Coaster (8 page)

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The woman felt cold all the time. No matter how many sweaters she wore, she still felt chills running through her body. She thought that maybe things wou
ld start to get better, slowly. Perhaps the dullness would take over the abysmal hurt. But it didn't. She still felt every waking moment like someone had punched her hard in the stomach. She walked like the living dead. That's what she was - the living dead.

People always say time heals. But how much time was it going to take to heal the loss of her child and her grandchildren? How much time was it going to take to make her ever feel like smiling again? It couldn't be possible. She felt the tears on her cheeks. She stood looking out the window feeling cold.

             
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The man s
tood in his garage. He watched her standing at the window. She stood there every day for almost three hours before she would move. He didn't know what to do.

He opened the cabinet and took out the bottle filled with brown liquid. He knew he shouldn't do this. He knew what happened before. But he could
n't handle his life right now. Couldn't handle not only the pain of loss, but the deterioration of his wife and her mind. She was losing it and he didn't know what to do to stop it. He couldn't fix this because it was too broken. He took a swig and felt the brown liquid burn as it moved down his throat. His taste buds remembered and celebrated. He took another swig from the bottle and this time he started coughing. He recovered and took another long drink from the bottle. The familiar warmth began in his stomach. It stirred up the acid and for a moment he thought he might vomit. But quickly he recovered and felt the beloved dullness begin to seep into his blood. The old man felt the blood flowing and depositing the warmth of the booze as it moved. It felt like coming home. For an instant he felt happy. It was going to work.

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James walked through the lobby. His gait was steady and he looked the picture of English aristocracy. His suit was the best quality and cut perfectly for him. He was still a good looking man, even with a bit of a jowl and some extra padding. He kept his steps slow even though he really wanted to run to the car. Regina was waiting in the car. He was going to be able to hold her, kiss her,
and feel her body against his. That was what was driving him forward. And being able to leave Diana to her sobbing. He knew it was horrible that he wasn't more compassionate to her pain. But he just couldn't sit there and cry all day long. She had to run out of tears sometime.

They had to do something. He was pisse
d and wanted heads to roll. Diana was simply crying and railing on about how she should have been a better mother and been more involved. He couldn't take it anymore. He'd told Regina she had to come or he might just suffocate Diana with a pillow in her sleep. He stumbled a bit on the rug as he realized how callous that sounded in his head. Recovering quickly he hurried his pace when he saw the outline in the limousine window. Regina was here. Regina was waiting.

             
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James
thought she didn't know about his mistress. Truth was she didn't care and never had.

James was arrogant, haughty, and intelligent. Not a winning combi
nation for a happy marriage. Diana had always felt a kindred spirit to the princess who died, besides just having the same name, she felt they'd probably had similar marriages.

Diana
had been enamored of James when she first met him, but once she got to know him she found out he had feet of clay. They didn't specifically arrange marriages nowadays in the royal lines, but James came highly recommended by a friend of her fathers. What her father didn't know was that James family had shady secrets. Well, what family with money didn't? But now it all didn't matter. Even though her children had been the best thing about the marriage, she had never really appreciated them the way she should have. She had always been so big on doing and being the right thing. Getting to know her kids always seemed like something she could do later. Now it was too late. She began crying again.

What was she going to do?
Not only had she lost her children, but marriages like hers didn't end in divorce, instead they were supposed to dotter on pretending to be happy until someone died. But the death here was more significant and Diana couldn't help but realize that what she really needed was tea and thought. James leaving her here for the day meant she had to face some things. She lifted the receiver. The operator answered her with just a twinge of pity in her voice, obviously the hotel staff had chatted about their predicament.

"I'd like some tea and scones sent up ple
ase." Diana knew it was a stereotype, but she didn't care. Tea and scones soothed her and strangely enough allowed her to think more clearly.

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The man was ready to board the airplane. No one noticed him. No one knew what he'd done. He stood there among the people getting on the plane and only he knew his secret. It made him feel good, and he held his knowledge in his heart like a kernel of success. It warmed him. It fed him. He felt better. The corporation was suffering now. The park was still closed and the investigation didn't seem to be sniffing anywhere near him. How could it? He'd been so clever. He'd taken time to figure out every detail. They would never find him. The flight attendant called his row, he picked up his bag and got in line. As he handed her his ticket he looked back briefly and smiled. Success was good.

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La Rosa and Kincaid had been holed up in the room for an entire day going over the files on the table. They had almost five hundred employees to look through who had worked at the park during the last year. It seemed there was a rotating door at the park entrance where people would work for as little as four days before either quitting or getting fired. It was becoming amazingly clear that a bomber could waltz into the park without anyone knowing anything.

"This place is incredible."

"Yeah, they really had a lot of losers working there." Kincaid shuffled through another page. He seemed disinterested. "You know La Rosa, we're looking for a needle in a haystack here."

"No. It's a lead
. Let's think this through. To make an IED would mean you need stuff that you'd have to be at least a certain age and brain level to get, right?"

