A Shadow Fell (9 page)

             
             
             
             
             
             
18

             
Before I could see her the
hospital
insisted on a little chat
with the attending physician
.
I was directed to a Doctor Salouf, a handsome man with salt and pepper hair, immaculate taste in clothing, and very precise English.
He reminded me a little of the actor, Omar Sharif.
“
She came out of the coma two days ago,”
Salouf
told me when we met in his office. “She has remained awake for very short periods of time since then.
This is quite normal
. He
r motor functions appear in tact
.
But she has a long road to recovery ahead of her.”

             
“I understand,
D
octor,” I said. “I imagine there will be a lot of therapy and so on required. But she’s
going to be
okay
, r
ight?”

             
He looked thoughtful. “
P
hysically I believe
there is good reason to believe
she’
ll
do fine. There will be a period of
recuperation,
of course,
aided by
physical therapy.
It won’t be easy. But I
see no reason why she shouldn’t
do well
in this area
.”

             
The way he
had stressed ‘this area’ left me with the strong impression there was another area he was not so optimistic about. “
There’s something else, Doctor.
What aren’t you telling me?”

             
He cleared his throat. “It’s very early in her recovery yet and we don’t want to draw conclusions based on early indications … but so far she has not been communicative.”

             
“Is that unusual after such a long time in a coma?”

             
“When it comes to comas, Mr. Parmenter, there is much that we don’t know. There is really no such thing as normal in cases like this. But it appears at this stage that she is unable to verbalize or understand oral communication.”

             
“What are you saying? She doesn’t know how to talk?”

             
He nodded his head
in a somber manner
. “It appears that way, yes. We’re going to be running some tests over the next few days and we should know a lot more when the results are available. In the meantime
, you’ll want to see her
, of course,
but please understand she
will almost certainly
give no indication that she
know
s who
you
are
. I know you’ll find th
is
difficult but you simply have to accept it for now. You must not do anything to frighten or startle her. Am I clear?”

             
“Yes,
I understand all that.
Just
please
let me see her.”

             
He stood and told me to come with him.

             
When we entered
her room together Callie was lying prone but awake
. She turned her head very slightly to her left to see us but most of the movement came from her eyes. I watched them closely.

             
She looked from Doctor
Salouf
to me without showing a speck of recognition.
It was like she had never seen
me
before in her life.

             
There was a look of wariness on her face but the closer we came to her the more her eyes reflected fear. The doctor placed his hand on my arm. “Wait here,” he said. He then slowly approached Callie. “Hello, my dear,” he said
in a soothing voice
. “How are you feeling, hmm? Do you remember me? Doctor
Salouf
? Can you say something to me? Anything?”

             
Callie stared at him without speaking or moving. Every once in a while she would steal an apprehensive glance at me, as if to make sure I wasn’t sneaking up on her.

             
I couldn’t stand not being near her. “Callie,” I called gentl
y
. “It’s me
,
Jack. Your husband.”

             
At hearing my voice her eyes turned to me
with that look of half fear, half wonder.
But without recognition. I could have been anyone.

             
The doctor steered me out of the room. “That’s enough for today, Mr. Parmenter. We’ll get the tests started tomorrow
.”

             
The days that followed were
full of worry
for me. I
t
was
wonderful
to have Callie back in my life
even if
it was on a very limited basis
but, s
o far, there had been no change in her ability to remember me or communicate at
any lev
el with anyone. About a week after
she emerged from the coma
Doctor
Salouf
called me into his office.
“Have a seat, Mr. Parmenter,” he said.

             
“Is there any
thing new
,
D
octor
?
Has she progressed at all?”

             
“Not really, no. Her brain
is
healthy but she
appears to have
a case of complete retrograde amnesia
.
That is, she has no memory of anything preceding her attack.
And I mean that in
the
literal sense. She doesn’t know language. She’s unable to recognize anything or anyone. She’s like a newborn baby.
Quite a rare phenomenon actually.
”

             
“Jesus, what ….”

