Chapter 62: What Happened?

Allison

I was standing by the "Hotdog-on-a-Stick" in the food court, when someone yelled fight. Everyone rushed the door but they were just crowding around trying to see; no one was going outside. Knowing Jimmy was outside I forced my way to the front to see if he was okay. I saw him punching a boy and I was starting to push the door open when the guard grabbed my arm.

"Whoa there, young lady, you don't need to get any closer."

I whirled and screamed, "That's my brother!" I could see the shock on his face as I tore my arm from his grip and hit the panic bar on the door. By the time I got through the breezeway it was almost over. Actually it was over, should have been over; the boy was kneeling on the ground screaming and cradling his arm. I knew I had missed something while I was getting free of the guard. Jimmy was standing over him and I saw him step back into a fighting stance again. What is he doing? Oh my God! He'll kill him.

I screamed, "Jimmy, NO!"

He turned as if in slow motion and the look on his face almost stopped me in my tracks. I'd never, ever, seen that look before; and I never want to see it again. It was... indescribable. It wasn't anger, or fear, or anything I could point to. The eyes were the worst; they were... empty somehow. It was like staring into two dark holes in his head.

On one of our family vacations we went to the big museum in Denver. It was amazing. They had all sorts of displays and exhibits. A lot of their stuff was done in life size recreations, dioramas, only in life size. They had one of a group of cavemen with spears trying to bring down a wooly mammoth. It was all so lifelike you just expected them to start carving it into steaks right before your eyes. The one thing that stood out and said, "This isn't real," had been the eyes. The expressions were good, the fear and rage of the mammoth at being attacked. The fear mixed with desire on the faces of the cavemen stopped at the eyes. There was something missing, some spark that they just couldn't capture using artificial materials. For all their being focused and determined on their prey, their expressions were still somehow blank. Seeing that look in Jimmy's eyes confirmed my worst fear. He was going to kill that boy.

We've all heard the expression of your blood running cold and we think we know what someone means when they say it. I always thought I understood it. Well, I was wrong. I think most people are wrong. Ever since that night I can tell when someone knows and when they are just saying it. It's a feeling I'll never forget. It was like being in the shower and suddenly the water goes from hot to ice cold. Not the gradual change as the hot water runs out, more like they suddenly switched the water line and the new one came straight from the refrigerator.

You know how if someone flushes the toilet when you're in the shower and the water suddenly changes temperature? How your heart kind of jumps and you catch your breath at that first rush of cold? This was like that only a thousand times worse. Suddenly my chest was so tight I could hardly breathe and my heart seemed to hammer against the sudden constraint. Time seemed to slow down and I could hear each individual beat echo through my head. My muscles seemed to not want to work and I felt myself slow. But I couldn't slow down, I had to get there, I had to reach him, to stop him before it was too late.

Then suddenly, inexplicably, he just wilted. I saw a brief flare of what seemed like recognition in his eyes and he just fell to the ground like his bones had evaporated. Suddenly I could breathe again. Time sped up and I could hear the guard's feet pounding on the pavement behind me. As we cleared the last line of cars and the rest of the scene came into view, four bodies were scattered across the ground.

"Holy shit!" he said and I heard him key is radio. "Dispatch this is mall two, I need an ambulance and paramedics code 3, better make that two ambulances, I've got three down and one more that might as well be. And send me some crowd control; I got a hundred kids trying to make it out the doors already."

I went to my knees and cradled Jimmy's head but there was no response. I could feel the tears starting and shoved them back down, hard. I didn't have time for tears. I felt his neck and his pulse was strong and steady, my cheek against his confirmed that he was breathing okay. I laid his head carefully on the ground, checked him over quickly for any signs of damage. There was no blood or other obvious injury. What was wrong? I shook him gently. "Jimmy. Jimmy, wake up; it's me; it's Allison." I kissed him but it was like kissing my arm, there was nothing there but flesh.

