Highway Butcher – Chapter Eight

A/N: As a heads up, I’m currently in and out of exhaustion and fatigue flair-ups pretty frequently, as one of my girls has been sick for the last two months now and just had a feeding tube with that so far has just kind of been a host of problems, and the constant in and out at the vet wears me out pretty fast, so I’m not writing a ton. Which is why I spaced this chapter out from the others, so that you wouldn’t have to go several weeks or months without an update this time around. I have another completed chapter after this one and am working on chapter ten, which I’ll also plan on spacing out by a week or so until I get back on a big writing kick.**

NOT EDITED

Chapter Eight

10:30 AM; WEST LOS ANGELES POLICE DEPARTMENT, DETECTIVE DAVID QUINN’S DESK

David was doing anything and everything he could think of to keep his mind off last night, Bo, and the hospital. It wasn’t working, but nobody could fault him for trying.

Not for the first time since yesterday morning, David left a voicemail for the person who had found Jane Doe Two. He hadn’t gotten a straight answer on if he hadn’t remained on scene until police arrived or if the responding officers had let him leave instead of holding him or sending him to the station, but either way, David had never seen him or spoken to him about what he had seen before calling in the body.

It was unlikely the caller had seen anything other than an armless corpse. They rarely saw anything of genuine importance to finding the killer. But it was still an I to dot and a T to cross. Without it, any investigation he did would always be missing a piece, and years down the line, when the killer was caught and the case went to court, a damn good lawyer could use that missing piece to instill doubt in the jury.

And David sure as hell wouldn’t have any of that.

David lifted his head as a folder landed on his laptop’s keyboard. His eyes met Travis’s. “I am so not in the mood.”

Travis shrugged, dropped his ass into the chair in front of David’s desk. “Heard I’m not allowed to work the case anymore. Told I needed to hand over all information to you.”

“Kind of already should’ve been doing that, but thanks.”

“Since I didn’t lose my actual job, I can only assume you didn’t give Jamal any information about our chat. Appreciate it.”

“I didn’t do it for you. You’re not worth the headache it would’ve caused.”

Travis chuckled. “Still had him remove me from the case, though. Seems like a headache to me.”

David moved the manilla folder to the top of his evergrowing stack of paperwork. Anything to cover up the incident report of Bo’s morning adventure that he still needed to hand over to Jamal. “I told Pitman that I wouldn’t work the case anymore if you were on it. What he did with that information is his business.”

“You have an office, Travis. Stop loitering and bothering my detectives.”

Travis held up his hands, pleading his innocence as he stood up. “No harm, no foul, Chief. Just handing over the case file like you asked.”

“Mmhmm. You’re dismissed, then.”

Once Travis had walked away, David cleared his throat. “The incident and arrest report for Bo and Bridget’s ex are in there.” He jerked a thumb toward the pile of papers and folders, gaze staying on his laptop screen.

“Thank you.” Jamal sifted through the pile without question, pulling out the reports he needed. “Are you all right, David?”

“Yep.”

“You watched your best friend get stabbed thrice in the side and couldn’t do anything about it. It’s all right not to be fine.”

David shook his head. “Bo and Bridget got the short end of the stick. Just got a little elbow to the nose, myself. I’m fine.”

“Well, you’re far stronger than me, Detective. I was never okay when I had to watch something like that go down with one of my own.” Jamal gave his shoulder a tight squeeze. “If you decide you aren’t okay, you know where to find me, and where to find help.”

After a moment, David nodded. “Thanks, Chief.”

“Of course.”

David let him take all of two small steps away from his desk before managing to ask, “Is he okay?”

“He had his spleen removed.”

“Jesus,” David whispered. “God, I should’ve gotten out of the car. Soon as the fucker ran at him the first time. I shouldn’t have let it play out as long as I did.”

“David, it’s the first time Bo has been outside of that specific hotel room in over a month. It’s the first time he’s gone anywhere with you in even longer. If you had ignored him and gotten out of that car after he begged you not to, he would’ve lost every single drop of trust he has in you. He needs someone he can trust. He needs you being someone he can trust. You did the right thing, even if it doesn’t feel like it.” Jamal nodded toward his office. “I have a conference call to attend. But any time after noon, I’m free, if you were to need anything.”

