Forever Man (26 page)

Kevin was trembling. “A man. A man and…and a woman. And…a
thing
.”

“What going on?” said J.J., wide awake now. “I mean, you’re talking. I can even understand you.”

“Listen to me! The man, he’s closest. Closer than the woman. But the thing…it scares me, J.J.. Scares me bad.”

“Wait a minute.” J.J.’s brows drew together in an angry knot. “You’ve been able to talk all along, and you’ve been hiding it?”

“No,” panted Kevin. “No, it…won’t last. I can….” He screwed his eyes shut. “It’s bad, J.J.. Really…wheelly…rad…no,
BAD
! Baddity bad.” Kevin gritted his teeth. “Not yet!” Kevin opened his eyes, and J.J. saw that they were twitching, as if he were going through a seizure or something. Kevin suddenly drew a hand back and slapped his own face—hard. The twitching stopped. Kevin looked straight at J.J. and said, “Please, help me. I’m scared.” Then Kevin lost whatever battle he’d been fighting. The awareness faded from his expression, replaced with the familiar dullness of his autism. He turned from J.J., his attention drawn once again to the cartoon images flitting across the television screen.

J.J. gently shook his brother’s shoulder. “Hey, you in there?”

Kevin shrugged his shoulder away, frowned, and began picking his nose.

He sighed. His brother was gone—or back, depending on how you looked at it.

Man, woman and thing? He wondered what that meant.

J.J.’s cell phone began vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out. His dad was calling him.

What was he supposed to do now? He was going to use Kevin as a bargaining chip, but after what he’d just witnessed—

His phone buzzed insistently in his hand. Answer, or let it go to voicemail?

His brother sat there, still rooting around his nasal cavity, oblivious to everything around him. Or was he really? J.J. wasn’t so sure now.

The phone continued to vibrate, his father’s name on the display screen.

He had to think fast. How was he supposed to choose between an asshole father and a dumb-shit brother who may not be so much of a dumb-shit? Too bad there wasn’t a third choice.

Wait a minute. His eyes widened. Maybe there was.

J.J. thumbed the answer button and said, “Hi, Dad. Just the guy I wanted to talk to.”

Jack Sallinen sat on the motel bed, his cell phone pressed tightly to his ear, and waited for his older son to answer. The phone kept ringing. He was getting ready to hang up when he heard J.J.’s voice.

“Hi, Dad. Just the guy I wanted to talk to.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jack said. “And you’re the bright spot of my morning, too.”

A brief pause, then, “Couldn’t you to at least pretend you like me?”

“I’m severely lacking in ‘warm and fuzzy’ at the moment. Get to the point. You said you had something I wanted.”

“You’re a real jerk, you know that.”

“Tell me what this is about or I’m hanging up. I don’t have time for games.”

“What, you and Silverado Man busy getting all buddy-buddy?”

Jack’s eyes slid over to Webber. Silverado Man was currently sitting in a chair, eyes closed, his hands held protectively over his abdomen. After waking, he’d changed out of the blood-stained shirt. He now wore a black pullover.

“Been sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong, huh?”

“Who is he, Dad? Why’s he so interested in Kevin?”

Oh, great. Like I need another complication. “I’m still not hearing what you want.”

“Answer the question. What’s so special about Kevin?”

Jack thought for a moment. Maybe a little truth could work to his advantage about now. “All right, I’ll tell you. Your brother’s been kidnapped. That colored guy in town, Owens? He took him. Silverado Man and I are trying to get him back.”

“Oh, man, this is great.” J.J. was chuckling. “You don’t have a freaking clue, do you?”

“About what?” 

“About Kevin.” J.J. paused before going on. “No one took him. I have him.”

Jack shot to his feet. “You what?”

Webber looked up at him, curious.

“Yeah,” J.J. said. “He’s sitting right next to me.”

“Who’s there with you?”

“Nobody. Just me and Kevin. Why?”

Jack was speechless. Morris had been playing him, lying to him about Kevin. She and Owens both. And he’d fallen for it. He’d let a couple of Be Nothings stick it to him. Anger burned through him. How could he have been so goddamned
stupid
?

“Okay,” Jack said, pulling himself together. “Give me a second here. So you have Kevin.” Across from Jack, Webber sat up straight in his chair, his expression eager, almost hungry. “Good. At least he’s safe. Now, tell me where you are. Even with the snow, it shouldn’t take me long to get there.”

