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Chapter 17: Worse News

"This doesn't mean I'm wrong, Mike," Micky snapped.

"It doesn't do anything to support your little theory either," Mike argued.

"Guys, enough," Peter said pushing himself in between his two friends before they started going at it again. He couldn't take it if they got into another fight. "It doesn't prove Micky's right."

"Thank you, Peter," Mike said gruffly.

"But it doesn't prove him wrong, either" Peter finished firmly. "You two just need to stop before you rip each other's heads off."

"That's not the worst news," Rose said in the few seconds of uncomfortable silence that followed.

"What else could possibly be worse?" Davy asked.

"I got this file from the hospital," Rose said pulling a folded up paper from her pocket and handed it to Micky. "It's the information on the head psychiatrist." Micky took the paper from her and read it. His face completely drained of color when he read it.

"This is bad," Micky breathed fearfully.

"What?" Davy asked taking the paper from Micky and looking it over. "I don't see anything here that's bad. Dr. Wayne Eichman graduated 30 years ago and settled down at that hospital. Stellar record. Nothing to even hint that he's a maniac."

"Eichman?" Mike echoed.

"Yes," Micky answered. "My real last name. My father's last name. Heather's last name. My uncle's name. That man is my uncle."

"Your name is Micky Eichman?" Davy asked with a slight chuckle.

"Yes, don't laugh," Micky said. "It sounds better when you say Michael Eichman."

"He's your uncle?" Sarah asked. "I didn't recognize him."

"Yeah, well, that's because you've never met him," Micky answered sitting on the couch next to her. "He and my dad had a huge falling out a few years before you even got there. I only met him about 2 or 3 times. I don't even think Rose saw him more than I did."

"I saw him 5 times," Rose answered.

"Really?" Micky asked.

"Yeah, you're mom would take me there on his birthday for a years," Rose answered.

"Lovely," Micky sighed. Peter didn't know what that meant; why would someone take a little girl over to someones house on their birthday? It was after remembering what kind of people they were that he realized what she meant and he suddenly felt like throwing up again.

"Yeah, this is bad," Davy said. "Can we even go after him now?"

"I don't see why not," Rose answered. "It'll just be harder."

"I thought that's why we had to deal with Heather on our own," Peter blurted without thinking. "Because Micky's dad can't get wind of this and come out here."

"What do you mean "deal with Heather"?" Mike asked coldly leveling Micky as Davy hissed reprehensibly at Peter.

"Nothing," Micky quickly. "My dad doesn't give a shit about his brother anymore; it won't be a problem, but I can't be a part of it."

"Don't try and skirt away from this, Micky," Mike snapped. "What did Peter mean? Please tell me you weren't thinking about hurting Heather?"

"Mike, she hurt you," Davy tried coming to Micky's defense.

"She would never hurt me," Mike growled.

"Is that why she left you in the middle of the night without a word hours before you were supposed to get married?" Micky asked. "I know my sister better than you do, and all she knows how to do is play games with people. So yes, I was planning on hurting her to keep her from hurting you any further." The look that washed over Mike's face was unlike anything Peter had ever seen and it sent chills down his spine. As soon as Micky said those words, Mike lunged at him and hit Micky square in the face. Davy, Peter and Rose all rushed to pull Mike off Micky, and despite Mike's injuries, it was a struggle.

"Mike, stop it!" Peter pled stepping once again between his two friends once Davy and Rose had managed to pull Mike far enough away from Micky.

"I'm sorry, Mike," Micky said rubbing his cheek a little. "That kind of proves my point, Mike. There's no way you'd hurt me unless you'd been drugged or something. And you know it. I know you don't want to believe it, but doesn't that kinda prove my point?"

"Micky," Peter cautioned. He knew arguing about this would only make things worse. Mike wasn't in any mood to listen and Peter attributed his anger and aggressiveness to his injury. He just hoped that as soon as Mike's brain healed, he'd be back to normal. In the meantime, it was better to stay off the subject of Heather for everyone's sake. He started to say more, but suddenly Mike dropped to his knees. His face was pale and he looked like he was gonna puke.

"Mike, you ok?" Davy asked kneeling next to him.

"It's the drugs and the seizure," Micky said. "Still wreaking havoc on him. He probably hit his head and got a concussion, too. Get a bucket; he's gonna puke."

"Is that why he's acting like this?" Davy asked grabbing a small trash can from nearby.

"Behavior shifts are an indicator of concussions, drugs, and seizures," Rose answered. Mike leaned over the trashcan and threw upside it. "He could be acting like this for any of those reasons."

