Published on May 4, 2010

Fox & Hound: Part Eleven

The last thing Monica, an Afro-American woman, wanted was a last night pub crawl with people she hardly knew until she was introduced to Scott, a tall, devilishly stunning man. As the night quickly progressed they find themselves exploring their sexual limits....

Fox and Hound: Part Eleven

Kevin called for an officer to escort Anna to the police station while he and Scott and Monica raced to the hospital. There wasn’t a clear sequence of events but from what Kevin pieced together Anthony went to the office looking for Anna, by now he’d figured out a way past the security guards. Once upstairs, he ran into Willow in the hall…she didn’t know who he was but their brief interaction left her terrified. She went to the elevator and pressed the button, signaling a ‘ding’ just in case he was listening…she then ran down a flight of stairs and alerted a security guard who then called for backup and the police.

Willow couldn’t wait, she had to help Sharon. Against the security guard’s orders she ran back upstairs. The office door was open and Anthony, beaten and bloodied, stood kicking Sharon in the stomach. Willow jumped him from behind and tore at his already blackened eyes, giving Sharon enough time to catch her breath. Anthony flung Willow off and delivered a blow to her face.

Anthony must’ve heard the security guards approaching because he took his eyes off of the ladies…they rallied and jumped his ass. It took all five guards to pull them off of him.

Most of the damage Sharon suffered was a result of being kicked: Two broken ribs and a bruised kidney while Willow walked away with a broken jaw, both suffered several lacerations which they compared carefully at the hospital. Sharon couldn’t breathe much less laugh but she tried to keep her spirits high for Willow’s sake. But, by the time Grant and Mr. Fitz arrived, the pain medication had given up the ghost and she was in agony.

Something snapped when Grant saw Sharon lying in the hospital bed. The doctors warned him of the state he’d find her in; however, when he rounded the corner to her room, she wasn’t as battered as he imagined. Her left cheek was bruised and swollen as was her eye and lip. The black and blue marks were so numerous that his beautiful fiancé vaguely resembled a Dalmatian, or at least that was her assertion. The bruising was superficial compared to the broken ribs and soreness which plagued her entire body.

“Where is Mr. Fitz?” Sharon strained to ask Grant when he sat at her bedside.

“He’s outside on the phone with my mother. She’ll be here shortly. My father is out of the country.” He surveyed her face. “How are you feeling?” he asked Sharon, which caused her to roll her eyes. “That bad, huh?”

Again she rolled her eyes and asked, “Willow. Did you see Willow?”

“I’m having her moved next door so we can keep an eye on the both of you.”

“Thank you,” she cringed. “Babe, it hurts so badly.”

His heart broke, he wanted to touch her but the doctors advised against it. “I know it does.”

“We kicked his ass,” Sharon gave a weak smile.

Grant laughed. “Yes, you did. I don’t think he’ll ever touch another woman again.” His laugh tapered off and he sighed sorrowfully seeing her in distress. “I love you, Sharon.”

                                                                 ******

Dr. and Mrs. Greene met Anna at the police station. Lord knows she needed their support as she gave the officers her account of Anthony’s activities and purposely droned on in hopes of seeing him in passing. She wanted to look him straight in the eye and give him a piece of her mind. She wanted him to see her resolve, she wasn’t afraid of him anymore. It was true, what Mrs. Greene once told her: You can only kick a dog for so long; eventually he’s going to bite you.

Anna couldn’t wait to show her teeth.

After being released from the hospital and being processed, Anthony arrived for questioning under heavy security. Cuffed, shackled and beaten, Anna stared straight through him as if he were a perfect stranger—given his pitiful state of emaciation he looked strange. He in no way resembled the man she’d fallen in love with and she didn’t feel an ounce of grief…not the smallest amount of guilt for what she was about to do to him. He deserved what was coming to him. He’d terrorized her and her loved ones, people she depended upon, who reached out to help her when she didn’t have a pot to piss in. The man she loved was dead and it was time to do away with the miserable wretch who’d taken his place even if it jeopardized her own freedom in the process.

