Chapter 12
The clatter of garbage can lids woke us. The dog barked once and skittered away. I stayed where I was until I heard the hiss of air brakes and broke out of the corner with visions of being squashed against the wall and the dumpster as the garbage truck hoisted it overhead to dump into its bin.
Startled the Asian who was emptying bags into metal garbage cans. He yelled in fright and jabbered at me. I followed the dog and he waited at the corner for me before heading for a row of abandoned warehouses that backed up to the river. The smell from the water was horrible.
Most were surrounded by a chain-link fence, the dog trotted along until he found a section torn apart and pulled back. He ducked through, turned and looked to see if I was following and kept going, heading straight for what looked like an old junkyard. Only all these vehicles were old scows, barges and boats.
“Hey,” I called. “I’m hungry. Any place around here where you can eat for free?”
He disappeared down the row over towards rusty steel cabin cruisers, some missing entire hulls and others burnt to bare skeletons. At the end of the lane was a construction trailer and the lights were on. The dog trotted right up to the door, scratched and pushed it open. It stayed open and no one came to investigate so I crept closer. Peeked in the windows and used the dog’s eyes to see inside.
Table with papers spread across it. Fluorescent lights overhead. A ratty couch covered with an old dog-haired blanket, a pillow case of dirty yellow, which had once been white. Cigarettes on the floor in an ashtray, Burns in the weak, thin carpeting. The bathroom was disgusting. Piss on the floor, the toilet seat and a huge turd floating in the bowl.
Iron stains in the toilet and on the tub. A ring that looked like it was eons old. I didn’t even like being inside as the dog. Nobody was in the one-room trailer. No kitchen, no fridge, not even a beer bottle on the floor but there was a phone hanging on the wall. I pushed the door open wider and climbed the four steps into the mean little trailer brushing against the dog. I picked up the phone and heard a dial tone. Called my house first. And someone picked it up on the first ring.
“Danny?” I didn’t recognize the voice so hung up, redialed to make sure I had the right number.
“Danny. Don’t hang up,” the man said. “This is Mitchell Gaines. We need you to tell us where you are.”
“Where’s my Dad?” I asked, recognizing his voice. Before I thought what I was saying, I blurted out, “you’re the one said my Dad was lying about being in Vermont! He was! I called him there, I know he was! My Dad loved my Mom! He would never hurt her!”
“Danny, we need you to come in and give us a statement so we can release him.”
“You arrested him?” I was shocked. “He didn’t do anything!”
“Where are you Danny? He’s terrified you’ll be hurt or worse, have another seizure, and no one will find you before it’s too late.”
I tried to reach his dog, Sassy, but she was asleep in her house, not with him.
“Where is he?”
“Police headquarters. I can send a car for you, Danny. Just tell me where you are.”
“Tell me what precinct,” I countered, and when he did, I hung up. Dialed information for the number and called.
“WMPD,” a bored voice said, “Precinct 20 – 77. How can I help you?”
“I want to talk to the Senator,” I said.
“Try the Senate,” he snickered.
“Senator De Rosier. You’re holding him for questioning. I’m his lawyer.”
“Yeah, you sound like you’re twelve years old,” he sneered.
“If you don’t give me answers, you dickhead,” I snapped, “I’ll hit you with US732.5, section 6 and you’ll need a Racehorse Haynes to keep you out of the poor house!”
“Okay, okay, Councilor. Keep your shirt on,” he put me on hold and I laughed. I’d told him I would sue him over a defecating dog on the sidewalk. He came back in five minutes, and sounded cautious.
“He’s in Interrogation with two Homicide Detectives. I can’t interrupt. Can you wait? They’ll be down in five more minutes, ten tops.”
“I’ll wait,” I decided.
“What’s your name?”
“Dan – Daniel Hillerman,” I used Dad’s chauffeur’s name since I was stupid enough to start saying my own.
“Okay. Hang on, then. I’ll put you on hold.” I heard the click and waited.
The dog came over and stuck his head under my hand so I petted him. Looked and saw that he was a she. “You got a name, Blue?” Of all the animals’ minds I’d been inside, not one thought of themselves as humans do, a sense of personal self, a name that identified themselves. No self-awareness, just a sense of belonging to a particular person or not. This Heeler cross did not have a sense of a master. I felt sad for her. She lifted her head to stare at the door. Barked and before I could get up to check, dudes in black riot gear were jumping in through the windows and door.
She yiked and ran under the table and as I turned to bolt, someone tackled me. I fought, knees and elbows and teeth, but made little progress against their Kevlar and tactical uniforms.
In thirty seconds, I was zip-tied hands and feet, flipped over on my stomach, my jeans pulled down so my ass hung out bare. I screamed. Felt a cool alcohol swipe and the bite of what felt like an enormous needle. Then, nothing.
*****
What’s the docs say? He safe to move? Rumble, rumble rumble.
Eyelids are flickering. He’s coming up. You’re going to give him another dose?
Whew. This kid bruises easily. Look at those black and blues.
BP is normal, pulse, respirations are fine. I hacked his medical records, he was on steroids, Elavil and Tramadol. See no reason to change that.
“Danny, can you hear me? Wake up, Danny.” Someone slapped my face. I swallowed. Thirsty. My arms hurt. My butt cheeks throbbed in the same spot, and I felt hot. I gagged as the movement of my head triggered nausea.
“Tummy upset?” His blue eyes stared at me and held a pink basin under my chin. I spewed, heaved until my ribs ached. Wiped my mouth on my sleeve.
I was in a room with padded walls, no windows, a cotton mattress coming out of the wall and the chair he was sitting in a toilet of stainless steel, minus its cover and a sink. The door was solid with tiny windows at eye height. “This is a prison cell,” I managed around the taste and smell of vomit.
“Yes.”
I smashed the basin into his face and ran for the door to find it locked. Kicked it, bounced off and turned to confront him, dripping with my mess on his hair, face and shirt front. He held his temper, but that I could see he was pissed.
“Danny, we can keep you drugged and tied up, you know.”
“You know who my Dad is? My girlfriend’s father? You’re in big trouble when they find out I'm missing. You better let me go.”
“Your Dad thinks you’ve been kidnapped, Danny. He’s waiting for a ransom note.”
“In jail?”
“He’s not in jail, Danny.”
“But I heard you –.”
“Yes, Danny. And we want to know how you hurt us.”
I shut my mouth and then, begged, “You can’t do that to my Dad, it’ll kill him. Not after he lost Mom!”
“It’s kinder to make the break once and final, Danny.”
I stared at him in horror. “Who are you people?”
“NSA.”
“You’re going to tell my Dad I’m dead?” I screamed and launched myself at him. He grabbed my fist, whirled me around and bear hugged me with my feet off the ground. I tried to smash the back of my head into his face, but he tucked his to the side and I whip-lashed myself.
The door slammed open and a bunch of other dudes ran into the room and tackled us both. I went down on the cot, smashed my head into the padded wall hard enough to see stars. Felt them stick me in the hip through my pants and rolled me over. Shooting pains went up my head and down my back. I blinked slowly as their faces revolved around me in slow tidal surges. I remember crying as if my heart was broken, and then nothing. I went under praying I wouldn’t wake up.