Vigilare (11 page)

Her belly growls, timely. She pats it. “Right now, the only appetite I have is for lunch.” She throws her arm in Randall’s direction. “Have it your way, Gronkowski. He’s all yours. I’ll follow up on Aubrey Raines. You want me to bring you something from The Fish Market?”

“What are you having?”

“
My Oh Mahi Fish Tacos
.”

He grins at the name.

“What?” Gina holds back a smile, rolling her eyes. “Do you want something, or not?”

“Dozen oysters on the half.”

“What! I’m not bringing oysters back to the station.”

“Gotta keep my libido fed,” he teases, shrugging his shoulders.

“Why? So it can keep up with your ego. God knows that thing’s always full.” She turns, walking away.

“I’ll eat whatever you bring me,” he calls after her.

“That’s what I thought.” She stops momentarily, turning back to him, holding up her hand, exhibiting five fingers. “Five times, Gronkowski. Wouldn’t want you short-changing me.” She pivots with military precision, proceeding on her way.

Tony watches her, zoning in on the easy confidence she displays with each effortless step.

Officer Marks, an eyewitness to the scene, in passing Tony in the hallway can’t help but comment. “Might as well forget it, Gronkowski. That one there, she’s all work, no play.”

Tony clutches his chest, over his heart melodramatically, ragging on Marks. “You get any pictures of Wonder Woman?”

“Nope,” Marks dismisses him.

“What’s the matter? Afraid she’d break your camera?” Tony chuckles, following after him, making his way back to Randall Barnes.

Marks says nothing, never losing stride. He simply raises his hand over his head, flipping Tony the bird.

“Hey don’t be sore, man. I hear they’re bringing Catwoman in on a crane,” he yells after him as Marks disappears around the corner. He continues his quiet, self-entertaining banter until he makes it back to the desk. “Alright, you can turn around now.” He takes a seat across from Randall.

“Is it true? The Vigilare? I saw it on the news this morning,” Randall questions, his leg bouncing up and down with the jitters.

“What happened last night?” Tony asks with deep-seated annoyance in his tone, ignoring Randall’s inquiry.

“Someone’s trying to kill me. I think it might be that Vigilare. Do you think that thing has superpowers?” Randall continues to fidget, rolling a pen between his fingers.

“What’s the matter? Feel out of place for you...being the prey?” Tony leans across the desk, his hands firmly folding one into the other.

“Is there someone else I can talk to?” Randall grows agitated.

“Nope. My case. My terms. My rules.” Tony leans back in his chair, satisfied. “You've got five seconds to tell me something that captivates my interest.”

“Someone tried to kill me last night.”

“You already said that. I don’t find that particularly interesting or surprising. Five, four...”

“They’re trying to get even,” Randall blurts, pausing before warily continuing. “I was in the elevator. In my apartment. They shut the whole freaking thing down. Turned the lights out and everything. Dropped my ass from fifty feet in the air.”

Tony smiles. “Sorry I missed that.”

“This is bullshit, man!” Randall jumps up from his chair. “I thought you guys were supposed to help people.”

Tony kicks his feet up on the desk nonchalantly. “What did you do? For them to get even?”

“It was years ago. Doesn’t matter what I did. I have rights, you know. You have to help me. I’ll sue.” He paces.

“I don’t
have
to do shit. And if you want to sue, take a number. Either you start talking, on the level, or get the hell out of my sight.” Tony scuffs his feet off the desk quickly, beginning to stand.

A startled Randall flops himself into the chair across from Tony. “Okay, okay. Years ago, I was arrested for molesting my girlfriend’s son.” He looks around, ducking his upper body lower to the desktop, maintaining a mild voice. “In the elevator, when I would bring him back to the apartment after school.”

Tony’s jaw twitches involuntarily.

Randall picks up the pace of confession, attempting to spit it all out before Tony unleashes on him. “Last night...this distorted voice...someone was in the elevator shaft. They knew about the little boy.”

“The voice. Male or female?”

Randall’s eyes shift to the right with his thought. “Male. Maybe. I don’t know. It was distorted. Deep, heavy breathing.”

“Darth Vader’s trying to kill you? Seems a little far-fetched,” Tony taunts, unable to contain himself.

