Where are our Children: A Novel: Complete and Uncut

  Chapter Nine

  Goddamn.

  I must say, Chief that was my first reaction when I saw it as well.

  Don’t bullshit me. Don’t bullshit me, not on something like this. Are you prepared to bet your professional reputation and mine that this information is absolute and accurate?

  Darling, I’m so sure that I would bet my life on it.

  -Phone conversation between the Editor in Chief of the Georgia Times Union Bernard Lott and Head Staff Writer Lucy Burgess.

  Seth

  Denise Prince’s condo, 11th Day

  After an initial hesitation, he had accepted Denise Prince’s invitation of dinner, coffee and company at the comforts of her apartment.

  Sitting in the soft leather chair, Dr. Seth Dupree hesitated again…and again deciding that a second cup of coffee after a wondrous meal would justify a lengthy drive back to his hotel by the airport if little else. Originally, he had told her that he shouldn’t, that the hour was growing late, and he should be turning in to his hotel that was costing him a pretty penny after all.

  She smiled but said that she wasn’t hearing that. She said they had been working hard for the last couple of days and deserved the chance to relax and let their hair down.

  Now he was transferring the warmth of his cup to his lips, down his throat, in little swallows. Well, look at here; he had drained the cup to the bottom again. He uncrossed his legs and sat up as straight the love seat would let him. It was time for him to leave. It was time for him to go—

  He heard the emergency vehicle speed by at the same time Denise did. By instinct he looked up at her as she cracked the blind to peer out ten floors down. He saw some of the life drain out of her hazel eyes and her mouth quivered. Erica Lovings, Denise’s adult child was missing. It had been one of the talks of the triage center since he’d arrived there. It wasn’t the only one, but the gossip about Erica was leading the pack of news items by a nose.

  When she found his gaze again, he saw her need for human companionship rise to a new level, almost a palpable hunger. He didn’t need his wife’s background in Psychology or Sociology to understand that. He allowed himself to sit back until he found that comfortable spot in the chair again.

  They had found a professional chemistry almost from their first shift working together. Seth had participated on these specialized emergency responses and trauma teams most of the second half of his career. He though that the cooperation of some of the state’s finest medical personnel was not only a good idea, but a necessity after the 911 attacks all of those years earlier. And then centering the state’s efforts in and around the capital in Atlanta made even more sense. The city was the home for the country’s defense against infectious diseases and likely was the lone target for any foreign terrorist plot they may involve biological, chemical, or nuclear weapons.

  Still, no one including Seth could have expected to see what they’d seen happen over the last few days.

  A doctor named Greenwood, who had the smell of salami and Italian bread flowing from his pores, had teamed Seth with the head RN over this particular unit which happened to be Denise Prince. She was an excellent nurse, yet, Seth found himself even more impressed with her leadership and organizational skills. And we needed every bit that you could offer. There were the burn victims that were flown in from The Andrew Young Youth Center bombing and the law enforcement personnel that ran over the mines when Serena Tennyson had been apprehended.

  Seth had foolishly allowed himself to believe that the hostilities had ended when she was taken downtown. I can finally get on to my business of finding Angel, and trying to rebuild our life together. The Gray man had remembered saying then. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

  He’d done countless surgeries in the days treating those gunshot wounds. Most of these victims came from the Fox Theatre after the siege there was ended by the FBI and then another round of cops were brought in when Serena made her daring escape during transport out of Atlanta…if the news people could be believed.

  And then the impossible happened.

  It got worse.

  A House of Chains had sent…what they were called…the Peacekeepers into the Carver Housing Projects to attack some area drug dealers. Hundreds of mostly wounded young people were brought to the trauma center. Most never left…at least not alive. And my God, what was the cutting off of the heads about.

  Three of his nurses had to be relieved of duty when the first torso’s arrived without their owners head. Medical people are trained to see and likewise treat anything.

  They had no idea they were operating in the middle of a war zone.

  He looked at his cell phone…there were no calls or messages from Angel again today.

  But there was a call that he had made. He had almost made it from his home back in Macon but didn’t. But he had finally called her after all these years.

  She had picked up the line after the house phone had ringed five or six times.

  Hello. Hello, is anyone there?

  He had only let her hear his breathing.

  It’s you isn’t it. I thought that we agreed that you wouldn’t call me again, Seth.

  He had finally responded, his breath still heavy in his throat. I’m sorry. I know he’ll hurt you if he catches you on the phone—

  No, Seth, He’ll kill me if he catches me on the phone. Look…listen…I’m going to say this to you again, Seth, and then I’m going to hang up ok?

  What? He had wanted to know.

  It’s not your fault, Seth. You have to let it go. It’s not your—

  And then he heard what sounded like a door that banged against its hinges. He heard a roar of disapproval from the man who had entered the room.

  And then he had heard her scream before the line went dead.

  It’s not your fault, Seth. You have to let it go.

  But she was so wrong…so wrong indeed.

  Seth had called the four of them up even after his parents had warned him not too. They didn’t mind him having his friends over to the seaside house, but no drinking, no drugs, and definitely no boating was going to be permitted over the weekend while they were out of the country.

  By legal standing, he was 19 years old then, an adult, but he still lived under their roof, at least part of the time when he was home from Durham and Duke University. And where were you guys off to that time anyway? He knew his mom’s inheritance and his dad’s businesses and investments netted them an allotment of about two or three grand trips a year from their home in Savannah to the more exotic ports of London, Paris and Rome.

  But they weren’t going to tolerate any nonsense from him, especially his love of boating, not with a late season storm brewing in from the Atlantic. Savannah was well in sight for nor’easter like conditions and some beach erosion only if they were lucky.

  Seth had even had the audacity to pitch a fit and argue at the old man, even after the poor grades he’d posted his first full year off at school. He had to really buckle down the last six weeks of the semester to pass and advance or he could have kissed his academic scholarship goodbye.

  Well, the entire first year at Duke wasn’t a total failure.

  And when Pam Toliver, Antoinette Burner, Clint Sessions and Sam Casey arrived on his parent’s front porch, especially with their boating gear in hand, he knew they were in for a very special weekend, one he didn’t plan on forgetting.

  The storm rolled in on top of them about four hours later. The weather man had predicted the system would wash up further south nearer to St Simons Island close to the Florida border. When Seth had heard the report, he made an executive decision that the seas would we calm enough for them to sail, especially if they left now. He remembered the wind tossing a twisting the 20 footer and for a brief time Seth wondered if the boat would be cut in half by the gust. In the never ending cloud bank above them he imagined the dark clouds being his father’s frowning face and the rain being his mother’s tears for her only child.

  Ant
oinette went overboard somewhere in their fifth hour out to sea. The others called for her and looked over the side, Clint nearly spilling over in the Atlantic trying to find his friend. But Sam had great eyes and spotted her not too far out from the boat.

  Seth didn’t hesitate. He dove in and reached her in a short time. And with the help of his other three friends, the finest people he’d ever known, they got her hauled back into the boat. They pulled Seth back in immediately thereafter.

  Antoinette’s skin was clammy and she wasn’t breathing. Seth looked to his friends for answers. They looked to him for the same. No one knew CPR although Seth had taken some classes…that he had missed some days…and didn’t pay attention in others, when he had secured his boating license.

  They tried to make it up as they went along…these four soon to be law students trying to emulate a medical procedure, but Antoinette wasn’t playing the role of a cooperative practice dummy very well…and died soon after.

  “You didn’t answer my question, Doctor?” Denise Prince asked him. How long had he been out of it? You’ve been gone long enough for her to slip out of her work clothes and into a pink housecoat with a neat bow tied her waist. Seth noted that she’d showered, as her light skin had that same clammy appearance that Antoinette’s did before she…before you killed her, you moron.

