After It's Over Page 6

  Why’d I quit chewing tobacco?

  “Yes, I believe I do require medical attention. Could you send an officer, please? Preferably a young one who doesn’t want to lose his job. I can’t afford even a word of gossip.”

  “I’ll come get you. Where are you?”

  “We spent the night in the Grande Inn downtown.”

  “Meet me in the parking garage on the south side.” Kade looked around. He was at least a mile from his truck.

  “Splendid. How long do you think it will take you?”

  Marie spoke as if they were making casual arrangements to see a movie, but Kade could hear that her breath was uneven and slightly ragged.

  Did he crack a rib this time? If she would just leave!

  “I can be there in twenty.” Or fifteen if I run every red light.

  “Very well. See you soon.”

  Even battered, Marie was determined to maintain an appearance of normality. Kade shook his head. It had only been four weeks since she’d been found sprawled face down in Wright’s Park on a patch of wet grass. She had been nude except for the expensive tailored coat draped over her body. Covered in bruises from head to toe, her nose was still bleeding when she was discovered by a jogger. Marie couldn’t say who had attacked her; she said she couldn’t remember.

  The city’s public relations department went into overdrive when they realized the wife of their millionaire mayor had been assaulted. They launched a social media campaign announcing that she had been mugged and the Tacoma police force wouldn’t rest until the culprit had been caught. While technically the crime fell under the jurisdiction of the police, the chief felt that calling in the Sheriff’s office was the only way to show the investigation was above board. Kade wasn’t stupid. The chief wanted to cover his own derriere by handing off responsibility for solving the crime. He was reluctant to get involved because of the political implications, but he couldn’t very well say no. That wouldn’t have helped his career at all.

  Marie’s hospital room had been a circus of cops, media consultants, and mayoral staff. Kade had stood in the corner, observing who came and went. He noted the way she flinched when her husband arrived at the hospital and took his place at her bedside. He had to give her credit—Marie put on a good show, playing the dutiful politician’s wife. She served faithfully in multiple philanthropic organizations and appeared at all of her husband’s public events. Her devotion to him was strong, but not as strong Marie’s favorite drink—Long Island iced tea. Kade arranged to meet her at a bar outside the city one night. After two drinks, her facade crumbled.

  Marie confirmed what Kade had suspected from the first moment in the hospital—the mayor was beating and raping his wife on a regular basis. Her voice had been soft as she detailed five year’s worth of horror, torment, and brutality. She shed exactly one tear when she got to the beating that had led to her being found in the park. Marie said it didn’t seem to matter what she did or how hard she tried to please him, her husband beat her anyway. Kade had listened as objectively as he could, though he wanted to find the mayor and do things to the man that would earn him a life sentence in prison.

  Kade had been careful not to show his anger to Marie. He sensed that civility was something she needed to survive. She’d requested that he not document their conversations, but he always did. He memorized the dates and wrote down every single detail as soon as he left her. Marie wanted her husband sent to rehab; she was sure he’d be a changed man if only he were sober, but Kade knew that was a lie.

  Once a wife-beating monster, always a monster. I bet he’s got a record.

  The Internet was the key to uncovering the mayor’s past. After several hours of painstaking research that made his head hurt, Kade discovered the man running the city had been born with a different name. Contrary to his campaign slogan, the mayor did not grow up in Tacoma, Washington. Cross-checking against his old name, Kade found a string of domestic assault charges. This information proved his theory about the mayor being a monster, but it did nothing to help his case. As long as Marie refused to testify against her husband, Kade had one choice—find evidence of the mayor committing another crime.

  Most cops would have given up, probably washed their hands of the whole mess, but Kade was determined. One way or another, without Marie’s help, he was going to put her husband behind bars or in the ground. Some days, he was just fine with the latter.

