Conceus God of Impregnation
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"When? How? What about my daughter?" I said, my voice sounding frantic even to my ears. I didn't know my wife and daughter, never met them, and I was still shocked. My breathing was rapid, and my pulse rate. Saliva filled my mouth. I swallowed.
Valdez said, "Your daughter is fine; she's with Child Protective Services. Your wife died from knife wounds."
I gasped, and I'm sure I suddenly looked very pale because I felt lightheaded.
Valdez continued, "She was murdered sometime between when she was last seen alive at midnight and six o'clock this morning when the body was discovered. The M.E. estimated time of death at 2:00 AM, give or take an hour."
"Was my daughter with my wife when she was killed?"
"No."
"Do you know who killed her?
"We have a suspect in custody," Valdez said.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"It means we have a suspect, and the suspect is in custody."
Doublespeak, I thought.
"Why was she killed?" I said.
"We're still working on that," Valdez said.
"All right. My daughter will need me. I'll travel to Vegas the quickest method available, and I'll want to talk with you while I'm there."
"I understand."
He gave me enough information to contact him and a woman from Child Protective Services who had custody of my daughter.
After I ended the call, I sat stunned. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up at Principal Early's concerned face.
"Some son of a bitch murdered my wife, Tom," I said.
"I know. What about your daughter?" he said.
"She's all right. Tom, were you aware that my wife left me the day I did battle with lightning?"
"No," he said.
"When I arrived home from the hospital, I found a note. She'd packed up and left that day, cleaned out our bank account before she left, and took my daughter with her. She filed for divorce using a Las Vegas law firm. I was served with the papers Saturday morning."
I dropped my eyes to my hands. "That she'd left me and filed for divorce didn't upset me because, with my memory loss, I didn't know her. I had no emotional connection with her. I don't know my daughter either, but she is my daughter. She's a little girl, and she's all alone down there. I've got to go to her."
"Of course you do, Coach. U.S. Air Express flies out of Yelland Field to Vegas. I'll have my secretary make a reservation for you."
"Soon, Tom. Today."
Tom nodded.
"It's Tuesday. I'll be in Vegas most of tomorrow, maybe longer. I want to find out what happened to Yvonne. I owe that much to her. How about I fly from Vegas to Winnemucca for the game Friday? I'll rent a car at the Winnemucca airport. No, a taxi will suffice," I said. I knew I sounded manic, but I couldn't stop talking. "Piper will be with me. Is that all right?" I took a deep breath. "No that won't work. She's only five years old. Someone will have to watch over her while I work. Maybe I can hire someone in Vegas. Yes, that's what I'll do." I stood up. "I need to talk to Orville, and I've got to pack." I pulled my debit card from my wallet. "Give that to your secretary to pay for the airline ticket to Vegas, a hotel in Vegas, too, maybe Circus Circus; kids like Circus Circus, I hear. Tell her a room with two beds for tonight and Wednesday and Thursday. See if she can reserve the flight from Vegas to Winnemucca Friday morning for Piper and me and a ... ah, nanny. I have the money, Tom. Since Yvonne left, I've won a goodly sum playing online Texas hold 'em, so I can handle the expenses. What am I leaving out, Tom?"
He shrugged, looking overwhelmed. Vera, his secretary, saved him. She'd been taking notes. Then she took my debit card from his hand.
"I'll handle everything, Coach," Vera said. "How will you and your daughter and the nanny get from Winnemucca to Ely? If the nanny is a temp, she might prefer to fly back to Vegas from Winnemucca. If she does, you and Piper can return to Ely with the team on the bus."
"Let's plan on doing it that way. By the way, I have a cell phone now," I said and gave the secretary the number. She jotted down the number. "Orville will handle the football team. What about my English classes?"
"We'll bring in a substitute teacher," Tom said. "Because of the away game, I had one set up for Thursday and Friday already. Don't worry; your English classes will be covered."
"Thanks. Could Orville ride with me to pack?" I said. "We need to discuss how to handle the football team in my absence."
"I'll have him paged now," Vera said.
"Oh, no! Funeral services," I muttered. "I'll need to arrange ... Christ! I don't know Yvonne's relatives! They should be notified. I don't know if her parents are still alive. Or their names if they are. Or where they live. Her brothers and sisters, if any! And my parents! Are they alive? My brothers and sisters, if I have any! Oh, shit! This is terrible!"
I took a deep breath to calm down and said, "Maybe Yvonne's effects will give me some clues." My shoulders slumped. "Being an amnesiac is horrible. I've been so alone, but I've handled it, but this ... this is terrible!" My face fell into my hands, but I had a sudden idea and snapped my head upright. "I'll hire a private investigator to track everyone down. That's what I'll do. Tom, you've got records about my past that I don't have, where I went to college, where I coached before, right?"
"Yes," he said.
"A good private investigator can start with your records and work backwards. I'll hire one while I'm in Vegas. He'll have time to track everyone down. The police won't release the body right away."
Orville arrived at the administrative offices. I quickly filled him in on what had happened. "Ride with me. I'll tell you about my itinerary and how you fit in while I pack."
