Fall

by Katherine Rhodes

“Good. We’ll talk later!”

  “You’re never going to have a full meal with them again,” Ellie teased.

  Lily was long gone as Ellie and I slipped into the Lexus and pulled away from the curb. “Ellie, this is a serious fucking crime scene we’re going to. I’m there as psychological support for children who may well have seen their friends and siblings shot. I need you to hang back and let me work. Whatever your preternatural senses are telling you. This is going to be gory.”

  “I’ve seen gory,” she whispered.

  The road sped by quietly. “I guess you have.”

  Horrific.

  It was the most accurate word I could come up with.

  I’d worked outside first, gathering the children, the survivors together and getting Ellie to help me calm the worst of them. They were hysterical—three, four and five year old children, covered in blood and brains.

  Some from their own siblings.

  Slowly the children were claimed by a parent who were escorted over by Lily or Officer Balin after being vetted.

  Lily sent the ones with their children alive and well first, picking up one or two.

  She held back the mother that lost two children but still had one in the coral. The father who found two of his three still alive. The grandmother who had only her one small granddaughter left in the whole world. Once the parents with their children alive were hustled out of the area, to a waiting bus for CHoP, Lily and Balin let them find their surviving children.

  There was another mother wailing at a gurney, with the world’s smallest body bag.

  I waited back with Ellie, who looked haunted. I wouldn’t go near anyone over there unless Lily asked me to help.

  A young officer ran out of the building, and found a bush. He heaved his guts out there, and Lily pointed him over to me.

  “Officer,” I said quietly, and had him sit on the picnic table next to us. Ellie handed him a bottle of water. “You need to breathe first.”

  He uncapped the bottle, took a drink, swished and spit, then ran a hand through his hair. “There’s…I have a toddler at home.”

  “What’s their name?”

  “Rebecca,” he managed. “She’s three. She’s got this amazing little personality. She’s the same age as…”

  “Deep breath,” I said. “How long have you been on the job?”

  “Eight months,” he answered.

  “First violent crime?”

  “I didn’t think so until now.”

  Placing a hand on his shoulder, I nodded. “We don’t know what real violence is until the most innocent are murdered without reason.”

  “They didn’t need to die.” He nodded.

  “No, they didn’t.”

  He took another drink of water, and stood. “This is my job though. I’m here because I want to protect the innocent.”

  “We can’t be everywhere all the time,” I said. “Remember that. This is your job, but even Superman can’t save everyone.”

  “Only Ironman can do that,” he answered, and I saw a smirk on his face.

  “You’ll be okay. If you want to talk to someone about this, Detective Haden will set you up with the councilors. Also, there’s no shame in puking.”

  The officer nodded. “Better behind the bush away from the crime scene.”

  “I appreciate that,” came a voice from behind us.

  I looked over my shoulder and found Reid Sadowski walking up from his car, his crime scene bag in hand. I lifted an eyebrow.

  “Good evening, Doctor.”

  He nodded at me. “Good evening, Doctor. I’ve heard we have a massive crime scene here?”

  “You’ll have to talk to Detective Haden,” the officer said. “I have to get back in and see if there’s anything else I can do at this point. Doctor Warner, thank you.”

  I watched the young-ish officer head back to his duties. He’d be fine. It was how close something this violent hit to home that got to him. A moment later he disappeared into the building.

  “Master Black,” I murmured under my breath.

  “Shut the fuck up, Quilikrozh.”

  Ellie smirked. “Well, that’s established. And aren’t you not supposed to say things like that to her?”

  Reid turned and eyeballed Ellie. At first it was a suspicious, gauging look of assessment. Then, it morphed into a strange recognition—and finally a spark of desire.

  “Ellie, could you check if they need help with the last two children? They’re in the back of the car with Officer Goodsloe.”

  Hopping off the table, she headed over for the patrol car where the two kids, who were now parentless, were waiting for Paige to arrive.

