Part 2
Johnny walked alongside
the patient as the man was wheeled into Treatment Room Three. Once inside, he
helped transfer the victim to the exam table, hanging the IV bag on a nearby
pole. Gage stood back as Doctor Early began his examination.
“You need me for anything, Doc?”
Joe glanced up. “No, go ahead.”
“Okay, see ya’,” the paramedic said as he stepped back. To the patient he
directed, “Take it easy, huh?”
As Johnny walked across the corridor to
Gage shrugged. “Huh. . .”
“What’s up?” Johnny asked, noticing the unsure expressions on his friends'
faces.
“Uh. . .”
“See me?” Johnny questioned, pointing at his chest. “Why?”
“Well, it. . .”
A young nurse stepped closer to Gage on her way past the trio, and placed her
hand on Johnny’s left shoulder.
“I’m so sorry to hear of your misfortune.”
The paramedic nodded slowly, as the woman removed her hand and carried on her
way. A puzzled expression was replaced by one of realization.
“She knows. . .I told you that drawing looked like me,” Johnny said, jabbing a
finger in his partner’s chest. “I knew it! Man, now what am I gonna do? Before
ya’ know it, everyone'll figure it out . . .and then what?” The man paused in
his rant and ran his right had through his hair. “Man, of all the--”
“Johnny,”
“It wasn’t?”
“Then how--”
“Your name was on the
Johnny’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping, at the nurse’s revelation. “My name?
On the news? On TV?"
Johnny stepped back and pointed in the direction of the waiting room. “On the
TV in there?”
“Uh huh.”
“How many nurses. . .”
“Quite a few of them, but don’t worry. Doctor Brackett got them settled down.”
“Settled down? And Brackett knows?” Johnny rested his elbows on the
desk, his face hidden in his hands. “Oh great.” Another realization coming over
him, Johnny lifted his head and gazed at
"Johnny, you heard Cap,"
Gage frowned. "Yeah. . .you're right. But who else would give them my
name? Who else would know. . ."
The paramedics’ eyes met when they both got the same idea.
"Yes, a tipster of some sort."
"It was her,
"Johnny, why don't you talk to Kel,"
“Yeah, I may as well get this over with,” Gage took in the somber expressions
of his friends, then slowly headed for Brackett’s office.
“You want me to come with you?”
The younger man shook his head. “No, I’ll be right back.”
Kel Brackett looked up from paperwork on his desk as Gage stepped into the
office.
“Hi, Johnny.”
“Hi,” came the solemn reply.
Brackett pushed his chair back from the desk and stood up, coming around to the
front. He leaned against it, folding his arms across his chest. “Judging by
your expression, I take it you know I saw the news report regarding what really
happened to you last week.”
“Yes,” mumbled the paramedic, his eyes on the floor.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
Johnny’s eyes met the doctor’s. “I did--”
“I mean, other than your partner.”
"Ah, geez, Doc, would you tell anyone else besides a close friend? Can you just see Chet Kelly with this kind of ammunition? He lives for this kinda crap to happen to me. It would have been spread faster than any fire you can imagine.”
“That may be so, but you have nothing to be ashamed of, Johnny.”
“I…I guess not, but it…as stupid as this sounds, I feel like I do.”
“Why?”
“I was beat up by a woman, for one thing. And for another, she took my clothes and left
me…well, you know how she left me. Hell,
by now, all of
“Johnny, I said this to
“I’m sure they’re gonna make it my problem.”
“Only if you let them.”
“Whatta’ ya’ mean?”
“Johnny, if this same thing had happened to a woman, no one would be laughing, or making jokes about it.”
“Yeah, but it didn’t happen to a woman. It happened to me – a guy, and a fireman at that.”
“Oh, so firefighters aren’t allowed to be the victims of a crime, is that it?”
“No, it’s just that…well, you know, there’s kind of an…image, that goes along with being a fireman.”
“A macho image, you mean?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Johnny, no matter how macho any man is, there are limitations to what a person can do when he’s attacked with a tire iron. You’re lucky you weren’t--”
“Killed. Yeah, I know. So I’ve been told about a dozen times.”
“Then take that to heart, and let the rest of this go. Obviously this Becker woman is in need of professional help.”
Johnny snorted. “Obviously.”
Brackett smiled. “I’d ask how you met her, but I don’t think I want to know.”
“
“Pardon?”
“
“
“Yeah. Pretty hard to believe, huh? That
“I’d guess
“No,” Johnny shook his head. “No, he didn’t. It’s not
“Yes, it was. And that’s what you have to remember over the next few days. I’m not going to lie to you and say the next forty-eight hours or so will be easy, but remember the old saying, this too shall pass.”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
Brackett pushed away from the desk and laid a hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “And remember the most important thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You got a lot of good friends, Johnny, and we’ll stand by you through this. Don’t let the people on the outside – the ones who don’t matter - get to you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Johnny nodded as he stood. “Thanks, Doc. I…thanks for taking the time to talk to me and all.”
The paramedic exited the office and met his partner in the hallway. Brackett stepped into the hall as well, and watched the two men walk out into darkness.
“So, how did it go?”
“Let’s put it this way, Dix, if nothing else I reminded Johnny that he has plenty of friends he can talk to if the next few days are stressful. As far as the rest goes, Johnny will have to come to terms with it on his own. I said what he needed to hear, but I’m not sure I completely convinced him that what I was saying is the truth.”
Brackett reached into his office to shut off
the light, while
On the way back to the station, the two paramedics discussed the situation.
“You know, we should’ve told Vince everything," DeSoto admitted. “I didn’t
really give it a lot of thought when it happened, but from what Dixie told me
Brackett said, there’s no excuse for not taking this more seriously.”
“
“Yeah, well, I don’t think that’s gonna be a choice anymore.”
Gage followed his partner’s gaze and saw Lieutenant Crockett standing in the
apparatus bay with Captain Stanley. As the blond paramedic pulled the squad
around to back into the station, Johnny buried his face in his hands on the
dash.
“Why did I ever have to meet Mary Jane Becker?” He moaned.
DeSoto kept his mouth shut. Now was not the time to remind the younger man that
he was the one had who fixed him up with her.
"Johnny?"
Gage hadn't realized the squad had stopped, and the engine was now off. He picked
up his head from his hands and looked at his partner.
"Might as well face the music, huh? Can't get any worse than
this." Johnny got out of the squad
and slammed the door in frustration.
His uncharacteristic action startled the few that were assembled in the
apparatus bay. Walking around the front of the squad, Johnny could feel his
heart racing and he broke out in a cold sweat. Why me? he wondered not
for the first time this shift.
Johnny stopped several feet from his captain and Crockett, unsure that he could
go through this again. Brackett's words echoed in his mind as he stared at the
floor. He knew the doctor was right. This was not his fault. He was the
victim, but why did it feel as if it were his fault?
"Yeah,
"Yes, you can. C'mon."
Crockett and Stanley had said nothing. They had simply stood where they were
and watched the internal struggle being played out before them, each man
wondering how he would feel if he were Gage at this moment. Hank
"
"Cap," replied
"Gage. DeSoto."
"Lieutenant,"
"I suppose you know why I'm here."
Gage nodded and looked at the squad. Crockett didn't like this any better than
Johnny did, but he had a job to do.
