Reclamation: Book 2 – Lies in the Morgue
Erosa Knowles
Copyright 2014 by Erosa Knowles
ISBN: 978-1-937334-71-0
First Edition Electronic November 2014
Published by Sitting Bull Publications, LLC
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author‘s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, businesses, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only. The publisher does not have any control over or assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their contents.
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RECLAMATION: LIES IN THE MORGUE
BY: EROSA KNOWLES
Club Reclamation is a place where Vets from all military branches come, chill, grab a drink or meal and find like-minded folks with a story to tell, or problem to share or a soapbox to stand on. If you’ve served in the Armed Forces, chances are you’ll find a friend who gets you and what you’ve been through at Club Reclamation, where everyone gets a second chance.
Former SEAL Maximus Delgado is called to the morgue to identify the body of a young boy who could be his four year old son, Kevin. With Detective Vargas and Brock in attendance, Max faces down his fears to do the unthinkable.
Mercy steps in and sends Max and his team on a journey to find his son who’s reportedly ill with a highly contagious disease. He must defend his name and honor against those who oppose him. With his lady by his side, the clock is ticking and Max is running out of options to defeat the Lies in the Morgue.
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Thanks Vicky, Karen and Kelli for all your help in getting these out! I appreciate you and everyone who loves and appreciates Vets, this fictional story is for you!
Chapter One
“Please, come this way,” Detective Vargas said, his voice low and apologetic. From the moment Max received the call an hour ago, his entire world had darkened to a numbing shade of gray. Brock, his partner and closest friend, followed in silence. Considering an hour ago he’d been across the state verifying information, his presence spoke volumes.
A tall, slim male with oval-shaped glasses met them at the door. “Mr. Delgado?”
Max nodded and stared into the owlish eyes of the man in front of him rather than look a few feet beyond his shoulder into the room.
“Franks, I run the place. Thanks for coming.” He stepped aside and walked into the chilled area at a sedate pace. “This one came in two days ago, DOA. Young, no identifying marks, no local missing notices. After I entered it into the database, the Detective called me and mentioned you were searching for your son.” He stood next to a small draped body on a steel table and looked at Max.
Unable to lift his eyes from the miniature form, Max’s vision wavered as the magnitude of the situation slammed into him. Two hours ago, he had been on his way to have dinner with his lady when Detective Vargas called. The idea that his son, his only child, could lie dead in a morgue hundreds of miles from home never crystallized until now. Until hearing the words, and seeing the small lump on the table.
“Mr. Delgado?”
“Give him a minute,” Brock snapped.
Max sensed his partner moved closer, but neither spoke. Words could never express the horror trapped inside his heart and mind that his five-year-old boy no longer existed in this world. Or the guilt that gnawed on him every day for leaving Kevin with the babysitter for that last job. Now this? A call in the evening to identify a young boy who lost his life before he had a chance to live?
His chest tightened at the slim chance it was Kevin. Although he commanded his feet to move forward, they refused. Max closed his eyes, tipped his head back, and breathed through the fear, the dread, and the guilt. Time stood still while he prepared himself as best he could to deal with the unthinkable. Seconds ticked away in his mind. Exhaling, he realized there was no way to prepare. He refocused on the cloth-draped body and moved toward the table.
Franks bent forward and lifted the fabric. Max stared at the hands holding the material, noticed a small scar next to the thumb, and then allowed his gaze to travel further. The first thing he saw was the dark curly hair. His gut clenched, and he snapped his eyes shut. No… he howled within the silence of his mind, remembering days when he teased and threatened to cut the curls from his son’s head. Those cheerful memories rose to haunt and torment him. He turned aside, prepared to leave.
“Mr. Delgado, can you identify him?” Franks asked with the calm of a man who had seen too much to become emotional over the death of a little boy.
Inexplicably, the question and the attitude energized Max. He turned his hard gaze on the hapless man, prepared to rip him a new one when he saw the uncovered face of the child.
His mouth opened, closed, and then opened again. Even though it had been nine months since he’d held his son close or kissed his cheeks, Max knew the young child was not his. Waves of profound relief poured off him to the point he stumbled. And while he pitied the parents of this young child, he rejoiced in the hope that his son was alive and healthy, waiting to be found.
Max cleared his throat and blinked a few times, clearing his vision. “No, I can’t. That’s not Kevin.”
“Thank the Lord,” Brock said with feeling.
Detective Vargas released a long breath.
Franks sighed and recovered the boy. “Okay, thanks for coming. Hopefully someone will notice this little one’s missing soon. Don’t seem right that there’s no missing persons report filed.” He shook his head.
Relieved and mighty grateful, Max stood a few moments watching Franks put the child away.