  The aroma of meatloaf still hovered in the room. He retreated to the relative safety of food conversation. “The meatloaf and everything else was excellent, thank you, Denise.” He raised his empty coffee cup towards where she was standing. “My compliments to the chef,” And it was a true compliment at that. Angel cooked meals on a semiannual basis back home.

  “You should eat in more,” Denise said to him with a smile on her face. Her teeth were perfectly straight and white.

  The first night together they had ordered pizza. The 12 and 16 hour days had taken their toll on him. Seth wasn’t much on fast food, even when he had been that foolish age when the boating accident happened. So the prospect of yet another meal of burger and fries was massively unappealing to him. Last night she had offered to grill him some chicken breast on one of those name branded grills. Tonight, it had been classic meatloaf and mashed potatoes. But I can tell by your slim enough waistline that it’s not about the food, it’s about the company…or the lack thereof.

  She had been an engaging and thoughtful host. He was being selfish. What harm could come from listening to her. The woman’s only child still hadn’t been found.

  “If you need to talk,” He touched his ears to signal to her that he was listening.

  Denise sat in the chair across from him and put one leg underneath the other. He tried not to look at the gap that had wedged between her legs. “I guess I probably should, shouldn’t I?” She lifted one of the pictures of Erica off of the coffee table and stroked it with two fingers with affection. “I don’t quite know what I should or can say. I’m not sure where to begin?”

  “I understand.” Seth sat next to her to break any further barriers that may have been blocking her from expressing what she felt. Two things happened that disturbed him: He got a clear look at Erica thanks to the LED lighting flowing from the kitchen…my God; I would say that that was a young man if I didn’t know better. The second thing got his heart pumping more blood. He got a whiff of her baby oil, and he would have sworn that she smelled even better than Angel did after her showers. Cool it, Seth, the Gray man scolded himself. You just miss your wife is all…but Denise was a beautiful woman as well.

  “Tonight must have been especially difficult. I know it was for me. Even with all of our training, we’re human first, and I don’t think anything can prepare you for what we saw coming through into the triage center. My God, all of those young people, all of their lives thrown away like yesterday’s garbage.”

  Denise nodded slowly. “During the 411 attacks, I kept waiting for my ex-husband to be wheeled in. I thought because of his profession, because of his bloodlines, I just knew that he’d been injured…or worse.”

  Seth locked his fingers with hers. It was an instant reaction and an unplanned one. “The important thing is that he survived. He is a survivor.” And now Dr. Seth Dupree truly knew he was lost…at least in knowing what he wanted to happen to Agent Chris Prince.

  He had to admit that a wave of disappointment washed over him when Denise told him the news that her ex-husband had indeed escaped the Fox Theatre alive and mostly unharmed. He’d come to Atlanta hell bent on what…seeing the man suffer for his profession pulling his wife away from him. Was I that simpleminded? Didn’t I learn anything from the boating accident all of those years ago?

  And for a time, albeit a brief one, he even thought about trying to hurt Agent Prince himself. Now I don’t know what to do about any of this?

  “And then today,” Denise was saying. “Today, I thought it would be Erica brought in on a gurney. Doctor Dupree, I kept seeing her face on all of the bodies of those headless victims…all of them. Roxanne Sanchez, the private investigator I told you about, she told Chris and he told me that Eric’s trail seemed to end at Carver Housing Projects.”

  “Again, the worse scenario didn’t play out, Denise.” Seth said, and squeezed her soft hand tighter. “And I think it’s time that you start calling me Seth.”

  “Alright, I would like that…Seth.”

  “I want you to hold on to hope. I want you to take a leap of faith that everything is going to turn out okay.”

  “I do, Seth.” She moved closer to him. “Sometimes hope and faith is all a mother has left to cling to during trying times like this one, especially when you are alone.”

  Seth looked away.

  “What?” Denise asked him. She scooted her butt so that the rest of her body was on the edge of her chair and so that their knees now touched. “I see a question forming on your face, Seth. Ask me anything you might want to know. I don’t mind?”

  “Your ex-husband is one of the most qualified people in this state to be finding your daughter.” Seth said with an edge, the Gray Man getting to his feet, circled the living room, and reserved a spot standing in front of her. “He shouldn’t be relying on a stranger to lead this investigation. He should be out there pounding the streets looking for her. She’s family.”

  Denise reached up and patted the knuckles of his balled up fist in reassurance. “He is, Doctor, in his own way. Chris is searching for her.”

  She warmed up his coffee over his moderate objections and both of them sat back down. Seth picked up Erica’s picture and ran his fingers along the smooth wooden frame trying to push how the young woman looked to the back of his mind. Her sexual preferences were irrelevant to the fact that she was missing…or worse. “Angel told me a long time ago that you and Chris met when Erica was a little girl.”

  Denise cheeks flushed with the warmth of a pleasant memory. “Erica must have been two or three years old. Chris adored her. He took my little girl everywhere he went.”

  “Erica must have fallen in love with him about the same time you did?”

  “No,” All of that warmth in Denise’s face washed away. She put her back to Seth and stood next to the fireplace. The symbolism was not lost on the Gray Man. “I wish to God that what you just said was the truth but I know that it wasn’t. You see, Doctor—Seth, Erica resented Chris presence in our lives almost from the very beginning.”

  “She resented him,” Seth asked. “Why would Erica resent someone who, at least on the surface, made her life better?”

  Denise peered over her shoulder just enough for Seth to see one of her hazel eyes. “Understand that up into that point of Erica’s life, it had just been the two of us. We struggled financially. I was trying to finish getting my nursing degree, keep food on the table, and raise her alone. But in part, because of those struggles, we developed a very tight bond.”

  “So in her two year old mind, Chris intruded on that bond.”

  Denise whipped around, facing him. “In her eyes he severed it beyond repair.”


  Set sat his cup in the saucer and rubbed his face. “She eventually got used to the idea though? Things between Chris and Erica had to get better with the simple passing of time right?”

  “Yea, maybe, for a short time, maybe it did.” Denise shook her head in agreement. “I would say that for about four years things went pretty well.

  “And then,”

  “And then…life happened, Seth. As Erica grew older she began to question me more and more about her biological father. You know how cruel children that age could be. Her classmates teased her about not having a real daddy.”

  Seth swallowed any potential thought on that, but the look in his gray eyes must have betrayed him.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, Seth. You were probably going to say something along the lines that most black children don‘t have their fathers in their day to day lives, or that many Black children don’t know who their father is.”

  “It’s not my place to—“

  “You may have even gone further and say that many fathers of Black children are in jail…despite what Xavier Prince and a House in Chains has been able to accomplish.” She said with some anger…and Seth noticed her eyes tearing up for the first time.

  “Tell me about Erica’s father. Are you two still one speaking terms?” Seth’s mind was racing to find a positive point somewhere to end this conversation on. He hopped out of the chair and handed Erica his cell. “Does the man even know that she’s missing? You should call him. Perhaps he could help in the search somehow—“

  “I don’t know who Erica’s father is.”

  Denise’s words struck Seth with a fierceness of finality that he hadn’t expected. He felt himself slouch in his stance. This conversation wouldn’t end on a positive note after all. “I’m sorry, Denise. I shouldn’t have pride in your private affairs.” Shit, Seth thought. That wasn’t your greatest use of the English language either you moron.

  Denise squeezed his wrist and then his hand, her touch wasn’t unpleasant and yet he shrank from it all the same. “I was a wild child. It was the spring time back home in Knoxville. I had a spectacular shape that had been hidden under all those heavy coats and sweaters all winter.” She laughed then, and Seth wondered how much humor was really in it. He found out quickly as her face became one with frowns. She tried to hide her shame and her tears and failed miserably with both. “It’s my fault, Seth. All of this is my fault.”

