by Carsen Taite
“When I was done, I stared at the gun in my hand, willing it to draw back the bullet with the same force it had expended to send the metal hurtling into my beloved’s face. Seconds seemed like hours as I stood still, contemplating the consequences of this final act. I raised the gun to my own temple and sorted through the reasons death would bring me peace. Like a rush of cold, my composure returned and I chose to survive. She would’ve wanted me to go on. I found a handkerchief in my pocket, and slowly and deliberately, I wiped the black casing of the weapon to a mighty shine.
“I was just finishing when I heard rough boots running up the stairs. I shoved the cloth in my pocket, tossed the gun on the floor, and ducked into the adjoining study. Peering through the slightly cracked door, I watched the dirty handyman burst into my beloved’s sanctuary, leaving spots of grass and dirt to mark his path. He stopped short at the sight of her lying in a massive pool of her own blood, but not short enough. His boots trailed the essence of her being everywhere he stepped. I watched him look at her face, perhaps searching for signs of breath. He even leaned close, barely touching. Seeing no indication of life, he backed away, his heavy boots catching on the gun lying behind him, sending it skittering across the wood plank floors. As if entranced, he followed its path and, joy of joys, picked up the shiny weapon and held it in his rough and grimy hands. I was barely able to conceal my glee. Tiptoeing to the hall, I charged into the room and surprised him, standing over her body.
“The handyman…what kind of name is ‘handyman’ for someone who does little bits of nothing? He turned at the sound of my entrance and read the accusation pouring from my eyes. His glance flicked down to the gun in his hand. Uneducated, yes, but he was not entirely lacking in common sense. He threw the gun to the ground and ran past me, his master, hurtling down the staircase. I pretended to pursue him, but I had more pressing matters to attend to.”
*
“So you destroyed the note and called the cops?” Parker spoke to break the trance his telling had evoked and she found the sound of her own voice jarring after the singsong revelations of the madman. She knew she shouldn’t push him if she wanted to buy time, but his cold-blooded account of his sister’s death left her repulsed and impatient.
“I protected my family, yes.” Not a shade of defensiveness in his tone.
“You protected yourself.” Parker assumed the most disgusted expression she could muster. It wasn’t hard under the circumstances. “How much did you have to pay the ME to cover your tracks?” Tired of the imbalance of the situation, she resolved to provoke him to anger. Anything to gain some advantage while she formed a plan. She was certain she could hear a quiet groan close by. Steeling herself for sure conflict, she resisted the urge to cut a glance through the doorway of the adjoining room. Skye, where are you?
“How long had you been raping your little sister, Teddy?”
“I’m tired of talking now. Drink your coffee and I’ll take you to see your friend.”
Parker glanced down at the mug in her hand. All she could see was the glass of poison this man had driven his only sibling to drink. Teddy’s hands were tucked under the table’s edge and his stillness was unsettling. She had no doubt he was armed and was equally certain he had no intention of letting her live to reveal his sordid tale. She knew she had only seconds to act. Parker noted the steam as it wafted from the coffee mug and it inspired her. She drew the cup of coffee to her lips but at the last moment she wrenched it away and threw the heavy ceramic mug and its scalding contents at Teddy’s head. He leapt from his seat, screaming in pain, as the liquid burned his eyes. Parker lunged across the table and knocked him to the floor with the entire weight of her body. She stepped on his wrist until he let loose his gun and she knocked it across the room. Fists whaling, she delivered the punishment she had wanted to administer since she caught him threatening Morgan weeks before. Unleashed, her rage drove her fists to strike him over and over again and she lost herself in revenge, for Morgan, for Camille, for countless other victims she had never been able to avenge.
A moan, louder now, broke her trance. Parker looked down at her own hands, bloody and broken, and shook her head as if to clear away the entire scene. Her mind cleared and she realized the sound wasn’t coming from the man beneath her. She concentrated her every effort to focus. Skye. I have to find Skye. Parker winced as she grasped the arm of a chair for balance and stumbled across the room, following the sounds of Skye’s pain.
Skye lay on the floor beside her bed. Her forehead was bleeding and her face was puffy from several well-landed blows. Her hands and legs were bound and it looked as though she had snaked her way out from under the bed before giving in to the pain of having been beaten. Parker bent to untie her and murmur words of comfort.
“Skye, baby. Look at me. You’re going to be okay.” Parker hurried to untie the cords wrapped tightly around Skye’s wrists and ankles. Skye, hands now free, motioned for Parker to lean in. Parker moved in close, but could still barely make out Skye’s labored words.
