The Voices Chapter 8
Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers, it's characters, places, etc., they are owned by Saban. Robert Montry is mine, however, my sole creation. By the way, the last chapter, Die hard is owned by 20th Century Fox.
They had me! Captured with a dead body and a fleeing fugitive from justice, it was not a movie, it happened to me, Kimberly. Now I'm in the back of a police car being taken down to the station for interrogation. I expected they would lock me up for having something to do with this body that they found. Little would I realize it was just the beginning.
One of the officers sat in the cruiser's passenger seat, took a metal clipboard and pen, jotted down on it, then turned to ask:
"What is your name?"
"Kimberly...Kimberly Ann Hart" I replied, "Could you turn on the air conditioning?" for some reason, even though it was chilly outside, I was sweating profusely.
He turned a knob and he air began to circulate, then continued "Where do you live?"
"At Key West Apartments" as I pulled on the collar of the jacket to let air in.
"Where were you going?"
"Back home"
"Why are you out so late?" he asked.
"I was visiting a friend" whipped my hair around then teased it with some fingers.
"Really, what's the name of your friend?" he asked intrigued.
Yipe! think fast, "Tommy" no...dang it.
"Tommy, huh? And where does Tommy live?"
Uh no, they caught me, "I...I don't know" dropping my head.
"Hey!", tapping the metal cage that separated us with his pen, "Pay attention!"
An ambulance roared in, no sirens blaring, there was no need. The body of the hooded man was bagged, tagged, and taken away whilst other police came up, sealed off the area to examine. This officer questioning me stopped abruptly, got out and talked to several others around us, a chill ran up my spine.
What were they going to do with me? Arrest me? Thinking about what had happened, "Die Hard" made me chuckle. That Robert character, what would he do next?
The officer soon returned:
"OK, Mrs. Hart, so far what you have told us does not corporate."
"What do you mean?" I naively put it.
"You say you visiting your friend Tommy but you do not remember where he lives. Second, you live in the Key West Apartments and that you were heading that way" pointing towards the gas station.
"What's wrong with that?".
"Problem is, Key west is that way" pointing down the direction from which I had come.
I cursed myself on the spot, "Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid!" my head slammed hard against the cage, my dang instincts were useless. The officer told me to stop, threatening to restrain me if I didn't. When I did, a large red welt was visible on my forehead.
"You are going to have to come down to the station with us, okay?"
"Why?" I asked.
"To answer a few more questions" he added, clicking his pen then putting it in his breast pocket.
"Then what?" I wanted to know. "Let me go? Go home?" jubilant.
"We'll see" looking straight forward.
His partner came in, sat in the driver's seat, "We're good here. Let's get her down to the precinct." He started the engine and we left, the crime scene still bustling with activity. What surprised me was that no media had arrived yet. Good, I didn't what the attention. Once more, I felt nothing for that hooded man. He tried to kill me, then who knows with my body. Shook my head, better him than me.
Once at the station, they corralled me in a small room with only a bare chair to sit on. The room was muggy, very little ventilation. Taking off that jacket would have been a good idea if not for sweat saturated my shirt underneath. Just bare with me on this.
For several minutes, yet an eternity, I languished in there. Finally the door opened and a swift, cool breeze gave me goosebumps. A man entered, clean clothed, a white shirt tucked into his pants, a shinny badge on his belt.
"Hello, Mrs. Hart, I'm Detective Schmit of homicide," he paused, if he was waiting for a reply I did not give him one.
"It seems that you were seen leaving the scene of a murder with another man. When police caught you, the man took off, correct?"
Silence
"Who was the other man?" he questioned me. This Schmit was very straight forward, always asking questioning and waited for an answer.
"What other man?" trying to act like I had amnesia.
"The one that our officers caught you with walking out of the alley. Wearing a camouflaged jacket and blue jeans. Don't think they didn't see him," his graveled voice began to grow in temper.
"I don't know" my lower lip rose up.
"You don't know, or you won't tell us?" the detective was getting agitated.
Shrugged my shoulders, "Whatever you want" nice one.
"Mrs. Hart, are you aware of the penalties for lying to a police officer?" leaning back in his chair.
"No" what the heck, I'm already in enough trouble for escaping from a hospital.
From out of the blue, he asked the most disrespectful question I had ever heard, "Are you a street walker, Mrs. Hart?"
"A what?" my eyes widened, mouth agape.
"You know, a prostitute?" as if there was any good to put on it.
"I am most certainly am not!" raising my voice in bewilderment. What in the world would click in this man's head that I was one of those. I was beautiful, young, talented, not of those people on the corners every night.
A second police officer came into the room prior to a knock, "Can I see you out here for a moment?" The two left, closing the door. Only my imagination could feed my craving for what they were discussing. In minutes, the detective came back, "Mrs. Hart, are you aware that you escaped from a hospital?"
"Duh!" nice sarcastic remark.
Another officer came in, a female this time. Sporting short blond hair, middle aged, tall, she whispered to Schmit whom then nodded his head and left us two alone.
"Hello, Mrs. Hart...my I call you Kimberly?" in a sweet voice.
"Kim" I retorted.
"OK KIM, now listen, I understand that...a rape victim does not feel...well...normal following an attack" as she spoke, her hands moved.
