has to have some
secrets.” She leaned forward, smiled, and batted her eyes at him. “I’m right,
aren’t I?”

Before he thought about it, he blurted out, “Yes.”
Afterward, he wondered why he had answered.

She grimaced as she said, “After the bullet knocked the
wind out of me, Raul tackled Billy, and bounced Billy’s head hard into the
wall.  I still couldn’t get my breath when Billy’s dad grabbed Raul around his
neck with his right hand and lifted him off the floor.  Raul tried to kick and
punch his way loose, but he couldn’t. His face got redder and redder. I finally
got a breath, and I kicked the side of Billy’s dad’s knee. It knocked him off
balance, but as he fell, he threw Raul through the glass.”