  “Don’t do this disservice to yourself, Denise.” Seth used his free hand to pull her into his embrace. Her breast pushed through the housecoat onto his chest. “We all make mistakes when we are young.” You brought a life into the world, Denise, while I took one out.

  He tried to apologize for her…for what, Seth Dupree was unsure and she wasn’t hearing it anyway. She pulled her head back far enough for him to resume eye contact with him. “Did you and Angel ever want to have kids?”

  Seth’s smile held very little warmth to it. Despite the mistakes in his past, he always thought he would have made a good father. “We never seemed to get around to it.”

  Denise grinned at him “Maybe your wife knows what I do: Mother’s love their children almost to a fault.” She hesitated and added: “I know that we Black women do. Many of us raise our children alone with little or no help from their fathers. We’re tired. We’re discouraged most of the time. We’re angry all of the time. So we focus all of the love that we have inside of us onto them.”

  A tear chased another down her cheeks.

  “Denise don’t do this,”

  She held him tighter, and he felt a stirring in his slacks. He could feel her warmth. All of the oxygen went out of the room,

  She said: “We’re so angry at the world for not loving our children the way we do: So, when it comes to our kid’s faults and shortcomings, we refuse to see them. Even the ones they inherited from us.”

  “What are you talking about, Denise?” Seth got another full whiff of her baby oil and whatever she used in her hair. “What did Erica inherit from you?”

  Denise pulled him to her with amazing strength and kissed him once softly on the lips. “She has my anger.” She parted his lips with her tongue. “She has my aggression.”

  She must have felt his manhood and rubbed her body up against it. Dr. Seth Dupree had ventured to Atlanta with the goal of retrieving his wife and possibly hurting Chris Prince as a bonus. Angel claims not to love you…she sleeps with other men, you know this, Seth. Why shouldn’t he take this moment…and this woman for himself?

  Seth found that he was kissing her back, seeing her brown skin against his pale skin hardens him further. He had never experienced—

  Finally, he pushed her back, using his height advantage, and her shoulders for leverage. Both marriages still had a chance to be reconciled. This was a…romantic interlude trying to introduce itself where it could only do harm. He won’t hurt anyone’s chances by not being able to take back what he and Denise may have been engaged in minutes from now.

  “I’ve overstayed my welcome, Denise. I’m sorry.”

  Denise Prince spun him around, pinning him face forward against the wall. Her housecoat is unbuckled, how and when it got that way he could not say for certain. She caught the slightest glimpse of her clad in a beige bra and matching panties. “Don’t be sorry, Seth. Stay as long as you like. Your room is already paid for and will be waiting on you when you return.”

  “I know that,” Denise whirled him back around with the same precision as before. The housecoat was completely gone and her bra straps were falling from over her shoulders. “Denise, we really shouldn’t do this.”

  “We should,” She put his hands on her large breast, which felt magnificent absent the bulky housecoat. “Your hands, you have wondrous hands, Doctor, touch me all over.”

  “I’m a surgeon,” He said unnecessarily, when she wasn’t drowning him in kisses. “Steady hands are the key to being successful at my profession. They could mean the difference between life and death.”

  “You’re right. They may make the difference tonight.”

  When she tried to reach for…it he halted her advance with his right hand. He tried to be both soothing but stern all at once. The memories still flashed in his brain of how quickly things spiraled out of control with Angel, especially during the few quite times he’d experienced since he’d been in Atlanta.

  “Denise, I’m still a married man.” He said. “Despite our difficulties, I want things to work out with Angel. For better or worse, I still love my wife.”

  “And I still love Christopher Prince.” She backed away a half an inch with the admission. Something in her eyes told Seth that it was the first time since their dissolution that she’d told anyone this. Yet, it didn’t stop her from using her free hand to break through his defenses…and squeeze him until it hurt…until it felt so right. “It doesn’t stop me from having a woman’s needs. Please…don’t make me beg for it.” Denise’s tears began to flow again. “That’s why I asked you to come over last night…so we could wait for Roxanne’s call together.”

  “Huh? What are you talk—“

  She kissed him again on the mouth…and worked her way around his neck and started whispering, barely coherently in his ear. “Is it too much to ask for a little pleasure from you, sir? It’s been too long. My little girl may never come home again. A little pleasure that we take from time to time may be all that I have left if you won’t come back to me for good.”

  “Denise…who are you talking to—“

  She looked mesmerized. As if she was under the influence of hypnosis or something even stronger. “I still love you…Chris.”

  “Denise,” He used some of his strength reserves to push her to a safe distance but luckily, not to the floor.”

  She lunged at him—and bit his lip.

  He cried out in pain.

  But it was her who was enraged as if she’d been attacked and not him.

  “Goddamn you,” She yelled almost in a masculine tone, and
it took all of his remaining strength and determination to restrain her. “Goddamn you, sir. You’re so fucking selfish. I’ll ask you again, Chris, do I have to beg for it?”

  And then she collapsed to her knees as if she had truly been slapped back into this time, this reality. Seth made himself out to be a statue. He truly wished he’d had his wife’s expertise on case file like the woman who was kneeling before him.

  He snatched a paper towel from the roll of out of the kitchen and dampened it with warm water. It stung when he wiped his bleeding lips, but he would heal in a day or so. But will you heal, Denise? She needed far more than a warmed wet paper towel to heal all of her wounds.

  She cried for a long time until she had finally cried out. She was still only dressed in the matching bra and panty so Seth picked up her robe off of the floor and covered her shoulders against the night’s chill.

  “You’ve been under a lot of stress, Denise.” He spoke to the top of her head, his one hand on her shoulder. “Give yourself some time. I’ll see you tomorrow if you show for work. If not, call me…we’ll talk. I don’t take any of this personally. I promise you that I’ll help see you through this.”

  Denise looked up at Seth and he wiped the last of her tears away. When she stood he tightened the belt around her housecoat. “Take a leap of faith with me, Denise.”

  And then there was an urgent knocking on her front door. Alarm graced her face, and the Gray Man was sure that he wore a similar look that matched his host.

  “Denise…it’s me, Chris.” The voice on the far side of the door that belonged to Special Agent Christopher Prince said. “I have…I need to speak with you. I know I usually call first before I come over here. I need you…to…I need you to open up…please.”

  Denise stared at the door for an extended time before she finally said, “Just a minute, Chris. I’m just getting out of the shower…let me put something on.”

  She sprang into action—which included ushering Seth unceremoniously into her bedroom’s walk in closet. “Seth…Doctor, I need you to stay in here for a minute. Don’t say a word.”

  Seth tried to make sense of all of this. One moment this woman is all over him, the next minute she is calling and treating him as if he were her ex-husband…and now she was trying to hide his presence from that same man. The right side of his brain tells him that he should walk out there and let the man see that he’d been alone with his nearly naked ex-wife. Hadn’t he accused him and Angel of consorting in the past? The other side, the rational one tells him to calm the hell down and not get stupid in here. Christopher Prince is a highly trained, highly skilled Special Agent of the FBI. And not to mention the man is probably armed none the less.

  The coffee cups are still in there, Seth shuddered with his new thought. Both of those cups are still on that table. Prince is also an investigator for God sakes, and an investigator is curious by nature and suspicious by career choice. The longer he hangs around the more likely he would realize that someone had been here. Or is still here, I’ve got to go—

  Denise cried out with a fierceness that made her first scream before her ex-husband arrived pale in comparison. Now he could make out what she was saying. “No, Chris, I don’t believe you…nooooooooooo.” A new round of cries rushed to greet the first ones. “Oh my God, Chris, not my baby…nonononono,” She said until Seth’s ears could no longer process the incoherent words falling from Denise’s lips.

