Tuesday night 11:00PM, Liz Parker’s bedroom.
Liz had drifted off to sleep at 9:00PM, still way behind on sleep from her time in the bank vault and the sleepless hours when she still had four broken ribs.
Her parents had been adamant that she stay in, rest, and take it easy, and while they had allowed Maria to visit for a few hours, they had made it clear that she was to stay in her room and rest, with no other visitors. They had even brought her dinner to her room, joining her for a little “family time,” which Liz had found rather awkward.
The natural thing of course, would have been for them to ask her just what happened in the vault, but both her parents seemed to go out of there way to avoid that very subject. In fact, Liz herself was confused about a lot of it. Just before Max had been shot he’d connected to her, urging her toward the corner of the vault, throwing his body over his as the bullets richocheted wildly throughout the vault. When he’d been hit she felt the pain through the connection, felt the damage going in to him.
She had been stunned by it, staggered. Her next coherent thought, and that was a brief one, was of Garber starting his attack upon her. She had fought against him, managed to get one hand free and rake it across his eyes, but it was a battle she knew she was going to lose.
The struggle ended unexpectedly when the powerblast came from Max, sending Garber and McMillan flying, breaking her own forearm as Garber flew off still gripping it and dragging her halfway toward the wall before she tore away from him. The lights had gone out as McMillan’s body had impacted on the circuit breaker panel, and Liz felt like her lights had gone out as well.
Sometime later she’d recovered, she wasn’t sure just how long it had been, and the clock had been no help either, its hands unmoving in the soft glow of the emergency lights. Max woke up shortly after that, looking half-dead and had looked horrified at the sight of her misshapen forearm. He had cried out that he was so sorry he had hurt her and exhausted himself further to heal it. They had quarreled over her other injuries and she was still unsure he wouldn’t have healed them despite her protests and explanations if he hadn’t already been so exhausted.
But that whole period, from Max getting shot to him waking up and healing her forearm was so hazy, it seemed like it was buried in her mind, she could almost recall it, but not quite. And of course Liz really couldn’t tell her parents about the broken forearm, or it being healed, and certainly not about the argument over the rest of her injuries. The hours they’d spent, gently holding one another (gentle by necessity, because of the ribs) and talking about the future they wanted as a couple were kind of private, and certainly nothing her parents would have understood since they believed that she barely knew Max.
‘Funny,’ Liz thought. ‘In a way that would have been right.’ She and Max hadn’t even been out on a real date. ‘Of course’ she told herself, ‘you can learn a lot about someone when he saves your life a few times, and connects with you and you see into each others souls, and he spends a weekend all alone with you in a dimly lit vault.’
By 11:00PM Liz was deep in REM sleep, her dreams taking her back to that Saturday. She had been frightened when the bank robbers had appeared, but thought that they would just take the money and go, and her father had long ago taught her that a bank deposit was nothing to risk getting hurt over, let alone dying for. But the robbers seemed to be amateurs, nervous and making stupid mistakes. Liz could see Mr. Fillmore, the bank president push a silent alarm, and thought that at least one of the tellers did so also.
When the first police car appeared and the enraged gunman shot Mr. Fillmore with the shotgun, her fears turned to terror. Then Max was there, coming out of nowhere he suddenly was between Liz and the gunmen, shielding her as McMillan crowded them into the vault to use them as hostages.
When the AK-47 opened up in full automatic fire from within the vault, it leaped in Garber’s hands, striking the closing door, a stream of bullets ricocheting wildly within the enclosing vault. Through the connection Max was shouting at her to go to the corner, while his body was pushing her there, shielding her from the deadly fire. Through the connection she felt the bullet strike Max in the left temple, slashing through the skin, fracturing and depressing the underlying skull and sending splinters knifing through his left cerebellum, while the shock of the bullets passing transmitted concussive waves throughout his brain. The left middle meningeal artery was ripped through by a bone fragment, the cavernous sinus torn by the transmitted forces. At that point, Max Evans had begun to die, and deep in her soul, Liz Parker knew it. The scream in her heart as she relived this in the dream broke forth through her lips in the real world.
Jeff and Nancy Parker had been restless with bad dreams of their own, but both came instantly awake when they heard the scream from their daughter’s bedroom. By the time they got to her side, she was quieter, but was still clearly disturbed within whatever nightmare she was having. Neither knew if they should wake her, or let her sleep. Nancy held her child, embracing her tightly, and she gradually quieted down. Eventually Jeff moved two chairs next to his daughter’s bed, and they both reclined beside her, each taking a hand. Eventually she slept quietly, and they stayed there quietly, tears trickling down their cheeks in the dim light.
The injuries to Max were not immediately fatal, but they were inevitably fatal. With instant access to the best of neurosurgical care, Max might have lived although his impairment would have been great. But being locked away from such help was a death sentence. Liz’s brain was intact, but her mind was devastated by the force of the injury she had experienced through the connection. Her mind retreated to a near catatonic state, her body holding the bleeding head of Max Evans, her mouth softly saying his name, her hands gently caressing his hair.
But deep within Liz Parker, deep below the level of her now impaired consciousness, was another level, an older level, a level not of rationality, but of the essence of life itself, of the very soul of Liz Parker. And at that level, at a level that didn’t know the limits of the reality of the physical world, the soul of Liz Parker tossed itself into the connection, seeking the soul of Max Evans.
Deep within the shattered brain of Max Evans, this same ancient energy still flickered, sensing that the time of death was near, spending itself seeking only one last look at the one whose continued life made his death worthwhile. And somewhere those two souls found each other, they danced briefly together, rejoicing in the nearness of the other, and then as Max Evan’s brain continued to fail from further blood loss and the swelling from the concussion, his energy dimmed, now only a spark, barely glowing in the darkness. At that, the soul of Liz Parker screamed in agony, and in the real world, her body writhed in her bed.
Both parents stared helplessly at their daughter, watching her thrash briefly. A few cries escaped her lips, and then a sob. Her mother held her close, running her hands through the sleeping girl’s hair, while her father held both mother and daughter tightly, instinctively trying to protect both.
The consciousness of Liz Parker was educated and rational. It was the product of 16 years of learning and the inheritor of thousands of years of human culture. Even impaired as it was that consciousness realized there was no hope for Max Evans. In despair, it retreated into madness, sending the young girl into a near catatonic state. The soul of Liz Parker understood much less, only its need, and this need went beyond any constraints of rational thought. The need was great, greater than the need for life itself, and eventually her soul found a way.
Was it a memory of how Liz herself had been healed? Was it a resonance remembered from the energy that had dissolved a bullet from Liz Parker on the floor of the Crashdown four weeks ago? Did her soul reach into the shattered mind of Max Evans through the connection, and activate his power to form the healing energies?
The mind of Liz Parker might never know, and the soul of Liz Parker only cared that its need was being met. Slowly, ever so slowly, the energy flowed out of Liz Parker and into Max Evans. Slowly, ever so slowly, the flickering spark that was the soul of Max Evans was fanned by that energy, built back up, strengthened and made whole.
His body was not yet repaired, but the destruction had been stopped, and slowly, ever so slowly, his body started to win the once impossible battle. As his soul strengthened it reached out to hers, and they fluttered around each other, softly touching, intertwining and rejoicing in their togetherness.
This was not yet a joining of those souls, but rather a dance of betrothal for them. Each soul in its turn had come to the brink of the abyss, and been pulled back by the other. There was not yet a union between them, but there was a promise of that union someday. But right now was a time of healing. Right now was a time of quiet joy.
In her dream, Liz looked down at the face of Max, his head cradled in her lap, the blood slowing to a trickle. He was hurt, he was terribly hurt. But he had stopped getting worse, and was now slowly getting better. “Oh Max…,” she said softly, too softly to be heard by the parents nestled against her as she lay in her bed.
The Vault (M/L, Mature) (COMPLETE)
Moderators: Itzstacie, Forum Moderators
Wednesday Morning 1:00AM, Liz Parker’s bedroom
The Parkers’ recliners were pushed against Liz’s bed on either side, and each held one of her hands. Sleep had finally come to them all, but a troubled sleep, a sleep of darkness, nightmares, and sudden fears.
Liz’s soul had rejoiced as the energy slowly flowed into Max, slowly closing the wound, slowly healing his body. Her soul played and replayed the memory of the bullet strike, feeling again the pain each time, but using the pain as a guide, forcing the severed nerve ends back to unite with their other halves, binding together torn vessels and membranes. The task was long but the issue was not in doubt. Her soul knew only its need, cared about nothing but its task.
But the physical world intruded upon the task and the needs of Liz’s soul. As Garber pulled her body away from Max, the connection dimmed. Frantically, her soul flashed through Liz’s brain, still almost catatonic from the pain of Max’s injury, multiplied a thousand times by the repetitions of that pain that guided the healing process. As Garber kicked her and struck her, the soul of Liz Parker seized control from her now unconscious mind and stared out at Garber through her eyes.
Garber savored the fear he found in the eyes of the girl as he cruelly gripped her.
But suddenly a change came into her eyes as her consciousness was taken over by the primal force that lurked at her core. Garber saw in the girl’s face a savagery that exceeded even his own and was surprised as she pulled her right arm away from him while driving a knee deep into his groin. The free hand did not hesitate as it sought his face, a fingernail slashing quickly through his left eyelid, through the cornea, the fingertip briefly imbedding itself deep in the ruined globe of his eye, pulling back only to seek his face yet again. Garber screamed in agony as he grabbed at her free hand, not seeing in the background an almost lifeless body rise only high enough to raise a palm toward him. The palm flashed with a golden glow, and the body of Max Evans fell back to the vault floor.
As the blast tore through the vault above her head it struck both of the men standing there, their flesh deforming from the impact, their bones breaking when they could not deform fast enough to cushion the energy of that blast, the force wreaking havoc within the bodies even before they thudded grotesquely against the wall.
Max had been weakened, already near death, but his soul had felt the fury of Liz’s soul through the weakened connection, and nothing had been held back, whatever energy remained that was his to control was sent into that blast. The bodies of McMillan and Garber had sustained lethal injuries even before their flight was stopped abruptly by the metal wall of the vault, the body of McMillan crushing against the power panel to send the room into darkness.
The soul of Liz Parker did not care about the two lifeless hulks that slid to the base of the wall, did not care about the darkness, did not care even about the left forearm of Liz Parker dangling and misshapen, having been caught by the edge of the blast. Pushed by that soul, on knees and one arm the body of Liz Parker crawled to the still body of Max Evans, lifting up his damaged head softly, cradling it in her lap. His eyes opened one last time and as he saw her he knew he was dying. He severed the connection, pushing her away, fearing that if she stayed she too would die.
In the real world the sleeping body of Liz Parker screamed in agony, filled with a loss too great to bear as she remembered him leaving her. “No Max! Don’t! You mustn’t Max! Max, you can’t do this to me Max, No! No! No!….” And in her dream she recalled what had happened, how her soul had keened in its agony, and her body gave voice to that terror, that sorrow, and her shrill screams filled her room, filled the living area, and echoed down into the Crashdown itself.
Her struggles had awakened both parents. They tried to gently restrain her as she fought an unseen assailant, they heard her screams for Max to stop, tried to awaken her. But it was the unearthly wail from their daughter that had brought both parents to their feet, filling them with terror as they tried to hold her, tried to comfort her, tried to do anything that would bring her back to consciousness, bring her back to sanity.
In the dream, the soul of Liz Parker twisted in agony, continuing its keening as Max Evans became weaker and weaker. Liz Parker was only human, she could only do so much, and her mind might have someday come to peace with that. But her soul knew only its needs. Her soul knew that Max could form connections, therefore connections could be formed. Whether her soul learned how to form connections when she had been healed, or learned when it started to heal the injured brain of Max Evans did not matter, it found a way. Her soul forced open the connection and found in the failing body of Max Evans that his soul had not yet left.
A tiny ember, almost gone, was all that remained, but her soul knew neither reason nor doubt, only love, and it plunged into that ember, feeding the soul of Max Evans with its own substance, nourishing it, joining with it, rejoicing in its presence and fanning that spark with the energy of her own life force. And then her soul nestled quietly within his. For now they were one. Their souls had consummated their union, whatever happened to their bodies. They would go or stay together. If there was enough life force, the bodies would survive and if there was not then it really did not matter for their souls would still be together. The soul of Liz Parker and the soul of Max Evans enjoyed a contentment that neither had ever known before. All was well. Whatever happened, all was well.
In the bank vault the healing energy again began to flow from Liz Parker into the broken body of Max Evans. Their bodies were linked through the connection, he breathed when she breathed, because her body commanded it, his heart matched hers beat for beat, driven through the connection.
Liz Parker did not have Max Evans’ skill at healing for she was, after all, only human. It would take long hours, but the tide had again turned and life slowly flowed back into the body of Max Evans. Eventually the souls would separate, both changed fundamentally by the experience, both carrying for all eternity some of the life force of the other, they would never again be completely separate.
Jeff and Nancy Parker had finally been able to awaken their daughter as the nightmare had ebbed. Both were shaken to the core. Liz had said that she believed that she had some sort of a nightmare, but really couldn’t remember it. After Liz returned to sleep Jeff and Nancy talked briefly, then called the rape counselor from the hospital, scheduling an appointment for the late afternoon.
The Parkers’ recliners were pushed against Liz’s bed on either side, and each held one of her hands. Sleep had finally come to them all, but a troubled sleep, a sleep of darkness, nightmares, and sudden fears.
Liz’s soul had rejoiced as the energy slowly flowed into Max, slowly closing the wound, slowly healing his body. Her soul played and replayed the memory of the bullet strike, feeling again the pain each time, but using the pain as a guide, forcing the severed nerve ends back to unite with their other halves, binding together torn vessels and membranes. The task was long but the issue was not in doubt. Her soul knew only its need, cared about nothing but its task.
