External Repercussions
By: CNJ
PG-13
2
Kathleen:
I spent most of the day driving around, wondering just what my husband was going to do next to cover his ass. I never knew he'd go so far. Late in the day, I decided to call the hospital to see if Amy had pulled through.
I had to call several before I found which one she was in and even then, they gave scant information. However, I was relieved to learn that she'd regained consciousness. Her mom and three sisters had arrived and were staying with her.
"Send her my get-well wishes, will you," I told the receptionist on duty. "…from Kathleen Avila."
"I will…" We hung up and I walked back to my car. So much crap in just a few weeks.
Raymond:
I went into work where Grieb greeted me.
"I understand that Peck was killed," Grieb told me.
"Yeah…somebody else shot Peck and got away before Kathy or I could catch him," I started to sit at my desk, then remembered that my chair was broken. I tried to forget that I'd smashed that chair in a fit of anger the other day when I'd found out that Peck was fooling around with my wife.
"Sergeant Wallace…oh, how bad…" Grieb shook his head sadly as he stared at her empty desk. "Have you heard any word on her condition?"
"Just that she was still unconscious as of noon today," I stated also gazing at her empty desk. Would she ever be back here again, I wondered.
"She sure kept you bouncing, didn't she?" Grieb continued. "Sharp as a tack. I do hope she pulls through. Maybe I should call the hospital to check on her condition since it's now afternoon and her condition could have changed."
"Yeah…do that…" I muttered, wanting to just get him away and get some time to think about what I'd do next. I sat for a long time until Grieb came back to tell me that Amy had regained consciousness. Her condition was still very serious, but she had improved a bit.
I decided to see if I could visit her…verify that she's still alive. So I bid Grieb good-bye and headed to the hospital.
Amy was on the third floor. The receptionist that the desk had to get my name and ask who I was, then after calling the room, finally let me go in.
Sure enough, three woman close to Amy's age and one older woman were perched by the bed. Amy herself lay in bed with what seemed to be a dozen wires coming out of her.
"Hello…" the older woman approached me, smiling and held out her hand. "I'm Enid Wallace…you must be Raymond Avila." She had salt and pepper short hair and large hazel eyes. "Amy can have visitors for a few minutes at a time."
"Nice meeting you," I smiled back and shook her hand.
"My name is Maaarcie," the woman with dark curly hair greeted. Her eyes looked a lot like Amy's…large and very brown. The other two women introduced themselves as Nora and Jade.
"H'llo, Ra'munnn…" Amy whispered, her own brown eyes heavy-lidded.
"Hi, Amy…" I came close and touched her hand, which had three tubes coming out of it. "How're you doin'…"
"Ohhh, Ray…" Amy tried to smile, but couldn't seem to. "I'm…I'm glaaad you're not…" she seemed to be struggling to find the right word.
"Hurt?" I finished for her. She nodded and closed her eyes as if just talking exhausted her. I also noticed that her lower body seemed unnaturally limp.
"Is anyone else…'uuurt?" Amy rasped, her lips seeming to move with great effort.
"No…" I shook my head. Amy nodded weakly, then her hand went limp and fell to her side, dangling over the edge of the bed.
"I think she's drifting off…" Nora whispered. "So, I think time's up…" She peered over at me and I got the message and bid them goodbye and left. "Hang in there, Amy…" I told Amy as I left.
I got home to find several cops waiting in the living room. "What's…?" I muttered, looking around.
"Detective Avila?" One of them asked, stepping forward.
"That's me…" I responded, getting a bad smell from this.
"We still have several questions surrounding Dennis Peck's death that we'd like you to answer."
Okay, play it cool, Avila, I reminded myself, coaching my palms not to get sweaty, for my breathing not to speed up. "Sure." I sat down, putting on my casual pose. They asked many of the same mundane questions typical of blue shirted pig cops, but one comment totally discombobulated me.
"…wicker chair upstairs did not have any clothing threads or lint on it," one of them was saying. "If someone had bumped into the chair, a small lint would have been left on the chair….but we found none."
"In addition, we found no clothing lint or intent over the railing," the other cop added. "If someone had leaped over the railing, there would be material residue over the railing."
"Hey, they made a fast getaway," I didn't like where this was leading. Had Kathleen said anything? "A slick killer can make a hasty getaway without leaving their ass lint around…especially if they avoided the squeaky part of the railing…" They peered at me for the longest time, then one of them made a note in his notebook.
I then felt like cutting out my tongue when I realized my error and fought the urge to smack my head. Of course, an intruder wouldn't be as familiar with which railings squeaked and which didn't…
"Mr. Avila, we're afraid you'll have to come down to the station with us," one of them intoned. He stood up and flashed his badge and I fought the urge to knock it out of his hand.
Like some criminal, they read me my rights and handcuffed me, adding that the gun I'd used, which had originally been Peck's,had also been found. I'd wiped off my fingerprints, but they'd figured out that an intruder wouldn't know how to level Peck's gun to shoot it.
Amy:
I was relieved that Raymond and the others seemed all right…then I remembered it was Dennis Peck that had been on the killing spree. What had happened with him? Had he escaped?
Mom reached out and took my hand. Nora, Marcie, and Jade had gone to get something for us for dinner. "Anything to beat this hospital food," Jade joked.
"You look worried," Mom told me. I nodded and told her some of what had been going on…what I could remember from the past few days. But I still had no memory of being shot. I was less groggy than before and my thoughts were now more coherent.
"I…can't feel my lower body," I added in with my other worries. As if to answer my question about my body, Dr. Levin came in. She smiled at me, telling me how glad she was that I'd regained consciousness.
