7:45 AM Roswell Sheriff's Office
It had been a long shift and it would be over in fifteen minutes. One of the day shift guys had brought in a couple dozen maple bars, and Deputy Sanchez was trying to finish the night report without getting brown frosting on it, while simultaneously writing and eating.....it wasn't going well.
"Deputy," said Lieutenant Humboldt, "Did you get a fax in from Iowa? Doctor Fowler asked them to send me a case file.."
"Sure did, Lieutenant. That's it sitting there in her inbox. Thanks for the doughnuts, by the way."
"Glad to do it. What's the sense of being cops if we can't eat doughnuts," said the big man, as he put the papers in to his briefcase. He helped himself to a maple bar and a cup of coffeee, then went into the office that had been loaned to them and sipped coffee as he slowly fed one document after another into the shredder.
8:15 AM 8 miles outside of Roswell on Silvermine Road
The carbon dioxide level was approaching six percent, and the seizures were coming more frequently...mercifully so, because Liz was now rarely conscious. She had been incontinent of bowel and bladder at the last seizure, as she had lost sphincter tone, but there had been little urine. Her dehydration at this time was actually helping her survive, for normally her cerebral edema would have been severe enough to cause cerebellar tonsil herniation out the bottom of the braincase and subsequent death, but she did not even have the fluid to do that due to her dehydration.
Liz was now enduring as close to Hell as a person could experience during her few brief minutes of consciousness each hour, perhaps she even regretted her decision to trust in her heart and not to logic. But she wasn't having many coherent thoughts on any subject, so it would have been hard to say.
8:30 AM The Embassy Suites, Roswell New Mexico
Doctor Sandra Fowler had lost her battle to remain conscious. The sternal fracture was painful, but not life threatening, the bleeding from the .32 slug that had fractured her sternum had slowed to a trickle. She had been fortunate that the lower abdominal slug had missed her colon, but it had traversed the lumen of her small intestine in several of the loops. If she survived, she would eventually get a chemical peritonitis..but this was still better than a colon injury that would have spread infected feces throughout her abdomen and given her a septic peritonitis.
Her survival, however, was very much in doubt. A rather large branch of her superior mesenteric artery had been clipped by the little slug, and it was slowly but steadily spurting blood into her abdomen with each beat of her pulse. Had she been recumbent her blood pressure would have been adequate for her to remain conscious...but not so in the seated position. Her brain was already too poorly perfused for her to remain conscious. Within a couple hours, if nothing was done, her brain would infarct..her kidneys would fail..and finally her heart. But at least the good doctor was feeling no pain.
Incubus, Succubus, & Demon AU/Mature M/L 2/8/07 complete
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8:45 AM. County Parking Garage, adjacent to Chaves County Superior Court and Chaves County Sheriff’s Office, Roswell New Mexico.
The black Jeep wheeled in to the second floor parking space of the garage and Max quickly rushed across the Skybridge to the Sheriff’s Office. As Max went out of sight the large man moved quickly to the Jeep, screwdriver in hand. After quickly assuring himself that there were no witnesses, the right taillight lens was opened and the bulb smashed with a quick strike from the handle of the screwdriver and the lens was quickly replaced. The man opened the small toolbox and placed the cloth wrapped object beneath the jack, hidden from sight by the box. He quickly went to the glove compartment and placed a piece of cloth and a slip of paper in the packet with the registration and proof of insurance cards, then followed the boy into the building.
Max went to the deputy on duty at the desk and asked to speak with Doctor Sandra Fowler.
“Her partner told me she’s going to be late getting here today…checking up on something, he said. The Lieutenant said that he’d handle her appointments until 10:00 though. I’ll go notify him you are here. Have a seat, he should be here to get you shortly.”
Max really didn’t want to waste the time, although in truth he had no good idea where to go or what to do. He was depending on that Iowa report to provide some sort of a clue…any sort of a clue, as to where he could find the man who knew where to find Liz. Although almost frantic, he sat on the bench…waiting for Lieutenant Bob Humboldt.
75 feet down the hall, Bob Humboldt knocked on the open door of Sheriff Jim Valenti.
“Oh, Hi Bob. Where’s Sandra, I’ve got some ideas I want to talk with her about.”
Humboldt looked kind of vexed. “I’m not just sure, Jim. When I left the hotel this morning she told me she was going to meet with that Evans kid, then come in here at 9 o’clock. But now he’s here telling the Deputy on the desk that he was supposed to meet her here. That just doesn’t add up. You know, I thought at first that you were being too hard on the kid, but you are right…there’s something about him that just isn’t right. I’m going to tell him that she’s not here, but I wonder if we shouldn’t shadow the kid awhile, find out what he’s doing?”
Jim Valenti had been agonizing over the Max Evans situation, mulling over what Kyle and Doctor Fowler had said. Maybe Kyle was right, maybe the girl did love Max…maybe he could have gotten anything he wanted from her just by asking…but that really didn’t disqualify him as a suspect. The kid really had been almost stalking her…that wasn’t normal. If he’d have been normal, he would have at least made the effort to try to have a relationship with her…taken his chances like everyone else. Hell, Valenti knew he wasn’t that great at relationships…that’s part of why Kyle’s mom had split on them when Kyle was still young, but the kid hadn’t even asked her out…like he thought he was too good for her….or more likely, she was too good for him. So after three or four years, that feeling could have exploded into violence. The kid had a temper…that was clear. He’d never had anyone come over a table like that…taking him completely by surprise, and he had shed Humboldt with just a swipe of his hand. Yeah, the kid had a temper…but then so did Jim Valenti. He’d tried to provoke Max Evans….tried to get him to say or do something that would give him away and Max Evans had responded…well, just like Jim Valenti would have if he’d been the boy. The doctor had been right about that, Jim Valenti and Max Evans both used the hammer approach to life when things got stressful and if he’d had any other leads…any other at all, he’d have gone for them. But the simple fact was that Max was the only suspect and Jim Valenti was praying that he was the perpetrator..praying as hard as he could, because there wasn’t a single other lead. ‘If it’s not Max Evans, the girl is going to die,’ he told himself. ‘It’s as simple as that.’
“OK, Bob, but we are going to have to be discrete. We can shadow him, but we are going to need some probable cause to pull him over or do anything to him…the judge and the DA made that perfectly clear. Otherwise, the kids old man is going to walk all over us in court.”
“Well, maybe we’ll get lucky, Jim. The kid may run a stop sign or something. I’ll go tell hin that Sandra’s not going to be in for awhile.”
“OK, let me get my hat.”
Two minutes later Lieutenant Bob Humboldt walked into the lobby. “Max? I understand you think you had a meeting with Doctor Fowler? She’s not here. I’m not sure when she’ll be back. If you have a cellphone, give me your number and I’ll have her call you as soon as she gets here.”
The disappointment was obvious on his face as he wrote the number of his phone on the piece of paper and handed it to the big Lieutenant. He turned and disconsolately walked back out through the skybridge to the parking garage.
8:55 AM South Main Street, Roswell New Mexico.
The unmarked car had been following the black jeep for four blocks, and had slowed as it had approached McGaffey street knowing that he’d have to stop for the red stoplight.
“Look, Jim,” sadif Humboldt. “There’s our chance..the right taillight is burned out. We can stop him for the equipment violation…do a safety check…maybe find something that’ll help us.”
“OK, let’s do it.”
When the lights flashed and the siren came on, Max Evans was already upset. He was frantic, but had no idea where to go or what to do….. and this stop seemed more like harassment….he was pretty sure he hadn’t been speeding or missed any stoplights. Even so he knew intuitively that his situation ..and Liz’s situation wouldn’t be improved by him getting in another confrontation with the Sheriff, so he bit his tongue and waited as the Sheriff walked up to the car.
“Son, I’d like to see your license, registration, and proof of insurance.”
Max glared at the Sheriff, but said nothing. He slowly got his license from his wallet and handed it to the Sheriff, then reached in to the glove compartment and offered the Sheriff the little folder with the registration and insurance card in it.
“Please take the documents out of the folder, son,” said the Sheriff. Max looked at him with further annoyance. He opened the little booklet and was surprised to see a uniform pocket with the embroidered name ‘Liz’ fall onto the ground along with a piece of paper. The Sheriff quickly bent and picked up the paper before the desert wind caught it. He looked at it briefly.
“This seems to be a deposit slip for eleven hundred and eighty-six dollars from the Roswell United Bank for the night Liz Parker disappeared….you care to explain that to us, Max.?”
“Sheriff, I’ve never seen that before in my life…”
”Yeah, Max…..You have a right to remain silent, if you give up that right, anything you may say can and will be used against you in a court of law…"
The black Jeep wheeled in to the second floor parking space of the garage and Max quickly rushed across the Skybridge to the Sheriff’s Office. As Max went out of sight the large man moved quickly to the Jeep, screwdriver in hand. After quickly assuring himself that there were no witnesses, the right taillight lens was opened and the bulb smashed with a quick strike from the handle of the screwdriver and the lens was quickly replaced. The man opened the small toolbox and placed the cloth wrapped object beneath the jack, hidden from sight by the box. He quickly went to the glove compartment and placed a piece of cloth and a slip of paper in the packet with the registration and proof of insurance cards, then followed the boy into the building.
Max went to the deputy on duty at the desk and asked to speak with Doctor Sandra Fowler.
