The Second Coming

by J. Fritschi

  “You’re early,” Kate admonished him pleasantly with her head tilted to the side as she fiddled with her earring.

  Mike was momentarily distracted by her tight black sheath dress that was cut right above her knees and low cut v-neck with broad shoulder straps. Her shiny dark hair hung down over her olive skin like a silk tapestry revealing a respectable amount of cleavage.

  “I was always taught that if you aren’t 5 minutes early, you’re late,” Mike declared as he reached out with the bouquet of flowers. “I bought these for you, but now I see that they pale in comparison to your exquisite effervescence.”

  Kate grinned contritely. “That is very sweet of you,” she said softly as she took the flowers, held them to her face and inhaled with her eyes closed. “Um, they smell lovely. Thank you.”

  “It was the least I could do for the lady who will be buying me dinner tonight,” he said jokingly as he stood on the stoop with his hands in his pocket victoriously rocking back and forth.

  Kate’s shoulders slumped as she smiled dejectedly and reached out to playfully smack him on the shoulder with the bouquet.

  Mike flinched and put his hands up too late to defend himself. “Hey there now,” he protested pleasantly. “Easy.”

  “Come on in while I finish getting ready,” she said as she retreated through the foyer into the kitchen.

  Mike leaped over the threshold feeling like he was full of helium and that if he didn’t hurry the door was going to be slammed shut before he got in. He watched her hips swinging in rhythm as he shut the door with a rattle and followed her into the kitchen.

  “Can I get you a beer?” Kate asked with a playful smile.

  This was the moment of truth. Mike considered his options and actually thought about asking for a sparkling water, but at the last moment something inside of him didn’t feel right or comfortable doing that. It just wasn’t him. Besides Kate didn’t ask him if he wanted a sparkling water and she might think something was wrong with him, like he had a drinking problem and couldn’t handle his liquor. No, he decided he was going to have a beer. He figured he earned it. It had been 5 full days since he last had a drink and he felt great. Certainly a couple of beers wouldn’t hurt him. What was the big deal anyway? It was just a beer. It wasn’t like he was shooting heroine. Why was he having such a hard time with it?

  “A beer sounds good,” replied Mike coolly as he looked around the room at the granite counters and metallic appliances.

  “I’ve got Heineken or Coors Light,” Kate said smiling as she held the refrigerator door open like she was posing for an advertisement.

  “Heineken please,” Mike replied turning his attention back to Kate. She was beautiful and carried herself with such ease and confidence that he couldn’t help but admire her. She pulled 2 beers from the fridge and opened them both with a bottle opener and walked over close enough to Mike that he could smell her sweet fragrance. As she handed him his beer she looked up at him with an alluring smile as she bit the lower corner of her lip. Mike was captivated with her as he consciously tried not to lean forward and kiss her. They clinked the tops of their bottles and took sips staring into each other’s eyes.

  “You don’t like Heineken?” Mike asked breaking the silence.

  “I only drink Coors Light and Champagne,” Kate declared softly with a girlish tilt of her head.

  “Really?” Mike asked intrigued. “How come?”

  “Well I like the taste,” she said, her eyes fluttering as she thought about her reasoning. “I don’t get out of control when I drink them and I don’t get hangovers.”

  They seemed like good reasons to Mike who gave an approving scrunch of his face and nodded his head as he took another sip of his beer. Maybe he should try drinking only Coors Light and Champagne? He couldn’t stop looking at Kate’s beautiful emerald eyes framed by her long, flowing hair as she smiled enticingly at him. Sensing the tension, Kate grabbed Mike by the arm and spun him around towards the door to the hallway.

  “Come on,” she said encouragingly as she pushed him in the back. “I need to finish getting ready and you need to sit down.” Kate continued lightheartedly pushing him down the hall into the living room where she playfully directed him onto the white chenille couch. Mike adjusted himself into a comfortable position as Kate pointed the remote at the flat screen TV in the armoire and clicked it on. She turned to Mike and handed him the remote. “Do you know how to work DirecTV?”

  Mike snatched the remote from her hand and gave her a look of disappointment as if to say “Are you kidding me?”

  “Please,” he said sarcastically as he set his beer down on the leather top of the side wood table. Kate watched with anticipation as Mike clicked over to a college baseball game on ESPN and looked at her for approval. “Is this an HD receiver?” Mike asked displaying his knowledge of the video components.

  “Of course,” Kate bantered back at him as she left the room and went into her bedroom to put her jewelry on. Mike lost interest in the game quickly and began looking around the room at the art work and picture frames lining the bookshelves and tables. He got up and shuffled around looking at the pictures of Kate with her family and friends on sailboats, at beaches, skiing and in front of sunsets. It appeared to Mike that her family owned a house up at Lake Tahoe as there were pictures of people and a rustic cabin with a pier heading out into the Lake.

  “Do you see anything that interests you?” Kate asked enticingly from behind him.

  Mike gave a startle and as he turned to face her, his eyes widened with delight. “Boy, I’ll say,” he said impressed. “You look stunning.”