"Let's talk in your captain's office."
Hank excused himself, leaving his two paramedics to talk alone with the police
detective. He had felt bad for Gage when the first report came out and Johnny
had to acknowledge to the guys what had really happened. Now the paramedic’s
name, in addition to a photo of him, was attached to this story. That situation
meant Johnny’s identity was no longer anonymous. Hank had an idea of how he
would feel if it was him, but imagined it was even worse for Gage – the person
actually living through this.
"What's the matter, Cap?" Mike asked
when Hank walked into the Dayroom.
"DeSoto and Gage are back from Rampart."
The rest of the crew
remained silent for a moment.
"Poor Gage," said Chet.
Marco looked at him funny. "Chet?"
"Hey, it's one thing if I torture my pigeon, but I don't need all
of
"You're all heart, Chet," Mike shook his head.
"Mums the word on this guys,” Hank ordered. “I don't need to remind you,
do I?"
Three heads shook in unison at their commanding officer's words.
Gage and DeSoto were in Hank’s office for nearly an hour with Crockett. The
captain finally had to go and check on them. He knocked once and opened the
door.
"Fresh pot of coffee is ready. Anyone need a break?"
"We're just finishing up here. Thanks anyway, Captain Stanley."
Gage looked completely depressed. Hank knew the next few shifts were going to
be hell for the young man.
Maybe I should encourage
him to take some time off.
"Okay, John,” Crockett said. “Thanks for your time and the additional
information. I'm sorry I had to put you through the wringer, but it’s necessary
in order to catch this psycho. That information you neglected to tell Officer
Howard has me wondering. There's something familiar about all of this, but I
just can't place my finger on it right now. Thanks again."
"And, John?” The black man said, “don't take this advice wrong, okay? I'd
find my own dates for a while, know what I mean?" The lieutenant
cracked a smile, and Gage couldn't help smile in return. "Any time you
need an objective ear you know where to find me. I do mean any time. You
were the victim, and I'm here to help you."
"Thanks, Lieutenant."
Crockett slapped Gage on the shoulder and left through the station's back door.
Gage headed for the dorm. He couldn't face the rest of the guys right now. A
little time alone to think was what he needed.
"Where's your partner?” Hank asked
"Probably in the dorm. He was pretty upset when he found out about the
news report."
"I don't doubt it. I have to ask you this,
"No. He's a professional, Cap. I have every confidence in him. If it does
affect him on the job, I’ll let you know."
"Thanks, pal."
Mike spoke up. "I think we should act like this never happened. Johnny’s
going to get enough grief from the media and people outside the station. He
doesn't need his friends harping on this. We need to be his support system till
this blows over."
"Mike's right,” Hank agreed. “Business as usual unless John brings it
up."
The paramedics were
called out to a grocery store right before the shift change the next morning.
One of the clerks had a mishap with his box cutter, and the shift supervisor panicked.
The wounds were serious enough to warrant stitches, and since the victim was
lightheaded, they decided to transport.
Gage closed the ambulance doors and gave them the two customary slaps, and then
turned to put the equipment away. He quickly got in the squad and followed the
non-Code R to Rampart.
Just as Johnny and Roy were going off duty,
Lieutenant Ronald Crockett was entering his office. He carried a stack of files beneath his left
arm, and a cup of coffee in his right hand.
He’d arrived at the station at six-thirty that morning, and went
straight to the records room.
Considering that it had been after
Not for the first time since his wife had gained the independence a job often brought a woman who had spent the previous two decades as a homemaker, Crockett told himself that it might not be such a good thing that Luella didn’t appear to be bothered by his absences. Like a lot of concerns that weren’t related to police business, this one left Crockett’s mind as quickly as it had entered. He used one foot to shut his office door, effectively cutting off the noise from the busy squad room. Ron set the files on his desk. He pulled out his chair and sat down, the soft brown leather readily conforming to his shape, as though it was reminding him, too, that he spent more hours at work than he should.
The man sipped his coffee while reaching for the first file on the stack. He read through it, and then set it aside. He repeated that action with the next file, and the next. As he had tossed and turned in bed during the early morning hours, Crockett had finally recalled what it was about Gage’s assault that was familiar to him. Sometime during the past year, there had been another reported case of a man being assaulted by a woman who had left him without his clothing. Only in that case, the man had been tied to a bed in a motel room, as opposed to being left wandering in the woods.
Crockett continued to go through the files, looking for the case whose M.O. was the closest to John Gage’s. Most of the files held cases regarding domestic abuse – a woman hitting her husband over the head with a dinner plate, or neighbors reporting a woman chasing her husband down the street while wielding a butcher knife. It was rare for men, outside of domestic situations, to fall victim to a woman intent on assaulting them in some manner. And Crockett knew it was even more rare for men to report such assaults when they did happen. John Gage was true to the statistics in that regard. Although he had reported the incident to Vince Howard, he hadn’t given Vince all the details of the assault, and he likely wouldn’t have reported the incident to the police at all, had his Land Rover not been stolen.
It took the lieutenant twenty more minutes of searching before he had the file he wanted. His eyes scanned the detective’s report. One year earlier, a woman by the name of Cindy Stone had hit David Edward Clayburn on the side of the head three times with an alarm clock, and then left him tied naked to a bed at the Traveler’s Inn Motel. Clayburn had lost consciousness as a result of the blows to his head, and had required fifteen stitches to close the gash that had resulted. Like John Gage, Clayburn had been fortunate that his injury hadn’t turned out to be life threatening, and that after a twenty-four hour stay at Harbor General Hospital, he was able to return home.
The detective who worked on this case had left the department and taken a job with the Miami Police Department. If he were still here, Crockett would speak with him about it, but since he wasn’t, the lieutenant spent the next half hour going over the file. Like Gage, Clayburn was young and single. Also like Gage, he was dark headed, tall, and slender. Crockett studied the photo the file contained of the man. Like John Gage, as well, Crockett supposed a woman would consider David Clayburn to be good looking.
Ron sat back in his chair as he drank the remainder of his coffee. The first order of business was to speak with David Clayburn and get an account of how he met Cindy Stone, and what happened the night she assaulted him. Granted, much of that information was in the file, but Crockett wanted to hear it for himself. Depending on what he discovered, the next order of business might be to get a message out through the media that stated the police department would like to speak with any other men who had fallen victim to the same type of assault, but had not reported it. Whether that would produce any results, Crockett didn’t know. He found it interesting, however, that David Clayburn and John Gage were so similar in appearance. Whether that meant anything or not to the woman who had committed these crimes, was hard to say at this point. On the other hand, this seemingly minor similarity was not something Crockett was going to discount, either.
Crockett wrote down the address of the construction company that employed Clayburn – or at least had employed him at the time the crime against him was committed. Crockett knew he’d have to go to the firm’s main office first, in order to find out what job site Clayburn was working at today.
Clayburn’s a blue-collar laborer who works at a physically demanding job, just like Gage does. I wonder if that could be another link between these cases?
Crockett jotted that thought down on the same small notepad that he’d used to record the address of Clayburn’s employer. The man stood and tossed his Styrofoam cup into the garbage can. He put his notepad in a pocket of his suit coat, locked the Clayburn file in his top desk drawer, and then scooped up the remaining files. He’d drop them back off at the records room and have one of the clerks check them in for him. As he walked through the squad room, Crockett said to no one in particular, “I’ll be out of the building for a while.”