"I'm ok now," Mike said after a few moments. "Maybe a little dizzy, but it'll pass." Davy got him a glass of water and sat on the floor next to him.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything," Peter said. "Let's just agree to disagree on this Heather thing until, or even if, we find evidence to either prove Micky or Mike right. Let's let the police do their job and try to find her. In the meantime, we have to save those girls at the hospital. Micky, what did you mean you can't be a part of it?"

"I can't have my name involved," Micky answered after a moment. "He can't find out I'm investigating him at all."

"He doesn't have to," Rose answered. "You don't even have to be involved. I was planning on conducting surveillance on the hospital; see if I can't identify some of the employees he's got working for him as sex offenders. That should get me enough to get in there and search the place. But it might take a while."

"I don't want you hanging out there alone," Micky said. "If he catches you…"

"I know very well what he's capable of, Micky," Rose answered and again Peter's stomach flipped. "But what choice do we have?"

"You won't be alone," Mike said forcing himself to stand up. "I'll do it with you."

"Mike, I can't ask you to do that," Rose said.

"You didn't," Mike answered. "Micky's right. About that. You shouldn't do it alone."

"And if he catches both of us?" Rose asked.

"Better two than one," Mike answered.

"You're still hurt, Mike," Peter said not liking the idea at all. "Why don't me or Davy do it."

"No," Mike said firmly. "I've seen what these people do. You haven't. There's no reason to expose either of you to that darkness. Besides, I won't exactly be doing anything strenuous. Just watching the place. Nothing I can hurt myself with."

"I agree with Mike," Micky said. "On this. He goes with Rose."

"We want to help," Davy said.

"And you can," Rose said. "I will still need as much background information on this hospital as I can, including any past incidents. Go to the library and look up anything pertaining to the hospital or Dr. Eichman. News articles. Books. Anything."

"That's gonna be a lot of microfiche to look through," Davy muttered.

"I know, but its something we have to do for this to work," Rose said. "I need as much background information as I can. Any other reports of sexual misconduct, unexplained deaths, anything like that."

"We'll find everything we can," Peter said.

"I was going to start my surveillance tonight..." Rose said casting a glance at Mike.

"Then I'll go get changed," Mike said.

"Mike, you just threw up," Rose said. "You need to rest."

"We'll be sitting in a car all night," Mike said. "I'll be fine. I need to get out of here anyway; get some fresh air." He walked upstairs without allowing anyone else to say another word. Peter was torn; on one hand, he thought it would be good for Mike to get out for a bit in case another fight erupted, but on another hand he wanted Mike to rest as much as he could. So he didn't say anything as Mike and Rose slipped out the front door.

"I'm going out," Micky said. "I'll be back by morning."

"Where are you going?" Peter asked though he thought he knew the answer.

"I have to go find some answers," Micky answered. "I can't keep going like this. I know Mike is only acting like this because of the seizure and concussion, but I need answers for him when he's better."

"You're going to LA?" Davy asked. "This late at night? What do you expect to find in the middle of the night?"

"Maybe nothing," Micky said. "I don't know, but I have to look. I want to look at her apartment, talk to her parole officer, find out whatever I can."

"You shouldn't go alone," Sarah said.

"She's right," Peter said. "I'll go with you."

"Fine," Micky answered. "I'll be back by morning. Sarah, get some sleep."

"I will," Sarah answered. "Be good."

"I will," Micky said. Peter and Micky walked out the door and towards their car. Peter thought it would be best for him to drive; Mike didn't hit Micky that hard, but Micky was still upset and in no condition to be driving. It took almost an hour for them to get to LA and when they did, Micky directed Peter to where he knew the parole officer would most likely be. Together they walked up the steps to the offices and the front desk. Peter stayed back a little while Micky spoke to the person behind the desk.

He was surprised that people were still here this late in the evening, but was glad they hadn't made the trip for nothing. He wasn't sure if he was on Micky's side or Mike's side. He wasn't even sure there really were two sides to this. He knew deep down that Micky was probably right and that Mike knew it, too, but the drugs were messing with his head. Peter just hated to think that people would be capable of hurting someone the way Micky was sure Heather had. When Micky walked back to Peter he pointed toward the elevator.

"She said he's still here," Micky said. "Wrapping up a meeting with another parolee. Third floor."

"What did you say to get her to tell you that?" Peter asked out of curiosity while following Micky to the elevator.

"I told her that we work with Rose at the police station," Micky answered.