                                                              ******

Joy and Mrs. Fitz met Mrs. Ellis at the airport and were en route to the hospital when Joy received a call from their office building manager requesting someone from Cara meet with them immediately; they had a few questions. Boiling with anger, Joy instructed the driver to change route and head to their office. She called and gave Kevin the change of plan seeing neither Monica nor Scott answered their phones.

Kevin found it rather unorthodox that they’d contact her when there was an ongoing police investigation; if anything, he figured they would close ranks pending an inquiry. He didn’t voice his concerns. Nonetheless, he sent one of his men to meet Joy at the building and make a detailed record of the conversation.

As soon as Mrs. Ellis stepped from the car and caught a glimpse of the name engraved on the buildings’ placard, Morton-Bedford, she understood why Joy had been called. They do act fast, don’t they? She laughed to herself. She waited for Mrs. Fitz, Joy and the officer to busy themselves with the buildings’ management, who were out in full force, and then she sneaked off to use the phone.

“Barry,” she said confidently to their family attorney. “Tell me what you know about Morton-Bedford.”

                                                                 ******

Unable to speak, Willow glanced around the room at her friends and family, some of which she hadn’t seen in months. In many ways her inability to speak was a good thing; she actually listened to her father without the dreadful need to reply and in her drug induced fog his pointless dribbling made perfect sense. Her father had a knack for pulling everyone together in times of crisis and his stories and cheerful manner was exactly what everyone needed. She heard the commotion coming from Sharon’s room when Scott, Monica and Kevin arrived and collapsed against her pillows. She smiled to herself. She may not have won Scott’s heart but she had plenty to be thankful for.

Paul, her older brother, was congratulating her on her victory when Scott came through the door. Paul introduced him to everyone while Willow flagged him down. She hastily scribbled a message on a small white board given to her by the nurse to communicate—it was one step up from using carrier pigeons but what other choice did she have. She thrust the message at Scott, it read:

“Don’t start! I’m fine. I would’ve done it for anyone. Take your guilt elsewhere.”

Scott looked up at her smiling. She fanned him away playfully and took back her board.

“Thank you,” Scott said.

“How’s Sharon?” she wrote.

“She’s hurting. Monica is with her now. How are you?”

“I’ve been better. We kicked ass!”

Scott laughed. “So, I’ve heard.” He sat on the bed facing her. “Seriously, thank you. If you hadn’t been there who knows what would’ve happened. Wait!” he perked up. “Why were you there?”

Willow sighed and flopped her limp hand back and forth and frowned which meant it was a long story, too much to write. Hopefully Sharon had come up with a believable lie because she was fresh out. Thank goodness her jaw was wired shut.

“Thanks all the same.” Scott kissed her forehead.

Her feelings for him remained but the knot of desperation which besieged her gut grew a little less intense with his kiss. She no longer pretended to see some glimmer of hope in his actions; she took them for what they were…nothing more than friendship.

And his kiss was the first step to getting on with her life.

“What I’m trying to understand is what Willow was doing in the office.” Monica said to Sharon and Grant.

Again, Sharon rolled her eyes.

“It had something to do with Dr. Greene’s retirement party,” Grant answered with the same lie Sharon had served him before her medicine kicked in. “She’s on the planning committee and stopped by the office on her way home.”

“I bet she never saw it coming.”

“Apparently not, but, like Sharon said, they kicked ass.” He grinned at Sharon who was now fast asleep.

When Joy, Mrs. Ellis and Mrs. Fitz arrived Kevin excused himself, giving the family their privacy and seeing the icy glances passed between Grant and his mother, he figured he’d get out before the screaming began. Outside, he trekked across the street to a 24 hour convenient store for nourishment. Not that a bag of chips, a Coke and a pack of Skittles were real food but under the circumstances, they’d suffice.

