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by Gianna Boiani

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE

  It was almost ten and John was starting to become concerned. Todd was never late and the few times that he actually took a day out of work he gave plenty of notice. This wasn't like him. He had been due in at eight, almost two hours ago. John's text to Todd remained unanswered and his calls went to voicemail. John's plan was to give him until noon and then head over to his house to check on him. Did Jacqueline have a complication? Were they at the hospital? John tried to calm his mind and tell himself that there must be an explanation. John sent a text to Julie:

  Check on Jacqueline. Todd didn't come to work.

  At a quarter to twelve, John headed over. On his way, he received a text from Julie.

  Nothing from Jacqueline. I called. Sent a text. No answer.

  As he pulled up to Todd's house he saw Todd's car in the driveway. He pulled up in front, walked to the door and knocked. No answer. He knocked again, louder this time. Nothing. "Todd? Jacqueline?" he called. Nothing. John tried the doorknob. It turned. He pushed the door open and walked in. He stepped into the foyer and again called "Todd? Jacqueline?" Then he froze. He saw a vision that brought terror to his senses. He saw on the floor in the dining room a lifeless body. He quickly walked through the living room to reveal the horror before him. Todd. On the floor. Dead. John fell to his knees with his hands on his head. "No!" he said to himself aloud. "No!" He then noticed Jacqueline's body splayed out on the floor on the other side of the table. He checked both bodies for a pulse but there was nothing. Gone. Gone forever. He felt Jacqueline's belly but it was cold and lifeless. He screamed as he fell to the floor in pain and horror. After ten minutes of anguish, he finally sat up and put his hands over his face. The hurt slowly started to turn to anger. He cleared his head. He had to call this in, but first he needed to investigate a bit on his own. His search of the house uncovered Jacqueline's phone submerged in water in the toilet. Other than that, nothing. Not a thing out of place. No clues. Nothing to the naked eye anyway. John went back to the bodies and he could tell from the marks around their throats that they were both strangled. John then went out to check Todd's car. It was open, which was strange. Todd always locked his car. He must have been in a rush. Then John noticed Todd's phone on the passenger seat. He grabbed it and punched in 1-2-2-0 which Todd just set as his security code since he found out the baby's due date was December 20th. He searched in and outgoing calls. Nothing out of the ordinary. He saw his own call and voicemail. He then checked the texts. He saw his from that morning and scrolled down until one caught his eye from Jacqueline:

  Silas Alvah is here. He said that you wanted to go over a case file with him.

  John became light headed and had to get out of the car into the fresh air. Silas Alvah? Who the hell is that? he wondered. He then doubled over and vomited in the grass. When done he wiped his mouth, pocketed Todd's phone and called the scene in.

  CHAPTER NINETY

  "We say that our hour of death cannot be forecast, but when we say that, we imagine that hour as placed in an obscure and distant future. It never occurs to us that it is close at hand, waiting to pounce when we least expect it. Todd, Jacqueline, and their baby were taken from us before their time. In these instances, we search for meaning, reason in God's choices. Sometimes they are not evident to us and may never be, but have faith that there is a plan. A plan that will bring us all together in the end. Give your grief to God and may these innocent souls rest in peace."

  It was a cold, rainy, raw afternoon for the funeral. It was the hardest and worst day of John's life. The priest had finished his homily and the procession was on its way to the cemetery. John and Julie followed the hearse in silence. Julie had hardly spoken after John told her the day it happened. She was in a dark place and John knew that it would take much time and healing for her to resurface. Jacqueline was like a sister to her and she had already acquired a motherly kinship to the baby.

  As they pulled up to the cemetery, John felt a shiver go through his body. This was the part that he feared the most. Setting the coffin in the ground. The reality and finality of the loss hits you like a ton of bricks. They got out of their vehicle and headed to the gravesite. After the committal was said the coffins were lowered. The friends and family took turns scattering earth over the graves. Julie threw a rose over each coffin and then walked away, back to the car, tears streaming down her face. John turned to follow her when Jacqueline's parents walked up to him. "Mr. and Mrs. Nash, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that I couldn't prevent it."

  "John, it's not your fault," Jim said. "We just wanted to tell you something."

  "The baby was a boy,” Claire said. “My daughter informed me but made me promise not to tell anyone. She wanted it to be a surprise." She continued, "His name was John, after you. We wanted you to know." With that said, Claire started crying and walked away. Jim put his hand on John's shoulder, nodded his head and followed his wife.

  CHAPTER NINETY-ONE

  John and Julie had hardly spoken the two days after the funeral. John needed to get away for the night. He headed to The Alibi to drink and talk to his friend. He pulled up, entered the bar and took his usual seat. "Hey John, Brooklyn?"

  "Not tonight, my friend. Tennessee, neat."

  Red raised his eyebrows a bit and poured John a glass of Jack Daniels. "John, I heard. I'm sorry. It's horrible. How are you doing?"

  "Well Red, right now, not well. I feel numb. It still hasn't totally settled into my head."

