Equalizer

The next case, however, had me up in Ventura for a bit as the asshole in that case had a mistress up there, and that took me away from Tabby for a couple days.

I had just called and talked to Tabby, telling her that I had all the intel on the asshole, and was about to head back down to L.A. She said that she would tell Maggie. Twenty minutes after we said our I love yous and hung up, Maggie was calling me back. I was driving, so I hit the Bluetooth earpiece and smiled.

"I take it that Tabby told you?" I chuckled. "We got the bastard dead to rights!"

"David, you need to get down here as fast as you can!" she said, sniffling. She had obviously been crying, and that set the hairs on the back of my neck on end. I'd just cleared Santa Barbara and was heading towards I-5. I sobered quickly as her words sank in.

"What happened? Is Tabby ok?" I asked as calmly as possible, even though I had a sinking feeling in my gut.

"I hope she will be. She and Shelly were attacked in the parking lot as they left, and when I heard what was happening, I called 911. They're both in the hospital, and in pretty bad shape. I'm there too, so come straight here when you get back. Ok?" She was barely holding together.

"Did you see who did it?" I asked, but I already had a pretty good idea of who had done it.

"I think so, but I'm not sure. He had a hoody on, but he was a really big guy. He attacked them with a baseball bat!" she exclaimed angrily. Her tears had been replaced by anger. I'd seen her angry before, and I thanked God she wasn't mad at me.

"Gordon," I said coldly. It wasn't a question. He was a big guy, and he had the most motive. I cursed myself for not taking more precautions. It was always in the back of my mind that he might try something like this against Tabby or William, or maybe even against me. But then, he already knew that I could take him, so he did the cowardly thing and went after the ones who he knew he could beat. His frozen accounts assured that he wouldn't have the funds to hire any muscle.

"That wouldn't surprise me. That son of a bitch has gone way too far, this time!" she almost shouted.

"I agree. I'm on the way, Maggie. Which hospital are you all at?"

"Mercy, and I'm in the ICU waiting room. They got hurt badly, Deck."

"Ok, then I'll be there in about a half hour," I said. "After I check in, I'll go to the Firm and look at the security footage."

Yes, that was one precaution that might just pay off. I'd talked Tabby into getting several security cameras set up in the parking lot of their little Law Firm. I was just hoping that it would help.

"Good idea. Just please hurry. They just took Shelly into surgery."

"I'll be there ASAP," I said. "See you when I get there."

With those words, I Ended the call and put the pedal to the floor. 135 horses roared into action as my speedometer hit 100 mph and kept on going.

Sure enough, I was there in a little under half an hour. I had gotten extremely lucky, in that the California Highway Patrol hadn't been looking to fill their monthly quotas. Hell, I hadn't seen a Chipper during the whole drive.

When I got there, Maggie met me in the ICU waiting room and gave me a sitrep as she hugged me. "Deck, Tabby is in room 207, but Shelly is still in surgery. She took some serious head trauma."

"Dammit," I said with a grimace. Head injuries are bad in any estimation. A baseball bat to the head could kill someone. "Will she be ok?"

"I hope so, hon," she replied with a grimace of her own.

"How about Tabby. Is she ok?" I asked hopefully.

"She got banged up pretty good. Her ribs are bruised, but the asshole only got one shot in on her before Shelly started hitting him."

"Thank God for Shelly," I said quietly. "Now, I need to go see Tabby. 207, right?"

"Yeah. She was asleep, last time I was up there."

"Thanks, Maggie. I just have to see if she's ok. Then I'm going to check the security footage at the Firm. I need to see it for myself."

"I understand, Deck."

With that, I went up to the second floor and quickly found 207. Her door was open, and she was awake and staring out the window.

"Hey, Beautiful. I got here as fast as I could," I said as she turned to look at me. She smiled and a few tears ran down her face as she looked at me. I crossed the room and sat on the edge of her bed as I leaned down to hold her. Her arms came up and around my neck, and we held each other tightly.

"Thank God you're here, baby," she sobbed into my shoulder.

"I wish I could have been there when it happened, honey," I said, my heart filled with love for her and regret that I had been so far away. I could have stopped it if I'd been there, dammit!

"Don't worry about that, Deck," she said into my chest. I held her close, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head. She was clinging to me for dear life.

"Sweetheart, what happened? I already talked to Maggie, but she didn't see the whole thing."

