The Same End

by Gregory Ashe

  “Fuck you,” Jem said. “They think they can sew you up in this? Good. I hope you fucking rot. And I hope you get a big old fucker as your bunkmate.”

  He charged out into the hallway. He tried to take deep breaths as he headed for the elevator, but the air had a medicinal smell, and it made him sick. He curled shaking hands into fists. He slipped on something, a wet patch on the vinyl tiles, and went down hard. His knee exploded with pain, and suddenly he wanted to cry. Tears flooded his eyes. He concentrated on the throbbing in his knee. Anything to keep him out of Decker, out of the past.

  A hand caught his elbow and helped him stand. “That looked like a nasty fall,” Ammon said, his voice surprisingly neutral. “Do you want to sit down?”

  Shaking him off, Jem said, “You knew.”

  Ammon’s face was expressionless.

  “You knew, you piece of shit.”

  “We looked him up. When I saw Decker, I thought maybe that’s why he was asking for you. That’s all.”

  “And you didn’t say anything.”

  “It looks like I was right not to.”

  “Fuck you.” Jem took a limping step toward the elevator.

  “Why’d he ask for you?”

  “I don’t know. You’re the fucking detective; figure it out.”

  “I’m asking you to think. Be smart about this. Why’d he ask for you? He could have asked for a lawyer. He could have said nothing. He could have told us whatever he seems to want to tell you. But he asked for you, and that doesn’t make any sense because whatever history you two have, it’s doesn’t look like you’re his white knight.” Ammon hesitated. “Is he an ex?”

  “Jesus, you’d love that.”

  “It’s a legitimate question considering what I just saw in there.”

  “No, he’s not an ex. He’s a miserable, cowardly turd who made my life hell. And whatever he wants, I’m not giving it to him.”

  “Who’s Tanner?”

  “He was their little ringleader. Even worse than old crinkle-cut in there, if you can believe that.”

  “And you don’t want to know why Antonio is willing to send him up for this? You don’t want to know why he’s turning on his buddy? You don’t want to know why he thinks you’re the one who will believe him?”

  Jem jabbed the down button.

  “This is your chance to get back at those pieces of shit.”

  “I can handle that on my own, thanks.”

  “It doesn’t feel good to know that this guy needs you? Is desperate for you to help him? That doesn’t feel even a tiny bit good?”

  “What would feel good, ass-lips, is a bottle of oxy and an icepack.” Jem jabbed the down button again. “Stop talking to me.”

  “If Antonio’s right, and if Tanner’s responsible for this, are you going to be able to sleep at night knowing he’s still out there? Knowing he’ll do this again to someone?”

  “Find him, then. Stop him. That’s your job.”

  “I can’t do anything if Antonio won’t talk to me.”

  Whirling away from the elevator doors, Jem faced Ammon. He limped forward, still favoring his knee, and drilled a finger into Ammon’s chest. Ammon rocked back, but he didn’t give ground.

  “I know you,” Jem said. “I know who you are. I know this is what you do. You get inside people’s heads, and you fuck with them until they don’t know up from down. You do it professionally. You do it personally. You’re not going to do it to me.”

  Ammon’s grin was small and hard. He caught Jem’s wrist, his grip crushing, and leaned in. His breath was warm on the side of Jem’s face. “I’ll dole it out in little scraps here and there. Holding back just enough until he thinks he’s weaseling it out of me. I’ll start with little things. I’ll start to say something and then stop. I’ll pull a long face, and when he asks, I’ll say, ‘No, no, it’s nothing. Just something with Jem.’ He’ll go crazy digging because he’s so protective of you. And then, a few days later, ‘I’m just dealing with a lot of stuff at work, stuff I thought I was going to get some help with.’ And I’ll go on and on like that until he’s finally talked himself into seeing you for what you are: a conniving little shit who only cares about himself, who let a murderer walk free.”

  Something beeped down the hall. At the nurse’s station, two women burst into laughter.

  “Let go of me,” Jem said.

  “Oh my gosh,” one of the women was saying, still laughing. “You’re wicked!”