  "John, in times like these people to try to find and say that perfect phrase to ease the pain but, honestly, there is nothing I could say that would help. I'm here for you whenever you need me. That's all I have to offer you."

  "That's all I need, buddy. That and you do your job and keep filling this," John said as he raised his empty glass.

  "Well, that I can do my friend," Red replied as he poured John another drink.

  "You know what drives me nuts, Red? When people say everything happens for a reason. I mean, what does that even signify? God is up there pulling strings? Creating our destinies? Or is it just symbolic? If you wait long enough and twist enough data you can discover a silver lining in anything. Why did this happen? What is the reason? There is no and never will be a silver lining from this. Nothing. Nothing good could ever come of this. Do you know the real reason people say that? To make themselves feel better. To give their lives a feeling of stability, of structure. To make themselves feel like they have some sense of control in an abstract, chaotic world. It is a way for them to accept grievous, unfortunate things that happen while thinking there is a reason, a plan in place, that will benefit them in the end, but you know what Red…there is no plan. Our destinies are a combination of our decisions, timing and stupid luck. It's chaos Red. That is what this world is made of and sometimes that chaos kills innocent, good people. Chaos. It is just there, floating around waiting to pounce on someone, good or bad, life or death. A thin line separates it all."

  John was finally finished with his rant. He took the last sip of his whiskey and pushed his glass forward for another. Red grabbed it and poured. "Well, being Catholic, I should disagree with you. But, your statements make too much sense to disagree with my friend," Red said. "It's a chaotic world and we control much less of it than we would like to admit to ourselves."

  John drank for the rest of the night. It was two in the morning when Red drove John home, helped him to the door, met Julie and told her John was in rough shape, mentally and physically. Julie thanked Red for watching over him and keeping him safe. After Red left, Julie held her husband and they both broke down and cried. Cried for the loss of their friends. Cried because the chaos of an uncontrollable world hit them hard. Cried for a long time in each other's arms, until they both fell asleep, having let their pain escape for the first time since the tragedy.

  CHAPTER NINETY-TWO

  Two days later, John was back to work. Captain Johnson called him into his office when he saw John at his desk. "Ye
s, captain?" John said when he walked in.

  "John, have a seat," he said as he pointed to the empty chair on the opposite side of his desk. John sat. "John, I am giving you a week of paid leave. You have been through so much the last few months. This, Todd and his family, is enough to put any sane man over the edge. I will not let that happen to you."

  "Sir, I'm fine. I want Todd's case. No one knows more about his family than I do. I can solve it."

  "John, I have no doubt that you can but you are too close to the flame here. You need to step back. Take a week. Spend it with your wife and children. Reset. I need you right for the long haul."

  "Sir, I ask you to reconsider. I want to do this," John said.

  "Yes, John, you want to do this. That is the problem. You want to do it too much. You are emotionally involved. My decision will not change. You are my best detective. Clear your head. Mourn. I will see you in ten days."

  John didn't say another word. He stood up and walked out without a glance back.

  CHAPTER NINETY-THREE

  At first, John spent the week doing what the captain had advised him to. He spent time with Ryann and Gianna, comforted his wife and most of all, mourned. Until tonight. The children were in bed and Julie was working the overnight at the hospital. John was alone. Alone with his thoughts and free time. He had his laptop open in front of him. He searched the name Silas Alvah in his database. Once John hit the enter key there was no turning back. It was the start of a mission. A mission to solve the murder of his friends. A mission to bring those responsible to justice. At first, John couldn't locate much information on this man, but if you are a detective with clearance and you know where to look, you can find out anything on anyone. Silas was a forensic entomologist. He worked on cases side by side with the police. If Silas was over Todd's house that night, as Jacqueline had claimed, where was his body? This obviously points to Silas Alvah as the killer, but why? Was there something else involved here? Something more intricate and complicated? What was his motivation if he did do it? These thoughts, this mystery, sparked a flame in John's heart and mind that would not be extinguished until he solved it. Being off duty and off the assignment of this case meant John would have to be very careful with how he went about investigating it. But, he would solve it. John was the best and he knew it. No other detective had the intuition, the instincts or the confidence in his convictions like John Corbin did. The killer was still out there, free, while his friends lay in their graves and John would find him. The trail started with the first clue, Silas Alvah.

  CHAPTER NINETY-FOUR

  John walked into the Seattle Lab of Entomology and up to the front desk. A man in a lab coat walked out of a room in the back after John pressed the buzzer at the front desk. "May I help you, sir?" the man said. John paused a few seconds to look him over. Not a big man, average height, maybe 160 pounds, chiseled features outlining a handsome face. He had deep-set, dark eyes. "Hi, I am looking for case file #C103," John said.

  "Sure, let me check," the man said as he looked the number up on his computer. "Hmmm. Nothing on file. Let me check the file cabinet for the physical copy." John watched him walk away and something about the way the man moved caught his attention. He seemed to glide above the floor, without a care in the world. He walked with a subdued confidence, like nothing really mattered and everything and everyone was here for his amusement and enjoyment. Almost like he knew and understood the secret to life. Two minutes later, the man returned. "Nothing. Are you sure it was this lab?"

