Mind Games (17 page)

If memory served her, she had asked him to leave. His ego was getting the best of him. She didn’t appreciate him assuming she wanted to talk about how they could implicate her father in Dana’s suicide or tarnish his spotless record as a doctor, if he had even treated Dana. She shook her head, thinking her father would have to answer to the medical review board over heinous accusations made by a grieving brother and overzealous doctor who were both guilty of abandoning Dana, a deviant man.

His eyes softened. “Don’t do this. Don’t leave things this way.”

She had no other choice. “Better go. Those kids depend on you.”

She walked to the opposite end of the table, putting the large piece of furniture between them. The front door remained open, and he had a straight shot from where he was standing to it. Her heart hated to see him go without holding her and kissing her one last time, but her head told her to watch him walk out the door.

The door clicked shut and tears welled in her eyes. Probably for the best. Two strong-willed people like her and Derrick were doomed from the start.

Now she needed to convince her heart of what her head already knew. But she was too late. She was in love with him. The rush of the last couple of days had overwhelmed her, moving her from times of sadness to real bliss. The roller coaster of emotions came fast and strong. She desperately wanted to believe she had rushed into things with Derrick in hot pursuit of her schoolgirl crush. Her tears splattered on top of the glass table. She flicked the water droplets, making riverbeds with her tears. She sobbed. Her body rocked with the release of her tantrum. She cried over Derrick and the way things ended with them. She cried over the loss of Dana and her role in his death. She cried for her dad and what she feared most.

Her nose dribbled, forcing her to get up for some tissues. After drying her nose and eyes, she went to the kitchen and filled the teakettle with cold water. She turned the knob on the gas stovetop, clicking on the orange and blue flame. To ease her aching heart, she decided crying into a cup of warm tea would be soothing. While the water heated, she opened the cupboard next to the stove and squinted through watery eyes at the assortment of flavored teas. She selected an herbal blend infused with calming remedies and berries rich in antioxidants. The teakettle whistled. She dropped the tea bag into the bottom of her favorite mug and poured the steaming water over it. The liquid bubbled like her conflicted emotions.

Miserable, she indulged in a piece of extra-dark chocolate. She broke off a serving size from the bar. The rich chocolate melted in her mouth. Before temptation took over, she wrapped the bar, shoved it to the back of the highest cupboard, and shut the cabinet door.

Her cup of tea steeped, and she headed back to the dining room, taking a seat at the dining room table. The torn article rested in front of her. She sipped her tea, realizing she’d managed to stop crying, and opened the folded magazine page. She stared down at the headline. The words Derrick had said to Tony repeated in her head:
We’ll be in touch.
Her eyes misted. He’d declared them a couple at an inopportune time. Had he done it to serve his own interests?

She wouldn’t betray her father, but her curiosity stirred over the contents of the box. Not that she expected to find anything incriminating. The calming effect of the tea put her mind at ease, and she decided no harm would come if she took a closer look. Besides, Detective Tony Sargent would not have left it in her possession if a
real
crime had been committed. She’d overreacted. Perhaps Tony believed Dana had a serious condition stemming from his adolescence, and if her father had treated him, maybe Tony wanted some sort of reassurance concerning his brother’s suicide. Obviously, he had learned something about Dana that shook him to his core. She doubted this implicated her father negatively. Tony needed closure.

She gulped more tea and then dragged the box from the tiled floor in the dining room to the carpeted floor in the living room. Seated in the lotus position, she reached into the box and removed the magazines and bits of paper Dana had taken notes on. She looked down at his handwriting and an eerie chill slinked up her spine. She found it absurd that Tony had expected her to pore over these magazines and Dana’s notes. She couldn’t imagine what else she might find. Why was Tony having her play detective when that was his job? He hadn’t tapped her as an expert or authority. Not that he had admitted to building an actual case against her father, but that seemed a logical motive.

Placing her hands on the floor behind her, she uncrossed her legs and got to her feet. She stared down into the box and started to take out the remainder of magazines, careful to keep the notebook pages Dana had inserted into the various magazines intact. She would have to read all of the articles involving her father, cross-reference Dana’s notes, and try to make sense of it all.

Something shiny in the corner of the box caught her eye. She squinted at the object but couldn’t tell what had gotten stuck there. If the light bouncing off the corner of the glass-topped end table hadn’t shone across the room and into the box, she probably would have missed it.

