“Hello, Miss Monet,” Ramon said. “Dr. Washington told me to come and get you and take you the fifth floor. They have a room waiting for you. Miss Monet, I just want to say I’m so sorry about what happened.”
Monet dropped her eyes and nodded her head.
Jean returned to the cubicle. “Ramon, give us a moment before you take Nurse Caldwell upstairs.” She held a dressing gown. “Let me help her put this on, and I’ll call you when she’s ready.”
“Okay. Just holler when you’re ready,” the young man replied, and walked out of the cubicle.
“Can you stand up?” Jean asked Monet.
When Monet stood up, her legs wobbled like Jell-O. She immediately grabbed her head. Marcus caught his wife before she fell back onto the bed.
“Sit on the bed, and I’ll help you get the gown on. Then your husband and I will help you into the chair,” Jean instructed Monet compassionately.
Monet followed Jean’s instruction, and before long, the gown enclosed her body. Marcus picked up his wife, cradled her like she was a baby, and gently deposited her into the wheelchair.
“Are you ready?” Jean questioned. She couldn’t help but notice the unhappy look on her fellow nurse’s face.
“I don’t know . . . I don’t want anyone to see me like this.” Monet lightly touched her face and shivered. “I haven’t seen my face, but I bruise easily, so I know I must look a wreck.”
“Why don’t I get another gown and you can use that to shield your face?” Jean suggested, wringing her hands.
“Thanks, I guess that will have to do,” Monet replied miserably.
The nurse left and returned a few minutes later with a dressing gown and a white bath towel. She held them out to Monet. “Take your pick.” Monet chose the towel.
Jean hesitated. “Um, I think I should warn you that some of the media have converged upon the hospital. Not a lot, but enough to disrupt the flow of business around here a bit. We’ve done our best to keep them at bay. Monet, getting you healed is our number one priority. So Ramon is going to wheel you through a back entrance and up to the fifth floor,” she said.
“Thanks, Jean. I don’t think I’m quite ready to face anyone at this point.” Monet looked down at the floor.
“If you’re ready, I’ll get Ramon and we can get you settled in your room. Dr. Washington wants you to stay overnight for observation,” Jean said.
“I’m not really ready,” Monet gulped, “but now is as good a time as any.” She reached for Marcus’s hand and clutched it tightly.
Jean nodded and went to get Ramon. Then the four of them headed for the freight elevator, up to a private room on the fifth floor. Before long, Monet was in bed and had taken a sedative and painkiller that Dr. Washington had prescribed.
Marcus sat on the bed beside his wife and held her gently in his arms until she fell asleep. It pained him like a toothache to see her beautiful face battered. Monet was light skinned, and he knew it was going to take some time before the bruises completely faded.
Vines of wrath wrapped around his heart. Every time Monet moaned, or her body quivered, he felt so angry that he wanted to kill the man who had harmed his wife. What galled Marcus the most was how the man had the nerve to laugh in his face. Marcus realized that what he was thinking was wrong, but he couldn’t help himself. After all, that was his wife lying in the hospital bed looking like someone had used her face for a punching bag.
Marcus gently pulled his arms from around Monet’s body and laid her back on the bed. He stood up and rubbed his face hurriedly, trying to erase the tracks of tears that he knew were showing. He decided to call Monet’s brothers, and hoped that Wade had called Liz to come to the hospital. He was surprised to see that only a few hours had elapsed because it seemed like a lifetime had gone by since he’d left the police station.
He took once last look at Monet. “Lord, I know you said vengeance is yours. But that philosophy doesn’t sit too well with me. I would be less than a man if I didn’t protect what’s mine. And that lady lying over there on that bed is my everything. Thank you, God, for sparing her life. I know it could have been worse. But if it takes every breath in my body and the rest of the days of my life, I will find the man that did this to Monet and . . .” Marcus ceased speaking; he hadn’t thought beyond that.
