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Note - This story is a continuation of the Defender Series, first appearing in Lascia Ch'io Pianga - The Defender. It takes place nearly two years after Lascia Ch'io Pianga - The Key

 

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Previously:

Precinct parking garage

“Bloomsburg…that’s not too bad…just a shoot up 476 and onto 80 west and we’ll be there in a few hours.” She put the directions on the dash and went to start the car before pulling the key back out of the ignition.

“Oh shit, I left the file on my desk.” She started to open the door when Spinetti spoke up.

“I’ll get it, gotta go to the little boys room,” he said with an annoying snicker. “You must have fond memories of that, huh?”

Donna just looked out the window and tried to ignore him. As he walked over to the stairwell she looked upward and said a quick prayer. Stepping behind a squad car, Spinetti pulled out a cellphone and punched in a number on the pad.

“Hello, WPVI? Channel 6? Can I speak with Karen Nowitski?” He peeked around the corner and saw that Donna was not looking in his direction.

“Yeah, Babe…It’s Carlo. Yeah…it’s Bloomsburg. Meet me up there at the truck stop on 80 West just outside of town. Yeah…by the Sbarros is okay…I found the kids!”

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On Interstate 80 in Pennsylvania

"Remember, if you don't hold on to anything else that I say." Donna stared at the dash board.

She didn't think for one minute that Spinetti would pay heed to what she said, but she had to try to make it clear either way.

"These kids have been through hell. Did you read the file yet?" Donna was not at all confident that he would even understand.

"Fuck, man, are you shittin' me about this? This shit actually happened?" Even Spinetti had a sense of outrage over the victimization of the kids.

"Yes. That's what we have to be careful about. They've begun to talk, at least the twins have. The sister is in foster care in another state, and her therapist is refusing any contact with social services here in P A. Frankly, I don't blame the guy. She'll talk to him when she's ready. Hopefully by then the twins will have given us enough information to turn over to the State's attorney.

"Who the fuck could do something like this to a kid? I mean what fucking kind of person could fuck a kid?"

"You'd be surprised," Donna shook her head. Spinetti's question was reasonable, and he did seem interested, but Donna didn't really want to go into it right there. Jeannie had been hurt as a child, and it remained a wonder that the two of them ever were intimate considering both their pasts.

"Can we stop at the next rest stop? I gotta take a leak."

"We should...Maybe grab something to eat before going to the boy's house." She noticed the sign; Bloomsburg, 4 mi.

A few minutes later they pulled into the rest stop and parked across from the main entrance. As they got out, Spinetti spotted the unmarked van sitting several spaces down from them. As Donna stepped out of the car, he managed to read the address off the directions before Donna grabbed them and shoved them into her purse. Inside, he watched as Donna entered the Ladie's Room before walking quickly to the Sbarros stand where he was greeted with a kiss by his girlfriend.

"I can't hang here too long; she'll be out in a minute. The address is 15 Oakcrest Lane, Bloomsburg. Gotta run...See ya babe"

He stepped quickly to the Men's Room and entered. Karen Nowitski smiled before writing the address down a card. She pulled out her cell phone and hit the preset.

"Yeah...16 Oakcrest...no...He doesn't have a clue...yeah...sure. Okay, see you later."

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Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania at the home of Ellen Muller

"Now remember, I'm not asking any specific questions. It'll be what color, what was he wearing, do you know him?"

“I’m not an idiot. I know how to do an interview.” Spinetti spat. “Open ended questions…did he have any marks on his body; where did it take place. Don’t get your panties in an uproar.”

Donna pulled the car into the driveway and turned off the engine. She turned to Spinetti and smiled.

“Listen. We got off on the wrong foot. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Follow my lead, but if you notice something, just tap my elbow. I’m sure somebody had enough confidence in you to send you on this trip, so let’s work together, okay?” Even as she said it, she didn’t believe it at all, and was wondering how this would play out with a completely inexperienced officer involved in such a sensitive investigation.

“Yeah, .sure.” He stuck out his hand and they shook; establishing a very uneasy alliance. They got out of the car and walked toward the house. Spinetti noticed it first and motioned without a word toward the front door which was wide open.

“Hello, Mrs. Muller? Detective Donna Carter here...” She rapped lightly on the open door even as she motioned for Spinetti to get his weapon.

“I’m here with Detective Spinetti for the interview social services discussed with you. We just spoke on the phone? Mrs. Muller. Tim? Tim Dantoni? Hello?’ She pulled her Sig Sauer from her holster and motioned with her head for Spinetti to go around back. She stepped cautiously through the front door and looked down the hallway. The house was quiet but for the large tabby walking toward her. He rubbed up against her ankles and purred. A noise startled her and sent the cat running up the stairs.

