Twisted: Nick Stryker Series, Book Two The Shallow End Gals Page 5

  Renee locked eyes with Dr. Elmhurst. He had been watching from outside the room. He muttered, “Nice job,” turned and walked away.

  Renee rested against the hallway wall, her heart pounding. She had been told there were no patients in this wing.

  * * *

  The sign announced Brookfield Place / Restricted Facility. Eli’s car turned into the densely wooded lane and Mitch followed in Momma’s car. It seemed as if they drove a few miles before reaching an iron gate. The gate was attached to a tall concrete wall topped with razor wire. Eli had stopped his car and was talking to a uniformed guard that had appeared from a small brick building. The guard kept glancing back at Mitch. Mitch waved each time. Mitch couldn’t believe that Renee worked at this place. A psycho prison?

  Eli pulled his car over to park in front of the small brick building and walked back to Mitch’s car. “Guard says the only cars that can go in have to be on his register list. He says we can drive Momma’s car in for Renee, but we have to either have the campus cops drive us back or walk.”

  Mitch frowned, “Campus cops? Does he think this is a college or something?”

  Eli shrugged. “He told me they try to maintain a casual living environment for the patients.”

  Mitch frowned as he pulled the car through the tall iron gate. “You mean prisoners, don’t you? This place is creepy. Seemed pretty damn easy to get past that guard; you’d think it would be harder to get in this place.”

  Eli chuckled, “I think the trick is getting out.”

  The drive ahead made a big circle to the right and Eli pointed, “Guard says we have to look for Building D. He says it’s way to the back. That’s where all the really bad patients are.” Eli was looking out his window at the people walking around or just standing still looking at the ground. “I can’t believe my sister works here.”

  “I can’t believe you talked me into coming here with you.” Suddenly a man jumped out from some bushes directly in front of the car and started waving his arms for them to stop.

  Eli and Mitch looked at each other. Mitch stopped and rolled down his window. The man had putrid breath and only a few teeth. He stuck his head too far into Mitch’s window and Mitch leaned toward Eli.

  “You got cigarettes? Booze? You need cigarettes to move on.” The man was making grabbing motions with his hands. Eli took a candy bar out of his pocket and tossed it to the man who ran away giggling.

  Mitch sighed as he moved the car forward again. “Where are these cops that are supposed to get us out of here?” They turned a bend in the road and an old man in a wheelchair sat motionless at the curb. Mitch slowed to almost a stop. The old man’s chin rested in the center of his chest. Mitch looked at Eli, “I think that dude is dead.”

  Eli motioned Mitch to move on. “Remind me to tell Renee.”

  It seemed as though they would never get to Building D. Eli read off the letters on the other buildings as they passed them.

  Mitch looked over, “I can read.”

  “Sorry. This place just creeps me out. It’s startin’ to get dark out and there ain’t no way I want to walk all the way back to that guardhouse.”

  Finally Building D loomed in front of them. It looked different from the other buildings. It almost looked like some kind of large castle. Mitch parked in the employee parking space in front of the massive door. “I’ll wait for you here.”

  “Like hell you say. I ain’t goin’ in there alone.” Mitch was afraid Eli would say that.

  They both walked slowly to the front door. No one seemed to bother them or even care that they were there. When they entered the foyer a large man stood with his arms crossed at his chest. He put one ham sized hand up and asked, “Where do you gentlemen need to go?”

  Eli cleared his throat and said, “I need to see a nurse here named Renee Johnson.”

  The big man nodded his head and turned, “Follow me.”

  Mitch elbowed Eli at the sight of a woman picking the leaves off a potted tree and eating them. Eli raised his eyebrows and quickened his pace to be closer to their escort. The big man pointed down a hall. “Don’t be goin’ down that way. Got a whole bunch of them down there that won’t take any meds. Some ain’t so bad, but most will hurt ya just for fun.”

  Mitch was now even with Eli, the two of them practically on the heels of the big man. He continued his tour advice. “See them double doors down there? That’s where the dining room is. If we can’t find Ms. Johnson, she might be in there. Don’t want you two in there though. They always think new people are there to steal their food. Gets real nasty mighty fast with them all havin’ knives and such.”

