When the Night Calls Page 9

  He leaned forward and propped his elbows on the desk and ran his fingers through his hair. He stared at the wall and screamed. It had taken a matter of minutes for his entire livelihood to be flushed down the drain.

  “You all set in there, Dr. Montague?” an officer asked as he knocked on the door.

  Daniel looked up and scowled at the man. When he lifted his arm, a sticky note clung to his elbow. He pulled it off and looked at the scribbled writing. He stared at the numbers as he spun a pen around between his fingers.

  “Yeah…yeah I’m good,” Daniel mumbled.

  He quickly stood up and grabbed his keys. Storming passed the officer he drove his shoulder into his chest and walked out of the door. Without looking back, he headed to the elevator and pressed the button for the garage.

  MURKY WATERS

  The night seemed to invite Daniel into mischief. There were no cars on the road and a thick fog clouded his visibility. The cloak of cover made him feel at home, made him feel like he was back in his element.

  He drove down the freeway like a ghost as he searched for an on ramp to State Road 65. Images of Sherri's broken body flashed in and out of his mind. Whoever was responsible had seemed to take an unhealthy interest in him.

  Daniel looked down to at the crumpled sticky note in his hand. It read Mile Marker 13, a destination that had haunted his thoughts for weeks. What did it mean? Why was he dreaming about it? Daniel wasn’t sure, but now was just as good as any time to find out.

  His car cut through the fog like a laser. The headlights were a small beacon in a sea of dark, speeding their way toward a mystery.

  It was only minutes before he could see it, five miles past the last rest stop. Daniel slowed down and edged off the highway next to a small, blue sign with the number thirteen on it. There was a narrow dirt path that ran back into a thick patch of woods. He turned the wheel and followed the path back into the darkness.

  His BMW rocked and lurched awkwardly as it sputtered down the bumpy road. The path was dark and the trees so thick it was completely obscured from the highway. His headlights disappeared into the shadows like phantoms.

  The road slowly began to open and the trees cleared. In front of him there was nothing but a black void. Daniel leaned forward, squinting as the car continued to roll. Suddenly, he slammed his foot on the brakes as he heard the swoosh of rushing water.

  The tires dug into the mud as the car skidded to a stop. Just in front of the hood Daniel could see the black waters of the swirling Mississippi River. He let out a breath and rested his head on the steering wheel.

  "Shit," he grumbled in relief.

  Cautiously, he stepped out of the car and his feet sank into the muddy bank. Water splashed onto his shoes as it ran its course towards the ocean. The wind whistled and howled whipping Daniel’s hair into a frenzy.

  He looked out into the murky water and felt a sudden feeling of calmness. He took a deep breath, sucking in the fresh, night air. It smelled like rainwater and leaves, a reminder of another time in his life.

  For a moment everything faded away and he was carefree again. Like a boulder had been lifted off his shoulders. Like he could do whatever he wanted.

  He stood at the river for what felt like hours, time fading into the abysmal slop. The tumbling water sung a peaceful lullaby that echoed through the cool night. Daniel’s head swayed back and forth like a pendulum while he fluttered on the brink of consciousness.

  A sudden crack of thunder snapped him out of his trance. Rain pelted his face as lightning lit up the sky like the flash from a camera. Thoughts of Sherri, Victor, and Lawson came flooding back into Daniel’s brain and he groaned.

  The reality of having to break the news to Monica was daunting. And an even scarier thought was the possibility of Victor being guilty. He had convinced himself there was no way Victor could have done this, but how could he really know.

  Daniel leaned his head back and let the rain run down his forehead. He knelt and grabbed a handful of the muddy sand and rubbed it in between his fingers. It felt good, it felt right. Daniel’s hands were more aptly fit for the grit and grind of hard labor than they’d ever be for his current profession. Something about the absolution of the battlefield always brought him peace.

  "Why...why now?" he mumbled.

  He couldn't ignore the concern he felt. He couldn't pretend like the growing pile of dead bodies wasn't making the hairs on his arms stand on end. There was something very wrong and Daniel knew that it would only get worse.