“My girlfriend works for Social Services and she complains all the time of cases where parents don’t take proper care of their kids. It really bothers her when the kids are young, like him.”
Max nodded, realized Franks would continue his rant, and glanced at Brock, who listened closely.
“There’s this case she’s got now, pissed her off. She got a call from the hospital about a kid, same age as this one.” He tipped his head toward the dead little boy. “His grand-mom, although the woman claimed to be his mother, brought him in because of a fever. Turns out the boy had an advanced case of strep throat. Doctor couldn’t get the temperature down and wanted to run more tests. The woman refused, started unhooking the boy, causing him more pain. The doctor felt the child’s life was at risk and called security, and then social services. By the time my girlfriend arrived, the woman had taken the child and left. Security wasn’t worth shit. Upset, the doctor chewed my lady’s ear with his concerns. He k
ept saying something wasn’t right, and telling her how sick the boy was.”
Max went cold. His chest refused to expand, he couldn’t breathe. Franks was talking about Kevin and Helen. Even without a description of the boy or the woman, he still knew it in his gut.
“What hospital was this?” Detective Vargas asked.
“Baptist, it's just a few miles from here in the next county. Why?”
“How long ago did this happen?” Brock asked.
“I’m not sure. Want me to call her and ask? She was so upset she was still talking about it yesterday.”
“Can you call her, please?” the detective asked.
Max heard the conversation flow around him like waves of information on a distant shore, but he couldn’t connect. Not after the trip to the morgue. He didn’t consider himself an emotional person. In fact, all the women he’d dated claimed he was deficient in this area. But the last two hours had proved them all wrong.
“Max?” Brock called out and tapped him on the shoulder.
Inch by difficult inch, he turned to break free from the steadfast grip of shock he suspected shrouded him. Brock snapped his fingers in front of him. In Max’s mind, he chewed his buddy a new hole for his behavior, while in reality, he couldn’t speak. First, his son might be dead. Next his son is sick and possibly dying. All the while, he stood on the fucking sidelines of life unable to rescue the one person he would give his life to find.
“Max… come on Chief. We got this. Don’t give up now. We’re here and we’ll find him in time for his birthday. Remember, you promised Kevin his birthday. I need you to snap out of this man.” Brock’s palms rested on his shoulders.
“Man… I don’t know.” His throat tightened as he forced the words through.
“You do know. Kevin is counting on you. He’s waiting for you to bring him home. Skinny and Jace are out there searching everywhere. It’s just a matter of time, but I need you with me.”
Max closed his eyes, and the images returned of Kevin at home, laughing, running, playing, yelling for Max to find him in their game of hide and seek. Then the images changed. Kevin’s laughter turned to screams, asking Max where was he, and when was he coming to get him and worse, Kevin asking what he had done wrong and then promising to be a good boy. A tornado of voices and images released in the confines of Max’s mind, he buckled. Brock caught him and led him to a chair.
“Get him some water,” Brock snapped, the tail of his coat brushed against the back of Max’s bowed head.
Colors swirled in and out as Kevin laughed and Helen sneered at his inability to find her. Nine months ago she had babysat for Max, and then stolen Kevin before Max returned from overseas. The older woman resembled everyone’s grandmother and shouldn’t have been able to outwit him and his former SEAL team mates, but she had. Now his son’s life was at risk because of Helen’s fear to allow him to stay in the hospital.
“Drink this.” Brock shoved the open bottle into Max’s hand.
“Thanks,” he whispered, and drank the cold water. The chill from the liquid cleared and centered his thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart. Brock was right, Kevin needed him. He looked at Vargas, who appeared worried.
“Thanks.” Max said turning toward Franks, who was on the phone writing something on a piece of paper. “Did he get the information we need?” he asked.
Brock answered. “Yeah, shouldn’t take us over thirty minutes to get to the hospital. The detective thinks we may need legal representation to see the records or for the doctor to talk to you.”
Max nodded. “I’ll call Nick Burges, let him know what’s going on. He’s good.” Max and Nick had become friends when he handled Tamara’s, Max’s girlfriend, murder arrest.
Brock looked at him a long moment, must’ve been satisfied by what he saw because he nodded. “Okay.”
Franks disconnected, shoved the phone into his lab coat pocket, and continued looking at the paper in his hand. After a few seconds, he held it out toward Detective Vargas. “Here’s the information. She couldn’t say a lot but these are the main players. The doctor, nurse, security, and the floor nurse.”
Vargas looked at it briefly and then handed it to Max. “Thanks, I appreciate your help,” Detective Vargas said as he headed toward the door.
Max shared the paper with Brock, and followed Vargas as he talked to Franks. When they reached the door, Max handed Franks a card.
Franks read it and then looked at Max. “Club Reclamation? What’s that?”