Tabby took a minute to calm herself, but never released her hold on me as we held each other close. She took a deep, shuddering breath, then started her account.

"Well, Shelly and I were leaving work, and we were going to go to a bar to have a couple drinks. We were going to call you and Maggie when we decided which bar we were going to, but it never got that far. I was unlocking the door to my car when Shelly yelled, and I felt something hit me in the ribs. It hurt like hell, baby!" she started sobbing again, and all I could do was hold her close and stroke her hair and back while she cried.

When she had recovered a bit, she continued. "So after he hit me a couple times, Shelly was there beating the livin' shit out of the asshole! She hit him with her purse, and you KNOW how heavy that thing is," she chuckled a bit, but winced from the pain in her sides.

"Yeah, I know," I smiled sadly, then kissed her on the forehead. "Go on, sweetheart."

"So he stopped hitting me and turned that bat on her. I was getting up and screaming when Maggie ran out with her phone and called 911. When the asshole saw her, he ran and jumped on a motorcycle. Then he peeled out of there like a bat out of Hell."

"Did you get a look at his face?" I asked in a low tone.

I could feel her shaking her head against my chest. "No, baby. But I think I know who it was. He didn't say a word, but grunted a few times when Shelly hit him. God, he beat her so badly!"

She burst into tears again, and I held her close. It was the only thing I could do at that moment in time.

When she'd finally calmed down, I pulled back a bit and looked into her lovely dark brown eyes. "Sweetheart, I need to go check the security footage from the Firm. I'll be back as soon as I know anything, ok?"

She sniffled. "Ok, baby. I love you, and please be careful. Remember, if it's him, please don't kill him."

I remembered my promise to her. "I promise not to kill him," I promised again with a wry smile. No, I wouldn't kill him. I'd just make him wish he'd never been born. "You just rest and get better. I love you, Tabby."

"Love you too, Deck," she replied with a beautiful smile.

* * * * *

When I checked the DVD-RW at the Firm, I wasn't able to make out the attacker's face under the hoody, either. If anyone had seen his face, it would have to be Shelly, and last I heard, she was still in surgery.

However, when he jumped on the crotch rocket to make his getaway, a Suzuki Samurai, no less, I was able to pause it and get the license plate number. I did a quick check online, and found it registered to a Greg Jones, complete with address.

An alias? That seemed to be the safe bet. Just to make sure, though, I called Maggie.

"Hey, Deck. Tabby told me about you checking the DVR at the Firm. Did you get anything?" she asked as she answered her phone.

"As a matter of fact, yes. I think, anyway. Did you, Shelly, or Tabby ever work a case involving a man named Greg Jones?"

"Not that I know of. I'll ask Tabby in a few. I'm outside smoking right now. Yes, I know it's a nasty habit, but I'm fuckin' scared and stressed out right now!"

"Not judging you, Maggie," I said. "Tell you what. You talk to Tabby, and I'll call you back in an hour or two, ok?"

"Ok, what are you going to do?" she asked with some trepidation in her voice.

"I'm going to declare war."

With those words, I Ended the call and turned my phone off. At that point, I didn't even care if it was Gordy the Gimp or not. The motherfucker had just earned himself a trip to the hurt locker.

I decided to leave my Camaro at home for this one. I grabbed my '71 Harley Sportster instead, and headed over to the asshole's place of residence.

When I got to the condo, I saw the electric blue Suzuki Samurai parked in the spot in front of his place, so I figured he had to be home. I closed my eyes for a moment, said a silent prayer, and walked up to the door. I rang the doorbell, and made sure that my helmet visor was down so he couldn't make out my features.

"Who is it?" he asked from inside the house. Son of a fuckin' bitch! It WAS Asshole #1!

I raised my voice an octave when I answered. "I was wondering how much you'd be willing to sell that Samurai for, man."

"It's not for sale!" he semi-shouted from inside. He hadn't opened the door yet, and wasn't likely to.

"I'll give you ten grand for it," I said, still raising the timbre of my voice to mask it. "I always liked them, and they discontinued that model."

It was silent for a moment. Then I heard "Ok, let's talk."

Greed will win out, folks. The dumptruck opened the fuckin' door for me.

Ok, that's a bit of a misnomer. I heard him throw the deadbolt back and start to open it when I bum rushed him backward into his apartment.

I unloaded on him. When he fell backwards onto his ass, I kicked the door shut behind me. I didn't say another word as I just stood there, my face concealed by the helmet's visor.