Objectively speaking, Kevin was fascinated by the dynamics of Anna’s circle of friends. Their backgrounds and upbringings were night and day yet they meshed seamlessly and trusted one another without reserve. And given Anna’s current state of affairs she’d rely on them more than ever. His deduction of Grant was somewhat frayed, he couldn’t get a proper read on him. He didn’t know the guy but for a man whose fiancé was brutally attacked mere hours ago, Grant seemed placid and more concerned with Sharon than plotting a murder spree.

Kevin looked at his watch, he’d gotten wrapped up in calls from the station and before he knew it nearly an hour had slipped by unnoticed. He returned to Sharon’s room to tell everyone goodnight. No surprise, save Mrs. Ellis and the Fitz who were already gone, everyone was staying the night in the hospital. He promised to call them the next day with more information and offhandedly mentioned his concern about the building manger contacting Joy.

At this, Grant’s jaw twitched.

Rightfully, Kevin decided it was neither the play nor time to discuss ‘the look’. He said his farewells and hauled his weary bones downstairs and out of the building. A shiny black Town Car pulled to the curb and stopped in front of him.

Mrs. Ellis rolled down the window. “Can I offer you a lift to your car?” she asked.

Kevin stepped closer. “No ma’am. I’m parked just over there.” He pointed to the garage.

“You’re not parked there any longer. Get in, I’ll take you to it.”

Perplexed, he wearily reached for the car door and hadn’t taken a proper seat before the driver put the car in motion. Mrs. Ellis was amiable enough, he judged. He couldn’t imagine her having any conversation far beyond afternoon tea with the girls—however, her sophisticated Cruella de Vil demeanor told him to sit back and listen.

“How’s your case coming along?” She crossed her ankles. “I assume Anthony has been questioned.”

Fox and Hound: Part Eleven

“Yes, he’s pleaded guilty to the drug related charges, trespassing, violating the restraining order and so on but the attempted murder charge—,” he rubbed his tired eyes. “We have nothing except a shaky witness statement directly linking him to the crime. We should be able to get him off the streets with the evidence we have.”

“Good for you, dear,” Mrs. Ellis gave him a ‘bless your heart’ expression and said evenly. “I’m going to give you some information that will save an enormous amount of time: The building which houses Cara is owned by Morton-Bedford. They’re a multinational conglomerate whose core business is high-end secured structures. They build banks, state houses, office buildings, not to mention their federal contracts. Their ability to command a higher asking price is based on their advanced security features and specially trained security staff. In the wake of 9/11, corporations began investing heavily in protecting their employees and information—they sought leases with Morton-Bedford or hired them to build anew. The government contracted them to reassess their installations.”

“Sorry. I’m not following you.” Kevin said. “What do they have to do with my case?”

“Morton-Bedford’s only interest is protecting their bottom line and disposing of anything which would damage it.”

“People?!” Kevin asked wide-eyed.

“No, this isn’t television.” Mrs. Ellis smacked her lips. “Something more valuable than people, at least to them that is. I’m talking about documentation, complaints, anything that could fuel negative press. How do you think their shareholders and current tenants will react to the news that Morton-Bedford, the industry standard for excellence, allowed little old Anthony from Macon Georgia with his extensive criminal record to slip through the cracks, not once, but twice? What’s going to happen when it’s time to renegotiate contracts and the bidding wars begin? The veil will be lifted and the smoke and mirror tricks won’t work. Their competitors will exploit the negative publicity and their contract lobbyists will turn their backs. Sure, they’ll stay in business but their lofty reputation will be destroyed and they’ll find the doors once opened to them are closed. And it’s all because of your tiny case here in Georgia.”

There was a sinking feeling in Kevin’s chest. He thought it best not to mention his earlier concerns.