  ***

  The parking garage was empty save the woman in dark sunglasses, scarf, and hooded raincoat. She was huddled in a corner near a set of stairs; a streak of dry blood ran down her bare leg. She couldn’t physically clean herself. Kade put his truck in park and hopped out to help her in. The truck was tough to get into even for an uninjured person.

  “Hello, ma’am.”

  “Hello, Sheriff.” Marie’s voice was horse.

  Without lifting her glasses, she wiped her eyes.

  “Please call me Kade.”

  She doesn’t want me to see the damage.

  “Very well,” Marie replied.

  Kade was a calm, rational guy that was often accused of being emotionless. He showed the world a stoic exterior, while deep down he felt everything. As he carefully boosted Marie into the truck and shut the door, he felt a rage that made his hands shake and his vision blur. Slowly, he walked around to the driver’s door. With each step, he focused on the fact that it would take patience to gather enough evidence to throw the mayor in jail. He inhaled and exhaled; the burning desire to storm the mayor’s waterfront condo receded. He had the patience to build a case, but did Marie have the time?

  This is one of the worst cases I’ve ever seen. How long until he kills her in a drunken rage? Career or no career, men like this can’t help themselves. The mayor isn’t the first powerful man to behave this way, but I’d give anything to make sure he’s the last.

  Kade climbed into the cab of the truck and slammed the door shut. Marie rested her head against the passenger window, her hands lay folded in her lap. She was asleep before he pulled out of the parking garage. The silence gave Kade an opportunity to reflect on the feeling of déjà vu that had haunted him since the day they met. Marie reminded him of another woman, one whose death had inspired him to give up his dream of being a doctor and become a cop instead.

  I can’t think about Paige’s mother without thinking about the day she died.

  ***

  After Paige’s initial examination in the emergency room, a surgeon had been called. They gave her pain medication and sent Kade into the hall where the surgeon said it would take at least an hour to repair the internal damage caused by the ectopic pregnancy. They’d have to remove a fallopian tube and possibly more of her reproductive organs. The sympathetic doctor explained that the odds of Paige ever conceiving again were significantly diminished. Kade was grateful his girlfriend didn’t hear this last piece of information. There was no reason for her to hear the devastating news before surgery.

  Kade came back into Paige’s exam room to offer moral support as she called her mother. He listened as she explained to Mrs. Birch that the pregnancy wasn’t viable, and the surgeons would have to operate. Her mother had been upset, but reasonable. At some point, Mr. Birch had arrived home. Paige motioned for Kade to listen in. Her father demanded her mother give him the phone. Mrs. Birch yelled back, refusing to hand it over. There was some ruckus and it sounded as if the phone had been dropped. A momentary silence followed, then came the sickening pop! pop!.

  Kade knew that was the sound of a gun being fired. There were no screams on the other end of the phone—just dead air. Paige, recognizing the sound too, became hysterical. Grabbing him, she begged him to take her home. But he couldn’t. She needed surgery. He stood frozen as the medical staff of Tacoma General Hospital wheeled Paige out of the ER and into the hallway. She was inconsolable and screamed that her father had shot her mother. He would learn later on that was an erroneous assumption on her part. The sound of gunshots echoed in his ears as Paige di
sappeared from view.

  “Can I show you to the waiting area?” a small female voice asked.

  Kade turned at the question and found himself face-to-face with a young candy striper. He shook his head.

  “Are you alright?” she asked. She reached for his arm, but he turned and ran away.

  I have to get out of here. Our baby’s gone. I wanted it to be a boy. I was going to teach him how to throw a baseball and cheer him on at every Little League game.

  Kade ran all the way to the parking lot, jumped in his truck, and took off. Grief-stricken and angry, he made his way to some unused back roads. Racing through the dirt and gravel, he sobbed and pounded his fist on the dashboard. He cried out to a God that he didn’t know, demanding answers for the tragedy that had befallen them. Eventually, he wiped his tears and drove to Paige’s house. Kade couldn’t go back to the hospital without answers about her parents.