“Her partner told me she’s going to be late getting here today…checking up on something, he said. The Lieutenant said that he’d handle her appointments until 10:00 though. I’ll go notify him you are here. Have a seat, he should be here to get you shortly.”
Max really didn’t want to waste the time, although in truth he had no good idea where to go or what to do. He was depending on that Iowa report to provide some sort of a clue…any sort of a clue, as to where he could find the man who knew where to find Liz. Although almost frantic, he sat on the bench…waiting for Lieutenant Bob Humboldt.
75 feet down the hall, Bob Humboldt knocked on the open door of Sheriff Jim Valenti.
“Oh, Hi Bob. Where’s Sandra, I’ve got some ideas I want to talk with her about.”
Humboldt looked kind of vexed. “I’m not just sure, Jim. When I left the hotel this morning she told me she was going to meet with that Evans kid, then come in here at 9 o’clock. But now he’s here telling the Deputy on the desk that he was supposed to meet her here. That just doesn’t add up. You know, I thought at first that you were being too hard on the kid, but you are right…there’s something about him that just isn’t right. I’m going to tell him that she’s not here, but I wonder if we shouldn’t shadow the kid awhile, find out what he’s doing?”
Jim Valenti had been agonizing over the Max Evans situation, mulling over what Kyle and Doctor Fowler had said. Maybe Kyle was right, maybe the girl did love Max…maybe he could have gotten anything he wanted from her just by asking…but that really didn’t disqualify him as a suspect. The kid really had been almost stalking her…that wasn’t normal. If he’d have been normal, he would have at least made the effort to try to have a relationship with her…taken his chances like everyone else. Hell, Valenti knew he wasn’t that great at relationships…that’s part of why Kyle’s mom had split on them when Kyle was still young, but the kid hadn’t even asked her out…like he thought he was too good for her….or more likely, she was too good for him. So after three or four years, that feeling could have exploded into violence. The kid had a temper…that was clear. He’d never had anyone come over a table like that…taking him completely by surprise, and he had shed Humboldt with just a swipe of his hand. Yeah, the kid had a temper…but then so did Jim Valenti. He’d tried to provoke Max Evans….tried to get him to say or do something that would give him away and Max Evans had responded…well, just like Jim Valenti would have if he’d been the boy. The doctor had been right about that, Jim Valenti and Max Evans both used the hammer approach to life when things got stressful and if he’d had any other leads…any other at all, he’d have gone for them. But the simple fact was that Max was the only suspect and Jim Valenti was praying that he was the perpetrator..praying as hard as he could, because there wasn’t a single other lead. ‘If it’s not Max Evans, the girl is going to die,’ he told himself. ‘It’s as simple as that.’
“OK, Bob, but we are going to have to be discrete. We can shadow him, but we are going to need some probable cause to pull him over or do anything to him…the judge and the DA made that perfectly clear. Otherwise, the kids old man is going to walk all over us in court.”
“Well, maybe we’ll get lucky, Jim. The kid may run a stop sign or something. I’ll go tell hin that Sandra’s not going to be in for awhile.”
“OK, let me get my hat.”
Two minutes later Lieutenant Bob Humboldt walked into the lobby. “Max? I understand you think you had a meeting with Doctor Fowler? She’s not here. I’m not sure when she’ll be back. If you have a cellphone, give me your number and I’ll have her call you as soon as she gets here.”
The disappointment was obvious on his face as he wrote the number of his phone on the piece of paper and handed it to the big Lieutenant. He turned and disconsolately walked back out through the skybridge to the parking garage.
8:55 AM South Main Street, Roswell New Mexico.
The unmarked car had been following the black jeep for four blocks, and had slowed as it had approached McGaffey street knowing that he’d have to stop for the red stoplight.
“Look, Jim,” sadif Humboldt. “There’s our chance..the right taillight is burned out. We can stop him for the equipment violation…do a safety check…maybe find something that’ll help us.”
“OK, let’s do it.”
When the lights flashed and the siren came on, Max Evans was already upset. He was frantic, but had no idea where to go or what to do….. and this stop seemed more like harassment….he was pretty sure he hadn’t been speeding or missed any stoplights. Even so he knew intuitively that his situation ..and Liz’s situation wouldn’t be improved by him getting in another confrontation with the Sheriff, so he bit his tongue and waited as the Sheriff walked up to the car.
“Son, I’d like to see your license, registration, and proof of insurance.”
Max glared at the Sheriff, but said nothing. He slowly got his license from his wallet and handed it to the Sheriff, then reached in to the glove compartment and offered the Sheriff the little folder with the registration and insurance card in it.
“Please take the documents out of the folder, son,” said the Sheriff. Max looked at him with further annoyance. He opened the little booklet and was surprised to see a uniform pocket with the embroidered name ‘Liz’ fall onto the ground along with a piece of paper. The Sheriff quickly bent and picked up the paper before the desert wind caught it. He looked at it briefly.
“This seems to be a deposit slip for eleven hundred and eighty-six dollars from the Roswell United Bank for the night Liz Parker disappeared….you care to explain that to us, Max.?”
“Sheriff, I’ve never seen that before in my life…”
”Yeah, Max…..You have a right to remain silent, if you give up that right, anything you may say can and will be used against you in a court of law…"
9:30 AM Chaves County Superior Court
“Your honor, this is ridiculous,” said Philip Evans. “It’s an open top Jeep….anyone could have put those items in the glove compartment, and given the Sheriff’s previous conduct toward my son, which this court is well aware of, I would like him to take the stand to explain why he thought there was probable cause to even pull my son over to begin with”
“I understand the issue with the Jeep, Philip. This is not an arraignment, it’s simply a preliminary hearing, at your request, and the only matter I’m going to rule upon is whether the Sheriff has probable cause to detain your son and search the Jeep and his room. I am not prejudging your son’s guilt or innocence here.”
“Your honor,” said the DA, “..I believe, considering a young lady may very well be asphyxiating right now, that the Jeep should be searched, no matter who may or may not have placed the fragment of the uniform and the deposit receipt in the vehicle. Furthermore, given the history of the boy stalking the girl..”
“I object to that, your honor…and it seems like the District Attorney is trying to work into his statements allegations developed on the basis of an interrogation of Max that was totally illegal..”
“OK, calm down, both of you. I’m going to try to make a reasonable compromise here. Obviously evidence has already been discovered in the Jeep that is indisputably linked to the abduction of that girl, so clearly further search of that vehicle is appropriate. As for searching the Evans home……well, as a lawyer Philip Evans is an officer of the court. I’m going to ask him to search the boys room and anywhere else he can think of in the residence for anything that might be pertinent to the case and report back to this court with the results of this search.”
“Your honor,” said the DA. “I strenuously object to your allowing the father of the boy under question to perform this search. He has an obvious conflict of interest..”
“Your objection is noted. I might also note that since the county itself was responsible for an illegal interrogation of the boy, Counselor Evans might just as easily claim conflict of interest with the Sheriff’s Department, since their only defense from being sued for violating the boys civil liberties is to convict him. Now Raymond, my decision stands. If you don’t like it, appeal it to a higher court. If you keep standing here in my court arguing with me about it, you’re going to be held in contempt. Are there any OTHER issues in this case.”
“Yes your honor,” said Phillip. “My son has asked to see his sister in private. That hasn’t been permitted..”
“This girl is not part of the legal team, your honor. The Supreme Court has held that there is no right to privacy between prisoners and their visitors. The state has no objection to the girl visiting her brother at the usual visiting times subject to the usual monitoring, but we see no justification for the girl to be treated any different from a normal visitor.”
“Your honor, Isabel is part of the defense team, no different than her father. The attorney-client privilege should be extended to all members of the defense team.”
“Your honor, that’s outrageous…”
Jim Valenti had stopped listening to the courtroom drama once it was apparent they were going to get to keep the kid. He knew he’d complicated the state’s case by the early interrogation, the DA had made that clear enough. But he’d been running over in his head the conversation he’d had with Kyle, and the one he’d had with Sandra Fowler.
‘Am I just hammering this kid because he’s the only nail I have?’ he asked himself. ‘Was the kid really that stupid? Stupid enough to carry not one but two bits of evidence that would unequivocally link him to the missing girl….in the unlocked glove compartment of an open topped Jeep?’
Well, maybe….if he WANTED to be caught. And maybe he DID want to be caught…maybe whatever twisted thing had caused him to do this had given him such guilt he did want to be caught…and at times the kid certainly did appear guilty about something or at least…regretful. But the kid had looked genuinely surprised when he’d seen the torn pocket from her uniform and the receipt…and the way he’d stared at the uniform…the pain in his eyes….. Jim wished that Sandra Fowler would show up….he needed some help sorting out the psychological status of the boy. The pain there….that was real….but was it guilt for murdering the girl…or guilt for something else…for not being there for her?
Lost in thought, Valenti was taken by surprise and the judge had to repeat the question.
“Sheriff Valenti? I asked if you have any objection to Isabel Evans accompanying her father when he consults with his client?”
“Huh? OH, no, your honor. As long as she submits to a search for weapons by a female police officer, that’d be fine.”
“Your honor, this is ridiculous,” said Philip Evans. “It’s an open top Jeep….anyone could have put those items in the glove compartment, and given the Sheriff’s previous conduct toward my son, which this court is well aware of, I would like him to take the stand to explain why he thought there was probable cause to even pull my son over to begin with”
“I understand the issue with the Jeep, Philip. This is not an arraignment, it’s simply a preliminary hearing, at your request, and the only matter I’m going to rule upon is whether the Sheriff has probable cause to detain your son and search the Jeep and his room. I am not prejudging your son’s guilt or innocence here.”