"Hey, man! It wasn't me! Whatever you think happened, it wasn't me, ok?!" he lied through his teeth when I finally let up on him. He was still wearing the red hoody that Maggie had described. The hood was now back, though. I could see the bruise spreading across his cheek, probably from when Shelly had hit him with her purse.

My only answer was physical, as I kicked him hard in the balls, then proceeded to deconstruct him one bone at a time. Steel toed boots work wonders on shins and kneecaps.

I made damn sure that he never lost consciousness while I was beating the living shit out of him. He tried to fight back at first, but that just made me hit him harder.

When I was done, and he was a broken wreck, I just stood there watching him drifting in and out of consciousness. I still hadn't said a word since I'd barged into his house.

I picked him up and pulled his face close to the dark tinted visor. Not that he could see me through his swollen shut eyes. Then, when I was convinced that he'd lost consciousness, I dropped him like a bad habit.

Gordy the Punk-ass bitch didn't look anything like when I'd first arrived. I took one last long look at him as he lay on the floor, a shadow of his former self. Then I turned without a word and left.

See, people like Gordon Smith only understand one thing: Violence. I figured some good old fashioned wall-to-wall counseling had been in order, to show him what it was like to be beaten half to death while defenseless. It was an object lesson for him, more than anything else.

Ah, fuck it. Who am I fuckin' kidding here? Dammit, that had felt fuckin' GOOD!

* * * * *

I stopped at a corner store and bought a throwaway cellphone, then used the free minutes it came with to call 911 and report that Gordon Smith was alive and not-so-well. After giving the nice 911 operator lady his address, I Ended the call, stomped on the phone, then removed the SD card. I threw the phone into the dumpster behind the Quickie Mart, and that was that.

Then I headed back and parked my Sportster someplace where I could watch the festivities as the cops and EMTs arrived.

When I turned my BlackBerry back on, I had 20 text messages from Maggie, and just as many from Tabby.

"I think I'm in trouble now," I said to myself with a wry smile as I called Tabby first.

"Baby! Are you ok?!" she asked in a worried tone.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," I answered evenly as I watched the cops arrive at Gordon's place. "I found out where Gordon was living under an alias, and called the cops on him. They just got here and are going inside right now."

"Uh huh. Now, what aren't you telling me?" she asked, seeing right through me.

"Umm, well, I might have subdued Gordon for the cops before they arrived," I said in a light, innocent tone of voice. "I kept my promise, though. He'll live."

"Oh my God, baby!" she exclaimed. "Please tell me he can't identify you!"

"Nope. I was wearing my helmet with the dark tinted visor down, while giving him the wall-to-wall counseling session."

She laughed briefly, then gasped. "Don't make me laugh, baby."

"Sorry, sweetheart," I grimaced. "Look, I'll be there shortly. I need to get changed out of these clothes first, though."

"I understand, boo. Hurry up and get here, ok?"

"I will. I love you."

"Love you too, honey."

With that, we Ended the call and I rode to my apartment to get changed. Ol' Gordy's blood was still on my boots and jeans.

Once the clothes were burned, and I'd changed into clean clothes, I got in my Camaro and headed back to the hospital.

* * * * *

When I got back to the hospital, I sat with Tabby and Maggie in Tabby's room while we waited on news of Shelly. The mood was somber and filled with tension. Tabby held my hand like her life depended on it with our fingers interlaced, and Maggie sat beside me, saying quiet prayers for Shelly.

Finally, 4 hours after the surgery had started, the doctor came into the room to let us know the situation. Since Shelly had no family after her parents and older brother had died, Maggie and Tabby were listed at her "next of kin". That doesn't mean that they only get notified in case of her death or serious injury. That also means that legally, they are as close to family as possible without blood relation or adoption.

"Maggie? Tabitha?" he asked. At their nods, he continued. "Shelly is out of surgery and recovering in the Critical Care Ward. She still has a severe concussion and had swelling in her brain from the assault. Also, her skull was fractured. However, we managed to get the swelling down and stabilized. She's now in a medically induced coma to help in the healing process. How quickly she gets better is up to her, but we'll have to keep her admitted for the duration."

He paused for a moment, looking down, then back up at us after gathering his thoughts. "It's still touch and go right now, but we will be monitoring her closely for any changes in her condition. I'm sorry I don't have better news for you, but so far, she's alive and hopefully recovering."

