by Cathy Roberts
John sat in a chair by the pool, trying to keep his memories at bay and his thoughts idle for just a short while. He dreaded the idea of driving back home, but he also didn't want to stay here all night. He glanced up as his father sat in the chair beside him.
"I know you think we're some kind of monsters for not believing in Joe's innocence, John. We have our reasons."
"And they are?"
"Let me ask you something before I go into that. Did Bobby ever tell you that Joe was doing anything inappropriate with him?"
John shook his head, knowing that he couldn't reply, "Besides murdering him?" to his father.
"I know that you and Bobby were close. Brothers often are. I had hoped that he had shared his secrets with you."
"What secrets?" John asked, sitting up straight as he tried to figure out what his father was talking about.
"When Bobby died, your Mom and I just boxed up all his belongings. We didn't have the desire to go through them back then. A few months ago, the last time we were in town, we got down those boxes."
"I remember. You gave me a few of his things."
"Yes. There were some items that other people had given to Bobby and we offered them back to the people who had given them to him. Casey had given Bobby a couple of books and we gave them back to her. A few weeks ago, she called me to tell me that she had found something disturbing in one of the books. She flew out to Bangkok and showed me what she had found. It was a piece of paper, part of a letter I guess. Bobby was relating...things that Joe had done, apparently to him. I guess Bobby had put it in the book for safekeeping, intending to give it to me. He died before he could though. It was dated the day he died."
John could feel Roland's eyes boring into him as he digested the information. Bobby had written down some of what he had told him, but had not mentioned his name. So, Roland and Casey thought that Joe had molested Bobby.
"I had no idea," John softly replied.
"I was hoping that Bobby had confided in you. But, then again, I knew that if he had, you would have told me a long time ago about the sexual abuse. The only ones who know about this are Casey, Branch and I. And now you."
"How did Uncle Branch get involved?"
"I asked him about Chase. I figured that if Joe had molested Bobby, then he might have also molested Chase and you."
"What did he say?"
"He's afraid that it might be part of the reason why Chase turned to heroin. I already heard that you told Detective Morgan that Joe never touched you."
John remembered that he had said no such thing. He had never answered the man's questions. Still, if that was what his father believed, then he didn't see the harm in letting him think that.
"John, we have got to find a way to stop the police investigation."
"I know. It's really tearing Aunt Emily apart."
"It can also tear this entire family apart."
John looked up sharply as he heard the tone in his father's voice. Then it hit him hard - his father and maybe his uncle and cousin, had been involved in Joe's death. A death that Joe had ordered him to avenge.
"Are you telling me that you killed Uncle Joe? You were in Bangkok when it happened, right?"
"Your mother and I had just returned to Paris when we heard about Joe's death. Branch was still in Bangkok and Casey was in Ohio."
John remembered Joe saying that he didn't recognize the young man who had killed him and his theory that it was a hired killer. John suddenly wondered about the man who had driven Casey home.
"Killers can be bought, Dad."
Roland simply nodded and John knew that his father was somehow connected to Joe's death. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach, despite the fact that he had barely eaten anything all day. He leaned over and put his head between his legs, hoping the feeling would go away.
He felt Roland's hand upon the back of his neck. "I know it's difficult to hear, John, but Joe really was an evil man."
"You have no idea, Dad," he thought, but he kept quiet. There was no reason to make this any worse than it already was.
"This has been hard for all of us. Casey is devastated and so angry with her father over this. And I...Hell, John, I don't know exactly how I feel. I trusted Joe. We let you kids stay with him and Emily a lot. I never had any reason to doubt that he was good to my children. And now I find myself remembering all the times he took you boys fishing up in Michigan. And the fact that he was there when Bobby died. How hard it must have been for Bobby to die with his abuser there with him. And no one else." Roland drew in a quivering breath. "And then I wonder if Bobby really died from the leukemia. He was about to tell on Joe. What if Joe knew that? Don't abusers threaten their victims?"
"Why are you asking me?"
"You work in an emergency room, I'm sure you see more than your fair share of abused children.""