  “Not me,” Kate replied as she teasingly pushed him in the shoulder. “What do you think of the pictures?”

  Mike smiled sheepishly. “That’s Lake Tahoe, isn’t it?” he asked pointing at the picture as he tried to regroup.

  “It sure is,” Kate confirmed as she grinned fondly at the picture. “My parents have a house on the West Shore.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “How did you know?”

  “My parents have a condominium at Tahoe Tavern. I recognized the west shore.”

  “Shut up!” She replied excitedly amused. “I used to go to tennis camp across the street at Granlibaken. Did you spend your summers at Tahoe as a kid?”

  “I did,” he stated proudly. “I guess we have more things in common than we thought.”

  “Like what?” Kate asked eagerly as she sauntered to the coffee table and picked up her Coors Light and elegantly seated herself in one of the matching slip covered arm chairs with her legs drawn together and tilted to the side.

  “We both work in the criminal field,” he pointed out nonchalantly as he ambled over and flopped back on the couch with his left arm spread out over the top of the pillows and his other hand holding his Heineken in his lap. “And our families both have vacation homes at Lake Tahoe.”

  “That is true, but we each chose our professions for different reasons.”

  “Why did you choose criminal psychology?”

  “I’m interested in how the mind of a criminal works. I want to know what makes them do what they do. I’m fascinated by the fact that all of our brains are wired differently,” she explained as she held her bottle on the round arm of the chair. “What about you? Why did you become a homicide detective?”

  “I don’t think people should have to live in fear in their own homes and neighborhoods and that kids should be able to play outside without worrying about being shot. I believe people are entitled to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”

  “Wow,” Kate said taken aback as she shifted to the other side of the chair and crossed her legs carefully, yet seductively. “You obviously feel very strongly about that. Tell me more about you. Where were you born?”

  “Oakland,” Mike replied plainly.

  “Where did you grow up?”

  “Orinda.”

  “Where did you go to high school?”

  “Mir
amonte.”

  “What year did you graduate?”

  “1987.”

  “What’s your sign?”

  “Virgo.”

  Kate paused and sipped on her beer. “So you’re turning 38 this year? Don’t you think I’m a little young for?”

  “I can handle myself.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” she scoffed. “Where did you go to college?”

  “University of Arizona.”

  “What was your major?”

  “Political science.”

  “Minor?”

  “History.”

  “Did you play any sports?”

  “I played football until I blew my knee out my sophomore year.”

  “What year did you graduate?”

  “1992.”

  “What did you do after you graduated?”

  “I joined the Navy SEALs.”

  “You did not!”

  Mike nodded his head. “When I blew my knee out, the one thing I missed more than anything was being part of a team. When I was in rehab I met a former Navy SEAL who told me the adventures he had been on. I realized the SEALs we’re the team I wanted to be on.”

  “What did your parents say about that?”

  “They weren’t too happy that their little boy was putting himself in harm’s way, but all of my life I had been doing the things I was supposed to do and not the things I wanted to do, so this time I did it for me.”

  “Did you ever kill anyone?”

  The unemotional suddenness of the question caught him off guard. “Only people who deserved to die.”

  “How many people have you killed?”

  “More than I care to talk about.”

  “Do you have any symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder?”

  Mike looked at her with an uncomfortable scowl. “Don’t you think you’re getting a little too personal?”

  “Maybe,” she replied unemotionally. “Maybe I’m just curious how your mind works.”

  Mike shook his head exasperated. “Man, you are good at this interrogation thing, you know that?”

  “A girl can’t be too sure and I like to be in control.”

  “Do you have anything stronger to drink?” Mike asked as he glanced around the room for a wet bar.

  “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

  “You make me want to have a drink,” Mike replied with a ridiculous tone.

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “Do you always answer a question with a question?” Mike asked slightly irritated.

  “If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to.”

  “It’s not that,” Mike said apologetically. “I have nothing to hide. My past is who I am and I’ll tell you anything you want to know. I just don’t know why it interests you so much?”

  “I just want to know what demons Mike McCormick has floating around in his head and why you think drinking will make them go away.”

  “I’ve seen things that no one should ever have to see,” Mike explained indignantly. “Alcohol doesn’t make them go away, but it does temporarily silence them and sometimes that’s enough.”

  “Maybe it would help you to talk about it,” Kate encouraged him. “If not with me, then you should talk to someone who specializes in posttraumatic stress disorder.”

  Mike folded his arms across his chest and crossed his right leg on top of his left knee. He hated the idea of revealing his soul, his every fear and regret, wants and needs to a complete stranger and he certainly wasn’t about to share them with her. He hoped that one day he would be able to open himself up to her, but right now he was guarded. He didn’t want to scare her away with the twisted thoughts and images that played in his head like old time news reels, but he knew she was right. He did need to talk with someone; just not her and not now.

  “I appreciate your concern, but I haven’t met anyone that I can trust with my emotional baggage.”

  Kate smiled understandingly. “I hope that you find her soon Mike McCormick.”