She wriggled the piece of metal free, taking a closer look. Her stomach, warm with tea, lurched. She dropped the charm shaped like the state of Colorado back into the box and ran to her bedroom where her jacket lay crumpled on the floor. She reached into the pocket and took out the mysterious charm bracelet she’d found in her ballerina jewelry box at her parents’ home. Stretching the charm bracelet out flat against the top of her dresser, she noticed a link missing a charm.

She carried the bracelet out to the living room and picked the charm out of the bottom of the box. Could the two items be related? Why couldn’t she remember owning the bracelet? The charm she found in the box and the charms twisting around the bracelet in midair had no significance to her.

She didn’t like the idea forming in her head. If the charm bracelet didn’t belong to her, how did it end up in her jewelry box? Was the charm the connection between Dana and her father? The bracelet could most certainly implicate her father. She looked back and forth from the charm resting in the palm of her left hand to the bracelet hanging from between her thumb and index finger from her right hand and tried to make sense of things.

Tony hadn’t mentioned the charm, so she assumed he’d missed it during his search. He might have had reasonable doubt when he suspected her father, but the charm could serve as evidence linking Dana to him. How could she explain the vision she’d had of the dead girl whacking her father behind the knees while he and Angel had taken a walk through the garden? If she told Tony about her strange vision of the dead girl and the charm bracelet she found, he would surely go after her father.

Her mind manipulated connections, and she didn’t like the links binding Dana to her father, and her father to the dead girl, and the dead girl to both of them.

Dread settled over Sparrow. She dropped the charm and the bracelet onto the living room coffee table, and wrapped her hands around her arms. She rubbed at the unease covering her and swallowed around the thick, sugary, warm chocolate lump rising in her throat.

The common denominator between her father and Dana was the dead girl.

The dead girl’s voice echoed in her head.
Stop him.

Sparrow had to stop her father.

Derrick drove through the seedy streets of Hollywood. His schedule had gotten off course since the Mobile Health Clinic RV had been in for repairs for the last couple of days, but he resumed his regular schedule, and that meant driving through Hollywood on Friday night. The toughest shifts occurred during the weekend. All walks of life decided Friday and Saturday nights existed to party.

Most of the street kids partied 24/7, but the weekends lured suburban kids away from the safety of their homes and into the misperception of the Hollywood limelight. Kids had always flocked to LA and Hollywood in search of stardom and fame, and Derrick believed more and more would arrive with hopes of being the next big reality TV star. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. He pulled to the corner, parked, and waited. He flipped on the lights for the back of RV, double-checked that the doors were locked, and walked down the corridor to prepare backpacks filled with common hygiene items found in any home’s medicine cabinet.

The repair shop that had tuned up and changed the oil in the RV had donated some T-shirts and sweatshirts. People’s generosity never ceased to amaze him. He folded the tops and put one in each backpack. When he finished, he reached for a pen and pad of sticky notes, wrote
Socks
, and pressed it above the cabinet where he stored T-shirts and sweatshirts.

He looked out the window and noticed a group of kids waiting. He walked to the back of RV and opened the double doors. He looked at their vacant faces and couldn’t help but think about Kat. Had she been helpless and hopeless like the teenage kids before him? He couldn’t imagine his kid sister surviving these tough streets.

Providing these kids with medical care was extremely rewarding. He only wished he could do more. Sparrow offered counsel to the kids by listening to their plight and offering them hope. He missed her tonight. Working solo proved lonely, and he couldn’t engage in conversation with the kids he treated as much as he would have liked. So many needed his help, and he was determined to see them all. The tough part came when he finally had to call it a night.

He pulled away from the curb, but before heading home he drove toward High Point. The night air had cooled considerably, and he had some sweatshirts he could pass out to the kids living on the beach.

The urge to call Sparrow had been eating at him most of the night, but he resisted. She needed time to think about things. He hated the way they had left things. His hand reached for his cell phone. His finger hovered over her number. He tossed the phone back on the console. Damn, he missed her.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the afternoon. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, and to be near her right now. He shouldn’t have gone in the first place. The afternoon could have ended worse if Tony hadn’t shown up. Derrick’s temper had gotten the best of him, and he’d rushed out her front door and straight into Tony after she sighed Dana’s name. He’d acted like a jealous fool, but he could only see that now after learning about Dana’s dark side and the nude photo he had taken of Sparrow.

His temper rose again as he recalled how embarrassed she had been when Tony pushed the photo across the table in front of her. Thinking about what Dana put her through made him want to turn around and go straight to her place. He didn’t care that it was the middle of the night. Her body had fit his like a glove, and he wanted to make love to her again. He wanted her to feel secure in his arms and take away any fears she might have about allowing him to get close. She’d seemed ready when they made love, but after hearing her say Dana’s name, he wasn’t so sure. His stomach turned. Had she been a willing partner out of fear of losing him?