  Eli had no doubt the first chance he got he was going to talk Renee into getting a new job. Just then Renee came from around the corner. She put her hands on her hips and shouted for someone named Ryan. Ryan ran from around the corner and quickly tackled the big man and cuffed his wrists with zip ties.

  “How the hell did you get out this time?” Another orderly showed up and helped escort the laughing man down the long hall.

  Renee smiled at Eli. “You just let a serial killer give you a tour of the facility.”

  Eli nearly fainted. Mitch grabbed the wall for security. “How do you work here?”

  Renee’s expression got very serious. “It isn’t easy.”

  Eli remembered the man in a wheelchair. “It looks like some old dead guy in a wheelchair out by the road.”

  Renee sighed, “He’s probably been over medicated is all. I’ll have someone check on him.”

  Mitch handed her the car keys. “We parked out front. Momma said not to rush about getting it back to her. She knows you have to save up for a new one.” Renee looked like she was going to cry.

  She kissed Mitch’s cheek. “You give that to Momma for me.”

  Eli asked, “Can you call the campus cops to take us back to the gate?”

  Renee shook her head, “I will if you want, but it will take them at least an hour to get here. They don’t like Building D.”

  Mitch watched the woman eat more leaves from the tree and then looked at Eli. “I ain’t waitin’ no hour. Let’s just go.”

  Eli and Mitch headed back toward the gate at a quick walking pace. Soon there were three men walking behind them. Eli and Mitch increased their speed to a moderate jog. Now there were five men jogging behind them; one of them pushing the old dead man in the wheelchair. Soon more men jumped from the bushes and joined the group. Eli and Mitch poured on the steam to stay ahead of the growing mob. Mitch started screaming in a high pitch and the mob mimicked him. Mitch and Eli hit the gate at a flat out run, shaking the iron bars and screaming for the guard.

  * * *

  It had been a heavy dinner rush at Momma’s. Everyone knew that Tuesdays were meatball sub day. Artie caught on quickly and before long he was singing out the orders to Momma like he had worked there all of his life. When the last customer left, Artie leaned against the cash register and whistled. “Woman, you can surely work the pants off a fella.”

  Momma leaned over and kissed Artie’s cheek. “Soon as the boys get back from deliverin’ that car we got another job to do.”

  Artie wiped his brow in an exaggerated movement. “And just what new hell do you have planned for me?”

  Momma smiled, “I was hopin’ you would help me take some meatballs to the community.”

  “What community?”

  “Mitch calls them the tunnel people. We discovered a passageway to the tunnels from my basement last year and found a whole ‘nother city down there.”

  Artie had heard rumors about people living in the tunnels under the city. He had to admit that it fascinated him. “It would be my pleasure, darlin’.”

  * * *

  Mo drove the Jeep to the house owned by Flash’s mom. He parked in the driveway and noticed a man across the street waxing a Camry that had a for sale sign on the windshield. Mo asked Flash, “How much you think he wants for that car?”

  “Too much, knowing him. It’s
been for sale since last fall.”

  Mo got an idea. “Maybe he’d be ready to deal? Let’s say this Jeep and some mighty fine guns for that car.”

  Flash shook his head. “I think them guns alone worth more than that car.”

  Mo’s eyes got big, “Not to me they ain’t. I want them gone.”

  “Good point.”

  Mo and Flash walked across the street and found out that Gus wanted five thousand dollars for his nine year old Camry. Mo proposed his deal and the three of them walked across the street to look at the guns. Mo could tell that Gus loved the guns, but was trying to play it cool.

  “Lookey here where the numbers was scratched off. Who these guns belong to?”

  Mo answered, “I ain’t gonna lie to ya. We don’t know nothin’ ‘bout the history of these guns. We kind of just ended up with them this mornin’. Here’s the deal, the guns and the Jeep for your car.”

  Gus held up the long gun. “This here is old school. Favorite rifle for mob hits in the old days.” Gus stared through the scope and pretended to shoot. “Sniper shot, that was.”

  Flash and Mo glanced at each other.

  Gus turned to Mo. “That Jeep got a title or did it just show up this mornin’, too?”