"In theory, yes. But you know that isn't always true. I mean look at some of the idiots that manage to do damage around here."

"I know. But what was done here took some time, planning, and someone with intelligence." La Rosa got quiet and looked at the printouts. "That means we need to look at someone that spent enough time at the park not to be too suspicious. I mean, if they just came in and worked for a few days that would be obvious and they would definitely be looked at during an investigation. Right?"

Kincaid shrugged. "Probably. So we can cross out the teenage kids who only worked a few days. That tak
es the list down significantly." He shook his head. "What's wrong with these kids nowadays anyway? I worked fast food all through high school. Most of these kids don't even last a week."

La R
osa agreed and frowned. "Not the focus, but you're right.  Okay, so let's have them make a new list taking off anyone under the age of twenty that worked less than two weeks."

Kincaid stood and stretched.
"I'm on it. Do you want anything while I'm up?"

"No thanks. Can you shut the door
? I want to make a call."

Kincaid raised his eyebrows. "Anyone I know?"

La Rosa rolled her eyes as Kincaid left the room shutting the door behind him. She pulled the card from her pocket and set it on the table. Then she dialed the number from a file in front of her. The ringing began and she cleared her throat.

"Hello, Mr.
Frank. This is Detective La Rosa. I brought your daughter, Lindy, home from the park." She paused as he responded. "I wanted to give you a number of a counselor that deals with trauma cases like this. He's really good and it would be wise to have Lindy talk to him. Do you have a pen?"

La
Rosa sighed. She could hear the worry in his voice. She hoped he called right away. Her experience told her that things hadn't gotten much better with Lindy.

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Roger Merit was uncomfortable. The suit he was wearing was binding and he hated ties. He was sitting in a leather chair in a huge office where it looked like the Old Boys Club met regularly. The window to the side of him had a view of downtown Los Angeles and he felt unprepared for what was about to happen. He cleared his throat and wished he could undo the tie.

The door opened and a man in his
sixties entered. He had the air of someone who had too much to do. His secretary followed him in with files in her hands. As he sat down, she opened one at a time for him to sign. She never looked at Roger, but after the man had finished signing she leaned down and spoke in a whisper. He nodded and she left.

"Mr. Merit. So you're married to Trish, eh?" He looked at the file and then up at Roger.

"Was." Roger said softly.

"Was. Oh, I'
m sorry. I had it down here that you were married to her. Well, that makes more sense doesn't it?"

Roger tensed up
and thought,
did he just say that out loud
?

"
I understand you are in some trouble with this whole debacle up at the amusement park. Why don't you tell me about it?" He leaned back in his chair and looked at Roger.

Roger instantly felt nervous. "Well, I came to you because I feel like the corporation is going to try to find a fall guy
, and they've pretty much decided that I'm that guy. I'm not familiar with all the corporate scheming. I'm just a mechanic. I'm not stupid. But they're out of my league playing games I don't get." He paused and took a breath. "Look, one of the detectives told me I should get a good lawyer. Trish works here and recommended you. I just want to be safe."

The man nodded. "Roger, can I be blunt?"

"Yes, I'd prefer that."

"Here's the situation. You are up against a large mu
lti-billion dollar corporation and they have deep pockets, my boy. What you also have is a huge amount of exposure for not only our country, but internationally, as two of the deceased were related to the Queen. So that's not good for you. But worst of all, you have the political powers that be in this town up in arms over the demise of the coffers being filled by this attraction. That means you have a target on you as big as a buck standing in a field on the opening day of deer hunting season. Understand?"

Roger stared at him.

The man put his hands together and continued. "So, being blunt, you will have a hard time finding a good lawyer to handle this case. It's way too controversial. The mayor is hot for a scapegoat and you're it. Any lawyer worth his salt in this town is not going to do anything to piss off the mayor. And contrary to opinion, we big guns don't like the fire under our seat. So, if I were you I would get busy finding the biggest and most successful ambulance chaser to be your attorney.

The man paused and took a breath. Letting it out slowly he then shuffled some papers on the desk. "Look bottom line is y
ou need a reckless but intelligent fool to take your case. Of course if you tell anyone I said any of this I will sue you for libel. But those are the bare facts. I feel for you, my boy, I truly do."

Roger sat with his mouth hanging open. He cleared his throat and said, "Well, I guess I should thank you for saying out loud what I didn't want to hear. I don't suppose you might know someone who fits the bill, do you?"

"Now son, do you really think I associate with individuals as I so described to you?"

"Actually, I do."

The man laughed. "Thanks for coming in. I hope you find who you need and I wish you the best."

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Chapter Eleven

Detective La Rosa put her arms up and stretched. She was sore and tired and really wanted a hot shower. Her partner, Kincaid, had left about three hours ago. It was late and she felt discouraged at the amount of people she still had left on the list. She stood up and gathered her things. As she moved into the precinct, she cracked her neck. She headed to the front door saying goodbye to the Sergeant at the desk. He waved her back.

"La Rosa, that guy has been waiting for you for the last hour." He nodded at a man in a suit sitting on the bench.