by Eli Constant
“Yes, yes.” Allen mutters, swiping his hand across his face and removing the glistening sweat that’s beaded along his brow. “I’m sure you’re right.”
I pull out my phone and feign surprise when I see the time. “Oh, Allen, I’m so sorry. I need to run. I’m supposed to meet someone across town.” I push my phone back into my jacket pocket and smile. “Thank you again for having breakfast with me. Are you still staying in town?”
“No, not anymore. Darnell has temporarily moved in with me, taking pity on an old man. He thinks it’s good that I get back to some sort of normal routine. He even makes dinner for me.” Allen laughs, but it’s a small weak sound. “He and Timothy would have been so happy together.”
“I’m sure they would have Allen.” I stand up and so does he. And we hug. We hug like two people who know the horrors of the world and the importance of human contact. Even though, to be totally fair, I’m not completely human.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I head straight to the police station from the coffee shop. And I hope that Terrance is there. It’s Saturday though and I know he tries to spend Saturdays with his wife and kids. As well he should. Because people should have a life outside of crime and death and blood.
People who aren’t me, that is.
“Sorry, the Chief’s not in today and we don’t expect him.” It’s Andrea sitting behind the front desk of the station. And I, in so many words, can’t stand the woman. I’d have even preferred one of the new hire, relative strangers. Andrea’s voice is princess-y sharp, her eyes are vacant and blue, and she just rubs me the wrong way. Every. Single. Time.
“Look, Andrea,” I try to sound as nice as possible, “I’m helping the Chief out on an open case and I have full access. Can I get back there or can you go back there,” I point to Terrance’s office, “and find me any folders or papers that might pertain to a Doctor Sherwin.”
“Um… no.” She says it in a ‘duh’ sort of way that makes me want to pull her hair out by the pretty blonde tips that don’t match the dark, muddy brown roots.
I close my eyes for a second, take a deep breath, and try to stay ‘zen’. That works for about three seconds. “Andrea, I don’t have time for your little games. You sit behind the desk at a police station, whoop-de-freaking-doo. You are not the President of the United States. So get me what I need, now.” I really didn’t want to have to call Terrance. He was enjoying a day with his family, a well-deserved day, but this bitch was about to not give me a choice.
She stands and I know instantly that I’ve blown this. Her mouth is pressed in a hard line and her eyes look murderous. “You will not talk to me like that. You might be on file as a consultant with the department, but you do not work here and you will not look at any damn files unless the Chief, to my face, tells me that you’re allowed to.”
Fuck, I mentally curse, mad at myself for losing my temper. Andrea is definitely one of those ‘catch more flies with honey’ sort of people and I had definitely not poured out any sweet stuff this interaction. “Andrea, please,” I hate how I almost sound like I’m whining or pleading, “please let me see those files.”
“No.” I see her right leg flinch and I wonder if she’s just stopped herself from stamping her foot in protest. I really, really hate this woman.
The bell attached to the top of the station door rings shrilly and I turn around to see Mei walking in with a huge bag of take out. From what I can see, Andrea’s the only one at the station right now.
“Hey, Mei!” My mood brightens instantly and she breaks out into a grin.
“Hey, Tori.” She walks up to the reception desk, struggling with the bag that’s nearly as big as she is, and she lifts it to land with a heavy flop onto the glossy surface of the counter. “That’ll be forty dollars and thirty-eight cents, Andrea.”
Andrea smiles. “Sure thing, let me go back and get the cash.”
Gee, it’s nice to know that Andrea can be nice to someone. Of course, Mei is about the easiest person to get along with that every lived.
I turn to Mei when Andrea’s out of sight and I nearly leap into her arms for a hug. Of course, I don’t. There’s no way on earth her petite body could support mine. “Where have you been all my life,” I groan into her ear.
“Um, literally right here.” She laughs, hugging me back. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been around for every important event in your life, Tori. Are you okay?”
