HEARTBREAKING LOSS
Two months passed, and the time slipped slowly past the two oblivious Donovan families. Periodically, Donovan checked with every federal prison known to man, and was assured that neither Ortiz nor Huete was out of prison yet. There were no reports of Colombian gangs mobilizing or trying to force their way into Chicago. For the most part, nothing was going on and Donovan was greatly relieved. He could give Farron the all clear and finally have a normal conversation with his wife without it turning into an argument. What made him feel even better about the whole situation was the fact that his brother and sister in-law had moved back into the Everett home. It was easier for him to keep an eye out for his brother that way. There you go again, Donovan, acting as if Farron is your kid brother or something. However, his concerns went further than that. Children. It all boiled down to children, and the way some people insisted on using them as targets to get back at their parents. He hated it.
After he was convinced that all was well, he left the nest and went out to the parking garage. He climbed into his car and sat behind the wheel for a few minutes. His hand was on his cell phone and he knew it was time to call his brother, but he couldn't do it, not right away. Something simply didn't feel right. You're a paranoid ass. He hit a key, and a moment later, he heard a phone ringing somewhere out in the 'burbs, where he longed to be with his family. He nearly choked on his own tongue when Kara answered. This was supposed to be Farron's work cell. Almost immediately, he was tempted to hang up. Of course, it wouldn't do any good, not with that wonderful invention known as Caller ID.
"Hi, Kara," Donovan said, masking his obvious surprise. "I was looking for Farron."
"Oh, hi, Frank. Your brother is in the shower. Want him to call you back?"
"Sure," he said. "Tell him to wait until I get home, though. I should be there in an hour."
Before Kara could respond, he hit the 'end' key and sat staring down at the phone for what seemed like an hour. What was there to feel guilty about? There was nothing going on, it was the simple truth. Sighing heavily, he dug out his keys, stuck one into the ignition, and the car came to life with a roar. He was edgy and nervous. Those were two emotions he didn't like at all. When he made the turn into the driveway at home, he noticed that Loralei had both kids out in the yard. She was leading them toward the back, away from the driveway. When they noticed his car, the three of them stood back. Rachel was waving crazily while Loralei prodded Tristan to wave. Ah. It was just Daddy. He saw him every day. It wasn't, however, every day that he could play in the backyard and eat a bug or two. Donovan smiled a little, again wondering what he would do without them. Patiently, his little family waited for him to exit his vehicle. The moment he got out of the car, his two little ones flanked him. He crouched down and allowed both of them to climb up into his arms, Rachel shinning up him as if he were a tree. He gave each a noisy kiss on the cheek. Their happiness at Daddy's arrival was short-lived. They were ready to go about their lives, as they often did, as soon as his 'newness' wore off. He followed them and Loralei into the backyard where predictably, Tristan began to pick around in the grass.
Donovan and Loralei grabbed deck chairs and set them near the babies. With both of them keeping watch over their children, Loralei glanced at her husband curiously. "Are you okay?"
"Sure, babe, I'm fine," he said. "Farron will be calling here soon." He glanced at his wristwatch for good measure. He still had a few minutes. "I'm giving him the all clear. There has been no activity in two months."
"The security alert has gone from orange to green," she asked, smiling faintly.
He looked up at her a trifle sadly. They had had more arguments over the past two months than they ever had during their entire relationship. "Indeed."
She vacated her chair and planted her body firmly onto his lap. "Let's not go through this again, okay?"
His hand came out to grasp hers. "We won't." He kissed her tenderly, aching for it to be so much more. But now was not the time. From inside, they could hear the phone. "That'll be Farron."
Loralei moved so Donovan could sprint off inside. Please let this be it. She didn't like fighting with her husband, even when they made up it still hurt.
