by Zoey Derrick
“You son of bitch!” I rage. “How dare you speak of any human being that way! We do not live in a world where you eliminate people just because they don’t fit into your business plan, Elton Bennett. I will see your son fry for what he’s done, and I will gladly stand by to watch you take the fall with him.”
Glaring at me, he spits blood and mucus onto the floor. “You’re not old enough to understand the true meaning of business. Do not ever talk to me like that again. In business you do what needs to be done to survive.” His face contorts and he bends over and dry heaves, no doubt from the pain. “You have a choice to make Blake. Either reinstate your investment or so help me God I’ll have you arrested for assault and destroy MSBE.”
“Bullshit! That does not include murder and my stance with your investments will never change.” I peer through the window towards Vivienne’s room and fight a grin from spreading across my face. The cops outside of her room are making show of looking at the ceiling and rocking on their heels. I stalk past him, push the crash bar on the door and step out into the hallway.
As the door clicks shut behind me, I reach into my pocket, remove my BlackBerry and press pause. At the touch of a couple more buttons, the recorded conversation is on its way to Detective Stevens’s email.
Thirty-Five
As I approach Vivienne’s door, Amanda comes back out of the room.
“She alright?”
“She’s great. Stubborn as all hell, but she’s doing good. She wants the sling to come off. Said her shoulder doesn’t hurt. I told her that it was up to the doctor and that I would discuss it with her. I know that Alston wanted to take some x-rays, but when we went in to get her you were sound asleep on her bed, so we decided to wait. Once she’s done that, she’ll decide what to do next.”
“Thanks, Amanda.”
“Of course. Call if you need anything.”
I go back into the room. The bed has been lowered again, and Vivienne’s eyes are closed. What a difference watching her sleep now compared to before. Color has returned to her cheeks and the absence of the hoses makes her look human again.
Her cheeks are flushed. No doubt the trip to and from the bathroom was exhausting.
I quietly walk over to the chair and sit down.
“Don’t pry with her.”
Hello, Seraphina. I hadn’t planned on it.
“I know, but she seems to be doing a pretty good job of suppressing what’s happened. She does remember, but, no doubt due to the years of abuse she’s faced, she’s learned how to suppress much.”
I’d already assumed that and it’s the reason I’m not pressing. I know she will need to talk to the cops at some point, and I’d rather she save her energy for that conversation. I will make arrangements for her to meet with someone she can trust to discuss all this bottled-up trauma.
“Don’t be surprised if she won’t do it. She will when she is ready, and not before. But it will only come at a time and place she knows with absolute certainty she is safe. All I ask is that you give her some time to get there.”
I roll my eyes. I know, Seraphina, this is not my first rodeo. Are we forgetting my sister?
I change the subject to avoid more lecturing I don’t need. So, that dream. What on earth was that all about?
“Well, first of all, you weren’t on earth.” She laughs and I shake my head. “You were in Elysium.”
Elysium Fields? As in Greek mythology, where you go when you die?
“The same, only we no longer call it Fields. The mythological definition of Elysium is ideal happiness, though that’s not entirely accurate. It’s a place where angels live. A place where you yourself can go anytime you wish. The souls of the dead do pass through Elysium, but they do not stay unless they have a predestined purpose for being there. Like your mother, for example. She passed into Elysium upon her death because it was where she was supposed to go.”
What about my father?
“That is something you will need to discuss with your mother. It is not my story to tell. But your mother is free to pass between heaven – as you call it – and Elysium. You will likely be able to do the same, should you wish.”
As I call it? What do you call heaven, if not heaven?
“It used to be known as Aether, though not many of us call it that anymore. If you know some of your Greek mythology, then you would know that Aether was the first of the elementals to be born and represents the purest life and happiness. In all honesty, heaven and Aether is really all the same. But where the angels gather is separate. Those in Aether do not pass into Elysium, and vice versa. Unless, of course, you are one of the Chosen, which I believe you are.”
What makes you so certain about that?
“You will find out soon. It is not something I can tell you.”
Bull— I stop myself.
She laughs. “No, really, I can’t. I’m bound by restraints that prevent me from disclosing certain secrets, and that is one of them. Just like you are unable to tell anyone other than those of your own species that you’re an angel. Try it sometime.” She laughs again. “Okay, I’m going to go. Red will be here shortly, and I’m neglecting my chores.”
She doesn’t stick around long enough for me to argue. I feel the rush of her leaving my mind and body.
Thirty-Six
About thirty minutes later, Red arrives with dinner for Vivienne and me, and Amanda brings it in.
“How long has she been sleeping?”
“About half an hour. She was sleeping when I came back in after her trip to the bathroom.”
“Oh, okay. I’d try and wake her so she can eat. Plus, Alston will be back in shortly. She was going to be on her way up after seeing a patient with a smashed in nose downstairs in the E.R..” She smirks at me in a I-know-what-you-did kind of way.
