Book Read Free

Burdened By Guilt

Page 10

by Michiko Katsu


  As he reached his car one of the cops canvassing the area stopped him with news of an eyewitness. Mike followed him down the street to the home of the witness wary of what he was about to hear. This could be the first break in the case or it could be an overzealous, lonely person in need of some attention.

  “Anderson,” Officer Stanovick said.

  “Stan. Whatcha’ got?”

  “This is Mr. Waja…Waja… This is Dan. He lives across the street and says he thinks he remembers seeing someone running around over here a few days ago.” Officer Stanovick pointed to the man with his thumb.

  “Wajamejeski. Daniel Wajamejeski,” the man said. Pause. Inhale. “Dan is fine.” He sounded like he had sixty grit sandpaper lining his esophagus and he paused to inhale pure oxygen from the tubes running up his nose. Neither his current condition nor the cause of it seemed of any concern to him as a hand rolled cigarette dangled between his cracked lips. He extended his hand and Mike took it.

  “Well Dan, I’m Detective Anderson. What can you tell me about the night in question?” Mike asked.

  “Well, it was three days ago sometime after 6:30 p.m.” Pause. Inhale. “I remember the day specifically because Boston was getting their asses handed to them.” Pause. Inhale. “I ended up losing three hundred bucks on that game. My wife is still givin’ me shit about that.” Pause. Inhale. “Anyway, I came outside after the game to smoke a cigarette – my wife doesn’t let me smoke in the house – and remember seeing a dark sedan parked over there in the dump with its lights still on.” Pause. Inhale.

  He lit his cigarette. Both Mike and Officer Stanovick stepped back and held out their hands. “Is that pure oxygen?” Mike asked.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Dan waved them off. “Don’t worry about it. If I was going to blow up I would’ve done it by now.”

  Mike and Stanovick looked warily at each other but kept their distance.

  Dan continued. “Now, normally I wouldn’t give it a second thought since there are people out there all the time.” Pause. Inhale. “But it was a real nice car and seemed outta’ place. I wasn’t able to see the make but it was real shiny and brand new.” Pause. Inhale.

  “What makes you say that?” Mike asked.

  “It still had the dealer tags on it.”

  Mike scratched his head as the first gnat circled.

  “Anyway.” Pause. Inhale. “I usually smoke two or three cigarettes before I go back in so I was out here for about fifteen or twenty minutes. I didn’t see no one around the car the entire time, which made me even more suspicious.” Pause. Inhale. “I started to wonder if it got stolen and dumped there until I saw a woman run over from outta’ the dark, get in the car and drive away.”

  Mike stiffened as gnat number two flew by.

  “That was pretty much it. I didn’t see anyone else coming or going. I had a couple more smokes after that wondering if someone else was going to appear just ‘cause it was so weird but I didn’t see nothin’ else.”

  “Why didn’t you call the cops?” Officer Stanovick asked.

  “For what? Watching some woman jump into her car and drive away?”

  “What kind of car was it?” Mike asked.

  “Like I said, I couldn’t tell exactly but was a black with four doors.”

  “What did she look like?”

  “Hard to say. It was dark and there ain’t no lights out there. The only reason I know it was a woman was because the lights came on in the car when she opened the door.” Pause. Inhale. “It’s been a long time since I seen legs like that, nice and muscular, like a runner. Perfect for wrapping around ya’ if you know what I mean. Don’t tell my wife though.” His laugh sounded like exhaust pushed through broken bagpipes. He winked at both men and when he didn’t get a response from either of them he cleared his throat and took a deep drag.

  The hairs on the back of Mike’s neck rose with the description of their only suspect. A woman, with athletic legs who drives a brand new black, four door sedan with the tags still on. His stomach turned over.

  "Can you remember anything else about her physical features?" Mike asked trying his best to be polite and show some relative indifference but his anxiety rose with his temper.

