“Oooh, steak for lunch and drinks after work; I am officially in heaven,” Anita batted her eyes and looked dreamily at Kayla. “Let me just get my bag.”
Kayla and Anita settled into a booth towards the back of the Raven’s Nest. This was actually one of their favorite places. The atmosphere was great, the waitresses were even greater and the food was awesome. The walls were covered in dark wood paneling and the 20 foot long bar top was covered in granite as were all the tables. The bar chairs were covered in deep burnished gold leather cushions. Behind the bar, set high into the wall near the ceiling were three 45” flat screen tv’s; 9 more were strategically placed around the bar. There were individual 4’ long tables each with 7 brown and tan leather covered stools scattered around the center of the floor. The booths had semi-circular rich red leather seats with small, round tables. Hardwood covered the floors while chandeliers provided lighting that cast a soft diffuse glow.
While they waited for one of the waitresses to come over, Anita asked the question she had been reluctant to ask while they were at work. “Do you still spend as much time as you used to thinking about how your father died?” Kayla looked up from the menu. She looked toward the bar, then back at Anita before answering. “More,” she said. “I know it’s not healthy, but I can’t seem to help it. I honestly don’t know what haunts me more, the way he died or the fact that he’s just gone.”
At that moment, Kayla looked like nothing less than a little lost girl. Her eyes got wide and took on that look of surprise that little kids often get when they really don’t understand something. “I just don’t know who would do something like that. My dad was a good man; never hurt a fly. It was almost as if whoever did it wanted him to suffer. It just seemed so personal. It makes no sense.”
Anita nodded. “When my brother was killed, I felt the same way. A gunshot or a stab wound would’ve been relatively quick and somewhat impersonal. But then again, I later found out that my brother was into some things he shouldn’t have been, unlike your father. No matter how it happens or who it’s done to, I’m not sure that murder ever makes sense.”
The waitress finally came over and they placed their order.
“We’ll take a platter of Buffalo wings, mozzarella sticks, loaded potato skins, a pitcher of Sangria and a couple of vodka shots,” Kayla told her. Anita took another look at the menu and asked if maybe they should have some salad. Kayla laughed lightly and told her they had salad at lunch. “Point taken,” she said. Even the waitress had to laugh. “I wish I was hanging with you guys,” she said playfully. Anita told her if her shift finished and they were still there to feel free to join them. “The more the merrier,” she told the waitress with a goofy grin on her face.
Smiling pleasantly, the waitress told them, “I’ll keep that in mind. Let me go put your order in and I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
“Yes, please hurry. My friend here has expressed a dire need to toss back a few, like yesterday,” Anita told the waitress in the most serious voice she could muster.
“Thanks for making me sound like an alcoholic,” Kayla mock scolded her.
“My pleasure,” Anita shot back.
“I can’t stand you,” Kayla told her trying to look disgusted.
“I know,” said Anita smugly.
Kayla rolled her eyes and looked at one of the tv screens. “So what do you think Anita? Do you think it was personal or was my dad just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”
The question caught Anita off guard. Before now, Kayla had never asked her what she thought had happened and she had never volunteered any of her thoughts. Anita shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I thought we came here to try and relax.”
“Well, yeah. But I honestly want to know what you think. I’ve never asked you before. I know you have some type of opinion even if you’ve never expressed it.” Kayla’s stare was somber.
“Are you sure you really want to know what I think?
“Yes. Absolutely.”
Anita silently prayed that what she was about to say would not damage their friendship. She hoped Kayla would be fully open-minded and listen without going off. She looked at the anticipation in her friend’s face.
“You know how he was supposed to be going to the shop but there was nothing to indicate he had ever gone there? Well, what if he never had any intention of going to the store and that story was just a cover? What if he went exactly where he intended to go and something just went south when he got there?”
Kayla mulled that over for a minute. “But how did his car end up at the river by the warehouse?”
Anita loved Kayla but sometimes that girl was just slow. “Maybe that’s where he intended to go.”
“Oh, that doesn’t make sense. That warehouse hasn’t been operational in years. It’s been vacant ever since they shut down,” contended Kayla.
“Oh but it does. He told Mama Ann he was going to the store. The river and the warehouse are not that far from the store. If things, whatever they were, had gone right, he could have gone to the warehouse and been back home within a reasonable time frame without drawing suspicion. Only things didn’t go right. Didn’t the police say that there was no evidence that no one other than him had driven the car?
“Well, yeah.” Kayla answered as a knot began to form in her stomach.
“Sooo, maybe he went to meet someone at the warehouse for whatever reason and something went wrong. Wrong enough for him to end up dead. I’m sorry Kayla but there is no way you or anyone else is going to get me to believe that your father was accosted even before he got to the store, was forced to drive his car to the warehouse or forced into someone else’s car while some mysterious person drove his car to the warehouse for some random, indiscriminate reason and then killed.”
Anita carefully searched her friends’ face for some acknowledgement or denial. Her expression was blank. Anita continued, “It doesn’t add up. There was not one piece of unidentified evidence from the car. Every bit of evidence was connected to your father, your mother or you. There wasn’t a hair, a fingernail, nothing found to suggest that anyone else was ever in that car. And then the way he was found.” Anita looked down at the table.