When he walked out of the room, his shoulders were set, and he was determined to find out exactly what Smitty and Wade had learned so far. He also made a mental note to stop at the gift shop and have flowers delivered to Monet’s room. He wasn’t looking where he was going and almost ran over Liz.
“Sorry,” he said, reaching out to steady Liz.
Liz opened her arms, stood on her toes and hugged Marcus, who hugged her back. The medium tall, plus sized, caramel colored woman, who always had a cheerful smile, sniffled. “How is she?” she asked, after she stepped away from Marcus’s embrace. Liz had a pretty dimpled face, a heart and smile as large as her curvy hips, and she was anxious about her friend’s mental and physical state. She had a light sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and she wore her hair cut short and gelled.
“Nay-Nay is awake and responsive, so I guess she’s doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances. But she hasn’t talked about what happened,” Marcus answered.
“I’m so sorry, Marc. Monet didn’t deserve what happened to her. No one should have to go through that. There are some sick people in the world,” Liz commiserated. She was employed in the Human Resources Department at the hospital. She also had a master’s degree in Psychology, and was Monet’s best friend. “Do the police have any leads yet? I looked for Wade when I got here, but Smitty told me he was out doing some investigating.”
“That’s just what I was about to do myself. If you could sit with Monet until I get back from checking in with the guys and running a few errands, I would really appreciate it,” Marcus said.
“Boy, you know you don’t have to ask me that,” Liz scolded. “That’s my best friend in there. Monet’s like a sister to me. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
“Thanks, Liz. Monet’s asleep. When she wakes up, call me.”
“No problem. Marc, I think I know you pretty well, and I’m asking you not to be hasty. Let the investigation run its course. Please don’t try to take matters into your own hands,” Liz implored, and pulled on his jacket for emphasis.
“I guess you do know me, and I’ll wait for the department to do their job. But if I feel like they aren’t being effective, then I can’t promise that I won’t get involved,” Marcus said.
“I had a feeling you were going to say that.” Liz sighed. “I know you’re focused on the department right now, but I implore you to remain prayerful. This is a prime situation for Satan to cast doubts in your mind. We both know the Father above is in charge, and He will take care of this situation as He does everything in life,” she said.
“I know what you’re saying.” Marcus folded his arms across his chest. “Still, I took vows with Monet, and I promised to love, cherish, and take care of her. And that’s what I’m going to do,” he said, in a chilling tone of voice.
“Turn this matter over to the Lord,” Liz urged, holding her arms out.
“You know that I will, but I plan to still be actively involved in finding out who did this to my wife. Look, Liz, I’ve got to go; I need to call Monet’s brothers. I just hope they haven’t seen anything on television and think I’m ignoring them,” he said.
“I can call them while Monet is asleep, and anything else you want me to do,” she said.
“No, I’ll call them myself. I just need you to stay with my baby. I’ll be back whenever you call me, or within an hour or so.”
The two of them turned toward the sound of a cart being pushed down the hall. The cart was full of flowers, and was being maneuvered by a young, gangling man. He peered carefully at each room number and finally stopped outside of Monet’s room.
“Oh, what beautiful flowers,” Liz said,
admiring the floral displays. “This will help cheer up Monet.”
“Do you have ID?” Marcus asked the young man, looking him up and down.
The young man looked nervous and held up a badge around his neck. Marcus walked over and looked at the ID. “Okay, Liz, I’m out of here,” he said, satisfied the aide was just delivering flowers.
“Marcus, if you see or talk to Wade, would you tell him that I’m here?” she asked. He nodded. She squeezed his arm and walked inside Monet’s room.
Marcus was walking toward the elevator when he spied Dr. Washington. She beckoned for him to come join her at the nurse’s station.
“I wanted you to know the STD screenings came back negative, so Monet is fine from that standpoint. We should have the results of the HIV/AIDS tests by the middle of next week,” Dr. Washington stated.
“Thank you, Dr. Washington.” Marcus’ lips formed a pained smile. He looked upward, and then back at the physician. “Thank God for that. I know Monet will be relieved when she hears the news.”