  The muscles in Dr. Seth Dupree’s neck grew tense. He’d never know the privileges of parenthood and likely never would.

  Buy Seth’s Seven year old brother Todd had died in a boating accident when was but five himself.

  And he recognized the agonizing cry of a grieving parent when he heard it.

  Chris

  Red Wine Road, 12th Day

  They arrived at the second ‘murder’ scene in a wooded area off of Red Wine Road, two and a half miles from where the first one had displayed itself to them.

  It looked to Special Agent Christopher Prince that although Agent Sheridan was on the site already himself, that the authorities in general, and the FBI specifically hadn’t got the tip first.

  Two dozen reporters had lined up and leaned over the barricades that separated the vultures from another doll’s body. He saw his partner, Tabitha Blue, parked with her arms folded next to Sheridan. Both were standing in the shadow of a huge uniformed cop whose red cheeks looked as if someone had just pinched them.

  The day was picturesque, warmer and the shifting wind had blown the smoky haze due west of the city. And here’s another good portent…The APD had learned from the near fiasco the other day and had dozens of off duty police officers mingling amongst the gathered crowd on onlookers.

  He slammed the passenger side door of Angel’s rental and his childhood friend rushing to match his pace from the other side despite her limp. They quickly passed the reporters who were all asking the same type of annoying questions that reporters always asked for which he and Angel both were answering “no comment” until one of them matched them movement for movement behind the barricade with a query that he did not escapade.

  “Agent Prince…Agent Prince, would it be fair to question your competency in leading this investigation considering your personal stake in what happened yesterday?” Lucy Burgess, of the Times asked him in her heavily South African accent.

  Chris stopped his forward advancement long enough to acknowledge the woman’s question and her huge overbite but so far had remained silent.

  “After all, the rapid firing events that happened at the Carver Housing Projects were a mixed bag for you: Your half-brother Xavier launches a devastating attack that nets him 61 confirmed Choir Boys although the Bishop and his deacon managed to escape…the executions. Eight Peacekeepers died as well” Lucy said pushing a recorder towards his face. “And yet, your step daughter is one of a hand full of civilians who were also found deceased when the authorities arrived. And although her the certainty behind her death has yet to be determined—“

  “No comment,” He waved his hand at her and her device.

  Angel must have felt his pulse racing in his neck and his ear. She put her small hand in his side and nudged him back in the direction that he had intended to reach before the other woman had distracted him.

  “Christopher, calm down,” She said barely loud enough above the noise of the crowd. She cut him off so that once again he couldn’t get to the actual crime scene until he had. He stopped again, this time resting his hands on his hips and caught his breath. There was an untimely pang in his gut but he dared not reach to soothe it with all of these journalists present. He refused to throw more speculative wood for their fires.

  Angel was saying: “Your step daughter’s death isn’t some nosy reporter’s death, I don’t care where the body was found—“

  “I don’t think she was alone.” Chris answered an unasked question instead. “I can’t shake the feeling that someone else was inside Denise’s apartment when I arrived.”

  Angel cocked a brow in confusion. Chris had tried not to think about the personal implications or Erica’s death on him or his ex-wife just now but Lucy Burgess had made that task damn near impossible now. He wanted to drop his professional demeanor and get angry. He wanted to punch something…or somebody for how rough this entire episode was going to be on Denise. He didn’t love her now…that time had passed, but he had no desire to see her suffering the way the woman had suffered over the past 24 hours. And yet, I can’t help but to feel as if you were hiding something from me the other night.

  But there was more than one reason that this case needed him to get his act together and refocus.

  At least a second child, 13 year old Mathew Clifton, had joined Moses Jackson in the missing category. He had been outside playing a game of pickup basketball at a local park and had been raptured on his walk back home.

  Angel seemed to get his reference was about his ex-wife and not his dead step daughter at last. “Alright, Christopher
,” She said shrugging her shoulders. She got in his wake so no one else would hear her. “You told me last night that Denise has engaged in a sexual relationship with another woman before. Even though she had come out of that particular closet with you doesn’t make her immune from the potential embarrassment about being caught red handed; especially, with her ex-husband calling on her with the worst news imaginable.”

  “I considered that.” He matched her tone and flashed his index finger at Sheridan who looked to be growing impatient with their delay. “Denise told me that it happened about six months after our divorce. And that it was an isolated onetime event and a one sided deal that satisfied her curiosity and another woman’s aggressive posturing.” I’m likely to have believed that scenario was reversed though, knowing Denise like I do.

  “Did you consider that Denise could have been bedding a man that you know?” Angel asked. “Maybe he is a mutual friend of yours and she was trying to save all three of you from embarrassment.”

  Chris stared off into the bright afternoon sunlight. “I considered that too. I don’t know, Doc, but there is something more going on here.”

  Angel massaged his arm and raised her voice back to a normal pitch. “Alright, enough speculation about Denise’s motives for right now. How is she doing?”

  “She’s doing as well as any woman who’s lost her only child could be.”

  Angel locked her gaze on him and he had known no other choice but to be mesmerized by her big brown eyes. “Would you mind taking some professional advice from an old friend, Christopher?”

  “Shoot,”

  “Spend some time with her. Regardless to everything that’s happened in the past, through all of the muck, the three of you shared a bond. That bond doesn’t snap just because you two aren’t together anymore. You were family.” A smile played on her enhanced lips. “Look, I know that my relationships define the term ‘complex’, but you may be the only one who can help her through this. She’s very vulnerable right now. Don’t let anything push her over the edge.”

  Chris laughed and turned away. “You can’t begin to understand the complexity…the volatility of this situation, Doc.” He said looked back to where Lucy Burgess and her flock were still standing and he let out a low whistle. “If those reporters ever got wind of what Erica did…”

  He turned back to Angel. “In speaking of complex, how’s Seth? You’ve barely mentioned his name since we started working together again.”

  “What’s to mention?” Angel looked uncomfortable…and used the opportunity to get the head start on the final few strides if would take to reach Sheridan and the others. “My husband is an excellent surgeon and an even more caring sensitive man.”

  “Angel, did your coming here throw some type of wedge between you two?” Chris rubbed at the day old stubble on the top of his head. “Hey, look, now it’s my turn to apologize for dipping my nose where it doesn’t belong. But you have told me before that Seth was a lot like Denise in that aspect, that he believed our relationship went far beyond a long childhood friendship and an occasional professional one.”

  “Stop it, Christopher.” Angel stopped just short of where he others were and stroked his cheek with some affection. “I’m a difficult woman to live with. I know this. But I’m sure our situation will work itself out in the manner that it was always intended. These things always do.”

  “You’re the Doc.”

  They joined Sheridan and the others by the crime scene. He caught Sheridan’s eye and his boss greeted him and nodded curtly at Angel. He doesn’t appreciate being kept waiting but it couldn’t be helped. Chris could feel the tension between them. And the aftermath of Xavier’s bold decision to take Carver from the Choir Boys hasn’t scored any points for the Prince family with authority figures either. Blue flashed a brief, sympathetic smile at him. He knew all of this had been tough on his partner. He appreciated her gesture.

  “So it’s another doll?”

  Sheridan nodded. If there was to be a reprimand coming it would be handled later and in private. “And if I know my history, I would say this one mirrors another episode from the early 1980’s.”

  It was Angel who was nodding. Blue planted her hands on her hips. Chris stooped down for a closer look.

  “Has anyone else noticed the texture of this doll’s face and hands? And what about the exaggerated length of his extremities...I believe that his arms and legs are far too long to belong to this body.”

  “Yea, Christopher.” Angel agreed. “I did notice.”

  Blue said, “What about it?”

  “I believe that this doll is a representation of a child that is older than the first. And although Mathew Clifton’s disappearance doesn’t put him officially missing for several more hours we can bet that this doll is a representation of him.”

