Part 9 (1/2)
He pictured a slew of mentally drained doctors and nurses rotating in and out of the office, faces in their hands, m.u.f.fled voices amid the tears.
”Do you talk to a lot of cops?” Preston asked, cutting away from the image. ”I would think they'd have a lot to lay out on the table. They'd never tell their buddies down at the station, though.”
”Not many recently; mostly doctors,” she replied. ”Working here is pretty much a full-time job. I rarely see anyone else at my private practice any longer,” she said with a comforting smile. ”Still, I'm betting a man like yourself won't exactly be discussing this visit with your partner. Am I right?”
”Yes,” Preston admitted. ”I haven't found anything relevant to the case today. I don't think Jack would need to hear this anyway. I'm sure this type of stuff probably gets harder to contain when he goes home to his family at night.”
”Are you married?” she asked innocently.
”Divorced,” he said plainly, ”about a year and a half ago.”
”Long hours?” she asked, reaching for a pad of paper on the desk. ”Was that a contributing factor? Around here, the doctors have that same problem. I see it all the time.”
”No. She's a lawyer. We both knew the social contract going in. We had other problems.” His voice trailed into silence. ”Every day the two of us would go to work and the babysitter would take care of our daughter.”
”It's okay, Detective. Can I call you Preston?” After receiving a confirmatory nod, she continued, ”Preston, this is just an informal session, not an official inquiry or anything like that. You don't have to tell me anything you're not ready to, or if you want, we can just stop right now. I'm at your disposal.”
”I'm fine,” he said, clearing his throat. ”It's just that I don't even let my partner talk about this with me anymore. He was around when it happened, and I feel that after all the testimony the two of us had to go through, we never felt we had to discuss it again.”
”You mean you never felt you had to discuss it,” the doctor added with sincerity.
”Yeah,” Preston replied after a long pause. ”My partner, Jack, has been trying to get me over to visit his family again recently.” Preston settled into his seat, starting to feel uncomfortable.
”Are you close; with his family, I mean?” Shannon's voice was still calm and caring. Preston felt as if he were the only other person on earth, both of them living in a silent Eden, surrounded by screaming demons. Any moment, the door could burst open, flooding the room with the wails of the d.a.m.ned.
”We used to be. Both our families were, I mean,” he said, looking straight at her. ”About a year and a half ago, things changed.”
”Did something happen on the job? Business or personal?” she said, her pen at the ready.
”Both, actually,” he replied in kind. ”Before Bloodstrife hit the streets, I was investigating the drug traffic of large s.h.i.+pments of cocaine into Chicago. At the time, it was the longest, toughest case I had ever worked on. Now days, it seems like a cakewalk compared to Bloodstrife.” Preston was worried he might cave, succ.u.mbing to the residual memories of the screams from the way in.
”What happened next?” Shannon asked.
”I solved it,” Preston relayed with a restrained smile, remembering the moment it happened clearly. ”Jack and I tracked down the distribution center and busted it up. Almost everyone in there had priors, so they kept making deals, hemorrhaging information for later takedowns. Not to mention, it was a huge haul. I was on top of the world.”
Doctor Morrissey smiled along with Preston, glad to hear of his accomplishment. ”I bet you felt a similar feeling the other day with the Bloodstrife bust,” she said. ”It was all over the news.”
”Yeah, or rather I tried to feel good about it,” Preston said with emphasis. He could feel himself getting anxious and starting to overheat. Immediately, he rolled up his sleeves before continuing his story. ”You see, we busted up the factory, but some of the remaining cartel members wanted revenge, so they . . .” Again, his voice trailed off. He s.h.i.+fted in his seat, working up the strength to continue.
”It's okay, Preston, I'm listening.”
”They kidnapped and murdered our only daughter, Elisabeth.”
Dr. Morrissey's face welled up with genuine sympathy. She moved forward and grabbed Preston hands, while he held back tears. He took a deep breath and pulled himself back together.
”I can't imagine what that was like for you,” she said. ”What about your wife, or the babysitter? Were they taken as well?”