“Just a shit day and I,” I push away from her body and flick a thumb in the direction of where Andrea’s gone, “absolutely cannot stand that woman.”
“Oh, Andrea’s not that bad. She’s got a little chip on her shoulders sometimes, but you just have to know how to talk to her.” She gives me a ‘knowing’ look and then speaks again, “And, I’d bet good money, that you don’t always talk to her nicely.”
“Hey, that’s not fair. I always try to be nice.” I grimace, contorting my mouth in a way that feels odd. “Most of the time.”
“Right, sure you do.”
“Well, it’s her fault this time. I just needed to see some files, files that it’s more than okay for me to see because I’m helping Terrance with the case, but will she let me see them. No.” I drag out the ‘no’ until it’s passed just into ‘comedy’ land.
“Have you ever thought that maybe Andrea’s doing her job? That it’s really not okay for her to let a civilian look through open case files?”
“But I’m helping Terrance out—”
She raises a hand, “Yes, you’re helping Terrance out on a case. I get it. But if he hasn’t made it expressly clear that you have full access, then she is doing the only thing she can do. Her job.” Mei smiles, trying to soften the truth to me so I don’t get too pissed with her.
I groan and now I’m the one fighting the urge to stamp my foot. “Fine. I get your point.”
Andrea comes back then, cash in hand. “Here you go. The guys are going to be starving when they get back from the Moody’s farm. I swear, anytime we get a call from them, it’s always an hours-long affair just to find out that, no, the neighbors did not abscond with their chickens.”
Mei laughs. “You know, I had to deliver to them last week and Mr. Moody showed up at the front door wearing nothing. Absolutely naked. And let me tell you, that is not a sight I’ll soon forget.”
The two women grimace and I’m suddenly feeling very much like the third wheel. And I don’t like that. Not one bit.
“Yeah, they’re a super weird family.” As soon as I speak, trying to interject myself into the conversation, Andrea gives me a cold look and all the niceness drains out of her face.
“The Moodys have lived here for eight generations. They may be a little different, but when you have ‘actual weird’,” she looks me up and down pointedly, “as a comparison, then they look perfectly normal.”
My mouth drops open. What. A. Bitch.
“Well, that would be my cue to leave. I’m sure the orders are piling up and I need my college pocket money.” Mei turns to me. “Hey, are we still on for next week? Dean and I are excited to double with you and Kyle.”
Andrea looks from me to Mei, surprise in her eyes. I’d think it would be pretty common knowledge by now that Mei and I have been palling around lately, and even knew one another in high school. I mean, gossip doesn’t sleep in this town. Of course, I have no idea what Mei’s talking about. We’ve set up no such double date thing, but then I realize what she’s doing—she’s passive aggressively siding herself with me so that Andrea understands where her loyalty lies. I compose myself and respond, carrying forward the ruse.
“Sure, I’m looking forward to it and so is Kyle.”
“You don’t mean Kyle, Jim’s son, do you?” The surprise in Andrea’s voice matches the surprise on her face at learning that Mei and I are friends.
I look at her, wanting to bite her head off or say something equally as nasty as she had moments ago, but I don’t. Rising above and all that. I’m so good about that sort of thing (sur
e I am). “Yes, Jim’s son. He took over the bar.”
“Oh, I know,” she bites her lip and suddenly looks like a nervous teenager, “So… you two are dating?”
“Yes, have been for over six months now.”
“Oh, well, that’s nice.” Her voice was small now, with a salty edge.
I could tell that she didn’t think it was nice though. Andrea, little bitch front desk Andrea, had the hots for my beau. Well, if that’s not vindication, I don’t know what is.
“Well, thanks for your help, Andrea. I’ll be sure to tell Terrance how nice you were today.”
She stammers something behind me, but I walk out with Mei by my side—the best friend who, in one breath, could admonish me for not being kind to Andrea, but also take my side in the war of the worlds. Yeah, I’d take one of her over a whole gaggle of faux friends any day.
