by J. T. Lewis
“What?” Abby asked defensively.
“You just don’t usually call me that kid… that’s all.” I poured the water into the coffee maker, flopping down the lid to start the process going.
Crossing the kitchen, Abby wrapped her arms around my neck, giving me a kiss on the cheek.
“Never imagine that I don’t think of you as my father. It’s the neatest thing I’ve got going!”
Kissing her cheek in reply, I answered “Ditto!”
Confirming that the water was running though the filter, I turned back to my daughter.
“How was your day?” I asked. She had spent the day on her county job, having been called in early that morning.
“Eh,” she answered dejectedly, “Just a robbery. But it was a big house, and a lot of stuff was taken, a lot of damage too. Between taking the pictures and processing them, that’s all I got done all day!”
Glancing at the clock, I hadn’t realized that it had gotten so late. Nearly dark outside, I shook my head as I wondered what I had done with my day.
Since it was Sunday, I had gone to Betty’s grave to visit. The weather was beautiful, and I ended up spending a couple of hours there. On the way home, I grabbed a sandwich at Lenny’s before returning to the house. I then did some light reading out on the garden swing before succumbing to a nap in my recliner.
Truth be known, I had just opened my eyes a few minutes before and had decided to make the batch of coffee. Although I now felt rested, I was peeved at myself for wasting away a perfectly good day.
“Want something to eat?” I asked Abby as I opened the fridge, hoping to discover something that sounded good.
“Maybe later,” Abby replied, “I think I’ll go for a run first. I’ve just been standing around all day, and I need to get rid of this nervous energy!”
“Better take a flashlight,” I suddenly blurted out, feeling a funny tinge in my stomach. “It’s getting dark out.”
Laughing at me, she came over and gave me another hug.
“I’ll be fine; you know they have this new invention called street lights? It’s all the rage I hear!”
Although I could at times be overprotective, Abby and I had been through plenty of scrapes together. Proving her mettle seemed to be almost a hobby with her as she time and again allayed any fears I had for her. Still, something just didn’t feel right about her excursion tonight.
Taking a deep breath, I hid my concerns from her as she went to change clothes for her run.
No one teaches you how to be a father, and I knew that I still had a lot to learn. That being said, being overly cautious when it concerned her would probably always be my lot in life.
***
The slight breeze Abby felt from the forward movement felt exhilarating on her sweaty face. On the last leg of her four mile trek, she was mentally preparing herself for the final sprint ahead.
Rounding the corner and getting ready to pour on the steam, she suddenly caught a movement out of her peripheral vision to the right. Reacting instinctively she stopped and pivoted, her right forearm already up in a blocking maneuver.
As she turned, she spied a thin woman with short dark hair quickly approaching her. Her assailant’s right hand was already in motion as she attempted to jab something into Abby’s back.
Abby’s forearm was already in position as she blocked the attack in mid-motion. Abby had but a split second to observe the surprised face of her attacker. She could tell little in the low light, except that the woman was angry.
Continuing the rotation of her body, Abby reached around and dug her left thumb into the back of the hand holding the weapon while also wrapping her fingers around it. Sliding her right arm down in the same motion, she added the right hand to the task, folding the assailant’s hand into the wrist. Rotating the captured hand quickly counterclockwise away from the body, she heard a clatter of plastic on the sidewalk as the weapon was released from the attacker’s hand.
Twisting farther, the assailant screamed out in pain as her shoulder dislocated with a pop.
Except it was a man’s voice that did the screaming!
Overcoming her surprise, Abby swung her right leg forward and behind the man’s legs, quickly sweeping back and catching the back of his right ankle with hers. Following through with the sweep as she continued her body’s forward momentum, the man lost his balance and fell on his back with a loud oomph!
The man was not moving, so Abby rested her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. The effects of the long run and the sudden rush of adrenalin during the fight had left her severely winded, sucking air through her mouth at a quick pace. She knew that she needed to calm her breathing, or she would pass out from hypoxia. Concentrating for a few moments, she was slowing her breaths when she saw the clear plastic shank lying on the sidewalk.
Studying it from her bent over position, she now understood why she couldn’t make out the weapon in the dark. She had started to bend over to retrieve it when she heard a noise. Looking up quickly, she saw the fake woman was sitting up, his left hand digging inside of his jacket awkwardly.
Abby had had enough, and had just decided to kick the man to put him out of her misery when a gun suddenly appeared in the man’s hand. Instantly changing course, Abby dove through some hedges beside the sidewalk as a shot rang out behind her.
Pain shot through Abby’s body as she realized that she had dove headfirst into a row of Barberry hedge, with thousands of thorns scratching her face and arms as she frantically worked to get through the intertwined branches.
Hearing a noise in the yard, she stopped moving and listened quietly to her surroundings. Seeing the shadow of a pair of feet working their way towards her position, she realized that the noise she had heard must have been her attacker jumping over the gate to the yard.