“I will be checking on her, and I’ll talk to you later, Mr. Caldwell.” Dr. Washington walked to another patient’s room.
Marcus headed toward the elevator. He was visibly calmed by Dr. Washington’s news. He knew firsthand the results in Monet’s case were sometimes not as positive, and his brain couldn’t wrap itself around the possibility of a positive HIV test. He literally itched to do anything he could to bring Monet’s attacker to justice, along with dispensing his own brand of irate husband revenge. He felt like he could relate to the sayings about an eye for an eye, and people reaping what they sow.
He picked up his stride and pulled out his cell phone to call Wade, hoping desperately that his partner or Smitty had some good news for him. Monet’s assailant had made her attack personal, and Marcus didn’t intend to take what happened to his wife lightly.
Chapter 4
Marcus closed his cell phone after talking to Smitty, who told him to meet the team in the security area on the first floor. After he stepped out of the elevator on the first floor, he did a double take, shocked at the media fest that was taking place.
A public relations person from the hospital was holding a press conference. Several reporters broke away from the discussion when they saw Marcus and swarmed around him, asking if he had any comments. Marcus said that he didn’t, and that he had confidence the police would be able to solve the case soon. He stopped and asked the security guard for directions to the security room.
When Marcus arrived in the room, he found Wade, Smitty, and a couple of other police officers sitting at a table, having a meeting. They greeted him solemnly.
“I’m going around the corner to call Monet’s brothers, then I’ll come back, and you can tell me what you have,” Marcus informed his brother officers.
The police officers nodded and resumed their conversation. Marcus walked outside the door and took his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and called Monet’s brother, Duane. He quickly explained what had happened. Duane told Marcus he would call his brother, Derek, and they would be at the hospital within an hour.
Marcus closed his cell phone and it sounded again. He peered at the caller ID and saw Reverend Ruth Wilcox’s name. He quickly opened the phone. “Hello, Reverend Wilcox. How are you doing?” he said.
“I’m blessed, Marcus. Liz called to tell me about Monet. I wanted to know if there is anything I or the church can do to help? And if it would be okay for me to come to the hospital today to see Monet?” the minister asked.
“We’re holding up as well as can be expected. I can’t think of anything we need right at this moment. And by all means come by. It wouldn’t hurt for you to see Monet. She isn’t saying much right now, but I guess that’s normal,” he said.
“God will heal Monet,” Reverend Wilcox said consolingly. “I will visit her later today. She glanced down at her watch. “It’s almost two o’clock in the afternoon now. And if there’s anything I can do, please feel free to call me. You are not alone.”
“Thank you, and we’ll see you later today.” Marcus closed his phone and returned to the security office. After he sat in a hard blue plastic seat, he looked around table. “So what do you have? Any good leads?” he asked.
Smitty cleared his throat and looked down at a piece of paper in front of him. “Marcus, let me start out by saying the chief doesn’t want you involved in the case, and I agree with him. You’re too close to the vic, sorry, I mean Monet. We’ll keep you abreast of all the information we collect, but we ask that you let us do our jobs.”
Marcus’s chin jutted up aggressively. He wanted to argue, but knew that in the long run it wouldn’t do him any good. He reluctantly nodded his head. “Okay, I can do that.” Though his lips said those words, he knew that he would be doing some investigating of his own. “What do you know so far?”
“The hospital created a rape kit. We’re hoping there’s a sample of the perp’s DNA. We’ve sent the sample to the lab, and they’re running a match as we speak. So maybe we’ll get lucky there,” Smitty reported.
“I checked the scene, and the perp made off with Monet’s car, and her purse is also gone. So we have an APB out describing the car, and hopefully we’ll hear something from that soon. The canine squad has scoured the area, and we found cigarette butts near the bushes where the attack took place. So all in all, I would say things look promising,” Wade added, then he closed his case book.
“What about people in the neighborhood? Has anyone canvassed door-to-door?” Marcus asked, shifting in his seat because he felt antsy.