When we’re out in the cold air, snow falling once again from the sky above, Mei and I are almost run over by a bright white car with chrome detailing and vanity plates. Doc MS.
First, I yell at the driver and give them the finger. Second, I think that the owner must be some sort of IT person. Or writer. Or someone who would think ‘Doc MS’ instead of ‘MS-DOC’ would be clever in some sort of binary thought way.
And then it dawns on me. Finally, after being pissed and then debating who the idiot is that would have a vanity plate like that (because vanity plates are just dumb anyways), that Doc MS had nothing to do with computers.
Doc MS stood for Doctor Mitchell Sherwin.
When the white car is parked, I see it’s a Mercedes. The man who steps out is just this side of balding with hair that’s beginning to go grey. I feel that he’s older than he looks though. He’s had work done. I feel that he’s older than he looks though. He’s had work done. I feel that he’s older than he looks though. He’s had work done. He wears thick designer glasses and a coat that screams runway. There’s no passenger in the car with him. His wife isn’t here.
“Mei, wait here a second.”
“Tori, it’s freezing.”
“Just a second. I’ll be right back.”
I practically run over to the man who is nearing the station’s front door. “Excuse me, Doctor Sherwin?”
He turns slowly, his face giving nothing away. He smiles then, seeing me, but no, he’s not looking at me. He’s looking behind me. At Mei.
At the girl that more than fits the victims’ profiles.
“Doctor Sherwin?” I say his name again, drawing his attention to me.
His eyes are glazed-over when he finally focuses on my face. It’s as if he’s been in some sort of trance, and Mei was the initiator of the semi-fugue state.
“Yes, I’m Doctor Sherwin. Do I know you?” He fiddles with his hands, sliding one glove off and holding his naked fingers out to me for a hand shake. Seeing him take off the glove, it triggers something in my brain. Then, his fingers begin to go a pale blue from the cold. Blue hands.
Doctor’s gloves are blue, aren’t they? I can hear the plastic pop of the nurses and doctors in the hospital putting on their disposable gloves. Some had been purple… but most of them had been blue.
I don’t want to shake his hand, but I do. And I’m glad I do, because there is a bandage covering a small wound. And I can feel the blood.
I can feel the death in it, the murder floating about each and every cell within his body. He’s the killer. His house is where the God Stones took me and Mordecai. He is the killer. The hand shake does not last long enough for me to delve deeper into the truth within his blood. But I’m sure if it did, I would see the faces of the women he has killed. I would see Jane Doe and I would see Maggie. And I would see Timothy, whom he would call Amanda.
I would see them all. There is no doubt in my mind.
My blood power rages within me, a volcanic flow screaming for eruption. I could draw every drop of his crimson life force from his body through the tiny wound on his hand. I could spill him, across the ground, until he was thin and dry as a mummy.
Doctor Sherwin quirks an eyebrow, frowning. “Is everything all right, Miss?”
“Oh, yes, it’s fine. I’m sorry.” I nervously wipe my hand on my coat, trying to rub away the horror of his blood. “I just saw your car plates,” I point at his vehicle, “and wondered if you were Timothy Barrington’s stepfather? I’m friends with his boyfriend, Darnell.”
His frown deepens. “Darnell. Yes, I remember the name. Timothy brought him over to my house once. Awful experience that was. And yes, I was Timothy’s stepfather, although I really didn’t know him well at all. My wife, you see, couldn’t cope with his…” He pauses, searching for words that won’t sound insensitive, “choice of lifestyle. I spent most of his visits trying to keep her calm and then dealing with the emotional fallout afterwards.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I was thinking I might meet Mrs. Barrington at the funeral.”
“Mrs. Sherwin,” he corrects me, with only a hint of annoyance, “will not be attending any funeral.”
“That’s too bad,” I bite my lower lip, furiously thinking of something else to ask. Then it dawns on me. “Doctor Sherwin,” I stress ‘doctor’ this time, “you said you really didn’t know Timothy, but weren’t you helping him medically? He was considering several operations, wasn’t he?”
