Dead Red (33 page)

“He was unconscious?”

“He was when we found him, so I’m glad you called when you did.” I heard the trooper say something to someone else, and then he said to me, “Sir, it sounds like you’re on speaker phone in a car. Are you driving here, Mr. Donne?”

I chose my next words very carefully. “I’m concerned about Robby Torres, Officer. He’s a friend. I want to tell his mother I saw her son in person and hopefully give her a good report.”

“Whereabouts are you, Mr. Donne?”

“Let me see. Hold on.” I needed to think about this and work backward. If I told him the truth, he’d expect me to be at the hospital within the hour. But if I swung by Robby’s place to check on the guns first, it would take me at least another half hour to get to the hospital. I thought back to where we were thirty minutes ago and lied, “We’re just about to pass through the toll booths at Harriman.”

“Okay,” he said, but not like he was happy about it. “When you get here, come in through the Emergency Room entrance. I’ll probably still be here filling out some paperwork. I’m supposed to call Mr. Torres’s family myself, but I understand under the circumstances if you’d like to do that yourself. Tough break about his brother.”

“Thank you,” was all I could say, my faith in people somewhat restored.

“And can you think of anyone we could call for the girl, besides you?”

“No,” I said. “I don’t really know her. Did you ever find her friend at the service station?”

“No, we didn’t. Marissa’s being treated for shock; you were right. So it may have been her imaginary friend.”

“How can I find you when I get to the hospital, Officer? Who do I ask for?”

“Me,” he said. “Trooper Gamble.”

“Thanks, Trooper Gamble.”

“No problem,” he said.

*   *   *

When we got off at the New Baltimore Travel Plaza, it was time to hit a men’s room. There was no sign inside of the excitement I had listened to almost three hours ago. Just a bunch of road-weary travelers getting their fill of crap for the road and maybe a cheesy New York State souvenir. We took care of business, bought a couple of waters, and headed back to the car.

Edgar got behind the wheel this time and handed me his laptop.

“I already put Robby’s address in. You know how to work the Maps app?”

“I think so.” I proceeded to find out how close to the truth that was.

After navigating for a while, I said, “Shit,” then pulled my cell from the cup holder.

“What?”

“I never called Jack.” I found Jack’s name in my contacts and left him a quick rundown on his voicemail of what I knew, where we were, and where we hoped to be in about an hour. I knew I’d catch some shit for putting off contacting Jack about developments on his own case, and I didn’t really have an excuse for taking it all on myself—with a lot of help from Edgar.

A half hour later, our blue Maps dot was nearly on top of the red pushpin. Edgar was planning to pull over just ahead, when we noticed a state trooper’s car in front of Robby’s house.

“Shit.” I hadn’t figured that into the equation. “Drive by.”

We drove past the house. Edgar took the first right and pulled over.

“Whatta we do now, Ray?”

“Give me a second.” I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I saw a well-lit, tree-lined block of good-size, unpretentious houses. What I didn’t see was a way to get past the trooper and check out the storage shed.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

Chapter 28

WE TURNED THE CORNER AND WALKED about halfway down the block to where we figured Robby’s house would be on the other side. There was lots of room between the houses, and I didn’t see a reason I couldn’t hop someone’s fence and find the storage shed. There were three possibilities here: one, whoever shot Robby found the guns and took them with him; two, whoever shot Robby didn’t find the guns and they were still there; or three, the responding officers found the guns, and Robby was not only in the hospital but also in deep shit. I supposed there was a chance that whoever shot Robby didn’t even know about the guns, but I seriously doubted it. I was rooting for the long shot: the shooter never found the guns.

“Okay,” I said to Edgar. “Here’s how we’re going to play this.”

I spent the next minute explaining how I’d jump the fence and we’d keep in touch by cell phone. If he saw anybody coming, he’d warn me and I’d be out of there. If I saw any cops in Robby’s backyard, I’d turn around and we’d split. Sounded simple enough as I was saying it, but I knew that what I
didn’t
know could play a big factor in the way things turned out.

“Either way,” I said, “I’m back in less than five.”

“Cool,” Edgar said.