”No, my wife was at work, and when the perps broke into my house, they basically just took my daughter and ran. The babysitter was in another room and barely had time to get a good look at them,” Preston said, growing more emotional. ”It was just a normal day for us before that. We left Elisabeth with the babysitter. My wife was at the firm, and I was at the station, sifting through evidence and taking praise from every officer who pa.s.sed my desk. Jack and I were told we'd both be receiving promotions. It was the best day of my life until I got the call.”
”What about Jack's family?” Doctor Morrissey asked. ”Were they alright?”
”If there's one good thing that came out of this,” Preston said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, ”it's that, due to our busts and subsequent arrests, the organization was in total disarray within the city. They only had enough manpower and information gathering agents to take Elisabeth first. When we both found out she'd been taken, we sent half the force over to Jack's place and got his family into protective custody.”
”How old are his children? Are they young?”
”At the time, they were five and seven.” Preston's hands were shaking. ”The bad guys never got close, but Jack told me all those cops running around his house scared the h.e.l.l out of those kids, especially when their mother had found out why they were there. She was frantic.”
”Keep going,” Shannon said, having placed the pad of paper back on the desk. She was in control of her emotions, but let just enough of them s.h.i.+ne through to show Preston how much she cared.
”In the end, it was Jack who tracked them down. He was forced to kill two of them. He's a good detective. It only took him a day to find them. The last one survived and is rotting in prison indefinitely.” Preston cleared his throat and fidgeted in his seat again. ”G.o.d knows when he'll get out. But we were too late. Jack found my daughter's body at the scene and called it in.”
”Jesus,” she said, almost on the verge of tears herself.
”They shot her twice, once in the heart, once in the stomach.” Preston almost lost it, but managed to keep himself afloat. ”That's what ended my marriage,” Preston continued, looking down at the floor. ”Carol and I tried for a few months to keep it together, but in the end we just couldn't stand to look at one another any longer.” He looked up from the floor, tears clinging for dear life over the surface of his eyes. It was almost by sheer will that he managed to keep them from flowing down his face. ”Have you seen this before in other couples, Dr. Morrissey? I don't hate my ex-wife, and I'm sure she doesn't hate me, but I can't even look at her, or Jack's family for that matter.”
”Because it reminds you of what you lost,” she said.
”Yes, I don't think anything will change either,” Preston said, shutting his eyes and waiting for them to reabsorb the tears. Still closed, he kept going. ”For some reason, I can still work with Jack, no problem, but I just can't keep it together when I'm around the rest of them.”
”But, you see, Preston, that's the only way you'll be able to heal. Take Jack up on his invitation, visit the family. They miss you, I'm sure. If you don't hate your ex-wife, then bring her back into the picture a little while after you've adapted to the family again.”
”Easier said than done.” He shuddered, opening his eyes.
”You're right, it won't be easy, but that's what has to be done, both at work and home. Jack, Elisabeth, the Bloodstrife case, all of them are huge challenges that you'll eventually overcome. You need only put your mind and heart into it and before long you'll be back on top.”
Preston sighed again as he hid his face in his hands. He held it there for a short time before bringing his hands up and running them through his hair. His eyes were still red with tears, but none had managed to escape.
”You wanna know something else?” Preston said, ”I've been drawing things lately.”
”As a hobby?” the doctor asked.
”No. I only draw one thing,” Preston said. ”About four months ago, when strife first hit the streets, I thought I'd need a little pick me up.”
”Did you dabble with drugs?” the doctor asked. ”It's okay, this is completely confidential.”
”No,” Preston said, letting out a laugh and a sniffle. ”I took my daughter's photo to one of those age-enhancement places to get a picture of what she might look like a year and a half later. She was five and a half when she died. She'd be seven now. So, I keep trying to reproduce the picture they gave me, trying to make her look happier.”
”Has it helped any?” Shannon asked.
”No, not really,” he said flatly. ”All I do is draw in my free time. Just the other day I cleaned up my apartment because I figured Jack might make an unannounced visit. You should've seen the place. The drawings were everywhere.”
”Detective,” the doctor continued, ”if you'll let me, I'll be glad to help you on your way through this.”