But the physical world intruded upon the task and the needs of Liz’s soul. As Garber pulled her body away from Max, the connection dimmed. Frantically, her soul flashed through Liz’s brain, still almost catatonic from the pain of Max’s injury, multiplied a thousand times by the repetitions of that pain that guided the healing process. As Garber kicked her and struck her, the soul of Liz Parker seized control from her now unconscious mind and stared out at Garber through her eyes.
Garber savored the fear he found in the eyes of the girl as he cruelly gripped her.
But suddenly a change came into her eyes as her consciousness was taken over by the primal force that lurked at her core. Garber saw in the girl’s face a savagery that exceeded even his own and was surprised as she pulled her right arm away from him while driving a knee deep into his groin. The free hand did not hesitate as it sought his face, a fingernail slashing quickly through his left eyelid, through the cornea, the fingertip briefly imbedding itself deep in the ruined globe of his eye, pulling back only to seek his face yet again. Garber screamed in agony as he grabbed at her free hand, not seeing in the background an almost lifeless body rise only high enough to raise a palm toward him. The palm flashed with a golden glow, and the body of Max Evans fell back to the vault floor.
As the blast tore through the vault above her head it struck both of the men standing there, their flesh deforming from the impact, their bones breaking when they could not deform fast enough to cushion the energy of that blast, the force wreaking havoc within the bodies even before they thudded grotesquely against the wall.
Max had been weakened, already near death, but his soul had felt the fury of Liz’s soul through the weakened connection, and nothing had been held back, whatever energy remained that was his to control was sent into that blast. The bodies of McMillan and Garber had sustained lethal injuries even before their flight was stopped abruptly by the metal wall of the vault, the body of McMillan crushing against the power panel to send the room into darkness.
The soul of Liz Parker did not care about the two lifeless hulks that slid to the base of the wall, did not care about the darkness, did not care even about the left forearm of Liz Parker dangling and misshapen, having been caught by the edge of the blast. Pushed by that soul, on knees and one arm the body of Liz Parker crawled to the still body of Max Evans, lifting up his damaged head softly, cradling it in her lap. His eyes opened one last time and as he saw her he knew he was dying. He severed the connection, pushing her away, fearing that if she stayed she too would die.
In the real world the sleeping body of Liz Parker screamed in agony, filled with a loss too great to bear as she remembered him leaving her. “No Max! Don’t! You mustn’t Max! Max, you can’t do this to me Max, No! No! No!….” And in her dream she recalled what had happened, how her soul had keened in its agony, and her body gave voice to that terror, that sorrow, and her shrill screams filled her room, filled the living area, and echoed down into the Crashdown itself.
Her struggles had awakened both parents. They tried to gently restrain her as she fought an unseen assailant, they heard her screams for Max to stop, tried to awaken her. But it was the unearthly wail from their daughter that had brought both parents to their feet, filling them with terror as they tried to hold her, tried to comfort her, tried to do anything that would bring her back to consciousness, bring her back to sanity.
In the dream, the soul of Liz Parker twisted in agony, continuing its keening as Max Evans became weaker and weaker. Liz Parker was only human, she could only do so much, and her mind might have someday come to peace with that. But her soul knew only its needs. Her soul knew that Max could form connections, therefore connections could be formed. Whether her soul learned how to form connections when she had been healed, or learned when it started to heal the injured brain of Max Evans did not matter, it found a way. Her soul forced open the connection and found in the failing body of Max Evans that his soul had not yet left.
A tiny ember, almost gone, was all that remained, but her soul knew neither reason nor doubt, only love, and it plunged into that ember, feeding the soul of Max Evans with its own substance, nourishing it, joining with it, rejoicing in its presence and fanning that spark with the energy of her own life force. And then her soul nestled quietly within his. For now they were one. Their souls had consummated their union, whatever happened to their bodies. They would go or stay together. If there was enough life force, the bodies would survive and if there was not then it really did not matter for their souls would still be together. The soul of Liz Parker and the soul of Max Evans enjoyed a contentment that neither had ever known before. All was well. Whatever happened, all was well.
In the bank vault the healing energy again began to flow from Liz Parker into the broken body of Max Evans. Their bodies were linked through the connection, he breathed when she breathed, because her body commanded it, his heart matched hers beat for beat, driven through the connection.
Liz Parker did not have Max Evans’ skill at healing for she was, after all, only human. It would take long hours, but the tide had again turned and life slowly flowed back into the body of Max Evans. Eventually the souls would separate, both changed fundamentally by the experience, both carrying for all eternity some of the life force of the other, they would never again be completely separate.
Jeff and Nancy Parker had finally been able to awaken their daughter as the nightmare had ebbed. Both were shaken to the core. Liz had said that she believed that she had some sort of a nightmare, but really couldn’t remember it. After Liz returned to sleep Jeff and Nancy talked briefly, then called the rape counselor from the hospital, scheduling an appointment for the late afternoon.
Wednesday Afternoon 4PM
Jeff and Nancy Parker went together into Lucy Frederickson’s office. They’d asked Maria to stay with Liz, not really giving her any reason for their absence, but Maria had been planning on going to see Liz anyway, to bring her homework assignments from school and they knew the girls would occupy one another for at least several hours.
After relating the story of Liz’s nightmares that morning, Ms. Frederickson shook her head. “A nightmare that severe that she could not remember? Screaming for Max Evans to stop repeatedly, stop doing something to her, but not recalling it when she was awakened? Mr. and Mrs. Parker, these are not the usual reactions of someone to a supposed protector. I believe that Max Evans likely did something to her, perhaps she is too afraid to tell you, perhaps it is a repressed memory from the severity of whatever trauma occurred.”
“But Ms. Frederickson…,” started Nancy Parker.
“Please call me Lucy.”
“Well Lucy, Liz seems to think fairly highly of the boy, even if she can’t remember everything that happened during her time in the vault. I know they don’t know each other all that well, but they have been schoolmates, even lab partners in one of her classes, and what little she’s said about him has always been positive. Given the circumstances, don’t you think it’s reasonable she would have some nightmares?”
“Some nightmares? Yes, certainly. But you say she specifically told him to stop doing something to her. Tell me. Did she have a full rape exam at the ER?”
Jeff Parker looked shocked, “She said that wasn’t necessary, that Max stopped the men. She was badly beaten, but wasn’t raped. Max stopped them. She said that!”
Lucy Frederickson looked at both of the parents and shook her head. “He certainly stopped them alright. Did you see the list of their injuries? He must have brutalized them for hours, with your daughter trapped in there, watching him do it. He beat on them long after they were unconscious, even hours after they were dead, and he made your daughter watch. What if after seeing all that savagery he came after her? Do you think she would be able to stop him, stop someone strong enough to kill two armed adult men? Do you think she would even try to stop him? Or to tell on him? Or perhaps it was less painful to simply not remember what happened to her, to deny it even to herself, to spare herself the humiliation, the feeling of degradation. Unfortunately, this happens all the time in rape cases. It’s too late now. She needed a rape exam immediately, while his DNA was still retrievable. You made a bad mistake when you didn’t insist on that.”
Jeff Parker’s eyes flared. “I don’t care what Max Evans did to those two men, they deserved it!”
Lucy Frederickson shook her head, “But you don’t understand, that’s not the point. Normal people would never do something like Max did to those men. Stop them? Sure. Kill them? Maybe even that. But to spend hours bashing dead bodies? That isn’t the action of someone rational. That isn’t something you do just once. You train for that. You catch and kill little animals when you are young, desensitizing you to the point that you can do something so totally inhuman. That’s how serial killers get created.
Your daughter was trapped in there with him, and Max Evans demonstrated to her how cruel, how inhuman he could be. And he did it to intimidate her, because she was the only one alive in the room to be intimidated. And he did it because he wanted her in his power, because he wanted something from her, and I’m afraid that he got it. That’s why the rape test should have been done, Max Evans needs to be put away, not just to protect Liz, but to protect every woman in our society.”
Nancy Parker sat in the chair, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks. Jeff Parker held her, tried to comfort her, but his own heart was breaking.
Was Max Evans really some kind of inhuman monster? Clearly, the level of violence that had occurred in that room had been incredible. Was it really likely that their daughter could have come out of it unscathed?
Hadn’t it been this very Max Evans that the Sheriff had questioned about four weeks ago, after that terrible shooting incident in the Crashdown? Liz really hadn’t really acted normal since that time. The Sheriff had suspected that the boy might have done something to her even back then, in a restaurant with witnesses present. If he would do something under those circumstances, how much more might he do when he had her locked in a vault, unable to escape, and already injured? They’d both heard her daughter’s screams for Max to stop. But why would he stop, if Lizzie were helpless and alone. He could have done anything he wanted with her….
4:30 PM Liz Parker's bedroom
I tell you Maria, I just can’t believe how close I feel to Max. It’s like every minute I think of him. And here we are, sophomores in high school, years away from graduation. But I see Max coming and…..Heck, I don’t even HAVE to see Max coming Maria, I can feel him in my mind. I mean, how weird is that? It’s like Highlander or something, except instead of getting out a sword to chop someone’s head off, I start getting all fluttery and romantic.”
“Liz. Major item I forgot. Alex knows about the Czechoslovakians”.
“No… How did he find out? Do Isabel or Michael know he knows?”
“Yeah, they know alright. It was sort of my fault.”
“You TOLD Alex about the Czechoslovakians?” Liz asked.
“No, of course not. But Monday morning was really weird. Alex and I were in the Crashdown at 3 AM, waiting with your parents for the vault opening, and trying to comfort them and each other. Nobody had slept in a couple of days, and we were all just totally stressed out. The Sheriff came in to talk to both parents, and Alex and I got scooted away to one booth, and Isabel and Michael took one across the restaurant from us. The Sheriff was doing his best to give the parents some hope, but you could see he was just sick himself. Even the SWAT team guys eating at the counter were shaking their heads. It was almost as if he were telling your folks, hey, there’s a very small chance that your daughter isn’t really dead after all, merely gang-raped for the last 36 hours.
Then I just looked down and saw the Sunday paper and it told about Garber and McMillan. In addition to the stuff they’d been convicted for, there were like dozens of charges that never got to court because the parents didn’t want their kids to have to testify in court about what had been done to them, or because the women and girls were too embarrassed or ashamed to report their assaults in time to get evidence collected. And then these guys were given probation, and then just cut off their ankle monitors and walked away from a halfway house, like there was no security at all. I just plain lost it and started ranting and raving about the legal system, right there in front of Sheriff Valenti. Alex tried to calm me down, but I just kept getting madder and madder, and before I knew it I was saying stuff so angry that Michael Guerin came over, sat down, and agreed with me.
And is this bizarre or what, he was really nice to me, and told me he’d see that Garber and McMillan were put away. He says this right in front of the Sheriff, and then Isabel comes over and I think, “Uh-oh, major trouble.” And then even she was nice to me.
The Sheriff comes over and kind of tells us to not take the law into our own hands, and looks at Michael waiting for some sass or something, and Isabel jumps in and tells him to do his job, or she will, or words to that effect. By this time, Alex is looking like he just fell into the Twilight Zone.
Later on Alex went to talk to your Mom and Dad, and Michael and Isabel got up and left. I followed them, and we took off for the bank about 6:30 or so. Somehow Alex figured out what we were doing and where we were going, and he’d run ahead and gotten in front of us. When he saw us coming down the alley, he got in front of us trying to block us from the bank, saying the Sheriff had told us not to do anything stupid, and three untrained and unarmed teenagers are only going to get in trouble trying to mess around with career criminals. Michael tried to push him aside, Alex pushes back, Michael says we don’t have time to mess with him, and he ought to get out of the way. Alex says he’s not going to let Michael take the two of us into danger, and after they scuffle a little bit, Michael steps back and raises his palm for the power blast thing and Isabel and I both yelp “No!” Michael looks at us both like we are stupid for thinking he might actually hurt Alex, and turns his hand toward the brick wall behind the old gas station and there’s this big thud and brick dust flies everywhere. When it clears there’s about a 4 foot area where the wall has been crushed in about halfway, like a truck had hit it.
Alex’s eyes get huge and he starts to freak, shoving Isabel and me behind him and telling us to run. I see Isabel shaking her head at Michael, and then she turns Alex around and tells him to trust her, that Michael won’t hurt either of us, and that he should just go back to the restaurant, that she’d talk to him later about Michael. She gives him some sort of doe-eyed pleading look, and I actually thought he was going to go along with her for a minute, I know Alex has had a crush on her for years, even though he’s never really talked to her.
But then he sees the big crater in the wall, and tells her that she has no idea what Michael can do, and no way to stop him if he decides to hurt us. He turns back to take on Michael, the alien monster, and Isabel tells him that he’s wrong, that she knows exactly what Michael is capable of, and that while she might not be able to stop him…, and then kablooie, the dust flies again as SHE blasts another crater in the wall next to the first one, …she’s pretty sure she could slow him down.
I remembered how I freaked when I learned the big secret, and how you told me you had freaked, and I thought “Oh Lord, this is going to get ugly.”
“Well what happened?” asked Liz.
“It was bizarre, Liz. Like Michael the Czechoslovakian was a monster and everyone should run for their lives, but Isabel the Czechoslovakian….,, gee wasn’t that interesting, how flattered I am that you chose to let me know that… but oh yeah, time was wasting and didn’t we all have to get to the bank?” Maria shook her head, laughing. “It was pathetic, Liz, pathetic.
She had him on her “team” and he followed along like a puppy dog in heat. They took the one corner of the bank parking lot, we took another, and Isabel said either of those guys who came out of the bank not wearing handcuffs was fair game.
I think it was a Karma thing. Those two bastards were just destined to be killed by an alien this week, one way or another.