  As soon as Ellie was far enough away, I punched Reid’s arm, hard.

  “Ouch!” he gasped and turned and looked at me.

  I stepped into him. “Hear this now. That is my daughter, and she is sixteen and confused. She may be a versilange, but that does not give you permission to eye-fuck her like that. Understood?”

  He cleared his throat. “I apologize. She’s…gorgeous.”

  “I know,” I answered. “And she’s battling a lot of personal demons right now. She doesn’t need to try to battle them in bed. Capice? A finger on her person, and I will have it removed.”

  “Yes, my lady,” he whispered quietly. Glancing up at the building, he saw another person run out and puke behind a bush. “Oh, Jesus. All these greenies—oh.”

  The person who stood up was Captain Brown, who was in no way a greenie.

  Sighing, I shook my head. “Lily said it was terrible, but if Brown just barfed, it’s gotta be even worse than we thought. I’ve been out here with the kids and we had to have the medics come over and wipe the kids down with sanitizer.”

  “Why?”

  “They were covered with blood and brains.”

  “Jesus Christ,” he whispered. “Don’t tell me anything else. I have to go in there untainted and get the facts of the scene.”

  I nodded. “Do you need help?”

  His head swiveled to look at me. “Can you handle it?”

  “If I can’t, I leave.”

  Taking a deep breath, he motioned me to follow him. He was the assistant medical examiner, not crime scene, but it was important that he get an unaltered, uninterpreted view of the scene for them, and for the autopsies he would have to do.

  There was a box of booties at the door, and we each grabbed a set, slipping them on. I technically didn’t have access to the building, but Lily wouldn’t stop me. Seeing what happened inside would also help me with the children I would have to talk to in the next few days. Knowing exactly what they saw, why they came out covered in the biological matter they had, would color the way I could walk them through this. I would have to refer the parents to Dr. Astor, who was conspicuously absent from the area.

  I hated that police worked with him. He was a miserable old bastard of a psychologist who was there for the line on his resume and the consulting fees. Not for the patients.

  At least I would have an idea and maybe pass on some notes to the old fuck.

  The walls were riddled with bullet holes as we walked in, and I sucked in a breath through my teeth. This was unreal. I saw Lily at the end of the corridor, and she looked green around the gills.

  “What the hell, Lil?” I asked.

  “AK,” she said. “Hundred round magazine.”

  “Holy hell,” Reid said.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “We found the wife dead at home.” Lily uncapped her water and took a quick sip. “It looked like he killed her with a quick spray of bullets. It was ugly.”

  Reid pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tell me we have this guy?”

  “Dead,” Lily answered, and pointed into the room. “Pulled out a .22 and shot himself in the head.”

  “Can’t even make him suffer,” I mumbled.

  “Oh, he’ll suffer. Don’t you worry about that.”

  Reid and I snapped our gazes to her, and Lily’s eyes bur
ned with an angry heat. The kind of hellfire that only someone from Hell could summon.

  “Whoa,” Reid said. “Forgot about that.”

  “It would mean more coming from you, Quilikrozh,” Lily whispered.

  “Not ready,” I answered.

  She nodded, and motioned us forward. “You’re probably not really ready for this. I’m having trouble keeping dinner and lunch down.”

  “I’m a coroner,” Reid said.

  “And you don’t deal with shit like this, believe me.”

  Striding forward, with no hubris, Reid entered the room and stopped dead. “You’re right, I wasn’t ready. How many?”

  “Eight children, two teachers and the perp.”

  “Water?”

  The officer behind us held up two bottles and handed one to me and one to him. Reid cracked his and took a sip. I walked up ready to crack mine and stepped into the room.

  A wave of dizziness hit me hard. This was…

  I looked to Lily. “On second thought, maybe I am ready to make a request of my brother.”

  Paige

  I pinched the bridge of my nose out of habit, then winced.

  The bruise was almost gone, but not quite, and I’d made it angry with that.