  Half an hour later, Flash and Mo were cruising through the hood in their new Camry looking to score some weed. Life was good again.

  * * *

  Mitch and Eli arrived back at Momma’s just before closing. After listening to their account of their horror trip, Momma talked them into helping her carry the two crock pots of meatballs down to the tunnel. Artie carried a large bag of sub sandwich buns and Momma had a sack of apples and oranges. Artie was amazed at the tunnel entrance in Momma’s basement.

  “I could have sure used this in my younger days. What a great escape route from the coppers.” Artie ran his hands over the large wheel lock door to the entrance. “They don’t make stuff like this anymore.”

  Once through the opening, Artie’s jaw dropped at the sheer expanse of the room they were in. Eli explained to him that the city’s main water system line used to be housed there. Dozens of tunnels shot off from all sides.

  Artie asked, “You guys explore all of these tunnels?”

  Momma answered, “Joseph said most of them are blocked off and sometimes the bad people hide there.”

  Artie frowned, “Who is Joseph?”

  Mitch pointed to a large man walking toward them out of the steam vent tunnel. “Him.”

  Joseph walked over and gave Momma a hug and kiss, shook hands with Mitch and Eli and introduced himself to Artie. “They call me the Mayor of this little community. My name is Joseph.”

  * * *

  Jen walked into the homicide room and sat at her desk. Wayne looked up from his computer. “Nick okay?”

  “Yeah, I had to drop him off downtown so he could get his bike. He tried to lend it to Jim to use until the insurance company paid up on the car Nick trashed.”

  Sam stood and put his jacket on to go home. “Not just any car. A GTO.” Sam shook his head and started laughing. “I can’t get that image out of my head. A friggin’ grenade!”

  Jen started a list of places she could call to follow up on Jake Billow. It didn’t take her long to discover that the prison system as it relates to the mental health system in general was in crisis and that the mental health system within the Department of Corrections was pure chaos. Legislation in Illinois since 2011 made it clear that the state wanted out of the business of mental health. The industry, including prisoner housing, had been privatized with little funding allocated for monitoring. Jen got a chill. It didn’t take much imagination to see the risks of these new policies. Nick may be right. Billow may be out.

  Wayne was still reviewing the bank records search on Attorney Baxter. Nick walked in and plopped in his chair.

  Wayne looked up and smiled. “Are we a little tired?”

  Nick grinned back. “No. We’re a lot tired. I say we work ‘til seven and call it a night.”

  Jen smiled, “No argument from me. John thinks I deserted him!” She immediately regretted saying that. She hoped it didn’t make Nick think of his mom. If it did, he didn’t show it and Jen relaxed. She was going to have to be more careful.

  Nick asked Wayne, “How many suspicious transactions have you found on Baxter?”

  Wayne walked over with a fistful of papers. “You’re going to love this. Ten 50 thousand dollar deposits this year, followed by cash withdrawals of 25 grand each time. Each deposit was by check and each person that wrote him a check had a spouse meeting an untimely death shortly after.”

  Nick sat back, “Every one of them?”

  Jen smiled, “Every one of them.”

  * * *

  Joseph helped Momma set up the crock pots on a table, and Momma, Artie, Mitch and Eli all began to serve the meatball sandwiches. Suddenly a blood curdling scream filled the air and Joseph took off running into the tunnel. Momma, Artie, Mitch and Eli followed at a distance. A crowd of people were standing around a blue cooler. One of the men in the crowd began praying. Several people cried and crossed themselves.

  Joseph looked at Sirus Corn who was holding the lid of the cooler and shaking.

  Joseph grabbed Sirus’ shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

  Sirus pointed to the cooler. “I found it in a dumpster, I swear. That’s a head. A frozen head.”

  Joseph bent down to get a closer look. Artie leaned in close, too. Momma, Eli and Mitch backed up.

  Joseph looked at Artie. “I don’t know what to do. We don’t want police down here.”

  Artie took the lid from Sirus and pressed it tight on the cooler. “Might I suggest that I properly dispose of this without involving the community?”

  Joseph stood and shook Artie’s hand. “We would be forever grateful.”

