Cross-Examination

Common Law

Chapter thirty-seven

Court Reporter: The person who records everything said during the court hearing on a stenograph machine and prepares a written record for a fee, if requested.

"Whoa, hold up." Travis instructed the cab driver as they neared the hotel. Well, at least, it was a hotel when Travis last saw it. Now, it was scattered with ambulances and fire trucks.

"Why would you want to go there?" The cab driver muttered as he turned into the parking lot. Travis couldn't answer. He was still too shocked. Wes was right. Of course, Wes had been right. Ramon had definitely put his mark on the place.

Handing the driver a few stray dollar bills, Travis hopped out of the car, jogging over to the first uniformed officer he saw.

"Detective Marks, LAPD." he said to the man, who was writing something down on a clipboard. The officer looked up at the name, as if he recognized it somehow.

"LAPD, huh?" he repeated. "Your other guy's upstairs."

"Wes?"

"Yeah, sure." he shrugged. "Apparently, he knew the perp."

And the victims, Travis thought as he pushed past the officer and into the hotel room. Which room? He texted Wes. He didn't get a response, but asked the next officer he saw.

"Room one-oh-two."

"Thanks." Travis headed towards the stairs in haste. Room one hundred and two, the same room Alex was staying in. Of course.

But how did Ramon find out? Had he followed her all the way to Miami? Had he ever been in LA? Travis could not wrap his mind around this seemingly omnipotent man, who wreaked havoc wherever he went, whomever he touched. What had Ramon done to Samuel? Or was the captivity of the child solely on Mrs. Caballo? Travis wondered how much Samuel got to eat, how often he got to go outside, if ever, and play like kids were supposed to. He had been in captivity for months, and Travis was getting the feeling that Samuel had been ignored ever since.

Not anymore.

Travis was going to make sure Samuel got the care he needed and was reunited with his family.

The first person Travis came upon was Benjamin Dias. The cop sat on the blood-stained ground, absently inspecting a bloodied knife in a plastic bag.

"Ben," Travis frowned. "What the hell happened?"

"Look at this knife, Detective." Ben whispered, staggering up so he could stand. "There's an inscription."

"Whoa, bud." Travis steadied the wobbly rookie. "You should sit."

"Why?" Ben tumbled back down anyway, putting his head in his hands. "Why?"

Travis looked at the knife, inspecting the weapon. He wasn't exactly sure who used it, but he had a pretty good idea. Ben was right, there was an inscription. R.A.T.S. was carved into the side of the handle.

"We should call the FBI." Ben whispered. Travis looked up, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't you think that's a little extreme?" Travis disagreed. "We already have uniforms here."

"Like whom?"

"Like the police? We're the police, man."

"No." Ben looked up, eyes ablaze. "I'm the police. And I need backup."

The whirling of the ambulance seemed to distract Ben. He stopped glaring at Travis and turned, with hunched shoulders, towards the window, peering out of it glumly.

Wes suddenly appeared at the doorway. Travis didn't know where he came from, or how he got there, but here he was. And Alex was in his arms.

"Alex?" Travis stared at her in shock. She had been clothed hastily in Wes's pale, blue shirt. The shirttail reached past her bottom. Her thin, black tights were ripped and splattered in blood. As was the rest of her body. Cuts and bruises scatted the visible parts of her body. As for Wes, Travis figured, the cuts were much deeper than any knife could do.

"Travis," Wes nodded at his partner. "Thanks for finally showing up."

"Shit, man." Travis cursed. He was furious. Ramon could hurt him all he wanted, but going after Alex? That was like attacking Wes. Travis wouldn't allow that.

Alex wouldn't look at Travis; her face was buried in the crook of Wes's shoulder. Her chest heaved up and down, Travis did not know if she was crying or not.

"Where's Nick?" Travis asked the room, his face turned towards the vast ceiling.

"Nick!" Ben laughed manically, his hands sliding off of his face limply. "Didn't you hear?"

Travis looked towards the rookie, his face pained.

"You didn't?" Ben's face fell, his crooked smile faded. "You didn't hear?" His voice had shrunk to the size of a pebble, his skin paling. "You don't know that he's gone?"

Travis hung his head. He didn't say anything for a long time. "Ben-"

"Don't." Ben whispered. His voice cracked, and he looked down in shame at his weakness. "Don't try to make it better." He pushed Travis to the side and left the room.

For a brief moment, the three California natives did not say anything to each other. Wes held onto Alex, Alex held onto Wes, and Travis held onto the thin, wispy, sliver of hope that Nick would walk into the room at any second.

"Sir," a paramedic walked into the room. "We have an ambulance ready for your wife."

"Thank you." Wes whispered.

"Would you like to accompany your wife to the hospital, sir? We have room for you and your partner to come with us."

"Whicn hospital?" Travis asked.

"Mercy Miami, sir."

Travis let out a relieved breath. That was the same hospital Samuel Wanda was staying at. The same hospital Lydia worked at, the pretty nurse who sang so beautifully. Brushing the thought aside, Travis addressed the paramedic.

"That's fine. We'll go with you."

Wes nodded at his partner gratefully.

"What about Lieutenant Stein?" Wes asked.

"Lieutenant Stein?" The paramedic frowned at the unrecognizable name.

"The man who was murdered." Wes bit back his impatience.

"Oh, of course!" the paramedic remembered. "Forgive me. The body is also being taken to Mercy Miami. We had another policemen go with the body to the hospital. I believe he was the lieutenant's partner."

Travis and Wes swapped concerned glances. Benjamin.

"Shall we?" The paramedic opened the door a little wider. The two men and Alex followed behind him, past reporters and uniforms and into a small, white ambulance with whirling lights and a very serious driver.

"You're safe now," Travis laid his hand on Alex's shoulder. She flinched and shied away from him. Wes looked at her; his eyes bearing so much pain that Travis himself had to look away. This was not how he wanted this to happen. He never wanted his partner to hurt like this. Wes was nothing without Alex.

She would get the help she needed. For Ben, however, Travis was not so sure his wounds would be healed so quickly.