"Thank you, Doctor," Maggie said, even as tears threatened to fall. He nodded, gave us a reassuring smile, and left the room.

Once he was gone, Maggie looked at me with fire in her eyes. "I hope you fucked him up beyond all repair, Deck."

"He won't be hurting anyone else for a very long time, if ever," I nodded.

"Good. But I swear to God, if she dies, I'll finish the job on him, myself," she said grimly.

"I'll be right there with you, Sister," Tabby confirmed. With the way they were talking, I don't think they would have objected all that much if I'd broken my promise, as I had been tempted to.

"And all this after you made me promise not to kill him," I said wryly to Tabby.

"Uh huh. Well, she's our Sister, and we reserve the right to change our minds," Tabby said with a sage nod, lightening the mood a bit as Maggie and I chuckled at her statement.

"Oh, and if the cops come after you, Deck, you were with us all day. We talked about it while you were gone, earlier. They know that you have beef with Gordon, from what happened before at William's place. We'll alibi you if you need it," Maggie smiled.

"Thanks, Maggie," I said. "And thanks, baby girl," I said as I leaned in and kissed Tabby.

"Anytime, honey," Tabby said as she returned my kiss.

We talked for a while, keeping the conversation as light as possible. Tabby was still on meds for the pain in her ribs. Mostly bruised, but with a couple of hairline fractures here and there. It would be a while before she would be up and moving again without pain.

Visiting Hours were up shortly after that, and Maggie and I had to leave. The doctor came in and pronounced that Tabby could go home tomorrow, so I confirmed that I'd pick her up in the morning.

When I got to our place that night, I was met by the cops, who had been waiting on me. More specifically, two of the LAPD's "finest" defective detectives.

"Mr. Shepard?" the first one asked. He looked to be about a hundred pounds overweight with a gut that entered the room about 5 seconds before the rest of him. His partner wasn't much better.

"That's me. What can I do for you, officer?" I asked with barely masked disgust. I pretty much knew why they were here, but then again, I could have been wrong.

"I'm Detective Rogers, and this is Detective Hightower. We'd like to ask you a few questions downtown."

"I don't think so," I replied evenly. "Either ask them here, or not at all."

They looked at each other, then the spokesman, Rogers, said "Ok. May we come in?"

"No, right here is fine. You still haven't told me what this is about."

"Well, an anonymous tip earlier today let us know where to find Gordon Smith."

"That's good news. He tried to have my former employer killed," I said with a nod and a smile.

"Well, when he was found, he'd been beaten pretty badly. Would you know anything about that?"

"Can't say that I do, but if you find out who did it, let me know so I can buy him or her a beer," I shrugged.

"Mr. Shepard, would you please accompany us to the station so we can talk more candidly?" asked Rogers.

"Am I under arrest?" I asked back with a raised eyebrow.

"Can you account for your whereabouts from 6 pm until 7 pm this evening?" he asked back at me. Dumbass probably had to aim blind while pissing.

"Look, I was with my girlfriend and her business partner at the hospital. My lady and another business partner of hers were attacked in the parking lot of their Law Firm, so that's where I was from the time I got back to town from Ventura at about 6 pm." I gave him my statement in an even tone of voice. "Talk to Maggie Keller or Tabitha Williams. They can vouch for my whereabouts."

"We'll do that, Mr. Shepard," Rotund One said. Then he gave me the ever popular "Don't leave town" shtick.

"Wouldn't dream of it, officer," I replied with a smile.

* * * * *

Maggie and Tabby were as good as their word. The alibied me for the hour I was gone from the hospital to take care of the business with Asshole.

After that, the cops pretty much gave up, since Gordon was already a Known Asshole. Quite a few of them, from what I heard through Tabby and her grapevine of contacts in the LAPD, didn't give much of a rat's ass about who had fucked Gordy boy up. The more important thing was that he was now in custody. That was ok with us.

The morning after the attack, I went and picked up Tabby from the hospital. She was moving kind of slow from the damage to her ribs, but otherwise was in a good mood.

It was two more weeks before Shelly woke up from her coma. She, thankfully, didn't remember much, but she did remember the face under the hoody, and that was enough to get Gordon Smith charged with Attempted Murder and Assault With a Deadly Weapon, 2 counts each. Those, added to his earlier charge of Conspiracy to Commit Murder by hiring the street thugs, pretty much guaranteed that Gordon wouldn't be seeing the light of day for a very long time.