Book Three: Part 7 - Varied Evil - Chapter 15

The Baker-Manning Home

111 Homestead Lane – 7:30 p.m.

“… and that’s where things stand for right now, Leon. I spoke to Ed about this when we had lunch today, and he agrees you should stay here until we can find a relative to take you in and raise you.”

She looked at Stevie.

“Sorry for not saying anything to you sooner, but ….”

“It’s cool, mom. I’m good with it. No need to say more. Besides, it’s good having Leon around.”

“Missus Baker, I don’t know what to say. I ‘preciate what you doin’. I don’t know ‘bout no relatives. Momma talked ‘bout her sister, I think. I think she said her name is Jane or Joyce, sumptin’ like that. That’s all I can remember. Never did have a daddy around.”

“It’s a start, Leon,” said Baker.

“Hey, Leon, let’s go into my room and play some video games, or do you want to watch a movie?”

“Can we do both?”

Stevie smiled. “You bet’cha we can!”

Tuesday – April 17th

The Squad Room – 8:38 a.m.

“We had a busy day, yesterday. A heads up to Lowery and Banyard for their performance. Though two lives were lost yesterday, through their diligence, they managed to help save another life in the process. The cashier is doing well and resting after surgery. Congrats, guys.

“Poncho and Cisco? Today is your day to entertain the kids at Westwood Junior High this morning. It’s time for the do’s and don’ts.

“Clausen and Klugston? You two will relieve James and Marshallton over at the 2500 block on Melrose East. There’s a broken watermain, and a traffic down. The city has been working on restoring the light over thirty minutes, and the water works division since five this morning. Until they can get both fixed, we’ll be rotating uniforms. You two are it for this shift.”

Baker started passing out packets to each officer in the room.

“I’ve saved the best for last. Inside, you will see a dozen photographs of one Jesse Waynestead, who also happens to be the brother of Claire Waynestead, who, if most of you remember, was killed in my old residence over a year ago.

“This is the man we believe is responsible for Captain Todd, and his wife, Elaine, as well as several others. On your route today, and for the next several days, pass the pictures around to every business you can. This includes restaurants, fast food places, and motels.

“Sometime today, the local, as well as national news will do a cover story on Waynestead. Be advised; outside of Freddy, Jesse Waynestead is a very violent and lethal individual. Do not try to approach or apprehend this man without backup.

“We can speculate on the other gruesome killings by him, but if they were like those of Captain Todd and his wife, then do not—I repeat, do not misunderstand my words when I say if you allow him to get to close to you without backup, you may not be able to restrain this man. He has the capability to tear your throat to shreds.

“Hit his ass with a taser about a dozen times, that’ll bring him down,” said Rawlings.

“You read my mind. I’ve been authorized by Captain Satchell that each of you will get an additional three tasers just for this purpose.”

J.W. spoke up.

“Did that to a guy in Beaumont. Both me and my partner hit this guy. He shook, but the crazy s.o.b. grabbed the coils, and pulled the tasers right out of our hands, and still came at us. We ended up shooting him seven times before he stopped and hit the pavement.

“All I’m say is that this Waynestead character could be just that bad, or worse.”

“Good point, J.W. If push comes to shove, and Waynestead offers no other recourse, take him out.

“Okay, guys, you know what’s going on. Any questions? If not, then get out there and stay safe, and keep our streets safe.”

Milford, New York

McDonald’s – 11:36 a.m.

Sitting in the parking lot, eating one of three double cheeseburgers, and sipping on a vanilla shake, Jesse was listening to the radio in his van. Midway through a swallow of one burger, about to start another, he paused long enough to turn the radio up.

“A statewide alert is out for recently released inmate, Jesse Waynestead. He is listed as 6’3” to 6’5”, 275 pounds, with several tattoos on his body of which three are on his head as well as both arms.

“He is wanted for questioning in the former police captain, Raymond Todd, and his wife, Elaine Todd, found dead in California. Mr. Todd was the former captain of the Montie police department for over twenty years when he retired. Waynestead is also wanted for questioning in a series of five, possibly six other gruesome murders.

“Police ask that if you spot this person, please call their hotline number at ….”

Jesse shut the radio off. He grinned.

“So, they found out it was me. Big deal. It won’t stop me from tearing her head off her shoulders.”

After he finished eating, he pulled away from the parking lot and headed southwest. He would be in Montie within three hours.

Baseball Practice

Montie High School – 4:23 p.m.

Stevie was at third base sending signals to both runners, as well as each batter with an easy fluid motion. He could do this in his sleep. Up in the stands were Baker, Ed, Ellie, and Leon.

Practice would be over in thirty minutes, then the team would be off Wednesday, back on the field Thursday for two hours, then Friday night they would play their home opener against Jefferson High.

Things were going well, until Craig Cottle came up to the plate and hit the first pitch that sent a line drive hitting Stevie in the head. Stevie never saw it coming, it was that quick.