"The ones we see are usually those who have been physically abused, most often by their own parents. That's bad enough." John finally felt a little better and he sat up. He was afraid to look at his father though. Afraid that Roland would look at him and see that he had been Joe's victim and not Bobby. He had to find some way to stop the police investigation, restore Joe's good memory to his Aunt Emily, and be able to tell Joe that he had found his killers without having Joe go after them. He didn't think that Joe would do anything to harm Casey, but he wasn't so sure about his Uncle Branch and his father. If only he had not had an alibi for the time of Joe's death, then he could confess to murdering him and put an end to all this. Maybe he could still do that - claim he hired someone - a homeless, nameless person maybe - to kill Joe. But what could he claim for a motive? If he said that it was because he thought Joe guilty of the charges against him, then that didn't do anything to help restore his good name. John shook his head, sure that his father wouldn't let him get away with confessing to Joe's murder.
"I know that you looked up to your uncle, and I'm sorry I had to tell you this. I just didn't want you thinking that Casey was a monster for not being upset enough over her father's death."
"I never thought that."
"It was in your eyes, Johnny."
"Are you going to tell everyone else about this?"
"I don't know. I guess that will depend a lot on how the police investigation goes."
"It needs to be stopped."
"I know that. I've got more than a few friends in high places within the department and I intend to speak with them. At the very least, I want Emily to be able to bury her husband as soon as possible."
"They're not going to allow you to just sweep this under the rug, Dad."
"They might. If only the fingerprints had not been wiped clean, then there wouldn't be an investigation right now."
John suddenly had an idea. "Why not claim that Joe hired someone to kill him since he couldn't live with himself any longer but didn't have the courage to kill himself?"
Roland considered that for a moment. "That might work. I'll speak with Branch about it."
"It's preferable to having an innocent person get arrested for his murder."
"Yes. Well, it's getting late and your mother wants to get home. What about you?"
"I think I'll head on home now, too. I've got to be to work by six in the morning."
"You look tired. Are you sure you feel up to driving?"
"I'm fine. Really. I'll drive extra carefully."
"We could always drive you home."
"It's out of your way, Dad. I'll be fine."
"Will you call me once you get home so I know you made it there safely?"
"I will." They both stood, then went into the house to say their good-byes.
The ride home was quiet. John spent most of it on edge, waiting for Joe to appear at any moment. Had he been there when Roland was telling him about Bobby? John hoped not. He didn't want to wake up in the morning to discover that his father had died during the night. But, he made it home without incident. He went straight to his room, falling across the bed to rest for a few moments before actually getting ready for bed. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.
The night passed without incident, although John kept waking up every time he heard a noise. As it was, he didn't get much sleep at all. The next morning, John packed up some clothing and personal hygiene items for Kerry, then left early for work. Once at the hospital, he went directly to Kerry's room, hoping to have time to visit with her before his shift began. He planned to ask Mark to let him take the time later to take Kerry home and he knew that Mark would grant that request.
John stopped short in the doorway of Kerry's room. Even though visitor hours had not yet begun, she had company. It was that police detective, Clark Morgan.
"Sorry, I didn't know you had company," he commented dryly. He didn't know what bothered him most - the fact that the detective was bugging Kerry so early in the morning or the fact that Kerry wasn't acting as if she was being bugged. She seemed to be enjoying the man's visit. As if.
"John, come on in. I don't suppose the people have called about repairing the air conditioner have they?"
"Not yet. They probably aren't open yet. I think that only doctors and police officers get to work this early." John didn't even bother to greet the police officer. He didn't want to give the man a chance to ask him any more questions. Not after what his father had revealed to him last night.
"I stopped by downstairs this morning to talk with Ms. Marquez again and found out that Kerry was in the hospital. I couldn't leave without making sure she was all right." The detective smiled at Kerry, who actually blushed under his gaze.
John was tempted to throw up. Couldn't Kerry see that this guy was just playing up to her in order to find out more information for his case?
"I brought you some clothing and other things. I was going to ask Mark to let me take a few hours off later to take you home."
"That's sweet of you, but unnecessary. Clark has already offered to take me home later," Kerry smiled at John, but he felt his heart grow cold at those words. So, Kerry didn't need him. Big deal. It wasn't as if they were a couple or anything. They were just roommates. Hell, they weren't really that either. She was his landlady. Pure and simple. Landlady and supervisor. Boss. She could do what she wanted with whomever she wanted. He just didn't want to be around while she was doing it.
"I need to get back downstairs." He put the suitcase down, then left.