He looks distracted for a moment, and then his brow furrows. There’s heavy suspicion in his gaze now. “Yes, of course. But I would never reveal a person’s patient status to a relative stranger. And knowing someone as a patient and knowing them personally, are two entirely different things. Stepfather or not. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there are some papers here that need to be signed.”
“Papers?”
“Yes, yes.” He waves me off absentmindedly, “and I need to get them done now. Mrs. Sherwin needs to get away for a while. This whole mess has broken her fragile psyche I’m afraid. Have a good day, Miss…” He trails off, realizing I’ve never given my name.
“Cage,” I volunteer, not bothering to come up with something fake. Besides, if all went the way it should, this fucker was going to be seeing my face again. And I didn’t care if it was him in spirit form and me getting ready to cremate his foul body or if it was in life, with his wrists shackled and him facing life in prison.
“Good day, Miss Cage.” He turns his back to me, but not before glancing behind me once more at Mei, and disappears into the police station. I don’t like that he’s looking at her. I don’t like what he might be thinking. I wish Liam was around to read his mind.
Trust me when I say, Liam’s voice sounds in my head, that he’s thinking nothing good.
Fuck, Liam. What should I do? I can’t let him just waltz in and out of here and then run off with his wife for a ‘vacation’. He’s the murderer.
I can follow him. He won’t know I’m there.
What are you going to do, Liam? Hop a plane if he does? Sneak onto a cruise if he does? No, we’ve got to come up with a better plan, a plan that stops him from using his credentials and money to go off on a trip and leave his victims behind.
He still has one body he hasn’t disposed of. We can catch him in the act.
I think about this… is the fourth body still beneath his house? If she is, will he keep her there or will he get rid of the evidence before he leaves? We scare him, Liam. We give him no choice but to get rid of the evidence. We let him know that someone is onto him.
How?
Leave that to me.
“Seriously, Tori. I’m frozen.” Mei is rubbing her arms and stamping her feet trying to stay warm.
“Why didn’t you get in your car and turn the heat on?” I open her driver’s door for her and she slides into the seat, turning on the car and sighing as the air that blows through the vents hits her body. It’s not hot air, but it’s significantly warmer than the artic temps outside the little red car.
“Because you told me to wait.”
“I didn’t tell you that you had to stay in one place l
ike a statue.” I roll my eyes.
She sticks her tongue out at me, fiddling with the temperature dials until the air is on the highest setting for both heat and intensity. “Listen, how about that double date?”
“I thought that was a little white lie to get Andrea off my case?”
“I mean, yeah, it was, but wouldn’t it be fun?”
“It might be.”
“Well, good. It’s a date then. Let’s do next Friday.”
“Sure.” But only if this case is over and that piece of shit is behind bars. I look at the station, desperately wanting to go inside and give Doc Sherwin a piece of my mind.
As I’m waving Mei off in the little red hatchback the restaurant uses for deliveries, I glance at my black sedan. I wish I’d thought to ask Andrea, before we’d gotten in a pissing contest, if Terrance had done anything about my ‘missing’ Bronco yet. Even if he hadn’t though, it was time for me to man up and start looking for a new personal-use vehicle.
But, dammit, I just didn’t want to.
On the way home, I dial Kyle’s number. He answers on the first ring. “Hey, Tori.”
“I see you found your cell phone.”
He laughs, an abrupt sheepish sound. “Yeah, I found it. Buried in the pocket of my ripped jeans about a quarter mile from the bar. I must have changed as I was running. Jesus, if anyone saw me…”
“Kyle, I’m sure if someone saw you transforming into a gigantic bear, it would be all over town by now.”
“True.” He mumbles, then his voice gets stronger again. “Seriously though, Tori. We need to figure out a way for me to control this. There’s got to be some way I can feel the change coming on. Get somewhere private.”
“I’ll ask Liam about it.”
“When you’re arranging with him for lessons on how to control your own powers, right?”