As for Alex “coping” with the secret, as long as he had Isabel on his side, I don’t think it even mattered. And once he figured out we really could take out those two if they got by the police, he was just as determined as anyone else.”
“So Alex and Ice Princess Isabel, who would have guessed?” Liz said shaking her head and grinning.
“Oh, it gets better,” said Maria. “When the time was up, the stress got unbelievable, wanting to know if you guys were alive, wanting to get those guys if they got away, just wanting the whole terrible thing to be over, for life to be normal again. And then the Sheriff stepped out of the bank all by himself, and walked straight to Isabel, standing with Alex on the other side of the parking lot from me and Michael. He said a few words to her and she busted out in tears, and flung herself on Alex’s shoulder, crying her heart out. I freaked, sure that you and Max were both dead, and Michael said not to worry, it’s OK, that was good news, that’s just how Izzie was.
Can you believe the Ice Princess let’s people call her “Izzie?”
Well we ran over to Isabel and Alex, and she’s just sobbing all over his shoulder, and hugging him, and laughing, and of course Alex is standing there with this big old dopey grin, maybe cause you and Max are alive, but probably just cause “Izzie” is just clinging to him like wallpaper. And then pretty soon everybody was hugging everybody, everyone was crying, and we were all going back to the Crashdown to tell your folks, to tell Max’s folks, that you guys were alive and everything would be OK.
And it was just great, Liz, all of us were so happy, all of us were so close, Isabel even started joking about herself, about being the ice princess, and about being an alien, and we were all kind of arm in arm, nobody much even thinking about the Czechoslovakian business, just too damn happy to care.
Later at the café, after the excitement died down a little, Isabel cornered Alex and gave him that same doe-eyed look and asked him not to tell anyone about Czechoslovakia. He still had that same dopey grin on his face. I think if she’d casually asked him to jump off a bridge so he wouldn’t reveal the secret he’d have smiled and said, “Yes Isabel”. I was hoping this was like Czechoslovakian hypnotism or something, but I think that’s really the way he feels. I picture an eternity of unrequited love for our friend”
Jeff and Nancy Parker went together into Lucy Frederickson’s office. They’d asked Maria to stay with Liz, not really giving her any reason for their absence, but Maria had been planning on going to see Liz anyway, to bring her homework assignments from school and they knew the girls would occupy one another for at least several hours.
After relating the story of Liz’s nightmares that morning, Ms. Frederickson shook her head. “A nightmare that severe that she could not remember? Screaming for Max Evans to stop repeatedly, stop doing something to her, but not recalling it when she was awakened? Mr. and Mrs. Parker, these are not the usual reactions of someone to a supposed protector. I believe that Max Evans likely did something to her, perhaps she is too afraid to tell you, perhaps it is a repressed memory from the severity of whatever trauma occurred.”
“But Ms. Frederickson…,” started Nancy Parker.
“Please call me Lucy.”
“Well Lucy, Liz seems to think fairly highly of the boy, even if she can’t remember everything that happened during her time in the vault. I know they don’t know each other all that well, but they have been schoolmates, even lab partners in one of her classes, and what little she’s said about him has always been positive. Given the circumstances, don’t you think it’s reasonable she would have some nightmares?”
“Some nightmares? Yes, certainly. But you say she specifically told him to stop doing something to her. Tell me. Did she have a full rape exam at the ER?”
Jeff Parker looked shocked, “She said that wasn’t necessary, that Max stopped the men. She was badly beaten, but wasn’t raped. Max stopped them. She said that!”
Lucy Frederickson looked at both of the parents and shook her head. “He certainly stopped them alright. Did you see the list of their injuries? He must have brutalized them for hours, with your daughter trapped in there, watching him do it. He beat on them long after they were unconscious, even hours after they were dead, and he made your daughter watch. What if after seeing all that savagery he came after her? Do you think she would be able to stop him, stop someone strong enough to kill two armed adult men? Do you think she would even try to stop him? Or to tell on him? Or perhaps it was less painful to simply not remember what happened to her, to deny it even to herself, to spare herself the humiliation, the feeling of degradation. Unfortunately, this happens all the time in rape cases. It’s too late now. She needed a rape exam immediately, while his DNA was still retrievable. You made a bad mistake when you didn’t insist on that.”
Jeff Parker’s eyes flared. “I don’t care what Max Evans did to those two men, they deserved it!”
Lucy Frederickson shook her head, “But you don’t understand, that’s not the point. Normal people would never do something like Max did to those men. Stop them? Sure. Kill them? Maybe even that. But to spend hours bashing dead bodies? That isn’t the action of someone rational. That isn’t something you do just once. You train for that. You catch and kill little animals when you are young, desensitizing you to the point that you can do something so totally inhuman. That’s how serial killers get created.
Your daughter was trapped in there with him, and Max Evans demonstrated to her how cruel, how inhuman he could be. And he did it to intimidate her, because she was the only one alive in the room to be intimidated. And he did it because he wanted her in his power, because he wanted something from her, and I’m afraid that he got it. That’s why the rape test should have been done, Max Evans needs to be put away, not just to protect Liz, but to protect every woman in our society.”
Nancy Parker sat in the chair, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks. Jeff Parker held her, tried to comfort her, but his own heart was breaking.
Was Max Evans really some kind of inhuman monster? Clearly, the level of violence that had occurred in that room had been incredible. Was it really likely that their daughter could have come out of it unscathed?
Hadn’t it been this very Max Evans that the Sheriff had questioned about four weeks ago, after that terrible shooting incident in the Crashdown? Liz really hadn’t really acted normal since that time. The Sheriff had suspected that the boy might have done something to her even back then, in a restaurant with witnesses present. If he would do something under those circumstances, how much more might he do when he had her locked in a vault, unable to escape, and already injured? They’d both heard her daughter’s screams for Max to stop. But why would he stop, if Lizzie were helpless and alone. He could have done anything he wanted with her….
4:30 PM Liz Parker's bedroom
I tell you Maria, I just can’t believe how close I feel to Max. It’s like every minute I think of him. And here we are, sophomores in high school, years away from graduation. But I see Max coming and…..Heck, I don’t even HAVE to see Max coming Maria, I can feel him in my mind. I mean, how weird is that? It’s like Highlander or something, except instead of getting out a sword to chop someone’s head off, I start getting all fluttery and romantic.”
“Liz. Major item I forgot. Alex knows about the Czechoslovakians”.
“No… How did he find out? Do Isabel or Michael know he knows?”
“Yeah, they know alright. It was sort of my fault.”
“You TOLD Alex about the Czechoslovakians?” Liz asked.
“No, of course not. But Monday morning was really weird. Alex and I were in the Crashdown at 3 AM, waiting with your parents for the vault opening, and trying to comfort them and each other. Nobody had slept in a couple of days, and we were all just totally stressed out. The Sheriff came in to talk to both parents, and Alex and I got scooted away to one booth, and Isabel and Michael took one across the restaurant from us. The Sheriff was doing his best to give the parents some hope, but you could see he was just sick himself. Even the SWAT team guys eating at the counter were shaking their heads. It was almost as if he were telling your folks, hey, there’s a very small chance that your daughter isn’t really dead after all, merely gang-raped for the last 36 hours.
Then I just looked down and saw the Sunday paper and it told about Garber and McMillan. In addition to the stuff they’d been convicted for, there were like dozens of charges that never got to court because the parents didn’t want their kids to have to testify in court about what had been done to them, or because the women and girls were too embarrassed or ashamed to report their assaults in time to get evidence collected. And then these guys were given probation, and then just cut off their ankle monitors and walked away from a halfway house, like there was no security at all. I just plain lost it and started ranting and raving about the legal system, right there in front of Sheriff Valenti. Alex tried to calm me down, but I just kept getting madder and madder, and before I knew it I was saying stuff so angry that Michael Guerin came over, sat down, and agreed with me.
And is this bizarre or what, he was really nice to me, and told me he’d see that Garber and McMillan were put away. He says this right in front of the Sheriff, and then Isabel comes over and I think, “Uh-oh, major trouble.” And then even she was nice to me.
The Sheriff comes over and kind of tells us to not take the law into our own hands, and looks at Michael waiting for some sass or something, and Isabel jumps in and tells him to do his job, or she will, or words to that effect. By this time, Alex is looking like he just fell into the Twilight Zone.
Later on Alex went to talk to your Mom and Dad, and Michael and Isabel got up and left. I followed them, and we took off for the bank about 6:30 or so. Somehow Alex figured out what we were doing and where we were going, and he’d run ahead and gotten in front of us. When he saw us coming down the alley, he got in front of us trying to block us from the bank, saying the Sheriff had told us not to do anything stupid, and three untrained and unarmed teenagers are only going to get in trouble trying to mess around with career criminals. Michael tried to push him aside, Alex pushes back, Michael says we don’t have time to mess with him, and he ought to get out of the way. Alex says he’s not going to let Michael take the two of us into danger, and after they scuffle a little bit, Michael steps back and raises his palm for the power blast thing and Isabel and I both yelp “No!” Michael looks at us both like we are stupid for thinking he might actually hurt Alex, and turns his hand toward the brick wall behind the old gas station and there’s this big thud and brick dust flies everywhere. When it clears there’s about a 4 foot area where the wall has been crushed in about halfway, like a truck had hit it.
Alex’s eyes get huge and he starts to freak, shoving Isabel and me behind him and telling us to run. I see Isabel shaking her head at Michael, and then she turns Alex around and tells him to trust her, that Michael won’t hurt either of us, and that he should just go back to the restaurant, that she’d talk to him later about Michael. She gives him some sort of doe-eyed pleading look, and I actually thought he was going to go along with her for a minute, I know Alex has had a crush on her for years, even though he’s never really talked to her.
But then he sees the big crater in the wall, and tells her that she has no idea what Michael can do, and no way to stop him if he decides to hurt us. He turns back to take on Michael, the alien monster, and Isabel tells him that he’s wrong, that she knows exactly what Michael is capable of, and that while she might not be able to stop him…, and then kablooie, the dust flies again as SHE blasts another crater in the wall next to the first one, …she’s pretty sure she could slow him down.
I remembered how I freaked when I learned the big secret, and how you told me you had freaked, and I thought “Oh Lord, this is going to get ugly.”
“Well what happened?” asked Liz.
“It was bizarre, Liz. Like Michael the Czechoslovakian was a monster and everyone should run for their lives, but Isabel the Czechoslovakian….,, gee wasn’t that interesting, how flattered I am that you chose to let me know that… but oh yeah, time was wasting and didn’t we all have to get to the bank?” Maria shook her head, laughing. “It was pathetic, Liz, pathetic.
She had him on her “team” and he followed along like a puppy dog in heat. They took the one corner of the bank parking lot, we took another, and Isabel said either of those guys who came out of the bank not wearing handcuffs was fair game.
I think it was a Karma thing. Those two bastards were just destined to be killed by an alien this week, one way or another.
As for Alex “coping” with the secret, as long as he had Isabel on his side, I don’t think it even mattered. And once he figured out we really could take out those two if they got by the police, he was just as determined as anyone else.”
“So Alex and Ice Princess Isabel, who would have guessed?” Liz said shaking her head and grinning.
“Oh, it gets better,” said Maria. “When the time was up, the stress got unbelievable, wanting to know if you guys were alive, wanting to get those guys if they got away, just wanting the whole terrible thing to be over, for life to be normal again. And then the Sheriff stepped out of the bank all by himself, and walked straight to Isabel, standing with Alex on the other side of the parking lot from me and Michael. He said a few words to her and she busted out in tears, and flung herself on Alex’s shoulder, crying her heart out. I freaked, sure that you and Max were both dead, and Michael said not to worry, it’s OK, that was good news, that’s just how Izzie was.
Can you believe the Ice Princess let’s people call her “Izzie?”
Well we ran over to Isabel and Alex, and she’s just sobbing all over his shoulder, and hugging him, and laughing, and of course Alex is standing there with this big old dopey grin, maybe cause you and Max are alive, but probably just cause “Izzie” is just clinging to him like wallpaper. And then pretty soon everybody was hugging everybody, everyone was crying, and we were all going back to the Crashdown to tell your folks, to tell Max’s folks, that you guys were alive and everything would be OK.
And it was just great, Liz, all of us were so happy, all of us were so close, Isabel even started joking about herself, about being the ice princess, and about being an alien, and we were all kind of arm in arm, nobody much even thinking about the Czechoslovakian business, just too damn happy to care.
Later at the café, after the excitement died down a little, Isabel cornered Alex and gave him that same doe-eyed look and asked him not to tell anyone about Czechoslovakia. He still had that same dopey grin on his face. I think if she’d casually asked him to jump off a bridge so he wouldn’t reveal the secret he’d have smiled and said, “Yes Isabel”. I was hoping this was like Czechoslovakian hypnotism or something, but I think that’s really the way he feels. I picture an eternity of unrequited love for our friend”
Thursday Morning 8AM
Roswell Sheriff’s Department
Jim Valenti did his best to remain professional as Lucy Frederickson essentially accused Max Evans of intimidating and possibly brutalizing Liz Evans before her two terror-stricken parents.
Jim knew he didn’t have the answers for just what had happened in that vault, he knew for a fact that both teenagers were lying, had lied in sworn testimony to the coroners inquest jury. And he had to admit to himself that he’d had suspicions about Max Evans intimidating Liz over the shooting incident at the Crashdown four weeks ago.
Maybe he’d lost his objectivity concerning Max Evans when he’d just been so overjoyed to see the two teenagers both alive Monday morning, but Jim didn’t think so. It didn’t add up.
