Lies in the Morgue

by Erosa Knowles

  From the looks of this room and everything she’d seen in the house, no one could ever believe Max wasn’t crazy about his son. The two of them appeared in pictures everywhere she looked. Two of them… what’d that mean for her? She and Max had only been dating shy of two months. Neither of them ever said the “L” word or talked about a future. Now that the future stared her smack-dab in the face, not knowing if they had one together bothered her.

  She wrapped her arms around her waist and strolled into the kitchen. It was big and modern, stainless steel appliances. Tamara looked over her shoulder at the living room and wondered if Max cooked. He hadn’t for her, but that didn’t mean much. Her work hours were so crazy, it was easier to send out for something than to cook for one person when she got home. But this kitchen looked as if it’d been used often.

  There was so much she didn’t know about him. With her feelings for him escalating she noticed the deficit of information more often. Moving out of the kitchen, she stood in the hall and looked at the other rooms.

  “Go ahead, take a look around, I don’t mind,” Max said from the sofa.

  Tamara jumped at the unexpected sound of his voice. Her hand flew to her chest and she bit back a scream. Breathing hard, she pushed her hair out of her face and headed in his direction. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to. But go ahead –” The phone rang cutting him off. His gaze slid from her as he reached over and answered. “Yeah?” He swung his feet off the sofa, grabbed a pen from the coffee table and wrote some information on the back of some mail.

  “You sure? It’s been verified?”

  Max looked at her and then wrote something else down.

  Based on the look in his eyes, Tamara looked for her purse, grabbed it and picked up his crutches. He clicked off, and dropped his forehead onto his hand.

  Tamara waited for him to tell her what happened. Each second that ticked by, she wanted to scream and shake it out of him. He finally dropped his hand and reached for the crutches instead of speaking. She gave him one at a time.

  “Kevin’s been admitted into an emergency room in Virginia. It took Vargas a while to get the information, but the local cops have been called in. Brock arranged air transportation to get me there, he’s on his way, should be here soon.”

  Happy for him and disappointed at being left behind again, Tamara swallowed around the lump of pain in her throat. “Okay.” She hefted her bag on her shoulder and turned toward the door.

  “You need to open the garage door from the kitchen.”

  “Huh?” Her brows furrowed as she looked at him.

  “You were going to park your car in the garage, right? I don’t know how long we’ll be there so it’s best to leave it inside.”

  The garage… right. That had been the furthest thing from her mind, but she made a quick u-turn for the kitchen and headed to the garage. She returned to find Max had changed into a pair of loose sweats and a fresh tee-shirt.

  “Brock should be here any minute. Put this in your bag.” He handed her a folder and she stuffed it in her purse.

  “Could you check and make sure all the lights are off?”

  She nodded and did quick check of the rooms, but stopped to stare in awe when she reached Kevin’s room. Red striped race cars lined the wall, a race car bed sat in the middle of the room, everything was coordinated like a little boy's dream.

  “Brock’s here. I need you to reset the alarm.”

  * * * *

  An hour and a half later, Brock, Skinny, Jace and two other men, Trapp and Sweet, arrived in Virginia. They left from the airstrip in separate cars. Tamara drove Max to the hospital. The drive took less than twenty minutes, but it seemed longer. The silence in the car stretched her nerves tight. She sent constant prayers on Kevin and Max’s behalf.

  When she pulled into the parking area she noticed the blue flashing lights of police cars. “Is Detective Vargas going to meet you here?”

  “I don’t know.” Max stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched tight. She parked and went to open the door. He placed his hand on her arm, stopping her. “We need to wait a few minutes. There’s a situation.”

  Tamara leaned back in her seat and looked at him. “Situation?”

  “Yes. Helen brought Kevin here three hours ago. They took him in immediately because he was severely dehydrated, had a high temp, and some other things. She refused to allow him out of her sight. When the doctor tested him for strep, it came back positive and was reported. They tried to get her to leave the room, she refused. When they threatened to call security, she pulled a gun.”

