Chapter Eighty-Six
11:30PM
Taggert walked back over to his car and opened the door. He sat down heavily in his seat and sighed. "I talked to the other working girls in the restaurant. They haven't seen this Cindy in several days. She must have changed her working habits. It's going to be hard to find her. I'll check tomorrow to see if she's been arrested. Until then, we'll have to call it a night."
Tony shook his head and ran a hand across his forehead. "This gives me a headache," he said wearily. "You must have lots of dead ends in your line of work."
"You got that," said Taggert. "I just pick up another thread of evidence and follow it. Persistence pays off, Tony. We'll keep at it and eventually find the kid."
~*~*~*~
Next day, 3:10PM…
Tamara closed the front door as she entered the living room. The house was silent except for the ticking of the clock in the kitchen. "Anybody here?" she called out. "Hello?" Tamara knew where Cindy was, but she hadn't seen her other roommate, Donna, in several days. Donna often took off for a week or two, spending time with a john who had a large wallet. She'd disappear and then stroll back into the house wearing a new dress and a large jewel on a finger, full of stories about Vegas or Reno.
Tamara sighed and walked up the steps. She wondered what happened to the kid. If he'd stuck around, he'd be pretty upset. She'd thought about what to tell him, but decided to wing it, no planned speeches. The light to the bathroom was on, but she didn't see anyone in the room. She turned off the light and walked over to the doorway of Cindy's bedroom. The door was open, and she paused to look in. There he was, lying in Cindy's bed, curled up tightly in a ball with his back to the door.
"Lucky," she said hesitantly. She walked slowly to the bed and poked him in the back. "Lucky, wake up," she repeated. "Lucky?" Tamara pulled on his shoulder and turned him toward her. His eyes were nearly closed, and she couldn't tell if he was breathing. She shook him harshly, and his eyes opened a tiny amount. Tamara looked over at the nightstand and saw a nearly empty bag of white powder. Great, she thought. He's stoned out of his mind, and I have to tell him about Cindy.
"Lucky, sit up. I need to talk to you for a minute." Tamara grabbed him under the arms and pulled him into a semi-sitting position. Lucky tried to turn his head toward her, but looked down at the floor instead and said, "What?" in a dazed voice. "Cindy?"
"No, it's Tamara. I need to talk to you about Cindy, so focus for a minute, okay?" Tamara grabbed Lucky by the chin and turned his face toward hers. "Now, Cindy and I were busted two days ago at the mall. That's why we haven't been here. I'm an adult, so I finally posted bail and got out of jail, but Cindy's a minor. She went to Juvy. Lucky, they're going to send her to another foster home. She's not coming back. I'm sorry. You've been staying here, and that's okay. You can stay for a couple of days until you find somewhere else to live."
Lucky sat still for a minute until the news finally hit the part of his brain that could comprehend. "She's gone?" he asked in a sad, pleading voice. "Wha…at? She's…she's my…oh, God." Lucky tried to get out of the bed, but couldn't move his legs properly and fell forward, almost flat on his face except for the restraining slap of his hands on the floor, which broke his fall. Lucky lay prone on the floor with his head turned to the side. His back heaved with his sobs, and the tears trickled from his closed eyes, tumbling down his nose and moistening the wood floor under his face.
Tamara looked back over to the nightstand and picked up the baggie. She knelt down by Lucky and held the baggie in front of his face as she slapped his cheek. "How much did you take?" she asked in a no-nonsense voice. "All of it," mumbled Lucky. "Have you eaten or drunk anything since we left the house?" questioned Tamara. Lucky turned his head slightly. "No," he said, with his face still on the floor. With some difficulty, Tamara dragged him back to the bed and rested his head against the bedframe. "You can't do this shit for days on end without eating or drinking. That's how people die!" she yelled. "I don't want no corpse in my house, understand?"
Tamara left the room and returned a few minutes later with a big glass full of water. Lucky was still leaned against the bed with his eyes closed, starting to sag down to the floor. Tamara knelt again and held the glass of water to his lips. "Drink this," she ordered. When Lucky didn't move, she slapped him hard on the side of the head to get his attention and pulled his head back, forcing water into his mouth. Lucky gagged and squirmed, barely choking down a trickle of the water, with most of it ending up on his shirt. After several tries, Tamara wasn't any more successful at getting him to drink. "Shit!" she said aloud with a worried look on her face. Dammit, he's going to croak on me. What am I going to do? Call an ambulance? Dammit, I can't do that. I'm out on bail, and he's all fucked up.
