The Light at the End of the Tunnel

by James W. Nelson

  “Well, the police wouldn’t know the difference, not quickly anyway, and maybe we should try to find the real parents.”

  “Good idea, but in a country of 300,000,000 people, where on earth would we start?”

  “Maybe he re-incarnated close to where he was executed,” Nicole offered, “That would narrow it down.”

  “You’re correct, my dear—what a partner you are! All I have to do is make a request and you come up with a solution.”

  “A possible solution, anyway.”

  The detective returned and pushed the door open part way, and spoke, “The older boy has been processed, do you want to see him?”

  “Could we actually speak to him?” the chaplain asked, “He could shed some light.”

  “I guess that would be possible. Say, I’ve been wondering what connection you folks have—“ The detective was interrupted by another detective as they passed through a room full of desks and other detectives.

  Another save by the bell.

  “Devin!” Their first detective gestured to another detective, “Could you take these folks in to have a chat with the boy Jasper?”

  “No problem.” The second detective stepped up and directed them down a hallway, “Your son?”

  “No relation. We just want to ask him what he knows about the other boy.”

  “He’ll probably lie to you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen this kid before. Always juvie, though. I was along when we picked them up the other night. I think little Jasper thought the worst that could happen would be they would be picked up by Family Services again. Not this time, sonny. Rape is a felony.”

  “And the other boy?”

  “Well, he helped…to a point, I guess, but I doubt he’ll be staying here long, not if it’s his first offense, anyway.”

  Believe me, it’s not his first offense. “Do you mean first offense with the law?”

  “Yes. If he’s had offenses with the foster system we won’t know that…yet, not until he commits a felony himself.”

  He will.

  “Well, here we are. You can sit at the table and talk through the glass to him. I’ll get him out here soon as I can.” The detective left.

  “Radford, I wonder if it’s a good idea to talk to this boy. What if he tells Baby Boy? I mean, we don’t want Baby Boy to know about us, yet, do we?”

  “I doubt they’ll even see each other again, especially if Baby Boy goes back to Family Services.”

  A door opened off to their right and a young boy maybe fourteen entered, looked at them, then settled on the chair across from them, grabbed the phone and motioned to the phone on their side.

  “He probably thinks we’re here to help him, Radford. Maybe he thinks we’re attorneys.”

  The chaplain knew Jasper couldn’t hear what Nicole had just said, not until he pressed the button on the phone. He nodded to Nicole that he had heard. Good thought, my dear partner. What would I do without you? Maybe it was time he told Nicole how much he appreciated her input, how much he appreciated her.

  He pushed the button.

  “What do you good people want?” Jasper asked.

  “We have a couple questions, if you don’t mind.”

  “What about?”

  “The boy who helped you perform the rape, Jasper—“ Jasper smiled crookedly at mention of ‘rape’—what did you think of him?”

  “An idiot! I don’t think he has a damn clue!”

  “But you do.”

  “Damn right, man, I wasn’t born yesterday!”

  “Okay, Jasper, but what did you think of the other boy? Did you like him?”

  “Didn’t have time to even get to know him. We had like four hours together.”

  “Four hours?”

  “Yeah, that stupid foster lady—she even escorted him to our room, even had her hand on his shoulder, even acted like she wanted to hug him. What a dumb bitch! She asked for what she got, man!”

  Enough! This boy was not going to tell them anything they didn’t already know, “Well, thanks, Jasper, we’ll be going now.” He hung up the phone.

  “Hey! What about me? Don’t you want to know about me?”

  Not really. They turned their backs and slipped through the door, did not see their first detective, or their second one, and they hadn’t yet been asked anything officially.

  “Why don’t we just quietly leave, Radford? I don’t feel nearly as comfortable in a police station as the family service centers, and that second detective I don’t think will even miss us.”

  He glanced at her. Nicole’s radiant smile was lit.