  Doing my best to ignore the pain I’d inflicted on myself, I glanced at the papers on the desk. Lily was sitting in her chair and the ever intimidating Doctor Wren Warner was leaning against the wall.

  These two were a fucking force of nature, and sometimes I didn’t know how to deal with it. Stick Fischer or Lincoln in the picture, I was toast.

  “So, you’re telling me that the mother, the stepfather, and the father are all dead and when the father went to kill the kid—he killed eight other children and left his son an orphan.”

  “Yes.” Lily’s words were clipped. “From the notes and emails we found, he wanted to kill the mother and stepfather mostly. He wanted the kid.”

  I nodded my head. “Perfect sense.”

  “Every goddamned news outlet is camped out in front of that daycare,” Wren said. “We need to get this kid somewhere safe as soon as possible.”

  “I agree,” I said. “I’ll run through the families that we have ready and trained for trauma. How much did the little one see?”

  “Not much,” Lily said. “He ducked and covered at the first bullet. Like they were taught.”

  Wren leaned forward. “We need to keep his location quiet, though, Paige. We’re afraid of retaliation.”

  “The father…”

  Lily shook her head. “Not the father. From the other parents. Eight children were shot dead. Two adults. You think that one or two of them wouldn’t go off the deep end? They lost children. The man who wanted that child dead missed, and when you lose a child you aren’t rational. You might want revenge, or to finish the job.”

  “That’s terrible to think like that,” I whispered.

  “I am literally paid to think like that. So yeah, it sucks, but it’s real. People aren’t sane at the death of a child.”

  I scrubbed my face, another bruise behind my hair line lighting up with some pain. I ignored it. We had to find a place to basically hide this kid, and I didn’t like hiding children. Not after what happened with Ben.

  Lily was right though. We had to find a place to keep the boy safe, away from all those damn cameras and reporters.

  “How old is he?”

  “Four,” Wren said. “We’ve got him holed up in St. Christopher’s. He’s got a guard, and a roommate and that’s it.”

  “Wren—”

  “No,” she said, sadly. “No, we can’t. We have two already traumatized children and Ben isn’t… It’s too much. We’ll lose someone in the mess.”

  “All right.” I nodded, tapping my fingers on the pile of files I had on the desk. “I have other homes. I’ll pull something up.”

  “Please, make sure that the address doesn’t get out,” Wren said.

  That rankled. I knew, on some level, she wasn’t trying to be mean. With the media circus it was a legit concern, but I didn’t need to be reminded of all my small fuck ups with Ellie and Ben.

  “I will,” I answered. “That’s going to be a trick with all these reporters hanging around. I—”

  The door slammed open and a teenager trounced into the room, wild eyed and pissed off, with two officers trying to pull him back. “Where’s my brother?!”

  “Kid, you can’t—”

  Lily stood and held off the uniforms. “I got him, officers.”

  “He busted Derwick’s nose!” the one snapped.

  “I said I got him,” Lily barked at them. “Take Derwick to the ER. I will deal with the kid.” She pulled the teen in and kicked the door close. “Jackasses.”

  “Where’s my brother?”

  “Bad move, assaulting an officer, kid,” Lily said.

  “Please, he called me a nigger and told me to go back to the jungle.”

  Lily pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fucking idiots. Every single one of them.”

  As she let out an exasperated breath, Wren stood and offered a hand. “Hi. Doctor Warner. And you are?”

  “Looking for my damn brother.”

  “You get further with manners, young man.” There was no hostility in her voice.

  A second went by, and he shook her hand. “Andre White. Dre.”

  “Well, Dre, it’s nice to meet you. Please sit, and we can talk about your brother.” Wren motioned to her former seat. “What is your brother’s name?”

  “James. James Higgins. The kid that’s been all over the news.”

  I whipped out the folder on James and started thumbing through it. “There’s no record of a brother.”

  “He ain’t my real brother. He’s my stepbrother.”

