Chapter Two: With Child

DALLAS, TEXAS

Medical Examiner’s Office

January 7, 4:54 p.m.

Tamara June stood quietly over Margaret Valor’s body. She placed her tape recorder to the side, glancing back at Margaret and sliding a sheet over her. A soft show-tune piece murmured in the edge of the bright room. Tamara’s shoes softly thumped on the linoleum floor as she turned up her portable radio, her warm smile etched clearly on her face.

   The whole room was bare and stereotypical. A few metal tables sat here and there, a large white ceiling lamp swung slightly above someone’s corpse, utensils were scattered in plain sight, but hidden neatly in drawers. It was yellow, though. That seemed a little different to Tamara, or, different, at least, from other offices she had worked in. It was too cold, howbeit, especially added in with the whipping chill from the Dallas breeze. Weather and heat could be worked around, though. It wasn’t a terrible work environment at all.

   It would be nice if Tamara had some better company, granted. She had a few assistants, but they would come and go, so her only official office acquaintance was Doug Boudewijn, who she couldn’t help but to think badly of. She was almost positive he was stealing (let alone his terrible personality). He had to be. Where in the hell were all of her red ink pens?! It wasn’t a gargantuan problem that needed to be nipped in the bud immediately, but it occasionally annoyed a girl when she needed her damn pens.

   Tamara swept a strand of flax hair behind her shoulder and called Ed. He seemed irritated, so she’d just be short and sweet about it.

   “You and Hardy should get down here. There’s something important that… It wouldn’t be, well, appropriate to announce on the phone, you know?”

   Ed grumbled about idiots and secondhand smoking issues before saying, “Yeah, we’ll be there in a bit.” They hung up without a goodbye.

   Tamara despised leaving without goodbyes. They always did it on chestnut television shows. It was so cliché. What makes a person so haughty that they are too good for a short farewell? Damn, manners came and went, Tamara thought to herself.

   Doug opened the door, walking in and sitting in a spinning office chair beside Tamara. “Yo, what it do?”

   Tamara rolled her eyes, slipping her phone back in her scrubs and glaring at Doug. “The victim has no medical records, yes?”

   “Well, she went to the dentist when she was, like, six, but that’s it. It’s terrible, too. No shots after birth? Who does that? That also means she had to be home schooled, because schools make you get shots, but before she got to graduate, she skipped town.”

   Tamara nodded. “She ran away from her foster family, okay, but how would she be able to manage a job?”

   “Girl’s been paid for all her life, Tammy. Her foster parents were filthy rich, the Valors, yeah, so when she skipped, I’m guessing she took a hunk of green with her.”

   Tamara nodded, sitting down, too. She frowned. “Why is your hair blue?”

   Doug grinned. “You noticed, Tammy!” He ruffled his short, curly locks. “Cool, right? It’s a dark tone, though, so no one gets on my a*s ‘bout it.”

   Tamara smiled, but was not amused. “You’re pathetic, kid.”

   Doug laughed heartily. “I could say the same about you, valley girl.”

   “What do you mean by that?” She stood, crossing her arms.

   “Blonde, tan, blue eyes, high pitch, from Cali,” Doug explained. “It’s a label strongly residing in you.”

   Tamara groaned. “You’re so irritating.” She curled her fingers on the edge of a cool metal table and leaned on it. “I’m from Alaska,” She added, deigning.

   “Whatever, you keep on lying to yourself, Tammy.” Doug exited the room.

   Tamara thought of many ways to murder Doug that moment.

   Ed and Halle entered at 5:29 p.m., cutting her drawn out plans to torture Doug with a blowtorch short, and she placed her usual, cookie-cutter smile on. “Hello, detectives.”

   Halle offered a grin. “I didn’t get to give congrats earlier. I heard someone was pregnant.”

   Tamara blushed. “Of course, it’s me. Hurrah. Greg and I are elated. Actually, that’s kind of what you two are here about.”

   Ed’s face dropped. He pulled anxiously on the hem of his coat sleeve and frowned. “You made us drive thirty minutes out here to talk about your baby bump?”