“A club near Interstate 95. Show that card to the waitress, and she’ll give you and your lady a free round of drinks and a free meal.”
Franks eyes widened. “Thanks man, I appreciate this.” He looked at the card, and then at Max and then the two other men flanking him. “Thanks.”
Max nodded. “Thank you for all of your help. I appreciate it, drop by the club sometimes, nice easy-going folks.”
Vargas chuckled and walked out the door, followed by a smiling Brock and Max.
“Easy-going, that’s great. What kind of club is it?” Franks asked from the doorway.
“A place where vets from all branches of service can put their weapons on the table and have a good time,” Max said over his shoulder.
“Wha-a-a-t?” Franks stuttered.
“It’s all good, we’ve served our country and are harmless,” Max said and walked out the building.
Chapter Two
“I’m glad that wasn’t your son, but I felt I had to let you check it out just in case,” Detective Vargas said when they reached the parking lot.
“Glad that wasn’t my boy, too. Thanks for looking into that and contacting me. Despite how much the idea hurt, I’d rather know the truth, so continue monitoring the wire for anything that might be Kevin. I appreciate it.” Max shook hands with the detective who'd once accused Max of murder and then arrested Tamara instead. Things were rocky in the beginning, but leveled out when Max and the detective worked together to rescue Tamara.
Vargas got into his car and then left the parking lot. Max, in his Land Rover, and Brock, in his F250 truck, followed shortly after, all headed west toward the hospital.
Max tapped the phone icon on the steering wheel.
“Hi, everything okay?” Tamara asked.
“Yeah, a little touchy for a moment, but in the end things worked out.” Max hoped she wasn’t angry that he'd refused her offer to come along, but he wasn’t ready to share that level of pain with her.
“That’s good.”
He waited to hear about her day, or talk about what she’d done after he’d canceled their dinner plans. She said nothing. He imagined her sitting with the phone to her ear, her hair pulled back in a full bun highlighting her angular shaped face and full lips with her long legs crossed.
“I’m heading to Baptist Hospital to check on a few things, want me to call when I’m done and on my way?” Since they’d been dating, except for a few nights when he was out of town or too tired from tracking down leads on his son, they spent every night together.
“I’m going to Gayle’s and will be there for a while. Plus, I’ve got a few showings and appointments tomorrow, so it’ll be late when I’m done.”
“When did you decide to go to Gayle’s? After I canceled dinner?” The question was petty since he had canceled on her, but in his mind he had a good reason.
“Yeah, we met for dinner and decided to hang out a little longer.”
“Are you spending the night with her?”
“No, but it’ll be late when I get home, plus I have a busy day tomorrow.”
Max knew he should let it go. There was no way to win this, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Are you mad at me for not taking you with me?”
There was a pause. “No. I’m not mad.”
He waited for her to explain and when she didn’t, he ground his teeth in frustration. After the emotional roller-coaster he’d been on in the last few hours, and not knowing what he would learn at the hospital, he should ha
ng up and deal with Tamara at another time. He knew that.
“Then why do I feel as if I’m being punished?”
“Punished? Because I’m going to hang out with my friend?” The way she phrased the question made his comment seem ridiculous. Perhaps he was wrong, maybe there was nothing more to it than she claimed.
“I’ll come over to your place tonight when I leave here. Since you said you’d be home late, it shouldn’t matter. I’ll wait for you or you can wait for me.”
“Max…”
“I need to be with you tonight.” He hadn’t meant to sound so damn needy or like he was begging. He wasn’t. But he’d need her to hold him after the morgue and the hospital. There was only so much he wanted to go through alone.
“Okay, I’ll see you later tonight. Be careful.”
Max released a breath, pleased she hadn’t fought him on this. His lady was no pushover, and he needed to be mindful of that and pick his battles with care. But tonight was one of those nights he needed to rest in her arms while she stroked his head, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.
“Thanks, baby. I’ll see you later.” He disconnected. The GPS told him to turn into the well-lit parking lot of the hospital. The building wasn’t that large, although it was a good size for a rural county. He grabbed the leather satchel holding files and documentation on Kevin and the kidnapping case.
Brock parked next to him, and together they headed to the entrance. Once inside, they walked toward the information desk.
Max looked at the young woman at the desk and spoke. “I’d like to talk to Dr. Mason, please.”
“Your name?
“Max Delgado.”
“Dr. Mason? One minute.” She punched in a few numbers and spoke into the phone while looking at them from the corner of her eye. When she hung up, she smiled at him. “Dr. Mason will be here in a few minutes, he’s busy with a patient at the moment.”
Max nodded and headed toward the sitting area with Brock. “Did you call Nick?” Brock asked, reminding Max to contact the man on his way to the hospital.
Lies in the Morgue Page 1