“You know how things come up missing. You’ll build your case, gather your inculpatory evidence, compile your witness testimony and place it at the feet of the district attorney’s office. And then suddenly your witnesses stop talking or are regarded as unreliable, your concrete evidence is deemed inadmissible.” She grinned softly but her tone was cold and direct. “In essence, your case falls to pieces and a guilty man walks free. Morton-Bedford will stoop to any level to distance themselves from Anthony and these events…even if it means buying Anthony’s freedom.”

“They wouldn’t.”

“Ha!” she laughed. “You know as well as I do, they would. Why wouldn’t they? Because they’re good people or because you believe your case is rock solid? Please. You’ve been around long enough to know everyone has a price.”

Kevin leaned forward and spoke more to himself than Mrs. Ellis. “They’re cooperating with us. Why would they turnover both surveillance videos which show exactly what happened if it wasn’t in their best interest?”

“I think they’ve demonstrated their willingness to cooperate with your investigation when they contacted Joy at this hour of night for questioning with no attorney or investigator present. They’re preparing their defense—they’re going to place the blame on Sharon or Anna or even the police department but first they needed to know what information Cara’s management supplied the authorities.”

“What do you mean ‘our fault’?” Kevin all but yelled. “If their security would’ve done their job and stopped Anthony before he went upstairs none of this would’ve happened.”

Mrs. Ellis smiled to herself. Kevin was coming around just as she’d hoped. “So you say. But look at it from where they stand: The police barged into a situation their highly trained security had under control, caused an unnecessary spectacle, dragged their name through the mud, and maliciously accused a troubled man of horrific crimes all of which he is innocent.” She paused. “By the time they’re done paying people off, the only thing he’ll be guilty of is violating the restraining order and assault. And trust me, those charges will magically disappear as well. They won’t even press trespassing charges against Anthony but they will come after you and the police department. They may attempt to recoup damages.” Yes, the last bit was a low blow but her point was made.

Kevin head pounded. He’d seen these scenarios play out too many times. The long hours spent developing a strong case; the emotional toll of dealing with victims’ families; the headaches and stress only to see the case fall apart in the DAs hands. He was sick of it. “How can I guarantee a conviction?”

“You can’t. Anthony won’t make it to trial.” Mrs. Ellis said innocently. “I’m simply offering you advice: Gather your evidence and build an air-tight case against Anthony. Find as much incriminating evidence of Morton-Bedford’s negligence and wherever possible, link their faults with Anthony’s case. I’m sure you have contacts within the media, broadcasting the surveillance videos will arouse public sympathy. It’s difficult to sway public opinion once it’s tarnished and it’ll give their competition something to latch on to and they’ll fan the flames and bring the shit to the surface along with any other proof for prior cover-ups.”

He swallowed hard. “I can’t be involved in this.”

“You’re not involved. What’s done is done. Now, if all goes well Morton-Bedford will be called to the carpet and it may prevent someone else from being assaulted.” She said as they pulled into the station. “It works out for everyone: Morton-Bedford gets what they deserve, Anna is rid of Anthony, and I get my revenge. No one messes with my family and gets away with it.”

Kevin blew a long breath and gave a half cocked grin. By all appearances Mrs. Ellis was the typical WASP or so she was in his mind. Their conversation and her determination took him by surprise as there was no mistaking her meaning when she declared Anthony wouldn’t make it to trial. He never acknowledged the statement but smirked nonetheless. “You’re a cold woman, Mrs. Ellis.” He shook head. “You look so innocent.”

“Thank you,” She said cheerfully. “Experience has taught me to keep a palm branch in hand and a pit bull in my backyard. You’ll see soon enough. Your car is parked just over there,” she pointed to a small lot. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight ma’am” He exited the car and closed the door behind him. He walked into the police station rubbing his head. It was quarter after two and all he wanted to do was go home. Damn the case, damn being a model officer upholding a faulty system influenced by less than civilized individuals…damn it all. He’d seen the innocent wrongly convicted and the guilty walk free and he was tired of it. Morton-Bedford showed their true colors when they blind-sided his investigation. Now, he wouldn’t put anything past them.