   Tamara laughed. “No, no, that’s not exactly it. Your victim, Margaret, she has only visited hospitals, et cetera, when she was in custody of social services. The Valors never took her to a doctor but once, and that was a dentist at six. I was observing her in my autopsy and the girl… she’s been with child before.”

   Ed scratched his scalp. “That means… what?”

   “Your girl’s had a home pregnancy. I can’t tell when she had this baby, but I know she has. There might by a Margaret Jr. out there, maybe even hurt like her?”

   Halle swallowed hard. “Okay, um, what age was she? Did you say you didn’t know?”

   Tamara nodded. “She could have been ten or even twenty. There’s no telling right now.”

   Halle turned to Ed. “I think we need to talk to her friends again. Maybe the baby’s father wanted his kid back? Who would know best than her friends who this guy is? We should talk to her parents, too-”

   “They’re dead. The Valors died in a plane crash on New Year’s.” Ed closed his eyes. “An ex-boyfriend goes into a jealous rage that Rita, so popular, so pretty, gets his child, and shows her what it means to not have a thing anymore by torturing her?”

   “You scare me sometimes, Ed.” Tamara admitted. She nodded, though. “I think you may be on the right track. Also, speak with any local pastors. I don’t know about you, but when you were a crucifix around your neck, you usually go to church, too, and Rita looks like an innocent person. I doubt she wouldn’t confess about her pregnancy.”

   Ed got another call. “Damn it all to hell…” He glanced up. “Sorry- I have a call. Mom,” He explained to the women, leaving.

   At the opportunity, Tamara crossed the room to Halle, taking her in a tight embrace. “Oh, are you okay, Halle-Hun?”

   Halle cocked her head. “Is it about- It was two weeks ago. I got over it. It happens. Anyways, the shot didn’t kill him-”

   Tamara’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you making excuses? Halle, I’m sorry, but you can’t bottle everything up and say you did nothing. It happened. Do you need help, Hal?”

   Halle glared at Tamara, growling, “Everyone’s saying I’m broken and torn, blah, blah, blah, but I’m telling you now: I’m okay. I am fine. I’ve said it a billion times and I’m saying it again… I’m fine.” Halle’s eyes were red and burning with tears threatening to spill over- but no. She was stronger than that. She didn’t need to cry. She was fine, right? She had said it herself, one billion and one times.

   “I should go talk to Shadan and Fenmore again.” Halle tried to excuse herself from the room, but Ed opened the door on her. “No, Diana said you are staying at the precinct for these.”

   Halle’s jaw dropped. “But I can handle this!”

   “You have office work with Gil. John is coming with me for the questionings because I think we need to bring them in. You stay at the precinct, understand?”

   Halle almost burst into tears right then and there. “Take me.” She pushed past him roughly, walking out.

   Ed stared sadly at Tamara. A pained, apologetic look could be plainly seen on his face, and an exonerating look on Tamara’s. He grabbed her hand, squeezing it. “Call me if anything else turns up, Tamara.”

   The girl nodded. She watched Ed exit, closing the door behind him. Tamara took grasp of the familiar little tape recorder once more and pressed in the record button.

   “The victim’s wounds are severe and were inflicted before death…”

 

DALLAS, TEXAS

Dallas Police Department

January 7, 6:02

A gentle tingle ran through Halle’s fingers, biting at her. She rested her hands on the keyboard, putting her head down. The computer radiated light on her, creating a crested silhouette. Paperwork always wore her out. It wasn’t natural for her to sit in a spinning chair for hours typing whatever she had met earlier when there was no point. She wrote it in notepads, spoke it with her captain and fellow detectives, she didn’t need to type it, too.

   The sound of rolling wheels woke her from her almost-slumber. She looked up to see Christian Gillard- or, how everyone else called him, Gil. He was scratching his buzzed ebon hair, observing Halle’s work. “Linda is G-H-F-F-A-J-K-Z…” He smirked. “You’re delirious.”

   “And you’re an a*s.” Halle yawned, stretching her arms out. “Of course I’m delirious, Gil. I’m annoyed with typing.”

   “Ditto,” He muttered, crossing his arms. “Do you want some coffee?”

   “I really need to finish this work,” Halle moaned. “Ed will be pissed if I don’t.”

