James Swain - The King Tides

“You’re saying you don’t have the use of your legs,” she said.

“I’m paralyzed from the waist down.”

A tiny scream escaped her lips. They all heard it, but no one acknowledged it.

She yanked away the blanket covering Butler’s waist. He wore a pair of green shorts, and his legs were visible. They were milk white and sickly thin, with no muscle hanging off the bone. She spent a long moment composing herself. “You’re under arrest for failing to register as a sexual predator and for the possession of child pornography.” She gave him his rights, reciting them from memory. When she was done, she said, “Do you have anything to say?”

“Screw you, bitch,” Butler said.

Daniels raised her arm as if to strike him. Lancaster stepped between them and escorted her out of the house and onto the front lawn. The darkness was a shield to hide behind, and she dropped her chin onto her chest and began to weep.

“It’s not them,” she said.

“I know,” he said.

“What do we do?”

“Our killers are nurses who worked in Hanover,” he said. “They have to be. There are no other suspects that could have done this. We must have missed them in the list the hospital sent you. We start over.”

“Are you going to help me?”

“Yes. We’re in this together, Beth.”

In times of defeat the simplest things often give us strength. Daniels straightened her shoulders and sucked up her rage.

“Okay. Let’s go back to your place,” she said.

They went to her rental parked at the curb. Rhoden stood on the sidewalk in his bathrobe holding his handcuffed wrists by his waist with two of the FBI agents guarding him. Rhoden stepped forward. The agents grabbed his arms and pulled him back.

“You’re Elizabeth Daniels,” Rhoden said.

It had been a night filled with surprises. Daniels cautiously approached him.

“How did you know that?” she said.

“I guess you don’t remember me. I treated you at Dartmouth-Hitchcock after those two men tried to abduct you. You were in shock and crying hysterically when you came into the ER. I stabilized you and got you calmed down. While we waited for the police to come and take your statement, I asked you if you wanted anything. You told me you were hungry, so I went to the hospital kitchen and got you a cup of chicken noodle soup and a roll. I stood next to you while you ate it. Do you remember?”

Daniels swallowed hard. “I do. You were very kind to me that night.”

“That’s why you came here, isn’t it,” Rhoden said. “Because of what happened in Hanover. You think that Jack and I had something to do with those girls’ killings.”

“Did you?”

Rhoden visibly shuddered and shook his head.

“No,” he added for emphasis.

“Do you know who did?” she asked.

“I have no idea,” Rhoden said. “A local reporter wrote a book about the killings. His theory was that a pair of cops were behind them. I think he was right.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I dealt with the cops often in the ER. A couple of them were real sick bastards. They liked to hang around and watch patients suffer.”

“Do you remember their names?”

“No. It was a long time ago.”

“What did they look like?”

“They were white, in their late twenties. One had a scar on his chin and blond hair. The other, I think it was his partner, was Italian and had a mustache.”

“That’s it?”

“Like I said, it was a long time ago.”

Daniels shot Lancaster a look that said they were done. He removed the rental’s keys from his pocket and tossed them to her, knowing that she would want to drive. She pressed the unlock button on the keys, and the rental’s doors popped open.

“Wait.” Rhoden lowered his voice. “We’re obviously not the men you’re looking for. Can’t you show some pity, and let us go?”

“Not happening,” Daniels said.

“But I helped you,” Rhoden said, his voice trembling. “I didn’t have to buy you that cup of soup, or show you compassion, but I did. You were more than just a patient to me, Elizabeth. You were a terrified young woman, and I went out of my way to help you. Doesn’t that count for something?”

Daniels looked ready to explode. “I saw a laptop in your living room. A video of an underage girl having sex with a man was playing on it. Was that your laptop?”

Rhoden nodded. He did not act the least bit ashamed.

“Did you download that video to your laptop?” she asked.

Again, Rhoden nodded.

“Then you’re going to prison,” she said.

“But it’s just a video,” he protested. “It’s not like Jack and I are molesting young girls. We know that’s wrong, so we watch videos to keep our fantasies in check, just like men who watch S&M and bondage videos. Can’t you see the difference?”

“I do see the difference,” she said. “No young girl willingly has sex with a strange man twice her age. She’s either drugged or is being held against her will. She’s a slave and has no say in the matter. If it weren’t for people like you downloading those videos, they wouldn’t exist, and that young girl wouldn’t be exploited. That’s the difference.”

“You’re not going to help me,” Rhoden said, sounding defeated.

“On the contrary. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you never get out of prison. That goes for your friend Jack too.”

“But we’re invalids.”

“Tough shit.”

The monster lurking just below the surface showed its ugly head, and Rhoden lunged at her. Lancaster stepped between them and put him on the sidewalk. Rhoden grabbed his hip and howled in pain.

“You broke my leg,” he said.

“It was nice catching up,” Daniels said.

Every agent of the law wore two faces. There was the face that they wore in public while performing their job, and there was the face they wore in private when no one was looking. Daniels drove out of the Oakland Park neighborhood and headed south to where Lancaster lived. They came to an intersection with a RaceTrac service station on the corner, and she pulled in and parked. Lancaster assumed she was going to use the john or buy a drink, and was surprised when she placed her head on the wheel and shut her eyes.

“Do you mind?” she asked.

He went inside and got two large coffees and an assortment of doughnuts. The store was quiet, and he killed a few minutes chatting with the manager about the flooding and did he think it would end anytime soon? He returned to the car to find Daniels wiping her cheeks with her palms. Both of her eyes were bloodshot. He placed the coffees in the holders on the dash and opened the bag and offered her a doughnut.

“No, thanks, I’m not hungry,” she said.

“Eat one anyway. It’ll make you feel better,” he said.

She chose a chocolate-covered doughnut and took a giant bite out of it. The sweetness brought a tiny smile to her lips, and she washed it down with coffee.

“Do you know how many times this has happened to me?” she asked. “So many that I’ve lost count. Every time I think I’ve found these bastards, the rug gets pulled out from under me. It’s like God’s punishing me, and I have no idea why.”

“It’s eating you alive, isn’t it?” he said.

She finished her doughnut and pulled another out of the bag. “These are delicious.”

“Have you thought about asking for a reassignment? I’m sure your superiors would say yes, considering how long this has been going on.”

“I’ve thought about it plenty of times,” she said. “But then a new envelope of photographs gets dropped on my desk and there are new leads to run down. I’m so immersed in the case that it would be impossible to bring another agent up to speed and expect they’d be able to put all the pieces together. Do you think I’m a bad person?”