Chapter 33

  Shawn was taken to the local hospital, where he was treated for his gunshot wound and received several stitches to his head. He was just coming around after surgery when he looked up and saw a woman in a white smock standing at the foot of his bead and looking over his chart. The doctor was no stranger to gunshot wounds and greeted Shawn with a warm smile.

  “You’re a very lucky man, Mr. Harris. The slug passed right through without doing any major damage; however, I’m afraid you’ve lost a lot of blood. It was a good thing someone plugged the holes up with what looks like cheap toilet paper.

  It also appears that you are no stranger to gunshot wounds. And if I’m not mistaken, you still have a small amount of what appears to be shrapnel in your back. Did you get those wounds in Vietnam?”

  Shawn didn’t answer and asked, “And who are you?”

  “Oh, forgive me. I’m Doctor Peterson. I did that little patch job on you.”

  “Thanks, Doc. When can I get the hell out of here?”

  “I’m afraid you’re in no condition to go anywhere for a few days. And as far as your release, that’s not up to me. I’m afraid there’s a police detective out in the hall who wants to talk with you. I don’t think he’s at all pleased with what you did. He mentioned something about taking matters into your own hands regarding a suspected killer and not informing the police?”

  Not wanting to trouble the doctor with his problems, Shawn let her know that he had every right to do what he did. “That man was my stepfather, and he killed my mother five years ago. I just did what the cops couldn’t seem to do. By the way, is he dead?”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your mother, Mr. Harris. As for your stepfather, I’ll let the detective answer your questions. Do you want to talk with the detective now, or do you want to rest?”

  She gave Shawn a beautiful smile that made her face light up. The young doctor wasn’t the most attractive woman he had ever laid eyes on, but she sure had a great bedside manner.

  “Send in the dragon slayer. I might as well get it over with.”

  Doctor Peterson raised her eyebrows and nodded. “I’m only going to give him ten minutes, and then you need to get some rest. I’ll come by tomorrow and see how you’re doing.” She made some notes on his chart, gave him a wink, and said, “I’ll be back later to check up on you, Mr. Harris,” then she turned and left the room.

  For the first time, Shawn noticed that his right leg was shackled to the bed frame. Immediately after the police arrived at the crash scene and before the ambulance arrived, Shawn was questioned about his involvement in the car chase and his bullet wound. Before he was taken to the hospital, Shawn explained to the officer about his stepfather’s involvement in his mother’s death and everything that went down at the garage and car chase that ended there.

  *****

  The North Miami police detective told Shawn that he wasn’t being charged with any crime at this time. He then asked Shawn if he wanted to be advised by an attorney and have him present before he asked him any questions. When Shawn declined, he turned on his recorder and listened patiently as Shawn told him his story. He only interrupted him a few times to clarify a few points. When Shawn was finished spoon-feeding the detective his story, he took a sip of water and set the glass down.

  The detective took off his reading glasses, folded his notebook, and put his pen back in his shirt pocket. He sighed and said, "Well, young man, that was a very interesting story. So you're telling me that you don't intend to kill your stepfather. You were just going to kick the shit out of him and then call the police."

  Shawn paused for a long time before he answered the man. He nodded and said, "I admit that initially, I did intend to kill him. But I couldn't do it. After I found him, I followed him to his garage. I just wanted to inflict some pain on him and let the police and the courts take it from there."

  "But your stepfather pulled the gun on you?"

  "That's right."

  The door to Shawn's room suddenly opened, and a large, matronly nurse walked in with a no-nonsense look.

  "I'm afraid your time is up, detective. My patient needs his rest."

  "No problem. I think I have all that I need for now anyway."

  Before the detective left the room, Shawn said, "It didn't end the way I intended."

  The detective looked puzzled, "What do you mean?"

  "I didn't intend for him to die that way."

  "They didn't tell you?"

  "Tell me what?"

  "Your stepfather isn't dead. He's in a coma, but his chances aren't good."

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  With that, the detective wished Shawn a speedy recovery and left the room.

  *****

  The detective did his homework on both men, the one lying in a coma and the one in the hospital bed that he had just interviewed. There was probably no doubt that Jack Thomas had killed his wife. However, he hadn’t been convicted of that crime in a court of law. Although he didn’t believe in vigilante justice, he had compassion for the young man and understood his motives. He looked into Shawn’s service records and was impressed with what he was able to find. He wasn’t a simple grunt. The Green Beret had at least three purple hearts, one bronze, and two silver stars. He also learned that he had been busted several times for insubordination. His service records for the last two years were so classified that even his top-level connections in the military couldn’t find anything on the man.

  The fifty-five-year-old detective had seen action in WW2 at Guadalcanal and the Solomon Islands in the Pacific Theater. He was a Second Marine Raider Battalion member that took the airfield on Guadalcanal. He fought alongside Gunnery Sergeant Shawn Basilone, the first Marine Medal of Honor recipient for his actions against the Japanese defenders on Guadalcanal and who was later killed in action at Iwo Jima by mortar shrapnel. He felt some kindred toward the young soldier lying in the hospital bed but was also a law enforcement officer sworn to uphold the law.