  “Interesting,” Sheridan got eye level with Chris. “And this texture you mentioned, it’s older, it’s dirtier. We do know that the Jackson kid was taken first right?”

  “He was, Agent Sheridan.” Angel said over both their shoulders. “In my time that I spent with Louis Keaton I took him to be very methodical, very organized when it came to his passions. My belief is that although he kidnapped Moses Jackson first, he actually had his eye trained on the Clifton child before he took Moses.”

  Sheridan nodded at the doctor—and then snapped his fingers in remembrance. “My apologies, Agent Christopher Prince, Dr. Angel Hicks Dupree, this is officer Bucky Branch of the Atlanta Police Department.” The big man nodded a hello to the two of them. “Would you mind repeating what your witnesses told you before?”

  “Sure,” He said and pulled out his notes. “Two of them said they saw a two door pickup, Probably a F150, casing this neighborhood over the past two or three weeks. I don’t have to tell you people what goes in the woods around here, especially at night. Both of the witnesses just assumed it was a white guy looking for some crack or some head.” His red cheeks reddened further as he peered at the two women who were present. “Sorry.”

  “A F150, huh,” Chris asked and stooped down again. “There were tire tracks to and from the scene. “It’s clean. There aren’t any oil leaks.”

  Blue said, “The width of the track would verify a SUV or pickup truck of some type, but probably nothing more than that.”

  “And since it hasn’t rained up here or anywhere else in a year, tracking this makes it even more difficult.” Sheridan said. “Are you sure that none of your witnesses saw the perpetrator make his move? We are talking a very high profile case. We are talking the likely involvement of Pandora. Those facts may scare some folks out of fully cooperating if their afraid of some type of reprisal as a result of speaking with the police.”

  Branch shook his head.

  Chris used the silence to say: “Moses was taken in the early evening. Mathew was told to be home just before the street lights came on…and his parents said they noted he hadn’t returned about 30 minutes after that.”

  Sheridan looked as if he were getting a fresh measurement of the scene’s perimeter. He looked at his Rolex. “Yea, but as important as those two boys are I’m as interested in when he staged this scene. First, he had to practice over and over again to get it just right. Secondly, once he set this up, he had to escape without being seen.” He said. “Another bullet is incased in this dolls head. There is the presence of the rope just like before. This, boys and girls, is not an accident. There is a serpent somewhere in the ruins here. He’s telling us something.”

  “Why are you looking at me like that, Christopher?”

  He wasn’t actually. He felt a moment of what exactly…déjà vu, vertigo, but for a moment he felt it he were on the outside of himself looking inwards. Now, out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sheridan and Blue fixing their glares on him as well. Officer Branch looked confused.

  Angel tried to help. “Now that you’ve seen both scenes you’re convinced that Hugh Keaton is responsible for this.

  “Wait a sec,” Blue sai
d. “You just called the suspect Hugh. All along we’ve been addressing as Louis or am I missing something?”

  “You’re not, Agent Blue. Keaton was burn with his legal name being Hugh. We got some updated information from his file a day or so. That is the name on his social security card and on his birth certificate.”

  Angel looked at Chris when she said, “Somewhere in the days after he turned 18 he turned in an application for a legal name change…and Louis Keaton was born. I had a half a dozen sessions with him during my stint in Pandora and I never could ascertain the absolute reasoning why he changed it.”

  Blue snorted. “That’s an easy one, Doctor; he was trying to escape his past.

  Angel rounded on her. “Or trying to embrace a new future perhaps?”

  She must have felt all of their eyes are on her.

  “That’s my theory.” She shrugged. “I don’t believe that he was escaping Hugh…he is embracing Louis, whoever that person may have been.”

  “I would love to catch him and ask him that question, Doctor.” Sheridan said.

  “But the problem about why we are here comes down to answering two questions?”

  Angel asked them for him. “Did Keaton set either of these models up for us to find and just importantly why did he do it?”

  Chris squatted down again. “With the notable exception of the local authorities involved, some historians, and a few hard core nutcases out there, no one knows the specifics of this case better than Keaton does.”

  He felt someone…Angel was standing over him. “You’re wrong, Christopher. There is one other person alive who would know, because he’s the only living witness left to the first round of these horrible abductions.”

  Now it was Sheridan’s turn to snort and he put his left hand in his pants pocket. “And he’s safely locked away down state.” Sheridan said, thanked Officer Branch for his time and testimony and dismissed him. The big man looked disappointed that he wouldn’t be allowed to hang around with the plain clothed types any longer. “I’ll vouch for the doctor on this one…and I know better than anyone what that surveillance around the Andrew Young Center told us on 411. I don’t believe Louis Keaton…or whatever we’re going to call him…I don’t believe that he’s a hardened killer.”

  Blue slammed her hands down on the hips of her tight pants. “That was years ago. I was barely born yet. Who’s to say, especially under the influence and guidance of Serena Tennyson what this man is capable of now.”

  Angel stepped away from Chris and towards the younger woman and fixed her with a stare that he recognized all too well. “I do know, Agent Blue. I supervised his therapy for over 90 days. I had his records in my hands. I studied and compared the notes of other physicians and therapist who treated him for his longings well before I did.” She softened her tone and decided that dressing down Agent Blue wasn’t really getting the group anywhere. “Louis Keaton is a troubled man. Both of the dolls we’ve discovered so far have a real bullet lodged into the doll’s head and the extremities roped together. I would bet my life on him of not being a direct threat to the boys lives and I don’t believe he is strong enough, courageous enough, or organized enough to build these scenes.”

  “Are you prepared to gamble the life of these boys…and potentially others with your theories and conclusions, Doctor?”

  Chris watched Angel look away from Blue and her question. He wanted to help his friend but he would have called himself a liar if he hadn’t said that he was thinking along the same lines as his partner. The four of them stood in the awkward silence for a spell, sucking in the dry air, when Sheridan broke the silence at last.

  “Doctor, I’ve studied your notes on Bipolar Disorder and some of the other illnesses of the like. Your opinion seems to fall out of line with most of your colleagues.”

  Angel nodded.

  “You’ve written that some of the symptoms of Bipolar Disorder include depression, high anxiety, eating disorders and the victim having constant…sometimes recurring nightmares.”

  “I did.”

  “But you stated in one of your last papers, that he was as stable as you had witnessed, even when you spoke by phone to him recently. Have you considered the possibility that Keaton has had a major relapse?”

  Chris spoke up first. “I’ve thought about the possibility that he is going through even a further internal conversion.”

  “I would be irresponsible for ruling anything out at this moment, of course.” Angel hugged herself and Chris could tell that her leg was tiring. “I believe the Hugh persona capable of staging all of this. Agent Sheridan you’re right, most people in my field disagree with me on Keaton’s specifics. Look, the last time I saw him, I treated him as if he were suffering from Dissocialized Identity Disorder. If he were my patient right and now I would continue treating him for the same thing. That’s why I believe that he’s fully reverted back into his Louis persona.”

  Sheridan frowned. “Louis?”

  Chris knew that Angel was comfortable in her element here. And he could safely assume that she either couldn’t or didn’t get tore up the night before…and that added to her sharpness.

  “It would be easier for you to understand and for me to explain if we back up a step or two.” Angel explained patiently like any good teacher would talk to her students. “Agent Sheridan, where I disagree with the other professionals along certain psychological levels is this: DID in theory is a clash between two or more distinct personalities. Each personality has its own patterns and perceptions and more importantly, its own voice. Keaton adapts and interacts within the stimuli he is given in any environment.”

  “Speak English, Doctor,” Blue said with an air of inpatients. “What exactly does any of that psychobabble mean?”