“All clear back here,” Spinetti said in a loud whisper, an oxymoron if there ever was one as Donna shook her head and put her finger to her lips to shush him. She stepped further into the hallway and saw Ellen Muller lying face down in the living room, a pool of blood surrounding her body. She shook her head and swallowed hard. Spinetti joined her a moment later.

“Fuck” He said as he looked down at the body.

“Fuck yeah,” Donna said as she shook her head. The tom had returned and was once again purring at her feet. He hopped up onto the couch and looked down at the body as if assessing the situation. Donna heard rustling behind her, coming from by the stairs. She put her finger to her lips and motioned in the direction of the stairs. They walked slowly to the wall under the stairs. In the paneling Donna noticed a seam; it was a door — probably for storage. She pointed to the door and pulled her Sig Sauer up while Spinetti stepped back, pointing his weapon.

“You might as well come out. I’m Detective Carter and Detective Spinetti has his weapon out. Come on,” she said softly. The click of a latch was followed by the door swinging open. A boy peeked out, blinking his eyes from the light. He looked to be about eleven, but Donna knew that he was much older than that.

“Tim?” Donna used her free hand to help the boy climb out of the closet. His feet were tangled in a pile of boots and he tripped, falling against her and then to the floor. He was thin; almost emaciated and his face was stained with streaks from crying. She lifted him to his feet, and he nearly came eye to eye with her. His features were soft, almost feminine and his complexion was pale but not unhealthy, but set off by his ginger hair, which came to the top of his shoulders. He wore a tee shirt and cut off jeans.

“Hi,” he said, almost in a falsetto. She looked at him again and thought that but for the fact that he was flat chested, he would almost look like a runway model.

“Tim? Do you know who did this?” Spinetti said with a soft kind voice that surprised Donna.

“No,” he said again; his voice almost sounding like a little boy or girl. Donna had seen this in a few kids where she had done her internship. KidsPeace in Philadelphia, a residential program. His voice hadn’t changed. His mannerisms seemed almost asexual, and apart from his height, he held himself like a much younger kid, rather than the fifteen year old he was.

“We’ll get out of here now,” she said. I’ll make sure someone comes and takes care of your mom. Okay. But we have to go.” She would have continued but she was cut off by a loud sound next to her right ear. She turned to see splintered wood fly past her face. She turned around to look at Spinetti and saw him lurch forward, a hole in the middle of his back quickly obscured by the flow of blood. She reached to pull him up and he shook his head no.

“Get the fuck out of here…now! Fuck…Carter…Go…fucking get out of here” He pushed himself to sit up with his back against the wall. Donna looked back and he smiled, like everything between them had suddenly changed. She grabbed Tim and ran out the front door. Getting into the car, she jammed the keys into the ignition.

A figure walked slowly down the hall and stopped at the sprawled feet of Spinetti. His arms had fallen to his side and his hand had let go of his Sig.

“Very admirable, young man,” the man replied. “A hero for once in your life. Well, there’s a lot to be said for redemption.” His voice was almost soothing, like he was comforting Spinetti.

“Let’s not prolong this, yes?” He smiled with the kind of smile you’d expect from a doting grandfather or a kind shopkeeper of a toy store.

“Just so things will look nice for your parents, okay?” He said softfly as he put the silenced Colt to Spinetti’s chest and shot him through the heart. The last look on the face of Carlo Spinetti was almost one of disappointment. Carlo Spinetti…erstwhile bigot and misogynist…and hero.

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On Interstate 80 heading west

Donna shook her head. How could this have happened? No one knew the address other than Social Services, and it would be easy enough to determine who had talked. She thought of Spinetti.

“He’ll be okay…he’s a cop…he can handle himself.” She felt foolish in thinking that. She’d seen the blood on his jacket. He wasn’t in any shape to defend himself, if he survived the back shot at all. She shook her head and she did something she would never have believed was possible. She began to weep for the young man; the man who sacrificed himself for her and the boy. She blinked back tears, trying desperately to stay focused and in control.

“Tim?” She glanced over at the boy, whose head rested against the window as he cried his own tears. He turned to face her and spoke.

“Why? What did Mom do? Why did they kill her…she dinnt do anything! Whathefuck?” It was almost eerie as the word came out of a fifteen year old but sounded like a fifth-grader. He shook his head and punched the headliner.

“I’m sorry, Tim, but you know something that people don’t want anyone to find out,’ Donna wiped her face with her arm and grabbed his left hand.

“Tim…look at me…do you have a cell phone? With your brother’s and your sister’s number?”

“Yeah…” He pulled the phone out of his shorts pocket and held it up.

“Listen to me…Tim…this is very important, okay?” She looked into his eyes and waited for a sign of recognition.

