No Closure, No Forgiveness

by Pawan Verma

  “There,” she said to Andrew. “That’s the church where Patrick has his AA meetings.”

  “I thought they usually do these things at night,” Andrew said. He reached underneath the seat and pulled out a green baseball cap. He placed it on his head, then turned it around backwards. With his sunglasses, jeans, and hooded sweatshirt, the former marijuana user would have no problem blending into the recovery scene.

  Today’s Alcoholics Anonymous meeting took place in the afternoon, just after one o’clock. Jessica didn’t expect Patrick to be present but she knew a face that would. After parking the truck, she used her phone to show Andrew a picture of a glaring man.

  “His name is Carson. He’s a known criminal, when’s he using cocaine, that is.”

  “Let me guess, he’s not using cocaine now?”

  “I haven’t heard from him. But there he is, up ahead.”

  Jessica nodded at a short, bald man sitting on the church stairs. In his right hand was a large pastry, in his left a two-liter bottle of soda. From the way his belly protruded from his shirt, afternoon snacks like these were all too common.

  A car stereo softly played rap music. A few of the meeting attendants looked up and smiled warmly as they approached. Carson didn’t look as happy to see them. As soon as he caught Jessica’s eyes, he stood up, dropped the soda and pastry, and ran in the opposite direction.

  This is not good, Jessica thought as she waved her badge. “Carson, stop! Police!”

  Carson kept jogging, moving slow enough that Jessica could have caught him if she tried to crawl on all fours. Jessica waited for him to duck into a nearby alley before she and Andrew raced in and grabbed him, turning him around, and slamming his body against the wall.

  “Yo, I didn’t do anything, officer!”

  “Oh shut up,” Jessica said as she cuffed him and searched him for weapons. So far, no one had called the police. So far things weren’t going as bad as she had assumed they would.

  “Look buddy, I know we don’t always see things eye to eye, but right now I need your help.”

  That was enough to get him to stop yelling. The binge-eating career criminal frowned. “Why do you need my help? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Be quiet and listen. I need to know if you talked to your old friend, Patrick Brenner.”

  Carson began breathing heavily. “Look, I got nothing to say about that guy. I want a lawyer!”

  “Hey, hey,” she said trying to get him to calm down. But Carson only became more anxious, fighting and yelling in protest.

  “Hey, what are you guys doing to that man?” a woman asked from the end of the alley.

  Jessica glanced at her—and the crowd of onlookers—quickly walking towards the scene. She read Carson his rights, making sure that her badge was visible to the witnesses. It was no use, a young woman who looked like a younger sister to the woman who had initiated the protest began recording the incident with her cell phone camera.

  “Is this a false arrest?’ she asked. A quiet chant ensued. The crowd of six began repeating the words FALSE ARREST. The situation was all but completely out of control as she shoved Carson into the back of the pickup truck. The recovery meeting attendants shouted louder, drawing the attention of a half-dozen late evening pedestrians who dared to brave the weather. Smart phones came out. Text messages and social media updates would draw a larger crowd if Jessica and Andrew didn’t leave while they had the chance.

  Catching a killer was becoming increasingly impossible.

  Chapter Six : “Everything We’ve Been Through”

  Panting, Jessica jumped back into the truck and turned the keys in the ignition. The pickup started with a roar, its tires burning rubber as Jessica fled the downtown mall area. In the passenger’s seat, Andrew breathed heavily as he tried to relax. It was the first time Jessica had ever seen him afraid.

  She hoped he still had the confidence he usually had. Hers was running on fumes.

  “You got a plan here genius?” Andrew asked as they pulled away from the city streets and towards the interstate. Uncertain of what chaos would await them around the next corner, Jessica repeatedly checked her rearview mirror. It was only a matter of time before the same police officer she’d served alongside for years came to hunt her down as a traitor.

  Jessica wanted to ditch the truck, especially since the shiny model was presumably the same vehicle federal authorities had given Andrew when he went into witness protection. But first, there was the snobbish recovering drug addict sitting crammed in the backseat. Glancing at the rearview mirror again, Jessica could see only the side of Carson’s knees as he attempted to stretch out in the truck’s backseat; his height and weight proved to be a tight fit.

  Jessica sighed as she tried to reason with her contact once more. “Carson, I was trying to tell you that we didn’t think you did anything wrong.”

  “So why’d you arrest me? I wasn’t resisting arrest and I don’t have to talk to you.”

  Jessica waited a few moments before answering. She could tell him anything but what about Baltimore PD when they finally arrested her? And what about Andrew, who was beginning to look like he had no idea who he’d fallen in love with.

  “Carson,” Jessica said after pulling onto the Interstate. “I need your help getting justice for a good friend of mine. And her little boy wants to live in peace. That something you’d be willing to help with?”

  Jessica resisted a smile as Carson struggled to sit up in the backseat. Already, the addict was showing signs of a man who for so long desperately wanted a second chance and now realized one was being handed to him.

  “What do you need from me?” he asked.

  “Earlier I asked you about a friend. Patrick Brenner?”

  “Yeah, what about him?”

  “Have you spoken with him?”