Fishing in his pocket I got out his cell phone and turned it on to call home. I felt the tears trying to break free again as I waited for it to finish powering up. Since it was only used for outgoing calls he left it off most of the time. When the recorder picked up I realized my parents weren't at home. Moisture clouded my vision as I broke the connection and dialed my mother's cell phone. I wiped at my eyes but I could still hear the tears trying to break into my voice when my mom finally answered the phone.

"Mom? Mom, we're at the mall and Jimmy's hurt! He went out to put some stuff in the car and three boys jumped him. Security called for an ambulance but it's not here yet and I don't know what to do. He doesn't look hurt but he's unconscious... Mommy I'm scared... I..."

She interrupted in a firm voice, "Allison! Allison, listen to me. You need to calm down. You need to focus. Do you have a coat or sweater or anything in the car?"

"I just have the sweatshirt I brought for the movie because the theater is always cold."

"Are you wearing anything under it?"

"Mother! Of course I'm wearing something under it."

"Good. Take it off and try to spread it over him as best you can. But don't move him, you don't know if he has back or neck damage."

"No, he was up when I first saw him, but then he just sort of collapsed. He seemed to be moving fine up to then."

"Okay, dear, then cover him with your sweatshirt and find something to put under his feet."

"His feet?"

"Yes, his feet; elevating his feet will increase the blood supply to the brain. Did he hit his head when he fell?"

"I don't know. There no blood or anything," I felt his head carefully and felt what would later be bumps on his forehead just beginning to form. "There is swelling on his forehead and it's red but there are no cuts or anything. Mom, why won't he wake up?" I could feel panic starting to sneak up on me.

"Allison! Allison, you have to focus, hang up the phone and do what I told you. Is anyone else hurt?"

"Yes, there are three other boys. Two of them are unconscious and one looks like his arm is broken."

"Really? Well, try and help out as best you can until the ambulance gets there. Do what the security people tell you; we're on our way. Your father is tracking down the manager, as soon as we pay for dinner we'll be on the way. If the ambulance gets there first call me back and let us know where they are taking him. He'll be alright, sweetie."

"Okay, Mom. I'll try, but I'm scared."

"Of course you are, dear. I'm hanging up; we're on our way."

I put the phone away, pulled my sweatshirt off and started tucking it over Jimmy as best I could. I suddenly realized how big he had gotten. The shirt lay on his body like I had tossed it on a couch. I wished then that I had brought one that zipped up so I could open it and cover more of him, but I really hate those; no matter how careful you are, after a couple months they started bunching up around the zipper as the material stretched, then they just wouldn't lay flat no matter what you did and they looked dorky. I fished his keys out of his pocket and opened the trunk. We have these really neat roadside blankets that my mom found a while back. They are designed to let you change tires and stuff on the side of the road without your clothes getting trashed. They are lightly padded to protect you from road grit, have a heavy mylar pad on the bottom but are soft cloth on top, and roll up into a neat little bundle about six inches high and maybe a foot long. The only drawback is the size, they may call it a blanket but only if you're covering a baby. They're only about three feet across when you open them up.

When I opened the trunk the first thing I saw was the gifts we had just purchased for Shannon, and I felt the tears suddenly trying to fight their way to the surface again. These were the reason he was out here in the first place. I stepped on the tears again and forced them back out of the way. Mom was right, I needed to focus, I needed to help; I could break down later, but right now I had work to do. I grabbed the blanket, closed the trunk and turned back to the task at hand.

I tucked the blanket under Jimmy's feet like Mom said, and checked to make sure he was breathing okay. Suddenly he looked like he was asleep on the couch in the living room; peaceful and cute, just taking a nap with not a care in the world and the tears welled up again.

"Dammit, Allison Ann," I told myself. "You are almost fourteen fucking years old! Knock this shit off and get to it."

I turned to the security guard to ask if there was something more I could do and discovered that others had arrived while I wasn't paying attention. There were two officers stringing barrier tape across the aisle between two cars to keep people back, a third was now talking to the one that had arrived first.

The only boy still conscious was on his knees, body rocking slowly forward and back, cradling his right arm like it was his new puppy and it had died. Tears leaked from his closed eyes and he just kept repeating, "It hurts; oh god, it hurts," in a low whispery voice. If anyone here was in shock, it was him.