  "I told you it was dark and plus I can't remember that far back." Dan’s tone was less congenial giving Mike the impression he was done talking.

  "Funny. You didn't seem to have any problems with your memory ten seconds ago. Maybe you need to turn your oxygen up." Mike took a single step toward him and unfolded his arms.

  "So Dan,” Stanovick intervened placing himself between the other two men. “Just tells us anything that sticks out in your head about her or the car. Anything you can remember that seemed weird or out of the ordinary. Anything at all."

  "Like I said, nothing is really sticking out. Well, except one thing."

  "What?" Mike asked over Stanovick’s shoulder.

  Dan gave him an eat-shit-and-die look and talked directly to Stanovick.

  "She had on a suit and her hair was up in a bun. Just like the car I thought it was out of place around here. It fit with the car but not the neighborhood."

  Mike wanted to push Stanovick aside and rip the oxygen tube out of Dan’s nose. Instead he turned, walked back to his car and sped away.

  Chapter 21

  Mike wasn’t sure if it was panic or anger currently propelling him down the highway at felony speeds, his knuckles white as he strangled every mile out of the steering wheel. Cars streaked by like blurred photographs obscuring the details making the picture unfocused and confusing.

  How could he allow his judgment to be so clouded? Did she stage the attack just to throw suspicion off her should someone identify her at one of the crime scenes or was that just a coincidence?

  There are no coincidences, he yelled inside his head.

  She wasn’t Carolyn. He didn’t know anything about her yet he allowed himself to give her the unsupported benefit of the doubt believing she was a victim rather than an integral part of a triple homicide. All because of memories he could not forget, emotions so raw he could still smell her perfume, hear her laugh, taste the salty sweetness of her skin first thing in the morning. At first the comparison gave him a long-suffering satisfaction as if filling a void. Now, he only felt disgust.

  His judgment clouded he needed grounding, some perspective before he went down yet another path with insufficient and inconclusive information. Taking the next exit he dialed his cell and waited for the sound of the only voice he trusted.

  “Hey Miguel,” Rudy answered his unseen smile radiating through his words.

  “Hey Paco,” Mike responded, immediately feeling more at ease.

  “What’s up man?”

  “Hey, can you meet me for a drink or something? I got some stuff I need run past you.”

  “Can’t do it man. Maria’s about to put dinner on the table. Hey why don’t you come by? I know she’d love to see you. The kids too.”

  Mike was quiet. He loved Rudy’s family but didn’t like the idea of barging in on them as they were about to have dinner. “No, I better not. I don’t want to interrupt—”

  “You’re not interrupting. I’m inviting you. Besides I’m going to hang up and tell her you said you wouldn’t come over because her cooking sucks and the kids are too rowdy. Then you can deal with her later.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Mike protested with exaggerated fear in his voice.

  “You know I would and you know you don’t want to be on her s-h-i-t list especially when it comes to her cooking or her kids. I’ll lie amigo. You know I will.”

  Mike laughed. “Depends on what’s for dinner.”

  “I think she’s making spaghetti.”

  “Spaghetti? What the hell is a bunch of Mexicans doing eating spaghetti?”

  “We’re diversified my friend. It’s important to embrace all cultures. Now get you’re a-s-s over here. We can talk after dinner.”

  Rudy hung up the phone leaving Mike no option but to
show up or feel the wrath of Maria.

  Rudy and his family lived in a beige, two-story stucco home, the small front yard decorated with cacti, pink bougainvillea and a dry riverbed running from the sidewalk to the front entrance. The only features distinguishing it from every other house in the subdivision were the twin Kokopelli’s flanking the centered light over the windowless two-car garage.

  Rudy opened the door with a huge smile, extended his hand and clapped Mike heartily on the back while bringing him inside. Two German Shepherds sat attentively ten feet back from the door as four kids came running around the corner yelling “Uncle Mike, Uncle Mike” with their little arms outstretched all ready to be picked up.