Coach Brian rushed from the dugout toward Stevie, as well as Baker and Ed. Leon just sat on the bleachers and was crying. So was Ellie as she held onto his hand.

Coach Brian called for an ambulance.

“Forget that, coach! I’m taking him to emergency, now! Call the hospital and tell them I’m bringing in my son.”

Picking Stevie up in her arms wasn’t easy. At 155, and 5’8”, he wasn’t a child any longer. Ed, helping to carry some of the weight of Stevie, yelled out for Leon and Ellie to get in the Hummer.

With Ed driving, they made the drive in twelve minutes, and rushed through the emergency doors, explaining as they went what happened to Stevie.

An orderly ushered them into an examination room where Baker laid Stevie down on an exam bed. Two nurses and a doctor came in asking questions that were answered quickly.

The doctor checked Stevie’s pupils, as one of the nurses named Lorraine, checked his pulse and blood pressure.

“Lorraine,” said the doctor, Mike Greensmith, “get the boy on an I.V., 200 milligrams of Mannitol. Then get him over to x-ray and I want that stat. Move it!” To the other nurse he said, “Janet, monitor the I.V. for five minutes.”

Looking at Baker he said, “You must be the boy’s mother. So you know, the Mannitol is used to reduce subarachnoid space pressure, in the event he may have severe damage. The x-rays will tell us more.”

“What does that mean?”

“I won’t know how serious his condition is until I see the x-rays. His eyes showed no sign of recognizing light patterns. It could be a concussion. It could mean damage to his cranium. It could be nothing more than a severe bruise that will hurt for a while.

“If it is a concussion, I advise you not to have him play baseball, at least not for the rest of this season. He’s young, but if he sustained another hit to the head, the results may prove worse than they may already be.

“Professional athletes get concussions all the time, and in professional football, concussions have been proven to be a direct link with brain damage and cognitive thinking. At your son’s age, the precaution here is not to let him play the game.”

“But he wasn’t playing, Ellie cried. “He was a third base coach!”

“He’s gonna die, ain’t he, mister.”

The doctor looked down at Leon, who had tears streaming down his cheeks. Baker’s gut wrenched when she heard Leon’s words.

“No, son, he isn’t going to die.”

“That’s what you all said about my momma, and she died!”

Baker knelt beside Leon.

“Stevie isn’t going to die, Leon. I promise you he won’t.”

“You promised me a miracle, too. That didn’t happen either! I don’t want to live with you anymore!”

Ed took a few steps forward toward Leon and softly said, “I’ll make a deal with you, Leon. If things don’t work out here, then you can leave. If everything works out okay, you stay. Agreed?”

Leon looked at Ed’s determined eyes, then into Baker’s.

“It, it’s just, I just lost my momma, and I never had a brother before. I don’t want to lose him, too.”

Lorraine stepped back into the room.

“Doctor, they are ready to do the x-rays.”

“Wheel him up to five. Put him on full stats and keep a continual monitoring on his conditions every thirty minutes, no—make that every fifteen until you hear from me. Once I see the x-rays, I’ll know the next step.”

Turning to Baker and Ed, he said, “You can visit with him, say in about an hour. We need time to set things up; then you can come stay with him, but don’t be worried if he doesn’t respond any time soon.

Sixteen minutes later, Dr. Mike Greensmith was staring at the x-rays. Not good, not bad. But the boy’s playing days were over.

Room 506 – 5:17 p.m.

The sounds inside the room were kept at a whisper of hopes and prayers.

Dr. Greensmith entered the room.

“Mr. and Mrs. Baker,” Baker looked at Ed, winked and gave him a small smile. “I’ve looked over the x-rays and have confirmed this with another attending physician that surgery will be necessary.”

“Surgery? Why? What did you find? asked Baker.

“He has about a one-inch crack along his cranium, and the radial area already has a good portion of fluid developing, and if we wait too long it will start to congeal. I strongly advise you to give us permission to perform a surgical procedure now where we can relieve the pressure from his brain. This would mean draining the mass fluid; cutting away that portion of the damaged skull cap and replacing it with a thin portion of titanium steel.”

“He is going to die, isn’t he?” Baker was looking at Stevie as she asked, tears welling where one slowly slid down her cheek.

“No, Mrs. Baker. But without this surgery, your son may end up with partial paralysis as in loss of speech and possibility his sight. With corrective surgery, we can have your son back with you before you know it.”

“Than what are you waiting for. Give me the forms to fill out and save my son.”

Dr. Greensmith handed her the form attached to a clipboard, where Baker hurriedly scrawled her name and handed it back to him.

“I can say two things at this point. In forty-eight hours, we will know how his progress will be after the surgery, and secondly; do not allow him to play any contact sport in the future. To do so could jeopardize his life if he sustains another injury like this.”

With the form signed, the doctor gone, and two orderlies coming into the room to transport Stevie to surgery, Baker clasped Stevie’s hand and whispered, “Come back to us, bub. We love you. I love you.”

He was in surgery within thirty minutes and prepped. It was a surgery that took over four hours to perform.