“Thanks, Jamal. Really. Thank you.”

Jamal did that very Pitman-esque thing he’d always done, skimming his tongue over his top row of teeth, his eyes focused on the ceiling. David had never quite been able to pinpoint it. Nervousness, biting back a nasty comment, brushing off a thank you, ignoring a compliment, fighting off something else entirely. He had no idea. But the man had been doing it for as long as David had known him. “You’re welcome, Quinn.” He tapped the folder atop the paperwork stack. “Keep me posted.”

“I will, Chief.” As Jamal looked away, David looked back at his phone, just in case a call had miraculously come through while Travis or Jamal were holding his attention. Unsurprisingly, one had not.

David closed his laptop and pushed himself to his feet. He needed something to do. He’d start with the witness’s house and go from there.

11:59 AM; WEST LOS ANGELES POLICE DEPARTMENT, PARKING LOT

The 9-1-1 caller’s house had led David nowhere. No answer to the door, the curtains to the windows had all been drawn, there were no signs of forced entry or imminent danger to allow him to go inside and see if the man was home despite the lack of response. David had tried his place of work too, just in case, but the receptionist had said he was on vacation for the week, something that had apparently been planned for months and not an impromptu, unscheduled vacation post-corpse-sighting.

It was possible he’d had a flight to catch and hadn’t wanted to miss it for a police interview. David didn’t exactly blame him. But it still would have been nice for the guy to let someone know the best way to reach him. Or when the hell he’d be reachable.

David pushed open his car door, stopping mid-exit when his phone rang. He grabbed it from his pocket. Bridget. He pulled his leg back into the car and closed the door. “Please let everything be okay,” he whispered as he accepted the call. He pressed his phone to his ear. “Hey, Bridget. Everything good?”

“Yeah, just, umm, just left to give Renee and Denzel some time alone with him.” She laughed, light and airy. Barely there. “I came out to the snack machine, and I realized that… that I haven’t been allowed to use a snack machine in over six months.”

“I’m so sorry, Bridget.”

“I didn’t call you for that. It’s not like it’s your fault. I’m a detective. I used to work cases like this, you know? I-I knew all of the signs and all the red flags, and I ignored every single one. It’s not something you need to apologize for.” She cleared her throat. “I just wanted, uh, to let you know that he’s still mostly sedated. The nurse says he was real agitated coming out from the anesthesia, and the sedation is the safest thing for him right now. I wanted to know if you want me to call when he’s awake.”

“Umm…” David shifted in his seat. “I, uh, I’m not sure that I can… manage sitting in a hospital with him. I-I want to. I do. But I don’t think… that I can?” He cleared his throat. “I know that sounds horrible.”

“It doesn’t. Bo told me. I know why you don’t wanna be here. Nobody can blame you for that. That’s why I’m asking if you want to know or if there’s just certain stuff you want me to update you on. I’ll keep you posted, whether or not you can make it in.”

“Thank you, Bridget. Thank you.”

“You helped save my life this morning, David. The least I can do is keep you posted on when our friend is okay.”

David closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the seat. “If you could just text me when he’s awake and when you know more about when he’ll be released? I’ll be there to pick him up. H-he won’t like it, but he can stay with me. There’s no way in hell we’ll talk him into staying with one of his parents, but I think I can talk him into staying with me for at least a day or two.” 

“I’ll let you know when he’s up, then. I think he’ll be out of here as soon as they let him. Google said sometimes you go home the same day after a splenectomy.” He could hear tapping on her end of the line. Maybe she was still at the snack machine, drumming her fingers against the side. “I don’t know how that works if they have to… to do anything more, like… exploratory.”

“Let me know what goes.”

“I will.” A pause. A hell of a pause. “Thanks for helping him save me, David.”

“I wish we’d been able to sooner, sweetheart.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But still… thanks.”

David nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. “You’re welcome, Bridget. Anytime.”

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