The Unrequited Ch. 25

"Hey, weren't you supposed to meet Doug now? Maybe you should call him." Zeke asked.

Nodding, Father Aviles dialed the number but he too got a message. "No answer. I just hope and pray that he is alright."

"He's dead." Jasmine answered. " I know it; I can sense it. He is dead."

"And if the police do not find the killers, we may be next!" Zeke exclaimed as he whipped out his phone.

"Who are you calling?" Jasmine asked.

"The cops. It is obvious that Doug, as well as all of us, are in danger. I do not know why or how this is all related, but I do not believe in coincidences. Everyone having any dealings with that fateful night at Magnolia Grove is now either dead, missing, or in this room right now."

Back at the hospital, the Chief ordered the floor where Lorraine was recuperating sealed off to reporters. Time was now up and he knew it, but he still had a few trump cards to play. News of the additional murders out in the swamps had the newscasters in a feeding frenzy, and feeling like he was swimming out in the shark infested Gulf in a speedo made of chum, the chief kept repeating "No Comment" as question after question was blasted into his direction.

"Is it true that the attackers of Mrs. Clearwater were killed by her but their bodies are missing?"

"Have there been any DNA tests submitted for the blood found at the cemetery and the murder scene at the swamp?"

"Is it true that one of the attackers were using the disembodied face of Ed Clearwater to gain access to their home?"

Listing politely, but being notoriously tight lipped, the chief finally raised his hand and the crowd of reporters immediately settled. He grinned slightly as he knew he had a natural authority about his nature and these devilish scribblers and ambulance chasers automatically fell into line when they saw him raise his hand.

"I apologize for the lack of information available at this time. Be sure though that the NOPD has this case well in hand and every..."

Every head turned towards the stairwell as a blood curdling female scream echoed through the hospital. Feeling his face flush, the chief immediately barked commands into his radio as he cleared the lobby. "Everyone shelter in place, NOW!!!!"

Bursting through the heavy metal door of the stairs, the female screams grew only louder as the chief led several patrolmen up the stairs to the top floor. Reaching the top, he slowly cracked the door open and looked down the hall. The CCU ward was deserted except for one lone nurse, standing outside one of the rooms and shrieking uncontrollably.

"Ma'am! Ma'am!" he called out, trying to get her attention. Getting no response, he motioned to the others to follow him as he ran down the hall. Pushing the horrified nurse out of the way, he ran into Lorraine's room. Seeing the scene, even his crusty shell, hardened by years on the force cracked. Nothing he had ever seen before could have prepared him for the sight.

Mrs. Clearwater was dead, but beyond that, she had been eviscerated. Her head, like her husband's, had been removed from her body along with all four of her limbs. Blood coated every inch of the room and was still oozing from her torso, which was suspended from the ceiling by the various hoses and wires that had been ripped from her monitoring device.

Feeling nauseous by the sight, his heart ached. Whatever monster had perpetrated such a horrific crime in the middle of a busy hospital was obviously a powerful force to deal with. Committing such a crime while surrounded by a swarm of press and police was obviously beyond anything he had ever dealt with. Hearing the elevator doors opening and the press begin to swarm down the hall, the Chief yelled at the patrolman to seal off the floor. This could not be shown to the public, ever. If they knew what was involved, public pandemonium would make his job far far worse.

Back at Zeke's the three sat silently around the table and watched the news, now broadcasting live from the hospital. It was pure drama, and now was carried not only by the local news but by the national networks and cable outlets. CNN, MSNBC and FOX all had their top correspondents on the case and the talking heads were out in full force. On CNN, interviews were being held with detectives that had worked on the Charles Manson case back in the sixties. On MSNBC a panel was already discussing whether there was a racial overtone to the case and, due to the odd behavior of the police, whether a cover-up was in progress. On Fox, calls were already being made for the military to get involved, wild theories about a possible terrorist connection being central to the case. Watching all of this transpire, Father Aviles shook his head.

"They are all wrong, so very wrong. If only this was a simple gang murder, or police conspiracy, or terrorist act. If it were, it would be so much simpler. No, this is far worse."

His voice oddly calm, Zeke spoke, his normal cheerful tone now evaporated. "So Father, what do you think? Obviously you know something that we don't. What do you think should be done?"

Staring him straight in the eyes, Father Avile's icy blue stare chilled both Zeke and Jasmine. "You will find out as both of you have been drafted into this service. Sadly, this is no longer your choice, but the choice of The Lord."

Silence flooded the bar after he spoke as Zeke and Jasmine stared at one another in grim quiet determination. When he spoke again, Jasmine shivered. "I have a very important question to ask before we get started. Have both of you been baptized?"

Zeke raised his hand, a smile flickering over his face. "I have Father, back in fifty-eight. You should like the fact that I was a good altar boy, now relapsed, for a few decades."

Both turned to Jasmine who now gulped. Her large widening brown eyes told Father Aviles what he needed to know. Looking back at Zeke, he said "Well, I know the first place we need to go. We need to go to the Cathedral right now, and I assume I can count on you to drive us."