Authors: Joseph Lewis
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Retail, #Thriller
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Northern Suburb of Indianapolis, Indiana
Dominico read the text and was pleased. Now all they had to do was to concentrate on getting even and then begin again.
Of course
he
knew why getting even was so important.
They
had done this to
him
!
Him
!
He felt the anger boil up in him again and let it surge through his brain, his veins, his muscles and his being.
He tapped in a message to the five others:
Get them all. Dispose of the boys and their families. We will begin again. Need three to take care of the Indian kid, the Evans kid and his father and anyone else with them or anyone who gets in the way. Who’s up for it?
He didn’t have to wait very long before three stepped forward. They knew where to go, but not necessarily who they were looking for. Dominico sent an email with two photos: a head and shoulders shot of George and then a picture of Jeremy and the twins.
The text response was quickly returned:
Got it!
Dominico smiled. He had a couple of others he wanted to deal with on a very personal level. One at his mother’s house and the other would be back in town later today or early this evening. He might even do the kids in front of his dimwitted sister and her idiot husband. Let them all know who was in charge. He had something to prove to them all.
He
was the one in charge now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Chicago, Illinois
Billy had helped George get out of bed by picking up his legs and placing his feet on the floor and then he helped him get dressed. He led him to the conference room on the first floor where Pete and Jeremy heard him go through his story twice. Pete took notes, while Jeremy listened.
“How did you know, George?” Kelliher asked, puzzled with it all.
George shook his head, shrugged and said, “I heard my grandfather, and when we walked into the hospital, I saw them.”
“Them . . .” Pete said.
George nodded.
“That man . . . Cochrane, Tim and my grandfather.”
Neither Pete nor Jeremy doubted him. They didn’t understand it, but they didn’t doubt him.
George cleared his throat, and Jeremy looked at him and said, “What?”
“There is one more thing you should know,” George said, staring first at Jeremy, then at Pete. “Last night, I had a dream.”
Besides George’s ability to see and talk to his deceased grandfather, both Jeremy and Pete put stock in George’s dreams. His dreams hadn’t failed him, or them, in the past.
“What was it about?” Jeremy asked.
George frowned, looked down at the varnished table and then back at Jeremy.
“It was short and unclear, but there was a man with a gun. I never saw him before. He had the gun pointed at a boy. The boy was shorter than me with dark hair . . . brown, I think. The three of us . . . you were on his left, and I was on his right . . . stood in front of a door. I didn’t know the room or the house we were in, but the man with gun was going to shoot the boy to get someone.” He looked at both men expecting a question. When he didn’t get one, he added, “I am certain he was after someone in particular.”
Both men stared at him. Jeremy’s brow was furrowed. Kelliher’s lips were pursed. George waited patiently.
Finally Jeremy said, “Either this is just a bad dream . . .”
“. . . or one of George’s warnings,” Kelliher finished for him not taking his eyes off George. Then he said, “Do you think you can recognize the boy or the man if you saw them again?”
George thought about that. First of all, the dream seemed like a lifetime ago, and secondly, he didn’t see either of them very clearly. Mostly just the height, weight and body build more than anything else. Not much more than that.
But to be helpful, George said, “I can try.”
Pete speed-dialed Chet Walker, put him on speaker and without any introduction said, “Where are you?”
Walker answered, “About to land in Indianapolis. Why?”
“Send me the pictures of the men in the wind.” Presuming he could but not waiting for confirmation he added, “Send them in an email as soon as you can.”
“Coming your way in less than five,” Chet said. “Is Skip on the way yet?”
Kelliher checked his watch and said, “Should be there by now.”
“Okay, when we hook up, we’ll be in contact.”
Pete said quietly, but firmly, “Chet, you and Skip need to watch your backs. This one’s dangerous.”
“Aren’t they all?” Chet said with a laugh.
Kelliher, not at all amused said, “No, not like this. Take this seriously and both you and Skip watch your ass! I’m
serious
!”
Chet was all business when he said, “Got it. You should have your email any second.”
Kelliher booted up his laptop, opened his email and opened the jpg file that was attached and then spun it around so the three of them could look at the pictures together.
“I have it. Can you also send me pictures of each of the boys who were rescued?”
“Coming your way in five.”
“Thanks, Chet.”
“Holler if you need anything else.”
Pete clicked his cell off and began the slide show.
“George, these are pictures of some men we can’t locate. I want you to look at them carefully and see if one of them was the man in your dream.”
George took his time as Pete suggested, pausing it here and there and asking about heights and weights. He stunned both men when he asked about their familiarity with guns.
“Why? What do you mean by that?” Pete asked.
George became flustered.
He hesitated and then said, “The man did not seem like he had used a gun before, but he was confident. His voice was cold.”
“What did he say?” Jeremy asked.
George shook his head and said, “I do not think he
said
anything. It was a feeling.”