   Gil broke out in snickers. “Why? Is it because he’ll have to do it instead? The lazy b*****d can deal with it. I’ll get us coffees and you’re going to look at this website I found. It’s about the case anyways- so Ed won’t get onto us.” He grinned sneakily, perfect teeth showing. He stood from his chair, pulling down his button-up and walking out of the room.

   It was a large room, cluttered with desks and file cabinets and corridors leading to interrogation rooms and offices. Halle was on the far left corner, her desk beside Ed’s, across from John’s, and cattycornered from Gil’s. They were all covered in papers and files- except John’s. He was neat. Halle had no clue how.

   “Speak of the devil,” mumbled Halle, watching as salt-and-pepper haired John Posh walked past her, leading Linda Fenmore into an interrogation room.

   Ed came in shortly after. He clarified quickly, “She wasn’t at Shiva’s party. Those cups are a year old; had a date on the bottom. Idiot,” He shrugged, going into the room behind John, closing the door.

   Halle groaned loudly, lulling her head over the back of her chair. “Ugh… I deserve to be in there! It’s my damn case!” She ran her fingers through her hair nervously, smiling warmly as Gil staggered in, trying not to burn his hands on the hot Styrofoam cups. “I put hazelnut creamer in yours. You like that, right?”

   Halle nodded, taking the cup from him and sipping at it. It was basically blazing, but she didn’t mind. She was accustomed to hot coffee. Well, not accustomed to anything but black coffee, so typecast, but she could deal. Gil hadn’t gotten her coffee since her first day. They barely ever talked. They weren’t partners, why talk anyway? She saw him watching her in deep thought and noised a positive, throaty sound, taking another small drink. “Thank you, Gil.”

   Gil motioned that it wasn’t a big deal and took a packet of sugar from his pocket, stirring it in with a thin straw. “The website is about conspiracy theories across America, and I was glancing through as I was taking a… break from my papers when I found a familiar name: Valor. I heard about the Valor case on the news not too long ago, so I looked into it, and the theory is that in the forties, Anne Valor was a worker in a little asylum and fell in love with a patient. This patient was completely loony. He hit her over the head and she went bonkers, too. A day later, he was released because he was ‘cured.’ The man was never crazy, or, so says the theory. He and the hospital staff wanted to rid of Anne because she was going to reveal that the doctors had been raping female crazies. He was never put in trial because everyone blamed Anne’s bump on the head by accident. The person who came up with this theory is a patient too, so we can’t be sure it’s viable. Anne Valor did have a child after she was crazy though.”

   “Okay, so… why is this relevant?” Halle asked.

   Gil looked at the ground, taking a sip from his cup. “I dunno,” He slurred. “I just thought it was weird, especially that Mr. Valor was born in an asylum. Gross, yeah?”

   Halle raised her cup. “Disgusting,” she toasted. “Is it even backed up by facts?”

   Gil nodded. “Pictures,” He offered. “Anyway, I just thought it’d be something you’d be interested in. I got to go, though. I’ve got a date.” A sparkle appeared in his eyes. He blushed grabbing his brown leather jacket and hiding a grin.

   “What’s her name?” Halle grinned.

   Gil slipped his arms through the sleeves of his jacket, looking at her. “Her name is…” He frowned. “Well, I hope I’m not pronouncing it wrong… but it’s Shiva.”

   Every bit of happiness dropped from Halle’s face. “What?”

   “She’s moving to Denison, but I just had to ask her out.”

   “Gil, you know she’s involved in my case, right?”

   Gil smirked. “Yes. She told me. It’s not my case, though. It thought it’d be irrelevant to inform you of that. It’s my personal life, not yours. Why do I have to confirm my relationships with you, huh?”

   “You don’t, but she may be a killer!” Halle stood, crossing her arms. She shook her head. “You can’t go out with a murderer!”

   “Innocent until proven guilty, Hal. Have you even been?” He glared at her, burning a hole through her.

   Strikes of lightning-like pain ran through Halle. How could he say that?! “Go.”

   “It’ll be my pleasure,” He retorted, storming out.

   Halle’s eyes burned red once again that day. She stuffed her face into the arm of her cardigan and muffled her crying.