“Your honor,” said the DA, “..I believe, considering a young lady may very well be asphyxiating right now, that the Jeep should be searched, no matter who may or may not have placed the fragment of the uniform and the deposit receipt in the vehicle. Furthermore, given the history of the boy stalking the girl..”
“I object to that, your honor…and it seems like the District Attorney is trying to work into his statements allegations developed on the basis of an interrogation of Max that was totally illegal..”
“OK, calm down, both of you. I’m going to try to make a reasonable compromise here. Obviously evidence has already been discovered in the Jeep that is indisputably linked to the abduction of that girl, so clearly further search of that vehicle is appropriate. As for searching the Evans home……well, as a lawyer Philip Evans is an officer of the court. I’m going to ask him to search the boys room and anywhere else he can think of in the residence for anything that might be pertinent to the case and report back to this court with the results of this search.”
“Your honor,” said the DA. “I strenuously object to your allowing the father of the boy under question to perform this search. He has an obvious conflict of interest..”
“Your objection is noted. I might also note that since the county itself was responsible for an illegal interrogation of the boy, Counselor Evans might just as easily claim conflict of interest with the Sheriff’s Department, since their only defense from being sued for violating the boys civil liberties is to convict him. Now Raymond, my decision stands. If you don’t like it, appeal it to a higher court. If you keep standing here in my court arguing with me about it, you’re going to be held in contempt. Are there any OTHER issues in this case.”
“Yes your honor,” said Phillip. “My son has asked to see his sister in private. That hasn’t been permitted..”
“This girl is not part of the legal team, your honor. The Supreme Court has held that there is no right to privacy between prisoners and their visitors. The state has no objection to the girl visiting her brother at the usual visiting times subject to the usual monitoring, but we see no justification for the girl to be treated any different from a normal visitor.”
“Your honor, Isabel is part of the defense team, no different than her father. The attorney-client privilege should be extended to all members of the defense team.”
“Your honor, that’s outrageous…”
Jim Valenti had stopped listening to the courtroom drama once it was apparent they were going to get to keep the kid. He knew he’d complicated the state’s case by the early interrogation, the DA had made that clear enough. But he’d been running over in his head the conversation he’d had with Kyle, and the one he’d had with Sandra Fowler.
‘Am I just hammering this kid because he’s the only nail I have?’ he asked himself. ‘Was the kid really that stupid? Stupid enough to carry not one but two bits of evidence that would unequivocally link him to the missing girl….in the unlocked glove compartment of an open topped Jeep?’
Well, maybe….if he WANTED to be caught. And maybe he DID want to be caught…maybe whatever twisted thing had caused him to do this had given him such guilt he did want to be caught…and at times the kid certainly did appear guilty about something or at least…regretful. But the kid had looked genuinely surprised when he’d seen the torn pocket from her uniform and the receipt…and the way he’d stared at the uniform…the pain in his eyes….. Jim wished that Sandra Fowler would show up….he needed some help sorting out the psychological status of the boy. The pain there….that was real….but was it guilt for murdering the girl…or guilt for something else…for not being there for her?
Lost in thought, Valenti was taken by surprise and the judge had to repeat the question.
“Sheriff Valenti? I asked if you have any objection to Isabel Evans accompanying her father when he consults with his client?”
“Huh? OH, no, your honor. As long as she submits to a search for weapons by a female police officer, that’d be fine.”
10:05 AM The Embassy Suites, Roswell New Mexico
“What are we doing here, Isabel?” asked Diane Evans, looking at the ‘Do Not Disturb Sign,’ on the door her daughter was currently beating upon.
“Max said this Doctor Fowler promised to help him get some information…and she’s going to help him,” she said as she pounded on the door insistently.
“She doesn’t appear to be at home..”
“Well where the hell is she?” Isabel asked. “She promised Max… maybe if we looked around inside we’d find a clue as to where she went….”
“I doubt that they’d let us in…” Diane started to say as she noticed the yellow flash from Isabel’s hand and heard the click of the lock, “…but I suppose we could just do THAT…whatever THAT was..”
Isabel’s head was barely in the door when she saw the bloody body taped to the chair. “My God, Mom, …call 911.”
Isabel peeled the tape from her mouth…she was breathing, but barely. She tipped the chair over onto its back, raising her legs and lowering her head. She felt only the most feeble of pulses.
“They’re on their way, Isabel. Oh good Lord, the poor woman…”
Dianne watched as Isabel put her hand to the woman’s abdomen..
“God, I wish Max were here….I’m no good at this…”
The woman was comatose…she couldn’t make a connection. She sent her mind down with her telekinetic powers…feeling for the bullet and the structures around it. There seemed to be a small bullet…and a small artery ruptured near it. She concentrated her power on closing that small artery…not letting it continue to pump blood into her abdomen. She felt the flow stopping….partly from her power…mostly because the blood pressure was already so low.”
“Tell them to hurry, Mom. She needs blood…..she doesn’t have much left.”
“What are we doing here, Isabel?” asked Diane Evans, looking at the ‘Do Not Disturb Sign,’ on the door her daughter was currently beating upon.
“Max said this Doctor Fowler promised to help him get some information…and she’s going to help him,” she said as she pounded on the door insistently.
“She doesn’t appear to be at home..”
“Well where the hell is she?” Isabel asked. “She promised Max… maybe if we looked around inside we’d find a clue as to where she went….”
“I doubt that they’d let us in…” Diane started to say as she noticed the yellow flash from Isabel’s hand and heard the click of the lock, “…but I suppose we could just do THAT…whatever THAT was..”
Isabel’s head was barely in the door when she saw the bloody body taped to the chair. “My God, Mom, …call 911.”
Isabel peeled the tape from her mouth…she was breathing, but barely. She tipped the chair over onto its back, raising her legs and lowering her head. She felt only the most feeble of pulses.
“They’re on their way, Isabel. Oh good Lord, the poor woman…”
Dianne watched as Isabel put her hand to the woman’s abdomen..
“God, I wish Max were here….I’m no good at this…”
The woman was comatose…she couldn’t make a connection. She sent her mind down with her telekinetic powers…feeling for the bullet and the structures around it. There seemed to be a small bullet…and a small artery ruptured near it. She concentrated her power on closing that small artery…not letting it continue to pump blood into her abdomen. She felt the flow stopping….partly from her power…mostly because the blood pressure was already so low.”
“Tell them to hurry, Mom. She needs blood…..she doesn’t have much left.”
10:15 AM. Chaves County Sheriff’s Office, Roswell New Mexico.
The buzzer on his intercom went off, and Jim Valenti picked up the receiver of the phone on his desk.
“Valenti.”
“Sheriff, this is Jennings in Forensics. We’ve been going over the Evans kids Jeep and…you got a minute? There’s something here you need to see.”
“Be there in five minutes, Bill.”
Forensic Lab, first floor.
“OK, Bill, What do you have.”
Jennings held up an evidence envelope with a small chrome plated revolver.
“The kid was sixteen? He can’t legally have a handgun. But this was in the toolbox under the Jack handle.”
“Loaded?”
“Three live rounds, two expended,” Jennings said, holding a separate evidence bag with shiny cartridges.”
“Fingerprints? “ Got a partial on the kid off the barrel…90% probability it’s his. Lot of smeared fingerprints too, not his…quick check indicated they probably belong to the registered owner. Want to guess?”
Valenti wasn’t in the mood for games, with a young girl suffocating somewhere in the county. “Just tell me..”
“Sandra Fowler, Albuquerque New Mexico.”
“The doc?”
“The very same, but the good part is the ammunition…got a number of partials and a couple completes on the brass…some Fowler’s, some the kids..”
“He handled the cartridges?”
“It looks like they both did, hers on top of his.”
“These look new. Any chance the kid might have just handled the box at the sporting goods store and Doctor Fowler bought the box later?”
“Anything but. See the headstamp? Parkinson ordnance company? They went out of business in the Fifties. Those rounds are almost as old as the damn revolver.”
“So he polished her ammo for her? That’s bizarre. But it looks like we’ve got the kid on suspicion of illegal possession of a handgun. That’ll keep him in overnight at least. I’m not sure if that’s good or not. I almost wish we could let him out in hopes that he’d lead us to the girl.”
“Yeah, if he copied one of those other two cases…damn, the girl is probably out of air by now, unless she’s really rationing it. And I’m not sure if I’d want to do that…just prolong the agony, maybe.”
“Well, time to give Philip Evans a call and tell him he’d better get his butt back in here, because we want to speak to junior again. Anything else on the car?”
“No..other than the kid needs a new bulb for his right taillight. We opened everything up, looking for drugs…anything. All we found was that broken bulb.”
“The bulb was burned out?”
“No, broken…in pieces…”
“Really? You ever see that before?”
“Hey, do I look like a mechanic? We don’t get a car in here once a month. But personally, I’ve replaced my fair share of burned out ones, but I’ve never had one break…except when I got rear-ended. Of course, the whole ass end of the car was broken…not just the bulb by itself.”
10:30 AM Interrogation Room, Chaves County Sheriff’s Department
“Max, since our last talk a new issue has come up….have you ever seen this revolver?”
Philip Evans saw Max’s eyes go wide momentarily…then turn to look at his father with fear and obvious agitation.
“Sheriff, I’d like a minute with my son to discuss this before he answers.”