"I don't think he likes me much," Clark commented.
"He's just upset over his uncle's death, that's all," Kerry explained.
"What has he told you about our investigation?"
"Just that the police suspected that the man was murdered and didn't commit suicide. Why? Is there more to it?"
"A little. Kerry, have you ever been trained to recognize adults who have been sexually abused as children?"
"Recognize in what way? You're asking that as if they all look or behave outside the norm. Many abuse victims grow up to live fairly normal lives. True, some of them never get past the trauma and the pain and end up becoming substance abusers, but a lot of them are able to function normally."
"Normally enough to get medical degrees?"
Kerry's eyes narrowed. "Are you trying to imply that John was abused as a child?"
"That possibility has crossed my mind, Kerry. I asked him, but he never answered me. Joseph Thielen had been accused of sexually molesting a child. A boy who he was working with in the Big Brothers program. The parents dropped the charges after Jacob Carter offered them quite a substantial amount of money. We are still investigating that case though, in light of Mr. Thielen's death."
"So everyone is a suspect then?"
"That's right. Of course, John Carter has you for an alibi for the time of the murder, but not everyone in his family is that lucky, and even those who do have alibis could have always paid someone else to do the deed. There's also the possibility that the father or another relative of the victim decided that money or no money, Joseph Thielen was going to pay for his crimes."
"It must be a horrible life you lead, Clark."
"What do you mean?"
"You always think the worst of people, don't you?"
He slowly nodded. "In my job, I have to."
"How sad."
By mid morning, it was quiet in the emergency room and John crept away to an empty room to try to nap. He had just fallen asleep when he heard someone call his name. He was instantly awake, at first thinking that he was being called for a trauma, but the door to the room was closed.
A shiver swept through his body as he heard his name again. It was Joe. God, was there any place he could go where the ghost of that man could not find him?
"What?" he snapped.
"Don't take that tone with me, Johnny. I left you alone all night and most of the morning. I just wanted to see if you had figured out a way to put a stop to this inane investigation."
"Not yet. I'm still thinking."
"And does this also mean that you aren't any closer to finding out who did kill me?"
"I'm narrowing it down."
"There are a lot of your friends here, Johnny. I don't want to have to hurt any of them just to get you to do the simple things I asked of you."
"You don't have to do that."
"I was thinking that you should try to get in on that detective's good side. He might let something slip - clues that you can follow up on."
"I'll consider that. He thinks you were guilty of molesting that boy."
"He's a cop. They always think ill of people."
"What will you do when you find out who killed you?"
"Get my revenge of course."
"And what if the person behind your murder turns out to be someone unexpected? Say for instance, that Casey hired someone to kill you."
Joe laughed for a long time at that. "You're really funny, Johnny. My little girl would never dream of doing anything to hurt me. She has always been daddy's little girl and she has always adored me."
"And you never touched her?"
"That's an ugly thing to ask, Johnny. She's my own flesh and blood, why would I do that? Besides," John could hear the leer in Joe's voice, "I much prefer young boys to young girls."
And then there was silence again. John could hear his heart beating rapidly, a sign of the fear and loathing he had for that man. All of his friends were in danger and John didn't know what to do about that. He had to find someway to make Joe think that no one here at County mattered to him. That no one at all mattered. Why was it that people who came in contact with him always ended up getting hurt in some way? Had Joe's inherent evil rubbed off on him over the years?
By the time that his shift was over, John was more than ready to go home. Being mean toward his co-workers was not something that came easily to him and it had hurt him each time he said or did something that hurt one of them. But, it was worth the pain if it kept them from harm.
The El was crowded and hot and he wasn't looking forward to going inside once he reached the house. He knew it would be hot inside. He was beginning to doubt if the air conditioning system would ever get repaired. Maybe there was some way he could send his Uncle Joe to haunt the repair people? Put a scare into them so they would put Kerry's house at the top of the list.
He opened the door and was immediately revived by the cool air that swept over him. The air conditioner was back.
Kerry sat on the couch and she smiled as he came in.
"Guess who showed up this afternoon?" she asked.
"It's about time. It feels wonderful in here," he sat down. "So, are you feeling all right? Can I get you anything?"