The boy hadn’t planned on being there, at least not until the girls life was threatened. At that point he’d done everything he reasonably could to put himself between the girl and danger including putting his own body between her and flying bullets. Those were not the actions of a brutal kid who would abuse the girl, but rather the actions of someone who cared enough for her to die for her. But more than that, it was the actions of the girl herself before the shotgun blast had killed the security camera. The girl had cradled the wounded kid like her heart was breaking, oblivious to everything going on until Garber had pulled her away from the boy. It seemed unreasonable that she would have so badly misjudged the kid, someone she’d known for years, someone she’d worked with daily as a lab partner.
“Ms. Frederickson, Mr. and Mrs. Parker, I appreciate your concern and I’ll look into it further, but I have to say that we really don’t have any evidence that the Evans boy did anything bad to Liz at all, and considerable reason to believe that without the boy things would have been............,well, much, much worse for your daughter.
I have to admit, I was a little surprised myself by the amount of damage to the bodies of Garber and McMillan, but we have a coroner’s inquest jury looking at the evidence right now. They’ll decide if the force used was unreasonable”
“Sheriff, you know that’s not the issue,” said Lucy Frederickson. “Nobody is going to stand up and say publicly that they believe a murder was committed when two criminals died in the middle of a violent crime. But the psychological impact of seeing all that violence was clearly targeted at Ms. Parker, clearly meant to intimidate her. And it has done just that. She may not remember all that occurred, or she may be covering it up because she is afraid or ashamed of what that monster Evans kid did to her.”
Jim Valenti looked at the tearful mother and anxious father of Liz Parker and wished that Lucy Frederickson would just put a sock in it. He understood the trauma Lucy had experienced that had caused her to become a sexual assault counselor, and appreciated the good work she often did, but there were too many times like this when she just went overboard, passing from objectivity to an alarmist anti-male rhetoric. And while he would indeed look in to her theory, because he was a prudent person, he wondered how she could be so insensitive to the trauma she caused the Parker’s and others like them with her unsupported theories.
“Well if you ask me for my advice,” said Lucy to the Parkers, “unless the Sheriff can make a case and arrest Max Evans, I think you should get a restraining order, forbidding him from coming anywhere near your daughter.”
Jim Valenti frowned. There were, he knew, at least two judges in the county who had faith enough in Lucy that they’d grant such restraining orders, even without anything approaching probable cause. Clearly, the legal justification for a civil restraining order for domestic violence was much less than for a criminal action, and usually that was a good thing. But justified or not, such a restraining order would leave a permanent mark on a kid’s record in a town as small as Roswell, and that seemed completely unfair to the sheriff since these allegations appeared completely unjustified.
The Evans kid had put himself in harm’s way for the girl, taken a bullet for her, then somehow defeated criminals who had used the girl as a hostage, beaten her, and likely would have raped and killed her had Max not been there. A permanent blot on his record seemed like a hell of a way to repay the kid.
And although the Parker’s didn’t know it, Jim Valenti was pretty sure they were playing with fire. Unless Liz Parker herself were somehow convinced of the appropriateness of her parents actions in accusing Max Evans, Jim Valenti was willing to bet that they would lose her, and he was pretty sure that neither of them had a clue that was the case.
“Look,” said Valenti. “I’ll need to talk to them both anyway after the coroner’s inquest jury’s report is available. Let me see what I can find out. Please don’t do anything until then, OK?”
Lucy Frederickson glowered at the sheriff as Jeff Parker slowly nodded his head and said, “OK Sheriff, we’ll hold off for now.”
Roswell Sheriff’s Department
Jim Valenti did his best to remain professional as Lucy Frederickson essentially accused Max Evans of intimidating and possibly brutalizing Liz Evans before her two terror-stricken parents.
Jim knew he didn’t have the answers for just what had happened in that vault, he knew for a fact that both teenagers were lying, had lied in sworn testimony to the coroners inquest jury. And he had to admit to himself that he’d had suspicions about Max Evans intimidating Liz over the shooting incident at the Crashdown four weeks ago.
Maybe he’d lost his objectivity concerning Max Evans when he’d just been so overjoyed to see the two teenagers both alive Monday morning, but Jim didn’t think so. It didn’t add up.
The boy hadn’t planned on being there, at least not until the girls life was threatened. At that point he’d done everything he reasonably could to put himself between the girl and danger including putting his own body between her and flying bullets. Those were not the actions of a brutal kid who would abuse the girl, but rather the actions of someone who cared enough for her to die for her. But more than that, it was the actions of the girl herself before the shotgun blast had killed the security camera. The girl had cradled the wounded kid like her heart was breaking, oblivious to everything going on until Garber had pulled her away from the boy. It seemed unreasonable that she would have so badly misjudged the kid, someone she’d known for years, someone she’d worked with daily as a lab partner.
“Ms. Frederickson, Mr. and Mrs. Parker, I appreciate your concern and I’ll look into it further, but I have to say that we really don’t have any evidence that the Evans boy did anything bad to Liz at all, and considerable reason to believe that without the boy things would have been............,well, much, much worse for your daughter.
I have to admit, I was a little surprised myself by the amount of damage to the bodies of Garber and McMillan, but we have a coroner’s inquest jury looking at the evidence right now. They’ll decide if the force used was unreasonable”
“Sheriff, you know that’s not the issue,” said Lucy Frederickson. “Nobody is going to stand up and say publicly that they believe a murder was committed when two criminals died in the middle of a violent crime. But the psychological impact of seeing all that violence was clearly targeted at Ms. Parker, clearly meant to intimidate her. And it has done just that. She may not remember all that occurred, or she may be covering it up because she is afraid or ashamed of what that monster Evans kid did to her.”
Jim Valenti looked at the tearful mother and anxious father of Liz Parker and wished that Lucy Frederickson would just put a sock in it. He understood the trauma Lucy had experienced that had caused her to become a sexual assault counselor, and appreciated the good work she often did, but there were too many times like this when she just went overboard, passing from objectivity to an alarmist anti-male rhetoric. And while he would indeed look in to her theory, because he was a prudent person, he wondered how she could be so insensitive to the trauma she caused the Parker’s and others like them with her unsupported theories.
“Well if you ask me for my advice,” said Lucy to the Parkers, “unless the Sheriff can make a case and arrest Max Evans, I think you should get a restraining order, forbidding him from coming anywhere near your daughter.”
Jim Valenti frowned. There were, he knew, at least two judges in the county who had faith enough in Lucy that they’d grant such restraining orders, even without anything approaching probable cause. Clearly, the legal justification for a civil restraining order for domestic violence was much less than for a criminal action, and usually that was a good thing. But justified or not, such a restraining order would leave a permanent mark on a kid’s record in a town as small as Roswell, and that seemed completely unfair to the sheriff since these allegations appeared completely unjustified.
The Evans kid had put himself in harm’s way for the girl, taken a bullet for her, then somehow defeated criminals who had used the girl as a hostage, beaten her, and likely would have raped and killed her had Max not been there. A permanent blot on his record seemed like a hell of a way to repay the kid.
And although the Parker’s didn’t know it, Jim Valenti was pretty sure they were playing with fire. Unless Liz Parker herself were somehow convinced of the appropriateness of her parents actions in accusing Max Evans, Jim Valenti was willing to bet that they would lose her, and he was pretty sure that neither of them had a clue that was the case.
“Look,” said Valenti. “I’ll need to talk to them both anyway after the coroner’s inquest jury’s report is available. Let me see what I can find out. Please don’t do anything until then, OK?”
Lucy Frederickson glowered at the sheriff as Jeff Parker slowly nodded his head and said, “OK Sheriff, we’ll hold off for now.”
Thursday Afternoon 1 PM Chaves County Courthouse Witness Room
The coroner’s inquest jury had been brief and to the point. Garber and McMillan had been fugitives from the law, wanted for a number of violent crimes. They had been in the act of committing even more crimes when “person or persons known” had stopped them, brutally and effectively. To the jury, however they had been stopped, it was justifiable. In fact, only the state law requirement that the confidentiality of minors involved in such crimes be respected kept the jury from publicly congratulating the teenagers for somehow performing an unexpected but exceedingly desirable public service. The deaths were deemed justifiable and that ended it, although a few of the ruder jury members opined that it might be worth the long ride up to the state penitentiary to urinate on the graves.
Jim Valenti was having a cup of coffee, talking with the Medical Examiner, Dr. Barson. “So how’d the trip to Albuquerque go?”
The Doc looked up and said, “Surprisingly well, Jim. The young Crime Scene Investigator broke down in tears of relief, then hugged me and said that was the nicest present anyone had ever given her. I tracked down the retired deputy, he took me to his granddaughters parents. I talked to the father of the 14 year old, showed him the pictures first, he talked to his wife. She decided she wanted to see them. They looked at every picture, every x-ray, then just kind of held each other. We went up to the girls grave, burned all the pictures and x-rays right there at the cemetery. They both thanked me. I hope they find some measure of peace now.
The Deputy and I went out drinking last night at Jortega’s, the bar all the police in Albuquerque go to. I stopped after three drinks, because nobody’d take my money. I tried to buy for the retired deputy, and the bartender just said they were on the house. I think the Albuquerque PD had been waiting a long time to see those two in their graves.”
“So did the jury get upset with all the damage done to those bodies, Doc?”
“Not a bit, Sheriff. One guy did ask about Garber’s eye, but that was all. He seemed OK with the answer.”
“Garber’s eye? What about it?”
“Oh, you probably missed it, there was quite a list of injuries. If he hadn’t been killed by the blunt trauma later, he would have been blinded in one eye anyway. Slashed through the lid, the cornea, right down into the globe itself. Bet that got the bastard's attention.”
“You mean the boy hit him with something in the eye and blinded him before he killed them?” said the Sheriff, remembering a discussion that had occurred only this morning with the Parkers and Ms. Frederickson.
“Not unless the kid’s Eddie Izzard, Sheriff.” The Sheriff looked at the doctor quizzically, and he continued. “There was a fragment of fingernail embedded deep in the globe, with fingernail polish on it. It matched a missing piece of fingernail on the long finger of the girl’s right hand. Fingernail polish matched too. That girl is…. what do you think…105, maybe 110 pounds? Garber was 220 or so? She’s a hell of a lot tougher than she looks, Sheriff, is my bet. Probably she was going to lose that battle, but Garber was going to remember his whole life that he’d been in a fight.”
“Apparently he didn’t remember much of anything for very long after that, because he was dead,” said the Sheriff. “and I still don’t understand how the Evans kid did it, Doc.”
“Don’t sell that kid short either, Sheriff,” said a large deputy who was getting coffee and a donut.
“Remember when Bob and I pulled those two kids away as they came out the door of the vault, shielding them with our bodies and vests, just like they teach in hostage rescue? Well, I was all-state in wrestling in high school, and wrestled some professionally during junior college, just locally to make some money. I grabbed that kid and flattened myself over him like a blanket. I weigh 240, probably 260 in Kevlar helmet, ceramic vest and SWAT gear. That kid weighs …what 160 you think? Maybe 170, soaking wet? He was pinned beneath me still as you please when that little girl kind of squeaked when Bob bumped her on a broken rib. That Evans kid shucked me off like I wasn’t even there with one arm and pulled Bob off the girl with the other. And he didn’t hurt either of us, I mean he wasn’t vicious or anything, he just wasn’t going to let anything come between him and seeing that the girl was OK.
I know it sounds funny, Sheriff, I mean with the rap sheets that those two perps had and all that, but I’d almost believe that these two kids are tougher than the perps were. Maybe not physically tougher, but mentally tougher, you know? I know that’s silly, I mean why would anyone think two kids could take out two big guys like that? But somehow you look at those two kids and you just feel the toughness in them.”
Jim Valenti’s mind suddenly took him back to Monday morning as he remembered two teenage couples deployed outside the bank, just kids really, who should have been getting ready for school. But they weren’t, they were waiting for an opportunity to take on Garber and McMillan. Valenti knew that now down deep in his core. They hadn’t been there as observers, they’d deployed there, looking for a fight. Those two couples also had that toughness, that determination. Had he not worked with the Evans girl, the “Christmas Nazi,” on the Toys for Tots campaign, she might almost have frightened him that day with her intensity.
And maybe that was it. Maybe that was what made these kids so damn tough. When they believed in something, when they cared for someone, they held nothing back. Jim Valenti wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that, wasn’t sure if it scared him or not, but the truth of it was now apparent.
The coroner’s inquest jury had been brief and to the point. Garber and McMillan had been fugitives from the law, wanted for a number of violent crimes. They had been in the act of committing even more crimes when “person or persons known” had stopped them, brutally and effectively. To the jury, however they had been stopped, it was justifiable. In fact, only the state law requirement that the confidentiality of minors involved in such crimes be respected kept the jury from publicly congratulating the teenagers for somehow performing an unexpected but exceedingly desirable public service. The deaths were deemed justifiable and that ended it, although a few of the ruder jury members opined that it might be worth the long ride up to the state penitentiary to urinate on the graves.
Jim Valenti was having a cup of coffee, talking with the Medical Examiner, Dr. Barson. “So how’d the trip to Albuquerque go?”
The Doc looked up and said, “Surprisingly well, Jim. The young Crime Scene Investigator broke down in tears of relief, then hugged me and said that was the nicest present anyone had ever given her. I tracked down the retired deputy, he took me to his granddaughters parents. I talked to the father of the 14 year old, showed him the pictures first, he talked to his wife. She decided she wanted to see them. They looked at every picture, every x-ray, then just kind of held each other. We went up to the girls grave, burned all the pictures and x-rays right there at the cemetery. They both thanked me. I hope they find some measure of peace now.
The Deputy and I went out drinking last night at Jortega’s, the bar all the police in Albuquerque go to. I stopped after three drinks, because nobody’d take my money. I tried to buy for the retired deputy, and the bartender just said they were on the house. I think the Albuquerque PD had been waiting a long time to see those two in their graves.”