  As they left they noticed a young man in uniform—the only uniform in the room—glanced up, and for one second looked directly at them.

  ****

  First detective reappeared about ten minutes after the chaplain and Nicole had left, “Devin! Are those two PD’s still back with the boy?”

  Devin looked up from his desk, “Ahhh, I don’t know.”

  First Detective hurried to the door leading to the meeting room, “Gone! Christ, man, how could you let them just walk away?”

  “Well…,” Devin stood up and held his arms apart, “What did we want from them?”

  “Their names for one thing, and did anyone see their PD licenses, or badges, or anything? Hell, do private detectives even carry a badge?” First Detective looked around the room full of desks and detectives filling out reports. Nobody responded. “God! I work with morons!” First Detective glanced around the room again, “Please, somebody tell me you at least got a vehicle description!”

  Finally a young uniformed patrolman stood up, “They’re driving a cream minivan, sir…probably the chick’s outfit.” The young patrolman grinned, “I’d say the old man is more a four-door sedan type.”

  “Old man…?”

  “Hey, he’s got white hair…I guess the rest of him doesn’t look so old…not too old for his partner, anyway.”

  “Yeah,” First Detective said, “He kind of reminded me of the priest in that Tom Hanks movie.”

  “Wasn’t that The Da Vinci Code?”

  “I think so,” First Detective said, “And didn’t that priest have some kind of genetic problem?”

  The patrolman waved, “Yeah, probably.”

  “So, did you get a license plate number too…?”

  “Got that too, sir. From the great state of Nebraska.”

  “Good work, patrolman. You put in your papers for advancement. I’ll sign’em. In the meantime you do some research on those two, if anything comes up you’ll be with me.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir!”

  Chapter 31 Marriage

  “Radford,” Nicole said as they were leaving town, How on earth did Les Paul get way down here to Kansas?”

  “I’d guess Nebraska simply gave up on him.”

  “Ya think?”

  “Stranger things have happened, I imagine. Maybe it’s not even official, maybe someone who handles the children brought him down here.”

  “To get rid of him?”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “Come to think of it, yes, I would have given up long ago.”

  “And you did…wouldn’t even finish changing his diaper.”

  Nicole laughed, “You’re so right.” She hesitated, then blurted it right out, “I want to go back and adopt Cassandra.”

  “I wish we could, kid, but there’s one little problem. We still aren’t married.”

  “But we could get married.”

  “My dear, you are a smokin’ hot young woman—what are you, anyway? About thirty?”

  “Thank you, Chaplain Ohare, I’m thirty-nine. I was still thirty the day we met, and I would marry you in a minute, and I think it’s time we had this conversation.”

  “We’ve really been together for nine years, Nicole?”

  “As they say, ‘Time flies when you’re having fun.’ So what about it?”

  “But why would you marry me?”

>   “Because of the kind of man you are, Radford. You have given up your career to go after this criminal, and now you’ve found him. You could have just forgotten that book you came across—most people would have—in fact, most people wouldn’t have been trusted to see it. You could have kept your job and your apartment and your retirement, and now you have nothing.”

  “I have you.”

  “Yes you do—stop the van and park in that field by that tree.”

  “What?”

  “Please, Radford, just do it.”

  He did it, then waited for further instruction, “Now what?”

  “Put it in park and shut the motor off.”

  He did that too, and again waited. Nicole had that smile—that he couldn’t get enough of seeing—shining.

  “After we heard that story about those two boys raping that woman we didn’t take time to even stop so I could show you what you mean to me. So now I’m going to. Come over here, Radford, and kiss me.”

  The chaplain swung his legs toward her, then reached for her, slipped his right hand and arm behind her and around her waist and his left hand under her legs, then, surprising even himself, he lifted her from her seat and onto his lap. The kiss happened, just a gentle peck on her closed lips, but Nicole wouldn’t allow that to stand. She enveloped him with one hand and arm around his back, the other behind his head, and opened her mouth for a real kiss…and was not disappointed.