He heard an, “Okay, Lieutenant,” while he walked to the door. Fifteen minutes later, Crockett was in his car and headed for the main office of the Thomas Mansfeld Construction Firm.
Johnny pulled his Land
Rover out of the Station 51 parking lot and headed for home. He couldn’t wait
to get to his own apartment, where he would finally get some time alone after a
night of being recognized here and there as “the man who got beat up by the
woman” as mentioned on TV.
Once there, he ran up the steps to the second floor, then walked down the long
hallway to his front door. As the dark-haired man walked into his kitchen, he
remembered he needed to get some coffee, milk, and cereal. Johnny grabbed his
keys again, and headed back out to a nearby corner market.
Crockett entered into
the main office of the Thomas Mansfield Construction Company. A man sitting behind
the desk looked up from his paperwork and eyed the detective.
“Can I help you?”
“I hope so.” The cop flashed his badge. “I’m Lieutenant Ron Crockett, with the
LAPD. I understand you have a man by the name of David Edward Clayburn working
for you?”
The man had quickly gotten to his feet at the flash of the badge and stepped
around the desk. He held out his right hand as the mention was made of his
employee.
“Tom Mansfield. Is
there a problem? Is Dave in some sort of trouble?”
Crockett shook the man’s hand, putting his badge away. “No, sir. I just need to
ask him a few things about an acquaintance of his. Can you tell me where he
is?”
“Sure!” The man studied a list of names he had sitting on his desk. “Here it
is. He’s at Viejo Drive and South Hill Street. It’s a new fast food place we’re
building there.”
Without further explanation as to why he wanted to talk to Dave Clayburn, Crockett thanked the man and left.
Kate Connelly pulled
off on the side of the street when she saw John Gage park at a little store
near his apartment building. She stared at the dark-haired man as he climbed
out of his Land Rover and walked inside.
“You got off way too easy, Johnny,” Katherine said to herself. “You know, I can have a lot more fun with you...I've
never tried to get the same guy twice." A smile spread across her face.
"I wonder if it's as satisfying the second time around?"
She sat waiting for the
man to come back out of the store. When he did several minutes later, the woman
followed a good distance behind the Land Rover, parking her car a half block
away from his apartment building.
“I’ll think of something for you, Johnny. Just wait. I’ll think of something
you’ll never forget.” Kate pulled away from the curb and headed to the office
where she worked
Crockett walked into
his own office and plopped his notes on the desk. He’d gotten a bit more
information from David Clayburn. The main thing being, that Crockett now knew
this man and Gage were set up and attacked by a petite woman fitting a similar
description. The only thing that didn’t
match up was the lady’s name.
“Sir?”
The lieutenant turned around to see a tall, dark-haired man in the doorway.
“Yes?”
“I was told to . . .uh. . .to talk to you. . .uh. . .when the guy on TV. . .you
know, the fireman who got attacked. . .” the young man shifted nervously on his
feet. “Well, I something like that. . .uh. . .the same thing happened to me. .
.sort of. . .a few months ago.”
Crockett motioned towards a chair as he leaned against his desk. “Have a seat,
please.”
The man sat down, and began the story of how a petite woman named Margie
Simmons left him stranded and naked after they’d spent the day hiking and rock
climbing in a state park.
Kate was singing to the radio as she neared her place of employment. She knew the time would come soon when she would get John Gage better than she already had. But in the meantime, an acquaintance who only knew Kate as Pam Lewis, was going to set her up with a man named Mark Hall after work today. When Kate had seen the picture of the handsome, dark-haired telephone lineman, she knew he would be her next victim.
Two weeks passed in which John Gage felt like all of Los Angeles had come to know him as the fireman who had been beaten up by the ‘Stripper Bandit’ as some inane newspaper reporter had dubbed Mary Jane Becker.
The A-shift was off duty for the next forty-eight hours, for which Johnny was grateful. Sleep was hard to come by these days. If some news reporter wasn’t calling in an attempt to garner an interview with the paramedic, then friends within the fire department, who just didn’t understand that this situation wasn’t funny to Johnny, were playfully hassling him about the incident. At least the men he worked directly with at Station 51 seemed to understand that Johnny wasn’t in the mood to be the butt of anyone’s jokes. Even Chet had shown remarkable restraint in recent weeks.
After several hours of tossing and turning, Johnny finally gave up on getting any sleep, and settled into his recliner instead. With a beer in hand, he began clicking through the line-up of morning game shows, and soon found himself guessing the prices of major appliances. It was during the second round that he almost choked when he watched a woman with long red hair race onto the stage to join the game show host. The lady had a familiar look, and if he hadn’t known better, Johnny would’ve thought it was Mary Jane Becker standing there. Shocked at the strange resemblance, he stared at the screen for a moment, and then, in uncharacteristic Gage anger, threw his beer bottle at the set. Shaking his head as if to clear the image and control his temper, Johnny quickly turned off the television and began to pace about his small apartment.
The chick on that
game show had long red hair, Johnny reminded himself. Mary Jane’s is blond and only comes to her
shoulders. You can’t go throwin’ beer
bottles at the TV set every time you see a woman that makes you think of her.
The depression that had started two weeks ago was suddenly overwhelming him,
and glancing at the sack of groceries still unopened on his counter, Johnny
recalled the scene that had occurred upon his most recent trip to the market.
Walking into the family owned business, he’d immediately exchanged pleasantries
with the owner, Mrs. Martin, who had responded in her usual friendly manner.
Moving about the small market gathering his few items into a basket, Johnny had
silently hoped that her attitude was a sign of better things to come.
Unfortunately, his optimism proved to be a bit premature. As he returned to the
counter with his purchases, Johnny was greeted with the distinct sound of
laughter. Several construction workers he knew from the neighborhood were also
in the store, and at the sight of the newsworthy fireman, the three men had
exchanged their ill-concealed barbs. Luckily, Mrs. Martin had been quick to
interrupt their rudeness by handing them their change, thereby giving them no
reason to stay around and further insult their embarrassed victim, but the
damage had been done. Not even the warm smile from the kind storeowner could
change his darkening mood. Johnny had quickly paid for his groceries and
hurried home, knowing that there was nowhere he could go without people
recognizing him.
Now, as he stood in the middle of his apartment, the weary man struggled to
find some consolation in the words his captain, Roy, Lieutenant Crockett, and
even Doctor Brackett had said to him. However, no matter how much he wanted to
believe them, the only truth that seemed obvious, was that he was a laughing
stock, not only of the fire department, but also of the whole county. A fireman
who’d allowed himself to be accosted by a woman, and left in the most
embarrassing of situations . . well, there was just no excuse for it.
Without thinking about his actions, Johnny found himself gathering his camping
supplies. The irresistible urge to escape the prying eyes of every friend and
stranger had convinced him that he needed to take some time off. He wouldn’t
admit to himself that it looked like he was running away; it was just that he
needed to be alone. After a quick phone call to department headquarters to
arrange a leave of absence, Johnny loaded his backpack and supplies in the Land
Rover, and headed out of the city.