  The detective searched Jack’s garage and had the VW Bug with stolen plates impounded. From the evidence they found, Shawn’s story about the fight inside the garage checked out. They pulled the slug from the wall that had gone through Shawn’s chest and it matched the gun on the garage floor as did the slugs recovered from the Buick’s door. The gun contained latent prints from both Jackson and Harris. The VW was registered to a Carlos Garza who claimed he sold it to a long haired hippie that fit Harris’s description. They also found a wig and some hippie clothes in the back seat along with a Smith & Wesson Model 36, with the serial number ground off, in the glove box.

  The detective walked down the hospital hallway until he came to the room where a fifty-pound overweight cop was stationed outside Shawn’s room. The two men spoke briefly, and the cop packed up his things and walked away.

  Doc Peterson was just finishing examining his wound when he knocked on the door and poked his head inside.

  “How’s the patient doc? Can I come in?”

  The doctor looked at Shawn and winked at him. “He’s doing just fine. He should be out chasing young ladies in no time. I’m through now, so you can have a minute with him if my patient feels up to it.”

  Shawn nodded his head and gave the doctor a smile.

  After the doctor left the room, the detective approached Shawn with a package.

  “You know, Shawn, taking things into your own hands was not the smartest move. There’s a saying by an old Chinese Philosopher who said “Before you embark on a journey of revenge, you better dig two graves.”

  “Thank you for those belated words of wisdom detective. But you have to understand that it was just something I had to do.”

  The detective nodded and said, “I do understand your motives, son; however, you went about it the wrong way.”

  Shawn was about to reply but thought it was best to keep his mouth shut.

  “Your stepfather isn’t going to make it. It’s just a matter of time. I don’t know how the DA got wind of this case so fast, but the fact is, he did. If he dies, I got word through the grapevine that he’s going to press charges against you for manslaughter.”

  “I didn’t kill him. He ran the red light and was struck by that truck.”

  “All I can tell is that the DA will try to prove intent.”

  “What intent. I was going to beat the crap out of him, I’ll admit that, but I didn’t intend to kill him.”

  “You shot at him as he fled the garage and struck him in the shoulder. He will try and prove that you intentionally tried to kill him and the accident with the truck was just a byproduct of his escape from you. You should have never picked up that gun.”

  “I admit that was a mistake, but I didn’t want the bastard to get away again. Because the simple fact still remains: he killed my mother.”

  “He was never tried for that crime, and if he recovers, he will be turned over to the proper authorities for prosecution. Son, I’m not an attorney, but I’m sure if this goes before a jury, you will be cleared of all charges. But I will tell you one thing. This DA is a major prick when it comes to anyone who wears a military uniform. He was on the campus of Kent State in the spring of 1970 when the Ohio National Guardsmen opened fire on students who were protesting the American invasion of Cambodia. Nine people were gunned down that day. One of his friends who was standing next to him at the time was killed, and he was hit. He recovered from those injuries, but four others weren’t so fortunate.”

  “Are there any charges against me now?” Shawn said as he pointed at the shackle on his leg.

  The detective smiled, took out his key, and unlocked the restraint.

  “This is my last case. I’m retiring next week. After thirty years of this shit, I’ve seen enough. The DA wants me to hold you, but I don’t give a shit what that little prick wants. I’m going to close this case and drop all the misdemeanor charges against you, regardless of what the DA says. Now I have to warn you, when your stepfather dies, the DA will issue a warrant for your arrest.”

  “Am I free to leave the state?”

  “When you leave here, I cannot control where you go. You can go anywhere in the world for all I care. You can pick up your VW from the impound lot if you want. You’ll have to register it, pay for the towing, and get new plates.

  And I’m afraid you won’t get your 38 Saturday night special back. I got you some new clothes. After all, we can’t have our fine citizens walking around with bullet holes and blood stains on their clothes, now can we.”

  “No big deal about the gun.” Shawn held out his hand, “I want to thank you for all you’ve done for me, sir.”

  The detective put his hand on his shoulder and said, “You can thank Colonel Bennett.”

  “Colonel Bennett?” Shawn seemed shocked by this.

  “I had some friends of mine take a look at your record. They are very well connected in the military. When I saw your record, I was pretty impressed. I don’t know how the Colonel found out about your situation, but he called me last night at my home, and we had a very long conversation about you. He never did tell me how he got my home number but I suspect that the Colonel is also well connected. He wants you to call him. I think he has a proposal he wants to run by you. He left this number for you to call.”

  “I’ve already been down that road with him, but I will call him just to thank him for his…input.”

  The detective handed him the number and said, “Get some rest, young man. I also hope you’ve put your demons to rest.”

  “I have, but it still doesn’t ease the pain that he caused me.”

  The detective nodded in understanding and headed for the door.

  Just as he was about to close the door behind him, Shawn said, “By the way, did you serve in the military?”

  The detective slowly turned around to face Shawn. He smiled and said, “I saw a little action in the Pacific.” He then turned away and pulled the door shut behind him.