Kayla didn’t want to remember but she couldn’t help it. She had gone with her mother to the Medical Examiner’s office to identify the body. They were shown a photograph by an Identification staff member. The person in the photo was almost unrecognizable. In all actuality, if it hadn’t been for the clothes and the distinctive chain around the neck of the deceased, identification might have been impossible. But there was no denying it; the body was that of her father’s.
Her mother’s knees buckled at the realization that her husband was dead. Staff members rushed to assist. Her mother couldn’t seem to catch her breath and began to complain of chest pains. Afraid she was having a heart attack, an ambulance was called.
At the hospital, the doctors determined that her mother was suffering from arrhythmia brought on by the stress of her husband’s death and seeing the condition of his body. Not only was her heartbeat irregular but it was much faster than was considered normal. Her oxygen levels had dropped also. At her age, the combination could well be fatal so they admitted her for observation and treatment. It was all too much for Kayla. With her father gone and her mother possibly knocking on death’s door, she broke down. By the time she pulled herself together, they had given her mother a sedative to calm her and help her sleep. The nurse told her she would probably sleep through the night. Kayla thanked her and asked if she could stay the night. After the nurse told her she could, Kayla thanked her again then told her she would be back.
Kayla then went to the precinct and asked for the detective in charge of her father’s case. His name was Detective Glenn Woods. He escorted her into his office and asked her how her mother was. When Kayla told him that her mother had been admitted to the hospital, his brow furrowed with concern. He asked her if she wanted or needed anything. Kayla told him she just wan
ted the truth about what had happened and how they found him. Detective Woods hesitated. He was reluctant to reveal the gory details surrounding their discovery of Gary Richard’s body. He tried to convince Kayla that this might not be the best time to have this discussion.
Kayla made it clear that she had no intention of leaving without answers. “We were good enough to identify the body at the Medical Examiner’s Office, so we should be good enough to hear the details of exactly how he was found,” her tone was firm but her voice was slightly shaky.
Detective Woods asked if she was absolutely sure and she of course said yes. After listening for a minute or two, she was almost sorry she had asked. According to Detective Woods, an unidentified car had been found at the warehouse. One of the officers ran the plates while the other began to search the premises. It was during this search that they found her father’s body. It appeared that he had been brutally beaten to the point where a portion of his head had been crushed. It appeared that some type of caustic liquid had been poured on different parts of his body. It was here that Kayla interrupted.
“What do you mean caustic?”
“Acid, Kayla, acid.”
Kayla began to sweat as her pallor turned a sickly green. Detective Woods left his office for a moment and returned with a bottle of water which he handed to Kayla. With slightly shaking hands, she took the bottle but was unable to open it. She looked helplessly at Detective Woods who took the bottle and opened it for her before handing it back. After taking a long mouthful, Kayla told him to go ahead.
“Listen, there will be plenty of time for details later,” Detective Woods began but never got a chance to finish.
“I don’t care about later, I care about now. I want to know now,” she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I need to now,” her voice was pleading.
Detective Woods was about 100% sure that he should put his foot down and refuse but something in her eyes stopped him. He could see that she was looking for answers. She was hoping that somewhere in the particulars of her father’s death, the why of it would be uncovered. In spite of this sudden insight, he was still extremely hesitant to divulge the rest of the details. Not sure how this was going to play out, he continued.
Then he was castrated. His testicles were shoved into his mouth and the same caustic substance was poured into his mouth before his killers duct taped his mouth shut. His hands were tied together with duct tape and he was hung upside-down from an old crane outside of the warehouse. The Medical Examiner believed that massive internal bleeding coupled with severe blood loss was the actual cause of death. Until a full autopsy was performed he couldn’t be 100% sure and was only speculating.
Kayla’s stomach clenched tightly then rolled then clenched again. She jumped up and ran for the bathroom, barely making it to the stall before vomiting profusely. A female officer came in to check on her. She helped Kayla clean herself up and walked her back to Detective Wood’s office. Once there, he assured her that they would do their very best to find the person or persons responsible. He also told her that in light of the day’s events, he would hold off on asking any questions. He did ask her if she could come back the next day, or the day after at the latest. The sooner he could get some information, the sooner they could really get started looking for her dad’s killer. As of right then, they really had nothing. She nodded, still feeling sick to her stomach and head home to clean herself up. It wouldn’t do for her mother to wake up and see her like this. The memory faded to black and Kayla came back to herself.
The waitress brought their drinks and Kayla downed her vodka shot without batting an eye and asked for another. The waitress told her she’d be right back. Anita reached for her friend’s hand. As always, her eyes were warm and caring. Her face etched with concern.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Kayla said as she rubbed her eyes and forehead. “I’m okay.”
“No you’re not,” Anita countered.
“No, I’m not,” Kayla admitted as she reached for the glass of Sangria the waitress had poured.