“So did the jury get upset with all the damage done to those bodies, Doc?”
“Not a bit, Sheriff. One guy did ask about Garber’s eye, but that was all. He seemed OK with the answer.”
“Garber’s eye? What about it?”
“Oh, you probably missed it, there was quite a list of injuries. If he hadn’t been killed by the blunt trauma later, he would have been blinded in one eye anyway. Slashed through the lid, the cornea, right down into the globe itself. Bet that got the bastard's attention.”
“You mean the boy hit him with something in the eye and blinded him before he killed them?” said the Sheriff, remembering a discussion that had occurred only this morning with the Parkers and Ms. Frederickson.
“Not unless the kid’s Eddie Izzard, Sheriff.” The Sheriff looked at the doctor quizzically, and he continued. “There was a fragment of fingernail embedded deep in the globe, with fingernail polish on it. It matched a missing piece of fingernail on the long finger of the girl’s right hand. Fingernail polish matched too. That girl is…. what do you think…105, maybe 110 pounds? Garber was 220 or so? She’s a hell of a lot tougher than she looks, Sheriff, is my bet. Probably she was going to lose that battle, but Garber was going to remember his whole life that he’d been in a fight.”
“Apparently he didn’t remember much of anything for very long after that, because he was dead,” said the Sheriff. “and I still don’t understand how the Evans kid did it, Doc.”
“Don’t sell that kid short either, Sheriff,” said a large deputy who was getting coffee and a donut.
“Remember when Bob and I pulled those two kids away as they came out the door of the vault, shielding them with our bodies and vests, just like they teach in hostage rescue? Well, I was all-state in wrestling in high school, and wrestled some professionally during junior college, just locally to make some money. I grabbed that kid and flattened myself over him like a blanket. I weigh 240, probably 260 in Kevlar helmet, ceramic vest and SWAT gear. That kid weighs …what 160 you think? Maybe 170, soaking wet? He was pinned beneath me still as you please when that little girl kind of squeaked when Bob bumped her on a broken rib. That Evans kid shucked me off like I wasn’t even there with one arm and pulled Bob off the girl with the other. And he didn’t hurt either of us, I mean he wasn’t vicious or anything, he just wasn’t going to let anything come between him and seeing that the girl was OK.
I know it sounds funny, Sheriff, I mean with the rap sheets that those two perps had and all that, but I’d almost believe that these two kids are tougher than the perps were. Maybe not physically tougher, but mentally tougher, you know? I know that’s silly, I mean why would anyone think two kids could take out two big guys like that? But somehow you look at those two kids and you just feel the toughness in them.”
Jim Valenti’s mind suddenly took him back to Monday morning as he remembered two teenage couples deployed outside the bank, just kids really, who should have been getting ready for school. But they weren’t, they were waiting for an opportunity to take on Garber and McMillan. Valenti knew that now down deep in his core. They hadn’t been there as observers, they’d deployed there, looking for a fight. Those two couples also had that toughness, that determination. Had he not worked with the Evans girl, the “Christmas Nazi,” on the Toys for Tots campaign, she might almost have frightened him that day with her intensity.
And maybe that was it. Maybe that was what made these kids so damn tough. When they believed in something, when they cared for someone, they held nothing back. Jim Valenti wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that, wasn’t sure if it scared him or not, but the truth of it was now apparent.
Friday morning 8AM Roswell Sheriff’s Office
Jim Valenti watched as the deputy ushered Elizabeth Parker into his office and had her sit in one of the two chairs facing him, then turned back to return to his duties, closing the door behind him. It was this very room, maybe even in that very chair, where he’d questioned the teenager four weeks ago after the Crashdown shooting. She had been frightened, tearful, and the Sheriff was reasonably sure, dishonest in her answers at that time. She’d been a clumsy liar, obviously not very experienced at it, and she had been terrified at the time. Back then he’d thought her fear was about what Max Evans might do to her. He doubted that now, but new allegations had been raised, and the Sheriff was a prudent and cautious man. He would not force her to be in a room with Max Evans without addressing those allegations. He’d promised her father.
“What’s this all about, Sheriff? I thought Max would be here too?”
“He will be Miss Parker. We just need to discuss a few things first.”
Jim Valenti marveled at the changes in Liz Parker between the two visits. In the first she’d seemed like a child being caught stealing cookies. She hadn’t made eye contact, had repeated a rote story, an improbable one with inherent contradictions, and she had been frightened, terribly frightened.
Today she was wary, but she not only made eye contact but seemed to be analyzing his every action, his every movement, reading his eyes like a linebacker reads the eyes of the quarterback, trying to anticipate what was going on, like she was trying to control the interview rather than avoid it. She’d certainly been through a lot recently, and it had clearly changed her, matured her. And yes, Jim agreed, this slight young girl was a lot tougher than she looked, a lot tougher than her folks gave her credit for.
Liz Parker continued to study the Sheriff and watched as he leaned forward over his desk to speak.
“The reason I wanted to talk to you first, Miss Parker, is because some questions have been raised about Max Evans’ conduct toward you in the vault, some fears that he might have been ….well…, sexually aggressive toward you.”
Jim Valenti wasn’t sure what kind of reaction his statement would draw from the girl as he watched her intently but was clearly not expecting the one he got as Liz Parker exploded into giggling.
It took thirty seconds or so for Liz Parker to recover enough to catch her breath. She smiled as she reached across the desk to pat Jim Valenti’s hand. Tears of laughter trickled down her cheeks.
“I’m so sorry, Sheriff, but that was just too funny. It’s ironic really. I spent most of the last four weeks being upset with Max and depressed because he was too ….shy, too introverted to want to have a closer relationship with me, and now someone’s claiming he was hitting on me in the vault? I just couldn’t help myself.”
“So you aren’t depressed or upset with him now?”
She looked at him intently for a moment, then seemed to make up her mind.
As she relaxed and smiled, she leaned back in her chair and looked up at him. “I don’t know that any of that is the public’s business, Sheriff. But since you asked, we had an opportunity to talk about a few issues. I care a lot for Max, and he cares a lot about me. We still have a few more issues to settle, but I think it’ll work out eventually.”
Jim Valenti looked at the girl, again amazed at the changes four weeks could bring. He felt that she was telling him the truth this time, at least as much of the truth as she wanted him to know. And she clearly wasn’t intimidated by Max Evans, or Jim Valenti either he admitted to himself.
“So Miss Parker, for the record, you are denying that Max Evans tried to force you into doing anything you didn’t want to do while you were in the vault?”
Liz suddenly remembered the argument in the vault, Max’s insistence that he would heal her ribs and face, her insistence that she needed to keep the injuries inflicted upon her by Garber until they could demonstrate for the record that Max had cause to kill the two bank robbers. She had told him then that she was not a China doll, that she could take the pain, that she was not going to allow him to heal her, and that she damn well would keep her injuries until she was sure that he wasn’t going to be charged with anything for stopping those two. 'What a strange first argument to have with your boyfriend,' she thought. Her face had a Mona Lisa smile as she looked up at the sheriff innocently and said, “No Sheriff, Max didn’t try to force me to do anything.”
“And you are continuing with the story that Max killed them by hitting them with the fire extinguisher?”
Jim Valenti watched the wariness return to the eyes of Liz Parker, but he could read no fear there. She seemed to be making a choice and when she finally spoke she said, “I stand by my previous statement, Sheriff.”
Then her eyes seemed to gaze past him into the distance, or into some memory. “I’m not sure how Max found the strength to attack those two. I remember that I had been holding his head in my lap, looking down into his face, convinced he was dying. He hadn’t been conscious from the time of the injury to when….that man pulled me away from him. I fought to get back to him, but the man was too strong. And then somehow Max woke up. I don’t know where he found the strength, but he held nothing back.
When it was over he was unconscious again. I thought I’d lost him….” Jim Valenti saw more tears streak down the girl’s cheeks, smearing the blusher on her bruise.
Then she looked back at him, looking him straight in the eyes. “When he finally woke up he was still in pain, still had a splitting headache. And the first thing he did was pull up a piece of the wall to wall carpet to cover their bodies, just like you found them, so I wouldn’t have to look at them. Then he took a waste basket into the small vault, so I could use it as a bathroom. We shared the food and water he’d had in his pack for the hike with his dad…” Liz smiled as she remembered Max pulling out the two sandwiches. He’d given her his dad’s corned beef, taking the “PBJJ” for himself. He said that sandwich was an acquired taste she probably hadn’t acquired yet, and that he’d better eat that one. She’d begged for a taste, and he’d reluctantly allowed it, then gave her his water bottle to drink as well as her own as her mouth had caught fire. Peanut butter, jelly, and jalapeno slices, what a combination!
Life with Max was going to be a little strange she thought. But if she was offered another weekend locked in a vault with Max Evans with nothing to eat but PBJJ’s, she knew she’d take it. He was hers now.
“Really Sheriff, once I was sure Max was going to live, I don’t think I ever felt safer in my life than I did when I was locked in that vault next to Max.”
Jim Valenti was looking into the smiling face of Liz Parker. ‘Well she sure as hell isn’t afraid of the kid,’ he thought. And even if the boy weren’t shy, he somehow didn’t think that Max would have pushed Liz Parker to do anything she wasn’t willing to do. In fact, Jim Valenti somehow found himself wondering at what point Liz Parker would have been unwilling. Well past the point that the girls parents expected, he was sure. She seemed to be the one who had been pushing the relationship. 'It was probably just as well that she’d had a few broken ribs in there, or she might have traumatized that Evans boy for life,' he thought jokingly.
And then he remembered her fit of giggling at the start of the interview. Jim Valenti had broken a rib playing high school football many years ago and he still remembered the pain. It had hurt like hell for 5 weeks every time he took a deep breath. The other guys on the football team had teased him, told him jokes, made him laugh knowing that he had the rib fractures. He’d had to clutch his rib to keep the ends from grating together. This young girl had four rib fractures when she’d been x-rayed only five days ago. She’d laughed until she cried when he’d suggested Max had been sexually aggressive toward her, without once worrying about those fractures. Perhaps she was tougher than she looked, but he didn’t think she was that tough. Jim Valenti suddenly found himself wondering what an x-ray of the young girl’s ribs would look like today.
Jim Valenti watched as the deputy ushered Elizabeth Parker into his office and had her sit in one of the two chairs facing him, then turned back to return to his duties, closing the door behind him. It was this very room, maybe even in that very chair, where he’d questioned the teenager four weeks ago after the Crashdown shooting. She had been frightened, tearful, and the Sheriff was reasonably sure, dishonest in her answers at that time. She’d been a clumsy liar, obviously not very experienced at it, and she had been terrified at the time. Back then he’d thought her fear was about what Max Evans might do to her. He doubted that now, but new allegations had been raised, and the Sheriff was a prudent and cautious man. He would not force her to be in a room with Max Evans without addressing those allegations. He’d promised her father.
“What’s this all about, Sheriff? I thought Max would be here too?”
“He will be Miss Parker. We just need to discuss a few things first.”
Jim Valenti marveled at the changes in Liz Parker between the two visits. In the first she’d seemed like a child being caught stealing cookies. She hadn’t made eye contact, had repeated a rote story, an improbable one with inherent contradictions, and she had been frightened, terribly frightened.
Today she was wary, but she not only made eye contact but seemed to be analyzing his every action, his every movement, reading his eyes like a linebacker reads the eyes of the quarterback, trying to anticipate what was going on, like she was trying to control the interview rather than avoid it. She’d certainly been through a lot recently, and it had clearly changed her, matured her. And yes, Jim agreed, this slight young girl was a lot tougher than she looked, a lot tougher than her folks gave her credit for.
Liz Parker continued to study the Sheriff and watched as he leaned forward over his desk to speak.
“The reason I wanted to talk to you first, Miss Parker, is because some questions have been raised about Max Evans’ conduct toward you in the vault, some fears that he might have been ….well…, sexually aggressive toward you.”
Jim Valenti wasn’t sure what kind of reaction his statement would draw from the girl as he watched her intently but was clearly not expecting the one he got as Liz Parker exploded into giggling.
It took thirty seconds or so for Liz Parker to recover enough to catch her breath. She smiled as she reached across the desk to pat Jim Valenti’s hand. Tears of laughter trickled down her cheeks.
“I’m so sorry, Sheriff, but that was just too funny. It’s ironic really. I spent most of the last four weeks being upset with Max and depressed because he was too ….shy, too introverted to want to have a closer relationship with me, and now someone’s claiming he was hitting on me in the vault? I just couldn’t help myself.”
“So you aren’t depressed or upset with him now?”
She looked at him intently for a moment, then seemed to make up her mind.
As she relaxed and smiled, she leaned back in her chair and looked up at him. “I don’t know that any of that is the public’s business, Sheriff. But since you asked, we had an opportunity to talk about a few issues. I care a lot for Max, and he cares a lot about me. We still have a few more issues to settle, but I think it’ll work out eventually.”
Jim Valenti looked at the girl, again amazed at the changes four weeks could bring. He felt that she was telling him the truth this time, at least as much of the truth as she wanted him to know. And she clearly wasn’t intimidated by Max Evans, or Jim Valenti either he admitted to himself.
“So Miss Parker, for the record, you are denying that Max Evans tried to force you into doing anything you didn’t want to do while you were in the vault?”
Liz suddenly remembered the argument in the vault, Max’s insistence that he would heal her ribs and face, her insistence that she needed to keep the injuries inflicted upon her by Garber until they could demonstrate for the record that Max had cause to kill the two bank robbers. She had told him then that she was not a China doll, that she could take the pain, that she was not going to allow him to heal her, and that she damn well would keep her injuries until she was sure that he wasn’t going to be charged with anything for stopping those two. 'What a strange first argument to have with your boyfriend,' she thought. Her face had a Mona Lisa smile as she looked up at the sheriff innocently and said, “No Sheriff, Max didn’t try to force me to do anything.”