  “Let go of me,” Jem said again.

  Ammon’s grip relaxed, and Jem twisted free.

  “Well?” Ammon said.

  “Why do you even want him? Why can’t you just leave us alone?”

  “Because he’s mine.”

  “He’s going to figure you out one day. You can’t mindfuck him forever.”

  The smile was only in Ammon’s eyes now, but it was vicious.

  “Fine,” Jem said. “Let’s see what this piece of shit wants from me.”

  7

  Antonio had raised the back of the bed while Jem had been gone. Now he was propped up, the fluorescent lights revealing the scrapes and road rash on the side of his face. He was very light skinned, and at Decker, he’d had a roadmap of freckles across his whole body. Most of those looked like they’d faded with age, but they might have just been hidden by the abrasions.

  “What?” Jem said, dropping into a tubular chair.

  “Not so fast.” Kat pulled out her phone and tapped it a few times. “Let’s do the formalities.”

  With the video recording, Kat and Ammon walked Antonio through several versions of the same thing: his acknowledgment that he understood his rights, was not under duress or medication, and was choosing to waive his right to an attorney for this conversation. At some invisible signal, both cops seemed to decide enough was enough, and Ammon nodded at Jem.

  “Spit it out,” Jem said.

  “Hey, man.” Antonio’s eyes skated over Jem and dropped to the linoleum again. “How’s it going?”

  “No. I didn’t come here to do the good-times roundup. Tell me whatever you want to tell me, and then I’m leaving.”

  “Yeah. Tough. You know, the way we did you, that was messed up—”

  “Keep going, and I’ll walk out that door again.”

  “Ok, ok. Jeez. Look, I didn’t do this. What they’re saying I did. Tanner did it.”

  “The big, bad wolf. I’ve heard this one before. ‘It’s all Tanner’s fault. Tanner made me do it.’”

  “No, man.” Antonio shot up in bed, wincing, but held himself upright. “I loved Andi. I wouldn’t have hurt her. Never.” His eyes filled with tears, and he sagged back against the bed, wiping them away. “You got any tissues or anything? I’m gonna bawl like a bitch in a minute.”

  Ammon ducked out of the room.

  “How’d you know Andi?” Jem asked.

  “She’s my girl.” Antonio hesitated. “Andi said she knew you in a group home. In Tooele.”

  “Foster home. And how the fuck did I become your topic of conversation?”

  “I told her I’d been in Decker. I told her everything.” Antonio had the grace to blush. “Almost everything. She said she knew a kid that got sent there. That’s all.”

  The hum of machinery was a white noise that made it hard for Jem to think. He remembered Andi: blond, too thin, all knees and elbows. She’d been Benny’s age, and they’d overlapped at LouElla’s home in Tooele for less than a year.

  “What about Tanner?”

  “He got her, you know? Fuck, I am so fucking stupid, and I let this happen. When I get out of here, I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch, you know?”

  “You still haven’t given me anything, and I’m getting bored with this. Andi’s dead. That’s too bad. I wish it’d been you instead. Fuck off and die, Antonio.”

  “No, no, no, man. Please. Can you be cool? I’m at a fucking nine, and you’re fucking with my brain. I can’t even
think right because you’re so in my head.” Antonio took a few deep breaths. “I’d been doing a job with Tanner. I didn’t like it; Andi didn’t like it neither. She wanted me to go straight. Blake and I, we both wanted to go straight. Blake says he’s going to meet a nice guy after this, clean up his act.”

  “Jesus. Blake’s gay? Give me a break.”

  “He is. He’s really messed up about it, but he is, and he wants to get out of this life, you know? Me too. Andi’s helping me.” He smiled, and it lasted an instant before it shattered. “Anyway, Tanner’s thing was wack, so I decided to call it quits. I came back up to Salt Lake. Then Tanner started calling. I didn’t want to see him; you know how he gets when someone tries to say no. But he told me things were cool between us, and . . . and I wanted it to be true.” Antonio licked his lips. “So I believed him. He said he wanted to pay me for the time I’d put in. Fuck, man, I wanted to believe that too. I thought he meant later, but Tanner drove all the way back that night. I was low-key freaking out, you know? But things seemed chill. We smoked a few j’s. We had some drinks. Everybody was having a good time. We were partying. Like we do, you know? And we did some shit that must have been bad. It was heavy, really heavy, and we were all messed up. Tanner started putting his hands on Andi. I told him no. Tanner didn’t listen, though. You know how he gets.”