Randall rolls his eyes, continuing. “Said they were there for my soul. It was just a matter of time. They’re gonna kill me. This isn’t funny!” He slams his fist down on the desk.

Tony shrugs his shoulders as if to say,
That’s debatable
.

“Bible quotes,” Randall remembers. “They quoted the Bible. Reaping what I sow. Some really freaky shit. Cat got your tongue. Taunting me. Like they got off on it.”

Tony repeats aloud, “Cat got your tongue...cat got your tongue. Where did I hear that?” His memory searches, snapshots and voices quickly assemble until he hears Dr. Patricia Ryan’s voice from the City Hall protest earlier that morning.
What’s the matter, Detective DeLuca, cat got your tongue?
Her words echo repetitively in his mind. “I knew it!” He jumps up out of his chair with renewed satisfaction and confidence in his initial instinct that Dr. Ryan was somehow involved in the string of murders. “Get up,” he barks at Randall.

“Where we going?” Randall stands attentively.

“
We’re
not going anywhere. You’re leaving.” He takes off walking at an intense pace. Randall follows, of course.

“What are you going to do? Can I get some kinda police protection, or something?”

“Ha! Yeah, that’s going to happen,” Tony dismisses.

“You can’t leave me alone. You have to do something. Can’t you put me in a cell for the night? Something? Until you catch this murderer.”

Tony turns around sharply. Randall follows so closely behind, he runs into him, stumbling backward. Tony’s finger pounds into Randall’s chest, scoldingly. “You spend too much time with shit, it’s bound to rub off. You’re shit. Toxic excrement, a waste of human life.” His teeth gritting together at this point. “I don’t like you. You’re right, I have to do something. Sadly, in this case, I’m bound to uphold the law. But I don’t have to do a goddamned thing for you.” He pulls himself together, retracting his finger from its intrusive encounter with Randall’s chest. He smiles contentedly, breathing heavily and deeply with great audibility, displaying his best Darth Vader impersonation. “I'm in no hurry to find Vader. Hope
she
gets to you before I get to her.” Tony winks, pushing past Randall.

Chapter 7

At the top of the bell tower I wait,

Streets lined below, believers rush in,

Praying for their salvation at Heaven’s Gate.

My eyes green and quiet in the night,

Weary for the innocent, sleep, sweet baby, sleep,

With one drop of blood, a shining emerald light.

Images of faces flash like a timeline,

A man, a boy, so close I keep them,

The feeling that once they were mine.

Why do I do this, only time will tell,

Am I a hero, a savior?

Or no better than the evils that I quell?

Did you hear that? From down below evil speaks,

He paces, justifying his desire,

He is one of them, the soulless that I seek.

RANDALL BARNES PACES, his shoes squeaking with each turn on the linoleum kitchen floor in his girlfriend’s apartment. He mumbles to himself, a mix of fear and anger. “Stupid cocksucker, pointing his finger in my chest. I should’ve punched his lights out.” He lightly taps his fists against the counter, connecting the second time with a little more force, testing his own bravery. “Nobody wants to help me. This is all that damn doctor’s fault...Dr. Ryan. I should’ve spread her legs when I had the chance. Stupid bitch.”

“Night Randall,” Tessa, his girlfriend’s fifteen-year-old daughter calls to him as she walks from the bathroom to her bedroom.

“Night Tess,” he speaks up, making his way to the living room, ogling her as she walks away from him. Her long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wears pink cotton pajamas. He circles the living room couch, his thoughts racing. “I asked for help. Nobody wants to help me,” he reasons. Shifting his eyes intermittently to Tess’ bedroom. “Maybe I’ll help myself.”

Tessa turns her light out, pulling the blankets up around her body. An eerie feeling sweeps over her, as she jerks her head up from her pillow, eyeing the doorway. “Randall?”

He smiles coyly as he stands, leaning up against the door casing. “Thought I’d tuck you in.”

“I’m good,” she says quickly. “G’night.” She grips her covers in her hands, holding them tightly across her shoulders.

Randall walks to her, sitting down beside her on the bed, he puts one arm across her waist. With the other hand, he strokes her hair back, away from her face. “You’re so pretty, Tess. So innocent. The world hasn’t ruined you, yet.”

She shies away from his hand, edging closer to the wall. The look on her face is painfully fearful.