Several hours later, the warm sun beating down on his shoulders, Johnny was
hiking up a familiar path, hoping that he would finally be able to relax.
Roy knocked several times and even called out to his partner, but there was no
answer. Finally losing what little patience he had left, the tired paramedic
pulled out his own key and opened the door to Johnny’s apartment. As he
suspected, his friend was gone, and the strange feelings that elicited were
frightening to the worried man.
Where are you, Junior?
Taking a turn about the small space, Roy was immediately aware of the broken
beer bottle near the television set. The bits of glass shone in a strange
pattern on the carpet, and he nervously wondered what might have triggered his
friend’s unusual response. Then, in another breath, he silently berated
himself. Of course Johnny was on edge, who wouldn’t be after the recent string
of events? And now, with the latest news about a man named Mark Hall having
been assaulted by some woman. . . Roy found a rag and dustpan, and began to
pick up the glass, his mind focused not on his task, but the whereabouts of one
Johnny Gage.
It was several minutes before Roy realized there was another person in the
room. Looking up, hoping to see his missing partner, he quickly hid his
disappointment when he met the worried gaze of Captain Stanley.
“Where's John?”
“I don’t know, Cap. I’ve been trying to call him ever since you told me he was
taking a few days off, but obviously he hasn’t been here.”
“Do you suppose he’s seen this?”
With a thud, Hank dropped the morning newspaper onto the coffee table next to
Roy. Glancing over at the offending tabloid, it seemed as if the bold headlines
might jump right off the page.
“I hope not.” Roy mumbled.
Dropping his rag on the floor, Roy picked up the daily paper and read part of
the article.
* * * *
Injured Man Wandering Nude on Deserted Beach
A
man was found wandering on the beach early yesterday morning. His rescuers
claim a woman he’d been dating had left him there, injured and without any
clothes. The man, identified as Mark Hall, is currently in fair condition at
Harbor General Hospital with a concussion and broken arm, along with numerous
cuts and abrasions. He is expected to make a full recovery, but has not yet
been allowed to speak with reporters. Lieutenant Ronald Crockett, who is in
charge of the investigation, will not
comment on the case other than to say that a woman was involved.
* * * *
As he dropped the paper back onto the table, Roy shook his head in disgust
before finishing his task. Discarding the glass in the garbage, he stood
silently in the kitchen, wondering where his friend could be. Calling Johnny’s
aunt had been a mistake. The only thing that had accomplished was to worry the
poor lady. Suddenly, Roy knew what he’d been overlooking. Hurrying to the hall
closet, he threw the door open and finally had his answer.
“Cap, he’s camping. All his gear is gone.”
“Do you have any idea where he might be?”
“Well, there’re several places he likes to go, but his favorite spot isn’t too
far away.”
Cap turned back to stare at the headlines for a moment before glancing uneasily
around the room. His tired gaze took in the disarray, which included a grocery
sack dumped out on the kitchen counter, and his worried frown grew in intensity
as he realized how troubled his youngest paramedic really was.
“Let’s see if we can find him, Roy. He’s been pretty upset by all of this. I
think it’s time we convinced him he’s got some friends who really care about
him.”
The two men quickly left the apartment together, anxious to find their missing
friend.
‘Linda Newton’ tucked her new photo ID into her purse as she walked back to her
car. This changing of identities had become like second nature to her, almost
as easy as changing her winter coat to a spring jacket. She bit back the smile
that played at the edge of her mouth.
Better not get too cocky,
Kate. You’re doing things a little too quickly here, and you still have some
unfinished business to take care of.
Tapping her lip with a fingernail that was freshly coated with Pink Daisy nail
polish, Kate thought back to her recent encounter with one Mark Hall. He’d
fallen for her so quickly, almost demanding that they spend every spare moment
with each other, which advanced her routine more rapidly than normal. But,
although the relationship had only lasted several days, she’d found that her
heart wasn’t really in it when she left him lying naked on the beach. There was
only one man on her mind right now, and it was time she did something about
him.
As she reached her car, Kate slipped into the front seat and then glanced in
the rear-view mirror as she admired her new look. Yes, the wig of soft, dark, loosely
curled hair did make a difference. As did the brown tinted contact lenses she
was wearing, the brow pencil that had transformed her eyebrows from blond to
brunette, the fake brunette eyelashes she’d attached over her blond ones, and
the foundation that gave her skin an olive hue.
Kate’s mother was a makeup artist for a theatre in San Francisco, and it
had been through her that Kate had learned how easily a woman could alter her
appearance with the use of makeup and a few other accessories. Not to mention some halfway decent acting
skills. Good old Johnny Gage wouldn’t
even recognize her. Well, at least not until she’d finished with him.
It had only been a few days
since Johnny left his apartment, but as he trudged up the stairs to his door,
he wondered why it felt like a month. His time spent alone had not brought him
the relief he craved. In the past, he’d felt comfortable in the wilderness,
content to spend his days and nights enjoying nature, but this trip had left
him feeling anxious and alone. With every step, he’d had the uneasy feeling
that someone was out there watching, and Johnny knew that he was letting the
whole situation get the better of him.
Now, on top of everything, he had to call his best friend and find a way to
apologize for leaving town without talking to him first. He knew that his
partner would forgive him, but Johnny wondered if he could forgive himself for
acting so childishly. As he reached the door, Johnny decided he’d make the call
right away. Maybe, if he were lucky, Roy would have time to come over for a
while to talk.
Turning the key in the lock, he was surprised to find it turn freely.
I know I locked it when I
left.
Pushing carefully on the door, Johnny slowly entered the room, looking about warily.
Mmm…everything looks
okay. If someone broke in, my TV and
stereo would be the first things they would have taken. I must not have gotten the door latched
tightly when I left.
Now certain that no one
was present in his home, Johnny piled his camping supplies on the floor and
shut the door behind him. Suddenly, the sound of a voice from the kitchen
caused him to turn on his heels.
“Where have you been?”
Crockett pulled into
the driveway of Mark Hall’s home. The Lieutenant sat in his car a moment,
staring at the duplex in front of him. The place was across town from where
Gage lived, and several miles from where each of the other two victims resided.
There was no set pattern with this serial assailant as far as location. Just in
the victims’ physical appearances and the fact they were all blue-collar
workers. With as many men as that included in L.A., it would be impossible to
figure out who might be the next target of this woman.
The Lieutenant got out of his car and walked towards the duplex on the left.
He’d been over Mark Hall’s report numerous times already, but there was always
a chance there would be a detail the victim forgot about until later.
“Roy? What are you doing here? How’d you--?”
The older man held up the spare key he’d used to get inside his friend’s
apartment. “I gave you my answer. Now you give me yours. Just where have you
been?”
“I went camping. That’s all,” Johnny shrugged.
“That’s all? Cap and I have been looking for you all morning. You’re lucky he
had to go pick up his wife for an appointment, or I’m sure he’d be all over
your case.”
“Roy, I’m a grown man,” Gage said it with more defiance than he had intended.
”I can decide to go camping without telling the world where I’m at.”
“Okay. You’re a grown
man and can do what you want. I’ll give ya’ that.” Roy eyed the groceries still
on the table in sacks. “But this wasn’t your ordinary way of leaving. You left
a few important things undone, which tells me you left on the spur of the
moment. You ran.”