  Tamara gasped. “You’re not serious.”

  He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “I am. She refuses to leave his side and has threatened the doctor if Kevin doesn’t get better.”

  Tamara didn’t know what to say. “Is that why we can’t go inside?”

  “No. The guys have to get in position. Helen’s cousin is somewhere nearby, Skinny caught sight of a suspicious-looking car. They’re making sure it’s safe before we get out of the car. Shouldn’t be much longer.”

  “Her cousin? The one who’s been helping her? The guy in the report?”

  Max nodded.

  “I can drive you right in front of the doors and you can go in.”

  “And leave you alone?” The way he asked the question told her the answer. He wouldn’t leave her behind.

  “Sorry. I know you want to be inside, just trying to help.”

  He took her hand and squeezed without saying anything else. They sat for a few more minutes, watching cops arrive and leave in a bustle of activity. When the television truck pulled into the parking lot, Max began to curse.

  “This is turning into a damn circus. Let’s go.” He opened his door, grabbed his crutches, and met her in front of the rental car. Together they walked toward the entrance. Tamara tried to remain unaffected by the stares she and Max received. This was a small rural county after all.

  “I need you to step this way if you need services,” the police officer said, pointing them in another direction. When they reached the intake desk, Tamara handed Max the folder from her purse. He pulled out two pages.

  “I need you to contact the hospital administrator and give him these papers. It’ll help clarify some of the confusion going on down here,” he said, handing them to her.

  She glanced at the papers and then looked at him. “Excuse me? Who are you?”

  “Max Delgado, Kevin Delgado’s father. That’s the little boy the doctor’s been working on for the past few hours while that crazy woman holds a gun on him. Now… get those papers to the hospital administrator before my attorney arrives.”

  Her eyes widened and she picked up the phone. After a few words, she backed from the desk. “Please come with me. She led them to a set of elevators, and a few moments later they were stepping off into the executive offices.

  A woman who reminded Tamara of Roseanne Barr met and ushered them toward a conference room. Detective Vargas and four other men were in the room.

  “Hi Max, Ms. Gibbs,” Vargas said, shaking their hands after Max settled into a chair.

  Tamara sat nearby, listening. The whole shoot-em up, bang, bang situation seemed unreal. People didn’t take other peoples' kids for no reason where she came from, and they never threatened doctors with guns in the hospital. Truly she’d stepped into an alternate reality, except the bullet proof vests these men wore were real, the conversations with hostage negotiators was real, and the discussions of someone dying if the circumstances went wrong was real.

  “I heard the Loils woman made it out of surgery and is talking,” Vargas said, pulling up a chair.

  “She is? Did she see who did it this time?” Max asked. Tamara leaned closer to listen.

  “She didn’t see, but swears they were the same ones who assaulted her the last time. Something about the way they smelled. Anyway, she had a talk with Helen an hour or so before. Supposedly Helen was going to stay with her after she lef
t the hospital. It didn’t take much for the Assistant DA to convince Loils that Helen set her up, and sent the men after her. Loils took it hard but is singing like a bird,” Vargas said.

  “It won’t matter, she doesn’t plan to leave here alive, not after pulling a gun on the doc. She’s lost her grip on reality. The question is how many will she take with her,” Max said into the sudden silence in the room.

  “We’re working on that,” one of the men said from across the room.

  “I’ve cleared out that side of the building for the most part. We moved the oxygen from the area first and then the other containers. It took some time, but we moved all the patients from the ER to another floor. She doesn’t seem to be concerned about anything other than the boy responding. So far he hasn’t. The longer it takes for him to open his eyes, the more hostile she becomes.”

  “Why isn’t he responding to the medication?” Max asked.

  “We gave him a light sedative because he became agitated when the nurse tried to administer the IV. Now it’s backfiring on us. She thinks we’ve done something to him and threatened the doctor. He refuses to return to the room. No one will go inside the room to check on the boy while she’s in there. Fortunately there’s nothing else to be done for your son. The medicine needs time to work. The last reading of his temperature was a hundred and one, down from a hundred and six when he came in.”