“There’s something different about Kevin. I mean, more than just his autism.”

Jack frowned. That hadn’t sounded like a question; it was more like a statement of fact. “What are you talking about? Did something happen? Is Kevin okay?”

“So you really don’t know.”

“Know what? For Christ’s sake, spit it out.”

“No,” said J.J.. “I think I’ll keep this one to myself. It’s nice to have the upper hand for a change. But I do want to talk to you. Face-to-face.”

“Why is it always a game with you?” snapped Jack. “Just tell me where you are and—“

“Don’t talk to me about games,” J.J. yelled back. “You’re the one playing the games. ‘Kevin’s the only one who matters. Fuck the rest of them’. What kind of game is
that
?”

Jack bit the inside of his cheek. “I see. And just how long were you listening in on that conversation?”

“Long enough.”

Jack closed his eyes. What a pain in the ass this kid was turning out to be. God, he hated making nice, but if he was going to get Kevin back…. “Look, I’m sorry about that. Not one of my better moments. Forget I said it.” He opened his eyes. “I do love you. You’re my son, after all.”

With tears in his voice, J.J. asked, “Was that so hard to say?”

“Let me come get you. Then we can talk.”

“I don’t think so. I’ll meet you back at the house—”

“No,” Jack interjected. “I don’t want to draw any attention to our home.” At least, no more than there already was.

“Okay, where?”

Jack thought for a moment. “My office?”

“Sorry, no one gets home field advantage. Pick a neutral spot.”

“There are no neutral spots in town. I don’t know why—” Jack stopped. Old age was getting to him. The answer was simple. “How about somewhere away from town? There’s a place about ten miles east of here, down 28 on the north side. The Hiawatha Trails Motel. I’ll meet you in the parking lot. And don’t forget your brother.”

“Fine, give me an hour or two.”

“Why so long?”

“Because I said so,” his son replied, then hung up before Jack could get another word in.

From his chair, Webber said, “So your boys were together the whole time.”

“Yeah,” said Jack. “Looks like we’ll get Kevin, and we’ve eliminated Izzy Morris.” He smiled at Webber. “Not bad.”

Webber twirled a finger in the air. “Whoop-de-fucking-doo.”

After hanging up on his father, J.J. checked through his cell’s directory, then hit the call button. When Katie’s best friend, Brittany Parsons, answered, he said, “Hey, it’s me. I’m sorry to call so early, but I need a favor and I can’t find Katie. Can you come over to her house and watch my brother for me? It’s kind of an emergency. I shouldn’t be more than a few hours. You can? Thanks. I appreciate it. See you in a few.”

He tucked his cell phone into his back pocket and turned to Kevin. His brother sat there, seemingly oblivious to everything around him.

“Man,” J.J. said. “I hope you’re worth it.”

Izzy woke to the sound of her office door opening. She blinked, and then noticed Gene perched in a chair across from her, fast asleep.

“Gene,” she whispered, and his eyes snapped open.

The door finished swinging open, and Katie stepped into the office. Her pale face was wet with tears, and her clothes were rumpled. She held a wad of tissues in her fist.

“Katie,” Izzy said, yawning. “What time—?” She glanced at her desk clock. “Oh, honey. You didn’t have to stay in there all night by yourself.”

“It’s okay,” replied Katie. “It was…different.”

Gene sat up, wincing from the abrupt movement. “We were waiting for you. Figured you would come get us after, well, you know….” He rubbed at his eyes. “Figured we’d continue the search for Jack, but we ended up falling asleep sometime after midnight.”

“I have to call the coroner again,” said Izzy, dropping her head in her hands. It would be another delay. More time spent not looking for her daughter.

“You might want to hold off on that,” Katie said. “There’s something you want to see first.”

Izzy and Gene exchanged puzzled glances.

“Just follow me,” Katie added mysteriously and left the room, leaving the other two with no choice but to follow.

In the resource room, they found Bart Owens's body lying amid pieces of the shattered door, the broken remains of the filing cabinet, and the long conference table, which now leaned against the wall like an upended coffin. Under the glow of fluorescent light, Katie sat down cross-legged beside his body.

“They’re here,” she said.

Izzy was about to ask Katie who she was talking to when Owens spoke.