Gage splayed his hand on his chest. “I didn’t run,” he said, giving a slight
laugh.
“What about the broken beer bottle?” DeSoto asked, in reference to the mess
he’d cleaned up earlier. “What triggered
that?”
Johnny felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his partner. Roy was right. He
had run. “I’m just frustrated. I get recognized as the guy who was beat up by a
girl and left naked wandering in the woods...and then I see a chick who reminds
me of Mary Jane and it’s eerie.”
A sudden realization came over Roy. Had Johnny run into a woman who resembled
Mary Jane Becker? If so, it would make perfect sense that Gage would be
unnerved.
“Did you see Mary Jane somewhere?”
“Nah. I was watching a game show and one of the contestants just looked so much
like her, I lost it.”
It was becoming evident to Roy that Johnny was having more problems with the
aftermath of the attack than he had been letting on.
“I’m just curious, and you don’t have to answer. . .but have you been out with
anyone else since the. . . it happened?”
“Roy, are you kiddin’? The last thing I need is to be dating right now.”
“Why?”
“Because. . .” Johnny waved his hand in search of an excuse. “Because. . .I
don’t know. Just because.”
“You know you can’t distrust every girl you see. You ran into one bad apple.
Don’t let what she did ruin your life.”
“I just need time.”
“I know.” Roy pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. “Look, the next
girl you see that’s available, ask her out. Give her a chance. I’ll bet you
won’t be sorry.” He looked at the groceries on the table again. “And I’ll bet
you don’t waste as much food again.”
Johnny shook his head. “I don’t know. What if she recognizes me from the news?”
“Any nice girl is gonna understand. Besides, Mary Jane’s moved on, so you may
as well, too.”
Gage’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know she’s moved on? You’ve seen her?”
Roy immediately regretted his words. Apparently, Johnny hadn’t heard about the
latest attack. Well, he’d find out sooner or later anyway. Better it be from a
friend.
“Uh. . .it was in the paper this morning. Another man was left naked and beat
up, but it was on the beach this time.”
Johnny’s jaw dropped in astonishment. “Are you kiddin’ me?”
Roy shook his head.
“Wow.” Gage pulled out a chair and sat across from his partner. “The poor guy.
Did they catch her?”
“No, but Crockett’s working hard on the case.”
Johnny sat back in his chair. Maybe he shouldn’t feel like such a fool after
all.
Kate smiled as she stood from her crouched position next to the left rear tire
of her rental car. She scampered into the vehicle and watched as Roy came out
of Johnny’s apartment building and walked to his car. After he pulled out of
the parking lot, her gaze returned to the apartment, when she caught movement
out of the corner of her eye. Johnny was exiting the building.
She sat quietly in her car as he walked across the lot to his Land Rover. When
he opened the back and leaned inside, Kate made her move.
“Excuse me. . .”
The dark-haired paramedic jumped slightly at the unexpected sound behind him,
then quickly peeked out at the source of the voice. He sighed and relaxed when
he saw the woman standing beside him. Kate had practiced altering her
voice, so she sounded softer and with a hint of a southern accent. Between
that, the wig, her makeup, the contacts that made her eyes dark brown rather
than pale blue, and the conservative business suit she was wearing as opposed
to the jeans and casual shirts he’d always seen her, she knew Johnny would have
no idea who she was. Or at least not
immediately. She smiled shyly.
“I got a flat tire and pulled in here to see if anyone could help me. . .would
ya’ll mind?”
Johnny smiled at the petite woman. “Sure, I’ll help.”
After taking him to the car she had rented, Kate stood back as Gage changed the
tire she had punctured and replaced it with the small spare in the trunk. When
he was done, he stood up. “You’ll need to get a real tire put on as soon as you
can. Those spares are mainly just to get you to where you need to go, but it’s
not a good idea to drive around on ‘em.”
“Okay. How much do I owe you?”
“Excuse me?”
“For changing my tire. . .how much? I should pay ya’ll something.”
Johnny shook his head. “No, I was just helping you out.”
“Can I buy you lunch? Dinner? A drink later?”
The man thought about what his partner had said. Maybe this was fate and he
should give this chick a chance. Despite
her conservative look, she was cute.
Kind of like a little pixie with that dark, curly hair and those deep,
brown eyes.
“Uh. . .sure. . .uh. . .I don’t even know your name.”
“Linda. . .Linda Newton.” She held out her hand.
A quick shake and introduction on his part, and Johnny was putting her jack
back in the trunk.
“Okay, Linda Newton. I’ve got to get cleaned up first, so how about dinner?”
”Sure,” the woman smiled. “I’ll be here. Is five a good time?”
“Five is fine,” Johnny nodded.
“Then I’ll see you at six,” Linda promised, before getting in the rental car and driving away.
Between the early-afternoon hours and four p.m., Kate had returned to her home where she reapplied her makeup and changed into a fresh suit. This one had a stone blue blazer, a white blouse with a big bow at the neck, and a long, flowing skirt in three shades of blue. Certainly Johnny would never associate Linda Newton, the conservative librarian, with Mary Jane Becker, the martial arts expert and shameless vixen. To top off her ensemble, Kate slipped into a pair of black rubber soled shoes. To Johnny, she’d simply look the part she was playing of conservative dresser, but in actuality, the shoes would aid Kate in making a quick escape from the man’s apartment.
Over the past year Kate had learned that there were many ways to humiliate a man, but none quite so perfect as when the man was assaulted by a woman. Why Kate was taking her anger at her former fiancée out on John Gage, she wasn’t sure, other than to say of all the men she’d preyed upon in the last twelve months, he was the one who most reminded her of Greg. Granted, taking her fury out on Greg would be more of a benefit to her mental health, but that was too risky. Greg knew her real name, of course, along with where she lived and worked. The other men she’d encountered only knew Kate as the alter egos she’d created – Cindy Stone, Margie Simmons, Mary Jane Becker, Pam Lewis, and now, Linda Newton.
Kate arrived at Johnny’s apartment at fifteen minutes before five. She looked around and saw a few cars in the lot, but not many. It was Friday evening, meaning people were less likely to come home right after work, and more likely to go out to dinner, meet friends for a movie, stop for a drink, or run errands they didn’t want to waste the weekend taking care of.
The woman parked her vehicle in the small area designated for visitors. She reached into her purse and pulled out four nylon ropes two feet in length, and a can of Mace. She secreted her weapons in the deep side pockets of her blazer, hid her purse under the front seat, and then exited her rental car. She planned to return the car this evening, before Johnny had a chance to give a description of it to the police. If the cops were able to track the vehicle down, all they’d discover is that a dark headed woman named Linda Newton rented it, and had provided proper identification when doing so. Kate wasn’t stupid. Her own car was at home in her garage. She’d taken a city bus to the rental agency, and would take one again this evening when she was ready to return to her house. She hadn’t even had to call in sick to work today. She was on vacation this week – a vacation that had been scheduled six months ago. So again, nothing would look suspicious about Kate Connelly when this latest assault on John Gage hit the news.