He nodded, and Orville and I left the school. My plans changed a little while we talked. Orville said it would be better if he drove his SUV to Winnemucca. His wife would go with him, and she'd tend Piper during the game. Piper and I could ride back to Ely with them. I called Vera with this change. I wouldn't need an extra airline ticket from Vegas to Winnemucca.
"You're a friend, Orville," I said.
"Yes I am," he said.
Elizabeth called me on my cell phone while I was waiting to board my flight to Vegas.
"I heard," she said when I told her that Yvonne had been murdered. "I just got off the phone with her attorney. What do you know about what happened, John?"
"Next to nothing. The police lieutenant who called me wasn't very forthcoming. He did say that he had a suspect, and the suspect was in custody."
"What I have might not be the truth, John."
"Tell me anyway."
"Yvonne didn't leave you to go off by herself."
"I'm not surprised. Someone had to be paying for her living expenses in Vegas and the legal fees for her end of the divorce," I said.
"She met a man from Vegas at one of the casinos here in Ely when you were at an away game. She left you for him."
"What is his name?"
"Anthony Ferrari."
"Mafia?" I said.
"He might be connected; I don't know. What I do know for sure is that he's a pimp, albeit a high-class pimp. Ferrari is the suspect the police had in custody. Notice the past tense. After the police lieutenant talked to you, a high-priced lawyer arrived, and the police were forced to either arrest Ferrari for Yvonne's murder or let him go. They let him go. Yvonne's divorce lawyer told me that Ferrari recruits women from small towns, brings them to Vegas with promises of excitement and riches and love, and then turns them out. The lawyer spent some time with Yvonne. He thinks she refused to go along with Ferrari's plans for her, so he killed her as an object lesson for the other call girls in his string."
"Christ, what a mess," I muttered.
"Her lawyer is guessing. Please, don't get involved, John. Let the police handle this."
"I can't get involved. I don't know my daughter, but she is my daughter, my flesh and blood, and I'm the only parent she has now. I have to think of her first."
I heard Elizabeth's large sigh of relief. "You're a good man, John Windom," she said.
"Maybe you can help me with another problem," I said and told her about my need for a private investigator. "I need a name or an individual or a company, Elizabeth, someone who'll fill in some holes in my past. Intuitively, I don't think picking an investigator out of the yellow pages is the appropriate approach."
She laughed. "You're right about that. I'll do some research and call you."
"Thanks. They're boarding, Elizabeth. Gotta go. I'll call you from Vegas after I land."
In my past life as Aaron MacDonald, I had not believed in love at first sight. Lust at first sight, yes, but not love. I believed love arrived slowly in increments through experiencing many emotional moments with another person.
I was wrong.
The split-second I first saw my daughter, I fell deeply, irrevocably in love with her, not romantic love, of course, but love nonetheless. In the past, I'd also believed that to love someone meant you were more concerned about the other person's happiness than your own. I got that one right.
Piper, my five-year-old daughter, was adorable, and I adored her instantly. Her frightened, worried look tore at my heart. She was so... small! Light brown, wavy hair, almost blonde, bright blue eyes. Did Yvonne have blue eyes? I didn't know.
Then she saw me, and her face brightened. She let go of the woman's hand she was holding and ran to me.
"Daddy!" her little voice exclaimed as her spindly legs thrashed to get to me. "Daddy!"
I knelt and held out my arms, and she ran into them. I hugged her tight and stood up. "I love you, Piper," I whispered in her ear as she hung onto my neck as if it were a life preserver.
"I love you, too," she said with a tiny voice that echoed sweet and clear in my mind. Tears stung my eyes.
"Mommy's in heaven, Daddy," she said, the words breaking with emotion.
"I know, but we've got each other. I'm here for you, dear Piper. I'll never let you go again. I'll protect you and love you always and forever."
For the first time in my life, either life, my life had real meaning and purpose.
Wednesday morning, with my daughter's small hand in mine, we walked into a building that housed the office of Lieutenant Valdez with the LVPD. In short order, we were ushered into his small office. I introduced myself and Piper, and then said, "Is there someone who can watch over my daughter while we talk?"
Valdez nodded and reached for a phone. Moments later a police woman arrived, and Piper left with her. I sat in a hard chair in front of the lieutenant's desk. He was maybe forty-five, obviously Hispanic, maybe some Native American blood, as well. Weak jaw and narrow shoulders. Brawn didn't make him a leader of men in the police force, which probably meant he was a smart man.
I elected not to telegraph that I knew more than he'd told me.
"Did you arrest the suspect you have in custody?" I said.
"No. We didn't have enough evidence to arrest him. He lawyered-up, and we were forced to release him. The investigation is ongoing."
"Do you have another suspect?"
"No."
"Do you believe the man you released murdered my wife?"
"Yes, but proving it will be difficult."
"Do you have motive?"
"We believe we do."
"And that motive is... ?"
Valdez sat back in his chair. "You're a large man. Strong. Do you have a temper?"