  “It means that you’ve pushed your FBI training away from the social sciences, Agent Blue. It also means that I believe in DID, especially in this case.” And since she had all of their attention, she added something more. “I believe that it is the number one rising social disorder or mental defect in this country.”

  My God, has Denise ever suffered from something like this. He wondered if there was still time to help her. “And is it fair to say that you believe that this DID is often misdiagnosed as Bipolar Disorder?” Chris asked the question that needed to be asked right now.

  “I do.” Angel’s hazel eyes sparkled, ever thankful for his support.

  Sheridan said: “And Keaton? This entire equation leads back to him somehow.

  “Let’s say that in the worst case scenario you’re right, Agent Sheridan. Let’s say that Serena Tennyson has turned him loose.” Angel said and stooped down where he had been before. “I’ll reiterate that in my sessions with him, I failed to reach the conclusion to whom or where this Louis persona was or where he came from. I’ll repeat that I don’t know him to be capable enough for of this type or organization that you see here. And if Serena Tennyson has mistakenly put her faith in him to serve her needs, she is walking around with a grenade with the pin pulled out.

  Now it was Chris who took his turn at showing inpatients. “You told me over and over again that trying to reach this Hugh persona was the basis of all your work in Pandora.”

  “It was and I tried.” Angel stood back up, but seemed smaller now. With all of the stress and the pain in your leg, how much will you drink tonight? “Hugh Keaton is the one true personality. He retreats into the Louis personality from time to time and even others, but it never last. Hugh always pushes himself back to the surface. Perhaps…perhaps Serena found an avenue, an opening that I didn’t see. She lacks my professional training, but I ‘ve never met anyone more ruthless in the pursuit of her agenda.”

  Sheridan said, “She was involved in these therapy sessions with you?””

  Angel looked Sheridan directly in his eyes. “Serena knows everything that I do.” She made her voice gruff. “And she’s had more time to steer him towards whatever methodology that she’s chosen.”

  “Great,” Blu
e said.

  Sheridan cocked a bushy brow. “Dr. Hicks-Dupree, in your expert medical opinion, are these two boys lives in immediate danger or not? How much time do we actually have to find them?”

  Angel shrugged. “That depends on a lot of variables that I can’t account for, sir. I don’t know how much leverage Serena has gained over him. I’m unaware to how much self-control Hugh has learned since I last saw him. He may possess the power to switch back and forward from personality to personality by now. That ability would make him nearly invulnerable from capture.”

  Chris made the rounds measuring his coworker’s faces after the punch of Angel’s last statement landed. Sheridan’s blank glare was only broken when his cell rang…and he waved a silent goodbye to the party. Blue trailed off to more comfortable surroundings and conversations by moving to conduct a second interview with one of Officer Branch’s witnesses in the only way that Tabitha Blue knew how.

  With the scene clearing, Special Agent Christopher Prince resumed his inspection of the scene from his squatted position, getting as close to the data as the space allowed.

  An image of a dead Erica…and then one of his 12 year old self flashed one after the other, but with some concentration he chased both of them away. He’d had his own therapy sessions over the years. He could recite those damned steps in the breathing techniques almost verbatim.

  “They’ll be more kidnappings.” He said more to himself than he did to Angel. “One of these two boys will be set up as his general. He’ll be responsible for watching over the other captives. He’ll be used to help keep the other boys in line. Keaton will need him to help keep them all safe.”

  He felt both Angel’s hands on his shoulder. It was her turn to support him. “Hopefully, one of them will be as strong as you were in their role as the general. None of them will survive the coming days without his courage.”

  “I know that.”

  “Well know this as well, Christopher: I’m sure that you, the FBI, and everyone else in the free world are convinced that Keaton is responsible for these probable abductions—“

  “As he was responsible for the majority of kidnappings during what became known as the Atlanta Child Murders 30 years ago.”

  “Alright,” She said as Chris stood and turned to face her at last. “Then let’s satisfy all of our theories so that we both can move forward. I know a way we can do just that. But I’m sure you’re not going to like it.”

  “These boy’s lives are on the line, Angel.” He said. “It doesn’t mean one hell of a lot what I don’t like right now?”

  “I only pray that if Keaton is doing this, that he will behave and keep his hands to himself over the next 24 hours while we’re gone.”

  “Gone,” Chris asked. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

  “You’re boss said that the only other one who would know this terrain and detail was safely locked up down state. I think it’s time for you and I get the unique perspective of the man serving time for many of the Atlanta Child Murders. I think we should pay him a visit.”

  “Muhammad Clark.” Chris heard the disdain and defeat in his own voice. “You’re right, Doc. I don’t like your idea one bit.”

  They needed a fresh prospective of the only other pedophile that had come close to accomplishing what Louis Keaton has accomplished. Angel was right.

  And Special Agent Christopher Prince knew it.

  Louis

  Undisclosed Location, 13th Day

  Mathew Clifton had tried to kill himself.

  Louis had tried to warn Serena’s Agents watching them the boy was growing more distant. He attempted it while the idiots stood outside of the bathroom while he supposedly bathed.

  The relationship, if it could be called that, between Louis and the guards had been dissolving ever since they arrived at the sanctuary. It was especially bad when the leader of Pandora herself wasn’t around. They called him all kind of names and made crude gestures at him.

  The bathroom and the shower areas were one of many places where the close circuit cameras were running feeds 24 hours a day. Poor Mathew tried to drown himself in a pool of his own dirty water when Louis pushed himself through the door and pulled him to the surface of the tub. No matter, Hugh reminded him. The Dragon Woman will blame us for this. And then the other’s voice in his head became almost a whisper as if outsiders could truly hear him at all. Take the boys and go. Louis refused to listen to voice…he had little choice in hearing him, but listening and doing were different matters all together.

  Anyway, Moses and Mathew were safer here. And he had more work to do for both Serena and—

  These boys are ours. The Dragon Woman will not claim them as the Caretaker claimed our last feast.

  Louis instructed the guards to bring Moses to his room. Louis’ room was square shaped windowless chamber with a single king sized bed. It was camera less, or so Louis theorized. He tested that idea last night when he masturbated time and again to see if the guards would add a new name to the list they already referred him by. They had not. Serena knew for him to be truly effective when the time for him…to show his passion for the boys, he would need at least a small essence of privacy.

  Moses set as far away from Louis as could manage on the bed. But it wasn’t because of the distance that the boy appeared small. Moses had refused to eat anything offered to him so far. He was losing weight rapidly and some of the color was draining out of his face. Louis thought he was the ghostly mirrored image of the way his mother would look after one of his sessions with Uncle Templeton so long ago.

  “Moses,” Louis sat on the floor to try to make the boy feel more secure. “May I have a few minutes of your time?”

  Moses shook his head violently. “No…I don’t want to. Please don’t—“

  Louis raised his hand for calm. “No, no it’s not that time—yet, but you can bet your bottom dollar it is coming and soon, my boy. “Don’t be afraid, son, I only want to talk to you. I need a favor from you. Will you help me out?”

  Perhaps his tone or his words had won out because he seemed to have piqued the boy’s interest enough for Moses to look at him at least.

  “What do you want from me?”

  Louis slid across the floor to meet the child on the other side. “I’m sure you’ve heard what happened to Mathew the other day. I’m sure he talked to you about it.”

  Moses nodded.

  Louis glanced around the room…at his sanctuary. “My work here is far from finished.” He turned his full gaze and his magnificent blue eyes on Moses. “I’m soon to bring more boys here for you and Mathew to play with. I’ll be here as often as I can. Those mean guards will be here in shifts, but they will watch us 24 hours a day.”

  Moses nodded some more.

  “I need someone to look over our friends that are still to come. I want you to help me keep them safe from harm. I don’t want anything to happen to them…or you. Mathew could have died in that bathtub. And those stupid guards are just imbeciles carrying guns with those same weapons as their only solution for solving problems.”