"Wait!" I interjected, "I was not a victim! That man TRIED to, but someone else stopped him!" I began to use my hand gestures.
"Are you sure?" questioning me in reverse psychology. "Are you sure that he did not brain wash you to try and lure you?"
"What kind of nonsense is that! I'll put it to you so you can understand clear as day! "I was walking home, right? A man grabbed me, the hooded man, pulled me into the alley, held me up against a wall holding a knife. Before he could pull through, a second man stabbed HIM, the hooded man." I finished.
"Then what?" she wanted to know more with a stupid grinning smile on her face that I wanted to smack off.
"He disappeared after that, that is all I know." I wasn't going to say anything else without a lawyer. I crossed my arm and leaned back in my seat with a feeling of victory.
That officer still had a smile on her face, "Okay, now as a rape victim, you are probably going through a lot of emotional changes..."
"I WAS NOT RAPED!" bellowing at her with all I could.
The officer stopped midsentenced. "We are finished" and abruptly left. I don't understand why wink.
When she left, Detective Schmit reentered "All right, Mrs. Hart. One last chance. Who is the guy with you?" he scooted his chair closer to me, leaned forward to look into my eyes. "Who is he?"
"I don't know" I shrugged then sarcastically smiled.
"All right. We are finished. You are going to need to sign some papers, from there you are going to be escorted back to the hospital for the remainder of your time," he said.
"You aren't going to lock me up?" I asked, standing. A random thought entered my head about those prisons. Females were taken to separate jails but that did little to ease me on what would happen, to a petite, short haired, beauty like me. Sure I could defend myself, but against the likes of them, no.
"We can't. You are the victim...so we are going to need you to appear in court at a later date to testify," he walked out before I could ask any more, still my heart rose, they were not going to lock me up!
"Wait...testify?" had they caught Robert? I prayed not as another officer took me to another room with a desk. How I wanted to ask him if they had captured him, but it might endanger him as well so I sealed my lips.
On that desk lay several sheets of paper. They were waiting for me to sign them. I didn't care what they read, I just scribbled my name on them, each one appeared differently, didn't care. Finished, I dropped the pen then groaned, "Finished" my heart simply gave out.
The clerk, Stacy, piled them up, "Thank you" in an upbeat mood.
"Shut up" I grumbled whilst being led out. Next stop was the parking lot. In order to get there, we had to pass the jail. Inside their cells, inmates. Inmates that hooted, catcalled, and cheered all aimed for me. I ignored them but was Robert in one of those tiny cells? I tried to see, pulling away from the officer but the officer restrained me and pulled me out of the jail fore I could call his name.
Outside, a cruiser was waiting for us.
My heart was at the very bottom it could be at this time. Going back to the hospital and being treated like a number instead of a human, I cried. Balled up in the back-seat, I began rambling names, calling for them, begging them to help me in my hour of need. Nothing came but one simple voice,
"I'm here"
Was it that sadistic voice again? No. No, it wasn't. Those simple two words dried up my tears, matured me, and took all of this with stride and grace. Dang it if I was going to be taken away, I'll be taken with pride not a coward.
The trip back to the hospital was brief. The town's main street bristled with tall buildings. As we passed by, I tried to look at every one of them. One club was very busy in limelight and people dancing. "Perhaps the girls are in there" I wondered.
The hospital was still alight. Eerie white with no movement, it made the hospital look like a morgue. Nurses and orderlies were waiting for me with a gurney outside the emergency entrance. When the car came to a stop, they wasted no time in grappling for me, hauling me out, and strapping me down on that bed like I was some deranged physcopath. In a way, I felt that way but did not resist as they ripped off my jacket.
"That's mine" I wanted to shout at the man that had taken it, but hushed myself, don't make it any worse. In minutes, I was back in my old room, those flowers still on the dresser next to my head. Strapped down, unable to move, a guard watching over me, I didn't get rest that night.
"Tommy...Trini...Mother...if you are out there, please help me" I prayed.
Next morning, at early light, Mother and Father were there once again, in the same formation, Mother at my head, Father at the door. Trini and Tommy soon appeared rather disturbed.
"Honey, why in the world would you try and escape from a hospital?" Mother asked me.
"I just don't like it here" I put it plain as day.
"Don't you want to get better?" she asked.
"Of course I do, but not like this" I thought but didn't say it.
I could see Tommy, still wearing his white shirt and matching pants, pacing about with arms crossed rather upset. "Tommy, are you all right?" I asked him. He stopped, glared at me, "Why in the world would you try to escape? Huh? Casing the streets like some...dead beat"
"Tommy?" all eyes were fixed on him. He promptly walked out.
"What's going on?" I asked Trini.
"They set up a court date for you to appear" she replied.
"Really? When?"
"This Wednesday" she said.
Pause
"So?" I still couldn't figure it.
"Kim" mother stepped in, "You still have to go to the mental hospital for at least seventy-two hours. You're still going to miss the tryouts"
"What!" trying to sit up, the strapped did not give.
"Sorry but you're going to have to pull through this like you always have" she said.
"The tryouts...Coach said I could have another chance to get back on the team" I whimpered, then cried. It was my only chance.
"I know he did, but either way..." Trini patted my leg.
Yeah, either way I'm screwed. No matter either way I put it, I was going to a loony bin and didn't expect to live through it.