  “What?” Tamara gasped, looking at the man who had introduced himself as the hospital administrator.

  “He’s a very sick little boy, Ma’am.”

  She took Max’s hand beneath the table and squeezed. No one spoke.

  “We’ve got live feed. They brought in a negotiator from Roanoke to talk to her,” one of the men said. Max and Tamara moved closer and watched the screen.

  After an hour, Helen hadn’t responded to anything anyone said. It had been a waste of time. “Vincente Baretti has men nearby,” Max told Vargas as he read the text from Brock.

  “I’ll let the officer on duty know.” Vargas picked up the com unit, but before he could speak, the sound of gunfire spilled across the monitor. They watched cops run to offer cover for the few cops outside. The monitor split and they were able to see sections of the outside parking lot.

  Max saw Brock’s truck but didn’t see his friend. Concerned, he leaned forward and tried to make sense of the unfolding scene. A black suburban swerved and spun before it slammed into an exterior lighting concrete pole. A man jumped from the car holding his arm and ran a few feet before he fell to the ground.

  There was more shooting but Max couldn’t determine where it came from.

  “Oh shit,” Tamara said, pointing at another screen. Max switched screens and saw Helen stand in the doorway yelling and pointing her gun.

  “What’s she saying? Is it Kevin? Has he gotten worse?” Max asked, standing and searching for his crutches. Tamara handed them to him, and he headed for the door.

  “Max, wait,” Vargas called. “She’s asking for Vincente, she heard the running and then the gunfire. She’s asking about Vincente. If she sees you, she’ll fire her weapon and someone else may get hurt. They’re telling her Vincente is outside so she’ll leave the room. When she does, they’ll take her. A little more patience, man,” Vargas said.

  Man exhaled and looked at the screen. He hadn’t gotten a good look at Helen in months and looked closely. She looked tired and resigned as she argued with someone off screen.

  “Leave the room,” Max whispered, edging her out the room, and out of his son’s life. Helen took a few steps forward and two men rushed her. The gun went off and one of the men fell. Helen appeared shocked and threw the gun down. Hospital staff rushed to the fallen officer while Helen was cuffed and led away screaming and struggling.

  A tight band loosened around Max’s chest as he watched the woman he swore he’d kill the next time he saw her. But she’d saved his son. Kevin! Max pushed up with his crutches and headed to the elevator to see his boy for the first time in almost a year. When the elevator stopped, he moved toward the ER. Hospital staff and police officers moved with purpose to get the hospital back in the business of helping the sick.

  A doctor and nurse were in Kevin’s room when Max stepped inside. The nurse looked at him with a raised brow.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, while the doctor continued to read the chart and made notes.

  “That’s my son,” Max said, pointing at the small body on the bed with tubes running everywhere. He couldn’t take his eyes from the bed. It hurt to breathe. His stomach clenched as he continued to look at his boy.

  “Your son?” the nurse frowned.

  The hospital administrator walked in and waved the doctor and nurse out of the room. “Go ahead Mr. Delgado, take your time.”

  “His temperature is down, almost to a hundred, he’s responding to the medication. We’ll know more when we get the lab work back and he wakes up,” the doctor said before he left.

  Max stared at Kevin, unable to believe his search was over. He took a few more steps and gazed into his son’s face. He’d lost weight, his hair needed a trim, and yet he never looked so good. Max pulled the chair close to the bed, placed his crutches on the floor and leaned onto the back of the chair for support. Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on his son’s cheek, then his forehead. He took the small hand and held it in his much larger one, and stared into the face he had wondered if he’d ever see again.

  “I love you, Chipmunk. Daddy loves you so much. I missed you every day you were gone. When you’re feeling better, daddy’s going to take you home.” He placed another kiss on the back of the small hand and refused to wipe the tears of gratitude and joy that ran down his face.

  Hooyah! He had his boy. He found his son. His heart slammed into his chest so hard his head spun. Careful of the IV and other monitors, Max dropped into the chair while still holding Kevin’s hand. The way he felt right now, he’d never let it go.