  Mike always felt like he was walking into a giant hug whenever he came into the Rubio home. It was full of love and laughter and a sense of peace he didn’t have in his own life. He was an only child and his parents passed away during his twenties. Without any immediate family of his own, Rudy and Maria had welcomed him into their home and their lives many years ago. It was the only place where he felt an immediate sense of calm and tonight was no different.

  After Mike threw each of the little bodies into the air he followed Rudy into the kitchen. Five-year-old twin girls held each hand and two-year-old twin boys rode his size thirteen feet the entire way. The fourteen-year-old girl waved at him from the sofa never taking her eyes of her cell phone as she texted furiously on the keys.

  “Michael,” exclaimed Maria as she walked over to hug him. She made her way through her clinging children, leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

  Maria was a beautiful forty-eight-year-old woman with black hair and dark brown skin. Like Rudy she was also a third generation American. They met in college and married after graduation. Six kids and twenty-five years later they were still newlyweds in many ways. They waited to have children so they could finish graduate school and after a few years Maria became pregnant with their first who was currently a sophomore at Stanford.

  “Thanks for having me over Maria. I hope the last minute thing isn’t a problem,” Mike said, always polite in the Rubio household.

  “Don’t be silly Michael. You never need an invitation and you are always welcome. Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes so why don’t you and Rudy go into the living room and have a drink. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

  Rudy handed him a beer. “Come on Mike. Let’s talk.” Rudy pealed his protesting children off Mike one by one and shooed his teenage daughter off the couch.

  Mike sank down in the familiar couch as Rudy parked himself in his blue Lazy-boy. He sat quietly for a minute taking a few sips from his beer.

  “So, should we get into it now or is this going to be an all-night conversation?” Rudy asked. “This can’t be just because of your new partner. Tell me he hasn’t gotten under your skin that much?”

  “No, actually this doesn’t have anything to do with him. At least not directly.”

  “How’s he doing by the way? I mean on the job’n all,” Rudy asked between sips.

  “He’s young. There’s not much more to say about him other than that. Although I think he’s a schizophrenic Boy Scout.”

  “Schizophrenic Boy Scout?”

  “One minute he’s busting my balls the next he cowering behind me. I guess I can deal with him being so green but for God’s sake pick an emotion and stick with it. I can’t tell from one minute to the next if he’s gonna’ jump down my throat or run away crying. Plus he’s always prepared just like a Boy Scout. He’s got eye drops, tissues, breath mints, gloves, anything anyone could need he has it stuffed somewhere in his pockets.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad,” Rudy said.

  “It’s not really bad, it’s just creepy, like he’s watching and waiting in the wings or something.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Rojilio,” Maria chastised his choice of words from the kitchen.

  “I mean, wow, that really stinks man,” he quickly corrected. “What are you gonna’ do with him?”

  “What can I do? I’m stuck with him.”

  “True. Well I guess you better start boning up on your breathing exercises.”

  “I tried that.”

  “And?”

  “It doesn’t always work.”

  “Well, you could always shoot him and make it look like an accident,” Rudy said matter-of-factly.

  “Yeah, I guess that’s always an option,” Mike responded with equal sincerity as if it was a legitimate possibility.

  “So, if the kid isn’t what’s really bothering you, then what is?”

  Silence.

  “Dinner’s ready guys,” Maria called from the kitchen ending the conversation before it got complicated. “Please go wash up.”

  He wasn’t even sure what he would say to Rudy and more importantly he had no idea how he would react when he did say something.

  “We can get into it after dinner,” Rudy smiled knowingly and walked into the kitchen.

  They sat around the dinner table, Mike wedged between the twin girls Ava and Grace. It was no secret they both had a crush on Mike and would get into fights over who loved him more. Rudy and Maria tried to reason with them in the past letting them know they could both love Uncle Mike equally but they were old enough to know only one of them could marry him. It always overwhelmed Mike whenever he thought about it and he felt it was a privilege to not only have their attention but their affection as well.