“The question was a simple enough one, Counselor. Why can’t you just let him give us a yes or no answer?”
“I either get the private discussion with my son, or I advise him to take the Fifth amendment, Sheriff,…and he’ll do that too. What’s it going to be?”
“OK..one minute, then we’ll be back..”
As they stepped outside Bob Humboldt said, “Jim…can I take a look at that? I think I recognize it.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s the docs revolver…Doctor Fowler. We found it in the toolbox of the kids Jeep, with two rounds recently fired and his prints all over it.”
“Well what was HE doing with it?”
“That’s what I hope he tells us. But whatever, it gives us cause to keep him as a minor in possession of a handgun without adult supervision, carrying a concealed weapon, possibly theft….if we can make it stick. Don’t underestimate the kids dad, he doesn’t do much criminal law, but he’s good at what he does.”
“Well now I am starting to worry about Sandra, though. She told me she was supposed to meet with that kid.”
“Yeah, well me too…”
Inside the conference room the conversation had gone from Attorney-Client to Dad-Son:
“You went to her room in the middle of the night? How could you have been that stupid?”
“I needed her help, Dad. I couldn’t get those records…you couldn’t get them…she could..and she promised me she would.”
“You break in to her room, confront her at close range, Hell Max, you are lucky you didn’t get yourself shot…”
“She couldn’t shoot me, I’d taken the cartridges out of her gun.”
”Oh Max, please tell me you didn’t leave fingerprints on the revolver…or on the cartridges…”
“I don’t know, Dad….well…yes, probably I did. But she was on my side. She was going to get the report for me.”
“She was probably just humoring you to get you out the door. I’m surprised she hasn’t charged you with breaking and entering…”
”I didn’t break anything, just opened the lock…”
“Yeah, that’s called criminal trespass, Max. And a good case could be made for assault as well.”
“I didn’t touch her, Dad.”
“You don’t have to touch her, Max. That’s battery…physically touching. You don’t have to touch for assault…just threaten. When you appear hovering over someone’s bed at two in the morning after criminally trespassing, that pretty much makes the case for assault. How could you have been so stupid?”
The words came out before he really thought. He’d only had Max for ten years…but he’d enjoyed every one of them. But not these last days. It should have been joyful, being able to talk openly with his kids about their secret…after all these years. But his son was hurting…hurting worse than he’d ever hurt before. Max had always been a shy kid…quiet…an introvert. Max had shown more emotion over Liz Parker in the last three days than Philip had ever seen him show.
“I’m sorry, son,” said Philip Evans. “What’s done is done. You might as well answer truthfully, although it might be a good idea to not mention the alien business.”
The two officers knocked, then re-entered the room.
“Well, Max,…same question…you ever seen the revolver?”
“Yes. That’s Doctor Fowler’s revolver.”
“I see. Do you have any idea how it wound up in the toolbox of your Jeep?”
Max looked at his father in surprise. “Dad, I have no idea?”
“I’m the one asking the questions, Max. So you have no idea how the revolver found its way into the toolbox of your vehicle? The loaded gun? In an unlocked toolbox within reach of the driver? That constitutes concealed carry, Max. Do you have a concealed weapons permit by any chance? I’m guessing no, because we don’t issue concealed weapons permits to anyone under twenty-one…In fact, it is illegal for you to even have a handgun in your possession unless being supervised by an adult. I don’t recall seeing an adult with you in that Jeep, Max.”
“I said I don’t have any idea how it got in there, Sheriff.”
“This questioning is going to end if you keep badgering my son, Sheriff.”
“Badgering, counselor? We have a loaded weapon being transported illegally, we have a missing police officer, and it’s her weapon, and your son’s fingerprints are all over it. Your son needs to explain how this could innocently happen….if that’s possible. How about it, Max?”
”I went to visit her this morning…to ask her to do some research for me. She promised she would. I touched the weapon…and the ammunition, at that time.”
“And what time would that be, Max.”
“I think I left her room about 2:15, Sheriff.”
“2:15? In the morning? You expect us to believe that she let you in to her room at 2:15 in the morning?”
“That’s the truth, Sheriff? I can’t help what you choose to believe, but that’s the truth.”
“Oh come on, Max…” the Sheriff started, when the deputy on desk duty opened the door….”Sheriff, Doctor Fowler’s been found…she was shot…one bullet in the chest, one in the abdomen.”
“Good God…”
Phillip Evans looked at his son. “Max, don’t answer another question until we discuss this…not a word, do you understand?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Deputy Bryan, where was she shot?”
“It was in her hotel room, Sheriff. She was duct taped to a chair…someone apparently used pillows as a silencer…nobody heard anything.”
“Has forensics been sent? The Medical Examiner?”
“Forensics, yes Sheriff. The ME? Oh…she’d not dead…she’s in bad shape…may not make it, but she’s in surgery right now…at Roswell Memorial.”
“Well, let’s put someone on her round the clock…she’s one of us, we need to protect her until she’s able to tell us what happened to her…if she ever can.”
“Sheriff,” said Lieutenant Humboldt, “Sandra and I have worked together for a long time…I’d like to take the first shift tonight, if that’s alright.”
Valenti had seen the look of shock and dismay on Humboldt's face. “Sure, Bob. I know it’s hardest for those who are closest. If you want the first shift tonight…well, Deputy Bryan…make that happen, OK? Then get others to fill in the remaining schedule.“
Something had just happened that hadn’t seemed quite right to Valenti,…but right now his concern was his fellow officer…the Parker girl…and apparently building a case against Max Evans for assault with a deadly weapon…murder if the doc didn’t make it…at least if the bullets in her matched the ballistics on the little five shot revolver.
“OH counselor. You’ve got five minutes with your son…then he goes back to his cell. And be advised, he’s being investigated for suspicion of attempted murder.”
Two minutes later the discussion had turned from Attorney-Client to Father-Son once again:
”Max, you are going to stay in that cell. You are not to say a word to anyone, and you are to make no attempt to leave. Is that PERFECTLY clear?”
”Dad, I can’t just sit in a cell while Liz is dying..”
“Max, do you know where Liz is?”
“Of course not, Dad. You know me better than that.”
“Yes I do, son…but the police don’t. If you don’t know where Liz is, the best thing you can do for her is to stay right here. Then at least the police can keep looking, they’ve got the whole force out there trying to find her. You break out…someone they believe has shot one of their own…Liz Parker takes a back seat to the whole force trying to track you down. Son, if you leave that cell you’ll be destroying whatever little chance that poor girl has…”
Max had always been so aloof…so detached….it caught Philip Evans totally by surprise to see his son fighting back sobs…to see the tears flow. “Dad,…I can’t lose her…I can’t…I promised her…”
Philip Evans hugged his son…hugged him like he had when he was six…and was hugged back more than he’d even been hugged back by a son who suddenly seemed so helpless.
“I’m sorry, Max. I’m so sorry…but you have to stay here, son…you’ll only make it worse if you don’t.”
Philip Evans had never seen his son look so completely …beaten..in his life. Through tearing eyes he looked at his son…watching him shake with each sob…..
“Ok, Dad…I’ll stay in the cell. But Dad….”
“Yes Max?”
Philip Evans almost took a step back…so great was the change in Max…as the golden glow shone in those big amber eyes…..
“Dad, if Liz dies…nothing in this world is going to keep me from finding the man who did this to her….”
“Just worry about one day at a time, son. Right now, just stay in the cell.”
Max nodded, but he was staring off at the wall, already imagining what he would do to the man when he caught him…….
The buzzer on his intercom went off, and Jim Valenti picked up the receiver of the phone on his desk.
“Valenti.”
“Sheriff, this is Jennings in Forensics. We’ve been going over the Evans kids Jeep and…you got a minute? There’s something here you need to see.”
“Be there in five minutes, Bill.”
Forensic Lab, first floor.
“OK, Bill, What do you have.”
Jennings held up an evidence envelope with a small chrome plated revolver.
“The kid was sixteen? He can’t legally have a handgun. But this was in the toolbox under the Jack handle.”
“Loaded?”
“Three live rounds, two expended,” Jennings said, holding a separate evidence bag with shiny cartridges.”
“Fingerprints? “ Got a partial on the kid off the barrel…90% probability it’s his. Lot of smeared fingerprints too, not his…quick check indicated they probably belong to the registered owner. Want to guess?”
Valenti wasn’t in the mood for games, with a young girl suffocating somewhere in the county. “Just tell me..”
“Sandra Fowler, Albuquerque New Mexico.”
“The doc?”
“The very same, but the good part is the ammunition…got a number of partials and a couple completes on the brass…some Fowler’s, some the kids..”
“He handled the cartridges?”
“It looks like they both did, hers on top of his.”
“These look new. Any chance the kid might have just handled the box at the sporting goods store and Doctor Fowler bought the box later?”
“Anything but. See the headstamp? Parkinson ordnance company? They went out of business in the Fifties. Those rounds are almost as old as the damn revolver.”
“So he polished her ammo for her? That’s bizarre. But it looks like we’ve got the kid on suspicion of illegal possession of a handgun. That’ll keep him in overnight at least. I’m not sure if that’s good or not. I almost wish we could let him out in hopes that he’d lead us to the girl.”
“Yeah, if he copied one of those other two cases…damn, the girl is probably out of air by now, unless she’s really rationing it. And I’m not sure if I’d want to do that…just prolong the agony, maybe.”