"You lied to her?" Peter asked.

"What was I supposed to say?" Micky answered as they got off on the third floor. "If I told her the truth, she wouldn't have given me the information I needed." Peter didn't really answer; he didn't really have one. Micky walked over to a door down the hall and knocked. A minute later, the door opened and revealed two men, one dressed fairly nicely and another in tattered clothes.

"Same time next week," the nicely dressed man said. "Be on time or I'll have a patrol car make sure you're on time from here on out."

"Yes, sir," the tattered man answered but rolled his eyes as he walked away.

"He'll be late next week," the man said before turning to Micky and Peter. "How can I help you gentlemen?"

"Officer Granger, I'm Micky and this is Peter," Micky started. "We're working with Detective Matthews investigating Heather Eichman's disappearance."

"Yes," Granger said stepping aside to let them in his office. "Please, have a seat. I already answered all of her questions. Did you have any more for me?"

"Yes," Micky said. "Just clarification mostly. She was supposed to show up this morning?"

"Yes, we meet every 2 months," Granger said. "We've been meeting for a little under a year when she got out last. We have a standing meeting now. First it was every week, then every month. She's been doing well, so it'll be every 2 months or so until she's off probation now."

"When's that?" Micky asked.

"She's got about another year left," Granger said. "But if she messes up, the sentence can extend. Part of the terms they agreed to when they gave her probation."

"Is it normal for her not to show up to your meetings?" Micky asked.

"Absolutely not," Granger said. "I deal with all kinds of low-life scum. She's one of the few I'd recommend to have her sentence released. She's always been the one to show up early to these meetings. We do random drug and alcohol tests and she's always come up clean."

"She doesn't drink?" Peter asked. A small red flag went up in his head; Mike had said they both had drank the whiskey, yet she hadn't drank in a year. Why would she suddenly start again after such a good streak.

"She used to," Granger said. "Random alcohol tests are part of the conditions of her probation. Its part of everyone's. She has never tested positive."

"What exactly did she go to jail for?" Micky asked.

"Isn't that in your files?" Granger asked.

"Yes, but like I said, these are just clarification questions," Micky said. "People get arrested all the time and only some of the story gets into the files. You know how it is. The charges that don't stick don't always go in the official reports."

"Hooking and robbery, mostly," Granger answered.

"Mostly?" Micky asked.

"Well, the cops who arrested her said they thought she might have been part of an assault," Granger said cautiously. "But I don't believe a damn word of it. I've known that girl a year, and while she's pretty messed up psychologically thanks to her parents, she's not like that."

"What assault?" Micky asked.

"A prominent attorney around here," Granger answered. "He was assaulted in his home and tied to a chair, sodomized and beaten."

"Oh god," Peter breathed. "Why? Why would someone do that?"

"You haven't been doing this very long, have you?" Granger asked. "Sometimes there isn't a reason. But in this case, they think it was revenge. They found dozens of pictures of kids in sexual poses in his home. He confessed and is now among all the other kiddie rapists in prison."

"What makes the cops think she was involved?" Micky asked unfazed by this news.

"Her fingerprints were found there," Granger answered. "But not on any of the weapons. She claims she just broke into his house and stole a few pieces of jewelry. She confessed to all the homes she robbed as part of her plea deal. She's a good kid deep down. She stole to survive and she never hurt anyone. LA's a hard town to get a trick in; sometimes she had to get money to pay her bills another way. She's turning her life around and I hate to see her screw it up now. If you find her, tell her I said that."

"We will," Micky said standing up. "Can you give us her address? We'd like to check with some of her neighbors."

"Sure, but I already did that," Granger said. "No one's seen her since she left for Malibu." They both said good-bye once Micky jotted down her address and left. Peter wasn't really sure what to say the ride over to her apartment; she seemed like she was turning things around, but she had left a few things out when she'd spoken to Mike, it seemed. Mike hadn't mentioned anything about any thefts or assaults. Had she been a part of that assault? Was the man who was assaulted someone who'd hurt her as a child? Did that mean he deserved what happened to him?

This new vision of the world scared Peter. He'd always thought that no one deserved to be hurt, but thinking about what men like that had done to Micky, Rose, Sarah, Heather and Mike made him want to crawl in his bed and never leave. He assumed there were bad people like that out there; that's why there were so many jails, but he had never imagined he'd ever be this close to it. And he was terrified of the way it made him feel. For the first time in his life, he felt he wouldn't be sad to see one of these people get punched in the face.