  Artie looked at Momma, “Due to this new twist of events, I’m hopeful you will excuse me from meatball duty.” Artie hefted up the cooler for effect.

  Momma wrung her hands. “Oh Lordy, what is this world comin’ to? You go do what you got to do and just make sure you lock up my shop tight when you leave.”

  Mitch and Eli watched as Artie crawled back through the tunnel entrance to Momma’s shop and disappeared with the blue cooler.

  Eli looked at Mitch, “You don’t see that every day.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Tuesday 8:00 p.m.

  Ryan quietly slipped out the door of Room 47. He double checked the lock and headed down the hall toward the exit. As he passed through the double doors to the foyer, he saw Renee unlocking a car door out front. He waited inside. As much as he wanted to breathe the fresh air outdoors, he didn’t want to answer any of Renee’s questions. He couldn’t trust himself to give the right answers. Renee was smart. She was going to be trouble.

  * * *

  Nick had called Agent Phillips and asked to meet with him at Cubby’s. The clacking of the balls on the pool table and muffled spurts of laughter had always defined Cubby’s as a safe neighborhood bar. It was perfect for cops that just wanted to relax and not be bothered. Wayne was a member of a dart team at Cubby’s. His nickname was ‘Oink’ and Nick smiled when he saw it at the top of the Darts Honor Board.

  Nick had just been served his second beer when Agent Phillips walked in. Phillips walked to the end of the bar, took a stool next to Nick and signaled a beer from the bartender. He looked around and smiled, “You’ve been coming in here since you were ten years old. Used to sit in that corner and watch your dad hustle pool after work. Then your dad started classes at the University and had Mitch’s mom hire you to work at the sandwich shop.”

  Nick smiled and glanced around to make sure they were out of earshot of anyone. “You’ve done your homework. I suspect dad came here to vent his frustration. Never drank. He used to have the bartender order him Vernor’s Ginger Ale from Michigan.” Nick pushed his beer away. “I want to thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

  “No problem. I assume you spoke t
o your dad?”

  Nick exhaled, “Yeah. Quite a story. You were right, I didn’t know.”

  Agent Phillips put a ten dollar bill on the bar and took a gulp of his beer. “What else do you want to know?”

  Nick thought for a moment. “How active is mom? Do you talk to her?”

  Agent Phillips shook his head. “I don’t know who her handler is. I never have known. All I know is she is one of our ‘ghosts’. Sophia’s invisible, master of disguise and good. Almost every piece of intel on the Westside crew has come from her.” Agent Phillips saw the pain in Nick’s eyes. “I don’t know how to contact her. There is an internal agency web site that I update with reports. Where it goes from there is above my grade level.”

  He knew he wasn’t saying what Nick needed to hear. He couldn’t. “Twenty five years is a long time. Sophia is relentlessly driven. I can’t think of anyone else that could have accomplished what she has. The scope of the case she has built for us is mind blowing.”

  Nick felt a sense of pride in what he was hearing. At the same time, his heart ached from deep wounds. Nick looked at Agent Phillips, “I don’t want to be pulled from this case. If we play this right I can cause people to make mistakes.” Nick didn’t have to wait long for a reply.

  “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

  Nick lowered his voice, “I’d like to meet with Dom. Maybe suggest he’s lost control of his crew.”

  Agent Phillips laughed, “I’d love to be there for that! Fair warning, there will be backlash. Be careful, stick to the files on your desk when you talk to Dom. We’ll take this one step at a time.”

  * * *

  Travis Cummings arrived home about seven thirty and noticed that Rosa, his cleaning lady, had managed to remove Alexia’s blood from the front door and foyer. Travis hung his coat, poured himself a scotch and walked around the quiet townhouse. It was wonderfully silent. He sat at his desk in his study and logged into his bank account. If he used his own money to cover the missing funds from Brookfield Place, he would be broke in two months. The skim was 70 grand per month. He turned in his office chair in thought. He did have a decent amount of insurance money coming from Alexia’s death, but it wasn’t safe to wait three weeks for the insurance money to come. Somehow he had to get Brookfield Place to pay up.