by Pawan Verma
“Jessica, we got plenty of good reasons to think he’s coming for you and your uh…boyfriend.”
Jessica’s heart sank as she mulled over the disastrous news. Brenner wouldn’t get anywhere near Andrew, not while he was locked away tightly in whatever corner of the country the Marshal Services had placed him in. But what if Andrew didn’t have plans to stick around? What if he planned on quitting the program to come back and be with her? As much as she still liked the idea, it would be a dangerous move—for both of them.
Shelton must have been reading her mind. “I need you to come meet me here at the victim’s old place.”
Jessica frowned again. “Really? I’m pretty sure Lieutenant Mann said he doesn’t want me anywhere near the case.”
“Yeah, well I talked to him. And this case is top priority now, especially since a homicide detective and a federal witness are in the crosshairs.”
Jessica swallowed the lump in her throat as she pulled to a halt at the next traffic light. It was difficult to tell if this was good news or not. “Where’s your partner, Shelton?”
“Temporarily reassigned to Vice Unit. It’s me and you now.”
A small grin crossed her lips. The fear and sense of recklessness she’d felt six months ago returned. With it came the confidence she’d been hoping to have. Sometimes all it took to regain lost confidence was knowing you had a job to do and people depending on you to do that job effectively.
“I’ll be there in a bit, Shelton. Don’t move.”
She ended the call without telling her new partner she’d been on her way to Irene Brenner’s condo on the West Side all along. Yet another secret she had to keep from people who were working their hardest to protect her.
Doctor Chapman would have to schedule another appointment.
Patrick and Irene Brenner’s former home was less than two minutes away and she couldn’t help but wonder how’d she’d managed to stay so close to memories that were both tragic yet so pleasant. After the nine-year-old boy’s death, the couple had ceased to keep up with mortgage payments. No homeowner had lived in the property since a few weeks after the trial had ended.
Jessica pulled into the suburban neighborhood which reminded her slightly of her own. This side of the city was far less violent and far more attractive than many of the city’s other areas. Yet Irene had been gunned down less than three blocks from where she’d begun raising a child.
Detective Michael Shelton’s squad car sat parked at the front curb next to a shiny red pickup truck. Jessica parked just a few feet from the truck. A real estate agent drove away as Jessica exited the vehicle and walked to the front porch. Her stomach tensed as she approached the home as she contemplated the likelihood that something would go horribly and unexplainably wrong.
Jessica expected to see Detective Michael Shelton inside Irene Brenner’s old townhouse, boasting his usual arrogant smirk, a twinkle in his eye suggesting that a wisecrack was a mere second away. So she was surprised to see him appear so grim, his thin lips tightly closed as if he too had some secret he needed to protect.
Looking past her partner, Jessica realized that was in fact the case. There was another man in the home. African American, tall, and somewhat muscular. His skin seemed to glow in a way that made his smile even more charming. But his eyes weren’t nearly as bright as they were when she had looked adoringly into them during the last night they’d spent together.
And since keeping secrets was turning out to be so exhausting, Jessica decided to stop holding back.
“Andrew,” she whispered, just in case it wasn’t true. Because she hadn’t expected he’d come after she’d told him to stay away, even though he’d said he wouldn’t.
Tears filled her eyes. She ran towards the man who had saved her life—and Irene Brenner’s. She wrapped him up in a tight bear hug reminiscent of the ones her grandmother once gave her so long ago. She felt moisture on her cheeks as he told her how much he loved her.
Jessica knew the tears were his. She knew the time they had to express their love wouldn’t last anywhere near as long as she needed it to be.
“Jessie baby, I know this sounds crazy. But we gotta get outta here. And your partner’s gonna help us do just that.”
Jessica didn’t answer. She just held Andrew closer as Shelton looked on.
Chapter Four : “Till Death Do Us Part”
Why can’t you just let me go?
All I wanted was for us to be together.
And look how it worked out, Patrick.
