Angel Academy

Chapter Twenty-three

Niamh's POV

I sat in the middle of the two beds, my mother's and the little angel's. No one had come to visit either of them, so I visited both. They both mostly slept, so I just sat and talked, a lot. They were wonderful listeners. Once or twice Natasha would check on me, but otherwise I was left alone with them. My mother had needed to be knocked out with drugs. I was told she was a danger to herself if she were to stay awake, so they put her into a medication induced coma, even though they had been adamant about getting her out of a coma at first.

"Niamh?" I looked up, surprised to hear my name in the constantly quiet room. Jeremy stood at the doorway with flowers and a teddy bear. "I brought these for your mother." He slowly entered the room, setting the roses on her night stand beside her bed. They were big and red and full of life, a stark contrast to my mother's pale and bruised skin. The flower's beautiful colors almost made my mother look worse than she did before; almost.

Jeremy went to set the teddy bear under my mother's arm, but I took it from him, shaking my head. He raised a questioning eyebrow, and watched as I tucked it underneath Dean's arm. This small angel deserved something from this world, and I hoped that if he awoke, he'd have something to make him smile and feel like someone loved him. I layed my hand in his softs curls, gently running my fingers along his scalp. In a few hours he would have no more curls, and that really broke my heart.

I turned back to Jeremy. "Do you know that boy?"

I shook my head, tears brimming in my eyes. "I wish I did. I probably will never get to. He's only four years old, and he was abandoned here with a cracked skull and lukemia. Poor guy probably isn't even going to make it." Jeremy raised his eyebrows at me. I sighed, shaking my head. "I've been in this hospital for one day, and already I'm depressing." 

Jeremy gave me a small smile and kissed the top of my head, wrapping his arms around me. "Well then maybe we should get out of here. The police are in the waiting room and they want to take you back to the house so you can tell them if anything is missing." 

I nodded. "Of course." As we walked out, I glanced back at my mother to see her eyes slightly open, fear filling them. I frowned and as we walked passed Natasha, I told her my mother was awake and asked if she could check up on her. She nodded, giving me a small smile as the police escorted me from the hospital. Once again I climbed into the back of the cruiser, only this time Jeremy slid in beside me, his arm wrapped around my shoulders and a hand on my thigh. It creeped me out slightly, but I couldn't figure out why.

When we pulled into my driveway, the same two policemen who had brought me to the hospital the other night stood there waiting for us. The older one greeted me with a sad smile that didn't touch his eyes. He layed a hand on my shoulder, and Jeremy glared at me, but the police didn't seem to notice. "Listen kid, it's pretty crazy in there. If you don't want to go in, you don't have to."

I smiled up at him. He almost reminded me of Jeff with the fatherly way he looked at me and the concern etched into his forehead. The only difference was Jeff would tell me to quit being a baby and just walk in, even if it terrified me. "I have to, that way we can get this place cleaned up for when they let my mother out of the hospital." I squeezed his hand, and then removed it, walking into the house. 

It was exactly how I left it, except now there were yellow plastic triangles with numbers everywhere. I looked around, my heart sinking as I took in the mess. My mother's plants were tipped over and their guts were all over the floor; my mother was going to have a fit at the stains they would leave in the carpet. I walked over glass and broken frames, slowly making my way into the kitchen. "As far as I can tell, nothing in the living room is stolen, just broken." I looked over the fireplace, frowning. "Even my great grandmother's gold encrusted urn is still here." Her ashes were spread into the carpet, and I sighed. Poor GramGram. "It's real gold; I don't know why they wouldn't have taken it if they were burglars." 

"Why don't we continue into the kitchen," said the younger cop, his voice a bit gruff with annoyance at having to be around me. I could tell he didn't like me, and I felt bad for having hit him in the nuts.

The older one whose name was Kobe, I could finally see his name tag, glared at the younger cop. "Caleb, don't be an ass because you lost to a girl." Caleb glared at the floor, muttering an embarassed 'sorry.'

I ignored him and made my way into the kitchen. Plates were scattered along the tile floor and the cupboards had been riped from their hinges. The things on the table were now on the floor: my mother's vase of red roses (she loved red roses), two serenity candles, and a white piece of paper. Furrowing my brows, I knealt and picked it up. It was the last page Rosalie had sent me filled with names of people her and her mother had come in contact with. I looked under the table and kicked around a few broken dishes looking for the rest of the file.

"Is something missing, ma'am?" Caleb asked, standing a few paces behind me. Kobe and Jeremy had left us in the kitchen because Jeremy had to go to work. He had kissed the back of my neck a few minutes ago and then left before Caleb and I had walked into the kitchen.

I frowned and turned to Caleb. "Did you guys see a manila folder in here when you were marking this for evidence?"

Caleb also furrowed his brow, gently rubbing his chin as he thought. "No," he began, slowly shaking his head, "that's the only thing we've seen. Is it important?"

I nodded. "Yes, it is. I'm a criminal profiler, and the manila folder I mentioned was a case I was working on." I looked around the room some more, with Caleb helping, and we weren't able to find it. 

"Interesting," Caleb murmured when we came up short. I crossed my arms over my chest, the paper clutched firmly in my hand, trying to hold back tears. Caleb noticed the way my fists were shaking, the knuckles turning white from how tightly I was holding them closed. "Hey, you okay ma'am?"

I gave him a tight smile, a tear escaping from my eye to gently fall down my cheek. I was trying to hold back the tears of guilt, but it was extremely hard. A lump formed in my throat, making it impossible for me to answer the officer. I didn't know him, and I didn't want to break down in front of him. The way he looked at me, his green eyes wide and bright with nervousness, I could tell he didn't want me to either. 

Taking a deep breath, I opened my mouth to speak, but a sob came out. Caleb's eyes softened, and he stepped up to me, patting my shoulder as I cried. I looked up at him, tears covering my cheeks, and he did something that surprised me, he hugged me.

"Don't worry kid," he said, his voice surprisingly soft, "we'll find whoever did this."

I pulled back a little, looking up at him. "That's not why I'm crying. My mother was right. This," I gestured around us, "is all my fault. They did this because they wanted to send me a message. They don't want me to work on the Fischer Case."

Caleb smirked down at me. "You aren't going to stop are you?"

I looked up at him, like he was stupid. "Of course, They hurt my mother. They could have killed my son."

Caleb shook his head, scowling. "Don't let these assholes scare you." He crossed his arms.

"Well what am I suppose to do? I can't chance them hurting my son. Or my mother again."

Caleb rubbed his chin again, it seemed to be what helped him concentrate. Finally, he sighed. "Why don't I help you?"

I scoffed. "Help me?"

He shrugged. "Why not? I took a bit of psychology in college and I'm a cop. I could protect you while you worked on it. Not to mention, two heads are better than one."

I scowled at him. He had a point. With another person to bounce ideas off of, I might be able to get it done faster. Not only that, but he was a cop. He could protect my son, my mother, and even me while I worked on it, so no one got harmed. Well, so no one got harmed worse than they already were harmed, or worse. So no one was killed. I opened my eyes and looked back up at him. "Well, alright. Fine. But not until my mother gets better. And I have to ask my client."