“Thank you,” he said weakly. Then he added, “Could you two come over here? I don’t want to hurt my neck twisting it.”

Gene’s jaw dropped open. “No fucking way.”

Izzy ran over to the old man. No one could’ve survived the wounds he’d sustained. The blood loss alone was fatal. Yet his eyes shone with a clarity that told her he might still live.

“Katie,” Izzy said harshly. “You should’ve said something. Gene, we’re going to need that ambulance.”

Owens lifted a hand in the air, stopping her. “I’ll be all right. That woman. Aggie? How is she?”

Izzy paused for a moment, wondering if she should get an ambulance anyway. Owens looked strong, remarkably strong. But still, he would need—

“The woman,” the old man repeated. “Is she all right?”

“Her husband came for her,” Izzy replied, and thought of Aggie’s near catatonic state. “He took her to the hospital.”

Owens pulled air in through his nose, his wide nostrils flaring. “What have you told your officers?”

“Not a whole lot yet,” said Izzy. “We were lucky this happened during the night shift. But keeping ‘the current event’ under wraps is going to get harder. I need to come up with a good explanation for all this.”

“Hopefully we’ll be done soon and I’ll be gone.” Owens took another deep breath. “Gene, do you need an engraved invitation?”

“Right. Sorry.” Gene crossed the room. Careful not to aggravate his injured back, he eased himself down across from Katie. He looked at Owens with a mixture of awe and relief. “You should be dead, you know.”

Owens managed a smile. “Good to see you, too.”

“Don’t turn this into a joke,” Izzy snapped. “It’s not funny. We were
attacked
.” She pointed to Owens. “And Gene’s right. You should be dead. Those wounds—” She gripped the blanket covering the man and yanked it down around his waist. When she lifted the shreds of his Predators sweatshirt, she received another shock.

Owens's wounds, the deep lacerations that had torn his flesh apart, were knitted shut. All that remained of his injuries were pink-brown lines of healing skin and blotches of dried blood.

“Oh, man,” breathed Gene. “You sure the FBI doesn’t have an X-Files division.”

Dropping the blood-soaked cloth, Izzy’s voice shook as she said, “You’re healed. That’s impossible. No one can do that. ”

Katie brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I don’t know how he did it. It just—happened.”

Owens asked, “Could someone find me some food and water, please? The more the better. This kind of thing always wears me out.”

Katie got up and left the room. Gene’s eyes were looking a little wild as he stared at Owens.

Izzy’s mind was spinning with questions. “Who—no,
what
are you?”

“I’m a living, breathing person. Same as you.”

“Hardly. I can’t heal myself the way you did.”

A hint of bitterness crept into Owens's voice. “It’s not something you’d want.”

That gave Izzy pause. “Most people would consider it a miracle.”

“Most people haven’t had to be me,” Owens replied.

Katie returned with an arm full of snacks and several bottles of water. She set them down next to Owens. He thanked her, opened one of the bottles, and drank until it was empty. He ripped open a bag of cookies. Fig Newtons began disappearing into his mouth, one after another.

Between bites, Owens said, “I don’t know what to tell you about the healing. I’ve been able to do it for as long as I can remember.”

“You mean you were born with it?” Izzy asked.

“Well, I can’t remember quite
that
far back,” Owens said. “But yes, that would be a fair assessment.”

“Then why hasn’t anyone ever heard of you? I mean, you’re a medical miracle. Entire text books would have been written about you.”

“Yeah,” added Gene, grinning. “You should’ve at least made the cover of the
Enquirer
.”

“I’d rather avoid that kind of exposure,” said Owens, opening another water and taking a long drink.

Izzy wanted to pin him down, try to force a better answer from him, but another thought had occurred to her. One that left her feeling cold. “This healing, does it only work when you’re hurt?”

Owens's hand stopped midway to his mouth. Izzy thought she saw a hint of caution in his blue eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Izzy said, “does it cure colds? Stop heart disease? Beat cancer? Prevent
aging
?”

There was a moment when no one moved. Then, sighing, Owens plopped the Fig Newton into his mouth. He chewed slowly, deliberately, like a man in need of time. After washing the cookie down with more water, he said, “I see where you’re going with this. The man heals fast. Amazingly fast. So you have to run it to extremes. Now you think I don’t get sick. Or age.” He shook his head. “That’s why I don’t like involving others in my work. Too much rampant speculation.”