  They held hands as Rudy said grace then began to eat. Conversations about the day, what happened at school, who got in trouble and most importantly what they were going to be for Halloween circled around the overcrowded table. The children laughed and their parents laughed with them. Mike watched, envious of their life, their love and the bond only breakable by death.

  “C’mon children. Tonight it’s Mommy’s turn to give the baths. Daddy and Uncle Mike need some grown-up time,” Maria said. Mike watched with amusement as they begrudgingly left with the less fun parent. And while this was a house of love and laughter it was also a house of discipline and the protests ended as quickly as they began.

  Grace, the more daring of the two, left a quick and almost imperceptible kiss on Mike’s cheek and ran down the hallway. Her little hands covered the enormous smile on her face, obviously winning a bet with her sister as giggles bounced down the hallway from their bedroom.

  “I think I have an admirer,” Mike joked as he retook his seat on the couch.

  “I’ll break your legs,” Rudy joked, his smile giving his feigned offense away.

  Mike laughed, sat back and took a long sip from his cold beer.

  “So,” Rudy said. “What gives? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this distracted in a while. Is this case getting to you that much?”

  “Sort of,” Mike responded unsure where to start.

  “Okay, so do you just want me to keep asking you questions you’re only going to answer cryptically or are you actually going to tell me what your problem is?”

  “I think I might have a problem.”

  “I think you have a lot of problems.”

  “And I’m not sure how to handle it.”

  Rudy waited.

  “How much do you know about the case I’m working on?” Mike questioned.

  “Not much. I heard a rumor about something left behind on each of the bodies but nothing specific.”

  “Well, so far, two out of the three bodies have had note cards on them with some book passages written on them. One was from Shakespeare and the other Edgar Allen Poe. I don’t know if the third body is related yet but I have a feeling it is.”

  “So what’s the problem?” Rudy asked.

  “Well, I’ve been consulting someone from the outside to help me with the notes. An English professor from one of the community colleges. A woman.”

  Rudy raised his chin but didn’t say anything.

  “Her name is Suzanne Kelly. Doctor Suzanne Kelly. She’s been very helpful so far. Last night someone
attacked her in her office on campus right after I talked to her. Fortunately I was still around and was able to help her. In fact, she ran right into my arms.” He paused remembering the look on her face. “I wasn’t able to catch the guy. She ended up in the hospital and I took her home this morning.”

  “Why did you take her home?”

  “She didn’t have anyone else to help her.”

  “So she called you to take her home?”

  “Well, she didn’t actually call me. I was there when they released her. The doctor asked and I told him I would take care of her…I mean, take her home.”

  “You were at the hospital?”

  “Well, yeah, I told her I would be when they took her last night.”

  “Of course you did.” Rudy smiled and sat back in his chair.

  “Look, she was just attacked. She ran into my arms, hysterical, what was I supposed to say? She was always so under control, so together and now she was weak and vulnerable. She had this look on her face…I didn't…I couldn’t just let her be taken away without some reassurances. I hadn’t caught the guy so there’s no telling if he was going to try again. It was obvious that’s what she was thinking. I failed her and I wanted to try and give her some peace of mind.”

  “Failed her?” Rudy leaned forward. “How did you fail and more importantly how did you fail her?”

  Mike looked over at him.

  “Ah,” Rudy said, sitting back again. “I get it.”

  Mike looked away.

  “You’re never going to let it go are you?” Rudy questioned. “Five years later and you still can’t get past it.”

  Mike stood, walked over to the Arcadia door and looked out at the massive play set he helped Rudy put together years ago.

  “Saving one isn’t going to bring back the other,” Rudy said quietly.

  Mike didn’t respond.

  “So why this woman? What is it about her that makes you feel so attached to her so quickly?”

  “You should see her,” Mike responded in a whisper. It was a comment made with more specific intent than anything sexual.

 

‹ Prev