Sirens blared behind him. He pulled into the turnabout near High Point. He’d traveled the speed limit. Why was he being stopped? He pushed the silver button and the window slid down into the door. He waited for the officer to approach, trying to remember where he’d put his insurance paperwork and vehicle registration. The flashing lights whirling off the rearview mirror stopped, and he heard the sound of heavy-booted footsteps approaching the RV. He swung his head around to see who was coming.

“Hey, Derrick, sorry about the abrupt stop,” Tony said. “I was in the area and got called to break up a knife fight. I noticed the RV and got concerned. This is a rough area. What the hell are you doing out here?”

Derrick shook his head, not bothering to conceal the smirk on his face. “Tony, the rough areas need the most help. I offer free medical care to at-risk teenage runaways. I’m usually over here on Wednesday nights. So, what’s up?”

“You know some kid named Sly?” Tony tapped a pen against a small notebook.

“Yeah, him and his girlfriend, Angel, assaulted me a few days ago, and when I was down on the ground they raided the RV. I managed to get up and back into the RV. Sly jumped out the back. Angel wasn’t as quick. She tumbled out and looked hurt. Sparrow and I came out here and found her. She’s at the Von Langleys’.”

Derrick responded to the puzzled look on Tony’s face: “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

“Mind stepping back so I can get out?” Derrick asked. Tony moved away from the driver’s-side door, allowing Derrick to push it open. “I’m guessing Sly was in the knife fight?”

Tony nodded. “Why’s the girl with the Von Langleys?”

“I asked Sparrow to help me find Angel. Prior to the attack on me, I didn’t know her or her boyfriend. I thought that Angel would be less afraid to accept medical treatment if I had a woman with me. Sly bartered with Sparrow. So we gave him a hundred bucks and took Angel. Her ankle’s twisted. We were driving to the hospital when Sparrow got a call from her dad. He said her mom was asking for her. Apparently, Mrs. Von Langley has some mental health issues. Depression.”

“Hmm. Go on.”

The expression on Tony’s face questioned Derrick’s accuracy about Mrs. Von Langley’s condition.

“Well, Dr. Von Langley offered to care for Angel, and although I was hesitant, I agreed.”

“That’s interesting.”

“What?”

“Sly says his girl’s been missing for days and some old guy came by telling him he has Angel and that Sly should go with him.”

“I’ll ask Angel, but I’m assuming she asked Dr. Von Langley if Sly could spend a few days there with her? I’ll go by the Von Langleys’ tomorrow and ask her if she’s been asking for Sly. The kid is probably freaked out. The night we took Angel, I wasn’t driving the Mobile Health Clinic RV.”

Out of the blackness, a lankly kid ran, clutching his side, yelling, “Wait, hey, wait, I’m hurt.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Take your time,” Derrick shouted back, and then turned and walked to the back of the Mobile Health Clinic RV. He threw open the doors and went inside to retrieve his black medical bag. He jumped back out and looked at Tony, who was standing at the rear bumper. “Sorry, duty calls, but you can stick around if you want.”

“I’ll be here. I’ve got to get back in the patrol car and fill out a report.” Tony turned his back to Derrick and climbed into his police cruiser.

“Hey, doc,” said the kid who had been running toward them. He heaved in another deep breath. “I got cut. Hurts real bad.”

“Let me guess, slash across the left ribs?”

“That’s right.” The kid threw his head in the direction of Tony’s police car. “I guess he told you about the knife fight.”

Derrick nodded. “He didn’t mention you’d been hurt, but it’s common to get cut on your left side if the person waving a knife is right-handed,” he said, wielding an invisible knife through the air and demonstrating how the cut most likely occurred.

“Good, doc, you got it. Now can you fix it?” Sly asked, opening up his denim jacket and lifting his bloody shirt.

“I can fix it, Sly. It is Sly, isn’t it?

“Yeah, man, how’d you know? The cop tell ya?”

Derrick shook his head. “You really don’t care for your girlfriend very much, do you, Sly?”

“Huh, what do you know about her?”

“I paid a hundred dollars for her the night before last.”

Sly dropped his shirt and clenched his fists. “You mother—”

He lunged at Derrick, throwing a fist in the air. Derrick stepped back and out of the way of Sly’s swinging arm. Tony jumped out of the patrol car and grabbed Sly behind his denim jacket collar.

“Cool it, kid,” Tony said, dragging Sly backward so the kid was next to him. “Ah, geeze, you again?”

