Show and Tell Read online

  No more. This time, Kelvin would get the credit. Kelvin would be a hero. Sure, he'd have to bend the rules a bit, but the world celebrated shades of gray. It'd be worth stepping up to help kids, put away a bad guy, and line his pocket at the same time. This time Kelvin would get everything he deserved and more. Win-win, all the way around. Well, except for the nasty-ass guest he expected anytime.

  The intercom buzzed. Kelvin had a tiny office space in the first floor of a converted warehouse. They hadn't yet turned on the AC, so he ran the overhead fan on high. It squealed and wobbled and he prayed it wouldn't unscrew itself from the ceiling. Part of the rent included a receptionist to serve the entire building, but she apparently had stepped away. Kelvin pressed the button to answer.

  "It's me, Sunny. Open up."

  He smiled, and pushed the release. "Come on in. He's not here yet."

  Sunny Babcock sashayed into the tiny office, her neon orange hair in a ponytail, and pulled up one of the rolling chairs. She folded her lithe figure into it. "Tell me again why you don't have the cops staking out this place? They've searched for this guy for six months."

  "Don't ask questions. That's the deal." He came around the desk and balanced his narrow butt on the edge. "I'm paying you good money to do as you're told, Sunny. Already gave you the background on this and paid up front. And there'll be a whole lot more, a huge bonus, when we pull this off. So don't second guess."

  He'd been Sunny's defense attorney on some minor brush-ups with the law over the years. They'd gone to high school together, and later both got into tattoos and hunting at the same time. He'd lost his taste for hunting, but not tattoos, or Sunny. They had a history, and Kelvin had intimate knowledge of one of Sunny's illegal passions. That's why he needed her in on this. It also gave him more leverage to keep her leashed.

  "Fine. You pay, I'll play." She narrowed her sky blue eyes. "I'm already on the inside, but you have to promise I walk away clean. These folks don't take kindly to informants. I need enough to disappear after."

  "Sure, Sunny. I need your eyes and ears letting me know the exact time and place for the meet. We need to catch them in the act, not too early or too late. Can't be like last time, where all the witnesses protected each other. And if you hear even a hint that something could derail this, squash it flat." She'd helped him out as a freelance investigator in the past, but he'd never before had so much riding on a case. "You vouch for me, and get me on the inside." For once, his biker tats and low profile would work to his advantage. "Once the event's a go, there's no turning back. I'll call it in, give you the high sign. Get the hell out of Dodge before the cavalry arrives."

  "You sure you got the stones for it? Takes more than my say, Kelvin. If you want to be more than a spectator, it'll take more than money. Give them something that's, shall we say, indicative of your intentions."

  "Like what?"

  "I'll set up intros, and as good faith, you deliver some bait." Her brows knit at his expression. "Don't ask. You know exactly what I mean. You won't keep your hands clean on this one. To catch a fish and especially monster whales, you need bait." She nodded. "That's how you play your part to prove you're serious. Sooner rather than later, too."

  Damn. He smoothed his shaved head, stood and walked back around the desk so she wouldn't see his expression. Nothing for it, though. If it would put a stop to everything, then a bit of sacrifice would be necessary. The buzzer sounded again.

  This time the receptionist announced the visitor. "Doctor Gerald Baumgarten to see you."

  Sunny stood, and Kelvin straightened and buttoned his coat. "Yes, send him in." Kelvin walked to the door, opened it and kept his face carefully neutral.

  The Doctor stood so tall he had to duck to miss the ceiling fan. He wore a floor length bat-black cowboy duster that turned his pale face and silver hair ghostly. His expression didn't change as flat gray eyes scanned the cramped space, flicking over and dismissing Sunny until finally lighting on Kelvin.

  A chill raised gooseflesh, but Kelvin didn't react. He closed the door and motioned to an empty chair. "I'm Kelvin Quincy. This is Sunny Babcock, my associate. An honor to meet you, sir. We've heard a lot about you." He stuck out his hand.

  The doctor stared at the hand, and took a seat without shaking. "What?"

  Kelvin glanced at Sunny. "Excuse me?" Kelvin hurried to the chair behind the desk and urged Sunny to sit. She shook her head, and instead leaned against the wall, pursing her lips and watching.

