Adermoor Cove: Dissolved Girl - 7. Chapter 7

While Lane and the others had been battling with the dark force possessing Ramona, the rest of the town had been enjoying the festival without any idea of what was going on.

They were fucked, Carlos knew. There was no denying it. Though it wasn't really her fault, Ramona had made a mess of things. For one, Ted Magyer was lying dead on Lane Hardy's carpet back at the lighthouse, and secondly there was a huge mess at the police station. He had no choice but to call the mayor and an ambulance to take Ramona to the hospital.

Richardson showed up at the police station just as the paramedics were loading Ramona into the ambulance on a stretcher, followed by Moira who was going with her. The lights from the siren on top of the ambulance splashed across Richardson's face, which was set in a comical mask of disbelief. He looked to Carlos for explanation.

"I thought she was dead." Richardson said.

"She's not," said Carlos. "There's something else you need to see, sir." He led the mayor across the parking lot, into the building.

Nichols and Melvin stood off to the side, as far away from the cells as they could get. Their heads and voices were lowered in conversation. They both stopped and turned as they realized the mayor had arrived.

Richardson's face paled when he saw the mess in the one cell. There were black puddles all over the floor. He said, "It's happening again. I hoped it wouldn't, not while I was in office."

"You know about all this?"

Richardson nodded. His face was set in a rare expression of dismay. He pressed a handkerchief to his face and turned away from the scene. Carlos could tell from the hunched set of his shoulders, the mayor was trying not to vomit.

"I need you to tell me everything that happened," Richardson said. "Who all witnessed it, everything. Who's that in the next cell?"

"Lane Hardy."

"Is he dead?"

"Asleep."

"Does he have anything to do with this mess?"

"If it wasn't for him, sir, we probably wouldn't be having this conversation. He saved us and Ramona. Cured her."

Richardson nodded. "Let's talk in your office."

Carlos followed the mayor into his office. He had the same feeling he used to feel when he was in the principal' s office. Was the mayor going to fire Carlos, or worse - how had his father put it to Lane? - make him disappear?

The mayor took Carlos's chair. He sniffed. "Now tell me, what happened here?"

"It's better if I just show you." Carlos pulled Moira's cell phone out of his pocket. It took him a minute to find the video file, but when he did he handed it to Richardson. He barely remembered Moira giving it to him.

Richardson's face was unreadable at first. The expression changed as the footage played, the eyes growing wider, the eyebrows drawing together to form a crease. The sounds coming from the phone sounded like something a person would only hear in their worst dreams.

When the video had played through, Richardson set the phone down and studied Carlos for a moment. Carlos tried to guess what the mayor was thinking, but once again his expression was unreadable.

"Was anyone infected?" he asked finally.

"Ted Magyer. He's dead."

"Anyone else?"

"No."

"Good." Richardson let out a sigh of relief. "Very good. Relax, Carlos. You're not in trouble. I knew this was going to happen sooner or later. It's happened before. You know what they say about history repeating itself. How much did your father tell you?"

"Not much. I think he was going to tell me as much as he could...but he never got the chance."

Richardson nodded sadly. "I've been an idiot, Carlos. I've looked the other way at the things I should be paying attention to because I was scared. And now we have an epidemic on our hands. And it hasn't been the first one, nor has Ramona been the first victim."

Carlos hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the door, and said, "That man tried to tell you and my father and both of you did nothing but threaten him."

"I owe him an apology," Richardson said, nodding.

"No offense, but you owe him a hell of a lot more than that."

"I know," said Richardson. "I think it's time we begin to do things differently around here. You, Carlos are a man of ideas and action, while I admittedly am not. What do you think we should do? How can we prevent this situation from escalating any further?"

"I'm not the person you should be asking."

Richardson raised an eyebrow incredulously. "You're saying I should defer to Lane Hardy?"

"He has more experience on the issue than I do. He's encountered more people who have been infected with the plague than I have. And you saw on the video what he did with Ramona." And though he had seen it himself with his own two eyes, Carlos was having a hard time believing it himself. What Lane had done was nothing short of a miracle; he'd seemingly purged Ramona of the dark force infecting her.

Cured her. Saved her.

"Then we can discuss things more tomorrow," said Richardson. "If Lane has ideas about how we can keep more people safe then I want to hear them. But for now I think it's best if you and he get some sleep. I'm sure you could both use it after everything that's happened last night."

"What about Ted?"

"I'll call the coroner. Nichols can take care of the rest."

Carlos asked no more questions. He was past the point of exhaustion. Yes, Ramkna was back but that didn't mean the nightmare was over. He wished Richardson good night and went to wake Lane up. He went into the cell and gently shook him awake.