  They had kissed before, but mostly just those quick peck and retreat kisses, and never before on the lips. This time she forced a real kiss, and she had known for a long time that, with a little physical encouragement, she would never be disappointed by kissing the chaplain, “Now, sir, we aren’t that far from Las Vegas. Let’s go get married.”

  “All right, young lady, I am all yours.”

  ****

  “Their names and a credit card number just showed up in Las Vegas, Lieutenant,” the young uniformed patrolman said

  “Las Vegas?” First Detective wasn’t expecting Las Vegas.

  “Yes, sir. Justice of the peace. They just got married.”

  “No shit…!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, now that you’ve got a name and a card number. Track them.”

  Second detective Devin looked up, “You mean they can do that?” he asked, “Follow a person by credit card use? Like they do it on TV?”

  First Detective glanced at Devin and gestured to the patrolman, “Well, fill him in, patrolman.”

  “Yes, sir, I’ve already started—yeah, it’s true, Devin. With their plate number I got her name and some history. I can go backward too. The guy is a bit fuzzy yet, but wherever she has been this credit card number shows up, so I just put 2 and 3 together—“

  “Isn’t that ‘2 and 2’ together?” innocently asked the second detective.

  The patrolman looked at Devin, then glanced at First Detective and gave a slight grin, then back at the screen, “You’re right, Devin, it is ‘2 and 2.’ My bad. Anyway, so far just charges for food and gas. They must be living in that van, partly anyway—oh, wait, just before Las Vegas they paid for a motel room.”

  “Good. Okay, patrolman, you keep going, and check into that kid they wanted to talk to also—no, wait, check into the one they just wanted to see, too—hell, check into the foster care system about both of those boys—especially the blond-headed one—at least as far in as you can go. They sort of feigned interest in the blond,” First Detective added, “But that’s where their interest lies. I’d bet money on it—do what you can, Patrolman.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  ****

  Pretty sure they would now be able to keep track of Les Paul, the chaplain and Nicole were on the second day of their honeymoon. They had drunk a little, gamboled a lot, and had visited several clubs to watch the comedians, dancers and singers.

  But their own hotel had the best food, at least according to Nicole, “I love the salads they prepare here,” she said, as the chaplain seated her, “And the toppings, I wish I could get some of their recipes.”

  “For enough money I expect you could,” he offered.

  “How are we doing on money anyway? Do we have any pay coming from Riley?”

  “Riley’s holding our money for us, and, long as my bank continues paying my credit card bill we’ll be fine.”

  “And you have a bottomless account?”

  “Not really. My dad left me some money, and a farm that I’ve never visited since I’ve grown up. I get rent money every autumn for grain and corn, and for cattle running in the pasture.”

  “Wow!” Nicole exclaimed, “The three of us could live there happily ever after!”

  “Yes, we could.” That thought had crossed his mind too, and he wasn’t surprised that Nicole jumped right on board. He had long suspected she would be a downhome type of girl.

  “How come you’ve never mentioned this farm income before?”

  A legitimate question. He thought for a minute, “I can’t answer that, Nicole. It’s been such a long time since I’ve been there…it’s almost like it doesn’t really exist. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you.”

  “So we’re okay…financially?”

  “Pretty okay, yes.”

  “Good. So have you thought anymore about us adopting Cassandra?”

  “Nicole, we don’t know a thing about that girl. She could be a sociopath by now. And she might have parents that will again…eventually, want her.”

  “Yeah, right, eventually—why don’t they want her now?”

  “And, of course, she might be an orphan. I guess they do still make them.”

  Nicole smiled, “I’m glad to see you can make a joke.”

  “Sweetheart, as you said, we’ve been together for nine years now. Surely I’ve made a joke or two before now.”

  “Not many, my man. You’ve been a pretty serious guy.”