  He grunted then brushed the dirt off his pants. He glanced around one more time at the churning water, the mysterious depths were haunting. He smiled as if they were a long-lost friend. He'd be back, he knew he'd be back.

  Soaking wet and dirty, he plopped into the black BMW and shook his head like a dog. He cranked up the engine and let the car idle momentarily. He stared at his hands and rubbed the remnants of mud in between his thumb and forefinger.

  Fog had blown in from the highway and was now covering the river’s edge like a blanket. It was like the river didn't want him to leave and Daniel had a hard time pulling himself away.

  Reluctantly, he slowly turned the car around, careful not to drive into the water. He'd come for answers, like his unconscious had been trying to tell him something. But now he was leaving with more questions.

  As he pulled back out onto the road, reality came back to him. He wasn’t sure how long it would take to get home, but Daniel knew Monica had probably noticed his absence by now. He could only imagine what her reaction would be once he told her Victor had been arrested. Even worse, the news of Sherri’s death would probably send her over the top.

  Daniel stared down the empty road and huffed. The highway was a barren slick of oil with rain rolling into the teeming gutters. The constant staccato against the windshield played an ominous melody. The eerie night was a backdrop to the stage of horror that was unfolding.

  The BMW made quick work of the lonely stretch of highway. Soon the empty streets were replaced with blazing lights and wide, stately homes.

  As Daniel pulled into the driveway he could hear Pocket barking loudly. The lights were on and he knew Monica had to still be up. He methodically stepped out of the car and stretched before heading inside.

  He walked through the foyer and into the kitchen. Monica was standing near the refrigerator pouring herself a glass of water. She looked up and smiled at him, but immediately changed her expression as she took in his appearance.

  “Daniel, oh my God! Are you alright?” she started towards him, but paused as he spoke.

  “Lawson thinks he found the killer,” Daniel grumbled his voice low and scratchy.

  Monica gasped and dropped her glass. Daniel pressed forward ignoring the broken cup.

  “He thinks it was Victor,” his voice sounded desperate.

  Monica stared at him, her eyes wide open, the color fading from her skin. Daniel glanced at her momentarily then looked away.

  “They um...” he paused and took a deep breath. “They...they found...Sherri’s dead. They found her body in the lobby of our office,” he finished abruptly.

  Monica grimaced then leaned on the counter to keep herself from falling. She closed her eyes and took several slow, deep breaths. With a drained face, she looked up at Daniel.

  “Oh my...oh my God,” she stuttered in something less than a whisper. "Sherri, not her too."

  Daniel had lowered his head and was swaying back and forth. His bottom lip was curled in between his teeth and his eyes fixed on something no one else could see.

  Monica carefully stepped around the broken glass and grabbed him by the back of his head. She pulled him in close and hugged him, rubbing his head gently.

  “I can’t believe it. I can't believe Victor killed her. I would’ve never thought,” Monica whispered in his ear as she ran her fingers through his hair.

  Daniel snapped up suddenly. He grabbed Monica by the shoulders and pushed her away, so they were standing face to fa
ce.

  “Victor didn’t do anything! Don’t ever say that!”

  “Okay, okay,” Monica stammered. "What was I supposed to think?"

  Daniel glared at her with an anger in his eyes that was normally reserved for people like Sandra. He disapprovingly shook his head then looked away.

  “I’m sorry,” Monica mumbled. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “I have to take a shower,” he responded dismissively.

  Daniel turned and walked off leaving Monica standing alone in the kitchen. She sighed then shut off the light and headed back to the couch. She grabbed her laptop and went back to jabbing at the keys like nothing ever happened.

  The next morning the alarm clock buzzed loudly as Daniel stared, watching the numbers magically tick from six fifty-nine to seven o’clock. He hadn't slept at all, instead he'd spent the night gazing at the ceiling fan and stalking his alarm clock.

  Yawning, he turned off the buzzer and headed into the bathroom. Within minutes he was dressed and ready to leave the house. He had a plan and wasting time wasn't part of it.