  Jem knew: the feel of a warm hand around his neck, the cold air whispering over his bare skin.

  “Andi tried to pull away. He grabbed her, hard. She slapped him, and he let go. I was on my feet. Tanner was playing with this toy gun he liked, and he shot her. It wasn’t going to kill her or nothing, but she started screaming because it hurt. Tanner liked that.”

  Yes, Jem thought. Yes, Tanner had always liked it when he could get you to make a noise.

  “What kind of toy gun?” Jem asked. “What does that even mean?”

  “It’s not a toy, but it’s not a real gun either. It shot these needles.”

  “Where’d he get it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why’d he have it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I don’t know where he got it,” Antonio said, staring defiantly at Jem.

  “But you know why he had it.”

  “He liked it. Liked shooting things with those needles. He found a jackrabbit with a hurt leg and shot it up really bad, and the poor thing wouldn’t die. He made me bash its head in with a rock.” Antonio sniffled, and a tear slipped free before he could wipe it away.

  Jem laughed. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “It was a rabbit, man. He tortured it!”

  Hands on his shoulders, forcing him onto the scratchy polyester bedding. Hands between his knees. A hand around his neck, so he could only take reedy breaths, so that he was dizzy, his panicked body burning through oxygen. The sudden explosion of pain.

  “He shot her,” Jem said hoarsely. “And?”

  “And she started screaming, like I said. I wasn’t even thinking. I went for Tanner with my bare hands. Nobody was going to do that to Andi. He shoved me, and I went down. I had this nice little Sig on the table, and he grabbed it and shot Andi because she was coming toward him. I—” Antonio’s voice broke. “I ran. He was going to kill me too, man, and there was nothing I could do about Andi.”

  “So you left her to die alone. That’s some genuine, storybook love.”

  “Can’t you make him be nice to me?” Antonio looked at Kat. “I’m not saying anything if you can’t make him be nice to me.”

  “When you were sixteen,” Jem said, “and nothing more than a human-sized waste of DNA, you couldn’t bluff your way through a game of Go Fish. Don’t try to learn now. Here’s what I think. I think they’ve got a gun that has your prints on it. I think they’ve got your girlfriend full of bullets that have your prints on them. They’ve got drugs in the apartment, signs of a struggle, and you trying to run. Why the fuck should anybody believe Tanner was involved?”

  “Because he was, man. You know how he be. He’s . . . he’s scary. If he wants something, he takes it. If he wants to put his dick in something, he’s going to do it. He’s a pussy hound, and he’s a mean one. That’s what gets him off, hurting people. You know that. And if he wants to hurt somebody, he’s going to have fun while he does. I knew he’d try to put this on me. As soon as I ran, I knew. And I knew you’d tell them what he’s like, tell them he did this. I never would have done nothing to Andi. I loved Andi, man. She was my girl.”

  “If you’re telling the truth, they’ll figure it out. If not, I hope they stick you in a hole for the rest of your life.”

  When Jem stood, Antonio lunged upright again, his face twisted with pain. “I heard about you. I heard about Benny. I heard about what you did for that lady who got eaten up by an alligator. People talk about that shit. You can do that for me now. You can prove I didn’t do this.”

  “Maybe,” Jem said. “But I won’t. Like I told you: fuck off and die, Antonio.”

  “Jem, please! Please, man! Do it for Andi.”

  Jem turned away.

  “He’s with Blake. The two of them, together. They’re down in Moab. They’ve got this thing with drugs. Lots of money. Tanner met a girl at a club, and she hooked him up.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “I don’t know. He just wanted us down there for backup, you know?”

  “What’s his plan?”

  “I don’t know. I swear to God, he didn’t tell us anything.”