  "What have you heard about me, Kelvin Quincy? You said a lot.”

  Sunny started to say something but the Doctor cut her off.

  “I know you. From TV. Hog Heaven, episode 21 and 27, Sunny "The Babe" Babcock and her handsome hounds." He cocked his head. "Where are your handsome hounds?" He swiveled his chair to include Kelvin. "Do you have handsome hounds, too?"

  His monotone voice and metallic eyes gave Kelvin the creeps. "Uhm, well I have one dog. A big guy, but he wouldn't hurt a flea."

  "Dogs don't hurt fleas, fleas hurt dogs. They bite dogs, the flea saliva makes allergic dogs itch and they carry tapeworms, ehrlichiosis, babesiosis, Lyme disease, Rocky Mountain spotted fever, and plague." He paused. "Dogs hurt dogs, too. In fights. You know about dogfights? I need a dogfight, people who fight dogs. Bad people, but useful. You will connect me with these bad people. That's the deal we make today."

  Kelvin opened his mouth, closed it, and indicated Sunny should take the lead. She stepped forward. "Gerald, I can—"

  "Doctor. I am Doctor Baumgarten. You will show me respect, Sunny "The Babe" Babcock." His voice didn't change, but his weird silver eyes made her flinch.

  It took a lot to make Sunny flinch. For the first time, Kelvin noticed the gun peeking out from beneath the Doctor's coat, and understood why he wore the duster in this decidedly off-season warm weather.

  "Sure, sorry about that, Doctor." Sunny smiled.

  She managed to sound pleasant, but that didn’t fool Kelvin. He knew her background, knew she hid her feelings instinctively—hard lessons learned as a teen from her bastard of a father—but Kelvin knew her tells. She flexed her fingers, full lips flattened, and the muscle in her jaw twitched. She’d better keep that temper of hers in check.

  "I know dogfights, Doctor,” she said. “There's a convention, a really big one, in a few days."

  "A few? Definition: several or many or three. A couple means two or several. You said, a few days. How many days, exactly?"

  Before she could respond and possibly blow the deal, Kelvin interjected. "Six days. This weekend. If this damn weather holds."

  "Bad words. Lazy language." The Doctor stood up, his coat flapping, and reached for the gun.

  "Oh shit...I mean, shoot. Sorry, that slipped out. Please. I'm sorry." Kelvin held out his palms in a conciliatory gesture. "You're right, no cursing, that's not polite. Doctor, please sit down. My apologies."

  Kelvin pulled out a handkerchief, monogrammed to match his French cuffs, and mopped his brow. This loose cannon needed to be taken off the streets, for sure. He debated abandoning the plan and calling the cops for half a second, but couldn't let go of the glory he'd gain for bringing down everything this "doctor" stood for.

  “Six days." The Doctor left the gun holstered but didn't sit. "Plans made cannot be un-made. I pay you to give me the time and place. Nothing must stop this event. My associates will attend this event to prepare delivering miracle medicine for many children." He paced. "I promised Mother to continue our important work. A promise made cannot be un-made." He stopped pacing. "Promise: a declaration or assurance that one will do a particular thing or that a particular thing will happen."

  Kelvin knew that the freak blizzard last November hadn't stopped the Doctor’s Rebirth Gathering, either. They'd caught his mother, the brains behind the outfit, he'd always believed, but the Doctor got away. Kelvin could call the cops now but they'd take the credit. No, better to be patient and spring the trap later so they’d catch both the Doctor and his entire drug crew.
That would make anyone's career, and show the bozos in Heartland they'd snubbed him for the last time. Now Kelvin had baited the trap, and he needed to lure the Doctor the rest of the way in before slamming the door.

  "I'll find out the time and the place." Sunny licked her teeth. "How much?"

  Damn it, why can’t she keep her mouth shut? "I'll take care of you, Sunny. This deal is between me and the Doctor."

  The tall ghost-man stuck his hands in the pockets of the long coat, and pulled out a banded stack of bills from each. "First payment." He tossed a bundle first to Kelvin and then Sunny. "Another when you give me time and place. And final payment when our work is successful and I'm far far far away."