  As he walked into the living room, Monica looked up at him. Pocket was lying near her feet on his back, running in his sleep. Daniel eyed them both for a moment then grabbed his keys and turned to leave.

  "Daniel," Monica called.

  "What?"

  "I'm sorry...about last night. I thought that's what you'd come to tell me. I'm sorry."

  "I've gotta go," he replied and walked out of the door.

  Still fuming, he drove to the New Orleans Parish Jail and sat in his car out in the parking lot. He had a few minutes before he could head in and it gave him ample time to reflect on the last twenty-four hours.

  He groaned as he tried to contemplate how his life had become so chaotic so quickly. People were starting to die all around him and now one of his best friends was the prime suspect in their deaths. He knew Lawson didn't have a case, but that wouldn't stop him. Daniel knew all too well the lengths Lawson would go to just to prove a point.

  "Worthless prick," Daniel grumbled under his breath.

  Trying to keep a calm demeanor, he stepped out of the car and headed into the large, brown colored building. As he strode through the heavy metal doors and the metal detector, a chill ran down his spine. He’d had more than his fair share of confinement and the eerie feeling of the parish jail was one he could do without.

  He headed down a long hallway following a sign that read “Central Booking.” Even at that hour the jail was a tangled knot of the city’s desperate. Crime didn't have a shift and although the administrative staff was just showing up, the real gears of the machine had been churning away through the night.

  As Daniel rounded the last corner he almost ran right into Sheriff Lawson. He'd been absent-mindedly marching across the slick linoleum floors, mumbling to himself. The sheriff was shocked to see him, but his surprise quickly turned into anger.

  “Daniel! What the hell are you…your buddy Victor is a real piece of work,” Lawson spat. “You come down here to offer him some encouraging words before we fry his ass?”

  Daniel sighed. He wasn’t ready to relive their little scuffle last night, but it became apparent that Lawson wasn’t done yet. Daniel tried to walk past him, but Lawson stepped in front.

  “I have half a mind to toss you in there with him you know,” Lawson said through gritted teeth.

  Daniel stared back at him and was suddenly overwhelmed with anger. His entire demeanor changed and he had to fight the urge to smash Lawson’s nose into his face. All he could think of was how good it would feel to beat Lawson senseless.

  “Yeah, you would, but I’d like to see you try it,” Daniel growled and took a step forward.

  “Oh, you think I won’t?”

  “I know you won’t. I’m sure Judge Dickson would love to hear how one of his officers tried to kill a suspect. How he attacked him for no reason or better yet, attacked him because he was having an affair with his wife.”

  Lawson clenched his fists and swallowed. He’d had problems with Judge Dickson in the past and knew his job was already in jeopardy. Rolling his eyes, he loosened up and appeared to deflate a bit.

  Daniel edged closer, continuing to press the Sheriff. Lawson needed a little of his own medicine. “Oh and by the way, I’m here to bail Victor out. So you can give him those encouraging words your fucking self.”

  That sent Lawson over the edge. His face flushed crimson red and little beads of sweat ran down his nose. His chest swelled, and he cleared his throat loudly.

  “You look here, Doc. I don’t give a shit who you think you know, or who you think you are. That murdering son of a bitch ain't stepping one foot outside this jail!”

  He lunged towards Daniel and shoved him in the chest. Daniel slammed into the wall with a startled expression on his face. Grinning, he started after Lawson, but the sheriff quickly reached for his weapon.

  “Sheriff, that’s enough!” Judge Dickson’s voice boomed loudly, echoing down the hall.

  Daniel looked up as the judge strode towards them. He was a towering man who seemed more like a basketball center than a judge. His shaggy, brown hair with streaks of gray in it resembled an aging hippy. His demeanor was calm, but something in his eyes said he meant business.

  Lawson moved his hand away from his holster and took a step back. He glanced at the judge then to Daniel with an agitated look.

  “Morning, Daniel,” the judge said as he reached out and shook Daniel's hand. “If you’ll follow me, bail was set this morning for Victor.”