  "Maybe they gave me the incorrect case number. Let me check," John said. He then pretended to dial a number on his cell phone.

  "Sir? Yes, the case number. Was it C103? Yes? The entomology lab. Oh...okay got it. Thanks."

  John hung up and looked back at the man. "It was a different lab Mr. ...?"

  "Alvah, Silas Alvah. Not a problem. Have a good day Detective...?"

  "Smith. Detective Smith. You as well," John said. As John walked out of the lab what remained on his mind was the man's eyes. It was as if they were endless black holes that looked through you rather than at you. John felt that deep, strange, knowing twinge in his gut. A twinge that had told him that Mr. Silas Alvah was capable of dark things. Dark, evil things. A twinge that told him that Mr. Silas Alvah was guilty of murder. A twinge that told him that Mr. Silas Alvah was guilty of murdering his friends.

  CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE

  For the rest of the week, John continued his covert investigation of Silas Alvah. It seemed Silas never knew his father and was raised exclusively by his mother, a very religious woman, in Mission, Texas. Silas had no criminal record of any kind. No accidents. Not even a parking ticket. He had a perfect driving record. He had a perfect credit rating. He never missed a day of work and also had perfect attendance through school. John felt him to be a very structured man, on the borderline of controlling, with obsessive-compulsive habits. He attended U. C. Davis and graduated with a 4.0 GPA. John learned that Silas was chosen as a finalist for valedictorian, but refused the honor. He was never married. No children. He was very much an introvert who kept to himself. He was a super intelligent loner, raised by a single mother who was a religious zealot and the signs that Mr. Alvah could very well be capable of murder were present. The further John dug into Silas' life, the further his profile came into focus. John knew his instincts were correct. He would have to be sure, without a doubt. He knew what he had to do. Silas' weakness became clear to him. He would use that to get the truth.

  CHAPTER NINETY-SIX

  It was Friday, 5:45 p.m. John pulled up to the lab, parked his truck and walked in. The lab closed at 6:00 p.m. so John knew his interrogation of Mr. Alvah would not be disturbed. He walked up to the front desk and waited. Mr. Alvah soon appeared. "Hello, Detective Smith. How are you? What can I do for you?"

  "I have a few questions I'd like you to answer," John said as he turned and locked the door. Silas followed John's movements like a hawk.

  "Sure. About what?"

  "There was a triple homicide a few weeks ago and I have reason to believe that you might have been involved. Do you know a Todd McGrath, or his wife Jacqueline?" John asked. John noticed it immediately. The quickest flash in Silas Alvah's eyes. His natural reactions betrayed him before he could control them. Mr. Alvah was good. Very good. A split second and the flash was gone, almost undetectable to the average person's eye, but John Corbin was no average person.

  "Hmm. McGrath? The name doesn't ring a bell. Who was he?" Silas asked.

  "He is a detective, my partner, and good friend. Are you telling me that you do not know him?" John asked.

  "Well, if he was a detective, he might have come in here for a case a time or two."

  "Interesting that you used past tense when you talk about him. I never said he was one of the deceased. The problem is, Mr. Alvah, I have good intel that tells me you were over his house the night they were killed. I think the intel to be correct. I think that you strangled them both and killed their unborn baby in the process," John said.

  "You can't be serious. I am no killer." John took out Todd's phone, pulled up the text from Jacqueline and showed Silas. "There must be some misunderstanding," Silas said.

  "No, there isn't. You killed them and their baby. Admit it to me." John pressed.

  "I did no such thing. I am a God-fearing man," Silas said.

  "Fuck you and your God. You know what, you piece of shit, he doesn't exist. He is a figment of your imagination. Accept it."

  "Shut your filthy atheist mouth or I will shut it for you!"

  John started to notice a change in Silas. No longer was he the cool, calm, controlled man. He now showed a different side, filled with panic and uncertainty. John had struck a nerve. "Silas, your mother lied to you all of those years. She was crazy, just like you are now. Wasting your time praying to a God that doesn't exist is, by definition, insane.”

  "No! I will not listen to you and your filthy talk. Now go!" Silas yelled as h
e pointed to the door.

  "Your mother led you astray because she was crazy like yourself. I will go when you accept that there is no God and you admit to me that you are a murderer."

  "If you say that one more time, God himself will strike you down dead!" Silas screamed, becoming more agitated and animated with every second. John knew now that he had Silas on his hook, he just needed to reel him in. Silas' eyes were inflamed, burning with hate.

  "Okay, say your God is real, Silas. How do you think he would feel about what you did? Do you think he would still accept you as his child, or would he banish you from the flock? Disown you, like your father did? Leave you alone for eternity, to burn and rot in a sea of flames, to pay for what you have done?"

  "I did it for him! I always do it for him!" Silas shrieked as he rushed at John and tried to grab him by the throat. John was ready for it. He sidestepped Silas and took him to the floor. John held him down and turned him over. "How many? How many have you killed?"

  "I lost count," Silas said.

  "Why Todd?" John screamed.

  "God wanted them. They needed to be set free."