  “I’ve seen them. I’ve seen those guns you’re talking about.”

  “They can’t be trusted.” Louis shook his head gravely. “I’m going to appoint you to be in charge of the other boys…the troops when I’m away. I’m looking for a man to be my strong right hand, my general.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  “You’ll learn, Moses. You’ll learn what to say them and when you should say it. You’ll know how to lead them—“

  “Lead them where?”

  Louis reached up and ran his fingers across through the boy’s close cropped hair on his head. It was intoxicating.

  You are so ours, my boy. I can almost taste you already.

  Louis shrugged off Hugh. “Darkness is coming to this sanctuary…to this compound like nothing you or I have ever seen. I’ll need you to lead the troops. Where you go they are most certain to follow.”

  “How am I supposed—??
?

  “How are you supposed to know?” Louis asked the question for young Moses. You just will. You are smarter than you know, Moses. You’re stronger than you’ll ever believe.”

  Moses slid up the bed and away from Louis and started crying. “I just want to be left alone. I just want to go home to my family.”

  So do we. “Like I said, Moses, I’ll be drafting others. They’ll soon be joining us.”

  “I don’t want—“

  “Listen,” Louis said in an elevated voice. Moses tears had rattled a nerve. “I need your full cooperation, Moses. I cannot accept a refusal. There is no time left for you to say no. Can’t you see…can’t you see that I won’t be able to fight him off much longer?”

  “Fight off whom, what are you talking about?”

  Louis abruptly got to his feet, smoothed out his jeans, and walked towards the only entrance/exit of the chamber. He turned back to Moses. “These children will cry for their mothers and that’s ok. They’ll be afraid of course, all new recruits are scared at first—“

  Moses said, “I’m afraid too. How can I help them if I’m scared also?”

  Louis turned to leave him there, but peeked over his left shoulder at him. “It’s ok if they cry sometimes.” He said as if Moses hadn’t spoken his last words. “There are some things we mustn’t allow: There must be no further suicide attempts. You know that suicide is a sin after all. More importantly, Moses is that your brothers in arms must not attempt to escape this place. If you do get outside of this compound nothing but death awaits you, I can promise you that.”

  Just as Louis opened to the door to the rest of the compound he heard Moses Stand up.

  “Why should they listen to me? I’m just a kid like they are.”

  Louis made himself smaller by placing his hands on his knees. “Because you are the chosen one…my chosen one, you are my General and my right hand. They’ll see how much I lean on you. And they’ll begin to trust you as you begin to trust me; just like they trusted Christopher Prince before

  “Why should I do this?”

  “I’ll give you my word that if you do cooperate…that I will never touch you.” What…what kind of fucking deal is that? You’ll be spared what I have in store for the others.” Louis held up his fingers like a boy scout.

  Moses looked doubtful. “I don’t know that you were ever a scout.”

  Louis couldn’t help but to laugh. “You don’t actually. That is a fair point.” He wiped spittle from his lip. “You only have my word, Moses, man to man. We can’t fail here. Failure is not an option from this point forward. The cost to so many would be astronomical.”

  Moses nodded and Louis knew he had his general at last. “I understand what the word failure means. My nana has apologized to me and my brother and sister more than once. She said that she was a failure for how she raised my mamma. My nana told me that we children were paying a high price everyday of our lives.”

  And your nana’s failures and your mother’s drug addiction led you directly into our arms. Her failure may lead you to your death.

  Louis tried to tune out Hugh while he listened to this special child that he had chosen so very well. It broke his heart to hear the little man speak like this. He called for the guards to escort him back to the holding area with Mathew. When they were out of site at last he turned around—

  And found Serena Tennyson standing not five feet from his position.

  He tried to mask the fact that she startled him, but the blotch of urine surely showing on his jeans surely betrayed that fact by now.

  She said, “And who will pay the price for my failures I wonder?”

  We told you that the Dragon Woman spies on us. She doesn’t trust us for one minute. We say that we should kill her…right now. We should kill the Dragon Woman and be done with it.

  “Serena,” He said aloud in a sheepish tone. “You look well and refreshed. I’m glad that you joined us. Say hello to Moses Jackson.”

  Serena spoke to the boy without smiling. “He’s your general.” She waved her hand at the guards just the opposite side of the room from her for them to take the boy back to the holding area.

  “How are you today?” She asked when Moses was gone.

  “I’m fine.” He lied and looked to steer any conversation away from his mental state. “I’ve chosen each of these children specifically. I did this on my own. Shouldn’t I be allowed to speak to speak to them every now and then without disruption?”

  Serena smoothed out the pants leg of her suit, sat down, and crossed one leg over the other. “Of course you should communicate with them. I certainly don’t have a problem with that.” And although she oversaw the construction of this compound she seemed to pay close attention to this particular chamber where Moses had vacated. “You called all of your prospects special children, but I sense something more when you speak about this Moses child.”

  Louis smiled a little. “He is more than just special, Serena. He is extraordinary.”

  Serena’s brown eyes borrowed into his ocean blues. “Is he as extraordinary as Christopher Prince was?”

  “He is a lot like Christopher, yes.” He has said neutrally hoping the conversation would end right here.

  “He served as your first general?”

  “Serena, you know all of this already.” He said. She flashed him a look that said, tell me the story again.

  Dr. Angel Hicks-Dupree had been more than a competent Psychologist. She probably came the closest of any of the professionals that he’d seen over the many years, who truly understood his nature. Dr. Dupree-Hicks…that rhymes with licks; But Serena Tennyson was beyond methodical in her approach to everything…and that included him. That’s we won’t truly be safe until the Dragon Woman is a corpse. Do it now, Coward. The guards won’t reach this point in time.

  “Chris served my needs well, Serena. He kept those children safe…and quiet for the most part. And after what Mathew pulled yesterday…I need him to grow into this roll expeditiously.”

  “Any yet, after Chris escaped you the rest of if ended poorly.” Serena stayed on subject.

  Our business usually does, Dragon Woman. You’ll find out soon enough if you don’t let us alone. “It did.” And it comforted him somehow to say it aloud. “Caretaker ordered the other boys killed after Chris escaped. He was frightened that Chris would lead the authorities back to the compound, back to Pandora.”

  “He could have simply moved the operation.”

  “The operation was near the bottom of list of concerns. His identity was endangered.”

  “You’re right, of course, Louis.” Serena got up off of the bed and ran a smooth palm across his cheek. “You’ve grown so much since then…since 411 even. I’m more confident than ever that you will persevere.” She opened the door and took her turn at exiting—

  “Then my I ask why you continue to spy on me?”

  “I prefer to call them ‘simple observations.” Serena replied. “You shouldn’t overly concern yourself with it or allow it to affect your work here.”

  “I call it spying.”

  “Call it what you will.” Serena said in a voice that was ice cold. “As long as you understand that these simple observations will continue from time to time. Caretaker was nearly a god in my eyes. But the one mistake he made was allowing you too much time and space in completing your work. He lost his entire operation over it. The match that started the fire between ours and theirs should have been struck right then. Pandora would have crushed a House in Chains 30 years ago.” Serena’s tone almost became apologetic. “I won’t repeat his mistake here. There is so much more at stake now. There is so much more than you will ever realize. I don’t want have to summon up the Whirlwind.

  Louis gave up his argument…for now. “As you’ve said before, I’ve passed every test so far. And as I’ve said before, I won’t fail you.”

  “You’ve succeeded on so many levels, already, Louis. Look at this place: We’ve engineered this compound based on
the specifications of models and designs of your ideas. You chose the location. It’s a brilliant sanctuary.” Serena said. “You should remain undisturbed from outside forces while you continue your work here. No one will find this location.”

