Sweet Dreams (5 page)

DREAMS

31

testing something. Kirk guessed it would be the air and food. More pictures were shown of agents going through the rooms looking for any clue that would lead to an answer to the cause of death.

A lean redheaded agent, wearing a pale gray suit sitting in the front row raised her hand.

"Yes, Sally, go ahead," Jacobson said.

"So what you're saying is ... there's no poison, no toxic substance in the air, and nothing out of the ordinary?"

The captain looked nervous as he pulled up the next picture. "Well, not everything. This is what was discovered inside of every inmate's pillow. It was sewn inside like it was put there from the factory." The picture showed a cut-open pillow with a small piece of cloth with the initials "W.J.A."

"We're looking into every possibility. In addition, if this has been done as some sort of vigilante group, we will stop at nothing to catch them. I need you all to be on top of this case, and unless we get anything that proves the contrary, we will be classifying this case as a mass homicide."

Captain Jacobson looked around the room one last time, then turned everything back over to Special Agent Mathews and turned and took a seat next to the thin redhead in the front row.

Kirk watched as the Mathews began to give out his last orders. He split up the room and gave each of them assignments. Each person was handed a cream-colored file folder stuffed with photos and case records, and each file contained everything you did and didn't want to know about the inmates housed at David's Island. They were to follow up with the deceased families and see what--if anything, they could find out. It was a shot in the dark and Kirk thought that they were barking up the wrong tree. They should be looking into this W.J.A. note, the pillow factory, and the food delivery service; someone had to have seen or remembered something that could help.

After they were dismissed, he left hurriedly, heading for the exit. He pushed open the door to the parking garage where he had parked his rental car.

"Chirp, chirp." The lights lit up on a dark blue Ford Crown Victoria, it was a hard habit to break. He had driven a Crown Vic for as long as he could remember and he liked knowing what he had under the hood. Getting in, he tossed the files in the back where they scattered all over the seat and a few loose photos fluttered to the floor. He turned the key and peeled out of the garage leaving a black rubber tire mark on the pavement. He started driving back in the direction of his hotel. He had to think, to really think,
did he want to do this?

Did he have a choice?
His career was almost over anyway; one more screw-up, and his boss would have him patrolling a mall parking lot for the rest of his life. He hunched over as he drove, his back was aching again and the stress and the flight didn't help any.

"Ah, screw it!" He said with a grunt.

With that, he flipped the car around and headed for the expressway in the direction of David's Island. He paid no heed to the honking horns and the angry waves that came from the other cars he had just cut off, he wanted to see the crime scene for himself.

Chapter Three

LIGHTS GLEAMED IN THE MOONLIGHT, HIGH ABOVE

the city. The view of the New York skyline was breathtaking. Mark stared into K's eyes and couldn't remember when she looked more beautiful. He reached into his pocket and pulled out her gift. He placed it on the table and slid it toward K with a smile.

"Oh, Mark, honey, you shouldn't have! You know, all I need is you!" K's eyes sparkled as she untied the red bow, the lid of the long black box made a faint popping sound as she opened it. K gasped and put her hand to her lips. "Honey, it's beautiful!" She almost whispered. She held up a diamond necklace and it caught a touch of light from the moon and twinkled. The silver chain held a sparkling diamond circle and Mark got up and moved behind her, and hooked the silver chain around her neck.

"This has been the most wonderful five years of my life. Never in all my wildest dreams did I think it could be like this." Kissing her on the shoulder softly, he pulled her to her feet and they embraced. "Dance with me?" Mark said as the music started.

The music was soft in the background as they held each other and danced. The balcony of
The Leaf
sat high above the city where it overlooked Brooklyn Bridge. All around the balcony on the fifteenth floor where the Leaf was, stood tall torches that were lit and tall orange flames flickered making K's soft skin glow in the firelight. Mark thought about how warm and content he felt, holding K in his arms, and how he knew that he was the luckiest man in the world. After the song ended which was Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, Mark took K's hand and they walked over to the edge of the balcony looking out at the New York skyline. The city looked alive with white and yellow lights filling the sky making the stars look pale in comparison.

"Thank you, honey. This night has been just what I needed." Leaning her head on his shoulder, she shivered a little.

"Are you cold?" Mark asked.

"Just a little..." It was warm out but a slight breeze was coming from the bay with a hint of salt in the air.

"Ok, I'll get the check; I'll be right back. I have another surprise for you anyway!" Mark hurried off to find the waiter, and K shook her head and smiled, she liked how excited he got when he was trying to surprise her.

After taking care of the tab, Mark grabbed K's hand and they went down the elevator to the lobby. The car pulled up

DREAMS

35

with a short man stepping from behind the wheel, he had on a red vest and a white shirt with a cursive
L
on the left corner showing that he worked for the restaurant. Mark gave him a twenty and opened the door for K.

"Where are we going?" She tugged on his arm and smiled flirtatiously.

"You'll see when we get there," Mark teased. "Don't worry. You'll like it." K pretended to resist and pouted a little playfully.

The streets were busy as usual, but then again, it was Friday night in New York. The hotel that Mark had booked was the Hilton Garden Inn, which was where they had spent their first night together before heading out to California for their honeymoon. Mark wanted to bring her back to the same room and this year he had the luck to get the reservation in on time and couldn't wait to see K's reaction.

As they drove up in front of the fourteen-story stucco and glass building and the valet, a thin faced kid who looked like he was right out of grade school took the keys and delivered the car to the parking garage. K giggled with glee and she clutched Marks hand and pulled him up the stairs and into the front lobby. "Mark, you
sneak.
How did you get us a room?

They're always booked."

"Not just a room. I got
our
room!" Grinning, Mark flinched as K tried to hit him in the arm. Mark could see where Sam got all of her energy from.
Like mother, like
daughter.