“On it,” Smitty said. “We know the drill. So far no one has reported seeing and/or hearing anything. But we’ll continue checking people within a twenty mile radius of the hospital. I’m encouraged by the DNA evidence because that means we can nail him once we get a match.”
“That’s assuming we get a match,” Marcus interjected. “We don’t in all cases.”
“We’re going to remain positive until we hear otherwise,” Smitty informed Marcus. “I know you’re eager for us to catch this guy, and we’re with you on that, buddy. But let us do our job,” he urged, knowing that his request was futile.
“That’s it?” Marcus asked, strumming his fingers on the table top, as if he thought the squad should be doing more.
“We still need to talk to Monet to see if she saw anything or got a good look at the perp’s face,” Smitty added, in a hushed tone of voice. “How soon do you think she’ll be up to it?”
“My wife was beaten pretty badly,” Marcus said, looking down at the table. “If you can hold off until tomorrow before you question her, I would appreciate it.” He looked back up. “Did Wade tell you that the attacker has Monet’s cell phone too? Has anyone tried calling her number?” he asked.
“I did,” Wade nodded, “but the phone just rang. I have a court order pending to get Monet’s phone records released.” He pushed his silver wire-framed glasses up on his nose. “We have an appointment with your cell phone provider to see if they’ll cooperate with us without the order. If Sprint is amenable, maybe we can track down where Monet’s phone is now.”
“It sounds like you all have your bases covered,” Marcus admitted.
“Just to set your mind at ease, I’ll question Monet myself,” Wade told his partner. “I think it will help her if someone she knows and is sensitive to the situation talks to her.”
“Good idea,” Marcus said grudgingly.
“So that’s where we are. If we get any new leads, we’ll see where they take us,” Smitty summarized. “The hospital is going to offer a reward for information leading to the perpetrator’s arrest. That’s why they’re holding a press conference. So that should help. They aren’t going to mention the sexual assault, just the attack. Now, why don’t you go upstairs and be a supportive husband to your wife?”
Wade looked at Marcus and nodded approvingly at Smitty’s suggestion.
“First I’m going to run home to shower and change, a
nd bring Monet some clothes,” Marcus said as he stood up. “I’ll check with you later. I assume you’re going to run the investigation from this room?”
“Yeah, we’ll be here. But keep in mind what I said about your involvement in the investigation,” Smitty warned Marcus, pointing at him with an outstretched finger.
“I heard you, man. I’ll see you later.” Marcus departed from the room. When he arrived at the entrance he saw his brothers-in-law, Duane and Derek, entering the hospital.
“How is Monet?” they asked breathlessly at the same time, after exchanging greetings with Marcus.
“She’s pretty banged up, and emotionally, she’s a wreck as you would expect her to be under the circumstances. The doctor said she’ll heal, but that will take time,” Marcus said.
Derek, who was a no-nonsense blustery type, asked Marcus point blank, “Have they found the pervert who did this to my sister?” His face showed how upset he was by the situation.
“We’re working on it. There are some promising leads, which the guys are looking into,” he replied. “I have to warn you, the media is here. For the sake of the investigation, if they ask you any questions, just reply no comment,” Marcus instructed.
“I disagree,” Duane interjected. Marcus was surprised. Of the two brothers, Duane was the passive one, usually content to go with the flow.
“Why do you say that?” Marcus turned and peered curiously at Duane.
“I think you or someone in the family should make an appeal to the people of Chicago and ask for anyone who has any information to step forward. You could even offer a reward. Why don’t you talk to the Fraternal Order of Police about it?” Duane suggested. He worked as a network analyst at Kennedy King College, which wasn’t located too far from the hospital. He and Monet often had lunch together. Derek worked as a manager for a clothing store.
Marcus rubbed the stubble on his chin. “The hospital is offering a reward. I’ll have Wade talk to the union and see if we can up the ante,” he said.
“You need to stop thinking like a policeman and think like a husband!” Duane shouted. “How do we know the person who did this to my sister wasn’t some crazy that you helped put away?”
Faith Page 3