“Call you brother and your sister.” Tell them what happened. Tell them to get their foster parents and put them on the line…okay…can you do that for me?” She smiled as she kept looking back throught the rear view mirror. No car followed them. There still might be a problem because of the motor pool car, which was easily identifiable.

“Yeah…” There was that voice again. It didn’t sound like a kid’s voice. Tim sounded like a fifteen year old girl.

“Okay…Call your brother…what’s his name?”

“Jimmy.” He nodded and punched in the number. A few seconds later his brother answered.

"Jim…go get Nancy, okay? NO…Just fucking get her!” He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“Nancy…This is…yeah…Timmy. I gotta tell you sometin….NO…Mom got shot….NO… wait… listen.” He shook his head and his pale face began to get red. He pulled the phone back and shook his head again.

“Give me the phone, Tim.” He handed it to her.

“Hello? This is Detective Carter of the Philadelphia Police Department…No this isn’t a joke. No…I’m serious…yeah he told the truth….Mrs. Muller is dead, Mrs. Capaldi…No…listen…do not call the police...I don’t have time to explain. No…Don’t call the sheriff’s department. Get a phonebook or call information.” She coughed and rubbed her nose.

“Get the number of the FBI…yes…the FBI…No Mrs. Capaldi...no please don’t hang up. Right…the FBI. Tell them I told you to call…give them the Muller address and tell them to call social services...yes …Give them my name…Detective Donna Carter..Right…Philly police….Badge 7881...one sec.” She coughed again as tears came to her eyes.

“Mrs. Capaldi…tell them officer down at Muller location…yes off…..offf…” she hesitated as the tears streamed down her face.

“Gunshot wound… send ...Yes an ambulance….No…okay…..yes…say back to me what I just told you to do…yes FBI…yes...social services…Mrs. Capaldi?…I want you to take Ben..Anyone else there NO? Good...is this a cell phone? Good get the number get in your car and go to a mall or a public …a library will be great...make those calls …..ohhhkay? Yes...thanks...”

A half hour later they were pulled into the parking lot of the Lycoming Mall. She had repeated the process with Tim’s sister’s foster dad. McDonald’s drive-thru lunch sat on the seat between her and Tim. She looked at him as he once again rested his head against the door window. She turned on the radio.

“….Detective Spinetti had just transferred from another precinct. He was the son of newly appointed Deputy Police Commissioner Pasquale Spinetti. He was twenty-five. Authorities are looking for his partner, Detective Donna Carter, as a person of interest in the case. She is 36, at about 5’7’’ with blond hair. Anyone with information regarding this case should contact the State Police at 888-555-2728. And another tragic story. Popular Channel 6 Morning Host Karen Nowitski died today with her camera man, Dave Nader, in a one car accident on Route 80 just outside Bloomsburg. An investigation is underway to determine….” Donna snapped off the radio and blew out a breath. A second later her cell phone rang.

“Hello…hey hon…what? They think I did it? What? The Colt is missing? What..no… wait… Dani? Shit. I’m in Williamsport…yeah…okay…We’ll be at…..” She looked around the parking lot until she spotted what she was looking for.

“We’ll be at the movies in the Lycoming Mall, but first a trip to Penney’s…Yeah…I’ve got the boy with me…we’ll be in that Twilight Saga thing…yeah…Be careful…okay? Oh and Dani…look for two redheads…no…mother and ….daughter. And Dani…I love you!”

An hour later two figures stood in line for the two o’clock show. A mother with medium length red hair, dressed in cream colored slacks and sandals and a kelly green button down blouse and a chic short brown leather jacket. The daughter wore a green and black horizontal wide striped mini over black jersey leggings and black sketchers. Her green cardigan was tied around her neck by the sleeves. Her bright red hair was pulled back to reveal a new jade necklace and her ears were adorned with new hoop earrings. She looked much more comfortable and confident than her ‘mother’ had expected.

“I’m sorry we had to do this.” Donna said in an almost whisper.

“That’s okay...I actually wanted to see this movie.” Tim said.

“No...I meant…I’m sorry you had to…you know …dress like a girl. We have to hide, and they’ll be looking for a blonde woman and a red-headed boy. I’m sorry.” Donna shrugged.

“No…I don’t mind…it’s okay…you don’t have to apologize.” Tim said again, his soft high voice seemed to match his attire which was disconcerting.

“I mean…even at that…most boys…you know…would be…having to wear girl’s clothes.”

“Well, I guess that makes sense, but I don’t mind wearing girl’s clothes….since I’m a girl.” Tim smiled and Donna just stared before saying to herself.

“Son of bitch…she is a girl.”

Next: What Dreams May Come

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Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)
words and music by
Dave Steward and Annie Lennox
The Eurythmics
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qeMFqkcPYcg