Irene, it worked out beautifully! I went to therapy, I got off the booze. We have a kid for crying out loud!
Yada, yada, will you quit your complaining, Patrick. I’m going out.
Patrick Brenner exhaled as he wiped sweat off his forehead. He knew why Irene had gone out that night. He’d been there, addicted to a substance, knowing he was throwing his life away. He’d also remembered throwing a few punches, in desperation, to keep Irene from walking out with her son that night.
And now here he was, ending yet another ten-hour shift and feeling more empty than ever before. He had nothing to live for, nothing to care for. Not even for himself. Revenge was on top of his mind. His counselor had told him that revenge wouldn’t help him move on; it would only help him feel better in the moment.
My son was denied justice, but I can’t fail him. I’ll get him justice. All by myself. He kept telling himself.
Patrick sighed as he contemplated his next move. He hadn’t expected the lady detective to be such a problem and it had backfired. If the whole plan was as simple as walking up to Jessica Galloway and Andrew Hoffman and taking their lives, then he would have done that long ago, no problem. But it wasn’t that simple. It never had been. These people had to know what it was like to have control completely taken away from them, the very people and things they loved forever wrested away.
The time would come for both Jessica and Andrew to admit the truth.
Patrick managed a small grin as he punched his time sheet for the evening. Holding an odd job or two had never been an issue for him. His co-workers at the power plant downtown didn’t need to know a thing about his personal life, after all. Patrick kept his eyes low to the floor as he moved through the warehouse. He’d learned from experience over the years how one minor mistake could catch up to him. A neighbor who got a bad impression from him. A cashier at a supermarket who found him unusually interesting to the point that she left work and gossiped. Mistakes added up and over time became a mess.
His plan to eliminate his targets and escape would never work if he could not succeed in making people believe he was a changed man.
Patrick exited the warehouse and walked towards his pickup truck. He’d worked at the power plant since Irene had been acquitted. The work was nothing more than a charade that allowed him to stalk the old area where he’d once lived with without creating suspicion. In fact, the old house was less than two blocks away from the warehouse.
Patrick jumped into his pickup truck and switched on the radio as always. He nodded to a few of the men, shot a thumbs-up at his supervisor, and pulled out of the parking lot. Confident that no one was around to see him behave the way he truly felt, Patrick slammed his fist into the steering wheel. Once again, the haunting images returned, Little David’s grinning face, his drug rehab counselor telling him if he could just stay clean he’d learn to stop being violent, the horrible car crash. And Irene, half-drunk, being transported away from the mangled vehicle on a stretcher wearing her usual stupid grin.
He gritted his teeth, rolled the windows down in the truck even though the temperatures were below twenty degrees. A few drivers in other vehicles stared as they noticed his erratic behavior. He couldn’t help it. At any given hour of the day, Patrick felt as if he were a mere seconds from exploding.
He sped through a red light less than a half second after it had changed. Horns blared. An angry pedestrian cursed. The weather had worsened in the last twenty-four hours and Patrick wrestled
the steering wheel as the tires lost traction on the icy roads. After driving manically for a few minutes, Patrick reduced his speed as he pulled into the neighborhood where he’d raised his little boy and tried to build a life for himself and his family.
As he approached to within a block of the house, Patrick spotted a shiny red pickup truck parked in the driveway. Then he spotted the unmarked police cruiser and another vehicle he’d never seen before. He knew what was happening here. The lady detective, realizing her career was on the line, and that Andrew would eventually lead her to a world of trouble, had decided to meet with her supposedly protected-in-witness-protection secret boyfriend. Another cop had showed up to make it all happen.
Patrick switched off the engine and allowed the car to roll down silently up to the house. He stopped the car in front of the house and crouched down in the driver’s seat. He rolled down the windows and kept the front door ajar so that he could just make out the conversation coming from inside the house.