  “Not since he got out. I heard he was having problems, you know, with his baby’s mother or something.”

  “Well, his baby’s mother is dead. And we think he might have killed her.”

  “Oh, I see.” Carson nodded and looked out the window. Jessica could see the expression on his face now, the guilt of knowing he’d befriended a man who very well may have betrayed him, and the fear of knowing that Patrick could return and silence him simply because he knew too much. Jessica seized the moment.

  “You’re a liability for him now, Carson. Whatever you know about Patrick, where he’s gone, what his plans are, he’s not gonna let you just hang around and tell the story. He already killed Irene, what makes you think he won’t come after you?”

  She deliberately avoided mentioning that she had yet to obtain proof that Patrick was indeed a killer, it was more or less one of those instincts that came with the job. Not to mention being a victim herself. Jessica knew a monster just by looking into his eyes and studying his rap sheet.

  Carson suddenly began grinning from ear-to-ear, a stark comparison from how he’d behaved since the back alley struggle. And why would he be happy about the fact that his life could be in danger?

  “Gotta be honest with you Jessica, nothing about this sounds legal.”

  No, everything about this is completely illegal, Jessica thought to herself. Briefly, she shut her eyes before continuing.

  “Buddy, if you help me, maybe I’ll make your next bid go a little smoother. You and I know there’s a good chance you’ll go back again. I can see it in your eyes.”

  Carson’s face twisted in mock humiliation. “I’m hurt Jessica, but why not? An old friend he did time with says he spends a lot of his free time sitting at home.”

  Jessica frowned. “You talking about the place where he and Irene lived? Nah, he doesn’t live there anymore, we already checked.”

  Carson’s smile vanished. “That’s all I know, I swear!”

  There was a part of Jessica that wanted to believe him. But there was always a chance that he knew more than what he had revealed. “Patrick was in addictions recovery. Where else would he go?”

 
“Uh, no family, no friends, I’ve got no clue where he’d go. Look, you’re the detective, why can’t you figure it out yourself?”

  His voice was increasing in volume and Jessica knew she had to release him. This had already gotten far enough out of hand. She cursed under her breath and took a right turn down the next ramp. She kept the steering wheel to the right as she made a long, winding hairpin turn. For a moment she wished she could enjoy the opportunity to drive a pickup truck for the first time. To this day, she still had fond memories of riding along in her grandfather’s truck to his doctor’s visits.

  The memory inspired her.

  “What about a doctor?” she asked Carson as she pulled the truck to the curb. “Any chance he was seeing a doctor? For any reason at all?”

  Carson’s eyes lit up once again. “Yeah, yeah, there was a time when they thought he was, I don’t know, mentally ill or something. So he saw this doctor to get some pills.”

  Jessica nodded slowly. Andrew finally spoke up from the passenger’s seat. “That mean something to you, baby?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said quietly. Then she frowned. “Andrew, I need you to get out so Carson can. It was hard enough stuffing him back there.”

  Jessica could only wonder how many people had seen the video of her doing that. Somewhere in the distance, the sound of rapidly approaching sirens split the air. She was beginning to get a bad feeling about this.

  Andrew finished helping Carson out of the backseat and onto the sidewalk. The distressed ex-con’s eyes frantically searched his surroundings and for the first time Jessica realized she’d dropped him off in a drug-infested neighborhood. It was a horrible decision that would only contribute to his addiction. Another strike against her when she returned to the precinct—voluntarily, or against her will.

  “One last question,” she said, raising her hand from the front seat to drown out Carson’s groans. “How often did he see this doctor? How long, Carson?”

  Carson looked down at his feet. Jessica’s heart panged with guilt as she realized what she was doing to him. “I don’t know anything about that,” he said. Then before she had the chance to apologize, he took off running down the street. As he disappeared around a corner, Jessica heard a few young women giggling, then saying Carson’s name.

  “Guess he found another fix,” she mumbled as she shifted the truck back into drive.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Andrew asked.

  Jessica’s heart skipped a beat as she heard the tension in his voice. And then the stress from the last few days could no longer stay contained within her. She let it all out.

  “You know what, I don’t need you judging me right now Andrew. I’m risking my life, my career, my freedom to help someone you cared so much about. All because you have some stupid idea that we can actually be together.”

  Andrew’s eyes flared. “Stupid idea? Really? The woman I love so much was honest and forthcoming. If you thought this was a stupid idea I would have stayed back at that disgusting shack the feds threw me in.”

  “Maybe, you should just go back there,” Jessica said quietly. “I tried to tell you it was better for both of us.”

  Andrew glared at her from the passenger’s seat. Then his eyes softened, but not because he had returned to his pleasant, loveable self. Jessica noticed the pain in his eyes, the same betrayal she’d felt so often throughout her life. She had hurt him, and albeit, emotional, it was enough to get Andrew to make the decision that she hoped he’d never make.

  “Let me out up in that parking lot,” he said pointing to a convenience store roughly fifty yards in front of them. The sirens she’d heard before had stopped. Units had responded to the church incident. An investigation would be initiated. She’d be arrested. Maybe Andrew too. They needed to stick together.