* * *
Frank Donovan had covered his bases well. However, even a sharp man such as he could miss a detail now and again. For one thing, Donovan didn't know that Raphael Ortiz existed. Mateo had only mentioned Ortiz's daughters, but none of them were as vicious as their father. Apparently, Farron either didn't know about him or had forgotten he existed. Whatever the case, Raphael was alive, well, and free. He visited his father every chance he got, and at every meeting, he would tell Jesus what was going on with Mateo's life. There was much to destroy. Kara Donovan didn't interest Raphael. Neither Brittany nor Bryce Donovan interested him. The only Donovan he wanted was Mateo. The yellow ass bastard wouldn't come out of the shadows unless something of his was either hurt or taken away. Raphael was young, but he had his father's pull. There were several people willing to do anything they could to help him out. He had money, drugs, and guns, three things that would never go out of style. For two months, he had been watching Mateo, learning his moves, his daily activities. No one was as surprised as he when he discovered that Mateo was working with the police. The police. Amazing. Raphael often wondered if they knew about his former life, the drugs, the women, and the betrayal.
Raphael had learned from an inside source that Mateo's brother had been sniffing around for the last two months, poking about in business he best leave alone. However, it finally stopped and he had free reign to do what he wanted, completely undetected. Almost everything was prepared and set up. There were still a few details to work out, but it was nothing more than a few technical things. All that was left to do now was simply wait for the countdown. Wait for the perfect time to strike. It was a bold thought, but one so very attractive. Why, they would strike in broad daylight. If that wouldn't be enough of a slap in the face for Mateo, nothing would.
* * *
"Lisa," Kara called from the foyer.
"Yes, Mrs. Donovan," Lisa answered as she poked her head through the kitchen door.
Kara smiled at the timid housekeeper. Lisa Mendenhall, a twenty-one year old student at the University of Chicago, had come highly recommended by the placement agency. Of course, Farron had used his connections at the CPD to have her background checked. Lisa was just as she had stated; she was from upstate New York and was attending college in Chicago on a scholarship.
Kara wondered absently, as the tall, slender woman drew nearer, if her blue-black hair was natural since it was in such contrast with her startling emerald green eyes. She shrugged inwardly as she applied a coating of sunscreen to the twins' exposed skin. "We're off for our walk, Lisa."
"Yes, ma'am," Lisa responded politely.
Kara grimaced good-naturedly. "I wish you wouldn't call me ma'am. Makes me feel so old." With the twins tucked comfortably into their double stroller, Kara straightened up to face Lisa. "We'll be gone about an hour, maybe a little longer."
Lisa nodded. "Yes, ma'...Mrs. Donovan." She grinned impishly. "Sorry."
"It's okay," Kara assured her, laughing. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"
"Bright and early. I'll be finished with the kitchen in a few minutes and then I have to head off for class."
"Have a good day, Lisa," Kara said, opening the door. As she pushed the stroller over the threshold, she called over her shoulder, "Please lock up when you leave." Kara physically grimaced again when she heard the familiar "Yes, ma'am," called out.
She walked leisurely down the driveway, talking to the children here and there as if they understood every word she said. Taking the normal left turn at the end of the driveway, they soon passed by Donovan and Loralei's house. She took the time to explain to the twins that their aunt and cousins would not be joining them on their walk today. Aunt Loralei had errands to run that would eat up her entire day.
If Kara Michelle Donovan had just one little inkling of the direction her life was about to take, she would have gladly acquiesced to Antonia's plea for her to come into the gallery that day. Yes, she would have packed the diaper bag and put up with the gallery patrons' irritated glares when the twins would make the slightest noise. But as it stood, Kara had no idea of the darkness that would soon befall her and Farron's lives. She would sink into that pit of blackness and there would be no help for her.
* * *
"Time to head back," Kara announced.
They had walked for nearly forty-five minutes and the twins had become quiet the last little bit of their journey. She peeked around to see that they were sound asleep. She smiled serenely as she locked the stroller's brake and kneeled before them. Bryce's little fists worked diligently in time with his pursing lips while he slept. Meanwhile, Brittany lay quietly, clutching the tiny plushy doll she had grown so fond of sleeping with.
Kara straightened the soft baby blanket over their little bodies, completely unaware that she was being approached from behind. When a shadow fell over her, she bolted to an upright position just in time to receive a violent blow to her left cheek. She hit the ground hard. Whimpering, she reached out helplessly for her children. Her last image before all consciousness left her was the sight of her squalling babies being lifted from their stroller and the sound of a hate filled voice that spat harshly into her ear. "Considere este un desembolso inicial en su deuda de esposo, puta." [Consider this a down payment on your husband's debt, whore.]