  "Holy Jes—" Sunny clamped her mouth shut before finishing the oath.

  Kelvin experienced the same surprised delight. A hundred-dollar bill on each side sandwiched the inch-thick bundle. He'd finally get out of this shit-hole of an office. But he didn't dare say that aloud. "It's a deal." He stuck out his hand again.

  The Doctor stared. "Germs on hands make people sick. Do you want to make me sick?"

  "No, of course not." Kelvin dropped his hand.

  "That's good. You now will make me a promise. That's a written or oral declaration given in exchange for something of value that binds the maker to do, or forbear from, a certain specific act and gives to the person to whom the declaration is made the right to expect and enforce performance or forbearance." The Doctor paused. "Repeat after me: I promise, Doctor."

  Kelvin shrugged. "Okay, I promise." Kelvin held one hand behind his back, crossing his fingers like a scared kid. He smiled, faking confidence but sweat trickled down his neck.

  "That's good." The Doctor turned to Sunny. "Now you say it, Sunny "The Babe" Babcock. Say, I promise, Doctor."

  She didn't hesitate. "Yeah, whatever. I promise Doctor." But she didn't look up. She instead busily counted her stack.

  "Promise made cannot be un-made. Make it happen." For a moment, the Doctor's face creased into a forced but practiced smile, one he clearly intended to put people at ease.

  Instead, it gave Kelvin more chills than the gun's presence.

  Chapter 3

  September carried the pot of coffee to the stained glass table, topped off her own "son-of-a-peach" mug, and poured Claire another cup.

  The woman offered a tremulous smile, pushed black curly hair out of her blue eyes, and took a sip. Shadow nudged her with his nose, and Claire tentatively patted his head. "You’d think he’s mean with that scary ragged ear, but he's actually nice." She sounded surprised.

  "Shadow and I consider that a badge of honor." The gunshot that took Shadow's ear tip could have killed her instead. Shadow had every reason to be suspicious of strangers, yet he still met the world with wide-eyed puppy optimism. She shouldn't be surprised he'd responded to Claire's tears the same way he did hers. Dogs read and reacted to emotions much more strongly than people imagined. Shadow had a gift for knowing when and how to soothe distress.

  "Thanks for not calling the police." Claire stopped petting Shadow, and he whined and nosed her hand.

  "It’s only a reprieve, until you tell me what this is all about." September took another swallow. Something told her she needed to get fully caffeinated to meet this day.

  "I drove straight through the night, thank God the roads were good this time. So tired, I'm not thinking straight, or I never would've come into your home. I've never done anything like that before." Claire's swollen eyes must have cried miles of tears. She suffered from terminal bed head, endearing on a youngster but tragic on an adult. The constellation of freckles dusting her nose and cheeks stood out in stark contrast to a ghost-pale complexion born of weeks of worry. "There's a lot of things I've never done before. Things change when you have kids." The words were bittersweet.

  "You got that right." September rose and crossed to Shadow's food bowl. So many things these days reminded her of Steven, her sister's autistic son. She'd first trained Shadow to be Steven's service dog. Legally, she had no kids, other than the four-legged wonders she lived with. And she liked it that way.

  Shadow rose, shook himself, and eagerly headed to the filled dish September set on the floor. "Must be pretty important to drive from Chicago to break into my house. What's the deal?" She opened a drawer, took out a bottle of pills and rattled it, and Macy appeared in the stairway. "Don't mind me, I need to feed and medicate the troops."

  Claire stared as the shaggy twenty-pound feline gave her a cursory once over, pointedly ignored her further, and leaped from a standing start to the top of the refrigerator. "Like I said, I tried to call you. Left a bunch of messages since last November, and never got an answer."

  September froze. So, that's what this was about. "Macy, pill time. Open." The cat obligingly opened his mouth to accept the tiny pill. September made a "click" sound with her tongue, and Macy trilled with eagerness for the treat reward.

  "Did that cat just. . .? Never mind." Claire turned away, swallowed a slug of coffee, and then studied the empty cup as though it held answers to the universe. "My daughter Tracy just turned six. She's autistic."