We bumped fists, and I went off into some unsuspecting suburbanite’s backyard. There were lights on in all the surrounding houses, but no one seemed to be outside this evening. I was grateful for that, but if I owned a home up here with a backyard and it was seventy degrees outside, I’d be all over that. But that’s me.

Before hopping the four-foot-high fence, I crouched down behind some bushes and listened. My knees complained a little, but not enough to stop me. I couldn’t hear any worrisome activity on the other side. Rather than hop, I rolled over the fence, went back into a crouch, and listened. Again, nothing.

I made my way over to what I took to be Robby’s storage shed, and it didn’t take long—even in the low light—to see that the door was closed. I approached and saw it was locked with a padlock. So if the shooter had taken the guns, he locked up after himself.
Why bother—?

I heard a man’s voice; someone coming from around the side of the house farther from me. I hid behind the shed and held my breath. The voice got louder, but I couldn’t hear a second person. I turned off my phone for fear of Edgar’s voice coming through too loudly. When the voice got closer, I heard him say, “Over.”

Now a second voice crackled over a walkie-talkie, “Sergeant says to give it another half hour and head on back.” A radio conversation between cops.

“Roger that,” the backyard cop said. I couldn’t see his face, but he must have been a newbie; few longtime cops still said “Over” and “Roger” on the radio. But why the hell was he back here and not out front? Did a neighbor look out a window and report someone creeping through the backyard? The guy didn’t sound like he was on high alert. But something had brought him back here.
What?

My answer came with the unmistakable sound of urine hitting metal. The guy needed to take a leak and chose this spot to do it. That’d make for a great headline: Trespassing Teacher Nabbed by Pissing Cop. I stayed put and was relieved to hear the sound of the cop pulling up his zipper. Now I just hoped he was heading back to his car and not deciding to take a stroll around the yard.

A full minute went by, and I heard nothing else. I crept around the other side of the shed and saw no one. I turned my phone back on and called Edgar.

“What’s up?” he whispered. “I thought I lost you there.”

“I had a visitor,” I said. “What’s it like out by you?”

“If your visitor was a cop, he just came out front again. Sorry I missed that earlier. I think he’s the only cop here.”

“I’m on my way back to the car. Meet me there.”

*   *   *

Five minutes later, Edgar stopped the car at the Emergency Room entrance of the hospital.

“Park in the visitor’s lot,” I said. “Stay there until I call you.”

“You sure you don’t want me to come in with you?”

“I’m hoping to get some answers in there, Edgar. But first, I’m gonna get hit by a shitload of questions. If you come in, they’ll question you, too, and who knows how long that’ll go on.” I opened the car door. “I’ll call you.”

“Good luck,” he said.

I thought about Robby getting shot, not knowing where the guns were, and Marissa’s instability. “It is way too late for luck,” I answered.

I got out of the car and entered through the automatic doors. The ER desk was right there, and I saw a state trooper with his hat under his arm, flirting with the admitting nurse. I approached the desk with my hand out.

“Trooper Gamble?” I said.

He turned and gave me the once-over. It took him a few seconds, but he caught on quickly and took my hand. “Mr. Donne?”

“Raymond,” I said. “How’s Robby?”

“He’s out of surgery, and they got him in recovery, so I don’t expect he’ll be giving us any info real soon. He’s listed as critical.”

“And Marissa?”

“Last I heard, they’ve got her sedated on an IV drip. Something about her electrolytes being low, too. The doctors want her more stable before we interview her about the shooting.”

I gave the impatient nurse a smile, took Gamble by the elbow, and walked a few feet away from the desk. He glanced at my hand on his arm but went with me.

“Anything else I should know?” I asked.

He gave that some thought. “Like what?”

I wanted to know about the guns, but made something up. “You get the shooter?”

“No,” he said. “We’re sweeping the neighborhood, but the guy’s probably long gone. Like I said, we need to interview this Marissa girl.”

“Anything taken?”

“From the house?”

I nodded.

“No idea,” he said. “Probably have to wait for Mr. Torres to tell us that, and we’ve got no idea when that’s gonna be.”

“Right,” I said. I saw nothing in the trooper’s face that told me he was hiding something from me. Like, “Oh, yeah. We found a stash of automatic pistols in the storage shed.” That was something, at least.