* * *
"Jeremy, we're going to be late," Missy Taylor squawked at her husband. "The Realtor won't wait on us forever. You know several other people are looking at that house and if we miss that opportunity..."
Like so many other times in their endless marriage, Jeremy found himself driving out his wife's nonsensical ramblings with other thoughts. His greatest thought at the moment was to stop the car and kick her irritating ass out onto the roadside. Then he would be free to drive on to nowhere and become nobody. Sounded like a plan.
"Jeremy! Damn it, Jeremy, stop the car," Missy screamed at the top of her lungs.
Jeremy slammed his foot down on the pedal. He glanced over as his wife lurched against the seat belt that kept her head from smashing into the windshield. Too damn bad she was wearing it. "What the hell's wrong with you," he growled irritably.
Missy clutched a hand to her chest as she attempted to catch her breath. "Jesus, Jeremy...look!" She pointed wordlessly to the side of the road. A woman's body lay prone next to a toppled stroller. From that distance, there appeared to be no movement from the woman and the stroller was empty. Missy felt physically ill.
"Call 911," he ordered, pulling the car over to the curb and jumping out.
Missy nodded as she frantically dug through her purse. As she waited for the line to connect, she left the car and joined her husband. He was checking the woman for signs of life. The area over her left cheekbone was bruised and bleeding, but Jeremy said he saw no other injuries. She repeated the information as well as their location to the 911 operator. As she listened to the voice on the other end tell them not to move the victim, she spied a tag on the diaper bag. It contained two names only. Bryce and Brittany. She relayed that information to the operator as well. Missy was then informed the police and Emergency Medical Technicians had been dispatched and would be there quickly.
* * *
Farron stood at the Sergeant's desk talking with Stu after his latest lecture with the rookies. Farron had been issued orders by his wife that morning to invite some of the guys over for dinner that weekend. Starved for adult conversation, Kara had commented that she was beginning to think "ga ga goo goo" were real words. He was about to ask Stu if he was free that Saturday when a call came over his personal radio.
Possible infant kidnapping. Woman found unconscious at the scene. All units available respond to...
Farron felt his world slip away as the location was given. He felt Stu's supportive arm go around his shoulder and urge him down into a nearby chair. Farron fought off the desire to collapse into it. Instead, he steadied himself and took off at a dead run for the stationhouse exit. He vaguely heard Stu call after him, insisting he was in no condition to drive. Farron shrugged his words off as he slammed his body into the driver's seat of his SUV. Condition be damned; he'd get to his wife if he had to fucking sprout wings and fly there.
As he tore through traffic, he could hear the wailing sirens of the cars that were responding. When he pulled up alongside the nearest, he immediately knew the occupants of the vehicle were two of his closest friends, Officers Scott Deaton and Terry Creecy.
"Donovan," Creecy shouted from the passenger's window as both vehicles drove hell bent to reach their destination.
"I'm not backing off, Ter," Farron shouted back.
"Get in line, you stupid fuck," he yelled. "We'll escort you there!"
Farron nodded gratefully. He eased back on the gas enough to move in behind Deaton and Creecy. As they weaved in and out of traffic, heading for the suburbs, his tortured thoughts turned to the dispatcher's voice. Woman unconscious. Possible kidnapping. His wife. His babies. He knew it instinctively. Oh, dear God. Kara.
He growled vocally with the horror of his thoughts. Was Kara okay? How badly was his Shel hurt? And the babies? He fought back the tears. What the hell good would he be if he couldn't see to drive? He had to get to her; get to his children. It was the only thought he was able to process. Any other was too terrifying to think about and he was not capable of digesting any of them.
As he neared the scene he saw what looked like dozens of police vehicles blocking the road in both directions. How many people milled about behind the cordoned off section, he could not count. He brought his vehicle to a screeching halt, barely throwing it into park before he tossed the door open and ran toward the scene.