  “That is why Moses role is so critical. The others must not attempt to escape. It’s at least ten miles in any direction towards civilization once you leave this compound. Death awaits them outside these grounds. I need them to remain safe and secluded long after your people leave us after this Whirlwind of yours takes hold. That is why Moses is so important. I don’t care what they think about me if they trust Moses, it improves their chances of survival.”

  Serena smiled at him.

  And just as suddenly he began to tear up before the smile faded…possibly forever. Serena flashed him a look of mild concern. He began to feel a trembling in his shoulders…and when she reached for him, he shied away from her touch. We are so weak and pathetic.

  “What is it, Louis?” She asked him. “What’s wrong?”

  Louis got himself together and said: “For a moment, when you smiled, your facial expression reminded me of my mother.”

  “Really,” Serena’s new expression showed that she was trapped somewhere between fascination and annoyance. No woman in her 40’s, no matter how hard, wants to be compared to nearly 60 year old man’s mother. “Why do you say this?”

  “It’s just a look, a facial expression.” Louis said again. “My mother loved me, Serena, of this I have no doubt, but her approval was often difficult to come by. Yet, every so often I would complete a task that pleased her.”

  Serena took a step closer. She was the leader of Pandora which meant that she knew all of Louis Keaton’s dirty little secrets. If she didn’t know every detail she had to be aware of the overtures of his life.

  “Louis,” She said, “Why did you mother allow her brother to molest you?”

  So the Dragon Woman does not see and know all. Yet, it was a straightforward enough question. It was one that he knew that this woman and her methodical nature would bring up time and again so why not answer her now. Leave us alone, bitch. Hugh fought reliving this tale again. It was his tale for the most part after all, Louis only had a secondary role…and it came a little later.

  “I don’t have a simple explanation for it. I’m sure you studied Dr. Angel Hicks-Dupree’s notes.”

  “I have at that. Her notes inform me of how your situation concluded. I’ve never understood how your life evolved before that point. But this isn’t mere curiosity on my part. I want to compete all the work that all of your past doctors, including Angel, who treated you. I want to help you.”

  No…you want to manipulate us into completing you bidding, you bitch.

  “My mother and I were very poor. She had me when she was 15.We traveled from place to place around western Tennessee, Missouri and Arkansas never staying in one residence or place for very long. Mom was a border line alcoholic. Either the booze, or showing up late because of the boozing, or not having adequate transportation cost her job after job.” Louis was amazed at how it still broke his heart to tell this tale of yesterday. “After many struggles my mother took to shacking up with anyone who would take us in. Like I said, Serena, we were very poor. She didn’t have much to offer anyone who we lived with.”

  “So your mother sold her sex to these men to keep a roof over both of your heads.” Serena looked as if she would be ill.

  “Yes.”

  “Go on, Louis, tell me the rest.”

  Louis exhaled deeply. “A few of the men were pleasant enough. I remember that one or two of them actually treated me with some kindness. They’d take me hunting or fishing or would play baseball with me during the summer months.”

  “Did any of them touch you?”

  “No.” Louis said and thought that his revelation surprised her. “It wasn’t like that at all…and my mother satisfied their needs well enough.”

  “What went wrong?”

  “Like I’ve told you, I was treated well for the most part by all these different men.” He felt his teeth chattering. “Mom wasn’t so fortunate. Several of these men slapped her around pretty good. One man in particular was brutal to her. Every three or four days I would walk home from school and see fresh bruises on her face or arms or on her back. She was a strong woman who rarely showed emotion, even during those difficult times. But there were a couple times that I saw her emotionally break down. I would get angry enough to launch myself at these men and fight them. But I was always too little…to weak and pathetic.”

  “And this Uncle of yours,” Serena wanted to get to the desert without eating the entire meal first. “What finally led you to her brother’s place?”

  Louis swallowed hard. “We moved in with him just before school started when things went very badly at our previous place. My mom spent three weeks in a county hospital after our last landlord split her head open with a wrench over his dinner being burned.”

  “Bless the Dragon’s flames.”

  “My Uncle reluctantly took us in. Mom was so happy to be back in her childhood home of Memphis, Tennessee however. And she had learned her lessons about the boozing. She quit drinking and found a job…a good job a few weeks later. The jobsite was actually within walking distance of my Uncle’s place. Life was good for a while. I even made a friend. Up into that point, he was the most important person ever to come into my life.”

  “And then,”

  “My Uncle learned what Mom was making down at the factory. He kept raising the cost of our rent until he nearly broke her.” Louis said with bitterness. “Mom finally told him that she had nothing else to offer him but he disagreed. He kept gawking at me with a wide grin on his grill when he said this.”

  Serena wrinkled her nose. “He asked for you as payment.”

  “That’s what he told her. That’s what he demanded.”

  “And your mother just…gave you to him.” Serena’s disgusted tone had returned in full glory. “She gave you up just like that.”

  Waterfalls of tears fell from the ocean blues of Louis Keaton’s eyes. “Don’t you judge her.” He pointed his finger at her as he did when he learned actual children of color were in the Andrew Young Center when he detonated the bomb that took so many lives weeks ago now. He did not retract it this time however. “What other choice did she have? She was making good money, but not enough to afford the high priced housing near the plant. Her earlier boozing had cost her any chance of being issued a license to drive ever again. This job was a good one. And she was trying to save for a place of our own, but my Uncle’s pillaging of her wages spoiled that—“

  “What kind of woman willingly gives her child to a pedophile?”

  And so Louis grabbed Serena.

  He had her throat in his grip before his conscious mind realized it. He slammed her head against the wall and heard her men enter the area locking their weapons on him. We told you your time was coming bitch. We told you. He’d made such a terrible mistake, but there was no way of backing out of this now. He’d let himself down. But more importantly, he let those two boys down…especially Moses Jackson. Right after Serena’s men disposed of him; they would kill both of those boys before his body even cooled.

  Serena tried to unhand his fierce grip on her long neck and throat with one hand, while waving her men…away with the other.

  “Stand down,” She somehow managed. “Everything…is…under control, isn’t it, Louis?”

  Louis peered back and forward from Serena Tennyson in his grip, to the four semi-automatic weapons trained at his skull, to the room where the two boys were being secured.

  He loosened his grip on her neck and said, “My mom had taken care of the two of us long enough, Serena.” He continued his story as if it had never been interrupted. “It was simply my turn is all. She could keep her job at the plant. I could stay in a school that I liked. And I could keep my special friend.”

  He released Serena completely and waited on her men to k
ill him where he stood. Again, Serena waved them off while she coughed and struggled to catch her breath again. She seemed to get her equilibrium under her at last. Still, Louis began to countdown how many second he had left in his life. He had always heard that people saw flashes of light before they died.

  Louis was seeing numbers.

  “What did your mother do…while…this payment went on?” Serena said returning to full height. She straightened out her suit. “What did she do when you Uncle molested you?”

  Louis Keaton’s tears fell readily now. “She made him do it when she was home. I don’t know, maybe she felt as if she could monitor it somehow. We never talked about it.” Louis paused for a long time and wiped his tears away. “But I do remember that between my uncle’s bouts of heavy breathing and grunting that I could hear my Mom’s cries that were so loud that it would often drown out my own.”

  And so Louis told Serena the rest.

  He told her about a boy named Louis…how the most important person he’d ever met came into his life—and just as abruptly abandoned it.

  He told her about how his fear of helicopters had come.

  And when he was done at last he said, “I’ve never asked anyone to cry for me.”

  Serena Tennyson did not cry…though that nearly was the case. She got her cell out instead and hit the speed dial of a woman who was always dressed for death and all in black.

  “Rohm,” Serena said in a commanding tone. “Pack your bags. I have a job for you to do.”

  Episode 4 Past Prologue