“Well, time to give Philip Evans a call and tell him he’d better get his butt back in here, because we want to speak to junior again. Anything else on the car?”
“No..other than the kid needs a new bulb for his right taillight. We opened everything up, looking for drugs…anything. All we found was that broken bulb.”
“The bulb was burned out?”
“No, broken…in pieces…”
“Really? You ever see that before?”
“Hey, do I look like a mechanic? We don’t get a car in here once a month. But personally, I’ve replaced my fair share of burned out ones, but I’ve never had one break…except when I got rear-ended. Of course, the whole ass end of the car was broken…not just the bulb by itself.”
10:30 AM Interrogation Room, Chaves County Sheriff’s Department
“Max, since our last talk a new issue has come up….have you ever seen this revolver?”
Philip Evans saw Max’s eyes go wide momentarily…then turn to look at his father with fear and obvious agitation.
“Sheriff, I’d like a minute with my son to discuss this before he answers.”
“The question was a simple enough one, Counselor. Why can’t you just let him give us a yes or no answer?”
“I either get the private discussion with my son, or I advise him to take the Fifth amendment, Sheriff,…and he’ll do that too. What’s it going to be?”
“OK..one minute, then we’ll be back..”
As they stepped outside Bob Humboldt said, “Jim…can I take a look at that? I think I recognize it.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s the docs revolver…Doctor Fowler. We found it in the toolbox of the kids Jeep, with two rounds recently fired and his prints all over it.”
“Well what was HE doing with it?”
“That’s what I hope he tells us. But whatever, it gives us cause to keep him as a minor in possession of a handgun without adult supervision, carrying a concealed weapon, possibly theft….if we can make it stick. Don’t underestimate the kids dad, he doesn’t do much criminal law, but he’s good at what he does.”
“Well now I am starting to worry about Sandra, though. She told me she was supposed to meet with that kid.”
“Yeah, well me too…”
Inside the conference room the conversation had gone from Attorney-Client to Dad-Son:
“You went to her room in the middle of the night? How could you have been that stupid?”
“I needed her help, Dad. I couldn’t get those records…you couldn’t get them…she could..and she promised me she would.”
“You break in to her room, confront her at close range, Hell Max, you are lucky you didn’t get yourself shot…”
“She couldn’t shoot me, I’d taken the cartridges out of her gun.”
”Oh Max, please tell me you didn’t leave fingerprints on the revolver…or on the cartridges…”
“I don’t know, Dad….well…yes, probably I did. But she was on my side. She was going to get the report for me.”
“She was probably just humoring you to get you out the door. I’m surprised she hasn’t charged you with breaking and entering…”
”I didn’t break anything, just opened the lock…”
“Yeah, that’s called criminal trespass, Max. And a good case could be made for assault as well.”
“I didn’t touch her, Dad.”
“You don’t have to touch her, Max. That’s battery…physically touching. You don’t have to touch for assault…just threaten. When you appear hovering over someone’s bed at two in the morning after criminally trespassing, that pretty much makes the case for assault. How could you have been so stupid?”
The words came out before he really thought. He’d only had Max for ten years…but he’d enjoyed every one of them. But not these last days. It should have been joyful, being able to talk openly with his kids about their secret…after all these years. But his son was hurting…hurting worse than he’d ever hurt before. Max had always been a shy kid…quiet…an introvert. Max had shown more emotion over Liz Parker in the last three days than Philip had ever seen him show.
“I’m sorry, son,” said Philip Evans. “What’s done is done. You might as well answer truthfully, although it might be a good idea to not mention the alien business.”
The two officers knocked, then re-entered the room.
“Well, Max,…same question…you ever seen the revolver?”
“Yes. That’s Doctor Fowler’s revolver.”
“I see. Do you have any idea how it wound up in the toolbox of your Jeep?”
Max looked at his father in surprise. “Dad, I have no idea?”
“I’m the one asking the questions, Max. So you have no idea how the revolver found its way into the toolbox of your vehicle? The loaded gun? In an unlocked toolbox within reach of the driver? That constitutes concealed carry, Max. Do you have a concealed weapons permit by any chance? I’m guessing no, because we don’t issue concealed weapons permits to anyone under twenty-one…In fact, it is illegal for you to even have a handgun in your possession unless being supervised by an adult. I don’t recall seeing an adult with you in that Jeep, Max.”
“I said I don’t have any idea how it got in there, Sheriff.”
“This questioning is going to end if you keep badgering my son, Sheriff.”
“Badgering, counselor? We have a loaded weapon being transported illegally, we have a missing police officer, and it’s her weapon, and your son’s fingerprints are all over it. Your son needs to explain how this could innocently happen….if that’s possible. How about it, Max?”
”I went to visit her this morning…to ask her to do some research for me. She promised she would. I touched the weapon…and the ammunition, at that time.”
“And what time would that be, Max.”
“I think I left her room about 2:15, Sheriff.”
“2:15? In the morning? You expect us to believe that she let you in to her room at 2:15 in the morning?”
“That’s the truth, Sheriff? I can’t help what you choose to believe, but that’s the truth.”
“Oh come on, Max…” the Sheriff started, when the deputy on desk duty opened the door….”Sheriff, Doctor Fowler’s been found…she was shot…one bullet in the chest, one in the abdomen.”
“Good God…”
Phillip Evans looked at his son. “Max, don’t answer another question until we discuss this…not a word, do you understand?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Deputy Bryan, where was she shot?”
“It was in her hotel room, Sheriff. She was duct taped to a chair…someone apparently used pillows as a silencer…nobody heard anything.”
“Has forensics been sent? The Medical Examiner?”
“Forensics, yes Sheriff. The ME? Oh…she’d not dead…she’s in bad shape…may not make it, but she’s in surgery right now…at Roswell Memorial.”
“Well, let’s put someone on her round the clock…she’s one of us, we need to protect her until she’s able to tell us what happened to her…if she ever can.”
“Sheriff,” said Lieutenant Humboldt, “Sandra and I have worked together for a long time…I’d like to take the first shift tonight, if that’s alright.”
Valenti had seen the look of shock and dismay on Humboldt's face. “Sure, Bob. I know it’s hardest for those who are closest. If you want the first shift tonight…well, Deputy Bryan…make that happen, OK? Then get others to fill in the remaining schedule.“
Something had just happened that hadn’t seemed quite right to Valenti,…but right now his concern was his fellow officer…the Parker girl…and apparently building a case against Max Evans for assault with a deadly weapon…murder if the doc didn’t make it…at least if the bullets in her matched the ballistics on the little five shot revolver.
“OH counselor. You’ve got five minutes with your son…then he goes back to his cell. And be advised, he’s being investigated for suspicion of attempted murder.”
Two minutes later the discussion had turned from Attorney-Client to Father-Son once again:
”Max, you are going to stay in that cell. You are not to say a word to anyone, and you are to make no attempt to leave. Is that PERFECTLY clear?”
”Dad, I can’t just sit in a cell while Liz is dying..”
“Max, do you know where Liz is?”
“Of course not, Dad. You know me better than that.”
“Yes I do, son…but the police don’t. If you don’t know where Liz is, the best thing you can do for her is to stay right here. Then at least the police can keep looking, they’ve got the whole force out there trying to find her. You break out…someone they believe has shot one of their own…Liz Parker takes a back seat to the whole force trying to track you down. Son, if you leave that cell you’ll be destroying whatever little chance that poor girl has…”
Max had always been so aloof…so detached….it caught Philip Evans totally by surprise to see his son fighting back sobs…to see the tears flow. “Dad,…I can’t lose her…I can’t…I promised her…”
Philip Evans hugged his son…hugged him like he had when he was six…and was hugged back more than he’d even been hugged back by a son who suddenly seemed so helpless.
“I’m sorry, Max. I’m so sorry…but you have to stay here, son…you’ll only make it worse if you don’t.”
Philip Evans had never seen his son look so completely …beaten..in his life. Through tearing eyes he looked at his son…watching him shake with each sob…..
“Ok, Dad…I’ll stay in the cell. But Dad….”
“Yes Max?”
Philip Evans almost took a step back…so great was the change in Max…as the golden glow shone in those big amber eyes…..
“Dad, if Liz dies…nothing in this world is going to keep me from finding the man who did this to her….”
“Just worry about one day at a time, son. Right now, just stay in the cell.”
Max nodded, but he was staring off at the wall, already imagining what he would do to the man when he caught him…….
Last edited by greywolf on Thu Mar 15, 2007 10:10 am, edited 1 time in total.
Jim Valenti didn't get it. 'Is the kid feeling guilt about what he'd done to the girl? Max isn't stupid. Why would he carry the uniform fragment and the receipt in the unlocked glove compartment of an open top jeep?...and them hand them over...drop them right in my lap?' And then the revolver...it was the same thing. Sitting there in an unlocked toolbox? And then...even what he had said...he could have just claimed to have found it in the road somewhere. All they'd have him on was a minor in possession of a handgun without supervision. He'd have picked up trash by the side of the road for a couple of weekends of community service, or wound up tutoring some kid having trouble with their studies, more likely. But the story of going to see the doc at 2AM? That was an admission against interest if ever there was one. So instead of public service, he was potentially facing murder one? The only way it made sense, Valenti thought, was if the kid was guilty and it was getting to the kid....and as he looked in his eyes...he could see the guilt reflected there.
Forensic Lab
"Yes," said Jrff Parker, that's got to be from the uniform she was wearing that night."
"You're sure?" asked Jennings.