“Let me go, dude, I’m hurt.”

“Not until you tell me why you tried to punch out the doctor.”

“He has my girl. You gonna arrest him? I told you she was missing.” Sly struggled against Tony’s hold. His agitated face contorted and his eyes squinted, glaring at Derrick. “You’re goin’ down, dude.” He pointed a finger in Derrick’s direction.

“Relax,
dude
, Angel’s fine. She’s with a friend resting her twisted ankle.”

“Settle down, and I’ll release you,” Tony said to Sly.

“Cool, I’m cool.”

Tony let him go.

“Hey, Derrick, think I’ll stick around, just in case this guy decides to cause any more trouble tonight.”

Sly’s attention remained intent on Derrick. “So, doc, if you have Angel, why’s some old dude coming around here claiming she’s with him and asking me to go with him?”

“I don’t know,” Derrick said, looking at Tony, and then he reached into the RV. He opened his medical bag. “Want me to fix that?” He pointed to Sly’s left side.

“Yeah, is it gonna hurt?” Sly walked toward Derrick with Tony attached at his hip.

Derrick didn’t know Sly’s propensity toward violence, but considering the guy had attacked him once, having Tony in the vicinity was a good thing, especially after a knife fight, when Sly’s adrenaline was probably pumping through his veins along with his concern for Angel. He treated Sly’s wound with caution. At least he wouldn’t have to watch his back with Tony here. Working without a volunteer left him vulnerable, but most of the kids appreciated his help. He suspected he could turn Sly’s tough guy attitude around, too.

Sly lifted his crummy T-shirt, and Derrick examined the gash. Blood leaked from the cut. “You’ll feel a sting when I clean it with antiseptic.” Derrick cleaned the area and examined the wound’s severity. “Hopefully, you won’t need stitches.”

“What?” Sly asked, sucking in his stomach away from Derrick. “Never mind. When do I get my girl back?” He winced. Derrick swabbed the two-inch gash slashed into his side. “Ouch.”

“That’s the sting. You’re lucky it’s just a flesh wound. I’ll put a butterfly bandage on it to hold it together, but you’ll need to clean it and disinfect it daily and keep it covered with a bandage so you don’t get it infected.”

“Okay, okay. You still didn’t answer my question. When is Angel coming back?”

Derrick looked up at Sly and met his concerned eyes. “Sounds like you miss her. She’ll be better in two or three days, and I’ll drop her off here.”

Sly let out a loud exhale. Derrick wasn’t sure if he was sighing in relief because Angel would be reunited with Sly or because he’d finished cleansing the gash in his side. Derrick could tell how much Sly cared for Angel from the worried look in his eyes. Even though he’d offered her up for a hundred bucks, Derrick figured Sly wasn’t quite the tough guy he pretended to be that night on the beach. Most kids wouldn’t confide in the police, but Sly had expressed his concern to Tony over his missing girlfriend.

“I’ve got the bandage on, but you need to ditch the bloody shirt. I’ll give you a clean one.”

Sly put the bottom of the T-shirt he’d been holding up with his hand in his mouth and shrugged out of the denim jacket. Derrick extended his hand, offering to dispose of the bloodied shirt.

“I’ll put this in my contamination container and get you a fresh T-shirt.”

Inside the RV was a red trash receptacle labeled
Contaminated
in heavy black letters, he dropped the shirt inside. Derrick snapped off the latex gloves and dumped them into the same receptacle. Dealing with blood always concerned him, no matter whom he treated. He scrubbed his hands up to his elbows with disinfecting soap and dried them with a sterile white towel, and then opened the cupboard door to the cabinet. Sly needed to keep that cut clean, so Derrick decided to give him a few shirts. He couldn’t spare more. Next, he grabbed a small brown paper bag and filled it with a small tube of antibiotic ointment and breathable bandages. He added a toothbrush and toothpaste.

“Sly, here’s some stuff to take care of the cut. Remember, keep it clean. Most public bathrooms have antibacterial soap, so wash it with that, dry it well, and then apply some of this ointment and bandage it again. I’m here on Wednesdays. If you want, stop in, and I’ll check it for you. By the time you see Angel, you should be all better.”

“Cool.”

“Hey, Sly, who were you fighting with?”

“Not important, doc, just some jerk talkin’ shit about my girl. I’m just glad she’s okay.”

Derrick scratched his head, deciding if he should ask the question on the tip of his tongue. “Is the other guy hurt?”

“No. He had the knife, not me,” Sly said, directing his reply to Tony, who stood nearby.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Tony asked Derrick.