  Thoughts of his loss ended abruptly when he saw his girlfriend’s house. The scene was organized chaos—several police cars were parked out front; their lights flashed as a coroner’s van pulled into the driveway. The area in front of the house was roped off with yellow tape; police officers questioned neighbors on the crowded sidewalk. Kade jumped out of the truck and ran through the bedlam to reach the house. A uniformed cop grabbed him as he stepped inside.

  “You can’t go in there. This is a crime scene,” the cop said. He pushed Kade backward onto the front porch.

  “Geez, what a mess,” said the solemn-looking woman who approached them. She carried a leather satchel and wore a black jacket that read Medical Examiner. “How many bodies are there?”

  The young cop looked at Kade who’d dropped to his knees, his face contorted in anguish.

  “There are two bodies,” the cop said quickly. He reached out to Kade. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”

  Kade pushed him away; his legs were weak to stand.

  “Is he the son?” the medical examiner asked.

  “I don’t know. Is this your family? Do you live here?” The cop squatted down to his eye level.

  The medical examiner didn’t wait for his response; she entered the house.

  Kade shook his head, trying to find his voice.

  “This is my girlfriend’s house. She’s in the hospital. She lost our baby and now, her parents are dead. Is that right?” He looked imploring at the officer.

  Please say I’m wrong. Please!

  “I’m sorry, kid. It’s a real bad scene.”

  “Deputy, we need you to block off the street,” a portly detective barked from the doorway. “The deceased male is one of our own. As soon as the press gets wind of this mess, it’s going to be a three-ring circus. Only blue gets past the barricades. Got it?”

  “Okay, detective,” the cop replied. He shot Kade an uncertain look and walked away.

  The overweight detective, dressed in a stained suit, stepped outside. He paused to spit tobacco juice into a flowerbed. The black slime landed on the head of a white daisy. The detective grunted at Kade, turned, and went back into the house.

  Mrs. Birch would be so upset. She loved her flowers almost as much as her kids. How can she be gone? What happened? I have to get inside.

  With the deputy’s departure, the front door was left unattended. Kade was careful not to draw attention to himself as he slipped inside. He bumped into another cop who hurried past him. She carried a clipboard and spoke into her radio. She shot Kade a look of annoyance as he collided with her, but said nothing. He walked into the front room adjacent to the entryway.

  The room looked normal; there was nothing out of place. An open bottle of Scotch sat next to the leather recliner where Paige’s father sat every night after work. The bottle was nearly empty.

  Mrs. Birch hated an untidy house. Should I throw it away? No, it’s a crime scene.

  The sound of tense voices down the hall caught his attention. Kade walked lightly on the white carpet dotted with tiny specks of red. He reached the end of the hall and pressed himself against a wall.

  “Did you know he was beating his wife?” a male voice said.

  He peered around the corner; two detectives stood outside Paige’s parents’ bedroom.

  The shorter of the two men, rubbed his forehead and nodded his head. “Everyone knew he beat her, but he was up for chief of police so no one said a word.”

  “I hear he flunked the psych exam and shouldn’t have been a cop in the first place.”

  “I heard that too. I talked to the wife once. She went to the Sergeant for help, and he told her to go to marriage counseling. I told her to forget that and get the hell out. The only thing to do with a man like that is run and don’t look back.”

  “He was a bastard for sure. Looks like the wife settled things in the end though. Who’s going to tell the kids?”

  “Dunno. Not me. I don’t want to be the one to tell them their mom snapped, killed their dad, and then ate a bullet. That job goes to the chaplain or maybe their priest.”

  Kade turned and ran as fast as he could out of the house. When he was safely in his truck, he reviewed what he’d just heard.

  None of this would have happened if someone had stopped Mr. Birch. If just one cop had held him responsible, then maybe they’d be alive. I would have held him responsible. I could be the kind of cop that stops stuff like this from happening altogether.