Anita knew the drill. Kayla would get wasted in a temporary attempt to drown her sorrow and quash those unwanted memories. Anita would dutifully drive her home, get her into bed and sit by her bedside until she was sure that Kayla wasn’t going to throw up all over herself. Anita would then grab the extra blanket and pillow out of the closet and curl up in the easy chair on the other side of the room as she kept watch over her friend.
Morning would arrive and Kayla would wake up feeling absolutely, horribly hungover with no memory of how she had gotten that way. She would curse herself for getting so drunk then stagger to the bathroom for a hot shower. She’d come out asking for a cup of coffee, which Anita would have already gotten. She would take a couple of ibuprofen, a swig of coffee and get dressed. By the time she was dressed, you would never know that anything out of the way had happened.
Anita kept her drinking to a minimum since she knew she would be the one driving. Kayla, on the other hand, drank like prohibition was being brought back.
When the evening was over, Anita helped Kayla to the car. Kayla passed out almost as soon as she was placed in the car, so Anita drove to Kayla’s house in silence.
Arriving at the house, Anita realized her dilemma. At other times, Kayla would be drunk, but conscious and manageable; this time she was literally out cold. There was no way she was going to be able to get her inside by herself so she was forced to recruit Mama Ann’s help. Mama Ann passed no judgements though she was deeply concerned about her daughter. It was a struggle, but she and Anita were able to get Kayla into the house. Once in the house, they quickly recognized that even attempting to navigate the stairs was out of the question, so they placed her on the couch instead. Anita apologized profusely while thanking Mama Ann for her help. Mama Ann brushed her apologies off, reached over and gave her a great big hug and thanked her for being such a good friend to her daughter.
Anita smiled wearily and went upstairs to get the pillows and blankets. After tucking Kayla in, she suddenly felt mentally, emotionally and physically drained. She didn’t even have the energy to sit up and watch over Kayla so she just curled up on the other couch and went to sleep.
Chapter 5
The next day Anita woke to find Kayla looking at her through extremely bleary eyes.
“What happened last night and why am I on the couch?” she asked. Anita wanted to laugh. Kayla’s hair was messier than she had ever seen it and her clothes were totally disheveled. She looked like she had spent the night in an alley rather than the couch in her own living room.
“You, my dear, got totally and completely laced.”
“What day is it? Do we have to work today?” Kayla asked, her words still slightly slurred.
“Fortunately for you, it’s Saturday. This is one time that a shower, a cup of coffee and some ibuprofen just is not going to fix what you did last night.”
“Good lord, how much did I drink?”
“Enough for you, me, the waitress who served us and probably most everyone else at the bar.”
“And you let me?”
“You’re kidding right? Girl, I tried to stop you but you were too far gone to be fixed. You even cussed me out a couple of times,” Anita informed her.
Kayla looked horrified. “I am so sorry Anita. You know I would never come at you like that under normal circumstances. I honestly don’t remember anything.”
“Don’t sweat it. I understand completely. You just really needed to blow off some steam. Although, to be honest, in all the time I’ve known you, I have never seen you like that before. Drunk yes, completely tanked no,” Anita calmly replied, a hint of a smile on her face.
A wave of embarrassment and shame crept over Kayla. She couldn’t believe that she had allowed herself to get like that.
Then she thought of something. “How did you even get me here?” she asked Anita.
Anita was looking toward the kitchen and with a sideways glance told her, “Well, getting y
ou to the car wasn’t too bad. At least then you were still conscious, but that didn’t last long. You passed out in the car.”
“Did I wake up when we got here?”
“Not exactly. You were completely out of it. I had to get Mama Ann to help me.”
Kayla groaned. “Great, just great. My best friend and mother had to carry me into the house like I was a drunken slob.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Anita tried to reassure her.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. My grief-stricken mother who has been suffering way more than I have, had to see me totally smashed and incapable of independent function. Then as if that weren’t insult enough, she had to help lug my disgusting behind into the house and place me on the sofa so I could sleep it off,” Kayla countered. “If that’s not bad, then please, oh please tell me what is.”
Kayla stared at Anita, waiting for an answer.
“Look, if you want to feel guilty I can’t stop you, if you want to beat yourself up about it, well I can’t stop that either but let’s be clear about something here Kayla. You were reliving probably the single worst moment of your life in what, knowing you, was the most graphic and descriptive detail known to man. As far as I’m concerned, in a case like that, there is no right or wrong let alone any need for guilt. And if you think your mother is looking at you cross-eyed because of it, you’re wrong.” Anita looked at her sternly. “Your mother loves you and knows you’re suffering. Knowing her, she would probably give anything to make your pain go away. It’s not like she was standing there judging you.”
“She’s right you know.” Kayla’s mother said softly from the doorway.
“Mom. How long have you been standing there?” Kayla asked.
“Long enough to know you’re feeling guilty; long enough to know that you think that your pain is somehow secondary to mine. Well, it’s not. He may have been my husband, but he was still your father. There is no 1st or 2nd place in this. You lost the same person I did. I would never demean your grief by trying to dictate how you express it. So you got drunk. Who cares? Who hasn’t? You’re my daughter and I love you. The only thing I care about is that you don’t do it so often that it overtakes you.”
MY FATHER'S KILLER: Kayla's Story Page 3