"Excuse me," I said. The new guard looked up as if noticing me for the first time. "Is there something I can do to help?"

"You know him?" the new officer asked, indicating Jimmy.

"Yes, officer," I followed Jimmy's lead and read his name tag, "Simpson, he's my brother; his name is..."

"Edward. We met at Christmas. Do you have any idea what happened here?"

"No sir, not really. He came out to put some things in the trunk, then we were going to go to a movie. I was waiting inside and someone yelled fight and I ran because I knew he was outside, and I yelled, and he just fell, and now..." There was no stopping the tears any longer. I just stood there and cried. I don't know why but I reached out and hugged him and cried against his chest.

He was obviously shocked at first but then the parent genes kicked in and he put his arms around me and began stroking my hair. I started to pull away after a few seconds and he let me.

"I'm sorry," I said, wiping my eyes. "I didn't mean..."

He cut me off, saying, "It's okay, sweetie. It's just a shirt; tears won't hurt it. And don't be ashamed of crying, there's nothing wrong with it. Why don't you just go stay with him until the ambulance gets here and they can check him out? Just check his pulse now and then and let me know if it changes or if his skin starts to feel clammy."

It was only about a minute longer before the paramedics showed up. There's a fire station just a couple blocks from the mall so they got there first. The one boy was still rocking in place clutching his arm, but the tears had stopped and he was quiet now. One of the paramedics threw a blanket to the security guard and told him to wrap him in it and they would get to him as soon as they could. Then they moved to the other two and started checking them out. The one by the car was a bloody mess and still unconscious, there was a huge dent in the back door of the van above him. The paramedic tried to get one of the guards to hold a bandage to the large cut on the boy's forehead but they were starting to have problems keeping the crowd back.

"I can do it," I said.

"Thank you. The cut's not that bad but I need to get the bleeding stopped long enough to dress it. How's he doing?" he pointed with his chin at Jimmy as he asked.

"His pulse is steady and he doesn't seem to be getting cold. But he's not bleeding or anything so I guess that's a good sign." I moved over and started to take over holding the large gauze pad.

"Uh-uh. First grab a pair of gloves out of that box. They're too big for you but put them on anyway.

I pulled two of the latex gloves from the box and put them on, they were huge on my little hands but this wasn't a fashion show. When I had them on I moved again to take over and this time he let me. "Steady pressure, right?" I asked.

"You got it; a little harder... that's it. You see what happened?"

"No, I think they jumped my brother."

"Is he your brother?" He looked over at the boy rocking on his knees.

"No, that's my brother." I indicated Jimmy.

"Then who did all this? Usually it's the last one standing who won, and since he's still conscious..."

"Jimmy was standing when I came out; he collapsed as I was crossing the parking lot; the other two were already down before I got here."

"He did all this? Damn! He's good. What belt is he?"

"I'm sorry?"

"What belt? You know, karate, tae qwon do? He's gotta be at least a high brown to have trashed three guys twice his size?"

"I don't know what you mean; Jimmy's never taken any karate lessons or anything like that."

"Let me see that cut." I pulled up the gauze and he checked the wound. "Good." He tore the top off a new gauze pack and held it out to me. "Take this one and hold it steady so I can tape it. You're kidding right? This looks like a scene from an old Bruce Lee movie. He doesn't practice?"

"No, I don't even remember the last time he was in a fight."

He shook his head. "Okay, that's got it, there's a stack of blankets in the top compartment on the passenger side, right behind the cab, why don't you grab three or four. Don't move his head, just pack one close on either side, then roll one up and put it under his feet, spread another one over the top of him. I'm going to check on your brother. You said his name is Jimmy?"

"Yes sir," I answered, moving to the truck trying to figure out the latch on the door.

"The ring pulls up; turn it counter-clockwise to open. How you doing over there, Dave?" he called to his partner.