“And you are continuing with the story that Max killed them by hitting them with the fire extinguisher?”
Jim Valenti watched the wariness return to the eyes of Liz Parker, but he could read no fear there. She seemed to be making a choice and when she finally spoke she said, “I stand by my previous statement, Sheriff.”
Then her eyes seemed to gaze past him into the distance, or into some memory. “I’m not sure how Max found the strength to attack those two. I remember that I had been holding his head in my lap, looking down into his face, convinced he was dying. He hadn’t been conscious from the time of the injury to when….that man pulled me away from him. I fought to get back to him, but the man was too strong. And then somehow Max woke up. I don’t know where he found the strength, but he held nothing back.
When it was over he was unconscious again. I thought I’d lost him….” Jim Valenti saw more tears streak down the girl’s cheeks, smearing the blusher on her bruise.
Then she looked back at him, looking him straight in the eyes. “When he finally woke up he was still in pain, still had a splitting headache. And the first thing he did was pull up a piece of the wall to wall carpet to cover their bodies, just like you found them, so I wouldn’t have to look at them. Then he took a waste basket into the small vault, so I could use it as a bathroom. We shared the food and water he’d had in his pack for the hike with his dad…” Liz smiled as she remembered Max pulling out the two sandwiches. He’d given her his dad’s corned beef, taking the “PBJJ” for himself. He said that sandwich was an acquired taste she probably hadn’t acquired yet, and that he’d better eat that one. She’d begged for a taste, and he’d reluctantly allowed it, then gave her his water bottle to drink as well as her own as her mouth had caught fire. Peanut butter, jelly, and jalapeno slices, what a combination!
Life with Max was going to be a little strange she thought. But if she was offered another weekend locked in a vault with Max Evans with nothing to eat but PBJJ’s, she knew she’d take it. He was hers now.
“Really Sheriff, once I was sure Max was going to live, I don’t think I ever felt safer in my life than I did when I was locked in that vault next to Max.”
Jim Valenti was looking into the smiling face of Liz Parker. ‘Well she sure as hell isn’t afraid of the kid,’ he thought. And even if the boy weren’t shy, he somehow didn’t think that Max would have pushed Liz Parker to do anything she wasn’t willing to do. In fact, Jim Valenti somehow found himself wondering at what point Liz Parker would have been unwilling. Well past the point that the girls parents expected, he was sure. She seemed to be the one who had been pushing the relationship. 'It was probably just as well that she’d had a few broken ribs in there, or she might have traumatized that Evans boy for life,' he thought jokingly.
And then he remembered her fit of giggling at the start of the interview. Jim Valenti had broken a rib playing high school football many years ago and he still remembered the pain. It had hurt like hell for 5 weeks every time he took a deep breath. The other guys on the football team had teased him, told him jokes, made him laugh knowing that he had the rib fractures. He’d had to clutch his rib to keep the ends from grating together. This young girl had four rib fractures when she’d been x-rayed only five days ago. She’d laughed until she cried when he’d suggested Max had been sexually aggressive toward her, without once worrying about those fractures. Perhaps she was tougher than she looked, but he didn’t think she was that tough. Jim Valenti suddenly found himself wondering what an x-ray of the young girl’s ribs would look like today.
Friday Morning 0830 AM Roswell Sheriff’s Office.
Liz Parker had been waiting in his office for about 10 minutes reading a magazine when Jim Valenti noticed her turn and look toward the door, a smile coming to her face.
A minute later there was a knock on the door, and the deputy brought Max Evans in to the room. As he motioned for Max to take the empty seat, Valenti watched the two teenagers. Both were struggling to keep their eyes off the other, and both were losing the struggle.
The girl in particular showed no signs of anxiety sitting next to Max Evans, and the Sheriff rather had the feeling that had he not been there, she’d probably be in the boy's lap already.
He’d have to speak to Jeff Parker about his threat to get an injunction against the boy, not so much because of what it’d do to the reputation of Max Evans, but because he wasn’t sure what kind of precipitous action it would lead Liz Parker to do.
Damn, he thought, that Lucy Frederickson was going to cause a major crisis in the Parker family if she didn’t back off. Strangely enough, he didn’t worry too much about Liz Parker and Max Evans engaging in some teenage angst suicide pact, although he knew that did happen. The deputy was right, these too kids were tougher than they looked. Much tougher.
“I asked you to come here to tell you the results of the coroner’s inquest jury, and then to talk to you both a little bit,” said Sheriff Valenti. “First, the jury decided that the deaths were justifiable homicides by person or persons known. What that means is that they accept the testimony that Max killed both of the men, but believe that he was justified under statute in that he was protecting you both from criminal activity that was being done, and would have been done, had he not acted. That’s good news for both of you. Legally, this case is over, it ends right here.”
Both teenagers looked at each other and Jim saw each put out a hand, briefly squeeze the hand of the other, and both appeared relieved. It was over, the long horrible experience was over, and they could put it behind them.
“What I want to talk to you about right now is more personal than professional. First of all, I want you to understand that I know the whole ‘hit them over the head with a fire extinguisher’ story is a lie.”
Both teenagers instantly looked up at Jim Valenti, their eyes wide, as he pulled x-rays and a list of injuries from behind his desk. He strolled to the window and put the x-rays up, backlighting them with the rays of the morning sun.
“These guys weren’t beaten to death with a fire extinguisher, there was no bruising, no bleeding from the fire extinguisher impact marks. They were already dead. These guys were already shattered. Each had over a dozen major bone fractures, both had fractured kidneys, one a fractured liver. It was almost like a bomb went off in that vault, except of course that neither of you two were hurt by it. The injuries each of you have were documented on the security camera, while these two were very much alive. So something, someone, apparently was very upset with these two. Something did enormous and near instantaneous damage to both of these guys, while bypassing the two of you.”
Liz Parker spoke first, “Shouldn’t you be reading us our rights, Sheriff, asking us if we want a lawyer?”
Jim Valenti noticed how Max Evans had taken a step diagonally, both putting himself in front of Liz Parker and partially shielding her body with his. Once again, he thought, protecting her is the boy’s priority.
Jim Valenti slowly, carefully, put his hands on the table in front of him, making sure they were clearly visible to both of the teenagers.
“I think you should relax Miss Parker,…you too, Mr. Evans. This is personal, not official. I reran that damn security tape a dozen times Saturday night and Sunday, knowing for sure that Monday morning I was going to have to tell your parents that you’d both been killed, ….raped and killed in your case Miss Parker. And I had no idea in the world how I was going to be able to tell them that, how I was going to be able to explain to them the failures of the justice system that had allowed that to happen.
Four weeks ago I told you, Mr. Evans, that you were smart but I was smart too. Well I’m not smart enough to understand how you did it. Maybe someday one of you will trust me enough to tell me the truth. But I can live with not knowing the truth a lot better than I could have lived with making that speech to your folks, trying to tell them why you two had to die because the justice system had failed to protect you. So I decided to be honest with both of you today because maybe by being honest I’ll earn a little bit of your trust, and someday you’ll understand that I’m not your enemy.
Max, I know sometimes it isn’t easy to live with the fact that you killed someone but the coroner’s jury was right, what you did was justified, however you may have done it. If I’d have been in that vault, I’d have taken them out with whatever weapon I had. Mercy would have been wasted on those two bastards. I hope you aren’t losing any sleep over guilt about those deaths. If you are come and talk to me.
If you ever decide to tell me what really happened, come talk to me too. I’m puzzled as hell right now.
That’s really all I have to say to you. Get out of here. Go home. Relax. Go be teenagers for awhile. Live your lives. You’ve earned it.”
As both teenagers got to the door Max Evans suddenly stopped. He turned around and went back to the sheriff’s desk, and held out his hand. “I think I may have misjudged you, Sheriff. I’m sorry for that.”
“We all make mistakes, Max. I certainly did when it came to you. You are entitled to make your share too. After all, you are only human…,” and then a gentle smile came over his face and he continued,”…or close enough, anyway,” as he shook the teenager’s hand.
Liz Parker reached through the connection to feel Max’s emotions at the Sheriff’s comment. There was some anxiety there, but humor as well. He liked the Sheriff, she decided. He still didn’t trust him, but he did like him.
Ten minutes later Sheriff Valenti looked up in surprise as Liz Parker came back into his office and stood before his desk.
“He doesn’t trust people easily, Sheriff. He’s been in love with me since third grade, but he’s only really trusted me the last few weeks. He’s getting better at it all the time, and he was impressed by you today. He’s a good person, Sheriff, probably the best person I’ve ever known. I just wanted you to know that.”
“And how about you, Miss Parker? Do you trust me? Trust me enough to tell me what really happened?”
“Actually Sheriff, I think I do, but it really isn’t my secret to tell. I did want to thank you though for talking to him about killing those two. If he could have stopped them without killing them, I think he would have, even after all they did. He’s kind and gentle, Sheriff. He isn’t some kind of a monster who enjoys hurting people.”
“I never thought he was a monster, Miss Parker,” said Jim Valenti, wondering suddenly if that were really true. He certainly didn’t think the kid was a monster today. Four weeks ago he hadn’t been so sure.
“There were two monsters in that vault, Liz. Their unclaimed ashes are now buried in the cemetery at the state prison. And if Max needs someone to tell him that’s how it should be, you send him back to me.
Now scoot. Oh, and…..glad your ribs seem to be better, you clearly heal faster than I did when mine was broken,” the Sheriff said with a grin.
Liz Parker grinned back at the Sheriff, shaking her head slowly as she did so.
“Good-bye, Sheriff.”
Then she turned and left the office.
Liz Parker had been waiting in his office for about 10 minutes reading a magazine when Jim Valenti noticed her turn and look toward the door, a smile coming to her face.
A minute later there was a knock on the door, and the deputy brought Max Evans in to the room. As he motioned for Max to take the empty seat, Valenti watched the two teenagers. Both were struggling to keep their eyes off the other, and both were losing the struggle.
The girl in particular showed no signs of anxiety sitting next to Max Evans, and the Sheriff rather had the feeling that had he not been there, she’d probably be in the boy's lap already.
He’d have to speak to Jeff Parker about his threat to get an injunction against the boy, not so much because of what it’d do to the reputation of Max Evans, but because he wasn’t sure what kind of precipitous action it would lead Liz Parker to do.
Damn, he thought, that Lucy Frederickson was going to cause a major crisis in the Parker family if she didn’t back off. Strangely enough, he didn’t worry too much about Liz Parker and Max Evans engaging in some teenage angst suicide pact, although he knew that did happen. The deputy was right, these too kids were tougher than they looked. Much tougher.
“I asked you to come here to tell you the results of the coroner’s inquest jury, and then to talk to you both a little bit,” said Sheriff Valenti. “First, the jury decided that the deaths were justifiable homicides by person or persons known. What that means is that they accept the testimony that Max killed both of the men, but believe that he was justified under statute in that he was protecting you both from criminal activity that was being done, and would have been done, had he not acted. That’s good news for both of you. Legally, this case is over, it ends right here.”
Both teenagers looked at each other and Jim saw each put out a hand, briefly squeeze the hand of the other, and both appeared relieved. It was over, the long horrible experience was over, and they could put it behind them.
“What I want to talk to you about right now is more personal than professional. First of all, I want you to understand that I know the whole ‘hit them over the head with a fire extinguisher’ story is a lie.”
Both teenagers instantly looked up at Jim Valenti, their eyes wide, as he pulled x-rays and a list of injuries from behind his desk. He strolled to the window and put the x-rays up, backlighting them with the rays of the morning sun.
“These guys weren’t beaten to death with a fire extinguisher, there was no bruising, no bleeding from the fire extinguisher impact marks. They were already dead. These guys were already shattered. Each had over a dozen major bone fractures, both had fractured kidneys, one a fractured liver. It was almost like a bomb went off in that vault, except of course that neither of you two were hurt by it. The injuries each of you have were documented on the security camera, while these two were very much alive. So something, someone, apparently was very upset with these two. Something did enormous and near instantaneous damage to both of these guys, while bypassing the two of you.”
Liz Parker spoke first, “Shouldn’t you be reading us our rights, Sheriff, asking us if we want a lawyer?”
Jim Valenti noticed how Max Evans had taken a step diagonally, both putting himself in front of Liz Parker and partially shielding her body with his. Once again, he thought, protecting her is the boy’s priority.
Jim Valenti slowly, carefully, put his hands on the table in front of him, making sure they were clearly visible to both of the teenagers.
“I think you should relax Miss Parker,…you too, Mr. Evans. This is personal, not official. I reran that damn security tape a dozen times Saturday night and Sunday, knowing for sure that Monday morning I was going to have to tell your parents that you’d both been killed, ….raped and killed in your case Miss Parker. And I had no idea in the world how I was going to be able to tell them that, how I was going to be able to explain to them the failures of the justice system that had allowed that to happen.
Four weeks ago I told you, Mr. Evans, that you were smart but I was smart too. Well I’m not smart enough to understand how you did it. Maybe someday one of you will trust me enough to tell me the truth. But I can live with not knowing the truth a lot better than I could have lived with making that speech to your folks, trying to tell them why you two had to die because the justice system had failed to protect you. So I decided to be honest with both of you today because maybe by being honest I’ll earn a little bit of your trust, and someday you’ll understand that I’m not your enemy.
Max, I know sometimes it isn’t easy to live with the fact that you killed someone but the coroner’s jury was right, what you did was justified, however you may have done it. If I’d have been in that vault, I’d have taken them out with whatever weapon I had. Mercy would have been wasted on those two bastards. I hope you aren’t losing any sleep over guilt about those deaths. If you are come and talk to me.
