The Second Shooter

by E. A. Briginshaw

  “My daughter said she was trying to push him out of the way,” said Bronx’s father.

  The nurse turned to him. “She probably saved his life.”

  “When will he be awake?” Henry asked.

  “We put him into a medically induced coma for the surgery,” the nurse said. “It will probably be a few more hours.”

  Henry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “He’s in a coma?”

  The nurse reached out to comfort Henry. “Yes. We gave him some drugs to put him into a coma, but just for the surgery. It’s a lot safer that way. Once the swelling goes down, we’ll be bringing him out of it.”

  The nurse wheeled the stretcher to a special recovery room and began hooking David up to a myriad of monitors that tracked every vital sign, including an EEG to track his brain activity. There was hardly any activity, with only periodic pulses. The entire family hovered outside the door, watching and waiting.

  “I’m sorry,” the nurse said, “but you’ll have to go back to the waiting room. There’s not enough room in here for you. There’s nothing you can do and it will be several hours until we decide to wake him up.”

  Henry noticed there was one chair in the room. “Are you sure I can’t stay with my son?”

  The nurse could see the concern on his face. “Okay, but just you. The rest of you will have to go back to the waiting room.”

  Henry sat in the chair and looked at all of the monitors that hummed and beeped. He had no idea what any of them did.

  “He’s going to be okay,” the nurse reassured him as she left the room.

  As Henry sat there, he found himself rocking back and forth to the sound of the machines. It felt as if his own heartbeat fell into the same rhythm as his son’s.

  * * *

  “Mr. Shaw,” the nurse said as she gently touched Henry’s arm.

  Henry awoke with a start to see the room now had several doctors and nurses in attendance. “What’s wrong? Is David okay?”

  “Yes, he’s fine,” the nurse reassured him. “The swelling has gone down and we’re going to bring him out of the coma now. We thought it would be best if you were the first person he saw when he opened his eyes.”

  The nurse helped Henry from his chair and held him as they stood alongside the bed. He watched as one of the doctors injected something into David’s IV. Within a few seconds, the EEG was showing more and more activity. The other monitors also increased their beeping.

  It was only a few seconds later when David opened his eyes. “Hey, Dad.”

  Tears began to stream down Henry’s face. “Hi, son. It’s good to have you back.”

  David’s eyes scanned the faces of the strangers who were all watching him. “Where am I?”

  “You’re in the hospital,” Henry said.

  “David,” one of the doctors said. “Could you tell us when your birthday is?”

  David paused. “May 13th.”

  “And what school do you go to?”

  “Wilfrid Laurier.” David was confused as to why they were asking him these questions.

  “What was the name of your first pet?”

  David had to think for a second. “Duddly.”

  The doctor looked at Henry for confirmation. “Yes, Duddly was the name of our dog.”

  The doctor smiled at David. “I’m just asking you these questions to check your memory.” He patted David on the shoulder. “And it appears that you’re doing just fine. Congratulations.”

  “I was just having the strangest dream,” David said. “Duddly was licking my face. I kept trying to get him to stop, but he wouldn’t. He just kept licking and licking.”

  Henry looked concerned. “Duddly died a few years ago. You remember that, right?”

  “Of course I do,” David said.

  “That’s nothing to worry about,” the doctor said. “People have been known to have some strange dreams when they’re coming out of anesthetic. David, we’re going to unhook you from all of these machines now and move you to another room. But you’re going to be in the hospital for a while yet. You’ve been through quite a bit and you’re going to have to take it slow for a while.”

  “Okay,” David said.

  “Do you have any questions before I go?”

  As David thought, he suddenly started to remember the shooting and the panic spread across his face. “Is Bronx okay?”

  The doctor looked confused.

  The nurse leaned in to whisper to the doctor. “Bronx is the nickname of the girl who was shot.”

  “I’m not at liberty to say,” the doctor said.

  The nurse could see the concern on David’s face. “She’s fine,” the nurse whispered to David when the doctor turned away. “She’s probably going to be released within the next few days.”

  David sighed in relief.

  As the doctor exited the room, he was approached by Detective Tremblay. “Is it okay if I ask him some questions?”

  The doctor looked back at David. “The anesthetic might affect some of his memories for a while yet. I’d give him another day if I were you.”

  * * *

  The detective called his chief. “The Shaw kid is awake and it looks like he’s going to make it, but the doctor doesn’t want me to talk to him until tomorrow.”

  “Does he know we’ve got another potential murderer out there on the street?”

  “No, I haven’t shared any of our findings yet. The doc said the anesthetic they gave him might mess up his memory for a while. I’ll try to talk to him again first thing in the morning.”

  The chief sighed in frustration. “We just got word that the professor’s office was broken into. They did a real number on it – trashed all of the computers and took a bunch of stuff.”

  “Do you think it was the guy in the hoodie?”

  “Not possible. The prof’s assistant said everything was fine when he left the office at ten, and the guy in the hoodie was already dead by then.”