Both men frowned at him and in the end, there were two that were close, and Pete noted them.
“The first man you picked is Detective Anthony Dominico. He’s responsible for Brett’s abduction, and we believe he murdered his partner earlier today.”
“He’s Brett’s uncle,” Jeremy added. “Have you met Brett yet?”
“Maybe, but I wasn’t very awake.” He shook his head. “Tim said he and Brett are best friends.”
Jeremy nodded, “They’re very close. Brett is also very close to another, younger boy, Patrick.”
“The second man you picked out is Detective Mark Fox,” Pete said. “He’s responsible for the abduction of Patrick Wright . . . Brett’s friend. The man was one of Patrick’s soccer coaches. The problem is that Fox is much shorter than Dominico.”
He paused, flicked the computer back and forth between the two men, so George could have more looks at the two of them. In the end, George shrugged unwilling to pick one over the other, because either man could be the guy in the dream or neither man could be the guy in the dream. He couldn’t tell.
“The other problem is that both men are familiar with guns, handguns in particular.”
“Does either of the men have blue eyes?”
Jeremy and Pete glanced at each other, and Pete said, “Why?”
“The man in my dream had bright blue eyes. Strange eyes.”
“Both of these men have brown eyes, I think, but I’ll check to be certain,” Pete said, jotting a note in his little notebook.
George shrugged, disappointed he wasn’t much help.
Next, Kelliher opened the other email and showed him the pictures of thirty boys. One by one George looked at them. There were four who could have been the boy in the dream, but he wasn’t sure.
“Patrick and Brett are the closest, but I do not think it was either one. The other two . . . Cole and Eric, are close, but if I had to pick one . . .” He shook his head. “Probably Patrick. Maybe Brett . . . I do not know for certain.”
Kelliher frowned, shrugged at Jeremy and said, “Both are going to be watched closely anyway, so I’m not sure how this helps.” Then to George he said, “If you have any other dreams, tell Jeremy right away, but call me as soon as you can.”
George nodded and then said, “May I ask some questions?”
Pete nodded and Jeremy said, “Sure.”
“Why did the policeman kick me?”
Of all the questions he could have asked, even the ones they thought he was going to ask, he asked one that they never expected, and one that neither Pete nor Jeremy had an answer for. They looked at each other, and Jeremy shook his head and Pete shrugged disgustedly.
“George, I don’t have a good answer for you. Actually, none . . . just that some people are assholes . . . ‘scuse my language,” Pete said.
Jeremy said, “I think he saw a kid with long hair and a gun and sometimes that freaks cops out. Then, the cop finds out an FBI agent’s involved . . .” Jeremy shrugged. “I’m not excusing it because it isn’t right.”
“Tim said there are men after me.”
Jeremy nodded and said, “That’s what we believe. However, we think you’re safe for now because you’ll be traveling across the country. Only Jeff and I know the route we’ll be taking. Pete won’t even know until I call him with an update.”
“A bigger concern is what happens when you get to Arizona,” Pete added. “We’re going to coordinate with your cousin, Leonard, when you get closer. We’re not sure who we can involve other than your cousin at this point, because . . . well, frankly . . . we don’t know who we can trust in or out of the agency. That includes the Tribal Police, other than your cousin.”
“But Pete and I’ve been talking, and we think we have a plan,” Jeremy added.
George frowned. He was putting Jeremy and the twins and Jeff and Danny in danger. He didn’t like the potential of being responsible for their deaths.
He didn’t like that at all.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Chicago, Illinois
They met in the sun room, a large room at the end of the hall that had more windows than any of the other rooms on the floor and that overlooked a lawn with benches and walkways. It served as a gathering place for recovering patients and their families, sometimes just to visit, sometimes to eat a meal, sometimes just for the patients themselves to sit and relax and get out of their rooms for a moment or two.
The boys had been meeting there since they had been admitted and usually sat in the comfortable chairs and a couch near the windows. Tim and Brett had gravitated towards windows because they had been without them for two years and at times, the two stood and stared out at the Chicago landscape, the sun or the clouds without a spoken word between them. As long as the two boys were together and near the windows, silence didn’t matter.
George walked in trailing Pete and Jeremy, and he didn’t get more than two steps inside the door when Billy appeared on one side and Danny on the other. He saw Randy talking with a small group of adults towards the center of the room, while Jeremy and Pete approached a few others.
As George was noticed by the parents, they stepped forward in groups of two or so, and when they did, Billy and Danny, who were uncomfortable to begin with because they didn’t really know anyone, drifted away to a corner and sat at a table with Jeff.
Humble by nature, George nonetheless accepted each thank you, each hug and each kiss given to him by the parents. The most emotional were Thad and Laura Pruitt.
Thad took hold of George’s hand in both of his and didn’t let go.