I pulled out a stack of blankets and closed the compartment again. They were what we used to call army blankets, thin but very heavy. They were folded down to about twelve by eighteen. I folded one again and stuck it under the boy's feet then spread another over him. One more on either side of his head and I moved back to wait for further instructions.

"This your sweatshirt... I'm sorry, what's your name, sweetie?"

"Allison Matthews."

"Nice to meet you, Allison, I'm Bobby Robbins and that's my partner, Dave Wright, over there, could you bring me a couple more of those blankets?"

Dave called over, "Nice to meet you, Allison, this one's looks like he's got a couple broken ribs, chief. BP and pulse are good but his breathing is real shallow. He's in and out of consciousness, moves his head around when he starts to wake up so at least that works. Going to hurt like hell when he wakes up."

"Watch you language."

"Sorry sir, miss."

It didn't bother me but I wasn't sure if I should say so, so I just nodded and handed him a couple blankets. Across the parking lot I could see the flashing lights of two ambulances coming our way, further back I could see another set of lights reflected off of a wall and knew that a third was on the way.

Bobby and Dave moved to the boy on his knees, he acted like he didn't see them at all, still rocking gently, cradling his arm and staring blindly forward. They knelt down on either side and Bobby started checking his eyes with a flashlight and talking to him, "How you doing? You doing all right?" he asked, then said to Dave, "Pupils are fixed and dilated; he seems to be in serious shock; I don't think he even knows we're here; let's see if you can get that arm free, find out what's going on."

The boy was still clutching the arm tightly and Dave had to pry the fingers loose from the upper arm. When he did the arm swung free and they could see what they were dealing with.

"Holy Jesus!" Bobby exclaimed.

The arm appeared whole but the elbow was completely collapsed and the lower half bent the wrong way. The swelling seemed to be the only thing keeping it from flopping around. Pulling it free caused it to move; when it did the boy screamed in pain and then his eyes rolled up and he melted to the pavement.

They laid him out on the ground just as the first two ambulances pulled up and started pulling out gurneys. Dave was taking the boy's blood pressure, from the other arm, as Bobby started shouting instructions.

"That one's got chest damage but no apparent head or neck trauma, the one by the van and the other one are going to need boards just in case. I need a short board for this arm; I don't want to risk a splint until they can x-ray. We'll just immobilize and let the ER deal with it. Allison, is someone coming for you?"

I called my mom again and they were stuck behind an accident and still too far away. I told him so.

"Ask your mom if it's okay to ride in with us."

I did and gave him the answer, "She said yes."

He keyed his mike and started talking, "Dispatch, this is EM seven. We're about done here. We'll be ten-nineteen to Arrowhead Regional assisting with transport, please note we will be transporting a female minor to the ER. Her parents will meet us there. Copy?"

"Ten four, EM-7; what's your ETA to Arrowhead?"

He pointed to Jimmy and snapped his fingers twice; the driver helping Jimmy glanced up and said, "Twenty."

"Twenty minutes, Dispatch."

"Ten-four."

Within a few minutes they had everyone loaded. The third ambulance took the two who had been unconscious all along. I wanted to ride with Jimmy but they wouldn't let me. Dave walked me to their truck and had me get in while he checked to make sure everything was secure. When we got to the emergency room he waited with me while Bobby gave the doctors all of their information. I gave one of the nurses all of Jimmy's information, when I told her he had a medical card in his wallet they cut the side of the pocket out so they could get it without moving him. They handed it to me and I found his card. Then they were gone down the hall. Bobby waited with me until Mom and Dad showed up. Dave mumbled something about "It's good to be the king" when Bobby sent him outside to re-pack the truck. I was doing okay until Dad came in and then I lost it again. I hugged him and cried as he shook hands with Bobby.

"Thank you for watching out for her," he said as he shook Bobby's hand.

"No problem at all, sir. She was a big help. I hope your boy's okay."

I turned and shook Bobby's hand, and thanked him for everything he had done and he left. I made a mental note to call him or send him a thank you so he would know how everything turned out. After that they wouldn't tell us anything about the others. Jimmy had them puzzled. He didn't appear to be seriously injured, no sign of concussion or other head trauma, but they couldn't bring him around either. Eventually they moved him to a room and then all we could do was wait.