Tamara looked around the room, and her eyes spotted the row of prescription bottles lined up on the chest of drawers. She examined them and smiled when she saw the address for the free-clinic. "Cool," she said out loud. "Maybe they'll come and get you out of here before we both get into trouble." Tamara left the room and returned to the living room where she picked up the phone and dialed the number for the free-clinic, which was listed on the bottle. "Uh, yeah," she said when someone answered the phone. "I have a visitor in my house. He's not doing well, and I noticed he had a prescription at your clinic. Could I talk to someone about him?" Tamara paused. "Well, it reads Dr. Tony Jones on the bottle. Maybe that's his doctor? Okay, I'll wait."
"This is Dr. Tony Jones," the voice answered.
"Uh, Dr. Jones, I think I have a patient of yours at my house. His name is Lucky and, uh…someone really needs to come pick him up."
Tony's mouth opened in shock. This was the last thing he expected to happen, someone calling him and offering Lucky. "Yes, I'm his doctor as well as his uncle. I've been looking for him for several days."
Tamara interrupted. "Well, good," she said heartily. "Cause he won't eat or drink, and he looks like he's dead, so if someone could pick him up…"
"Is he taking drugs?" asked Tony.
"He took a whole lot of something," said Tamara evasively.
"Give it to me straight so I know what I'm dealing with," replied Tony.
"I think he's been doing heroin for two days straight," she spat out. "I just got home and found him all messed up. I tried, but I can't get him to drink anything. He looks bad."
Tony cleared his throat and tried to remain calm. "Here's what I want you to do," he said. "I'll stop by your house with a friend to pick him up. But make sure you flush any illegal drugs in the house down the toilet. My friend is a cop. He's cool, but I don't want him to have to deal with finding anything. We'll be there within an hour if you give us your address."
Tamara sighed. "It's 1250 Maple Street. I'll ditch the stuff. Thanks."
~*~*~*~
Tamara entered Cindy's room and grabbed the baggie. She marched to the bathroom and threw the whole thing in the toilet, flushing it down, baggie and all. She went back to Cindy's room and looked around closely to see if she could find anything else incriminating. Lucky had fallen over onto the floor and was lying there with his eyes slightly open. Tamara lightly kicked his leg. "Hey, hotstuff," she said gently, reaching down and moving the hair from his face. "You got any more drugs I don't know about?"
Lucky recoiled from her touch and curled up, whispering, "Five in a row."
Tamara rolled her eyes. "That's no help. Well, it looks clean. I'd better go check downstairs before they come."
After Tamara left the room, Lucky mumbled, "Not coming."
~*~*~*~
Lt. Taggert pulled up in front of the free-clinic in a marked police cruiser. Tony was waiting at the doorway and walked out promptly to meet him.
"I borrowed a cruiser," stated Taggert. "I figured if we need a siren, we can use it, and there's a plexiglass and metal divider between the front and back seats that might come in handy depending on how the kid reacts."
"Thanks, Marcus," replied Tony. "I'm sure I can use an extra pair of hands in dealing with him if he's on drugs. I called Kevin, and he's expecting us. We're supposed to pull around to the back entrance to the hospital where a couple of orderlies will be waiting for us. That prevents a possible upset if we take him through the main entrance. They want to bring him up to the seventh floor first and do a toxicology screen on him. They can't sedate him if they don't know what is in his system, and they're more equipped to deal with any aggression or acting out on the locked ward." Tony shook his head. "This is bad, Marcus. I really didn't want it to come to this, but we have to take him back for his own sake."
Taggert nodded his head. "I agree with you, Tony. It's hard, but better than coming down to the morgue to identify him. He's headed for a funeral if he keeps it up. Heroin doesn't take any prisoners."
~*~*~*~
"Nice neighborhood," Tony commented sarcastically as he looked around and surveyed the nearby houses in various stages of disrepair and untidiness. Taggert walked up onto the porch and rang the doorbell. "Yeah, we've made a lot of arrests in this area - drugs, prostitution, fencing, you name it."
Tamara answered the door in the same outfit she was wearing two days ago when she was arrested - low cut halter top, daisy dukes and high platform shoes. "You the guys coming for Lucky?" she questioned. She opened the door when Taggert and Tony nodded.
"He's upstairs in one of the bedrooms," she stated. "He hasn't moved since I called you. Let me show you."
Tamara took the stairs two at a time, followed closely by Taggert and Tony. "There he is," she said, pointing to Lucky curled up on the floor beside the bed.