“I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“Camille. Poisoned. I knew.” Skye coughed and Parker motioned her to say no more. She didn’t want to hear anymore because she didn’t have the energy to absorb, let alone process, the revelation. Later. She would process things later. Right now, she knew she needed to call this in, but she needed to make sure Skye was okay first. Her face was almost unrecognizable. Once she freed Skye’s bonds, Parker lifted her onto the bed and walked over to the bedside phone. She lifted the handset and started punching the numbers to bring help. Before she could finish, she heard a loud bump against the door frame and looked up into the eyes of the psychopath she thought she had rendered harmless. Teddy Burke leaned heavily against the door, weak from his beating, but drawing strength from the large handgun he trained on Skye. His eyes were mere pinpricks seated in swollen sockets, but his voice was clear and loud.
“Put the fucking phone down or I will kill you both.”
Parker knew it was a lie. He planned to kill them both no matter what she did. She met his stare without waver, but she did not see him. Her mind was turned inward and all she saw was Morgan. All she could think of was how she would never be ever to tell Morgan she loved her beyond measure. She couldn’t help it. She let loose a mirthless laugh at the irony of the revelation that surfaced too late.
“You think this is funny?” Teddy’s hand shook as his rage consumed him.
Parker made a snap decision and she delivered her words on the run. “No, but I do think I’ll have the last laugh.” She was almost on him when the shot rang out.
*
“Hey, Morgan, what are you doing back down here?” Ford was hunched over his desk in his office. From the doorway it looked like he was hard at work reviewing a file, but a closer examination revealed he was poring over a crossword puzzle.
“I’m not good at waiting alone. My students seem to have scattered to the wind so I thought I would bother you for a while. Any word?” Morgan spent the morning paralyzed. She could fine-tune her opening argument, but not knowing if she was going to need it robbed her of motivation. She had no idea where Dex was, and Gerald was the last person she wanted to see. Yolanda had sent her an e-mail letting her know Parker had dropped her class. Her e-mail, though terse, conveyed Yolanda’s obvious anger at Morgan for letting her tryst with a student get so out of hand it affected the student’s coursework. Morgan didn’t blame Yolanda for being angry at her, but she had no idea how to resolve the situation. I suppose it doesn’t matter now. Parker seems to have found a resolution all on her own and she didn’t need or want my help. Morgan reached for the phone several times to call Parker, but hung up before dialing because she had no idea what she could say to bridge the gap that had formed between them.
“Let’s go downstairs and bother young Valerie. She’s bound to be all stressed out, and you’ll feel much better if you can add to it.”
“You know, I think you’re right.” She gra
bbed his hand and pulled him from his chair. “Let’s go.”
“Morgan.”
“Yes?”
“Are you okay?” Ford asked. “I mean, I’ve never seen you get this stressed out working on a case. Excited, yes, but stressed, no. And, I couldn’t help but notice you seem to have some sort of rift with Parker Casey.”
Morgan started to deliver quick words of reassurance to let Ford know everything was fine in her world, but as she looked into his caring eyes, she knew she couldn’t lie even if she couldn’t bring herself to tell all. “I’m sure you’re not the only one who noticed the ‘rift’ with Parker. There is something else going on, but I’m not ready to talk about it. Can we leave it at that?”
Ford locked arms with her and gave her a solid hug. “Of course we can. You know where to find me if you need to talk. Now, come on, let’s go have some fun.”
Ford and Morgan found Valerie Gibson hunched over her desk in the DA workroom, but she wasn’t working on crossword puzzles, she was furiously examining her case file. Seated in a chair nearby was Detective Peterson, Skye’s partner. He was nursing a cup of coffee but otherwise looked like he hadn’t a care in the world. Morgan slide into the chair closest to Gibson’s desk.
“Any news?”
Gibson growled her answer. “Not yet.”
Morgan nodded at Peterson. “He seems to be hard at work looking for the suspect.”
Peterson came out of his seat. “Look, lady, I’ve been out all night looking for Burke, and I’ll likely be doing the same the rest of the day—all because of your stupid theories. Your client shot Camille Burke in the fucking face and no dirt you kick up suggests otherwise.”
Gibson’s hard stare forced the detective back into his chair, but it was obvious she felt the same way. Speaking to Morgan, she asked, “Is there some reason you stopped by?” Her tone was dismissive.
“Nothing specific. We’re merely checking in, but I can see you have a lot to do so we’ll leave you to it.” Morgan rose and started to the door with Ford close behind. The ringing of a cell phone caused them both to pause and everyone in the room looked at their phones. Detective Peterson flipped his open. Morgan continued on toward the door, but she couldn’t help but hear his side of the exchange.
“Peterson. What?…Yeah, that’s Keaton’s house…What hospital?…I’m on my way.” Slamming his phone shut, Peterson started toward the door, tossing words at Gibson as he moved. “There’s been a shooting at Skye’s house. Two females are being transported to the ER at Memorial. I’ll call you when I know more.”