  “Have we got an ID on him yet?”

  “No,” the chief said. “And we might never get one.”

  “Why not?”

  “The body’s gone. Someone stole it right out of the morgue. We’re checking the security tapes as we speak to try to figure out who took it.”

  “This case just keeps getting stranger and stranger,” the detective said.

  “We better get someone to watch the Shaw kid. If someone wanted him dead, they might make another attempt. I’ll send over a uniform to camp outside his room.”

  “I’ll watch him until he gets here. No one will get to the kid on my watch.”

  * * *

  Robert was totally exhausted when he climbed out of the taxi in front of the residence. It was only about seven in the evening but he’d been up for over twenty-four hours straight. Now that he knew David was going to be okay, he was hoping to get some sleep. As he approached the elevators, he was surprised to see Vanessa sitting in the cafeteria. She came out when she saw him.

  “How’s your brother?”

  “He’s going to be okay. They got the bullet out, but it was really scary there for a while.”

  Vanessa gave him a hug. “I’m so glad. You look exhausted.”

  “I am. I’m going to go crash, but I want to go back to the hospital again first thing in the morning.”

  Vanessa grabbed his arm. “Let me help. You look like you could fall down any minute.” She continued to hold his arm as they rode up in the elevator. “You’re a good guy, you know. You and your brother don’t deserve any of this.”

  When they got to W308, Robert was alarmed to see that the door wasn’t locked. He was even more alarmed when he pushed the door open and saw the chaos inside.

  “Oh my God,” Vanessa said. She started to walk inside, but Robert pulled her back and quickly dialed 9-1-1 on his cellphone. The police were there in a matter of minutes.

  * * *

  “The only things they took were our computers,” Robert said to Detective Tremblay a few hours later
.

  The detective could tell this was not a typical robbery. It was obvious that the room had been completely searched, yet no one in the residence had seen or heard anything.

  “We’re going to dust for fingerprints,” the detective said, “but I don’t think we’re going to find anything.” They hadn’t found any clues at the professor’s office and he was sure he’d come up with the same result here. These guys were pros. Evidence was disappearing at an alarming rate – the weapons from the shooting – the CDs or whatever the professor had given David – even a body from the morgue.

  “Do you have a place you can stay for the night?” the detective asked Robert.

  Vanessa grabbed Robert’s arm. “You can stay at my place if you want,” she whispered to him.

  “Thanks, but I’ll probably just get a room at the hotel. That’s where my Dad and the rest of my family are staying. I sort of want to be around family right now.”

  “I understand,” Vanessa said.

  “I’ll have one of the officers drive you,” Detective Tremblay said as he waved one of them over. “I’ll see you at the hospital in the morning. I plan to interview your brother first thing.”

  * * *

  David was starting to look more like himself again. His face had regained a healthy pinkish tone and the swelling on the side of his neck and head had gone down substantially. In fact, he had asked for something to eat, but the nurse had refused. “Not yet,” she said. “You’re getting everything you need right now through the IV.”

  The whole family had come to the hospital that morning to see David, but the nurse had only let Henry in so far. “He still needs a lot of rest, so we’ve got to take things slow,” she said. She also knew that Detective Tremblay would be arriving soon to question him.

  “How are you doing this morning?” the detective said when he arrived a few minutes later.

  “Pretty good, except that I’m starving.”

  “That’s a good sign. That means you’re getting better. Do you feel up to answering a few questions?”

  “Sure,” David said.

  The detective pulled a notepad and pen from his pocket. “We understand that you were meeting the professor at the bus stop to get something from him. Can you tell me what that was?”

  “Some CDs.”

  “What was on the CDs?”

  David looked at his father. He knew that his father had told him not to have anything more to do with the secret society because it was too dangerous. “Sorry, Dad.”

  “It was some files that I had given to the professor to hang onto,” David said to the detective. David proceeded to tell him about the secret society and how he had been arrested by the FBI in Chicago. “The files were encrypted, but the professor had cracked it. He was bringing me a copy of the unencrypted files.”

  “What was in the files?”

  “I don’t know. I never did see them, but they apparently have something to do with the Kennedy assassination. The professor told me the files showed who really killed the President.”

  The detective stopped writing. If that was true, he knew they were in way over their heads. Was this kid telling the truth or just suffering from a severe blow to the head? It would explain a lot of things – whoever had shot them and then made the evidence disappear were professionals.

  “Before we go down that path, let’s focus on who shot you and the professor. Did you see who that was?”

  “I think it was the guy in the hoodie. The professor had just handed me the CDs when he got shot. Is he okay?”

  No one had told David what had happened to the professor. “I’m sorry,” the detective said. “He didn’t make it.”

  The colour drained from David’s face.

  “Is the guy in the hoodie the one that shot you?” the detective continued.

  “I think so,” David said. “Bronx had yelled that he had a gun and she was trying to push me out of the way. She’s okay, right?”

  “Yes, she’s fine. We think the same bullet went through her before it hit you. Do you remember anything else?”