  He smiled with an uncomfortable chuckle. “I hope so too.”

  There was a moment of silence as they both gazed at each other and Mike felt like he was on a job interview that he was failing miserably.

  “Where am I taking you for dinner tonight?” Kate asked intrigued.

  “We have an eight o’clock reservation at Boulevard’s.”

  “I love Boulevard’s,” she replied enthusiastically as she looked at her petite silver Rolex watch. “We better get going,” she told him as she stood straight up on her high heels and set her bottle down on the coffee table with a clink. “I don’t want to be out too late tonight.”

  Mike wasn’t encouraged by the tone of her voice. So far the night wasn’t going as he was hoping. “I can have you home and in bed by eleven.”

  Kate stopped and glared at him with a surprised smile.

  “That didn’t come out right,” Mike explained feeling like an idiot. “You know what I mean,” he told her discouragingly as he stood up. Nice going McCormick he thought to himself as he followed Kate down the hall to the front door. He was sure he was blowing his chances with her and that’s when he decided that if he was going down, he was going to go down in flames. No more trying to impress her by being someone he was not. Fuck this sobriety bullshit. All bets were off. When he got to Boulevard’s he was going to order the biggest martini on the menu and introduce her to the real Mike McCormick.

  chapter 52

  WHEN FATHER JOHN got home, his brother James was standing at the sink rinsing the dishes and loading them into the dishwasher.

  “How’s Dad doing?” Father John asked disengaged as he scuffled over to the white wood paneled fridge, grabbed a bottle of beer and twisted the cap off, tossing it carelessly on the counter.

  “Oh Christ, you scared me,” James replied with a startle as he turned his head and peered over his shoulder while hanging his wet hands over the sink so as not to drip on the hardwood floors. “I didn’t hear you come in. Are you alright?” he asked with concern when he saw Father John’s piqued face.

  “It’s been a long day,” he said with exhausted eyes as he pulled out a stool, sat at the kitchen island and took a few heavy gulps from his bottle of beer.

  “I didn’t know you drank,” James smiled amused.

  “Evidently there are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” Father John retorted matter-of-factly as he gazed at his brother vacantly.

  “Like what?” James asked as he turned and wiped his hands dry with a small towel. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  Mike raised the dark bottle to his mouth and tilted the bottom up and took a large gulp. “Do you know about the Sterling Killer?”

  “Sure, who doesn’t?” James said sarcastically as he walked over and leaned on the counter with both arms, staring at Father John with his dark eyes and neatly parted hair. James was his elder brother by one year and looked distinguished like their father, with sharp features. “You’d have to have been living in a cave not to know about him.”

  “What do you know about him?” Father John asked curious as to what the public knew compared to what he knew from his dreams.

  “I know that he is a serial killer that is raping and stabbing young lady bartenders in the heart with a sterling silver knife shaped like a cross and leaving their disemboweled bodies to be found on altars,” James replied with an obvious tone. “Do you know something else?”

  Father John took another slug from his beer and then set it on the granite counter. He held it with both hands as he fiddled with the label, staring distantly at the bottle. The public knew the details that were released by the police, but they did not know the lust and anger that drove the Sterling Killer and they didn’t know the gory details of his twisted mind that Father John glimpsed in his dreams. Every time he thought about the perverse nature of the Sterling Killer’s thoughts it made him feel like someone had taken his purity. He would never again know what it was like no
t to have an impure thought and it made him feel violated.

  “I’ve been having dreams about the murders,” Father John said as he looked up into his brother’s eyes.

  “What kind of dreams?”

  “I see the murders from the killer’s eyes like I am the one raping and stabbing them. It’s like I am the Sterling Killer in my dreams.”

  “How is that possible?” James asked perplexed as he folded his arms across his chest.

  Father John sighed and took the last swig of his beer. “The police think I may have a split personality that is committing the crimes and that I am mistaking my split personality’s memory of committing the killings as dreams.”

  “I find that hard to believe. You are the most holy person I know. There has to be another explanation.”

  Father John got up slowly and went to fridge and grabbed two more beers and then returned to his stool at the counter and handed one to his brother.

  “The Devil is testing me,” Father John told James as he twisted the cap off of the bottle with a psht. “In the face of the surmounting evidence that I indeed did commit these inhumane crimes, he is testing me to see if I will abandon my conviction in a righteous God.”

  “What will you do if they arrest you?”

  “I will accept my fate as the will of God.” Father John replied plainly. “It is not for me to ask why; it is only for me to accept that it is part of God’s grand plan. If there is one thing I have come to know after all my years of learning, it’s that we cannot know and understand what God’s plan is. We have to have faith.”

  James took a long swig from his beer as he pondered what his brother was telling him. “What if you do have a split personality that committed these crimes? What will you do then?”

  Father John glared at James disappointed. “If the Devil has created a split personality in me, God will grant me the strength to defeat him.”

  James shook his head with disbelief. “I don’t know whether to admire your faith or to feel sorry for you for allowing your faith to lead you down a path of self destruction.”