I nodded, then let her examine me. The scary thing was, I could tell she was examining my legs, hips, or feet at all. "Can you feel this?" I looked down to see her with my left leg in a grasp. I shook my head, feeling cold fear seep through me. "This…?" She touched my hip, pressing. Nothing. I could just feel down to my lower waist, right around where the bullet wound was.
Finally, Dr. Levin sat up, her face grave. "Well, Amy…I'm sorry to say that your lower body from your lower waist down is paralyzed…the blood you lost from the gunshot wound was mostly lost from your lower extremities, which badly damaged thousands of nerve endings in your lower body."
"Oh…God!" Mom gasped. My sisters came quietly back in as Mom and I were digesting this news. Numb shock overtook me. Marcie came over and put her arm around me.
"So, she c-can't walk?" Marcie quivered.
"I'm afraid not…" Dr. Levin said softly. "I'm so sorry, Amy. But there is a possibility of regaining mobility through physical therapy. "I am so sorry about this…" Dr. Levin looked at all of us sadly for a long minute.
I'm crippled, I realized in horror. I tried to sit up, but just couldn't. I felt so vulnerable, so helpless. We sat for a long time, letting the news digest.
We ate, but none of us were hungry. I couldn't taste the food, even though it was Chinese, which I usually love. I fell asleep early that night and slept so deeply I didn't hear the morning nurses come in.
Kathleen:
Of all stupid things! Raymond of course gave himself away and was just arrested. That I found out when I got back home. Two officers were still there and told me that Ray would need a thousand dollar bail to get out again. I didn't have that kind of money up front and neither did Raymond, my idiot of a husband. I decided to let him stew for the night in the can.
Having had enough of his stupidity, I packed some bags and left that night to head to my parents, who live in a nearby suburb. They let me in for the night, but asked a million questions.
"Don't you think you should let Ray's parents know what's going on?" Mom asked me.
"I guess…" I guess his folks should know about their son's stupidity lately. So I called them and told them about Raymond being arrested.
"Wheeeyyy, hold on…" his dad, Juan demanded. Juan Avila is a lawyer. Maybe he can bail Raymond out of this mess because I certainly don't intend to. "Arrested…for what!"
I explained about the killing spree that Dennis Peck was on, leaving out the part of my sleeping with him. "…so after Peck shot Raymond's partner and left her almost dead, Raymond went postal and shot Peck to death….so he needs you to bail him out."
"How much?" Juan asked.
"A thousand."
"I take it you don't have the money."
"No…otherwise, I wouldn't be calling you."
"So, no, you'd leave Consuelo and me in the dark about my son's foolishness…"
"No, not that…it's just…just come up with the bail…" I stated and hung up. Sometimes Raymond's parents are even denser than their son. They live in Texas, so it would take at least a day for them to come on over with the bail.
Amy:
The next day was…long and very tiring. The nurses had to lift me on the next gurney, sponge bathe me, which was very embarrassing, then lift the parts of my body that were damaged. I looked away as they changed my bandages.
I also worried about what was going on at the LAPD. I was glad Raymond was unharmed, but was Peck still loose? Who would he kill next?
I felt a rush of anxiety as I struggled to balance on my elbows lying face forward on the table as Dr. Levin examined me further. She tried to calm me, but my upper body just shook uncontrollably and I fell forward, feeling weak and frightened. She stroked my back for a while before wheeling me back to my room.
"I think you need lots of rest for now, honey," Dr. Levin said softly as she lifted me onto my bed. Like a limp rag, my body just sank downward. Mom reached over and lowered the bed's upper half.
"Oh, sweetie, this must be so hard on you," Mom whispered. It sure was. I nodded, then the tears spurted into my eyes before I could stop them. Marcie came over with tissues. Seeing them made the crying begin for real and I leaned on Mom and just cried for the longest time, feeling the sobs rip to the surface and feeling high-pitched keens escape me. I couldn't stop crying for the longest time, even when the night orderly came in with the dinner tray.
I had a vague recollection of my sisters taking turns stroking my back and murmuring consolations. Mom held me until my tears slowed. I shakily fell back onto the bed, my upper body weak and almost as useless as my lower part.
The phone rang then and Nora grabbed it. "It's Chief Grieb…feel up to taking it?" she asked me softly. I nodded and reached out for the phone.
"Hello, Sergeant Wallace!" Grieb's booming voice filled the line. "Good to hear you're making a comeback!"
"Yeah…" I said softly. "I guess…I'm crippled, though, can you believe it. But let's not talk about me now…what's going on and is everyone all right…Peck…has he been apprehended?"
"Amy…" Grieb paused a minute and I got a bad feeling about that pause. "I wish I could tell you that everything's back to normal here, but it isn't…Peck is dead and Avila has been arrested."
"Oh…God!" I felt fresh tears fill my eyes. "Wh-what happened?"
"It appears that Avila shot Peck after seeing him with his wife…I am sorry to bring you this news…but as a colleague, I figured you have a right to know."
"Th-th-thanks for t-t-telling m-me…" I struggled to get out.
"I'm sorry this upsets you…hang in there and continue to get well." Grieb told me before we hung up. My mother and sisters peered at me with one somber, worried face.
"Oh, Mom…everyone…it's gotten worse…" I keened, a fresh spill of tears running down my face. "Ray's…arrested…P-Peck's…dead…" My voice just went then, clogged by sobs. Mom held me as I cried all over again. Was there just any way this nightmare was going to end? It felt like a bad dream that none of us could get out of.
Vaguely, I heard the night nurse come in and was glad to take a pill from her and just cry myself to sleep, away from this daytime nightmare we were all trapped in.
More later!