“Alright.” I say quickly before I start laughing hysterically at the fact that Alston is more than likely treating Bennett’s busted nose. I’m not sure what to make of his whole ordeal, but it proves my earlier theory about doing anything to get what he wants.
Amanda goes about checking the monitors and IV fluids.
Elton came here to try and ‘convince’ me to reinstate my investments, as if I would see things his way.
Amanda interrupts my thoughts. “She can start drinking water, too. The ice chips were a way for her to slow down her intake. Her throat is probably pretty sore and will be for a day or two.”
I nod. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”
She smiles and leaves.
I gently stroke Vivienne’s arm. “Vivienne,” I say softly, and her eyes flutter. “Dinner is here.”
Her eyes flutter again, but they don’t open.
“Come on, sweetie.” I rub her arm a little more and she finally, slowly begins blinking, waking up. “Hi, there.”
She smiles. “Hi,” she breathes.
“I have soup. Are you hungry?”
She nods and I go about unpacking the dinner Celeste sent over. She’s included her creamy chicken noodle soup, minus the big noodles and hunks of chicken. Instead it is more of a broth. And she used little tiny ring noodles. There are also bread rolls and some crackers.
“Smells good,” she whispers.
“Is your throat bothering you?”
She nods.
“The soup should help.”
She nods again.
I pour soup from the thermos into one of the two bowls Celeste put in the basket. The soup is steamy and smells wonderful. I reach for the button to raise Vivienne up, and I notice as she tracks my hand’s movement. I mentally shrug it off and raise her up. She starts to pull her arm out of the sling and I scowl at her.
“It doesn’t hurt,” she says a little more vehemently.
“I know, I just—”
“Mikah, please, it’s alright.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I just...” I pause. “I just really need you to get better. I don’t want to see you do unnecessary harm to yourself.”
“Honestly,
all things considered, I feel pretty good. Just very tired.”
I smile at her. “I will try and remember that. Now eat. Before it gets cold.”
Maybe she really is mending that fast. Maybe those markings on her back play a great deal into her quick recovery, and maybe they’re the reason the bleeding had stopped by the time I found her. Maybe they’re even the reason she’s still alive. Chances are good that Riley wouldn’t have left her apartment until he thought she was dead.
I grab my BlackBerry and text Jack with one question: Has there been any announcement regarding Vivienne from the police?
I know that Elton was here, but he wouldn’t know what kind of condition Vivienne is in. The only way he could know anything is if it has been leaked to the press.
I grab a bottle of water from the basket and open it for Vivienne, then grab one for myself and sit back down.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” she asks.
“When you’re done, I’ll take from what’s left. I want to make sure you get enough to eat.”
“This will be enough.”
“We’ll see.”
My phone chimes and I glance at it. It’s a reply from Jack:
No. All they’ve said is that they are investigating the deaths of a police officer and a young woman. They’ve said that there is some information that suggests both are related, but that is about all at this point. Why?
“Is everything okay?” she asks me.
As I look up I realize that my brow is furrowed. I relax it quickly. “Yeah, just checking on a few things.” I take a sip of my water.
“You don’t have to stay.” I can hear an underlying sadness in her voice.
“I have no place else to be other than right here. Unless of course you want me to leave.”
She shakes her head quickly. “No, I want you to stay, I just don’t want to keep you from anything.”
I smile at her. “You’re not. I’m trying to get some information on what has been sent to the media regarding you.”
“Why?”
“Curious, aren’t we.” I smile.
“A little.” She smiles back at me and takes another spoonful of soup into her mouth. “This is really good.”
“Celeste is a great cook.”
A scowl comes across her face and she looks up at me, confusion in her eyes. I can feel the tension and concern coming off of her.
“Oh. No, Celeste is my housekeeper. She’s the one who put all this together for you.”
As soon as the word housekeeper leaves my mouth, the crease on her brow disappears and her eyes almost glow. “Oh. I thought...” She turns away, back to her food, and takes another bite.
“That she was someone else?”
She nods.
I smile again. “No, Vivienne, there is no one else.” Only you, I say, but only in my head because that is just too much right now.
She takes a few more bites in silence, then asks a question that catches me off guard. “Did you find me?”
Thirty-Seven
“What?” is all I can think to say.
“In my apartment. Did you find me?”
“Are you sure you want to discuss this?”
She nods slowly, hesitant.
“We can discuss this another time, Vivienne. We don’t need to do it now.”
“I need to know.”
I take a deep breath, trying to decide if this is the time to do this. I’m not entirely convinced that it is, but if it helps her feel more at ease...
“Yes, it was me.”
“How did you know?”
“That’s complicated. I can’t say for certain how, but I knew. I...” I pause and take a drink. Standing up, I walk toward the foot of her bed. “I’d planned to be here at the hospital when you got here for your appointment. I really needed to talk to you.” I walk back to the chair and then back toward the end of the bed. The pacing helps me think about the best way to explain all this.
“So I didn’t show up?”
“No, I...um, was running a little earlier than I planned, so rather than go to the hospital, I went to your apartment. There was a cab waiting out front.”