  “Well, we’re on a serious mission.”

  “And what do you mean by sociopath, Radford? I believe sociopaths are born that way. I don’t think they just become one.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, my dear. I was referring to the way she has lived: kicked around in the foster care system, raped at seven years old. That kind of life can harden a person, especially a child. I’m just saying, even if we could get to adopt her, I think we would have a lifetime job of bringing her back from the brink.”

  “She just needs love, Radford. You saw how she looked at me, how she…wanted to trust me.”

  “Yes, I saw it too, my dear, well, here comes our server.”

  Chapter 32 Learning his Trade

  Les Paul couldn’t figure out why he was still in jail. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Sure, he squirted a little urine, or something, on his new foster mother but that was an accident. He wasn’t sure it was urine, though. It didn’t exactly feel like it felt when he urinated, similar, but a lot more intense…he didn’t really know how to describe it. He liked that intense sensation, though, but pretty much didn’t have a clue as to how it could possibly happen again.

  He wondered about Jasper, too. They had ridden in together in the police car but were separated as soon as they reached the station. Jasper had been different during the ride. He didn’t say much, seemed scared if anything. Strange, though, for the few hours he had known Jasper he had never seen fear in him. Just a lot of hot air, arrogance and obnoxiousness, two of the new words he had learned listening to some of the school girls talking about some of the boys. Still in the third grade at nine years old.

  Lots of pretty girls in the third grade though, but the boys mostly just teased them, or bullied them, or showed off to them, or even ignored them if the prettiest girls weren’t around. He had too, but he wouldn’t ignore them in his next school. And he looked forward to his next school, as he had learned a few things about girls. Not the details about girls he wanted to know, but maybe the girls would help him. Far back in his mind he suspected there was something special about third-graders, or girls t
hat age or that size…and that recent memory of being in a cave came back, with his woman, and his little girl child, and what had happened, and his feelings about the younger girls—he shook his head furiously and refused letting the memory continue, and felt surprised that he could stop it. But another one began to take its place. The second one he couldn’t stop…

  He was riding somewhere in a car. Lots of people on the street. He was riding but everybody else was walking. There didn’t even seem to be any other cars, not anywhere. He wondered how that could be. People weren’t even watching out for the car he was riding in. Men, women, children—then he saw them. A woman, a beautiful woman about thirty, with brilliant black hair…she looked familiar. And a little girl, about six or seven, a beautiful child with flowing hair like her mother’s but lighter. She too looked familiar, in fact, the two together looked familiar, as if he had seen them every day, but where? People seemed to be celebrating something. He didn’t know what, and didn’t care!—Just another stupid ass memory that wasn’t even his! He shook his head so hard it hurt. It even felt like it hurt his neck but he kept shaking it! Get rid of that stupid, stupid-ass, memory!

  It went. But still another began taking its place…

  He felt his arms being…shackled; then he was climbing a stairway with a man in a uniform on either side of him. They reached a platform; the two men guided him to stand in a certain spot. They tied his legs. People were standing around everywhere. They looked like cowboys, and pioneer women, and kids, lots of kids, boys and girls both. Some of the boys had grins on their faces. The girls just stared with wide eyes. Then they put a black bag over his head and tied it closed—then he felt something nudge his head, then slip over his head and go around his neck, then tighten…a lot, then it went slack and he heard a man reading something—a Bible verse he thought. Then it was quiet. Maybe whatever was happening was over…then he heard a loud noise like metal against wood, then the floor beneath his feet opened…

  He heard a loud snap. He heard his neck break. He felt his body hanging and swinging, his tied legs whipping but doing mostly nothing, then all was quiet.

  Les Paul came out of those memories and wondered why he had seen such a thing. It seemed horrible, and he didn’t want to remember, and he stopped remembering, and the memory went away as if it had not happened. Then he realized he was hungry, he wished for a hamburger and a malted milk—if he was free he could have what he wanted.