  Like Steven. "I can't help you." She'd put that horror behind her, and wanted no reminders. Besides, it was a police matter now. September filled Macy's bowl with food, and set it on top of the refrigerator out of dog nose-sniffing range.

  "My husband and I, we prayed for a miracle. And we got it."

  "Claire, I can't help you." She stared into the sink, refused to turn around. Her sister April prayed for that same miracle for Steven, and it nearly got them both killed.

  "They took all our savings; we'll lose our house. Maybe our marriage." She knuckled her eyes, and her voice turned fierce. "But it's all worth it because we got our Tracy. Our little girl."

  September finally faced Claire. "But that has nothing to do with me. Don't you understand? I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do, even if I wanted to." September resented Claire's stinging litany. "My sister pulled me into that mess. Steven got out of the hospital, the psych ward, last month, and April's still recovering from being shot." September crossed to the smaller woman, and spoke with gentle firmness. "People died, Claire. I'm sorry about your daughter, but Tracy isn't the only one hurt, and I can't go back in time and make it go away. Believe me, I wish I could. At least the people responsible are in jail." She took a breath, knowing what Claire wanted. "There's no more medicine."

  "You're wrong." Claire straightened in her chair, and pushed the cup aside. "Not everyone is in jail. That's why I'm here. Those of us at the last Rebirth Gathering got a supply of the medicine, and a promise we'd get refills as needed. We get the medicine every six weeks by mail as long as we pay." She sounded bitter.

  The news hit September like a gut punch. "The Ghost? Gerald Baumgarten? He's still selling that poison?"

  "DOCTOR Baumgarten." Claire corrected her, still defending the lunatic. "It's not poison. He saved my daughter, and hundreds like her, from being locked inside themselves. I'll be forever grateful for that. He says the cost went up because he had to go underground." Her chin jutted out with accusation.

  Shadow leaned against September’s thigh, and she absently stroked the dog's neck. He could tell when her stress levels skyrocketed, and right now, Mt. Vesuvius was a sparkler in comparison.

  Claire's voice shook. "Three nights ago, Tracy disappeared, and it's your fault."

  September’s legs turned to Jell-O. Another child lost, needing to be found? She couldn't play that emotional hide and seek game, not again.

  "I can't call the police. They'd take Tracy away. They only care about catching the Doctor. They'd be like you. Prejudiced because of what happened, never mind our children's needs. I can't let that happen, not to Tracy, not to any of the kids." Claire clenched her fists, clearly struggling for control.

  Shadow whined and pushed against September. "I'm sorry, I truly am. But you're wasting time. How could a six-year-old get all the way here from Chicago?" She'd escaped that city near
ly a decade ago, and would never willingly return. Bad enough she visited the place in her nightmares. She’d never move forward as long as the past kept dragging her back. Her mouth turned sour, signaling an imminent flashback, and September sank to the floor and opened her arms to Shadow's insistent nudging. She grabbed him like a furry life preserver.

  "Tracy came here. Where it all began." Claire sank to the floor next to September, and spoke with a mother’s passion, begging for her child's life. "Soon as we discovered her gone, I called my friend Elaine. Her son Lenny also got the treatment last November, and he disappeared the same time. We think they’re together."

  It made no sense. "Kids on the Spectrum often wander. You can't know they're here." That's why she'd originally trained Shadow, to keep Steven safe. Shadow only became her service dog when Steven spent months in the hospital after the drug fiasco. "Just call the police. You wouldn't need to say anything about their meds."

  "Lenny took Elaine's van. We know they're on the road, and we know they planned to come here." She pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket, smoothed it, and handed it to September. "I don't know why they're here, but Lenny left this note."

  September reluctantly took the page, torn none too neatly from a spiral bound notepad, and smoothed it against the slate floor. It featured a beautifully rendered drawing with a few block letters. She saw a van traveling on a road, complete with patched tires and rust spots. A boy with short brown hair sat in the driver's seat, while a pretty girl with freckles and black pigtails peered out the passenger window, holding a green dinosaur in one hand and pill bottle filled with blue and white capsules in the other. The detail amazed her.