Kate didn’t want Johnny to meet her in the parking lot, so she hurried toward the building. She was glad he didn’t live in a complex where you had to buzz at the lobby door in order to be admitted. She opened the door and walked into the foyer where the residents’ mailboxes were encased along one wall, then opened the second door that led to a long hallway with apartments on either side of it. Straight ahead was a stairway to the upper floor. Kate lifted her long skirt and took the stairs two at a time. When she reached the landing she headed down the hall. Johnny’s apartment was the last one on the right. Again, that was to Kate’s benefit. His neighbors were less likely to hear any commotion, as opposed to what noise might reach them if he had a centrally located unit.
The woman knocked on the door, then bent over to grasp her left ankle. When Johnny called, “Who is it?” Kate could picture him looking through the peephole and wondering who was knocking.
“It’s me, Johnny!” she called with her newly acquired southern accent. “It’s me, Linda! Oh, I’m such a klutz. I tripped over my own feet while getting out of my car, and I think I sprained my ankle.”
That did it. Kate smiled as she heard the door open. She looked up through her fake eyelashes, but didn’t lift her head. Johnny crouched down in front of her, already to distracted by her ‘injury’ to focus on her face.
“Here, let me take a look at that.”
“No, no. That’s okay. If you’ll just help me back to my car, I’ll go on home. I feel like such a fool.”
“There’s no need for you to feel like a fool,” Johnny assured, while he felt the ankle as best he could above Kate’s shoe.
“Ouch!”
“I’m sorry. It doesn’t appear to be swollen, but I can’t really tell. Let me help you inside so I can get your shoe off and take a look at it.”
Kate played the part of southern belle to the hilt. “Oh no, Johnny. I can’t inconvenience you like that. Just help me to my car and I’ll--”
“I’m a paramedic, Linda. Let me take a look at this. Sometimes what a person thinks is a sprain is really a hairline fracture. We might have to take you to get this x-rayed.”
The woman finally rose and looked upon Johnny with wide-eyed admiration. “Really? You’re really a paramedic? You mean you work for the fire department?”
“Yes, that’s what I mean,” Johnny reluctantly admitted, while hoping that Linda hadn’t heard about him on the news.
Apparently she hadn’t, because she smiled and said, “What a lucky woman I am to have a fireman handy when I’ve injured myself.”
Johnny chuckled at the flattery while putting one arm around the woman and helping her inside. He noticed that Linda closed the door behind them, but didn’t think anything of what he deemed a normal action.
Kate leaned on Johnny and hopped to the couch. When they reached it she turned around and allowed Johnny to help her sit. Acting the part of injured maiden, she grimaced and let out a quiet moan as he sat on the coffee table and raised her left leg to his lap. He pushed her skirt up to her knees and looked at the ankle again.
“Mmmm…no bruising or swelling that I can see.”
“Is that good?”
Johnny didn’t take his eyes off Kate’s ankle as he nodded and palpated it. “So far it is. Now let me get your shoe off and I’ll take a closer--”
With that, Kate drew back her legs and shot both her feet forward. She caught Johnny full in the chest and sent him and the coffee table flying. She stood and whipped off her wig.
“Hi, Johnny. Did you miss me?”
Roy pulled into the parking lot of Johnny’s apartment building. He hadn’t planned on returning to his friend’s home again today, but Joanne and the children had met Eileen when the woman got off work at four-thirty. They were going out to dinner and treating the kids to some new Disney movie Roy had no desire to sit through. As long as he was on his own for the evening, he decided to see if Johnny wanted to go out for pizza and a beer. If the man wasn’t home, Roy’s trip still wouldn’t be a wasted one. In Roy’s opinion, the best pizza parlor in town was a few blocks from Johnny’s apartment building. He’d just dine by himself, or take a pizza home and eat it while he watched T.V. When you’re the father of two, a quiet night with the television to yourself was a simple, yet welcome, pleasure.
Roy parked his car in the visitor’s lot. He didn’t pay any attention to the little Nova he’d parked next to, but did notice that Johnny’s Land Rover was in its usual spot.
Good, he’s home. Maybe if we hang out together for a few hours tonight he’ll get some of what’s bothering him off his chest.
Roy chuckled to himself as he walked toward the building. He couldn’t believe that he was actually hoping to sit through a Gage rant session.
Johnny’s eyes were wide as he gasped for the breath that had been knocked out of him. His tailbone smarted, and he’d hit the back of his head against the wooden arm of the easy chair when he’d fallen.
“You!” Johnny gasped, for lack of anything better to say. “It’s…it’s you?”
“That’s right, Johnny, it’s me. You’re old friend Mary Jane.”
Johnny started to stand, but before he got off his knees a strong side-kick landed on his jaw. He fell backwards again, and suddenly remembered just how easily Mary Jane had overpowered him the first time. He was far taller and stronger than she was, but he was no match for someone with years of training in judo. He scrambled away on his hands and knees, knowing that his best defense was to keep her at arm’s length.
Johnny got to his knees and remained in a crouched position in order to give her less of a target. “Why…why are you doing this?”
“Let’s just say I was scorned by a man, and you know what they say about a woman scorned.”
“No, I don’t. But I’m beginning to find out.”
Kate laughed. “Yes, you are,” she agreed, as she advanced on the man. All she wanted to do was incapacitate him again like she had in the woods and get his clothes off. After that, she’d tie him to whatever was handy, call that reporter Larry Davis and give him a heads up as to where he could find John Gage for an interview, and then get the hell out of here.
The couple engaged in a bizarre dance as Johnny dodged around the room, seeking what protection he could from behind various pieces of furniture. He felt like a fool. He hadn’t been chased around like this by a girl since he was seven-years-old and Susie Jackson had been determined to beat him up on the playground because she’d seen him making eyes at Jeannie Lambert during lunch.
Come to think of it, Susie knocked the crap
out of me, just like this crazy broad is gonna do if I don’t get outta here.
Johnny’s eyes shot to the door, which was a mistake because it immediately signaled to Mary Jane what escape route he was going to take. Of course, he didn’t have much choice. It was either the door, or jumping off the second floor balcony that was at the far end of his living room. Johnny was trying to figure out just how badly he might be injured if he did just that, as he ran for the kitchen and sought protection on the other side of the table. This time Mary Jane wasn’t going to play ring-around-the-rosy. She came after Johnny, forcing him to run. That wasn’t all bad, or so the paramedic thought as he headed for the front door. What he hadn’t expected was for the woman to get a grip on his arm. She dug her long nails into his flesh, causing him to cry out and turn to face her by reflex. When he did that, he got a powerful spray of Mace in his eyes.
Johnny screamed and brought his hands to his eyes. They felt like they were on fire, which was exactly how Mace was supposed to make them feel. The man was in pain, but he was also enraged. He was tired of this woman, and no longer cared if he harmed her. It was difficult to go against years of being taught not to hit a woman, but Johnny decided that if there had ever been a woman who deserved to be belted a good one, it was Mary Jane Becker.
When Johnny felt a rope start to encircle his left wrist he ducked his head and rammed his body forward. By luck alone, he hit the woman square in the chest and sent her flying. He heard her cry out, and heard her head come in contact with what sounded like a kitchen cabinet. The Mace prevented Johnny from seeing, so he wasn’t sure if Mary Jane had been incapacitated or not. As tears streamed out his irritated eyes, Johnny turned for where he thought the front door was. From somewhere behind him he heard a growled, “You bastard! You damn bastard, Gage! You’ll pay for this. I’ll kill you! Do you hear me? I’ll kill you!”