“I don’t remember calling for a cab,” she says.
As I turn back toward the chair she is looking at me. “I think Dr. Alston had called for one for you.”
“Oh. So what did the cab sitting outside have to do with anything?”
“Well, I assumed that you were still inside your apartment. Then, as time passed, I grew more and more concerned about why you weren’t coming out.” Back and forth I continue to pace, slowly. “So I called Detective Stevens.”
Her head pops up at the name and a look of frustration and anger crosses her features.
I’m confused by her reaction. “What’s wrong?”
“He was supposed to protect me.” Her voice is small, but a hint of the tiger is in it. She’s angry.
Anger surges through my body at her words. She’s right – he was supposed to protect her, and he failed. “I don’t want to defend Stevens, because I don’t think he deserves it, but there were some unforeseen circumstances that got in the way of that.”
Her eyes flare wider for a moment, as if she’s remembering something.
“Do you know...?” She stops there.
“The cop that was stationed outside of your apartment was killed.”
I watch as her eyes glass over. “Mr. Crowley, my neighbor. I remember Riley saying something...” She stops.
“I don’t know anything about him,” I say.
She takes a deep breath, steeling herself. “Why did you call Stevens?”
I can see in her eyes that she doesn’t want to further discuss Mr. Crowley. I vow to ask Stevens or Jack about it.
“They came by my place Thursday night because of my car being near your apartment. That was when I learned about Rebecca’s murder and the association between her and Riley. Stevens told me that you were under MPD protection. And then I knew that I needed – for my own peace of mind if nothing else – to be at your apartment to see you leave to meet Dr. Alston.”
I continue pacing and I notice that she’s stopped eating. “You have to finish your soup if you want me to keep talking.”
She nods and goes back to it.
“The next few minutes in the story are a bit of a blur. I had Stevens call the officer that was stationed outside your apartment for a status update. When the officer didn’t answer, I ran across Lake Street to the cop’s car, only to discover that he’d been killed. That’s when I went into your building. The rest, I imagine, you can figure out for yourself.”
She finishes off her bowl of soup, takes a hunk of bread from the roll, and takes a bite, wincing as she swallows. She dips the bread into the bowl and soaks up the last of the liquid. She takes a smaller, soaked bite and then puts the rest down again. “I’m full.”
“Are you sure? There is more soup.”
“No, I’m sure.”
“Alright.” As I start to clean up, I finish my story. “I’ve been here at the hospital since they brought you in, and I’ve been in contact with Stevens, who will be anxious to talk to you.”
“What’s there to talk about?” she says sulkily.
I smile at her attitude. “Well, they’re going to want to know what happened.”
“There’s not much to tell. I only remember little details.” She is staring off at the far end of the room. “He came up behind me just as I was about to open the door. After he pushed me inside and shut the door, he threw me down onto the floor.” She takes a deep breath. “That’s when my arm broke. I was trying to protect the baby by stopping myself from falling on my stomach.”
My heart lurches in my chest. What she went through is just unbelievable, but I know I need to let her get it out.
“I passed out from the pain after he kicked me in the ribs.” She squeezes the blanket in her hand so tight her knuckles turn white. “When I woke up next, I was strapped down on the bed, something ov
er my eyes and mouth. My shoulder was in so much pain that I couldn’t even feel my arm until I tried to free myself. My wrist was bound and broken.”
I reach for her hand. She doesn’t flinch or look at me, but she allows me to pull her hand away from the blanket and interlace our fingers.
“I don’t remember much after that, other than something cool and sharp running along my chest. I think I passed out again. The next thing I remember is waking up here.” She finally looks at me, and there are tears in her eyes.
I use my free hand to wipe them away. “You’re alive, you’re safe, and I will let nothing harm you.”
“Have they captured him?”
I shake my head, and Vivienne begins to shake.
“Hey, hey, hey. Breathe, Vivienne. In. Out.”
She takes a deep, shuddering breath in and lets it out.
“Slowly,” I say. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”
I gently squeeze the hand I’m holding. The monitor beside me starts beeping. My head snaps up to see what is going on. Her heartbeat is erratic.
Then I hear the blood pressure cuff on her arm go off. She squeezes my hand harder.
“Vivienne, look at me.” She turns to look at me. I smile at her. “Hi, darlin’. Take a deep breath with me. Ready?” She nods but I can see that she is turning pale. “In.” I watch as her chest expands with mine. “Out.” I watch as she slowly exhales and count to eight in my head. “Good, again.”
We repeat the process again.
Then another machine starts going off. I look and see that her blood pressure has spiked.
Thirty-Eight
At the same time the blood pressure alarm goes off, I can hear commotion outside. A couple seconds later, the door clicks, and in walks Amanda.
“What’s going on?” She looks to me.
“Keep breathing, Viv.” I turn to Amanda and the door clicks again. Dr. Alston is standing in the doorway. “We were talking and she started to freak out. First the heart monitor went off, then after the pressure cuff was done, the next one went off.”