"Hey, partner," said Taggert calmly as he entered the room. "It's Marcus Taggert - remember me?" Tony followed him into the room and knelt beside him. Lucky's eyes were half open, but he didn't respond other than blinking a couple of times. Tony felt the fear creeping up on him at the sight of his nephew in a near overdose. Lucky was totally pale with his hair in disarray, and his eyes were sunken in from lack of hydration and food. The dark purple circles rimming his eyes only accentuated his poor appearance.
"Let's get you dressed and out of here," said Tony in a quiet voice.
"His stuff is in this corner," stated Tamara as she retrieved Lucky's bags. "Here's his jeans and shoes."
"Sit him up, Marcus," Tony said. Marcus grabbed Lucky under the armpits and pulled him upright. Lucky's head lolled to the side and stayed there. Tony pulled one of Lucky's legs into his jeans and repeated the process with the other leg. Taggert grunted as he dragged Lucky up onto the bed and laid him back while Tony pulled the jeans up to his waist. "Is there anything else of his here in the house?" questioned Tony as he turned his head and picked up a shoe.
"Nah." Tamara shook her head. "Just that bag of stuff."
Tony reached into the bag and removed the smaller drugstore bag of chocolates and condoms. "Here," he said to Tamara. "You can have these." Tamara looked into the bag and snickered. "Whatever," she said, shaking her head.
"How are we going to get him downstairs and into the car?" asked Tony as he fastened the Velcro on Lucky's shoes.
"Let's hoist him up, wrap his arms around our shoulders and drag him," suggested Taggert. "Maybe he can help us out a bit." Taggert slapped Lucky's cheek lightly. "Lucky Spencer," he intoned. "Wake up. We're movin'outta here."
Tony pulled his arm to sit him up. "Lucky, it's Uncle Tony. We're going to take you down the stairs and to the car. Try to walk so you can help us old guys out, okay?"
Lucky frowned and kept jerking his head up as it would fall back. "Not…coming back," he informed them.
"What? What are you saying, Lucky?" questioned Tony.
"Cindy. No." Lucky started crying softly.
"Let's go, buddy," responded Taggert as he pulled the boy to his feet and wrapped his left arm around his shoulder. Tony leaned over and grabbed Lucky's bag of clothes, depositing his pills inside, and then reached for Lucky's right arm.
The two men dragged Lucky through the hall, but experienced some difficulty as Lucky kept stumbling on the steps. Finally, they made their way to the living room. "Thank you," said Tony appreciatively to Tamara, who followed them to the door. She shrugged. "No problem. He's a good kid. Hope he does okay."
Taggert and Tony laid Lucky along the length of the back seat on his side and closed the doors. The two men entered the front seats and fastened their seatbelts. "You're the doc," stated Taggert. "Sirens or no sirens?" Tony glanced back over his shoulder at Lucky. "I don't think an extra ten minutes is going to mean much," he said. "No sirens I guess."
Lucky stirred in the back seat, finally aware that he was in a moving car. He vaguely recalled hearing the voices of Taggert and Tony but wondered what was going on. He blinked his eyes repeatedly, trying to clear his mind and figure out his situation. A stab of fear hit his heart. They're gonna think I'm fucked up, he realized. Lucky patted his jeans pocket and found the one remaining pill left over from his drug purchase several days before. He popped the pill into his mouth, swallowed hard and waited. I'll tell them I was really tired or something, he thought stupidly through the haze in his mind.
Taggert hit a couple of red lights and sighed heavily. "Damn lights," he complained with a pinched face. "I always hit the long ones." Tony nodded in agreement. "You and me both. It's annoying. Port Charles must have the worst timed lights in the state of New York." Tony looked back at Lucky again. "He's still in the same position," he reported. "Hasn't moved since we left."
Lucky started to grow agitated as the drug quickly worked into his system. He still felt the dragging heaviness of the heroin in his blood, but now he felt twitchy and nervous on top of that. His heart began racing as he slowly sat up in the back and leaned his head against the window. As his eyes focused, he became aware that he was in a police cruiser being driven by Lt. Taggert. Shards of panic attacked his gut, and he screamed, "What am I doing in here?"
Taggert and Tony jumped in the front seat at the sound of his loud voice. "Hello, Mr. Spencer," said Taggert. "You're among the living now. Relax, it's cool."