Nancy was sobbing quietly, and he put his arm around her and pulled her head to his shoulder, trying to comfort his wife, even though his own heart was breaking. "That's the new design, with a different color embroidery. She only had two of those...and the other is stil in her locker. That has to be the one."
"OK," said the fornsics specialist, "that's all we have for you right now, Mr. and Mrs. Parker."
Jeff Parker was trying to comfort his wife as they left tha lab. There was nothing he could do for Liz, but at least Nanacy he might be able to help. But as they got into the lobby he looked up and saw them bringing Max Evans back from the interrogation room, Valenti and the big state police officer.
The rage overtook Jeff Parker, rage and frustration and hurt....he stepped away from his wife, stepping in front of the three...feeling the frustration and the...hatred...well up inside of him.
Max saw it coming...but he didn't even care. The fist caught him on the left side of the cheek and nose...snapping his head back as it landed.
Jim Valenti normally would have been scanning the crowdas well as the prisoner, but his eyes were on Max's eyes, looking at the guilt they carried....finding his own comfort from that...trying to assure himself they really had the right culprit. The attack on the boy caught him by surprise, and even as he pulled out his TASER to use on the attacker, it didn't really register to him who was attacking. But it didn't matter, as it turned out, as he saw his wrist grabbed and halted as he tried to use the TASER..stopped by a right hand with a handcuff still hanging from it....
Forensic Lab
"Yes," said Jrff Parker, that's got to be from the uniform she was wearing that night."
"You're sure?" asked Jennings.
Nancy was sobbing quietly, and he put his arm around her and pulled her head to his shoulder, trying to comfort his wife, even though his own heart was breaking. "That's the new design, with a different color embroidery. She only had two of those...and the other is stil in her locker. That has to be the one."
"OK," said the fornsics specialist, "that's all we have for you right now, Mr. and Mrs. Parker."
Jeff Parker was trying to comfort his wife as they left tha lab. There was nothing he could do for Liz, but at least Nanacy he might be able to help. But as they got into the lobby he looked up and saw them bringing Max Evans back from the interrogation room, Valenti and the big state police officer.
The rage overtook Jeff Parker, rage and frustration and hurt....he stepped away from his wife, stepping in front of the three...feeling the frustration and the...hatred...well up inside of him.
Max saw it coming...but he didn't even care. The fist caught him on the left side of the cheek and nose...snapping his head back as it landed.
Jim Valenti normally would have been scanning the crowdas well as the prisoner, but his eyes were on Max's eyes, looking at the guilt they carried....finding his own comfort from that...trying to assure himself they really had the right culprit. The attack on the boy caught him by surprise, and even as he pulled out his TASER to use on the attacker, it didn't really register to him who was attacking. But it didn't matter, as it turned out, as he saw his wrist grabbed and halted as he tried to use the TASER..stopped by a right hand with a handcuff still hanging from it....
"Leave him alone. Can't you see he's suffered enough?" asked Max.
The realizations struck Valenti like physical blows...that was Jeff Parker he was about to attack...that was Max's hand restraining his...the hand he had himself put in the cuffs...and he would have sworn he heard the cuff click closed.
Humboldt had seen athletes with fast hands..but the boys hand had been a blur as it had come from behind his back trailing the handcuff as it had grabbed Valentis wrist in mid arc. More seriously, the kid had shucked him off like an old coat, flinging him against the wall. As Humboldt rebounded from the wall his hand went to his service automatic...but he was stopped by Jim Valenti..holding his free hand up and looking him in the eye.
"Stop," Valenti said, "..and I mean everybody..just stop. Jeff, what's wrong with you? You have just committed assault and battery on a minor in custody..."
"Like hell he has," said Max, blood trickling from his nose. "I tripped. You say anything different..I'll tell the judge you are a liar."
Valenti looked at the boy, then back at Jeff Parker. "Jeff, get the hell out of here and don't come back unless we request you to. Bob, put the weapon away. Max...face the wall and put your hands behind your back."
But then it hit Valenti exactly what he had seen...and it struck him to the core. The guilt and anger in Jeff Parkers eyes...it was the same haunting look that Max Evans had. The looks had been identical...did Max too actually love Liz...was the haunted look not from what he'd done to the girl but rather that he too blamed himself for not being there to protect her?
For all the evidence, despite how incriminating it seemed, suddenly Jim Valenti was almost convinced that Max wasn't the culprit...and that frightened the Sheriff most of all. Because if Max didn't abduct the girl..then Max didn't know where she was either....and if Max didn't know...they didn't have a chance, there were no other suspects. Liz Parker was going to die.
As they went into the jail area the Sheriff told the guard on duty, "Put him in solitary confinement."
"Why, Sheriff?"
"He just tripped...almost hurt himself. I don't want to take the chance of it happening again."
The realizations struck Valenti like physical blows...that was Jeff Parker he was about to attack...that was Max's hand restraining his...the hand he had himself put in the cuffs...and he would have sworn he heard the cuff click closed.
Humboldt had seen athletes with fast hands..but the boys hand had been a blur as it had come from behind his back trailing the handcuff as it had grabbed Valentis wrist in mid arc. More seriously, the kid had shucked him off like an old coat, flinging him against the wall. As Humboldt rebounded from the wall his hand went to his service automatic...but he was stopped by Jim Valenti..holding his free hand up and looking him in the eye.
"Stop," Valenti said, "..and I mean everybody..just stop. Jeff, what's wrong with you? You have just committed assault and battery on a minor in custody..."
"Like hell he has," said Max, blood trickling from his nose. "I tripped. You say anything different..I'll tell the judge you are a liar."
Valenti looked at the boy, then back at Jeff Parker. "Jeff, get the hell out of here and don't come back unless we request you to. Bob, put the weapon away. Max...face the wall and put your hands behind your back."
But then it hit Valenti exactly what he had seen...and it struck him to the core. The guilt and anger in Jeff Parkers eyes...it was the same haunting look that Max Evans had. The looks had been identical...did Max too actually love Liz...was the haunted look not from what he'd done to the girl but rather that he too blamed himself for not being there to protect her?
For all the evidence, despite how incriminating it seemed, suddenly Jim Valenti was almost convinced that Max wasn't the culprit...and that frightened the Sheriff most of all. Because if Max didn't abduct the girl..then Max didn't know where she was either....and if Max didn't know...they didn't have a chance, there were no other suspects. Liz Parker was going to die.
As they went into the jail area the Sheriff told the guard on duty, "Put him in solitary confinement."
"Why, Sheriff?"
"He just tripped...almost hurt himself. I don't want to take the chance of it happening again."
11:30 AM The Crashdown Cafe' Roswell New Mexico
He was sitting in the back booth trying to eat the Will Smith, but he had no appetite. All he could think of was that the minutes were becoming hours, and Liz Parker couldn't have that many left. The whole restaurant was quiet...depressed...morose. Maria had tears in her eyes when she'd taken his order, Jose had tears in his eyes as he'd prepared it, and Kyle Valenti was sitting there...having pushed one french fry back and forth in the ketchup until it had almost dissolved, the rest of the meal untouched, with no appetitie whatsoever.
It had been a mistake to come here, but somehow all Liz's friends had gravitated here in the last few hours..somehow wanting to be close to her...or at least the memory of her. The rumors had gone around the room..mostly about Max. Kyle still didn't believe them. He still remembered the rainy day in fifth grade physical education when they'd been forced to stay inside by a rare September thunderstorm and the teacher had made them square dance.
Nobody had wanted to do it...they were far too young to be comfortable with boy-girl stuff, but somehow Max and Liz had been paired and everyone could tell....for the two of them, the rest of the room and all the people in it had ceased to exist for that dance. Liz had glowed...Max had never looked happier. Max, the boy who really never looked happy had looked like all of his dreams had come true.
And that was eating at Kyle, too. Max. Max in jail. He didn't really worry about Max being in jail...eventually the truth would be known, and he had no doubt Max would be freed. What bothered him was that his father was wasting time on the wrong guy.
It was probably the silence in the room that allowed him to hear them when they came in.....the silence and the fact that he was sitting in the rear booth, but when they came in the back door, he heard them talking to one another.
"Jeff, I'm so afraid...what if they can't get that boy to talk?"
"I don't know, Nancy...I just don't know. I was so sure that he was involved..he has to be involved...it's the only way he could have that receipt...but if he is...I don't think Valenti scares him...I don't think that big state policeman scares him...he sure didn't seem scared when I hit him. I don't know how they'd get anything out of him."
"There must be something they can do...truth serum...a lie detector...something."
"No they can't...they can't do anything...nobody can...'
'I may feel like crap,' thought Kyle Valenti, 'but Max has to feel even worse. I'm not doing any good here....no one is. Maybe I can at least help Max.'
Kyle left the money next to his uneaten meal and left for the Sheriff's office.
11:45 AM Prisoner short-term detention area, Chaves county Sheriff’s Office, Roswell New Mexico
“Kyle, I can’t let you in there. You know that.”
“Frank, we’ve known each other for ten years…give me a break here, OK?”
Deputy Frank Mason looked at Kyle Valenti. He had indeed known him since age six…when Kyle and Jimmy Mason had played peewee football together. “OK Kyle,..do you have anything that can be used as a weapon? Anything at all?”
“Of course not, Frank.”
“Okay then, you can talk to him…but just talk. Stay away from the bars, don’t get within arms length of them, you got that?”
“I got it. Thanks, Frank.”