  “I remember lying on the ground. I knew I’d been shot, but I couldn’t move or feel anything. I heard someone gathering up the CDs and then the guy in the hoodie was standing over me. He pointed his gun right at my head. I closed my eyes and then I heard the gunshot.”

  David turned to his father. “How am I not dead?”

  Henry looked as pale as his son. “Someone shot the guy in the hoodie.”

  “Who?” David asked, looking back at the detective.

  “We don’t know. But we know he was killed with a different gun than the one that was used to shoot you and the professor. Do you remember anyone else being there?”

  David thought as he relived the incident again. “There was a lady across the street walking her dog.” David turned to his father. “That’s who was licking my face. That wasn’t a dream – it wasn’t Duddly – it was her dog that was licking my face. I couldn’t move, so I couldn’t get him to stop.”

  The detective had no record of the lady. According to their investigation, the first person on the scene after the shooting was the bus driver – the one who had rushed over with the emergency kit.

  “Do you remember anything about this lady?” the detective asked.

  “She was blond – I remember that – but she was across the street so I didn’t get a good look at her face. But she was there after the shooting because I remember the dog licking my face.”

  “Do you remember anything else?”

  David thought again. “She said something.”

  “She spoke to you?”

  “I don’t know if she was talking to me or not – maybe to the guy in the hoodie – she said I’m sorry – you didn’t deserve this. That’s the last thing I remember.”

  “You’ve been a great help,” the detective said. “I’ll let you get some rest now, but just let the nurse know if you remember anything else. I won’t be far away.”

  Finally, he had a lead. The lady with the dog was probably the person who had removed the gun and the CDs from the scene. But if she was involved, why would she have shot her partner? Something still didn’t add up.

  Detective Tremblay walked down the hall to call in the results of his interview to the chief. “I just interviewed the Shaw kid. It appears that whoever wanted the CDs sent an entire team for the job. He said there was a blond lady with a dog that gathered up the CDs and the gun after the shooting.”

  “Is she the one who shot the guy in the hoodie?”

  “I don’t think so,” the detective said. “The M.E. said he was shot with a rifle. There’s no way she’d be out walking her dog with a rifle on her hip – it would be too conspicuous. This was a professional hit. I think she was there just to clean things up.”

  “Do you think the kid is still in danger?”

  “I don’t know,” the detective said. “If they wanted him dead, the lady with the dog could have easily killed him. Maybe all they wanted was the files back.”

  “So, if she didn’t shoot the guy in the hoodie, who did?”

  “We don’t know – probably a professional sniper. The bullet they pulled from him wasn’t a normal bullet. It was the kind used only by a military or police marksman.”

  *** Chapter 25 ***

  It was around noon a few days later when Bronx was released from hospital. Her father was pushing her out in a wheelchair.

  “Can we make a stop before we leave?” Bronx asked her father.

  “Sure. What do you need?”

  “I’d like to stop and say goodbye to David before we go.”

  Her father stopped at the desk and asked one of the nurses for David’s room number. David sat up in bed when he saw them at his door.

  “What are you doing in a wheelchair? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. They just have some silly rule that patients must leave in a wheelchair. I think it’s just so they don’t get sued if you fall down on the way out.” She
turned to her father as she got out of the wheelchair. “Dad, can you give us a minute?”

  “I’ll be just down the hall, but don’t be long. We’ve got a long trip ahead of us.”

  Bronx went over to the side of the bed and gently touched the bandages on David’s neck and head. David reached out and held her arm.

  “A long trip? Where you going?”

  “My dad’s takin’ me back to New Yawk. Says I’d actually be safer back in the Bronx. It was hard to argue with him sportin’ a bullet hole in my chest.”

  “What about school?”

  “I was probably gonna flunk out anyway. This just gives me a good excuse to start over. My dad wants me to enroll in Brooklyn College next year – says it’s the poor man’s Harvard.”

  David could not hide his disappointment. “I was hoping that maybe we could…”

  Bronx didn’t let him finish. “When you’re up and about again, you should come see me in New Yawk. I could show you around. I think you’d love it.”

  “I might just do that.” David smiled at her. “But I hear it can be a pretty dangerous city. Who’s going to watch my back when I’m there?”

  “Me, stupid. I already told ya – in the Bronx, we watch each other’s backs.”

  David held her hand. “Yeah, I know. The doc said you probably saved my life when you pushed me to the ground. Thanks.”

  “It was nuthin. But you’re gonna have to stay out of trouble once I’m gone. I wouldn’t want anythin’ to happen to ya.”

  Bronx’s father appeared in the doorway. “We should get going.”

  “Okay. I’m coming.”

  She gave David’s face one last caress and started heading toward the door. Suddenly, she turned and raced back toward him and gave him a kiss. This wasn’t a little peck on the cheek. It was a full open-mouth kiss that almost sucked David’s tonsils right out of his throat.

  “Sorry,” she said. “But I’ve been dyin’ to do that for a long time.”

  Then she was gone.