Lucky's eyes bugged as he turned his head rapidly and wildly surveyed his surroundings. I can't go to jail, I can't go to jail, his mind frantically needled at him as his heart pounded in his heaving chest. He pulled hard on both of the door handles, but found that they were automatically locked. He repeatedly pulled on the doors, as he shouted, "NO" at the top of his lungs.
"Lucky, calm down," stated Tony. "We'll only be in the car for a few more minutes. Everything is going to be alright." He turned to Taggert and whispered, "What's going on? He shouldn't be like this with all that heroin in his system. You saw how he was." Taggert shrugged and concentrated on the road.
Lucky became enraged and growled obscenities as he leaned back in the seat and used both of his feet to pound on the divider and the right car window. He puffed and panted with his exertion and kept up the pounding.
"Okay," said Taggert evenly as he flipped the switch and turned on the siren. "Here we go. Hold on, Dr. Jones." Taggert floored the gas pedal and peeled down the road, flipping back and forth between the lanes. Tony turned green as the cars and landscape whipped by him in a frenzied motion.
"I'm going to pull around back, and you get out of the car to inform the hospital employees that our passenger will require some mechanical restraint," suggested Taggert as he turned the corner with squealing tires and headed directly for General Hospital only two blocks away.
As Taggert pulled into the back entrance of General Hospital, the back window cracked lightly with Lucky's frenzied pounding. "And not a minute too soon," Taggert smiled. "Get goin' doc! Run!" Taggert chuckled as he watched Tony leap out of the car and run as fast as he could to the back entrance door. Taggert sighed and looked back at Lucky in the rear view mirror. "Spencer Junior, you owe me one," he said. "And you are going to pay me back later for that window you cracked." Taggert waited tensely as the police cruiser rocked back and forth with the pounding fueled by Lucky's strong legs and panicked mind.
~*~*~*~
Tony was out of breath as he ran up to the three strongly muscled orderlies waiting by the back entrance. "I'm Dr. Tony Jones. We have a patient you're waiting for, Lucky Spencer, in the back lot in a police cruiser. You're going to need some help. He's gone berserk. He's pounding on the glass and breaking it. He can't be sedated because we need to do a toxicology screen first. He's flipping out on some street drug I think."
One orderly nodded and walked to the phone. Two minutes later, another large orderly joined the other three with a straightjacket. "We're ready," he said. "Seventh floor locked psychiatric ward?" Tony nodded sadly.
The men marched out to the car and contemplated the best strategy for dealing with the situation. The police cruiser was still rocking with Lucky's escape efforts. "We want to avoid his feet and getting kicked," instructed the one man. "I say we open the door and let him get out, then subdue him in the parking lot. It'll be safer for everyone. "John, you open the door, and I'll tackle him. You other two restrain his legs while he's down."
John motioned to Taggert to unlock the door, and when he did, Lucky yanked the door open and tumbled out onto the black asphalt pavement. He kept shouting obscenities as he struggled to his feet. One orderly moved in rapidly to take him by a hold from behind and lower him to the ground, while the other two attempted to hold down his legs. Lucky shrieked and thrashed wildly, flexing his legs to kick repeatedly, and he squirmed his trunk back and forth as his hands desperately grabbed at the huge arm that had him around the shoulders. The fourth orderly shoved his arms into the white jacket and pulled it tightly, fastening it in the back. Tony looked on from a distance, aghast at the scene taking place before him.
The men lifted Lucky up into the air and carried him toward the hospital entrance. One man each held a powerful leg. Lucky resisted them all the way, drumming up energy from the powerful drug that he'd taken minutes earlier. Tony followed, taking in deep breaths to stop from crying at the display before him. Lucky's cries echoed through the elevator and made everyone's ears ring as they ascended to the seventh floor. "Open it up," instructed one orderly as they proceeded to the locked door of the maximum security psychiatric ward. A nurse hurried from around the desk to place her access card into the reader.
As the metal door opened and the men entered with Lucky, the boy totally lost it, out of his mind with the frantic adrenaline racing through his bloodstream and reminders of Faison's compound zooming into his consciousness with the large men and locking doors. He jerked so hard that one man lost his grip on his leg and couldn't get near it again to pick it up. Lucky screamed "No, no, no, NOOO!" The orderlies were very surprised when they felt the entire weight of Lucky's body descend on their arms. The kid was silent and not moving, essentially a much heavier dead weight. The orderlies lay him gently on the floor as Barb raced over to see about the commotion. "Oh my God," she said sadly as she looked over at Tony and down at Lucky with his wide, blank, staring eyes.
.