He said, “George, I can’t thank you enough for saving our son. We’re . . .” looking at his wife and then back at George, “forever in your debt.”
“We hope you stay in touch with Tim,” Laura added.
It was similar sentiments from each of the parents with the exception of Ted Bailey. There was an unfriendly, cold attitude about him, and George didn’t care for him.
After the parents, it was the boys’ turn.
Stephen stood before him after saying thank you to Randy and said, “Billy said you might live with him and Randy and Jeremy.”
George blushed and smiled tentatively, but was noncommittal.
Stephen nodded at Mike and said, “We hope so. That way we’ll get to see you every now and then.”
They shook hands, rather formally and awkwardly, but in a friendly manner.
Mike stepped forward and George smiled and reached out to shake his hand, but was wrapped in a gentle embrace instead.
Mike made sure Stephen couldn’t hear when he whispered, “I’m w-worried about Stephen and T-Tim.”
Then he clung a bit tighter, a little bit longer and then let go. George had heard that Mike had developed a stutter, and was pleased that it seemed to be going away. Yet, he didn’t respond other than to grasp Mike’s shoulders and nod.
Stephen said, “I hope we see you again.”
George nodded, wondering what it was that Mike might be worried about, but he made a mental note to figure it out.
Brett stepped forward tentatively with almost a shyness about him, however George wasn’t fooled. There was strength and toughness and sensitivity that he was drawn to. They didn’t say anything right away, but just smiled at each other. It was George who spoke first.
“You remind me of my brother, William.”
“Yeah? How’s that?” Brett asked with a laugh, wondering how that was possible.
George laughed softly, shook his head and said, “I don’t know. You just do,” and he laughed again.
“Whatever,” Brett said with a laugh and then said, “You saved Tim’s life. He’s my best friend.”
“I know.”
“I’d like us to be friends . . . you know . . . if you wanna.”
George reached out and hugged Brett who hugged back as best he could with his good arm.
“I’d like that,” George said.
“Thank you,” Brett said choking up and then he added, “Thanks for saving Tim.”
George nodded, swallowing to get the lump out of his throat.
“Will I see you again?” Brett asked.
Not knowing why, George nodded and said, “Yes, I think so.”
Brett nodded and said, “I hope so.”
He turned to leave, brushed tears from his eyes, but turned back and smiled, giving George a little wave, who smiled, nodded and waved back.
George shoved his hands in his pockets, looked around, smiled at a couple of the parents and searched for Tim. He found him standing at one of the windows with his back to the room. As he neared him, George saw that Tim had his eyes shut so he stood silently next to him.
Down below in the grassy area, there were patients in robes walking slowly in the courtyard. One or two sat on benches in the grassy area. Others not in robes walked slowly back and forth with those who wore robes, and George supposed they were family members of patients who needed fresh air.
“Your grandfather said I was thinking about giving up,” Tim said finally opening his eyes but not turning to face George.
George didn’t say anything.
“He was right,” Tim said quietly. “I still think about it. I think about Johnny, Stephen’s dad, all the other guys we watched get taken away in handcuffs.” He paused and said, “There were so many. All the shit that they did to us.” He shook his head. George was about to tell him that he couldn’t, when Tim said, “I won’t.”
George nodded.
“I’d miss Brett, and I know it sounds gay, but I love him.”
George understood immediately what Tim had meant.
“I know I’d miss Stephen and Mike . . . especially Mike . . . maybe one or two of the other guys, but I’d really miss Brett.” He waited a couple of beats and then said, “And you.”
George glanced at him, smiled and said, “I feel the same.”
“Why did your grandfather . . . ?”
George knew what he was asking.
He shook his head and said, “I do not know.”
Tears welled up in George’s eyes. He didn’t know where they had come from or why. His grandfather was-
is
and always will be special to him, and for him to come to Tim meant something important, and George knew there had to be a reason.
George knew that Tim and Brett, even Stephen and Mike, had become important to him. Jeremy, Billy and Randy had become his family in many ways. There was the death of his family and wrestling with whether or not to live with Jeremy and the twins or live back home. He had never felt this much at one time. It was too much.
“I’m glad he did,” Tim said quietly, brushing some tears from his eyes.
“Me too,” George answered, also wiping away some tears. “Me too,” he repeated quietly.
“I won’t give up, George.”
“I know. You are stronger than you think.”
Tim looked over at George, squinted at him, and then said, “Can we be friends?”
“I would like that very much.”
The two boys embraced and held onto each other.
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You do not have to.”
“I love you, George. Thank you.”
“Friends,” George said, gripping Tim a bit harder.
“Friends,” Tim answered, kissing George’s cheek.
They broke away, wiped tears from their faces and laughed at themselves and with arms slung around each other’s shoulders joined the large group and said their final goodbyes.