“I need you to answer a few questions
for me,
Mr. Donne,” Gamble said.

“Yeah.” I looked over at the row of chairs along the wall. There were about a dozen seats, half of them occupied. Two guys were sitting next to each other, both holding ice packs to their heads. Didn’t look too serious. Minor car accident, I guessed. A few seats over were a mom with two small children, one of whom sounded as if he were about to cough up a lung. This ER was probably her primary care provider. In the last seat by the wall was a brunette with her head down.

“Can we sit?” I asked. “It’s been a long night.”

“Sure.” Trooper Gamble led me over to a chair so near the brunette I worried about our conversation waking her up. “Where’s your buddy? Edgar?”

“He’s parking the car.”

“I’d like to talk to him as well.”

“He’s just my ride.”

“Yeah, well,” Gamble said. “I’ll make that call, if you don’t mind.”

I shrugged. “Absolutely.”

He pulled out his pad and flipped it open. “I know we spoke about this over the phone, but I need you to tell me what your relationship is with Marissa and why she called you. Don’t leave out anything you think may be unimportant.”

It took me less than two minutes to tell him everything I was going to tell him. That’s the beauty of a simple story. It’s easier to remember which parts you left out—especially the ones that may land someone in jail.

“And you never met her?” Gamble said. “But you have her picture on your phone because the deceased sent it to you?”

“No. His phone got mixed up with mine at the hospital, and when I saw the photo I thought it might be important to the cops, so I took a picture of it with my phone.”

“Why didn’t you just give the phone to the responding officers?”

“I did,” I said, and then realized the more I said, the more I sounded like I was hiding something. I could tell this guy I’d given the phone to Uncle Ray, but I didn’t want to get into all that. “It was the concussion. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

I looked over Gamble’s shoulder as a doctor came into the waiting area. I stood up, thinking it was about Robby. Instead, he crouched down in front of the mom and her kids. He took the coughing boy by the hand and led the family away. The two guys with the ice packs gave the doctor a look and he held up his hand, saying something I couldn’t hear. The woman at the end never moved. Maybe she was asleep.

“All right, Mr. Donne,” Gamble said. “I’m not sure what you wanna do now. Mr. Torres will probably be a guest here for a few days, and the doctors won’t allow you to see him or the girl tonight.” He looked at his watch. “We’re going to hold off calling the family until the morning so you can call first. It’s your call, but it’s a bit late to be driving back to the city. There’s a cheap hotel down the street. Why don’t you and your buddy get some sleep?”

I rubbed my eyes. “That’s a good idea.”

“Maybe you can go splash some water on your face. I need you to stick around here until I speak with Edgar.”

“I understand.”

“Men’s room is over there.” He pointed in the direction of the brunette at the end of the row of seats. “Make a right down that hallway. I’ll meet you back here after I talk with your buddy, Edgar.”

We headed off in opposite directions. I got to the men’s room, turned the water on cold, and splashed it on my face. I burped and smelled beer and coffee. I would have paid five bucks for a stick of gum at that point. I went back out in search of a vending machine.

As I passed the brunette, I thought I heard her on her cell phone. On closer inspection, she was talking to herself, and that made me hope she had someone coming to pick her up. I got to my seat, leaned back, rested my head against the wall, and closed my eyes. I was so sleepy, plus the bright lights of the waiting room were getting to me. If Edgar didn’t go off on some tangent with Trooper Gamble on how New York State laws compared to those in the city, we would be at the hotel soon.

I heard some footsteps coming toward me and opened my eyes. Expecting a doctor, a nurse, or the trooper, I was wrong on all three. It was the brunette from the waiting room. Now that she was standing, I could see her expectant belly. She stopped when she reached me, covered her face with her hands, and stood above me, crying. I wasn’t sure I had it in me to endure one more drama today.

“Can you help me get back home?” she asked through her hands.

Her crying was mixed with a girlish whine. When she took her hands away from her face, I could see now that she wasn’t a woman. She was a teenager.

“Don’t you need to talk to the nurse?” I stood and looked around for someone. “Should I get the doctor?”