I stayed with him in the room as much as possible. Someone tried to make me leave after visiting hours were over but I told them flatly that I wasn't leaving. Mom looked at Dad, and Dad asked who he needed to talk to for me to stay. A sweet little grandma looking lady named Wendy came in and laid down the law about what was expected of me if I stayed and made it clear that if I did not hold up my end she would personally come back and drag me out, by the ear if necessary. Mom asked if I wanted a book to read. I ask her to bring me "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe." I figured if it was good enough for Amy it was good enough for Jimmy. I read it out loud, concentrating on the words to keep the tears out of my voice.

When I fell asleep I went to the glade and tried calling him, but he didn't answer. I sat on the blanket under the tree and cried until I woke up. Then I picked the story up where I left off and started all over again. When the nurses came in I took advantage of the time to go to the bathroom and stretch my legs while they did their work. At the very first opportunity I called Rebecca to let her know what had happened. It was still early on Saturday so he hadn't missed their appointment yet, but I thought she deserved to know so she wouldn't be expecting him.

I gave her all the information I could before hanging up on her.

Rebecca

There's nothing quite as effective as making plans to insure that something will happen at work. It's a universal constant. I have acquaintances in sales for instance; you want to get a customer to come in unexpectedly, order something hot for lunch. Or just pour yourself a nice hot cup of coffee.

Bob had a big evening planned. How big? Pretty big. He told me to buy a new dress, preferably black. I took a half day off just to make sure I would be ready. Time off isn't usually my problem. I have enough accrued vacation and sick leave that HR complains about it, frequently. I do it on purpose. One day my sister is going to wake up and she's going to need someone to be with her and help her acclimate to the twenty-first century. I plan to be that someone.

Bob had said to be ready no later than six. I was ready and waiting, nervous as hell, at quarter of six. I paced, I thumbed through a magazine, I checked my watch, I paced some more, I checked the headlines in the paper, I checked my watch again.

Promptly at six there was a knock at the door. I yanked the door open and said, "It's about ti..." It wasn't Bob. Okay, technically it was a 'Bob', just not the Bob I had been expecting.

"I apologize if I am late, Miss Hampton. My name is Robert and it is my privilege to be your driver for tonight."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Robert, just let me get my coat and purse."

I grabbed my things and we headed out the door. The downside to being with the bureau is that you really can't just 'go out.' I have to carry my ID with me everywhere and I'm usually armed. It's so hard to find a sexy dress that will hide my Glock.

The Sig Sauer P-230 is my weapon of choice for formal occasions. At just over six and a half inches it fits easily in a small handbag as long as you don't have to carry more than a driver's license and maybe a lipstick with it. My ID fit comfortably. I carry the .38 caliber model. It holds six rounds in the magazine. You can have seven if you're crazy enough to run around with one in the chamber. I've never found it necessary, besides, nothing gets someone's attention and say's "this bitch is serious" quite like the sound of the slide cocking the hammer back right before you point it between their eyes. The .32 will allow you one extra round but I've found that anything smaller that the .38 runs the risk of pissing someone off when you shoot them rather than actually stopping them. It only weighs eighteen ounces so you don't even really notice the weight. A purse with a heavy enough liner will even disguise the shape. If you're going to carry something like this in a small clutch I suggest having a really heavy and well attached shoulder strap. If you do that it doubles as one hell of a blackjack.

My second choice was the Walther PPK. It's a fraction shorter, weighs about 4 ounces more, which gives it a more solid feel in your hand. I considered it for about two and half seconds. I like the gun, don't get me wrong. It's a nice weapon, but I have enough trouble with people who think working for the FBI makes me a spy. I am not carrying James Bond's gun.