He waited in silence, his anger gone now. The closeness to the house, which once used to be his sweet home, made him feel nostalgic. The memories of the good times he had spent with his wife Irene and his little son David kept appearing like flashback. A pensive sigh escaped his throat and he incoherently uttered “David” as images of he and David having a mock pillow fight kept coming before him. Before he could wipe his eyes, a few drops of tear fell on his cheeks, giving him a warm sensation.
Andrew, we might get a head start if we leave now…
Patrick was startled back to reality and was all ears listening to the conversation coming out of the house.
“What do you expect me to say to the supervisors when you two just run off? Another officer, one Patrick had never heard or seen before asked the question.
Patrick had to resist the urge to laugh as he listened to the interchange. It was clear the group was discussing vigilantism. And hilariously, it was probably Jessica Galloway’s dumb idea in the first place. The hotshot homicide detective was unaware that the subject she hunted was listening to her every word.
She’d given him the chance he needed. Again.
From inside his truck, Patrick froze as he heard the sound of snow crunching beneath someone’s shoes. Someone was approaching the truck, slowly, carefully. His heart began to race as he realized now he’d been played, that Detective Galloway had set him up for trying to avenge his son’s death. As the sound of the approaching footsteps increased in volume, Patrick reached below the passenger’s seat for his pistol.
“The neighbors get wary when people sit in their cars,” a man’s voice said weakly.
Patrick laughed politely and smiled into the man’s eyes. Although he appeared to be aged around sixty, his eyes and behavior indicated he was fully willing, and fully capable, of handling himself in a dangerous situation.
Patrick played it cool.
“I’m terribly sorry, sir. I was waiting on a friend to come by. I’ll be leaving though.”
The neighbor didn’t respond and for a second Patrick felt as he were back in his childhood home in Atlanta, Georgia, a timid, alienated child struggling to fit anywhere outside the comfort of his own bedroom. Angered and overwhelmed with the need for exact violence, Patrick considered killing the nosy old man with the hopes of leading the detective and her friends on a wild-goose chase. But he controlled himself thinking that it would distract him from his main purpose. Ultimately, he decided he’d learned enough for the day and it was safer to move on.
He apologized again to the neighbor who now stood nearly in the middle of the street, his palms flat outstretched to his sides. Patrick started the pickup truck and sped away in the opposite direction. As he drove, he kept his eyes peeled on the rearview mirror just in case Detective Galloway or her boyfriend raced out of the home to see who was speeding away.
But neither the police officer nor her lover exited the home. Nothing about the ongoing conversation indicated they had a clue the killer they searched for was less than fifty feet away.
Patrick thumbed the steering wheel as he headed home. How much could Detective Galloway accomplish if she were no longer a police officer?
The thoughts delighted him. And for the first time during that exhausting workday, he considered the possibility of returning to a normal life when this was all over. Find another job far away, meet another woman—preferably someone with a little more sense than Irene—maybe settle down and get married all over again. After all, the vow he’d taken upon marrying Irene was no longer relevant.
Till death do us part. Patrick snickered at the irony. Then he turned the dial up on the radio and patted the cushioned seat beside him. Laying on top of the cushions was a fairly comprehensive notebook he kept documenting the police officer’s activities over the last three days. Soon, Detective Galloway would have far too many questions to answer, and little time to get in the way.
Chapter Five : Vigilante
Every second Jessica Galloway spent driving away from Baltimore City was another second she wished she could stop and turn around before it was too late. The truth was, she’d probably made enough mistakes to end the careers of a half-dozen police officers, let alone a detective who was already under fire for dereliction of duty.
Yet the complications that awaited back at the precinct, and her love for the only man who could help make it all go away was worth the risk of running away with a federal witness, not to mention jeopardizing an ongoing homicide investigation. And of course, there was still Patrick Brenner.
“So you’re the cop,” Andrew said to her as she drove fifty-five in a forty-five miles per hour neighborhood. “What do we do now, Detective?”