  “You’re fucking useless.” Jem headed for the door. “And this all sounds like bullshit.”

  “Hold on,” Ammon said quietly.

  Jem kept walking.

  “They’re staying at this place, the Pinyon-Pine Lodge. Jem, if you let me carry this one, he’s going to do it again. He’s going to keep doing it, just like he did you, just like he wanted to do Andi. He’s going to keep—”

  Then Jem was out in the hallway, moving toward the elevator. Quick steps. The blackness at the edge of his vision was threatening to wash in like the surf.

  “Jem,” Ammon said at his shoulder.

  “If you touch me, I swear to God I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  “I just want you to come back so we can—”

  Miraculously, the elevator dinged as soon as Jem touched the button, and the doors slid open. He stepped into the car and jammed buttons on the panel, not caring where he went. Anywhere but here.

  “Do whatever you want. Tell Tean. Arrest me. Shoot me in the back of the head. But I’m not talking to him again. Figure this out yourself.”

  8

  Tean was at work Friday morning when the call came. He thought it might be Jem; he had waited for Jem in the hospital lobby for almost an hour the night before, and then he had tried calling, but Jem hadn’t answered. Finally he had gone home, slept poorly, and woke worried.

  “Please hold for Dr. Castorena,” a nasally young man’s voice said.

  “No,” Tean said.

  The silence on the other end of the call was punctured by a panicked, “You have to!”

  “I’m going to hang up very slowly. She’d better hurry.”

  Two seconds later, a woman’s husky voice came on the phone. “Jeez, I’m sorry, really. I’ve told him a million times not to do that.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “He’s shaking, the poor thing. I don’t know if anyone has ever said no to him before.”

  “There’s always a first.”

  Utah’s state medical examiner had a deep laugh. “Can I ask you to consult on an autopsy today? It won’t take long. I really only have two questions.”

  “I’m very busy today. I’ve got to deal with BassGate.”

  “Do I dare ask?”

  “Two guys who were caught cheating in a bass fishing competition at Lake Powell. It hit local news; it should have been a citation and a fine, but they want to make a federal case out of i
t. You’d think the DWR was conspiring with them.”

  “Sounds like it’s going to take months to unravel.”

  “Frick, please don’t say that. If I have to respond to one more bureaucrat who wants to know what I’m doing about this situation, I’m going to lose my mind.”

  “I really don’t want to drag you away from important business.”

  “You’re the devil,” Tean said. “I’m getting in the truck right now.”

  The Office of the Medical Examiner was located in Taylorsville, a straight shot down the I-215 beltway from the DWR offices. Like so much of new construction in Utah, the ME’s office was glass and steel and desert-toned paints. The exact same design could have been used for a dentist’s office. Or for an Arctic Circle. Or for a spa.

  After signing in at the lobby, Tean asked around until he learned that Elvira was still in the autopsy lab. He put on disposable PPE in the locker room and headed into the lab. It was a clean, brightly lit space with an abundance of equipment—some of it looking extremely high tech, and other pieces that were oldies but goodies: saws, shears, forceps, rolling tables, autopsy tables, and so on. Elvira was standing over one of the autopsy tables, where a young woman’s body lay naked. Even from a distance, Tean could see the damage done from multiple gunshot wounds to the chest. At least four, he counted. The Y-incision showed that her chest and abdomen had already been opened, although the cavities were closed up again—whether out of respect for Tean’s supposed sensibilities or for some other reason, he wasn’t sure.

  Raising her head, Elvira motioned for him to join her. “Alexandria Fontella, twenty-six years old. You can see cause of death for yourself, and this is clearly a homicide. The toxicology report won’t be back for days, probably weeks, but from what I saw at the scene, I won’t be surprised if she has a cocktail of drugs in her bloodstream. They were smoking meth for sure, and I’ll wager a paycheck it was cut with something nasty.” Elvira shook her head, staring down at the girl from behind the face shield. “The whole thing is a mess.”

  “I don’t see any sign of bite marks. I don’t see any sign of animal involvement at all, in fact. What am I missing? Why am I here?”