by Kay Wyont
“You’re kidding! I thought he was doing okay after his surgery. Last time I checked, he was off the critical list.”
“He was. They think he must have thrown a blood clot or something. He was gone before they knew anything was wrong.”
“That’s a shame. I wonder if the Caldwells know.”
“Probably not. We’ll find out when we get over there.”
“Speaking of that,” Danny grabbed his keys, “I’ll drive.”
At the hospital, they found Rick had been moved from the ICU to a private room. Danny grumbled as they back-tracked through the hospital until they spotted Frank Jenkins posted outside the new room.
“Frank? You live here now?” Randy asked.
“I’m beginning to feel like it, but no. You just have good timing, I guess. It’s my turn in the barrel.”
“Anything change since we were here last?” Danny asked.
Frank glanced toward the closed door. “They charged him. The judge denied bail, and you know the rules...a guard stays as long as he’s in the hospital. Seems a little pointless, since I doubt he’d try to bolt, even if he could. If he somehow managed to hobble out of the room, a two-year old could easily outrun him. He’s still not in good condition, but he’s stable enough to move out of intensive care.”
“Does he know about the fourth death yet?”
“I don’t think so, but I don’t know. I heard about it, but I haven’t told him. I figured I’d leave that to someone else to do.”
“Coward.” Danny didn’t bother to suppress his grin.
“Guilty as charged. You guys going to tell him?”
Randy spoke up. “I think we should. I always ask myself, if the circumstances were reversed, would I want to know? If the answer is yes, I tell them. That’s only fair.”
“You’re probably right. It’s just hard...giving someone bad news like that. I put that in the same category as a death notification.”
“I would say you’ll get used to it, but that’s a lie. Besides, if you do get to the point where it doesn’t bother you, then you don’t care. If that ever happens, the best advice I can give you is find another job, because you won’t be effective in this one. But enough lecturing. If you want to grab a cup of coffee, go ahead. We’re going to talk to Rick.”
“Thanks, Randy. Like I said, you guys have good timing.”
Randy knocked on the door, waiting for a response before opening it. As they’d guessed, Rick’s parents were at his bedside. Rick gave them a wan smile from the bed. Most of the IVs had been removed from his arms, and his black eye was no longer quite so angry looking. Unfortunately, his leg was still suspended in the sling, and his pallor hadn’t improved.
“Mr. and Mrs. Caldwell.” Randy nodded to the parents. Turning to their son, he asked, “How are you feeling, Rick?”
“They charged me with three counts of vehicular homicide, and they’ll probably add charges for the people I injured, too. So, how do you think I’m feeling?” Rick spat the words out, then his face fell. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault I’m in this mess. Physically, I’m feeling better. At least I can use the restroom by myself, even if it is on crutches. But mentally? That’s a whole different story.”
“I’m sorry, son,” Randy said. “I can’t imagine how you must feel. Have you remembered anything else?”
“Nothing I haven’t already told you. Have you found out anything more, Detective Monroe? Was something wrong with the car?” Rick almost glowed with hope.
The detectives exchanged glances, and Mr. Caldwell seemed to pick up on their unease. “It’s not good news, is it?”
“No, sir, it’s not.” Randy forced himself to meet Rick’s eyes. “They finished the forensics and sent us the full report. The car functioned properly. No mechanical failure.”
Rick turned his face toward the window, but Randy could still see tears starting to fall again. Sometimes I hate this job.
He strained to hear the boy’s next question. “Are they sure?”
“They’re sure.”
“Can they hook their forensics machine up to my brain? It obviously malfunctioned, if I did something like that. All those people I hurt must hate me! I can’t fathom what the families of the three I killed are going through.”
Randy cleared his throat. “I have more bad news, Rick. The DA will probably be amending your charges.”
“I know. They warned me it might happen. But, I’m not sure it really matters if they add the injured ones, does it? They’ve got me on killing three people, so how much worse could it get? Anyway, they can’t be any harder on me than I am on myself.”