He smiles. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Tess. I would never hurt you. I just want to be close to you.” He pulls her body away from the wall, toward him.

Her heart feels as if it will jump out of her ribcage. Her palms instantly turn sweaty.

“You ever been with a boy, Tess?”

She shakes her head, holding back the urge to cry, pursing her lips together.

Randall strokes her face, allowing his hand to come to rest on her neck, inching its way toward her chest. “You’re a good girl, Tess.” He runs his hand ever so slowly down her stomach, continuing until he settles over her thigh, massaging her. “You wanna be with me? I could show you how to do it. It might be good for you. Then you’d know what to do when you found a boy you wanted to be with.”

Again, she shakes her head, vehemently. Her voice mute. Tears escape, streaming down over the apples of her cheeks.

“I know, baby.” Randall wipes at her tears with his icy hand. “It’s scary, huh? But it feels amazing. I’ll take my time with you.” He smiles. “You’re gonna love it, baby.”

ON THE STREET below, Detective Gronkowski and Officer Marks enjoy a stakeout, purposely concocted to follow Randall and inadvertently anyone who may be following him. Their police cruiser is filled with protein bars and energy drinks.

Marks bites into his chocolate peanut butter protein bar, his taste buds instantly disappointed. “Aw yuck! Come on Gronkowski. Where’s the donuts? Coffee? Something?” He searches for something to wash it down.

Tony chuckles, handing him an energy drink. “You beat cops, man. You’re soft. How do you expect to rise to the occasion with all that sugar and caffeine in your system? That shit makes you slow and fat.” He talks in between bites of his protein bar, seemingly unbothered by the taste.

Marks cracks open the energy drink. “Yeah, because this doesn’t have any sugar or caffeine,” he ridicules, taking a swig. “Aw God,” he spits and sputters. “That shit tastes like cough syrup.” He coughs, opening his door, pouring the drink out onto the concrete.

“Close the door,” Tony barks. “You’ll draw attention to us.”

Marks pulls the door back, throwing the can on the floorboard. “And again, just exactly why am I here? You have a partner. She’d be pissed if she knew you were out here on this case with me.”

“She needs a night off. We’ve had a rough couple of days.”

“DeLuca didn’t take the night off. She doesn’t know you’re here, does she?”

Tony wads up his wrapper, throwing it over his shoulder into the backseat. “No, she doesn’t. And don’t go running your mouth, Marks. Did you see her eye and her neck? All this Vigilare drama. She’s been put through the wringer. She needs a night off.” He tunes the radio to a different station. “Nothing she could do here tonight, anyway.”

“She’s getting to ya, isn’t she?” Marks smiles. “Ah, Gronkowski’s got the hots for his partner.” He slaps the dashboard fully satisfied with his conclusion.

“Whatever, man.” Tony chugs down some of his energy drink, formulating his thoughts. “It’s sheer respect. She deserves...needs a night off. I’d do the same thing for you.”

“Shit!” Marks laughs. “No you wouldn’t, or I wouldn’t be out here with you right now. I need the night off, too, but it sure didn’t hurt your feelings to ask me. You’re so full of shit.”

Neither one of them speaks momentarily.

“Can’t say I blame ya, man. The girl is fine.” He uses his hands miming the curvaceous flow of a woman’s body. “I’d let her kick my ass, and like it. Whew!”

“You strange. Something’s wrong with you, man.” Tony purposely turns the focus away from Gina to Marks.

Marks’ eyebrows raise with enlightenment. “You hitting that, Gronkowski?”

Displeased with such reference, Tony’s eyes dart in his direction, a cool warning to maintain respectful mention of his superior, the woman who outranks him.

Marks throws his hands up at shoulder level, a sign of apology, no harm meant. He smiles, shaking his head. “You and DeLuca? Didn’t see that one coming.”

“You talk too much,” Tony quips as he spots a black silhouette scaling the apartment building. “That’s why you don’t ever see anything coming.” He bails out of the car.

“Where you going?”

“Stay put. I’ll call if I need backup.” And he’s off into the night.

“NO. PLEASE,” TESSA begs, sitting up against her headboard, pulling the covers with her, snugly around her neck. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Tess, you can trust me,” Randall coaxes, moving closer to her.