Peter waited while Micky rummaged through Heather's apartment. Micky had picked the lock and snuck in while no one was really looking. He didn't like snooping and didn't know exactly what he'd be looking for anyway if he helped, so he mainly just stayed out of the way. He looked around at the apartment and noticed how unhomely it seemed. It was a very small one bedroom apartment with no knickknacks or other personal items of note. No posters on the walls, no pictures, not even a fake house plant. Just a couch, TV, coffee table, dining table and bed. The bare necessities. He would hate living here.

"There's nothing here," Micky announced after a few hours of rummaging. "Literally."

"Who lives like this?" Peter asked. "It's so bare."

"Someone who never spends any time here," Micky answered. "I think this may have all just been for show. I doubt she spends very much time here at all."

"Why?" Peter asked. "Where does she stay then?"

"I have no idea," Micky answered. "But we aren't going to get any answers here."

"So we go home then?" Peter asked.

"I want to make one more stop first," Micky said. "I'm hungry. What about you?"

"I could go for some food," Peter shrugged. They drove down to a diner together not too far from the edge of town and sat down. When it came time to order, however, Micky ordered his to go while telling Peter to stay.

"There's one more thing I want to do while I'm here," Micky said. "And I want to do it alone. Wait here and eat. I'll be back in a bit." Peter nodded and watched Micky leave when his food arrived, but his curiosity got the better of him. He grabbed his burger in one hand and a handful of fries in the other and made sure Micky left money on the table to cover their order and a tip before silently following Micky. He didn't like that Micky was hiding things from them and a part of him told him that following Micky was very, very wrong, but he pushed on. If they were ever going to help Mike and Micky with this problem, they'd need to know what was going on.

He followed Micky silently down a few blocks before realizing they were now in a very nice neighborhood. It was now getting to be early morning and the sun was rising. Children were leaving their houses and walking to school with their parents or other siblings. It was the typical picture of what you'd expect a loving family community to be. Which begged the question: what was Micky doing here? This was nothing like what he expected anyone in Micky's family to be like. Everyone was so happy and smiling.

His eyes followed Micky's and spied a house in the middle of the block. It was one of the few houses not completely buzzing with life. Just a woman, man and child. The woman was kissing the man as he got into their car and the man kneeled down to kiss the little girl on the forehead. She couldn't be much older than 5 and had beautiful brown eyes with long brown curly hair. She looked just like Micky and nothing like the people who appeared to be her parents. Both had blue eyes and blonde hair. The father gave the girl a hug after his kiss and wished her fun in her class that day. She smiled and waved at him as he pulled out of the lot. Her mother told her she could play out front for five minutes before they had to leave for school as long as she didn't leave the front yard.

"She's beautiful," Peter said standing next to Micky. He jumped a little and shot Peter a look.

"I told you to stay at the diner," Micky scolded.

"I got curious," Peter shrugged. "That's Hope, isn't it?"

"Yes," Micky answered.

"She looks happy," Peter said.

"She is," Micky smiled.

"There's always one day a year that you disappear and never tell us where you're going," Peter said. "Is this where you go?"

"On her birthday," Micky answered. "They have a party for her in the front yard every year. They never see me. It would be too confusing."

"How did you find her?"

"Wasn't that hard. When Mike and I first came out here, I wanted to know for sure she was ok, but couldn't really walk. Once I got to the point where I could, I came here. To where I dropped her off. I had every intention of asking Lisa Anne where she took Hope, but saw this instead. They couldn't have kids, Peter. She and her husband. A neighbor told me they'd been trying for years, but never had the family they always wanted. Then one day, she said the baby was given to them as a gift from God."

"You and Rose made their dreams come true."

"I never knew she wanted kids and couldn't have any. I never knew she was going to keep Hope herself. I was afraid at first that it would be too easy to make the connection since she was my teacher, so I came back a few times. Every time I did I saw this. She's happy and healthy. She's a beautiful girl who's as far away from the world she came from as you could get. They are wonderful parents and they give her everything she needs and wants. I couldn't have asked for a better home for her."

"They never see you watching?"

"No. That would bring up too many questions I don't want her to ask. I keep coming back now because…"

"Because you love that little girl. She may or may not be yours by blood, but she is by heart. You were there when she was born. You were there when Rose was pregnant. You bonded with her the first few weeks of her life, Micky. That makes her your daughter. And now she's theirs, too. There's nothing wrong with coming to see her, Micky. Just don't let it hurt you."

"I'm ok, Peter."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Micky smiled turning to him. "Let's get home."