  “Andrew baby, I’m sorry okay. Can we just—

  “As much as I love you, the stunts you’re pulling are gonna end up getting me killed around here. Besides, you said it was a stupid idea for us to be together and I kind of agree.”

  “Andrew.”

  “Let me out,” he repeated, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone. “Or I’ll call the police on you myself.”

  Now it was Jessica’s turn to feel hurt. But she knew she had brought the pain on herself. “Would you really do that Andrew? Now, after everything we’ve been through?”

  He opened the side door and stepped out into the street. A gust of cold wind slammed into her face through the open door. The tears she’d managed to keep inside her eyelids spilled onto her cheeks.

  She repeated the question, but with less force.

  “Do you really want me to answer your question, Jessica? Now, after everything we’ve been through?”

  She didn’t answer, which apparently gave Andrew the answer he was looking for. He shut the door and began walking away. He didn’t look back as he usually did to wink and blow her kisses. He kept walking. Ten feet. Thirty. Fifty. Then he was gone.

  “Now what?” Jessica said aloud.

  She wiped tears from her eyes and began driving again. Fear had never felt so real in her life. She could go to prison. Patrick could hunt her down and kill her. Andrew could get hurt, or worse, if word leaked that he’d escaped witness protection and was now back on the streets of Baltimore.

  Jessica tried to drown out the worries as she searched for a place to abandon the truck. She recalled the night she’d fallen deeply in love with Andrew, all the way on the other side of town in that cheap, hotel they’d booked to avoid detection. The night they’d discussed what it meant to take the initiative, before succumbing to an hour’s worth of pillow talk.

  She pulled into an alley where she knew there were no security cameras. Then she locked the door and walked away, tucking the keys into her back pocket. For now, the keys would be the only memory she needed of Andrew.

  If Patrick Brenner had visited a doctor for help, then she knew an old face who might be willing to help.

  Jessica reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Then she dialed Doctor Chapman’s number.

  Chapter Seven : Caught Red-Handed

  Later that evening, Jessica sat quietly in a white rental car and reflected on the events of the last few days. She longed for the days when life made sense, when choices were easier to make, and every move she made didn’t feel like it would lead to a disaster. One by one, the protective walls she’d built around her life had come crashing down, leaving her with no choice but to run and hide, or stay and fight.

  Running wouldn’t work. Hiding would only work for so long. And she couldn’t have the best of both worlds—capturing Irene’s killer and saving her career. If her days among Baltimore City’s elite were coming to an end, she wanted to at least leave on a good note, which meant finding Patrick Brenner by any means necessary, legal or otherwise. At the very least, an arrest would reduce the chances of the police, the federal government, or for all she knew the CIA, would be inclined to hunt her down as if she were some traitor.

  Yet every hour Jessica drifted further towards being a full-blown vigilante, she felt just like a traitor, a trained and respected homicide detective who betrayed the badge and oath she swore to protect for what—a sexy, hot flame who’d just walked out on her hours earlier?

  Maybe the harder it becomes to make the best choices, the easier it will be for me to make those choices, Jessica thought to herself as she sat in the vehicle. She shivered in the cold car and zipped her coat up until it pinched her chin. She longed for summer heat and beautiful sunshine, anything to take away the dull, cold heartache that gnawed away at her insides since the day she’d been reassigned to Homicide Division, after leaving the recently formed Domestic Violence Task Force. That was the day that Andrew had vanished with barely a good-bye.

  Jessica clenched the steering wheel and gritted her teeth. Over thinking, or whatever the therapists called it, would bring her to her demise. There was no better way of talking her way out of taking action than thinking of
hundreds of reasons why taking any form of action would do more harm than good. So she took a deep breath, shut her eyes and counted to three, then exited the vehicle.

  “So glad I didn’t call you first,” Jessica muttered as she hurried to the doctor’s office. It was true. Had she called, she would have learned that no matter how hard she tried, doctors wouldn’t give out confidential information about patients, not without a court order. More so, as Jessica herself had been declared sort of “unfit for duty” and referred to the doctor for a psychological evaluation from which she had run away. Thus, with no evidence linking Brenner to his wife’s murder, and her own credibility lost, a court order would never come anyway.

  Desperate times.

  Jessica tried to remain in the shadows as she considered the best way to break into the doctor’s office and steal information without getting caught. All she needed was an address and maybe some personal information that would give her a better idea of who she and Andrew were dealing with. She tried not to think about what she would do if she began finding more than she bargained, a real possibility considering Brenner was a narcissist and probably got his rocks off venting to female doctors.

  And of course there was still the risk of finding nothing at all. After all, there was no guarantee that Brenner had visited Chapman, or any other doctor who worked in that office. But he had lived nearby for so long and the neighbor she and Andrew had interviewed had already mentioned that Brenner frequented the area.

  With all other doors closed, this was the little opening she had to fall back upon. There was a risk. It was going to add up to the list of charges that could come up against her. But there was no time to think. Any moment the police would track her down and put an end to all her efforts to accomplish what was there in her mind. She must act. Now! She told herself.