I smiled. "Everyone has a temper. If you're worried that I will go after this man myself, put your mind at rest. The well-being of my daughter comes first. My wife left me, Lieutenant. Before she left, she cleaned out our bank account. She also took my daughter with her. Last Saturday, I was served with divorce papers. I did not contest the divorce. I did object to Yvonne's demand for full custody of our daughter. I'll tell you why in a moment, but first there's more you should know about me. The day Yvonne left I was struck by lightning. When I regained consciousness, I didn't know my name. I have retrograde amnesia, Lieutenant, which means I don't know my wife. I don't know my daughter, either, but I feel strongly that my daughter, any child for that matter, should have a father in her life. That's why I opposed full custody. I'm telling you this so you understand that I don't have strong feelings about what happened to my wife. In my mind, a mind with no memories, we've never met. Still, I believe I should know what happened to her. I'd be grateful if you told me what you know and what you surmise, so Piper and I can put this sad time behind us and go on with the rest of our lives."
I waited. He seemed to be considering my request, so I gave him incentive to talk. "The money in our bank account wasn't much, Lieutenant. I'm a high school football coach in a small school. I don't make very much money. What she took from our account would not be enough to handle her living expenses in Vegas or pay legal fees to initiate a divorce, which means someone was helping her financially, which also means that she left me for another man. That man, Lieutenant, was not local, not from Ely that is. He probably lives in Vegas. Is this man your suspect?"
Valdez said nothing, but seconds later he nodded. "Yes. He's a pimp but doesn't think of himself as a pimp. He owns and operates an escort service, but plain and simple, he is a pimp. We surmise he lured your wife from Ely to Vegas by telling her that he loved her and promising to give her the good things in life. This is his standard method of operation, how he recruits new women to his stable. At first, the women are sent out to be companions for lonely men, but only as companions. He slowly introduces them to prostitution. He's very good at what he does. But, we surmise that your wife rebelled, not regarding being a companion for a lonely man for an evening, but rather to becoming a prostitute."
"Good for her," I said.
"Her rebellion caused her death," Valdez said.
"No, the pimp caused her death," I said. "You said the investigation is ongoing. You also said that it would be difficult to prove that he killed my wife. Is this pimp going to get away with murder, Lieutenant?"
Valdez said nothing, which told me everything.
I nodded.
"When will my wife's body be released?" I said.
"I don't know," he said.
"Give me a range. Two days? A week? Longer?"
"Longer than a week, less than a month," he said.
I nodded again. "I have another problem, Lieutenant. With my amnesia, I don't have a past. In my mind, neither does my wife. I have no way to contact Yvonne's relatives about her death and the funeral because I don't know who they are. I don't know how to contact my relatives, for the same reason. To that end, I hired a private investigator to determine the names and contact information of my relatives and Yvonne's. It occurred to him that Yvonne might have some files or other information in her effects that would assist him in his effort. May I or the investigator search wherever she was living and have access to her personal property?"
He pursed his lips. "Give me the name of your doctor. Before I give you or your investigator access right now—as next of kin, you'd have access later, by the way—I want to verify that you are indeed an amnesiac."
I grimaced with effort and finally said, "I don't remember his name." I chuckled. "But his name is not tied to my amnesia. I just don't remember the name of the doctor who treated me. Call the hospital in Ely; there's only one hospital. And ask for the doctor who treated Coach John Windom after I was struck by lightning. You can call my boss, the principal at the school, that's White Pine High School. His name is Tom Early. Tom and most of the teachers know about my amnesia, and all of the students know. And you can call my attorney, Ms. Elizabeth Conner. She told me that she knew me before my wrestling match with high voltage electricity. I hired her after that event to handle my divorce by picking her name out of the yellow pages."
He had jotted down the facts that I'd given him without commenting, so I stood to leave.
"Call me or my investigator with your decision." I gave him my cell phone number and the investigator's name and contact number. "I'll be in Vegas until Friday morning when I'll be flying to Winnemucca to coach a football game." I gave him my cell phone number and left his office.
Piper was sitting on a chair next to the police woman in the corridor. When she saw me, she hopped off the chair and ran to me. I took her hand, and we walked out of the building.
"Do you like to shop?" I said.
"Uh-huh. Mommy sometimes took me shopping with her."
"What clothes do you need?"
"Underwear," she said. "Mommy said some of my underwear is getting ... ah, string bare."
"Do you mean threadbare?"
"Uh-huh."
"Do you have warm clothes for winter?"
"I have a coat," she said.
"Is it warm enough to wear playing in the snow?"
She shrugged her little shoulders. "It's too small." She giggled. "Mommy said I've been growing up."
"Let's go back to the hotel room and check out the clothes you have in your suitcase. Then we'll go shopping to buy what you need."
"'Kay. I like bright colors," she said, "red and yellow and orange."
"No grays or browns?" I said.
"No. I like white, though."
I had a blast shopping with the little girl, so I probably went overboard. We had to pick out a set of luggage to hold all her new clothes for the flight to Winnemucca.
With the funeral pending, I bought a black dress for Piper and a black suit for me. The suit was off the rack, so it needed extensive alterations. I made arrangements to have the suit shipped to Ely.
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