“That wasn’t what I meant. The man who had been in critical condition died today.”
“Oh, no,” Rick whispered. “There’s four now?” He broke down sobbing. “I can’t take much more of this.”
“I’m really sorry, Rick, but we figured you’d want to know.” Randy watched as Rick’s mother got up to comfort her son. “We’ll leave you alone. Again, if you can think of anything, please call one of us.”
“We will.” Tears brimmed in Mr. Caldwell’s eyes as he patted his son’s leg. “I’ll be right back, Ricky.” He followed the detectives into the hallway and closed the door behind him. “May I have a minute?”
“Of course, Mr. Caldwell,” Randy said.
“First of all, thank you for the advice. I hired an attorney. Justin Graves. I think you know him, Detective Monroe.”
“Yes, I do, sir, and you made a good choice. He’s been around for a while, and he has a good reputation. He’ll do what’s right for Rick.”
“Justin speaks very highly of you, too. He says I can trust you. Can I?”
“I believe you can. As I told you before, we’re not out to burn your son, we’re just looking for the truth, wherever that takes us.”
“I need you to know something. You don’t know me or my son, but let me assure you, Ricky’s not the kind of person to intentionally hurt anybody. This just isn’t like him. As parents, we lucked out...the worst problem we ever had with him was his tendency to pig out on potato chips or candy bars. Any parent would be proud to have a son like him.”
“It doesn’t look like it hurt him any,” Danny said. “He’s in good shape. Well, except for the bandages and sling.”
Randy chuckled and was glad to see Mr. Caldwell smile. Good job, Danny. You’re the goofiest person I know, but you always manage to get a smile out of someone who needs it.
“He is now, although he never was obese. He went to a clinic and they helped him lose the weight, but that’s neither here nor there. I’ve always been proud of him, overweight or not, but I was concerned about his health. Probably an overreaction, but I’ve read you can be predisposed to diabetes because of your genes. My mother died of complications from diabetes, and I didn’t want him to end up like her, so I pushed him to get a handle on his eating before it got totally out of control.
“He’s a good kid, detective, and he’s never been in any trouble before. He made the honor roll in high school and college. Neither his mother nor I can figure out why he’d do something like this, and he seems as lost as we are. He’s confused and scared. I honestly think he’s more disturbed about killing those people than he is of going to jail. We need your help. There must be a logical explanation for what happened. We were hoping the car malfunctioned, but you’ve ruled that out. I don’t know of anything else that makes sense. You’re the expert, not me, and I don’t even know where to begin looking. Please, help us!”
“We’ll do everything we can to get to the truth, sir. I’m just not sure what we can check, other than what we already have,” Randy replied. Caldwell’s shoulders drooped. “That doesn’t mean we’re giving up, so don’t misinterpret my statement. But it’s not looking good.”
“I see. Do what you can, detective. Thank you.” Looking dejected, he went back to his son.
“I feel sorry for them.” Frank had returned. “I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I guess that
makes me a bad cop, huh?”
“Well, if you are, then we probably are too, Frank,” Randy admitted. “I’ve got a son about Rick’s age. I just can’t imagine how hard this is on the parents. Not to mention the kid.”
“He said the car wasn’t the culprit?”
“Yep. No malfunction.”
“I was afraid of that.” Dejected, Frank shook his head and stared at the floor. “You know, sitting outside these rooms as much as I have lately, I’ve heard a lot of the stuff being said when the door is open. The voices in a hospital really seem to carry.”
“Have you heard anything useful? Are they holding something back?” Danny asked.
“I wish. All they talk about is why it happened, and nobody asks that question as much as the kid. This is tearing him up. I know he did it, I get that. But if I wasn’t positive it was him, I’d say we have the wrong suspect. The whole thing doesn’t track.”
“Why not?” Randy searched Frank’s face, hoping he had the answer.