Moving slowly, Abby reached up behind her head and extracted the Kanzashi sticks from her hair. Immediately, most of her brown hair cascaded silently down to her shoulders, some of it catching on the hedge’s thorns. Taking the bone hair-sticks one in each hand, she quietly positioned them pointed end out, letting the rounded end rest against her palms. Closing her hands around them, she let the sticks extend between her second and third fingers. With both fists positioned palm up tensely beside her chest, she nervously waited as the shadowed feet slowly approached her position.
As the man finally came abreast of her position, she shot her right hand out, rotating it from palm up to palm down as it flew toward its target. Easily piercing through the material of her attacker’s pants, the pointed bone continued on into the man’s calf.
Reacting to the attack immediately, he started screaming for all he was worth. Falling to his knees in front of Abby, she jabbed with the other hand, the left Kanzashi finding its mark in the man’s eye.
The gun dropped to the ground as the earlier screams of pain were eclipsed by the loud guttural sounds now escaping the man’s mouth. Having fallen on his back with the attack, the assailant was now writhing on the ground, both hands pawing at his eye as he unsuccessfully tried to stem the flow of blood escaping from his wound.
The front light of the nearby house popped on at that instant, accompanied by the loud barking of a dog. Abby could make out the shadow of a dog inside the window of the front door trying desperately to escape the confines of the house as the owner fiddled with the lock.
Hearing the dog more than seeing the light, Abby’s attacker gathered himself up off the ground and staggered slowly toward the gate. As the door to the house opened, a large German Shepherd broke away, racing toward the gate while barking angrily.
Another howl joined the fray as the dog apparently found his mark before the attacker made his way over the gate.
“Who’s out there?” The owner of the house yelled toward the gate.
Because of the attack, Abby had lost track of where she was in the dark. Now recognizing the voice of the owner, Abby decided to make herself known.
“Bob! Over here…
it’s Abby.”
Seeing Bob Jenkins look her way, her vision was suddenly blocked by the mass of the German Shepherd. Barking forcefully at her, she could feel the hot breath of the dog’s roar bounce off her too-close face.
“Lance! Nein!” Abby heard suddenly as the dog’s barking instantly stopped.
“Komm!”
The dog turned around immediately and headed back toward the house. Letting the dog in the door, the man uttered “Bleib!” before closing the door and heading to the hedge.
“Abby? Is that you?” Bob Jenkins asked at the hedge, “What the hell are you doing in my hedge?”
“It’s a long story Bob…can you give a girl a hand?”
Chapter 40
September 20, 1999
“Where is she?” I yelled up at Bob as I scaled the steps of his porch two at a time. Sirens were evident in the background now as Bob laid his hand on my shoulder.
“She’s really scratched up Gabe, but she’s ok.”
Patting my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me before turning to open the door, he added with a grin, “Sounds like she really gave that guy an ass-kicking though!”
Entering the house, Bob pointed me toward the kitchen in the back of the house. Making my way there, I was shocked at the sight before me. Abby was sitting at the table, covered in blood, her hair full of twigs. Every exposed piece of skin had been scratched, and the combination of all of the small trickles of blood combining gave her the look of someone extremely injured.
Bob’s wife Clair was walking toward the table with a pan and a towel to clean her up, but I beat her there by a step as I kneeled and wrapped her in my arms.
“I’m fine Gabe, but man do these little cuts itch! There must be some kind of poison it those little sticky suckers.”
Looking at Clair questioningly, she answered my look with, “Burberry shrubs, they really are bad!”
Looking back at my daughter, I was met by a grin.
“I guess I shoulda listened to your gut instinct after all!”
As Clair started cleaning Abby up, I sat down next to her and asked what had happened. Over the next few minutes, she described in detail what had transpired on her run, joined by Bob at the point where he had gotten involved. The fact that it was a man dressed as a woman I let pass for the moment, although that detail started churning in the back of my mind.
“It’s probably a good thing I landed in Bob’s hedges, I’m thinking,” Abby added at the end of her story.
Bob Jenkins was a sheriff’s deputy, their K9 officer to be exact. Lance, his highly trained German Shepherd seemed to have been a key factor in scaring away Abby’s attacker.
“Has anyone found the man yet?” I asked Bob, who shook his head sadly.
“It all happened so fast Gabe; and I didn’t know how bad Abby had been hurt. Took us a few minutes to get her out of the shrub as it was, I had to get my pruners and cut her out! Lance and I will try to tail him as soon as the scene is secured.”
Cops were starting to arrive at the house by then, and Bob left to direct them with Lance following him out the door.
“He dropped both his shank and his gun though!” Abby exclaimed excitedly. “No fingerprints though, he was wearing gloves.”
“Too bad,” I said thoughtfully, “would have been nice to have a way of identifying him.”
“Oh, we still have a way to do that!”
Abby was excited as she reached across the table and pulled a plastic bag toward her before picking it up and showing it to me.
Seeing the carved bone sticks she sometimes wore in her hair, I was shocked to see that they were covered in blood.
“At least we may have a way, if his DNA is on file.”
Chapter 41
Sept 21, 1999
“What the hell happened?” Bill was yelling into the phone. “You couldn’t take down a simple girl?”
“There was nothing simple about that girl asshole! She’s had extensive training somewhere!”
Hector had just arrived back at his apartment, and was packing his belongings as fast as he could. He needed to get out of town…fast!