“We prove that Patrick Brenner killed his wife, then we prove just how far gone he really is.”
“Okay, I get it. You still planning on being a cop after all this is over?”
“I haven’t figured that part out yet,” Jessica said coyly. She smiled, tossing her head to the side long enough for him to see her teeth peeking out from under her lips. “Look, my supervisor wanted to keep me away from this investigation since the beginning. So unfortunately, we’re going to have to start from the beginning.”
“Where else would we start?” Andrew asked with a chuckle.
“What I’m saying is, this is going to take some time. I know a couple of Brenner’s friends from his A.A. meetings.”
“Are we not looking at any other suspects?”
Jessica sighed. “Not right now, no. I at least want to interview this guy, maybe pressure him a bit and find out what he knows.”
“Okay, I’ll tag along then,” Andrew said.
“No offense, but I don’t think that’s a good idea, babe. It’s not safe for both of us to be doing this.”
“No one knows I’m around.”
“That’s not the point. You stick your neck up in the wrong places and your friends are going to come back and, well, you know what I’m getting at.”
Andrew seemed to think about it for a moment. Then finally he spoke. “I’ll go find some place to lay low. But I am coming with you to talk to whoever the heck you’re plannin’ on talking to. Who is he anyway?”
Jessica slowed the vehicle down at the next intersection and tried to avoid making eye contact with a nearby patrol officer. Any minute, the folks back at Homicide would start to wonder what was really going on. The story Detective Shelton had to offer would only buy them so much time.
The two agreed on the plan. Jessica looked down at the GPS system inside Andrew’s red pickup truck. They were roughly twenty minutes away from the Methodist church. If she hurried, she’d make it to the Alcoholics Anonymous meeting before it began.
Jessica gunned the engine and yanked the steering wheel hard to the left. Car horns blared as Andrew protested in the passenger’s seat. She managed to mumble an apology before cutting across an empty parking lot and swerving back into traffic.
“I’m just trying to save us as much time as possible,” she said. �
��It won’t be long before people start getting the wrong ideas.”
Her cell phone started buzzing in her pocket. Ignoring the caller wouldn’t work so she answered. “Lieutenant Mann?” she asked.
“You’ve lost your mind, haven’t you? Why aren’t you with Shelton?”
“I’m sorry Lieutenant. Things were getting a bit—
“I don’t want to hear your excuses, Galloway! The commissioner will have my badge for this!”
Jessica swallowed the lump pushing its way into her throat. Why couldn’t she ever be faced with a decision that worked out well for a change? Whether she’d gone with Andrew or not, nothing would have gotten better. At least this way there was hope.
“Lieutenant—
“I don’t know where you are, but I’ve sent patrol and Internal Affairs to pick you up. If you’re out running around with a gun, then you have one hour to get in here before I start telling people you’re a rogue cop.”
He ended the call, his last words being among the most horrible Jessica had ever heard. The traffic had thinned out significantly over the last few minutes and the drive had become quieter. The temporary calm in the midst of grave danger produced a wave of nausea in the pit of Jessica’s stomach. She felt sick and overwhelmed with despair. Worst of all, there wasn’t much that Andrew could do about it.
Maybe he knew. Maybe that explained why this was the first time he wasn’t saying anything, because there were no perfect words he could utter to make her feel better. She snuck a glance over in his direction and she could see the concern burrowing its way into his eyebrows. His normally smooth, calming demeanor was gone, replaced with tension and stress. And for a moment, she couldn’t help but wonder what that stress could cause him to do.
Seeing Andrew among the enemy, a man who could harm her like before, was the worst part of it all. She’d hit rock bottom and couldn’t depend on the one man who’d once promised to save her.
At the next light, Jessica slowed the vehicle and shut her eyes for a moment. She took a deep breath and struggled to regain the confidence she’d had the day she went to visit Irene in the parking lot. Finally, she opened her eyes and pointed to a large church where a group of people were congregating outside.