"How are you feeling?" Carlos asked him.

"Like shit." Lane was paler than usual and his eyes were slightly sunken. Despite the fact he looked sickly, he was scanning Carlos's face. "Are you okay?"

"When we get into bed and I wrap my arms around you and hold you to me, I will be."

When Carlos woke up several minutes past noon, Lane was already up and in the kitchen, making brunch. Eggs, bacon, buttered toast, and coffee. His color had returned and he didn't appear to be in any pain.

They had stayed the night at the house on Magerly Road, which Carlos now owned.

Carlos was amazed at how hungry he was. He scarfed down the food without really tasting it. Lane refilled his coffee cup for him despite Carlos's protesting he could get it himself.

They left to visit Ramona at the hospital. Carlos found himself dreading the visit. What would she be like now when he saw her? Did she remember anything while she'd been gone? Was her mind intact or was she unstable?

Moira was there as she'd said she would be on the phone, had spent the night here at the hospital. She wore a grey cotton sweater and tan slacks. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail. The horn rimmed glasses she wore did not hide the dark bags beneath her eyes. Though she looked ragged with exhaustion, she smiled at Carlos when she saw him, and hugged him. Carlos hadn't realized how much he had missed her smile, her exuberance. She had always been more optimistic than Ramona.

Upon releasing Carlos, Moira turned the full beam of her smile on Lane. "I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you for giving Ramona back to me," she said, then kissed his cheek.

Blushing and smiling, Lane glanced at the white curtains and plastic that blocked Ramona from view. "How is she?"

Moira removed her glasses long enough to scratch at her reddened eyes, before sliding them back into place. "The doctors have her in quarantine, which is why they have the partition around her."

Carlos could see the form of Ramona's shape behind the curtain, a smudge of black against white. If he turned his head slightly to the right he could see a wedge of her face through the crack in the drapes. Without the dirt covering his face, it was more apparent than ever just how much weight she'd lost. Carlos shuddered thinking how much it could have been if Ramona hadn't been saved sooner.

"For now they're keeping her sedated," Moira said. "They want to keep her calm, let her rest. They keep asking me questions but I don't know what I should tell them and what I shouldn't, so I tell them nothing. Anyway, she keeps coughing up those worms, if that's what you want to call them. The doctor comes in a suit and puts them in these vials to test them."

Lane swore under his breath. "They know not to touch them, right?"

Moira gave him a tired little shrug. "There's no telling what anyone in this town knows. All I know is Ramona is back, and that's all that matters to me."

"So just like that?" Lane said. He was sitting on the edge of Richardson's desk. "After threatening me and covering everything up you just want me to say let bygones be bygones and help you?" He scoffed. "Fuck that and fuck you."

Carlos sat in the chair next to him. He could only watch in amusement as Lane gave Richardson the tongue lashing he deserved.

The mayor sat in his high backed chair with his perfect blond hair and perfect suit. He nodded, looking guilty. Whether he genuinely felt this way, Carlos couldn't tell even though he'd been a homicide detective. "You're right, I shouldn't be asking you this after the way the people in this town, myself included, have treated you. But all past conflicts aside, this is where you were born, is it not?"

"What does my a Stanton have to do with anything?" Lane demanded.

"Well it's what your Aunt Vanessa would have wanted and there could be other people's lives at stake."

"Blah blah blah, bullshit bullshit bullshit." Lane began pacing around the room. He practically vibrated with irritation. After doing a few laps around the room, he turned to face the mayor once more. "So you want me to consult?"

Richardson nodded. "Work with Carlos and show the police department what you know, so they'll have a better idea of what to do should the plague make another appearance. Which it will. And in return I'll offer you sanctuary?"

Lane's eyebrows knitted together. "Sanctuary? What are you talking about?"

"I do my homework, Lane. I know about your involvement with what happened to that bar outside of Denver."

Lane stepped dead in his tracks. His eyes darkened. He looked at Carlos. Carlos knew what had happened in Denver and in Michigan but it was something he knew Lane would only talk about once. It was a sore subject.

"Go on," he said cautiously.

"It will only be a matter of time before someone comes along looking for justice," said the mayor. "I can protect you."

"How?" Lane asked.

Richardson's face was unreadable as he said, "Here in Adermoor Cove we have our own way of doing things. Just know this is your town now and I will do whatever I can to help you."

"If I help you?" said Lane.

Richardson nodded. "If you help me."

The younger man sighed. "What choice do I have? Alright, you have a deal." Then he reached across the table and shook hands with the mayor.