He went through the door and looked into the cell, seeing him sitting there.
“Hello, Max..”
“Kyle….I didn’t do anything to her, I would never hurt Liz, never have tried to force her to do anything.”
“I know that, Max. You wouldn’t have had to. I could tell how she felt about you. Her eyes just followed you, any time you were around. I believe you. Max.”
“Yeah, well tell that to your dad and to that obnoxious state cop.”
“Hey, Humboldt isn’t so bad. He was one of my childhood heroes,..back when I played peewee league football.”
“Heroes?”
“Yeah, haven’t you noticed his ring? He was on the Oklahoma team that won the Big Twelve Championship, went on to kick ass in the Fiesta Bowl.”
“Oklahoma?”
“Yeah, he was quite a story. Small-town kid, quarterback of the Iowa state high school championship football team, hell he WAS the team. He got recruited to go to Oklahoma but his grades weren’t good enough…had to go a year to a little community college in Iowa to get his grades up….then led the Sooners for two years. Everybody thought he’d be a big NFL star until the knee injury. After that I guess the NFL wasn’t interested in him.”
“Iowa,..Kyle? You’re sure?”
“Pretty sure, Max. Why? Is it important?”
“Kyle…go get your dad. Tell him I need to see him….that I need to see him RIGHT NOW.”
“Max, he’s busy trying to find Liz….the time is almost up. He doesn’t have time and…hell, I’m not even supposed to be here.”
“Get him, Kyle. Liz’s life may depend on it.”
“I’ll try, Max…but he isn’t going to come, no matter what I tell him.”
“Tell him I have to see him now, Kyle. Tell him I want to..to confess.”
“Confess? That’s bullshit Max, and you know it.”
“Just do it Kyle…please.”
He was sitting in the back booth trying to eat the Will Smith, but he had no appetite. All he could think of was that the minutes were becoming hours, and Liz Parker couldn't have that many left. The whole restaurant was quiet...depressed...morose. Maria had tears in her eyes when she'd taken his order, Jose had tears in his eyes as he'd prepared it, and Kyle Valenti was sitting there...having pushed one french fry back and forth in the ketchup until it had almost dissolved, the rest of the meal untouched, with no appetitie whatsoever.
It had been a mistake to come here, but somehow all Liz's friends had gravitated here in the last few hours..somehow wanting to be close to her...or at least the memory of her. The rumors had gone around the room..mostly about Max. Kyle still didn't believe them. He still remembered the rainy day in fifth grade physical education when they'd been forced to stay inside by a rare September thunderstorm and the teacher had made them square dance.
Nobody had wanted to do it...they were far too young to be comfortable with boy-girl stuff, but somehow Max and Liz had been paired and everyone could tell....for the two of them, the rest of the room and all the people in it had ceased to exist for that dance. Liz had glowed...Max had never looked happier. Max, the boy who really never looked happy had looked like all of his dreams had come true.
And that was eating at Kyle, too. Max. Max in jail. He didn't really worry about Max being in jail...eventually the truth would be known, and he had no doubt Max would be freed. What bothered him was that his father was wasting time on the wrong guy.
It was probably the silence in the room that allowed him to hear them when they came in.....the silence and the fact that he was sitting in the rear booth, but when they came in the back door, he heard them talking to one another.
"Jeff, I'm so afraid...what if they can't get that boy to talk?"
"I don't know, Nancy...I just don't know. I was so sure that he was involved..he has to be involved...it's the only way he could have that receipt...but if he is...I don't think Valenti scares him...I don't think that big state policeman scares him...he sure didn't seem scared when I hit him. I don't know how they'd get anything out of him."
"There must be something they can do...truth serum...a lie detector...something."
"No they can't...they can't do anything...nobody can...'
'I may feel like crap,' thought Kyle Valenti, 'but Max has to feel even worse. I'm not doing any good here....no one is. Maybe I can at least help Max.'
Kyle left the money next to his uneaten meal and left for the Sheriff's office.
11:45 AM Prisoner short-term detention area, Chaves county Sheriff’s Office, Roswell New Mexico
“Kyle, I can’t let you in there. You know that.”
“Frank, we’ve known each other for ten years…give me a break here, OK?”
Deputy Frank Mason looked at Kyle Valenti. He had indeed known him since age six…when Kyle and Jimmy Mason had played peewee football together. “OK Kyle,..do you have anything that can be used as a weapon? Anything at all?”
“Of course not, Frank.”
“Okay then, you can talk to him…but just talk. Stay away from the bars, don’t get within arms length of them, you got that?”
“I got it. Thanks, Frank.”
He went through the door and looked into the cell, seeing him sitting there.
“Hello, Max..”
“Kyle….I didn’t do anything to her, I would never hurt Liz, never have tried to force her to do anything.”
“I know that, Max. You wouldn’t have had to. I could tell how she felt about you. Her eyes just followed you, any time you were around. I believe you. Max.”
“Yeah, well tell that to your dad and to that obnoxious state cop.”
“Hey, Humboldt isn’t so bad. He was one of my childhood heroes,..back when I played peewee league football.”
“Heroes?”
“Yeah, haven’t you noticed his ring? He was on the Oklahoma team that won the Big Twelve Championship, went on to kick ass in the Fiesta Bowl.”
“Oklahoma?”
“Yeah, he was quite a story. Small-town kid, quarterback of the Iowa state high school championship football team, hell he WAS the team. He got recruited to go to Oklahoma but his grades weren’t good enough…had to go a year to a little community college in Iowa to get his grades up….then led the Sooners for two years. Everybody thought he’d be a big NFL star until the knee injury. After that I guess the NFL wasn’t interested in him.”
“Iowa,..Kyle? You’re sure?”
“Pretty sure, Max. Why? Is it important?”
“Kyle…go get your dad. Tell him I need to see him….that I need to see him RIGHT NOW.”
“Max, he’s busy trying to find Liz….the time is almost up. He doesn’t have time and…hell, I’m not even supposed to be here.”
“Get him, Kyle. Liz’s life may depend on it.”
“I’ll try, Max…but he isn’t going to come, no matter what I tell him.”
“Tell him I have to see him now, Kyle. Tell him I want to..to confess.”
“Confess? That’s bullshit Max, and you know it.”
“Just do it Kyle…please.”
11:52 AM Prisoner short-term detention area, Chaves county Sheriff’s Office, Roswell New Mexico
'This is too easy,' thought Bob Humboldt, and that wasn't good. He'd learned in football that when something was too easy, when it looked too good to be true, it was usually some kind of a fake. As he followed the Sheriff toward solitary confinement he stopped at the desk and looked at Frank Mason. "Deputy," he said, "that little girl's going to die if we don't get information from this kid. You might want to go get a doughnut or something for ten or fifteen minutes, Then you won't have to answer any embarassing questions from the kids lawyer-daddy."
Deputy Mason was uncomfortable but he knew Liz, liked her...he was becoming as desperate as anyone else. He nodded slowly, and turned to go to the break room.
"Max, what's going on," said Valenti. "We don't have time to get your father here for a conference...it's just you and us. If you know where Liz is, spill it, and if we can save her I'll do what I can to tell the judge you helped. Otherwise, stop wasting my time."
"I don't know where Liz is, Sheriff. But he does.."
"Me? You're crazy kid," said Humboldt.
"You did the first one in Iowa. Why? Did you really kill someone just because she had a scholarship to Oklahoma..and you couldn't go there because you were academically inelgible? Did you kill someone just for that? And why the girl in Oklahoma? Angry that you couldn't play because of the knee...that the NFL didn't want you? That the crowds weren't cheering for you any more?"
"Max, this is crazy," said Valenti. "He's a police officer...he's on the team to catch the guy...along with Doc Fowler.." and as he said her name, Valenti realized...realized what had been bothering him ever since he'd seen the look of shock in Humboldt's eyes when they'd found out about the doc being shot.....it hadn't occurred when they'd thought she was dead...he'd handled that. It had occurred when they found out she was in the hospital...still alive....all at once the pieces of the puzzle started to fall in place for Valenti.
Humboldt looked at the Sheriff. He had won the Fiesta bowl by being able to read the eyes of the opposing linebackers, because the eyes told you everything. Was it a linebacker blitz? Or was the linebacker going to fall back in deep coverage? Was it man on man...or a zone? You read it in the eyes. And he read it in Valenti's eyes as well, ...he could almost see the pieces falling into place...but not quick enough...not nearly quick enough.
Valenti looked at Humboldt, the realization dawning on him that the boy was right...but it was already too late. He was looking squarely into the barrel of Humbold't service automatic.
"You are too damn smart for your own good, kid." Humboldt said as he pulled the automatic from Valenti's holster. "If you'd just stayed out of it, they would have found the girls body when I sent the second letter...known that it wasn't you because the box was the same. The serial killer would have gotten credit for the girl, and you'd have just walked. I could have kept watching that oh-so-brilliant Doctor Fowler and everyone else making fools of themselves. But this will work out too." He switched to the Sheriff's automatic as he continued, "..the Sheriff got too close to the bars...you grabbed his gun...killed him...then I had to shoot you. It'll all work out."
Valenti looked from Humboldt to the Evans kid, knowing their only chance was for him to try for the gun. If he rushed him...sure, he'd take a bullet...maybe die. But maybe that'd bring Deputy Mason in ...maybe he'd get there in time to save the boy. He gathered himself for the leap, knowing he had only seconds before Humboldt would pull the trigger anyway.