“Well, if he wanted to kill those people, then why is he so broken up about it? I’m fairly new at this, but you don’t normally see that much regret, do you?”
Nope, he’s clueless, too. “No. Not in my experience, anyway. People usually know why they killed someone. Spouse was cheating, they lost their temper, accident, or a myriad of other reasons. Money comes to mind.”
“Or being called by God, like our last killer,” Danny said. “Don’t forget that one.”
“See? None of those fit Rick. He doesn’t know why he did it, and he couldn’t be any sorrier if he tried. Like I said, it doesn’t track.” Frank’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“Maybe not, but the facts look pretty clear-cut, and so far, I don’t see any other logical explanation. Anybody can snap, and we can’t rule out that’s what happened in this case. I’m not up on what they look like, but it almost sounds like a psychotic break of some sort.” A sudden thought occurred to Randy and his stomach lurched. What had Rick meant when he said he couldn’t take much more of this? “Do you think he’s suicidal?”
Frank considered Randy’s question. “I’m no psychiatrist, but no, I don’t think he is. I think he’s just confused. Besides, one of his parents is always in there with him. He’d have a hard time killing himself.”
“Always?”
“Yep. Sometimes both, like now, but they do take turns. At least one of them is always here.”
“That must be hard. Don’t they have jobs?”
“A few days ago, I heard Rick tell his dad to go to work and not spend all his time at the hospital. His dad said that’s why he had employees, and they were keeping things going. I was curious, so I did some checking. His dad owns a couple of computer tech shops here in town. Repair, software, sales, stuff like that.”
“Curious, huh?” Randy suppressed a grin at the young officer. Bet you never thought it would be this easy to get attached to a suspect, did you, kid?
“Yeah. Does that seem weird? I wanted to know what kind of a background the kid has.”
“Maybe you’re training for detective work down the line. Did you find anything else out, junior detective?” Randy didn’t bother hiding his smile this time. Rick was about five minutes younger than Frank. I’ve probably been married longer than they’ve been alive.
“Well, his mom doesn’t work, and they’ve got a big ol’ house not too far from Fredericksburg Road. On the other side of the freeway from Wonderland Mall.”
“Those are some nice houses over there, and they’re not cheap,” Danny said. “Mary and I like to drive around there at Christmastime and look at the lights. I just hope we don’t have another affluenza defense on our hands.”
“I don’t think they’d even try. It wouldn’t work anyhow, because Rick freely admits he did wrong.” Randy quickly dismissed Danny’s thoughts.
“I remember that case,” Frank said. “That was the kid with the DUI who killed some people and got off virtually scot-free. I think he’s in jail now, though, because he skipped the country with his mom. They caught them down in Mexico. Is he still in there?”
Randy shrugged. “I don’t know, but he was supposed to be locked up until he turned nineteen.”
“Well, Rick’s not like that kid,” Danny said. “I never got the impression he felt any remorse at all. You certainly can’t say that about Rick.”
“No, you can’t. Rick’s broken up.” Randy looked at Frank. “Keep an eye on him and tell the other guards to do the same thing. If anyone thinks he might harm himself, we’ll put him under a suicide watch.”
“Will do,” Frank said, sitting down in his chair. “Thanks for the break.”
Randy couldn’t resist. “Quick question. I noticed you called Rick and the affluenza guy ‘kid’. You sound like their grandpa. Strange language for someone that’s their age.”
“Uh...I’m twenty-seven. I just look young for my age.” Frank looked at the floor.
“Really? I thought you were younger, too. Maybe you should do what I did for a few years. Go undercover at schools. You’ll fit right in. It’s actually kind of fun.” Danny leaned in close to Frank and said in a stage whisper, “Randy never did that. Unlike us, he’s always looked like an old man.”
A chuckle escaped, and Frank quickly clapped his hand over his mouth.
Randy popped Danny on top of his head. “We’ll see you again, Frank, if you’re still here.”
“I probably will be.”