Tim motioned for Brett to join him and then called to Stephen and Mike. George and Randy followed, though they stood a step out of their circle, not sure if they should be included. Jeff, Danny and Billy stayed well back, but watched intently, while Jeremy and Pete went off to the side and spoke quietly.
At first, Stephen and Mike stood facing Tim and Brett, and the six of them didn’t say anything, knowing that in minutes they’d be leaving for home, not sure when, or if, they’d be together again.
Finally Tim smiled and said, “Stephen, you and Mike have to be careful. Like Randy and Jeremy said, you need to make a list.”
“We’ve started, but we can’t think of anyone who would do that to me,” Stephen answered.
Brett shook his head and said, “That means you have to keep your eyes open. You have to watch each other’s backs.”
“Brett’s right,” Tim added quietly. “Stephen, you’ve got to be careful.” He looked at Mike and said, “As much as you can, stick together.”
“Jeremy said Detective Graff is arranging protection,” Mike said.
Stephen clarified, “He’s going to have a couple of undercover cops watching me . . . us, until they figure out who the pervert is.”
“That’s good, but they can’t be with you twenty-four seven,” Tim said, “So you’ll need to be there for each other, okay?”
Mike looked at the floor, frowning.
“What?” Tim asked.
Mike jammed his hands into his front pockets.
Tim reached out and placed his hand on Mike’s shoulder and said again, “What?”
“I’m . . . p-pissed. This sh-shouldn’t have h-happened to us. N-None of it. N-Now we have to w-watch wherever we g-go, who we t-talk to, m-make a s-stupid list. I’m p-pissed.”
“Watching out, being careful and making a list makes sense. And, I think we’re all pissed off,” Brett said.
Tim and Stephen nodded in agreement.
Tim turned to Randy and asked, “How did you get over it, you know . . . being pissed off at what was done to you?”
“And the flippin’ perverts?” Brett added.
“Flippin’?” Tim said with a laugh.
“Thought I’d work on my vocabulary,” Brett said with a laugh.
Randy smiled sadly and said, “Billy, Dad and I went to see the Bat Man movie,
Dark Knight
. There’s a scene where this cop, Blake, talks to Bruce Wayne. Blake said that when his parents were killed and he was put in a foster home, he learned too late to smile and laugh and act like a normal kid, so the foster parents gave up on him, and he ended up in an orphanage.”
He paused and said, “He said the smile became his mask . . . like Bat Man’s mask.”
The four boys already understood where he was going.
“I was so angry . . . so afraid. I didn’t treat my dad very well the first days, even weeks. I didn’t trust him,” Randy glanced over his shoulder at Jeremy who was listening intently to Pete. “Eventually, I started to smile and laugh like other kids. I know I’m not afraid, but it’s been over two years, and I’m still pissed off. So I guess, you could say I wear a mask too.”
George had never heard Randy talk like that. He had noticed that Billy had a crooked smile. Randy’s smile was sad, and even though he smiled, it never touched his eyes.
“It won’t do you any good to be pissed off. No one will understand anyway,” Randy added. “So, wear a mask like me and all the other kids this has happened to. Eventually . . . well,” he stopped and shrugged. “Like I said, no one understands anyway.”
“Except us,” Tim said.
Stephen looked from Tim, to Randy, to Brett and to George and said, “Can we talk every now and then? I mean, like if we have questions or something? Or maybe just talk?”
“Boys, we have to get going,” Ted Bailey said impatiently.
Sarah said, “Ted, leave. Stephen and I’ll get a ride with Jennifer and Mark.”
He didn’t leave, but it did shut him up.
Ignoring Stephen’s dad, Tim said, “Of course. Brett and I don’t have cell phones yet, but we gave you our home phone numbers, and we have yours. When we do get cells, we’ll make sure you get the number.”
“You can call me or Tim anytime, day or night,” Brett added. “Chances are we won’t be able to sleep much anyway.”
“You have George’s and my numbers, right?” Randy asked.
Stephen and Mike nodded.
Stephen added, “And Danny’s and Billy’s too.”
Quietly, Brett said, “Stephen, every now and then check Mike’s butt just to make sure he’s healing.” Then to Mike he said, “Sometimes you wipe too hard and that one stitch bleeds.”
Mike blushed and said, “I s-sort of f-forget.”
“I will,” Stephen said nodding.
“And Mike, you have to work on your stuttering. You’re sounding better, but keep working on it, okay?” Brett said.
Mike blushed and nodded.
“I’m going to miss you two,” Tim said. He embraced first Stephen and then Mike. “I’m really going to miss you guys.”
Stephen and Mike and their families left, leaving Tim, Brett, Randy and George in the center of the room. For the longest time, Tim and Brett stared at each other, not saying anything. First Randy, then George looked away because it was too painful to watch.
Tim broke eye contact first and said to Randy, “You’ll stay in touch?”
They embraced in a long hug and Randy said, “Absolutely.”