             
“Now, as I said, her brain appears to be healthy
. And she is showing signs that she remembers events post-coma. S
o it
is
my
hope
that
her memory will gradually return, that
she’ll
start to remember things
over
time.
”

             
I took a moment to absorb the meaning of all this.
“
You’re saying it’s
possible
she’ll never remember me?”

             
He shrugged his shoulders. “There is simply no way of knowing the answer to that question at this time.”

             
             
             
             
             
             
             
19

             
I called
my folks
after my return
home and updated them on Callie’s situation. They were positive in the extreme that everything would eventually work out fine. I didn’t share their level of
optimism
but I tried to keep a positive spin on things.

             
Next I called
Con and
invited him
to come over
.
He arrived a couple  minutes later and I ran through what Doctor
Salouf
had told me.

             
“At least there’s hope, Jack. That’s more than you had a week ago.”

             
“I know. I am thankful for the fact that she’s awake. It’s just so hard seeing her when she looks at me like I’m a complete stranger.”

             
“It’ll get better,” he assured me.

             
“I hope so.”

             
“Have you given any
more thought to Henderson?”

             
“That scumbag son-of-a-bitch is never far from my mind, Con.”

             
“Yeah, I know. But I mean about finding him.”

             
“Things have changed a little now,” I admitted. “Callie is going to need me more than ever before. We’ve got a long road to recovery in front of us. I still want to get that fucker, Con, have no doubts about that. But I can’t do it in such a way that I’ll go to prison for it. I have to be smarter than that.”

             
“But you still wanna
kill
him?”

             
I was a bit surprised at Con’s apparent insistence that I clarify my craving for retribution. “You’re damn right I want to
kill
him
,” I said angrily
.

             
Con nodded in his usual contemplative manner. “Right.”

             
“What is it with you anyway?” I demanded. “One minute I think you’re all for helping me string this guy up by his balls and the next you look all pissed off at me that I’m still determined to do it.”

             
“I never said anything about helping you
kill
him,” Con said calmly. “I only said I
was
willing to help you find him.”

             
“Yeah? And then what? We take him to Denny’s and treat him to a senior’s special?”

             
“Very funny.”

             
“Well, what is it you think I should do then?”

             
He stood and walked slowly to the door, then turned to face me.
“
That’s not for me to say, Jack. That’s something you have to work out for yourself. Just make damn sure you’re prepared to live with the consequences of whatever it is you finally decide to do
.
”

             
             
             
             
             
             
             
2
0

             
             
I arrived home from the hospital
a few days later
to
find
a
couple
more
Bureau guys waiting for me.
They were not the same two who had brought me the news of Tanya’s demise but their presence still triggered a plethora of the same feelings that had hit me that day. The one thing I could now count on was that the news couldn’t possibly be as bad as on that previous occasion. It’s the only positive aspect to hitting bottom: if you’re
still able to move
, there’s only one way to go.

             
The agents introduced themselves as Felgaard and Tripp
; they sounded like a Vegas circus act.
Felgaard was the spokesman. “Mr. Parmenter, we were in the area and just wanted to pay our respects, sir.”

             
“That was very kind of you, gentlemen,” I said
, although
I
was
skeptical that there wasn’t more to the visit than a social call. “Come on in.  You can update me on what’s happened.”

             
They seemed happy enough to comply.

             
Inside, Felgaard got right to it. “There’s been an abduction,” he said. “A seven-year-old girl from a small town about a hundred miles north of here.”

             
“You think it’s Henderson?”

             
“We’ve got no evidence linking him to it yet but there are some similarities to his m.o.
The victim is the r
ight age, blond hair, and she was grabbed while playing in a neighborhood park about fifty yards from her home. No witnesses.”

             
I shook my head in a world weary way. “And the beat goes on.”

             
Tripp spoke for the first time. “We were wondering if you had any ideas on where Henderson might be.”

             
His attitude was slightly confrontational. Almost like he was accusing me of withholding pertinent information. “And why would you think that I might, Agent Tripp?”

             
He shrugged in an offhand manner.
“You worked the original case that led to his arrest. You probably know him better than anyone else in law enforcement.”