She smiled. "I'm fine, John. I left the hospital before noon and on the way home, Clark pulled through a fast food drive-thru. Do you feel up to making dinner for us?"
"That all depends on whether I have to actually cook anything or if there's something I can heat up and serve." He grinned.
"I believe that there's leftover lasagna in the freezer and vegetables for a salad in the fridge."
"I can handle that. I'll stick the lasagna in the oven, then grab a quick shower before making the salad."
"Okay."
When he came back upstairs to fix the salad, Kerry was now in the kitchen, seated on a stool. He was glad to see that, because he had been afraid that she would try to help with dinner. She had been told to rest once she got home and he was determined to make sure that she did just that.
"I can help cut vegetables," she offered.
"I think I can handle it. Unless you want your cucumbers seeded", he joked.
She laughed, remembering how he had tried to use a knife - a large knife, no less, to seed a cucumber once.
"I can handle eating the seeds."
"Good."
She asked him about his day and they talked about work for a little while. Then dinner was ready. John quickly set the table and they sat down to eat.
"I'll run out tonight to get a new door for the bathroom," he said.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you that Clark is taking care of that for me. He's supposed to come by around eight to install a new door."
John bristled at that news. "Is there anything else that the amazing Detective Morgan is doing for you?"
"You don't have to be so nasty, John. He's just trying to be nice. I think he wants to go out with me."
"Pump you for information is more like it," he scoffed.
Kerry speared a chunk of tomato, afraid that John might be right about that. Clark really had no business telling her about his suspicions that John had been molested as a child. Maybe he thought that she would ask John about it and then provide him with confirmation for his theory.
"He told me that your uncle had been under investigation on molestation harges."
His body stiffened and his eyes reflected his anger. "He had no right to tell you that. The charges were dropped and have nothing to do with his death."
"He mentioned that. But, he does suspect that those charges did result in your uncle's death."
"He thinks that the child's parents might have murdered him. Or the parents of another victim."
"This is ridiculous. The parents dropped the charges, I might add. If Uncle Joe would have been guilty, then they would not have dropped those charges. For the police to even think that those parents did murder him, then they are obviously desperate to pin the blame on the first person they can get their hands on. Uncle Joe is dead, why can't they just let it be? He left a suicide note. I think it's very plain that he killed himself."
"Do you really believe that?" Kerry softly asked.
John stared at her for a second, then nodded. "Yes, I do."
"I wish I could believe you. I've known you long enough to be able to tell when you're lying, John."
John tossed his napkin on the table and stood, angry that she would say that. He knew it was true, and that made him feel even angrier.
"Fine. Believe what you want. It doesn't change the truth any, Kerry." He began to walk away.
"John, did he molest you?"
He stopped in his tracks at hearing her question. Had that bastard Morgan told her that, too? He tried to think of something to tell her, some reply that would satisfy her curiosity. But, she would know that he was lying. She had proved that to him already. The Hell with her. The Hell with them all. He went to his room.
Kerry slowly put her fork down. John's silence was all the answer she needed. He was hurting and obviously confused about his uncle's death. She could understand why he would want to put bad memories behind him, but she needed to make him see that if that man had molested him, then that meant he most likely had molested that other boy. And God only knew how many boys in between the two of them. Since the man was dead, he obviously wasn't a threat anymore, but there were people out there whom he had damaged and they deserved to get help.
She stood and headed for John's room. She didn't want to end up having an argument with him, but she couldn't let this go. Not now anyway.
"John? May I come down?"
"No."
He sounded sullen. Taking a deep breath, she started down the steps.
"Dammitt, Kerry. I told you to not come down." He got up off of his bed and met her at the bottom of the steps. "I don't want to talk about my uncle. Not with you nor with anyone else."
"John, you can't just push this aside."
"I most certainly can," he asserted.
She shook her head. "Can you really? Have you ever spoken to anyone about this? A counselor or your parents?"
A shadow crossed his face as he shook his head. "No. And I have no intention of talking to you about it either." Then he belatedly remembered that he wasn't going to admit anything to Kerry and he hastily added, "Because there isn't anything to talk about. Go back upstairs. You have company coming, remember?"
"I have plenty of time for you, John."
"I appreciate that, Kerry, but there's nothing to talk about. If you're done eating, then I'll come up to take care of the dishes. You're supposed to be resting, remember?"
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