  ***

  Kade gave Marie a sideway glance; she was still asleep. Every couple of minutes she would mutter something he couldn’t understand and toss a little in her seat. He pondered her situation and how similar it was to Paige’s. Kade had asked Paige once why her mother didn’t leave. She said the reason was simple—no matter how bad things got, her mother didn’t believe in divorce. Mrs. Birch also insisted on keeping up the appearance of a normal family and forbade her children from talking about what went on at home. Mrs. Birch prided herself on being dignified and classy.

  If she’d lived, she would have told me to go to med school and stay out of the sewer that is police work. Maybe I should have listened.

  Marie reminded him of Mrs. Birch. They were both fragile and strong, classy and full of grace. They were also both stubborn beyond the telling of it. Frustrated, Kade pulled up outside the doctor’s office and slammed the gearshift into park. He gently touched Marie’s arm. She stirred and sat up.

  “Are we here?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Will you help me out?”

  Kade nodded and reached for his door handle; he paused and looked intently at her.

  “If you want to leave him, I’ll help you.”

  Marie pursed her lips together and straightened her clothes. “Where would I go? My life is here. My friends and my home are here.”

  “It doesn’t matter where. It only matters that you’ll be alive…and free.”

  “Free? What’s that? I’ve lived in a gilded cage for so long I can’t imagine what it is to fly free.” Marie’s voice was wistful as she looked out the window. “Thank you, Kade, but I believe I will see this through.”

  He was silent as he helped her from the truck and took her inside. Marie didn’t look back as they led her into an exam room. He left her there. Marie would have to find her own way home.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ben fiddled with his phone. Paige hadn’t returned any of his texts, and he’d sent at least ten. It was funny how he never missed her until he was unable to reach her. His phone buzzed in his hand. He grunted and silenced the sound.

  It’s another message from Beth. She’s practically stalking me lately.

  Ben and Beth worked together in the 419th squadron on Hill Air Force Base. They’d known each other for years, and he’d been dating her exclusively when he’d been sent to McCord Air Force base in Washington State for a two-week training course a little more than a year ago. Ben had never been faithful to any woman and, as cute as Beth was, their relationship didn’t stop him from hitting the bar after class one night.

  I
f I hadn’t gone to that bar, I never would have met Paige. Things were so much better in the beginning.

  ***

  Ben hated training. He sat in a tiny desk for eight hours while the instructor droned on about some slight change in procedure that had little bearing on his job. Slamming his head into a brick wall would have been more fun than that class. When his fellow trainees suggested they hit a sports bar near the base, he jumped at the chance to blow off some steam and find some local eye candy.

  The place had been packed; there was one table in the corner with available chairs. Ben ordered a beer and studied the hot girl sitting at it. She gently pushed a glass of wine around the table in tiny circles. From the way she sipped it, she clearly wasn’t there to get drunk.

  Fancy dress, pretty hair, and she keeps glancing at her watch. She’s here to meet someone.

  The bar was full of women in short skirts and over-sprayed hair. A few came up to him and offered to buy him a drink; he steered them towards his buddies. In the mood for a challenge, Ben fixated on the woman in the corner because he instinctively knew she was different. While Beth was cute and bubbly, this woman looked serious and intense. He imagined she was smart and capable; someone who could pay her own bills and didn’t need him to be the hero like so many other women did.

  Thirty minutes passed before the woman seemed to give up on whomever she was waiting for. She stood up with her purse in hand to leave. Ben knew if he didn’t act fast, he’d probably never see her again. He quickly made his way toward her and was surprised to find his hands were sweaty.

  That’s weird. I can’t remember the last time a woman made me nervous. Well, here goes nothing.

  “You know he’s crazy, right?” Ben said.

  “Excuse me?” she replied, eyeing him warily.

  “Whoever stood you up—he’s crazy.”

  “Um, thanks?” Her voice was filled with uncertainty. She smiled politely and moved to walk away.

  Ben was surprised by her reaction. Most women found him attractive and engaging.