             
“Well,” I said, trying mightily not to lose my cool, “if I thought I knew where he
was
, don’t you think I might have bothered to mention it to somebody before now?”

             
Tripp leveled a very intimidating
glare
at me and didn’t flinch when I tried to stare him down. “I don’t know,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me?”

             
“What is this all about?”

             
“We have information that you
’ve been keeping the company of a
Conrad Edgerton,
” Felgaard said. “You can understand why we might
find that interesting
.”

             
“
I’m a little surprised that you know
who I’m keeping company with
, gentlemen, but let’s put that aside for a minute. What makes you think
it means
I
’ve
learned anything?”

             
“Your neighbor
,
Mr. Edgerton,” Felgaard responded. “
h
as a … how shall I say this… ‘interesting’ background.”

             
“And what does that mean?” I asked.

             
Felgaard
leaned back, holding both hands
out, palms up. “What do you know about Edgerton?” he asked.

             
“Apart from the fact that he did a hat-trick in Nam and makes a mean highball, nothing much at all.”

             
“So you’re not aware of his… speckled past.”

             
“Speckled past? What the fuck does that mean?”

             
“I guess it means, Mr. Parmenter, that we are painted with the same brush as those we choose to associate with.”

             
I was beginning to get
real
agitated. “Look, you guys, I don’t have the foggiest idea what it is you’re getting at here but, unless you’d care to elucidate for
me, this
little chat
is over.”

             
Felgaard looked at his partner. “I don’t think we’re going to get anything helpful here, John. Let’s
be off
.”

             
They stood, didn’t offer to shake hands, and left.

             
So what did the fact that they were monitoring me mean? That they considered me a suspect in the attempted murder of my wife and the
murder and
beheading of my daughter? Jesus Christ.

             
I phoned Tom Kilborn before the two agents were out of sight. “Tom,” I said when he came on the line, “I’ve just had a visit from a couple of your boys. Mind telling me what the
hell
is going on?”

             
“What are you talking about, Jack?”

             
“I’m talking about the fact that my movements are apparently being monitored by the FBI. Am I a suspect for Christ’s sake?”

             
“Of course not,”
Kilborn
assured me
. “We’ve been keeping an eye on your place just like I promised you we would. Your movements are noted, not monitored.”

             
It was a distinction I wasn’t sure meant much. “So there was some mention of my neighbor – Con Edgerton – as having a ‘very interesting’ background.
I believe ‘speckled past’ was mentioned.
Wanna fill me in on exactly what that means?”

             
“You really don’t know?”

             
“Tom,” I said
,
“
l
ike I told the two goons that just left here, I know nothing about Con Edgerton but what I’ve learned over a couple of drinks.”

             
“
If he told you he was in the army, he’s not lying.
He’s a highly decorated Viet
nam
soldier. He left the service with more medals than General
MacArthur
. But after his release he came home to his wife and things took a turn for the worse.”

             
“How so?”

             
“
Keep in mind,” Kilborn clarified, “this is all from the State boys.
After he’d been home for about three months
his wife
was reported missing. Him being the husband, of course, he
was
automatically
regarded as
the prime suspect in her disappearance. There was evidence that she had fooled around on him while he was in Nam and it was pretty much a slam dunk that he
offed her
.”

             
“Was he charged?”

             
“No. There was never a shred of hard evidence against him.
He claimed she had simply left because they weren’t getting along after he returned from his last tour.
But, as I’m sure you can appreciate, there are plenty of cops who think
otherwise
.”

             
Well, it was, indeed, interesting. “
You’re not suggesting
there might be some chance he was involved in
any way with what happened to Callie and Tanya are you
?” Even saying it aloud seemed utterly absurd.

             
“No,
no
, I’m not saying that at all. Just… be aware of the facts and act accordingly.”

             
“I’m not at all sure I know what th
e facts are
, Tom.”

             
“
There’s not much more I can tell you, bud.
I’m sorry
,
I’ve gotta run.
We’ll stay
in touch.”