If you ever decide to tell me what really happened, come talk to me too. I’m puzzled as hell right now.
That’s really all I have to say to you. Get out of here. Go home. Relax. Go be teenagers for awhile. Live your lives. You’ve earned it.”
As both teenagers got to the door Max Evans suddenly stopped. He turned around and went back to the sheriff’s desk, and held out his hand. “I think I may have misjudged you, Sheriff. I’m sorry for that.”
“We all make mistakes, Max. I certainly did when it came to you. You are entitled to make your share too. After all, you are only human…,” and then a gentle smile came over his face and he continued,”…or close enough, anyway,” as he shook the teenager’s hand.
Liz Parker reached through the connection to feel Max’s emotions at the Sheriff’s comment. There was some anxiety there, but humor as well. He liked the Sheriff, she decided. He still didn’t trust him, but he did like him.
Ten minutes later Sheriff Valenti looked up in surprise as Liz Parker came back into his office and stood before his desk.
“He doesn’t trust people easily, Sheriff. He’s been in love with me since third grade, but he’s only really trusted me the last few weeks. He’s getting better at it all the time, and he was impressed by you today. He’s a good person, Sheriff, probably the best person I’ve ever known. I just wanted you to know that.”
“And how about you, Miss Parker? Do you trust me? Trust me enough to tell me what really happened?”
“Actually Sheriff, I think I do, but it really isn’t my secret to tell. I did want to thank you though for talking to him about killing those two. If he could have stopped them without killing them, I think he would have, even after all they did. He’s kind and gentle, Sheriff. He isn’t some kind of a monster who enjoys hurting people.”
“I never thought he was a monster, Miss Parker,” said Jim Valenti, wondering suddenly if that were really true. He certainly didn’t think the kid was a monster today. Four weeks ago he hadn’t been so sure.
“There were two monsters in that vault, Liz. Their unclaimed ashes are now buried in the cemetery at the state prison. And if Max needs someone to tell him that’s how it should be, you send him back to me.
Now scoot. Oh, and…..glad your ribs seem to be better, you clearly heal faster than I did when mine was broken,” the Sheriff said with a grin.
Liz Parker grinned back at the Sheriff, shaking her head slowly as she did so.
“Good-bye, Sheriff.”
Then she turned and left the office.
Friday Morning 10:00 Roswell Sheriff’s Office
“If that’s why you asked me to come here, Sheriff, you wasted your time. I am going to get a restraining order on that Evans kid,” said Jeff Parker. “Look, Ms. Frederickson has talked to Nancy and me at some length. She’s convinced that the Evans kid is a threat to my daughter and what she says makes sense.”
“Jeff, believe me, you’ll be making the biggest mistake of your life if you do this.”
“How can you say that, Jim? You had the kid in handcuffs only 5 weeks ago at the Crash Festival. You pulled him in for questioning, Lizzie too, because you didn’t trust him. And she hasn’t really been normal since he came up to her after that gunfire incident.”
“So I was WRONG, Jeff. I’m not ashamed to admit it. That boy would never hurt your daughter.”
“But that’s just it, Jim. She’s MY daughter, not yours. You may think he’s a fine kid, but how could I trust someone who’d beat two guys to death, keep beating on them even after they were dead. Not with my daughter I won’t.”
You know, Jeff, I promised myself last Saturday that I’d do anything to keep you from seeing the security tape from inside that vault, but maybe I was wrong then too. The coroner’s jury is done with it, maybe you should see it.”
15 minutes later Jeff Parker was shaking in anger and sobbing, watching Liz Parker struggle with Garber on the small video screen. As McMillan shot out the camera and the video ended, Valenti turned the lights back up in the room.
“Your daughter put up a good fight, a couple seconds after the video ended she apparently got a hand free and shoved a fingernail into that guy’s eye. Of course that probably just made him madder. If Max hadn’t stopped them, you know just as well as I do what would have happened to Liz, Jeff. Now look me in the face and tell me Max Evans used excessive force on those two.”
“Look Jim, I never said that those two were good guys, I never said that it was wrong for the kid to kill them. It’s just….well you need to listen to Ms. Frederickson, hear what she has to say. She’s sure that Evans kid abused Lizzie, Jim, she thinks he probably raped her.”
“That’s absolutely CRAZY, Jeff. Have you even asked Liz what happened, how she feels about Max?”
“She has already admitted that she doesn’t remember parts of her time in there Jim, Ms. Frederickson says she’s repressing the memories because they are too painful. No Jim, I can’t take the chance. Even if you like the boy, she’s my only child Jim, and I just can’t take the chance.”
“This isn’t about who I like or dislike, Jeff. This is about your daughter. SHE likes the Evans boy, she likes him a whole lot more than I think you realize. And Liz HAS been through a lot. You do something that hurts this kid, I’m telling you, she’ll never forgive you, Jeff.
I’m not talking about the usual parent-teenager troubles here either, I’m talking about crossing a line you may never be able to put right with your daughter.”
Jeff Parker looked at the Sheriff and shook his head. “You’re wrong, Sheriff. They’re schoolmates, sure, but they’ve never even dated. OK, maybe she does feel like he’s Sir Galahad right now, maybe she does feel grateful, even have a crush on him. But I’m not going to put my daughter at risk because she’s infatuated with someone when she can’t even remember what he did to her when they were together.”
Jim Valenti shook his head “Jeff, you are making a huge mistake. Didn’t you see the way she cradled that kid’s busted head in her lap? She was fighting as hard to get back to Max as she was to get away from Garber. I’m telling you, you are making a terrible mistake going after that kid.”
Jeff Parker had noticed his daughter, holding the young man and looking like her world had ended. But that was before he’d killed the two men, before the time Ms Frederickson talked about, before he would have had a chance to hurt Liz. And maybe she only looked that way, felt that way, because if he died that left her all alone with the two criminals. No, Jeff decided, he couldn’t take the chance.
But then he remembered the way Garber had treated his daughter. Could anything Max had done be worse than that, worse than what had clearly been in store for Liz at the hands of those two? Valenti had told him about the 14 year old, “shared” by the two for days, then killed. And about the 17 year old, driven insane by what one of them had done to her. His daughter had come out alive and sane, despite nightmares, memory lapses, and a few broken bones. Maybe he did owe the kid something at least.
“I’ll tell you what, Sheriff. I’ll call up Philip Evans and let him know about our concerns. If he can guarantee the boy will stay away from Lizzie, we may not have to get the court involved. But he’s got to stay away from her, and I’m having the school move her out of any classes they have together. And if the boy breaks that agreement, even once, we go straight to the court for an injunction. That’s the most I’m willing to compromise on this, I’ve got to protect my daughter.”
“If that’s why you asked me to come here, Sheriff, you wasted your time. I am going to get a restraining order on that Evans kid,” said Jeff Parker. “Look, Ms. Frederickson has talked to Nancy and me at some length. She’s convinced that the Evans kid is a threat to my daughter and what she says makes sense.”
“Jeff, believe me, you’ll be making the biggest mistake of your life if you do this.”
“How can you say that, Jim? You had the kid in handcuffs only 5 weeks ago at the Crash Festival. You pulled him in for questioning, Lizzie too, because you didn’t trust him. And she hasn’t really been normal since he came up to her after that gunfire incident.”
“So I was WRONG, Jeff. I’m not ashamed to admit it. That boy would never hurt your daughter.”
“But that’s just it, Jim. She’s MY daughter, not yours. You may think he’s a fine kid, but how could I trust someone who’d beat two guys to death, keep beating on them even after they were dead. Not with my daughter I won’t.”
You know, Jeff, I promised myself last Saturday that I’d do anything to keep you from seeing the security tape from inside that vault, but maybe I was wrong then too. The coroner’s jury is done with it, maybe you should see it.”
15 minutes later Jeff Parker was shaking in anger and sobbing, watching Liz Parker struggle with Garber on the small video screen. As McMillan shot out the camera and the video ended, Valenti turned the lights back up in the room.
“Your daughter put up a good fight, a couple seconds after the video ended she apparently got a hand free and shoved a fingernail into that guy’s eye. Of course that probably just made him madder. If Max hadn’t stopped them, you know just as well as I do what would have happened to Liz, Jeff. Now look me in the face and tell me Max Evans used excessive force on those two.”
“Look Jim, I never said that those two were good guys, I never said that it was wrong for the kid to kill them. It’s just….well you need to listen to Ms. Frederickson, hear what she has to say. She’s sure that Evans kid abused Lizzie, Jim, she thinks he probably raped her.”
“That’s absolutely CRAZY, Jeff. Have you even asked Liz what happened, how she feels about Max?”
“She has already admitted that she doesn’t remember parts of her time in there Jim, Ms. Frederickson says she’s repressing the memories because they are too painful. No Jim, I can’t take the chance. Even if you like the boy, she’s my only child Jim, and I just can’t take the chance.”
“This isn’t about who I like or dislike, Jeff. This is about your daughter. SHE likes the Evans boy, she likes him a whole lot more than I think you realize. And Liz HAS been through a lot. You do something that hurts this kid, I’m telling you, she’ll never forgive you, Jeff.
I’m not talking about the usual parent-teenager troubles here either, I’m talking about crossing a line you may never be able to put right with your daughter.”
Jeff Parker looked at the Sheriff and shook his head. “You’re wrong, Sheriff. They’re schoolmates, sure, but they’ve never even dated. OK, maybe she does feel like he’s Sir Galahad right now, maybe she does feel grateful, even have a crush on him. But I’m not going to put my daughter at risk because she’s infatuated with someone when she can’t even remember what he did to her when they were together.”
Jim Valenti shook his head “Jeff, you are making a huge mistake. Didn’t you see the way she cradled that kid’s busted head in her lap? She was fighting as hard to get back to Max as she was to get away from Garber. I’m telling you, you are making a terrible mistake going after that kid.”
Jeff Parker had noticed his daughter, holding the young man and looking like her world had ended. But that was before he’d killed the two men, before the time Ms Frederickson talked about, before he would have had a chance to hurt Liz. And maybe she only looked that way, felt that way, because if he died that left her all alone with the two criminals. No, Jeff decided, he couldn’t take the chance.
But then he remembered the way Garber had treated his daughter. Could anything Max had done be worse than that, worse than what had clearly been in store for Liz at the hands of those two? Valenti had told him about the 14 year old, “shared” by the two for days, then killed. And about the 17 year old, driven insane by what one of them had done to her. His daughter had come out alive and sane, despite nightmares, memory lapses, and a few broken bones. Maybe he did owe the kid something at least.
“I’ll tell you what, Sheriff. I’ll call up Philip Evans and let him know about our concerns. If he can guarantee the boy will stay away from Lizzie, we may not have to get the court involved. But he’s got to stay away from her, and I’m having the school move her out of any classes they have together. And if the boy breaks that agreement, even once, we go straight to the court for an injunction. That’s the most I’m willing to compromise on this, I’ve got to protect my daughter.”
Friday afternoon 4PM Law Office of Philip Evans, J.D.
“You can’t ask me to do that, Dad!”
“I’m not asking you, Max, I’m telling you. You are not to have anything to do with Liz Parker. If you see her in the halls at school, get out of her way and let her bye. The Parkers are moving her out of any classes the two of you have together, so you won’t be lab partners anymore. You aren’t to try to speak with her at school, after school, on the phone, or any other way. If school business or something brings you together or you run into each other shopping or something, be polite, do your business, and leave. That’s the only way that the Parkers will agree not to go get a domestic abuse injunction against you.”
“I would NEVER abuse Liz in any way Dad!”
“Look son, are you sure there is nothing you did, nothing you might have said that the girl might have misinterpreted as…pushing her?”
Philip Evans loved his son, but he’d always felt that Max had some sort of secret, some hidden side that he just didn’t trust anyone enough to reveal. He hadn’t believed Jeff Parker’s claims that his son had abused his daughter, but…..he just wished Max weren’t so damned ..private at times. Sometimes he believed that Izzie was the only one Max really trusted. Maybe that strange Guerin kid a little. He’d known the Parkers for years and he’d seen Max’s eyes go to Liz Parker, linger there, and then look away quickly. Maybe he did have a crush on the girl, but he couldn’t believe that Max would actually hurt her. He hadn’t believed Max would ever hurt anybody.
But he’d been wrong about that he realized. He’d spent a weekend convinced that his son was dead or dying, locked up in a bank vault. But Max had survived, and he’d killed to do it. Somehow he couldn’t picture his gentle son bludgeoning those two to death, not that they hadn’t deserved it.
Could whatever the force, whatever the savagery that enabled him to survive that weekend also have lead his son to think of the young girl as his prize, as something he had somehow…earned?
“Liz didn’t cause this, Dad, Liz would never do this to me.”
And that scared Philip Evans even more somehow.
Max didn’t give his trust easily, but since he’d been told of the allegations against him he had stubbornly, obstinately, refused to even consider that Liz could have done this to him. They were little more than casual friends, lab partners who shared a couple of classes, but Max seemed to have total and absolute trust in the girl, refusing to believe she could have made these allegations, even though it was obvious that she was the only one who could have possibly made them.
And he was possessive toward her, in a way Max had never really been possessive towards anything ever before.
“Max, you need to keep away from her for now. You do not want a restraining order against you for allegations of domestic violence. Juvenile or not, that’d follow you for the rest of your life. Perhaps when things cool down I can set up a meeting with the Parkers and we can sit down and discuss easing up on the restrictions, if Miss Parker is willing, but not now. I don’t want you even talking to Jeff or Nancy right now, and certainly not their daughter. For whatever reason, they are angry and frightened of you. They are even thinking about sending their daughter to a boarding school out East somewhere. There is nothing to be gained by confrontation right now, just let it cool off. Do you understand that?”