Several officers noticed Farron as he barreled forward. Knowing he could contaminate the crime scene, they bunched together, grabbing Farron as he neared, stopping him in his tracks. Farron grunted with the impact and stretched his arms over the officers' shoulders. He reached out to the one person he could focus on. Kara sat on the curbside with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her head was cradled on her knees and her long blonde hair hung loose as if it were a curtain hiding her misery from the world. His heart shattered into a million pieces as he watched her body rock back and forth, wracked with her harsh sobs. My love, my love. My sweet love, I'm here. You're not alone, his heart cried out to her. It killed him that she sat unaided; no one was taking care of his darling wife while the area was combed for evidence. "Let me go," he growled ferociously. "I must see...KARA," he screamed in his desperation to get to her.
Kara's body stilled when she heard the tormented cry of her husband. She so urgently needed to feel his arms around her, to comfort her and tell her everything was okay. Yes, he could tell her this was all a horrid dream and that she would soon wake from. She needed him and yet she couldn't force her body to move. She couldn't look up. She couldn't bear to see the look of disgust and disappointment in his beautiful eyes. If this weren't a dream, if it were all too real, then how could he stand to look upon her? She had allowed their babies to be stolen. He would hate her forever for her weakness. No, she just couldn't face him.
"Let him go," Stu's calm voice ordered.
"Sure, Sarge," they chorused.
As Farron felt their grip loosen, he broke away, tearing the yellow police tape in frustration as it blocked his progress. Finally free of obstacles, he raced to Kara's side and collapsed to his knees, gathering her tenderly in his arms. "Querida," he whispered softly. He was confused at her lack of response as she remained balled up and closed off. He smoothed her hair back over her shoulder and gently urged her to lift her head. His eyes filled with tears as he caught sight of her cheek. Attended by the EMT's, the gash in her cheek was cleaned and covered with three butterfly bandages. Dried blood covered areas of her face and neck and a clump of her hair was caked together and stuck to her shirt.
Kara's eyes locked onto his. Shock, concern, love, and heartache were all that she found there. No blame. No blame. Maybe he didn't realize yet what she had lost? She fell into his arms; fresh tears scalded her eyes and poured over her cheeks as he held her. "They're gone, Farron. Our babies are gone," she screamed hysterically.
Farron felt weak and useless and less than a man. All he could do was hold her and no amount of shame could erase his tears as he cried with her. Their world had been stolen from them; how could he make it all right? There was no way in the universe to heal the ache and empty void they both felt at the loss of their children. No, no, he admonished himself. He wouldn't give up this easily. That wasn't his way any longer. He would search for his babies until he released his last breath. Whoever dared lay a hand on those precious jewels would pay. They would pay; they would pay with their lives.
He dried his tears with the back of his hand and pulled away from Kara just a bit so that he could look at her. "Baby, we'll find them. Our niños are safe and we'll get them back."
Kara nodded although the tears didn't relent. She couldn't stop them any more than she could stop the ache that coursed through her entire being at the need to hold her children in her arms. There were no words or actions that could assure her things were going to be okay. Her world lay in a shattered mess that centered on an overturned and empty baby stroller.
* * *
Donovan and the rest of the team were at the nest. This morning, Donovan was already irritated. He had gotten a phone call from Shoemaker and spent more than thirty minutes arguing with the bastard over something. Whatever it was [he had completely blocked it out of his mind] had given him one fuck of a headache. The activity downstairs was another hindrance. He was close to tromping down and screaming at the team until he felt better. However, it wouldn't solve any of his issues with Shoemaker. After all, it wasn't their fault he hated his boss. There was, however, one thing he could control, the noise level. Quietly, he descended the stairs and glared at the police band radio Cody insisted on playing when he was bored. He used to have one in his car, but he ripped it out one day after a particularly bad argument with his wife. It only succeeded in splitting his head wide open. Today was another of those days. Donovan reached over to shut the thing off, but the moment his fingers made contact with the power button, the voice of a police officer announced something so shocking that it made him shake down to his shoes. Possible infant kidnapping. Woman found unconscious at the scene. All units available respond to...