After collecting his laptop, Kevin turned off his office light and was half way out of the building when he saw Anna coming toward him visibly shaken. “Anna. What are you doing here? Where are the Greenes?”

She wrestled to find her words then forced them from her lips, “They left me. I…I waited for you.”

What the hell?! Kevin thought, up until then he couldn’t come within ten feet of her without her scowling. Now, she looked as though she needed a hug. “Would you like me to drop you off at the hospital? Monica and everyone else are staying the night there.”

“No.” she looked up at his down turned face. “I tired. I wanna go to bed, please.”

“Sure…um…we’ll have to swing by my place, I need to pick up a few things…but…sure. I’ll take you home.” He guided her out of the door. His head was still throbbing from his conversation with Mrs. Ellis and now he was stuck babysitting Anna…again.

Back at the Scotts’ apartment, Kevin sat on the sofa researching Morton-Bedford while Anna showered. His contacts supplied him with more information than he could decipher in the late hour but one thing was certain, Mrs. Ellis hadn’t oversold their importance. They were giants in the industry and their reputation was stellar; however, further reading revealed there had been grievances filed pertaining to security laps, one of which came from the building in question. Conveniently, nothing came of the complaints—there was no follow-up or additional inquires made. They seemed to just go away.

The same way they’re interfering with my investigation, he grumbled as Anna came into the room dressed in a yellow night gown that made her look like Sponge Bob. The scowl on her face was a result of his inability to conceal his amusement. “Um…Monica called.” He turned away and tidied the mess of notes he’d taken. “I told her that you were in the shower—she’ll call you in the morning.”

“Cool,” Anna said switching off the kitchen lights. “I’m going to bed now. Are you coming?”

“I’ll be a while.” He stammered slightly.

“Alright, see you in a bit.” She went to her bedroom.

Kevin repacked his laptop and then headed for the shower. He couldn’t make heads or tails of Anna. One minute she couldn’t stand the sight of him and the next she was kind. No doubt this was the manifestation of her trust issues stemming from her past. Poor kid, he remarked on her age before he realized how old it made him sound at thirty seven.

Out of the shower and dressed for bed, Kevin checked the doors, grabbed a book from the bookshelf and wandered to Anna’s room. She’s a tiny thing, isn’t she?” he thought to himself as he removed the television remote control from her hand and turned it off. Fatigued, he drew the blinds and dropped down in chair across from the bed and cracked open his book. The streetlight poured in just enough to read by. He needed to relax after the day he had.

Anna sat up and looked around the room.

“Over here.” Kevin waved from the shadows.

“Sit here, please.” She pointed to the floor on the side of her bed.

What?! This night was getting worse and worse. He closed the book and took his new assigned seat, resting his back against the bed. “Better?” he asked as he reopened the book.

“Yep,” She rolled over on her stomach and threw one hand over the side of the bed, it landed haphazardly on Kevin’s shoulder.

He smiled. “You’re making sure I don’t leave, aren’t you?”

“Yep.” Anna mumbled into her pillow. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

******

Scott reclined side by side on the small sleeper sofa and watched television while Grant and Sharon slept and Monica went to check on Willow. This wasn’t how he saw the evening turning out but there was no time like the present. He met Monica as she left Willow and then he asked her to take a walk.

And just like that, he popped the question. “Will you marry me?” To his horror Monica didn’t immediately say yes. Then again his approach was a bit wanting in some areas. Every little girl’s dream proposal comes with weeping tears of emotion while surrounded by her family…not red-eyed exhaustion while surrounded by bedpans and urine samples.

He didn’t even have her ring with him. Maybe he should’ve planned this leap of faith a smidgen better. But no, he took a chance and now Monica was staring at him in disbelief…or sleep depravation, it was hard to determine under the glaring fluorescent lights. Either way, if she said no, the conversation was ending in a murder suicide.