  Lawson opened his mouth, but no words came out. His eyes jittered around the hallway like he was having a seizure and he squeezed his fingers together so tightly his knuckles cracked. Clenching his jaw, he grunted and stormed off down the hall.

  Daniel was ushered into the lobby and took a seat against the wall. The judge ran off to the counter and started whispering to one of the aides who motioned at Daniel and then disappeared into the back.

  Luckily for Daniel, one of the first people he’d met when he started his practice in New Orleans was Judge Dickson, then a promising defense attorney. They’d been close friends ever since and he was the first person Daniel called when he got up that morning. He felt it was always a good thing to keep a few aces in the hole.

  Judge Dickson waved Daniel over. “So, you’re gonna have to put up the ten thousand. Not a lot I can do on that, but I'm sure you can afford it.”

  Daniel shrieked a bit at the number and then took out his checkbook. "I can pay it, Judge, but I'm not sure I can afford it."

  Dickson smiled and took his check. "I'll be right back," he said and headed around the corner.

  Daniel nodded and sat back down. The lobby was starting to fill up and the buzz of street talk filled the air. Daniel looked from side to side at the wide array of residents that had woken up early to come and visit or bail out someone.

  "It never gets old," an older gentleman with thick eyebrows and a scratchy, gray mustache said as Daniel caught his eye.

  "Excuse me," Daniel replied.

  "You try to raise them right. You try to teach them and they end up in here anyway. Some will just never learn. Same old mistakes over and over...they think the past won't catch up with them, but it always does.

  Daniel swallowed and offered a friendly smile. The old man glared back at him with a strange look on his face. It was like he was expecting something from Daniel, but didn't want to give away too much.

  Daniel was relieved when the judge appeared from around the corner. He quickly jumped to his feet to greet him. "Have a nice day," Daniel mumbled and headed off.

  “Alright, Danny everything’s A okay. Victor will be out in a few. When it comes time for Melanie’s new rack I expect a little preferential pricing,” the judge said and raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, of course,” Daniel replied with a smile.

  The judge shook Daniel’s hand and nodded. “Good luck to you and your pal. Lawson can be a real pr
ick and if he mishandles one piece of this investigation, you can rest assured I’ll have his ass in a sling,” he patted Daniel on the arm and then headed back to his chambers.

  A few minutes passed before Daniel caught a glimpse of two officers escorting Victor down the hall. He’d been given back the clothes he was arrested in and had obviously not taken a bath or seen the like of soap and water.

  Sulking, he headed down the hall toward his supposed freedom. He looked pathetic and weak, like a defeated man with nothing left to fight for. He shuffled slowly across the tile, sniffling as he went.

  “You still a virgin?” Daniel said as Victor approached.

  One of the officers laughed, but Victor continued to stare at the ground. The officer nudged him in the back and Victor shivered like a terrified child.

  “He’s all yours doc, I’m sure Lawson will be in touch,” the officer said and shook Daniel’s hand.

  Victor’s gaze trailed off, following the officer. He watched him apprehensively as he turned down the hallway. Even after he'd vanished from sight Victor still gazed into the back with a look of terror.

  His eyes were bloodshot red and the stubble on his face made him look homeless. He was a wreck, a ball of nervous anxiety ready to explode at any second.

  A phone rang in the distance and he jumped at the sound. He whipped his head around and made quick shallow breaths as he fidgeted and twisted his fingers together.

  “Jesus, Vic, it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours,” Daniel said with a look of concern.

  Wrapping his arms around Victor's shoulders, he walked him towards the door. The normally vibrant and cheerful guy, that checked out everyone woman he passed looked pathetic. He scuttled out of the jail like a terrified freshman on the first day of high school. He didn't say another word until they were in the car riding down the highway, far from Lawson's reach.

  “She…she was in my back seat,” Victor whispered as he stared out of the window.

  Daniel glanced at him then back to the road. They were now passing through a rural area just outside of the city. There were hardly any buildings and sides of the roads were littered with broken fences and overgrown weeds.