  “There’s no…”

  Dre sank a bit into the seat. “My daddy and his momma were supposed to get married. My daddy was killed in a car wreck about three months ago. Momma was trying to get the courts to give me to her.”

  “Oh, Dre, I’m so sorry,” Wren said.

  “He’s my brother. He’s all I got left.”

  “How old are you, Dre?” I asked.

  “Sixteen,” he answered.

  “Well, this just got worse,” Lily said.

  “Two minors,” I grumbled. “And why weren’t you noted in all the paperwork around here? Your brother is practically a celebrity, but no one checked up on you?”

  “I keep quiet,” he said. “I don’t like attention.”

  “You liked it enough to punch a cop in the face,” Lily admonished.

  Dre turned in the seat. “He called me a—”

  Wren’s hand dropped on to his shoulder. “Please, relax. We know what he called you. Detective Haden was just trying to point out that if you really want to stay on the downlow, you can’t punch cops in the face, no matter what they call you.”

  “You ever had to deal with shit like that? Listen to people assume who you are by what you look like?”

  I spoke up this time, watching Wren clutch her fist, “Yes, actually Dre. She does. Or did. Fortunately, a new and amazing procedure corrected her hand. And we are also aware that what we experience as racism and ablism is nothing like that of yours. So please. We want to help you. If you claim that James is your brother, we’ll be happy to work with that and work to keep you together. We’re not your enemies in here.”

  He sank back into the chair, and nodded. “Sorry. I get a little rough. I got a lot to hide and protect.”

  The words made Lily and Wren exchange glances and they tripped down my spine. Something else was going on here? Why would he have a lot to protect?

  “Something you need to tell us?” Lily asked.

  He stared at her, then at me, and then at Wren. He looked down at his hands. “Dad told me I gotta protect him. There’s stuff he needs to know, and he always told me that I was the one who had to take over if anything happened to him. It’s…”

  Lily and Wren looked at each other. Li
ly leaned over and put her hand on his. “Zhadanjir rek’cherade.”

  The darkest ones be eternally damned.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d heard her say it, and it wasn’t the first time my brain just knew what it meant.

  It was also apparent that Dre knew what it meant as well with the way his head whipped around and his eyes widened in a terrified puppy stare at the detective.

  Wren spoke first, “Lily…” Her hand fluttered at me, disturbed and concerned.

  Lily shook her head. “She saw the door explode in my face. I couldn’t wipe her out. So it is what it is.” She grabbed Dre’s hand. “Versilange?”

  “Me? Yes.” Dre’s words were quiet.

  “Your father?” Lily asked.

  “Laze Higgins,” he answered. “But maybe…Finlaestus would be the better answer.”

  “Fierjhendanj.”

  He nodded. “That’s the word. Yes. And my brother is like me.”

  “Two versilange?” Wren whispered.

  “Then there’s an angelicci…”

  I coughed. “Could someone try to explain what’s going on here?”

  “Can’t you flashy thing her?” Wren asked.

  Dre laughed, hard, and Lily just shook her head. “No, I told you, it doesn’t work on her. She remembers. And she’s seen me do…the stuff.”

  “The stuff?” Dre asked.

  Lily turned and looked straight at me. “The Stuff.” She held out her hand, palm up, and a disperse, cool flame leapt up from the center.

  Dre might have jumped back, but I honestly wasn’t even close to being phased by this. I had seen what she had survived at that door, I saw what she did with the dying man at the house. And there was no missing the flames in her eyes as she held on to his very soul.

  “What the hell?” Dre whispered, ducking behind Wren.

  Which was hilarious. Wren was a respectable five foot seven, but Dre had to stand six three, at least.

  Which also should have been terrifying because a woman I considered at least a part time friend was holding fire in her hand like it was candy.

  But I was totally nonplussed.

  Wren stared at me, though, her eyes more intense than I had seen in the years that I had been working with her at the hospitals.

  “Why are you so calm?”