Although he knew there was no way he could be identified by fingerprints or DNA, the nature of his wounds would easily be identifiable from any description given to the police of the attack.
Luckily, he had been able to find Manny Sanchez quickly last night. Finding the drug addicted, unlicensed doctor passed out on his couch; Hector had roused him by shoving the barrel of his spare gun into the man’s teeth.
Coming quickly awake then, the greasy haired man had almost pissed himself. After a few fuzzy moments taken to recognize the man and his needs, Manny had quickly tried to administer to Hector’s wounds as best he could. Starting with the eye, Manny shook his head before cleaning it out with water and applying an antibiotic to the gauze patch he taped over it.
“I can’t do anything with that amigo, the eyeball is destroyed, you will need a specialist for that, but I believe you’ve lost sight in that eye permanently.”
Hector was speechless at the news while Manny moved on to the other injuries. Cleaning the puncture wound and dog bite on Hector’s leg; he then applied sterile dressings to both.
The dislocated shoulder was the final thing needing attention, and Manny was not looking forward to it at all.
“Lie down on the couch Hector,” Manny mumbled, “And give me your gun.”
Hector raised the gun quickly, “I’m not giving this up Manny, do what you gotta do!”
Shrugging, Manny carefully manipulated Hector’s shoulder to the right location. The sharp inhale of breath through gritted teeth told Manny that Hector was now in the right position.
“This is gonna hurt man,” Manny said while looking Hector in the eye, “Don’t go shooting me with that piece when it happens.”
Hector nodded, closing his eye to prepare. Acting quickly, Manny straightened the arm out 90 degree from the body as Hector’s screams suddenly filled the room. The screams died off quickly however as Hector passed out from the pain.
Grabbing the gun, Manny took it over to the kitchen table, pouring himself a splash of whiskey in a plastic cup as he sat down to wait.
“Fucker’s gonna be pissed when he wakes up.”
***
Hector was indeed pissed when he awoke. Rolling off of the couch slowly while gritting his teeth, he found Manny passed out at the kitchen table, the gun lying by his head.
Picking up the weapon, he cocked it and aimed it shakily at the unconscious man’s head. Thinking better of it, Hector set the gun on the table and rummaged through his pocket with his left hand, throwing some bills on the table before retrieving the gun and leaving the ratty apartment.
He had enough people needing retribution without killing off the only man that had been helpful to him this night.
***
“You’re not getting paid now you know,” Bill continued, the lividness in his voice still there.
“Oh, you will pay me,” Hector now said evenly into the receiver, “And I will finish this! I have lost much, and revenge will be mine. You will pay me the money that is owed or I will add you to my list…old friend.”
The last two words dripped out of his mouth like venom.
“I don’t appreciate being threatened Hector!” Bill continued to shout, but some of the bravado had left his voice.
“Deal with it like a man Bill,” Hector spat as he headed to the safe to extract some cash.
“I’ll be gone for a few days anyway, I gotta get this eye looked at somewhere far from here. But upon my return, you can rest assured that your contract will be filled.”
“Ok then,” Bill exhaled, his tension evident over the phone. “But soon, these people can take us both down!”
Hector hung up the phone without further conversation as he pocketed the wad of bills and lifted his suitcase.
Exiting his apartment, he limped slowly to his car. His right arm in a sling and a patch on his eye, he wa
s thankful that the sun hadn’t yet risen, hoping to leave the city unobserved.
Getting the car started, he moved slowly down the street as he made his way toward the Interstate.
“I’ll be back,” he mumbled to himself as he made his way onto the entrance ramp. Starting to feel the familiar stirring in his pants as he accelerated, a smile crossed his lips.
Rolling his window down quickly as the city receded behind him, he screamed at the top of his lungs.
***
At that moment, two bleary-eyed fishermen were just getting out of their truck at McGovern’s lake, situated alongside the interstate. As the driver popped open the camper shell on the back of the pickup, they were startled by the sound of someone screaming up on the interstate.
“What’d he say?” The first man asked as he looked over at his buddy.
“Must a been talkin to you,” the second man said with a grin as he grabbed his poles out of the back, “Called you a motherfucker, said he’d be back!”
Taking their gear in hand, they set off to the water’s edge.
“Who’s wife you been screwing around with?” the second man added as he slapped his buddy’s back while busting out in laughter. “I hope she’s worth it my friend….he sounded really pissed!”
Chapter 42
September 21, 1999
The coolness that had pervaded our relationship for this past year continued as Allen Vanguard sized up Abby and I in his office the next morning. The handshakes were a little less enthusiastic, and the gripping of my shoulder, while still there as part of his greeting, was also a little less feeling.
We had gotten word from one of the deputies last night that Allen would like to meet with us this morning. I was as yet unsure as to what ends this meeting represented, but I had my suspicions.
That the attack on Abby last night was tied into our current investigation was beyond doubt. The plastic shank recovered from the assault exactly matched the descriptions of the murder weapons in most of the overseas assassinations. Whoever was responsible for the murders had put out a hit on Abby, and I had no doubt that I too was on the list, as well as Preacher.