Randy glanced back as they walked down the hall. Why, Frank? You’re involved, aren’t you? Randy couldn’t help but smile. Well, you won’t be the first. Or the last.
“What are you smiling about?”
“Nothing. Just a random thought.”
Danny looked at his partner and glanced back at Rick. “You think he’s volunteering to be here, don’t you?”
“Yep. Maybe you are brilliant after all.”
“Don’t forget cute.”
“Brilliant and cute? More like obnoxious and overbearing. Actually, I have a plethora of other descriptions.” Randy snickered and elbowed a scowling Danny.
FOUR
“What now?” Danny asked as he started the car. “Seems to me like we’re out of options, since the car malfunctioning thing didn’t pan out. He admitted he did it, he’s been charged, and now he needs to get well enough to be discharged, so he can go to court and get sentenced. Our part’s over. It’s not like we have a case to solve, because we know who did it. Maybe it’s time for us to move on. Other cases have come in while we’ve been spinning our wheels on this one.”
“Yes, we know he did it, but why? That’s the big question, Danny. What’s the motive? He doesn’t strike me as the type who’d do something like this. His rap sheet has one whole speeding ticket. How do you go from having a clean record to mowing down a crowd of people? And, yes, before you say it, I know as well as you do that people with clean records can still be murderers. Our serial killer case more than proved that. But this seems different. Did he just get up one day, eat breakfast, drink coffee, read the paper, check the weather, and decide it’s a perfect day to go kill somebody? It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“They should do a brain scan like Rick suggested,” Danny said. “Forensics for his head, like the car. Maybe he has a brain tumor, and it’s pressing on something in his head that makes him do strange stuff.”
“Really? That’s the best you can come up with?”
“I saw it on a TV show.”
Randy lifted an eyebrow. “Okay, well, let’s nix that one.”
“What? You know what they say. Art mirrors life or something like that.”
“Yes, but by now they’ve run every test in the book on him, especially after a crash that traumatic. Someone would have mentioned if he had a brain tumor. What’s your next bright idea?”
“I would say we should ask Carla Williams, but we both know what you’ll say to that, so I got nothing.”
“Fictional characters can’t help us.”
/>
“See? That’s why I didn’t say it.”
“Good grief.”
“Do you think they brought in a shrink?”
“Probably not. That won’t happen until he goes to court. Unless Rick’s whacked out now and the doctor wants one. But he’s not, so they won’t. That’ll have to wait until it becomes a pretrial motion.”
“Just a thought.”
“Moving on...we’ve talked to most of Rick’s friends, and nobody has a bad word to say about him. We’ve only got three people left to talk to.”
Danny shook his head. “Not that it’ll do any good. I mean, they’ve got enough evidence to convict him. There’s no shortage of witnesses, and he admitted he did it. It’s out of our hands at this point in the game, isn’t it?”
“One question still bugs me. Why did he do it?”
“You keep asking that like you expect me to come up with the answer, but it’s not our job to explain it all. Rick’s probably going to plead guilty and there won’t be a trial. Heck, even if there is, I could write the DA’s opening statement for him. They always tell a jury that the prosecution doesn’t have to explain why something happened. They just have to prove the defendant’s guilt. Even without the confession, they have enough witnesses to convict. The jury won’t need the why. They may wonder, but that won’t stop a guilty verdict.”
Randy stared out the window at the passing scenery. “The explanation isn’t for the jury, it’s for me. It would be different if he was one of those home-grown terrorists driving vehicles into crowds of people, but he’s not. You don’t see a bit of guilt from them. They’re proud of what they’ve done, but Rick’s pretty torn up over the whole thing. It makes no sense.”
“It doesn’t to me, either, but what do we do about it? Since you’re pushing so hard, you must have a plan in mind.”
“Let’s talk to the last three of his friends. Maybe one of them will tell us Rick’s a closet mass murderer who’s talked about wanting to find out what it’s like to kill people or something along those lines. At least that explanation would make sense.”