I kept a locking steel travel case by the door. I keep my tactical gear inside along with my main gun and ammunition when I'm traveling. Its other home was my trunk. Trust me, when it comes to being prepared, the boy scouts have nothing on the FBI. After the episode at the bank I made myself a promise to never be unarmed again. The rest is just in case. I could have gotten away with a slightly smaller case but I added some tennis shoes, socks and a rolled up jumpsuit as well. I didn't want to be caught in a bad situation wearing heels. Besides that you just lose so much credibility with the bad guys when you're standing there pointing a gun at them and flashing them your panties at the same time because your dress blew up in a sudden gust from a passing bus.

Robert reached to take the case and I handed him the wrap that went with the dress instead. When we got to the car I asked him to open the trunk. Once the case was stowed I also asked him to show me exactly where the inside release was just so I would know. To his credit he never asked about it.

Bob was standing by the door looking very dapper in his black suit and tie. God that man is handsome. And the way he looked at me just made me want to drag him back inside and bar all the doors.

Dinner was fabulous; I was going to need some serious time at the gym. The cheesecake alone was going to take hours to burn off. The next stop was the Shubert Theatre downtown. I'd been there on occasion for various security details I had been assigned to but it looked completely different from a patron's point of view. We had a glass of wine while we waited for the show to start. The evening was looking like it would turn out to be everything I had hoped for. I should have known better.

The best I can do is turn my phone way down or set it to vibrate. It's never off unless I'm in a situation that it may blow cover and then I have an earpiece and am connected to the team anyway. The lights flickered, signally a five minute call to curtain and like clockwork my phone went off. I had left strict instructions that unless it was a real emergency someone would bleed if we were disturbed. I had even asked Jimmy not to drop in tonight after hours.

I flipped the phone open and Paul's number was on the caller ID. Shit. This was bad. I'd expect Rod to call me on a date before Paul and Selena would kill him for it.

"Hampton."

"Celeste Boudreax is dead." No pleasantries just cut right to the chase. The boy does have potential. If he'd tried making polite overtures I would have chewed him out. This definitely qualified as a good enough reason to call.

The crowd was thinning and I could see two ushers converging on me. Cell phones and theatre don't mix. I started fishing in my purse for my ID with my free hand.

"Where and when?"

"San Diego, about two hours ago."

"How'd you hear about it?"

"A fluke. I added all the girls to a watch program. Monitoring caught the name on a police scanner and flagged the recording. Simmons called me."

"What do we know? Was it our boy?"

"No idea. I tried calling but they won't talk. Not on the phone. They want to see ID and they want to know why we're interested."

The ushers arrived and one of them started to interrupt, "I'm sorry, miss, but I'll have to ask..."

I flashed my ID and he shut up. His eyes got wide and he swallowed hard when he read it. Bob stepped in and distracted them.

"Thank you, gentlemen. Any other time I would stand and applaud your efforts. Could one of you please get the manager for me? And I don't have my phone on me so if you could please call this number for me and tell my driver that something has come up and I need him immediately. Thank you."

One took the card from Bob and they both left in a hurry.

"Okay, Paul, where are you?"

"Southbound on 110 headed for I-5."

"Good. I'm downtown and it will take a little while to get out of here but I'll be right behind you."

The manager was approaching with one of the ushers. I had expected to see the arrogant swaggering jackass in charge but instead he looked like the picture of quiet civility and service; bad girl Rebecca, weren't you just talking to Paul about not judging people by their jobs.

"Good evening, Sir, Madam. David says you for asked me, how may I assist you."

"Good evening. I'm Robert Shelby. This is Rebecca Hampton. I'm sure David told you who she is. We were very much looking forward to the show tonight but unfortunately she's been called away on a case. I was wondering if perhaps you have anybody who may be able to use our tickets. We're not looking to sell them or anything but it would be a shame to see them go to waste."

"Most generous of you, sir. As a matter of fact one our season ticket holders inquired earlier if we had seats available for some out of town guests. They have been waiting just in case something should come available."

"Please give them our seats with my compliments."

"I would not think of it, sir. I insist you be compensated for them. These are very nice seats."

"Yes, but we will not be using them either way. Really, I see no point..."

"Please, sir. It is not as if you changed your mind. But if that is your desire, I am sure our guests will be most grateful for your generosity. May I have your name and address in case they wish to send a card?"