M McDonald - March Into Hell

Scott held up a hand. "Hold on, let me ask you something. Why don't you just stop using this camera?" He spread his hands wide. "All your problems would be solved."

Mark shook his head. "I…I tried doing that several times, but I can't. It's like a drug." He tried to run a hand through his hair, but the tape got caught, and he glared at it before letting his hand drop to his side. "I can't sleep, I have crazy dreams, and it just won't let me alone. It's become worse since I started using it after I got out of prison. It's as though it's trying to make up for lost time. Almost every day, I have to use it, or I'd never get any sleep."

Despite his skepticism, Scott was intrigued with how detailed Mark’s story about the camera had become. In what he felt was a stroke of genius, Scott decided to change tact and use Mark’s delusion to actually try and help him get past this feeling of shame. “Hmmm…how do you view victims that you save? Do you feel like they should be embarrassed because of what has happened to them?”

Mark shot him a look. “I know what you’re getting at, but it’s not the same. I have all this baggage already.” He fell silent for a moment and appeared to be watching the crowd out front. Pointing vaguely towards the gathering, Mark spoke, his tone bitter, “Look at them, Doc. They think I’m some kind of…of savior…or something.” He shook his head. “And you think I’m a nut.”

Sighing, he turned to face Scott. “But I’m neither of those things. I’m just a guy. Just a regular guy.”

“Hey, Jessie, I got a possible lead on Kern’s whereabouts.” Dan strode into their office, tossing his overcoat onto the coat tree as he passed.

Jessie glanced up from a report she had been skimming. “Really?" She closed the folder and leaned back in her chair, following Dan with her eyes as he settled at his desk. “Where is he and how did you get the info?”

“It's actually a lead on Medea, but I'm hoping where she is, he can't be far away. A CTA bus driver called in a tip. He saw her on his bus this morning, and he noted where she got off. It was the 5000 block of West Jackson Boulevard."

"That corresponds to something I discovered."

Dan tilted his head. "You discovered?"

Jessie felt her face heat. "Okay, I get it, I'm off the case, but that doesn't mean I can't analyze the information that's here already." She waved a hand over the pile of files in her out box. "All I have to keep me busy is some scut work on old cases."

She saw a softening of his expression and pressed on, "One thing in Mark's favor is the public interest in this. The phone’s been ringing off the hook with tips. I know I’m not on the case officially, but there’s a stack of tips received since last night sitting on your desk. I took about the last ten of them.” Jessie pointed to the pile of notes. It was a small thing, but at least it helped her feel like she was doing something to help.

Dan leaned forward and sorted through the papers. “Hmmm…some of this looks worthless, but there’s a few that might pan out.”

"What's this about Mexico?"

"I'll get to that. I took some notes on some of the more promising ones and that one was the prime tip.” Jessie opened her desk drawer and pulled out a large notepad.

“Whoa, hold on a second. You took notes on my case? What else did you do? Call up the tipsters?”

Jessie set the pad on the top of her desk and shot a look at Dan. “As a matter of fact, I did. Is that a problem?”

Sighing, Dan rubbed his eyes. “No. It’s fine.” He made a 'give me' motion with his hand. “Let me see what you have.”

Jessie tapped her pencil on her desk as he read over her notes. She knew this should have been a case like any other, but she was sure she was only kidding herself. In her mind, she could picture going to tell Mark that they had caught the bastard.

He chuckled and shook his head. "I won't be able to keep you off this short of changing partners, will I?"

"Probably not." She scooted closer to the desk and pointed to some of her notes on the pad. "I may have traced a bank account to Kern."

"Really?"

"Yes. Medea put some information on her job application for the job that Mark had offered her. Not much, just an address that didn't show up in her school or driver's license records, but it matched the address on a check used to pay her last semester of school and one for her hospital bill. I thought it might have been the place the cult lived before moving to the current one-which now appears abandoned, by the way."

"What makes you say that?"

"I checked the patrol officer's notes. Nobody in or out for three days."

"They could have just gone to ground for a little while."

She shook her head. "I don't think so. Medea was spotted in a neighborhood that's not far from the bank I found and that's miles from that house. There are only three branches in the city, and one is right on West Jackson. The address on the check is for a home in Oak Park."

"And they aren't at that address? "

She shook her head. "I wish, but no, they aren't. The tenants of the house have been there six months and they all checked out. However, I found out the landlord owns properties all over the city. One is the abandoned house, and he has more buildings in the area of the 5000 block of West Jackson. There's more, but with your tip that Medea was spotted in that area, I'd be willing to bet Kern stuck to his pattern of using this landlord. Less red tape."

"That makes sense." Dan flipped the pencil in his fingers, letting the eraser end repeatedly hit the desk top, his expression distant. He was processing the information. Jessie wanted to sigh with relief. He was allowing her to share. She'd been afraid he wouldn't listen since she wasn't supposed to be investigating.

"In addition, the account had a major withdrawal two days ago."

“How much?”

Jessie sank back into her seat. “Enough to live like royalty south of the border.”

Dan nodded. “Good work, Jess. If we can get a confirmed sighting of him in Mexico, we can start the paperwork for extradition. I’ll rest easier when this guy’s locked up for a very long time.” His phone rang and he grabbed it, tucking it against his shoulder and ear. “Detective Dan Miller.”

“Thanks.” Jessie felt some satisfaction, but until the guy was safely behind bars, she wouldn’t be completely happy. She thought of how Mark had reacted to her hospital visit and how traumatized he had been. She could hardly contain her anger at Kern.

Nobody should have to go through what Mark had gone through. Especially not after all he'd already endured. But he was incredibly strong, she reminded herself. He'd already proven that. He would work this out on his own.

The thought of Mark going back to the loft alone sent a shiver through her. The last thing Mark would want is pity, especially from her.

She pushed the thought from her mind and tried to focus on her paperwork. Now was not the time to be wondering about Mark Taylor.

“Damn.”

Jessie looked up at Dan’s sharp tone. She had a feeling that something was up from the set of his mouth and the anger in his eyes. He looked at her and she just knew it had something to do with Mark.

“I’ll be right there. In the meantime, call in all your off-duty security guards if you haven’t already.” He hung up and cursed again, then rose and grabbed his coat, shooting a look at Jessie as he shrugged into it. “You want to help me do some crowd control?”

Mark finished buttoning his shirt, fumbling with the top button. With one arm in a sling and the other with only a partially working hand made routine tasks frustrating. Still, wearing something other than a hospital gown felt wonderful. He had read somewhere that patients only absorbed about twenty percent of what a doctor told them. Mark shook his head ruefully. Now he believed it. It was hard to focus on what a fully-dressed doctor was saying while he, the patient, sat in a silly looking gown that left his backside bare.