As he brought the Sheriff's gun up to cover him, Bob Humboldt smiled..this was just like a target at the range, just aim for the center of mass and squeeze. But as Max kicked the cell door it swung open abruptly, and he watched the gun fly out of his hand as the door struck his forearm, the surprise slowing him even more than the pain. He saw Valenti gdive for the gun, and went after it...knowing even as he did so that the Sheriff had a big lead....
Valenti had been ready to jump when he saw the door swing open..he barely hesitated, changing his target from the big man to the small gun at the base of the wall. He saw in his peripheral vision as Humboldt jumped too, but he got to the gun first...found the trigger..and turned to see Humboldt's face only feet away.
"Freeze. Don't move an inch..., you son of a bitch..."
'This is too easy,' thought Bob Humboldt, and that wasn't good. He'd learned in football that when something was too easy, when it looked too good to be true, it was usually some kind of a fake. As he followed the Sheriff toward solitary confinement he stopped at the desk and looked at Frank Mason. "Deputy," he said, "that little girl's going to die if we don't get information from this kid. You might want to go get a doughnut or something for ten or fifteen minutes, Then you won't have to answer any embarassing questions from the kids lawyer-daddy."
Deputy Mason was uncomfortable but he knew Liz, liked her...he was becoming as desperate as anyone else. He nodded slowly, and turned to go to the break room.
"Max, what's going on," said Valenti. "We don't have time to get your father here for a conference...it's just you and us. If you know where Liz is, spill it, and if we can save her I'll do what I can to tell the judge you helped. Otherwise, stop wasting my time."
"I don't know where Liz is, Sheriff. But he does.."
"Me? You're crazy kid," said Humboldt.
"You did the first one in Iowa. Why? Did you really kill someone just because she had a scholarship to Oklahoma..and you couldn't go there because you were academically inelgible? Did you kill someone just for that? And why the girl in Oklahoma? Angry that you couldn't play because of the knee...that the NFL didn't want you? That the crowds weren't cheering for you any more?"
"Max, this is crazy," said Valenti. "He's a police officer...he's on the team to catch the guy...along with Doc Fowler.." and as he said her name, Valenti realized...realized what had been bothering him ever since he'd seen the look of shock in Humboldt's eyes when they'd found out about the doc being shot.....it hadn't occurred when they'd thought she was dead...he'd handled that. It had occurred when they found out she was in the hospital...still alive....all at once the pieces of the puzzle started to fall in place for Valenti.
Humboldt looked at the Sheriff. He had won the Fiesta bowl by being able to read the eyes of the opposing linebackers, because the eyes told you everything. Was it a linebacker blitz? Or was the linebacker going to fall back in deep coverage? Was it man on man...or a zone? You read it in the eyes. And he read it in Valenti's eyes as well, ...he could almost see the pieces falling into place...but not quick enough...not nearly quick enough.
Valenti looked at Humboldt, the realization dawning on him that the boy was right...but it was already too late. He was looking squarely into the barrel of Humbold't service automatic.
"You are too damn smart for your own good, kid." Humboldt said as he pulled the automatic from Valenti's holster. "If you'd just stayed out of it, they would have found the girls body when I sent the second letter...known that it wasn't you because the box was the same. The serial killer would have gotten credit for the girl, and you'd have just walked. I could have kept watching that oh-so-brilliant Doctor Fowler and everyone else making fools of themselves. But this will work out too." He switched to the Sheriff's automatic as he continued, "..the Sheriff got too close to the bars...you grabbed his gun...killed him...then I had to shoot you. It'll all work out."
Valenti looked from Humboldt to the Evans kid, knowing their only chance was for him to try for the gun. If he rushed him...sure, he'd take a bullet...maybe die. But maybe that'd bring Deputy Mason in ...maybe he'd get there in time to save the boy. He gathered himself for the leap, knowing he had only seconds before Humboldt would pull the trigger anyway.
As he brought the Sheriff's gun up to cover him, Bob Humboldt smiled..this was just like a target at the range, just aim for the center of mass and squeeze. But as Max kicked the cell door it swung open abruptly, and he watched the gun fly out of his hand as the door struck his forearm, the surprise slowing him even more than the pain. He saw Valenti gdive for the gun, and went after it...knowing even as he did so that the Sheriff had a big lead....
Valenti had been ready to jump when he saw the door swing open..he barely hesitated, changing his target from the big man to the small gun at the base of the wall. He saw in his peripheral vision as Humboldt jumped too, but he got to the gun first...found the trigger..and turned to see Humboldt's face only feet away.
"Freeze. Don't move an inch..., you son of a bitch..."
Last edited by greywolf on Thu Mar 22, 2007 2:00 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Humboldt froze, looking into the barrel of the 9mm. "Well, you can't win them all.."
"Where is she, you bastard," asked Valenti. "Tell me right now. If she's still alive, I'll testify to the judge that you tried to help. It might keep you from getting the death penalty."
"The death penalty!" Humboldt said, laughing. "I'm not going to get the death penalty, Sheriff...even YOU know better than that. Hell, if I'd killed just one of those girls and been caught...maybe then I would. But you kill four...kill them in a bizarre way..something that makes you famous..or infamous...then you aren't a criminal any more Sheriff. You are just sick...mentally disturbed. Hell, I'll have people defending me for free..donating their services. I'm not a criminal, Sheriff,...I couldn't be...I'm too famous. There will be dozens of psychiatrists who don't like the death penalty saying that I'm not criminal..just sick. I'll spend a few years in a mental hospital telling the shrinks what they want to hear..then they'll say I'm cured. I'll be out before this kid is done with college..have someone ghost write a book for me...I'll be rich. Shit, I might even play myself in the movie...wouldn't that be great."
"Just tell us where Liz is," said the boy. "Just tell us that.."
Humboldt just smirked. "Hell kid, I got nothing against that girl really, just picked her at random. Too bad you got the hots for her, but there are plenty of other girls out there..trust me. And if I gave her up...well, I wouldn't be a monster then, I'd just be a criminal. I'm afraid your girlfriend has to die...I can't give up my defense now, can I?"
The blood drained from Valenti's face when he heard Humboldt talk, it was all he could do to not pull the trigger. And the worst of it was that he knew that Humboldt was right...thay he would be famous, and that the people who were against capital punishment would fund his defense..provide him psychiatrists that would say just that...that the man well might get off with a few years in some mental hospital.
Valentis hand shook with rage and his voice was filled with hatred as he told Humboldt, "Turn around and put your hands behind your back you son of a bitch,...you have a right to remain silent.."
And then the world seemed to explode and Valenti found the pistol knocked from his hand as if by some invisible force as he was flung against the wall and held there as if gravity had suddenly gone wild. Two feet to his side was Humboldt..also stuck to the wall like a fly in flypaper.
Valenti looked to the open doorway to the cell and saw Max Evans standing there, his right palm glowing golden..the same golden fire visible deep in his amber eyes...eyes that glowed like the eyes of a demon.
"No he doesn't," the boy said softly, ....slowly, "He has no right to stand there silent...while Liz dies."
"Where is she, you bastard," asked Valenti. "Tell me right now. If she's still alive, I'll testify to the judge that you tried to help. It might keep you from getting the death penalty."
"The death penalty!" Humboldt said, laughing. "I'm not going to get the death penalty, Sheriff...even YOU know better than that. Hell, if I'd killed just one of those girls and been caught...maybe then I would. But you kill four...kill them in a bizarre way..something that makes you famous..or infamous...then you aren't a criminal any more Sheriff. You are just sick...mentally disturbed. Hell, I'll have people defending me for free..donating their services. I'm not a criminal, Sheriff,...I couldn't be...I'm too famous. There will be dozens of psychiatrists who don't like the death penalty saying that I'm not criminal..just sick. I'll spend a few years in a mental hospital telling the shrinks what they want to hear..then they'll say I'm cured. I'll be out before this kid is done with college..have someone ghost write a book for me...I'll be rich. Shit, I might even play myself in the movie...wouldn't that be great."
"Just tell us where Liz is," said the boy. "Just tell us that.."
Humboldt just smirked. "Hell kid, I got nothing against that girl really, just picked her at random. Too bad you got the hots for her, but there are plenty of other girls out there..trust me. And if I gave her up...well, I wouldn't be a monster then, I'd just be a criminal. I'm afraid your girlfriend has to die...I can't give up my defense now, can I?"
The blood drained from Valenti's face when he heard Humboldt talk, it was all he could do to not pull the trigger. And the worst of it was that he knew that Humboldt was right...thay he would be famous, and that the people who were against capital punishment would fund his defense..provide him psychiatrists that would say just that...that the man well might get off with a few years in some mental hospital.
Valentis hand shook with rage and his voice was filled with hatred as he told Humboldt, "Turn around and put your hands behind your back you son of a bitch,...you have a right to remain silent.."
And then the world seemed to explode and Valenti found the pistol knocked from his hand as if by some invisible force as he was flung against the wall and held there as if gravity had suddenly gone wild. Two feet to his side was Humboldt..also stuck to the wall like a fly in flypaper.
Valenti looked to the open doorway to the cell and saw Max Evans standing there, his right palm glowing golden..the same golden fire visible deep in his amber eyes...eyes that glowed like the eyes of a demon.
"No he doesn't," the boy said softly, ....slowly, "He has no right to stand there silent...while Liz dies."
Last edited by greywolf on Thu Mar 22, 2007 3:19 pm, edited 2 times in total.