  “Thank you, God, thank you,” he murmured as he watched his son’s chest rise and fall. Max heard a sound and turned. Tamara stood near the door, watching.

  He extended his hand. Wiping the tears from her face, she walked over and took his other hand. “This is my son, Kevin.”

  “I’m so happy you found him.” She placed a kiss on his cheek. He covered her hand on his shoulder and stared at the small boy on the bed.

  “I’ve dreamed of this day,” Max said. “This isn’t the way I expected but, the end result is the same.”

  “That’s all that matters.”

  Max agreed. “He’s going to be alright.” He looked up at Tamara who stared at Kevin. “Right? My son’s going to be alright?” She looked down into his eyes and smiled. Cupping his cheeks with her palms, she kissed the tip of his nose.

  “He’s strong and tough like his old man. Kevin will beat this and be just fine.”

  Max exhaled and nodded. He needed to hear those words from someone he trusted. Kevin would wake soon, and recover over time, they’d go home and things would be fine.

  An hour later, Brock, Skinny and Jace entered the room, saw Kevin and yelled. “Hooyah!

  Max raised his fist. “Hooyah!”

  “Daddy?” Kevin said, blinking at Max.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Tamara sat at her desk looking over contracts. After reading the same sentence three times and not remembering what she’d read, she replaced the documents into their folder. She glanced at her watch, three hours until they closed for the day, but she wouldn’t make it. Ten days. Ten days since Max walked out of the hospital amidst cheers and well wishes from his team, cops, and hospital staff. Kevin had clung to Max every day while in the hospital, making up for lost time.

  When he forgot to call and didn’t respond to her texts, she didn’t give him a hard time. Kevin’s recovery would take weeks and Max didn’t want to leave his son’s care to anyone else. That was noble and something she applauded and understood.

  Funny thing about understanding, it didn’t
stop the ache of missing him. Or push away the loneliness of sleeping alone. Or stop her thoughts from jumping to conclusions she wished she could label ridiculous, and would if he’d just call and say hi. A simple thing really. All she wanted was to hear his voice, to know he still cared, that in spite of how topsy-turvy his world had become, she mattered. After the first few days of leaving the hospital their conversations dwindled to nothing. Not even a text.

  “I’m going to get lunch, can I get you anything? A sandwich? Something to drink? A pair of balls?” Gayle asked, standing in the doorway.

  Distracted by her thoughts, Tamara thought it was a new sandwich at the deli. “Balls?”

  “Since you won’t grow a pair and talk to that man, I thought I’d buy a pair.”

  Tamara groaned. She didn’t want to get into this again. “He’s busy with Kevin. I don’t want to disturb them.” As many times as she gave this excuse, it still sounded lame.

  “I get that. But no one’s too busy to call and say hi or ask how you’re doing or check to make sure you’re okay. Especially when that person nursed your ass back to health.”

  Tamara glanced at Gayle, noticed she was getting worked up and released a sigh. “You’re right. I was just thinking about that. I’ll… I’ll deal with it.”

  “Yeah, sure. When? When Kevin’s graduating from college?”

  That stung. “Stop pushing. I said I’d deal with my relationship and I will. But I’ll handle it my way, Gayle. We can talk and kid around in here, but it stays in here and you don’t take it anywhere else, got that?”

  For a moment Tamara wasn’t sure Gayle would agree. “You know I won’t do anything, it just makes me so mad. I thought he was different. He acted like… I thought he was the one.”

  Silently Tamara agreed. “He may be, but he needs this time to reconnect with his son and I’m giving it to him. If we don’t work out, that’s the way life happens.” She shrugged when she wanted to cry at the idea he wouldn’t be in her life.

  “You’re a better woman than me. I’d be blowing up his phone wanting answers. Hat’s off to you, Tamara, you’re a classy woman, and if he messes this up he deserves all the Carin’s in the world. Because he’s not ready or equipped to handle a good woman.”