Max looked as depressed and defeated as Philip had ever seen him. He looked up at his father and said, “Dad. Will you call Mr. Parker back and tell him to let Liz stay in the AP biology class and Pre-Calculus? I’ll switch to Regular biology and Trigonometry instead. She needs those classes to keep on track for her college major. She wants to be a molecular biologist.”
Philip Evans looked at his son who suddenly seemed as helpless as he’d been the first time Philip had seen him, walking naked with his sister along a desert road. He really had not believed the accusations against his son, but as a lawyer had done the ‘smart’ thing, he’d compromised to avoid a fight that he was probably going to lose because he really didn’t think his son knew this girl well enough or cared enough about her to take the risk of fighting an injunction.
He suddenly realized he’d been wrong in that assessment. He should have trusted his son, backed him up, fought for him. He’d given Jeff Parker his word though, and didn’t see how he could take it back now. Suddenly feeling almost as bad as his son looked, Philip Evans said, “OK Max, I’ll call Jeff Parker and tell him that.”
“You can’t ask me to do that, Dad!”
“I’m not asking you, Max, I’m telling you. You are not to have anything to do with Liz Parker. If you see her in the halls at school, get out of her way and let her bye. The Parkers are moving her out of any classes the two of you have together, so you won’t be lab partners anymore. You aren’t to try to speak with her at school, after school, on the phone, or any other way. If school business or something brings you together or you run into each other shopping or something, be polite, do your business, and leave. That’s the only way that the Parkers will agree not to go get a domestic abuse injunction against you.”
“I would NEVER abuse Liz in any way Dad!”
“Look son, are you sure there is nothing you did, nothing you might have said that the girl might have misinterpreted as…pushing her?”
Philip Evans loved his son, but he’d always felt that Max had some sort of secret, some hidden side that he just didn’t trust anyone enough to reveal. He hadn’t believed Jeff Parker’s claims that his son had abused his daughter, but…..he just wished Max weren’t so damned ..private at times. Sometimes he believed that Izzie was the only one Max really trusted. Maybe that strange Guerin kid a little. He’d known the Parkers for years and he’d seen Max’s eyes go to Liz Parker, linger there, and then look away quickly. Maybe he did have a crush on the girl, but he couldn’t believe that Max would actually hurt her. He hadn’t believed Max would ever hurt anybody.
But he’d been wrong about that he realized. He’d spent a weekend convinced that his son was dead or dying, locked up in a bank vault. But Max had survived, and he’d killed to do it. Somehow he couldn’t picture his gentle son bludgeoning those two to death, not that they hadn’t deserved it.
Could whatever the force, whatever the savagery that enabled him to survive that weekend also have lead his son to think of the young girl as his prize, as something he had somehow…earned?
“Liz didn’t cause this, Dad, Liz would never do this to me.”
And that scared Philip Evans even more somehow.
Max didn’t give his trust easily, but since he’d been told of the allegations against him he had stubbornly, obstinately, refused to even consider that Liz could have done this to him. They were little more than casual friends, lab partners who shared a couple of classes, but Max seemed to have total and absolute trust in the girl, refusing to believe she could have made these allegations, even though it was obvious that she was the only one who could have possibly made them.
And he was possessive toward her, in a way Max had never really been possessive towards anything ever before.
“Max, you need to keep away from her for now. You do not want a restraining order against you for allegations of domestic violence. Juvenile or not, that’d follow you for the rest of your life. Perhaps when things cool down I can set up a meeting with the Parkers and we can sit down and discuss easing up on the restrictions, if Miss Parker is willing, but not now. I don’t want you even talking to Jeff or Nancy right now, and certainly not their daughter. For whatever reason, they are angry and frightened of you. They are even thinking about sending their daughter to a boarding school out East somewhere. There is nothing to be gained by confrontation right now, just let it cool off. Do you understand that?”
Max looked as depressed and defeated as Philip had ever seen him. He looked up at his father and said, “Dad. Will you call Mr. Parker back and tell him to let Liz stay in the AP biology class and Pre-Calculus? I’ll switch to Regular biology and Trigonometry instead. She needs those classes to keep on track for her college major. She wants to be a molecular biologist.”
Philip Evans looked at his son who suddenly seemed as helpless as he’d been the first time Philip had seen him, walking naked with his sister along a desert road. He really had not believed the accusations against his son, but as a lawyer had done the ‘smart’ thing, he’d compromised to avoid a fight that he was probably going to lose because he really didn’t think his son knew this girl well enough or cared enough about her to take the risk of fighting an injunction.
He suddenly realized he’d been wrong in that assessment. He should have trusted his son, backed him up, fought for him. He’d given Jeff Parker his word though, and didn’t see how he could take it back now. Suddenly feeling almost as bad as his son looked, Philip Evans said, “OK Max, I’ll call Jeff Parker and tell him that.”
Friday Evening 7 PM The Evans house
This had already been the worst day of Isabel Evans’ life and it still had five hours to go. Her brother had come home at 5:00, the Jeep followed closely by her father’s car. Max had gone immediately to his room, and started a “Counting Crows” medley on his CD player.
When she’d gone to bring him to dinner he had ignored her, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, listening to the music. When she’d told her parents he wasn’t coming, their father had explained what had happened. This triggered a verbal sparring match between the senior Evans’ as to whether or not her dad had done enough to defend Max from obviously scurrilous allegations. Her father had looked at her Mom and said that as far as he had known Max and Liz barely knew each other, and he had no idea why she’d made the allegations, but the simplest and safest thing to do had been just to humor her parents.
At that point he’d looked at Isabel and asked her flat out, “Do you know if there’s anything going on between Max and Liz?”
“Well, gee Dad, no, not really, other than maybe they love each other a lot…..”
“Love??” said Dianne Evans? “Who is this girl? What happened to being friends, dating, liking one another, introducing to Mom and Dad? How did something go from nothing to “love” without anybody telling the parents? And if this “Liz” loves Max so much, why would she make these terrible accusations against him?
“Liz would never do that, Mom. That just isn’t possible. Somebody else has to be pushing this. Liz would rather die than hurt Max.”
At that point Phillip Evans jumped back in. “Liz would rather die than hurt Max? Both of my children, my children who don’t even trust me to know that this girl even exists, the girl that my son appears to have a budding romance with that I haven’t even been made aware of, both of you seem to have infinite trust in this young girl. Who else but Liz could have made these allegations?”
Dianne Evans looked at her daughter. “Isabel, why didn’t you tell me about your brother and this girl?”
“Well Mom, I guess I really didn’t approve.”
“Is there something wrong with her?”
Isabel suddenly felt guilty as she realized the truth of the statement she was about to make. “No Mom, really there’s not. She’s really a very fine person who has loved Max at least since the seventh grade. Both of them were too shy to get together……………………. No, that’s not really the truth. I kind of broke them up in the seventh grade before they really got together. But she’s never stopped loving Max and as for Max, well he’s loved her since we stepped off the bus in the third grade. And after what they’ve been through together lately, I guess I don’t see them ever being apart. That’s why it couldn’t be her.”
“Why didn’t you approve of them, dear?” asked Dianne Evans.
“I think because I didn’t trust her. Or maybe I was just jealous, didn’t want to lose Max to her.”
“But you’d trust her now?” asked Phillip Evans.
“Yeah Dad, I’d trust her with my life. I’d trust her with Max’s life. Liz would never hurt him. This isn’t her doing. She’d be more upset than anyone if her parents hurt Max, and if they file the injunction against him I think that’s the last they’ll ever see of her.”
“That would be horrible if they lost their daughter over a misunderstanding, Isabel. And it would be horrible for that little girl, all by herself in the world,” said Dianne Evans.
Isabel looked at her parents in disbelief. “You don’t get it, do you?
When those two guys came into the bank Max was way over in the loan department with you, Dad. By the time the shooting started, Max was between them and Liz, that’s how he got crowded into the vault.
He and Liz were having some issues, she wasn’t even really happy with their relationship right then. But Max was there for her because she needed him. Max will always be there for Liz if she needs him. If she leaves Roswell, she won’t be alone.”
Diane Evans was stunned………….
Philip Evans shook his head, ‘This couldn’t be true……he couldn’t have made that big a mistake, could he?’
Amy Hit the Atmosphere
If I could make it rain today
And wash away this sunny day down to the gutter
I would
Just to get a change of pace
Things are getting worse, but I feel a lot better
And that's all that really matters to me
Well, Amy hit the atmosphere
Caught herself a rocket ride out of this gutter
And she's never coming back I fear
Anytime it rains she just feels a lot better
And that's all that really matters to me
We've waited so long
For someone to take us back home
It just takes so long
Meanwhile all the days go drifting away
And some of us sink like a stone
Waiting for mothers to come
There has to be a change I'm sure
Today was just a day fading into another
And that can't be what a life is for
And anything she said well she feels a lot better
And that's all that really matters to me
We've waited so long
For someone to take us back home
It just takes so long
Meanwhile the days go drifting away
And some of us sink like a stone
Waiting for mothers to come
I wanna know, I wanna know, I wanna know, I wanna know
I wanna know, I wanna know, I wanna know, I wanna know
All I really know is I wanna know
And all I really know is I don't wanna know
And all I really know is I don't wanna know
And all I really know is I don't wanna know
And all I really know is I don't wanna know
And all I really know is I don't wanna know
And all I really know is I don't wanna know
This had already been the worst day of Isabel Evans’ life and it still had five hours to go. Her brother had come home at 5:00, the Jeep followed closely by her father’s car. Max had gone immediately to his room, and started a “Counting Crows” medley on his CD player.
When she’d gone to bring him to dinner he had ignored her, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, listening to the music. When she’d told her parents he wasn’t coming, their father had explained what had happened. This triggered a verbal sparring match between the senior Evans’ as to whether or not her dad had done enough to defend Max from obviously scurrilous allegations. Her father had looked at her Mom and said that as far as he had known Max and Liz barely knew each other, and he had no idea why she’d made the allegations, but the simplest and safest thing to do had been just to humor her parents.
At that point he’d looked at Isabel and asked her flat out, “Do you know if there’s anything going on between Max and Liz?”
“Well, gee Dad, no, not really, other than maybe they love each other a lot…..”
“Love??” said Dianne Evans? “Who is this girl? What happened to being friends, dating, liking one another, introducing to Mom and Dad? How did something go from nothing to “love” without anybody telling the parents? And if this “Liz” loves Max so much, why would she make these terrible accusations against him?
“Liz would never do that, Mom. That just isn’t possible. Somebody else has to be pushing this. Liz would rather die than hurt Max.”
At that point Phillip Evans jumped back in. “Liz would rather die than hurt Max? Both of my children, my children who don’t even trust me to know that this girl even exists, the girl that my son appears to have a budding romance with that I haven’t even been made aware of, both of you seem to have infinite trust in this young girl. Who else but Liz could have made these allegations?”
Dianne Evans looked at her daughter. “Isabel, why didn’t you tell me about your brother and this girl?”
“Well Mom, I guess I really didn’t approve.”
“Is there something wrong with her?”
Isabel suddenly felt guilty as she realized the truth of the statement she was about to make. “No Mom, really there’s not. She’s really a very fine person who has loved Max at least since the seventh grade. Both of them were too shy to get together……………………. No, that’s not really the truth. I kind of broke them up in the seventh grade before they really got together. But she’s never stopped loving Max and as for Max, well he’s loved her since we stepped off the bus in the third grade. And after what they’ve been through together lately, I guess I don’t see them ever being apart. That’s why it couldn’t be her.”
“Why didn’t you approve of them, dear?” asked Dianne Evans.
“I think because I didn’t trust her. Or maybe I was just jealous, didn’t want to lose Max to her.”
“But you’d trust her now?” asked Phillip Evans.
“Yeah Dad, I’d trust her with my life. I’d trust her with Max’s life. Liz would never hurt him. This isn’t her doing. She’d be more upset than anyone if her parents hurt Max, and if they file the injunction against him I think that’s the last they’ll ever see of her.”
“That would be horrible if they lost their daughter over a misunderstanding, Isabel. And it would be horrible for that little girl, all by herself in the world,” said Dianne Evans.
Isabel looked at her parents in disbelief. “You don’t get it, do you?
When those two guys came into the bank Max was way over in the loan department with you, Dad. By the time the shooting started, Max was between them and Liz, that’s how he got crowded into the vault.
He and Liz were having some issues, she wasn’t even really happy with their relationship right then. But Max was there for her because she needed him. Max will always be there for Liz if she needs him. If she leaves Roswell, she won’t be alone.”
Diane Evans was stunned………….
Philip Evans shook his head, ‘This couldn’t be true……he couldn’t have made that big a mistake, could he?’
Amy Hit the Atmosphere
If I could make it rain today
And wash away this sunny day down to the gutter
I would
Just to get a change of pace
Things are getting worse, but I feel a lot better
And that's all that really matters to me
Well, Amy hit the atmosphere
Caught herself a rocket ride out of this gutter
And she's never coming back I fear
Anytime it rains she just feels a lot better
And that's all that really matters to me
We've waited so long
For someone to take us back home
It just takes so long
Meanwhile all the days go drifting away
And some of us sink like a stone
Waiting for mothers to come
There has to be a change I'm sure
Today was just a day fading into another
And that can't be what a life is for
And anything she said well she feels a lot better
And that's all that really matters to me
We've waited so long
For someone to take us back home
It just takes so long
Meanwhile the days go drifting away
And some of us sink like a stone
Waiting for mothers to come
I wanna know, I wanna know, I wanna know, I wanna know
I wanna know, I wanna know, I wanna know, I wanna know
All I really know is I wanna know
And all I really know is I don't wanna know
And all I really know is I don't wanna know
And all I really know is I don't wanna know
And all I really know is I don't wanna know
And all I really know is I don't wanna know
And all I really know is I don't wanna know