Everyone standing around Donovan heard the call. They all knew that the area police were responding to was close to where both Donovan brothers and their families lived. For a horrible moment, Donovan felt his heart stop beating. Three names ran in rapid succession through his mind: Loralei. Tristan. Rachel. How many times did he hear those names in his head before he came back to earth? Jesus. No. He wouldn't think it, not just yet, not until he touched reality. Without half a thought, he ran toward the parking garage. No sooner than he got settled behind the wheel did he flip open his phone and dial home. It was a stupid move. It was obvious that something had happened, but yet here he was, trying to act blasé. Not his wife. Not his children. No fucking way.
After five rings, he nearly cried when Loralei's voice came on the line. She sounded sleepy and irritated, but she was home. Thank God, thank God. "Jesus, baby, am I glad to hear your voice."
"What is it? What's going on?"
"There was a broadcast on the police band about a possible kidnapping. I thought it was you…and I…damn it, I was never so scared in my life," he said.
"Where are you, Frank?"
"On the road. I'm coming home; I don't like the thought of something going on so close to you. Sit tight and stay inside. Baby, I love you."
"Frank? What if it's Kara and the twins? They were going to take a walk and invited me to come along, but I…"
Donovan exhaled deeply. "Fuck," he bit out. "I'm going straight there. Stay where you are, do you understand? Don't leave the house."
* * *
Stu motioned to Creecy and Deaton. They slowly approached the grieving couple. Each of them felt an overwhelming sadness for the distraught parents. Normally, the kidnapping of an infant would be an emotionally draining case to be involved with. But this was no normal case, and the parents were no strangers.
"Donovan," Stu said solemnly while placing a gentle hand to Farron's shoulder.
Farron lifted his head slowly, turning unseeing eyes on his friend. He was lost and extremely out of his element. He could do nothing but hold his wife and offer comfort to her; however, that didn't seem to be helping her. He looked away from Stu back to Kara, only to see her expressionless face and the empty, dead look in her eyes.
"Donovan, we need to ask Kara a few questions...I'm sorry," Stu insisted firmly, but kindly.
Farron nodded. "Of course," he answered without thinking.
Stu hunched down to Kara's level to speak with her. Taking a pad and pen from his pocket, he asked, "Kara...did you see who did this?"
Kara stared straight ahead unblinking. Saw without seeing, heard without listening. Anything that filtered through was lost in a myriad of garbled thoughts and tortured screams within her mind. She could focus on nothing or no one, just the repeated image of her children being snatched from their stroller.
"Kara?" Stu called to her but still received no answer. Not even the faintest acknowledgement of his presence.
"Querida," Farron whispered softly into her ear. "Love, it's okay, baby. We need your help. We need to know if you saw who did this."
In the back of her mind Kara crawled into the comfort of her own little reality. It was safe there; no one could hurt her family, all was well. Not even the knowledge that her loving husband called to her would seep through the walls. No. If she let anyone in, she would feel a pain so horrible she would only wish for death.
"Kara...please, Shel," Farron begged, placing his palms to her cheeks. "Please answer me."
But she did not answer. She would not answer. And Farron cried silent tears for the loss of his beloved children and the seemingly catatonic state of his adored wife.
Before Donovan stopped the car, he prayed that it wouldn't be his brother's children. He didn't want it to be anyone's children. When he exited the vehicle, he saw his twin with his wife. The sight of them huddled as they were was thoroughly heartbreaking. For a moment, he would set it aside. He realized that today, he wasn't a brother. Today, he was a pissed off federal agent. Donovan's eyes weighed the scene like those of an investigator. He took in the sight of the stroller, the people running about looking for bits and pieces of evidence, and the small group of police personnel that surrounded the only eye witness. His heart lurched with remorse at the sight of his twin, pleading for Kara to look at him. Donovan recognized the catatonia in his sister in-law immediately. It was a place he was familiar with, a place he never wanted to visit again. As he drew nearer, Farron noticed his presence and immediately stood, throwing his arms around Donovan in a severe hug.
--To be continued…