What instinct made Johnny turn around and throw his arms up he never knew. That defensive action was the only thing that saved him when the butcher knife from his cutlery drawer was thrust downward.
Roy paused halfway to Johnny’s apartment and cocked his head. He wasn’t sure where the commotion was coming from, but it sure sounded like one of John’s neighbors had started a Friday night party a little earlier than normal.
The paramedic shrugged and kept walking. Roy didn’t hear the woman’s voice until he was two doors from Johnny’s unit.
“You bastard! You damn bastard, Gage! You’ll pay for this. I’ll kill you! Do hear me? I’ll kill you!”
Just as one of Johnny’s elderly neighbors was opening her door to peer out and see what was going on, Roy ran the rest of the way to his friend’s apartment. He hoped he wasn’t rushing into a weird ‘game’ Johnny and a woman were playing, as opposed to this being a real emergency. Roy didn’t know who would be more embarrassed – him or Johnny, but since Johnny had admitted just hours earlier that he hadn’t dated any women since Mary Jane, Roy was doubtful that what he was hearing was some kind of precursor to a romantic interlude.
As soon as Roy opened the door he knew this was no romantic interlude. He looked over his shoulder and instructed the elderly woman who was still looking out of her doorway, “Call the police and the fire department! Tell them we need a paramedic squad sent! Hurry!”
Just as Roy was ordering Johnny’s neighbor to call for help, Chet and Marco entered the apartment building. They were going out for dinner, and then meeting some of the guys from 110’s for a night of bowling. Considering how down Johnny had been acting lately, and now the spur-of-the-moment time off he’d requested, Chet thought Johnny might want to come along, and Marco had agreed.
“But I guess if Roy’s here Johnny might not come with us.” Chet opened the door that led into the main floor. He had parked his Volkswagon van next to Roy’s Porsche, so knew the man was visiting Johnny. “Roy doesn’t bowl.”
“No, but maybe Roy’ll tag along if he doesn’t have anything better to do,” Marco said. “Or maybe they’ll go eat with us if nothing else.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Chet agreed, as the two men climbed the stairs that led to the building’s second floor.
The elderly woman slammed her door and Roy heard her click the deadbolt. He had no idea if she’d do what he said or not, but didn’t have time to worry about it. He ran into the room as Mary Jane dropped the butcher knife and flew past him. He made a grab for her, and caught the end of her blazer. She turned around and laid him flat with a side-kick to the ribs. He scrambled to his knees and ran after her as she raced down the hall. He spotted two men stepping onto the landing, and shouted, “Chet! Marco! Stop that woman and hold her until the police get here!”
Roy hugged his ribs with his right hand as he ran back into Johnny’s apartment. The dark haired man was sprawled over one end of the couch. Blood ran down both of his arms, and was splattered on his neck, face, and shirt. The skin surrounding his eyes was red and puffy, as though it had been stung by bees.
Roy grabbed Johnny under the shoulders and urged him to his feet. “Johnny, it’s Roy! Come on. Let’s get you to the bathroom so I can wrap your arms with some towels and wash your eyes out.”
“Mary…Mary Jane,” Johnny murmured, as he stumbled along side Roy.
“Don’t worry about Mary Jane. Chet and Marco have her.”
“Oh, man, Roy, she’ll beat the shit outta those two for sure.”
Roy could hear the commotion coming from the hall and knew Marco and Chet were probably getting better than they were giving, especially when he heard Chet cry, “Ouch! That hurt, ya’ damn bitch!” But he also heard the sirens wailing in the parking lot, and knew help was about to arrive.
“Yes, she probably will,” Roy admitted, “but the cops just got here so I’m sure Mary Jane will be handcuffed and secured in the back of a patrol car soon.”
“Tell the cops to watch out for her,” Johnny gasped as Roy eased him to the bathroom floor and leaned him against the wall. “That crazy broad packs one helluva punch.”
Roy rubbed a hand across his ribcage as he pulled towels from the linen closet. “Tell me about it, partner. Tell me about it.”
Mary Jane’s ability to beat up firemen was forgotten for the time being while Roy wrapped Johnny’s arms with towels and then helped him stand at the sink. Roy flushed his partner’s eyes with cold water, and was just easing Johnny back to a sitting position on the floor of the small room, when a paramedic from Station 47 entered the apartment.
“What the hell happened here?” Ken Taylor asked, as he knelt next to Johnny while taking note of the way Roy was hugging his ribs once again. “Marco and Chet look like they’ve been in a bar fight, and you two don’t look much better.”
Johnny looked out through swollen eyes he could just begin to open to narrow slits. “It’s a long story, Kenny, but take it from me. If your partner ever wants to set you up with a woman, say no.”
Ken glanced at Roy, who shrugged and said, “For once, I can’t disagree with him.”
Ken didn’t ask any further questions as he went about treating Johnny. By the time he was finished, and had looked at Roy’s ribs, Ken met his partner in the hallway so they could figure out the best way to transport four of Station 51’s men to Rampart.
Johnny lay on the exam
table in Treatment Room Three while he waited for Joe Early to come back with
the results of his x-rays. The doctor had assured him that the x-rays were more
for precaution than anything else. Doctor Early wanted to make certain there
were no hidden head injuries or facial fractures as a result of the martial
arts assault Johnny had undergone. With
the wounds on his arms stitched and bandaged, and with his eyes still swollen
and red, Johnny thought back to his latest encounter with Mary Jane Becker.
Man, I should’ve seen it comin’. I can’t believe the first chick I decided
to trust blindsided me. . .and turned out to be Mary Jane. But there can’t be another woman as crazy as
her, so once I get back into the swing of things maybe I can find someone
normal…someone who just wants to go to a movie, or go bowling, but doesn’t
have a black belt in judo. Johnny sighed forlornly. On the other
hand, after all the chicks in L.A. see
on the news that I got beat up again, I’ll probably be lucky to find even one
that’ll be willing to date me.
Crockett had been in to get a statement from the younger paramedic soon after
the ambulance brought him to Rampart. Since the police now had Katherine
Connelly in their custody, the lieutenant was building a case against her as
quickly as he could, so the woman wouldn’t be released in error. Marco, Chet,
and Roy gave an account of what they had witnessed as well, which brought a smile
to Ron Crockett’s face. He had the serial stalker behind bars, and he would try
to put her away for as long as possible on numerous assault charges. He’d also
place the woman in a line-up and have the other victims attempt to identify
her. Crockett had a feeling that before
this was all over, he’d have a solid case against the woman who had assaulted
and humiliated numerous men in the past twelve months.
In a treatment room beside Gage’s, the minor injuries of the other three
firemen were taken care of. Roy had a bruised rib, while Marco and Chet
suffered numerous cuts and bruises. The injury that concerned Doctor Brackett
the most had been a bite wound on Chet’s right forearm. Kate had really sunk
her teeth into his flesh. Chet was current with his tetanus vaccine, so the
only treatment he had to endure was given by a nurse, who washed and
disinfected the wound before bandaging it.