The lobby had smooth cream-colored marble floors with bright red leather couches and fluffy chairs in the same soft red color. A fireplace raged in the sitting room and an older man who looked like he was used to the finer things in life sipped a cup of coffee and watched the fire from the closer of the two couches. He was lost in the yellow firelight thinking of what his life amounted to or maybe remembering a love he had once had that was just as hot as the fire in which he stared. Mark looked away from the man and went up to the tall light colored front counter to check in.

The room was everything they had remembered, it was as if time was reversed and it was their very first time together as husband and wife. The fire was burning in the living room fireplace and it sent soft orange and white light throughout the room. Candles flickered on the nightstand next to the dark coffee brown bed, K turned her eyes to Mark, and they took on the light from the fire and seemed to come alive, like a firefly on the first night of spring. Her soft hands took Marks and she led him to the bedroom through a set of French doors. Her long, blond hair was that of an angel and Mark could see each strand as it curled down around her shoulders. Mark tried to say something but K put one finger to his lips, reached behind her, and closed the door.

Mark knew that the way he felt tonight, how his heart pounded in his throat, that this was something special, something that you don't find by accident. No, this was love, true love that you couldn't fake or manufacture. Every day he grew more and more in love with K, and he could not wait to grow old with her.

"I love you, K..."

________________________________________

REPORTERS RAN EVERYWHERE LIKE ants after some-

DREAMS

37

one had just kicked in the anthill. The prison had an odd presence about it. It was like death had moved in and even after he had done his work with his boney fingers, the stench of his soul lingered.

Kirk was used to seeing guards high up in towers and roaming the grounds and inmates in orange jump suits working out or playing courtyard ball. However, this looked like a movie set, and the cameras were not rolling.

Most of the bodies were already at the CSI crime lab so the mortician could examine them further. Kirk got out of his car, flashed his badge at the officer who was trying to keep the mob of reporters back with not much success. He was a fat out of shape cop with dark sunglasses on and a radio in his hand. The pot-bellied cop let him pass with just a look. He had been swarmed with FBI and detectives all day and to him what was one more goon tromping around the crime scene?

"What a mess--
vultures.
They all want a piece," Kirk muttered as he looked back over his shoulder. Finding the poor sap who was supposed to be in charge was easy. He was the one barking out orders, holding a blueprint of the prison in one hand and a cup of black coffee in the other.

"Hey, cap! You the man around here?" Kirk didn't bother taking off his mirror finish sun glasses, and he knew it was a sign of disrespect but he was never good at the whole butt kissing thing.

"Yeah. Who wants to know?" His thick mustache curled as he spoke and he talked out only one side of his mouth.

"The name's Kirk, Kirk Weston, DPD. I'm here with the FBI trying to get a look around, if I could," he said while holding up his badge so the captain could get a closer look. He could tell the middle-aged police captain didn't like someone else stomping around in his crime scene, and he didn't blame him.
Heck, he didn't even want to be here.
The captain glared at Kirk from under his hat wide brimmed cowboy hat. "Fine, just don't touch anything. Besides, there isn't much to see. But knock yourself out anyway."

Muttering a thanks, Kirk turned and headed to the front door. He ducked under the police line and headed in the direction where he thought the cafeteria might be. The correctional facility or as Kirk called it--
prison
,
stink-
ing liberals liked to gussy up the place to make it seem like a
four star resort,
had the usual amenities. To the west, we have for your viewing pleasure a beautiful concrete wall with razor wire at the top just for looks I assure you! Kirk made a sick grin and looked up at the building that stood in front of him. All the buildings were one story and made of concrete and brick. Not many windows or bushes and to Kirk's surprise no garden of petunias to add some color to the drab surroundings. The front doors were open and a paramedic wheeled by him pushing a gurney with a black body bag strapped to it like a dark Christmas gift from hell. Kirk wandered down the hall, then to the left through two sets of double doors. He smelled stale milk, mashed potatoes, and followed his nose to the cafeteria. Food was everywhere, and trays were still sitting on the tables, some overturned on the floor spilling gravy and corn in a splash on the cold concrete floor. It was like someone had frozen time and then everyone just disappeared. Metal tables in neat rows just like the pictures Kirk had seen in the confer-

DREAMS

39

ence just hours earlier, but with one distinct difference, no bodies were there with stunned looks on their faces and fear in their eyes. A few CSI agents were collecting samples and labeling them in plastic bags over a few rows from where Kirk watched.

"I thought you guys would be done by now." One of the agents looked up at Kirk when he spoke and broke the deafening silence. He was a man of less then average stature and had thick blond hair that kept falling in his face every time he looked down.

"We
were
done. But after we didn't find anything abnormal in the samples we gathered the first time, we decided to come back to get samples from all the food bins in the kitchen, as well as something from every tray."

"It doesn't make any sense," the other agent, a brunette in her mid-twenties with a slim waist and wearing a white button up top and black slacks which looked funny to Kirk with the latex gloves. "If it was in the food, it would have killed the guards who according to them had eaten the same thing as the rest of the inmates."

"What about something airborne?" Kirk asked. A gas or something,"

"No. That would have done the same thing. It would have killed anyone within range." The short one, looking to be in his thirties, scratched his head and pushed away a loose strand of blond hair from his face.

"Do any of you have a card?" Kirk said. The pretty brunette reached in her pocket, and pulled out a white card and handed it to him. "Thanks. I might call you in a few days to see if you have anything new, I am working with the FBI on this one, never thought I would work with the Feds..." Kirk trailed off and muttered something in almost a whisper.

"No problem. This one's a mystery," she said. Kirk looked around a little more, and then went back to the kitchen where the meals were prepared. Sifting through a file cabinet that sat in a back corner, he found a paper that looked like a purchase order.