Though none of three men’s injuries required an overnight stay in the
hospital, Brackett requested that they get in touch with him if they had any
trouble with pain that aspirin didn’t help, and he cautioned Chet to keep a
close eye on the bite wound until it healed
Although visiting hours had ended by the time Johnny was placed in a room for overnight
observation, Doctor Brackett allowed Johnny’s shiftmates to see the dark-haired
man before going home. The three firemen walked in, surprised at how bad Gage
still looked even with the blood from his knife wounds having been washed off
his face, neck, and arms. Johnny was
pale, and his eyes were still red, puffy, and irritated, despite having been
washed out multiple times with saline since his arrival at Rampart.
Johnny turned his attention from the television and focused on his visitors. He
shook his head. With Marco’s blackened right eye, along with facial cuts and
bruises, and marks of the same kind on Chet, the two men looked like something
the cat had drug in. Before Gage could say anything, Roy spoke up.
“How’re ya’ doing?” The senior paramedic still hugged his side where Kate had
kicked him.
“Man, I hurt everywhere,” Gage answered, placing his right hand over the
bandage on his left forearm. “I can’t believe she beat the crap outta me
again.”
“You, and the three of us.” Chet added. “That crazy chick even bit me!”
Johnny winced at the bandage on Kelly’s arm. “Sorry about that, but I don’t
know what would’ve happened if you guys hadn’t come by.” He cocked his head and
asked with curiosity, “How come you guys were there? You couldn’t’ve
known Mary Jane was at my place.”
“I was coming by to check in on you, and see if you wanted to go out for
pizza,” Roy said. “You were pretty down earlier today.”
“Yeah, well, I took your advice and made a date with the first woman I ran
into. . .guess it wasn’t the right time, huh?” Gage snorted. “Or maybe I should
say, it wasn’t the right woman.”
“Yeah,” Roy agreed. “Right advice, wrong
woman.”
“Marco and I were comin’ to see if you were up to bowling,” Chet explained. “We
got to the top of the stairs, and Roy was yellin’ for us to stop the chick.” He
shrugged. “So we did, huh, Marco?”
“That’s right, Johnny. She’s in jail now.”
“I know. Crockett told me. I hope she gets the longest sentence possible. A
chick like Mary Jane Becker doesn’t deserve to be free.”
The ten o’clock news came on, catching the men’s attention when Larry Davis was
once again reporting an assault on John Gage. Johnny cringed.
Why me?
“Several weeks ago we brought you a report of
Los Angeles County firefighter and paramedic, John Gage, having been assaulted
and left naked in the Angeles Forest, by a woman known as Mary Jane
Becker. Police suspect the woman has
been involved in several other assaults against area men over the past year. Well, this evening, the woman who tends to
get the best of the men she dates, almost got the best of four firefighters,
including Gage, when she attacked the Station 51 paramedic at his apartment
with a can of Mace and a butcher knife. Fortunately, Gage’s injuries aren’t
serious, and he’s expected to make a full recovery. Three other firemen from
Station 51 suffered minor injuries as they worked together to apprehend the
woman before she could flee. Chester
Kelly, Marco Lopez, and Roy DeSoto, arrived at Gage’s apartment as the assault
was in progress. The woman, who has used
at least two aliases – Mary Jane Becker and Linda Newton, is actually Katherine
Connelly. Tonight she is in police
custody, though it evidently took four firemen to subdue her.” Larry winked at the camera. “Maybe Ms. Connelly should apply for a job
with the fire department when she gets out of jail.”
Johnny and Roy ignored Larry Davis’s poor
attempt at humor as they asked in unison, “Katherine Connelly?”
“Good grief, Roy,” Johnny said, “she’s not even Mary Jane Becker? How can a
person live like that? Using one phony ID after another for the purpose of
going after people.”
“I don’t know.” Roy was as stunned as his partner. The woman had even deceived
his wife’s sister to get to Johnny. “But I know I’m never fixing anyone up on a
blind date again. Figures the one time I try, it turns out like this. I’ll
leave that up to Joanne from now on.”
“Please do,” Johnny said, hardly believing the
day had come where he’d actually welcome being set up with a woman by
Joanne.
The men returned their eyes to the T.V. screen, where they watched as their
photos were shown. Since the pictures
displayed were of the firemen in their dress uniforms, they knew department
headquarters had supplied the photos.
“What a way for the department to drum up publicity,” Marco moaned. “As if any little boy who sees this is going to want a job where the men get beaten up by a woman.”
"I can't believe this,” Chet whined. “All of our pictures? Why did they have to show all of us? Why couldn’t they have just showed Johnny?
They already had his picture.”
"What's the matter, Chet?” Roy asked. “You didn't seem to mind when it was just Johnny's
face on the news."
"Yeah, but-- "
"But what?" Johnny scowled, before giving into a yawn brought on by
the sedative and pain killer that had been administered after he’d gotten
settled in the room.
"Um...I...well..."
Marco elbowed his dark-haired friend in the side, earning him a murderous glare
from Kelly.
"Ow! What'd you do that for?"
"Afraid of what your next date is going to think when she realizes you
were bitten and clobbered by a girl?"
“Listen, Marco, you don’t like it any better than me. You just said--”
Roy held up his hand to silence Chet's tirade.
He pointed to Johnny, who was now asleep, and then to the door. Roy reached up and shut off the T.V., then
the trio walked out into the hallway.
"Listen, guys,” Roy said, after Johnny’s door had closed behind them, “I
think you’re looking at this all wrong…Johnny is, too. Women will probably have sympathy for you
once they hear this story, rather than thinking you’re not macho enough.”
“You think so?” Chet asked, as they headed for the elevators.
Roy put an arm around his ribs again. “I know so. When Joanne finds out what happened to me tonight…well, let’s put it this way, she’ll be pretty focused on making sure I’m comfortable and pampered for the next few days, and she’s not going to have anything good to say about Mary Ja…Katherine.”
“Mmm…I guess I follow ya’,” Chet said. “Sure, I get it. Your woman can be pissed at you, but no other woman better be mad at you.”
“Or beat you up,” Marco added with a smile.
“Exactly,”
"Makes sense,” Chet agreed, now that he gave it some thought. “But you know, I'm still kinda worried about
Gage. I mean, she got him twice. What's that gonna do to him? You know, a chick
as nuts as Mary Jane…or Katherine, or whatever her name is, could really screw
a guy up when it comes to how he looks at women from now on."
Marco laughed and
"What?" asked a confused Chet Kelly.
"You, that's what,”
"I am not! He's - " he stopped quickly. He had almost told them how
he really felt. Chet quickly responded with, "He's my pigeon, and
nobody else is allowed to mess with him. The Phantom doesn't want some
whacked-out chick muscling in on his territory, that's all."
Marco and Roy smiled, while Chet insisted that was the only reason he was
worried.
“Don’t worry, Chet,”
Given all Johnny had been through at the hands of Katherine Connelly, and how tragic things could have ended if three friends hadn’t cared enough about the paramedic to stop by his apartment that evening, the men smiled as they realized listening to Johnny rant about his latest failed relationship would be a small price to pay.
“Just as long as her name isn’t Mary Jane
Becker,” Chet said as the men arrived at the van. “And, as long as you don’t set him up,
“You don’t have to be concerned about that,”
Stories By The Twits Guest Dispatchers