Morgan froze. Two females. She knew in her core Parker was one of them and she raced after the detective who was practically running down the hall. “Detective?”
He glanced back, but didn’t slow his pace. “What?”
She cut to the question she needed answered the most. “How badly are they hurt?”
He shook his head and continued running.
*
Morgan jumped from Ford’s still moving pickup and ran to the doors of the ER while he went to find a place to park. On the drive over, Ford had contacted one of his police buddies and learned Teddy Burke had been arrested and Skye Keaton, along with another female, had been taken to Memorial with unspecified injuries. Morgan had just enough information to fuel an overactive imagination. Morgan had no idea how she was going to get more information from the nurses than she’d gotten from the detective, but she formed the beginning of a plan during the lightning drive across town. Rushing to the ER gatekeeper, she flashed her bar card.
“I came directly from the courthouse. I understand the detective on my case is being seen here.” She hoped her authoritative tone would buy her entrance. “I’m meeting Detective Peterson here.” All of her statements were true. The harried desk clerk pushed the button opening the automatic doors and waved her through. “She’s in two C, on your right.”
As Morgan walked through, she took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever might greet her on the other side of the doors. She spied Peterson talking to a nurse in the hall and ducked past, her target straight ahead. She read the number on the door: 2C. Taking a deep breath, she pushed her way into the room.
*
Parker refused to leave Skye’s side. She knew her own body well enough to know she wasn’t hurt badly, but Skye was a different story. Teddy made full use of the time before Parker arrived at Skye’s house to administer a thorough beating and Parker was certain he had broken bones, at least in Skye’s face.
“Parker.” Skye’s voice was faint.
“Don’t try to talk. They are waiting on the x-rays and then you’ll see a doctor. They’ll fix you right up.”
“We need to talk.” Skye grabbed and held Parker’s hand, willing her to listen to the words she forced from swollen lips. “Camille.”
“Skye, you already told me. Let it rest. We’ll talk about it later.”
“You saved my life. I owe you the truth.” Skye took a deep breath. “Crime scene techs recovered a glass from Camille’s desk. The lab report showed it was loaded with strychnine. I got rid of it. ME was too lazy to do a tox screen and without the lab report, he didn’t have a reason to. I thought I was doing the right thing. Didn’t want it to mess up the conviction. I mean, Luis did shoot her even if the bullet wasn’t what killed her.”
Parker knew any guilt Skye was feeling now about her part in hiding the fact Camille Burke had been poisoned would skyrocket the moment she found out Teddy Burke, not Luis Chavez, had been the one who shot his dear sister in the face. Skye measured her worth by her ability to ferret out the truth. She knew Skye well enough to know the revelation would crush her self-confidence. Perhaps because she had her own beliefs shattered, Parker found herself wanting to protect her from the disillusionment of learning that no matter how hard you tried to get at the truth, you were limited by your inability to be omniscient. Having received a crippling dose of the same disillusionment herself, she wished its effects on no one else. Parker knew Skye’s brush with death would mark an indelible change in her attitude about truth gathering. Skye had played fast and loose with the facts for the last time. Empathy drove Parker to lean in and speak gently in Skye’s ear, delivering the words she knew Skye needed to hear. “I forgive you.”
A sound at the door caused Parker to glance back. She expected to see either the nurse or doctor come to deliver news about the results of Skye’s x-rays. Instead she saw the last person she expected to see in this place. Morgan Bradley was stunning even when she was wild-eyed and harried. Her hair looked as though she had been running her hands through it and her suit was in disarray. Parker was so absorbed by the intense craving she felt for Morgan, it took her a moment to realize Morgan seemed paralyzed. She stood transfixed, her hand still on the door, her eyes riveted on something in the room. Parker followed her stare and realized Morgan’s sight was trained on her hand, firmly clasping Skye’s. She was aware she was still leaning close to Skye and her face was mere inches from Skye’s ear. She jerked upright, but not before Morgan turned as if to leave.
“Morgan, wait.” Parker started toward the door.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in. I wanted to make sure you were all right.” Morgan refused to meet Parker’s eyes though she remained rooted in place.
“I am.”
“I heard there was a shooting. I was…I didn’t know…” Morgan couldn’t manage to speak her fears out loud.
Parker grabbed her hands and ducked to meet Morgan’s gaze. “Teddy Burke is a bad shot. At least when he’s shooting at the living.”
Morgan shook her head. She didn’t have the capacity at this moment to process anything other than the fact Parker was alive. The terror she felt the entire drive over washed away at the sight of Parker here and whole, leaving her feeling empty and out of place. Parker wasn’t alone and she seemed fine, at least fine enough to hold and comfort Skye. Morgan felt her presence was superfluous and she started to walk away.
Parker slid her
arm around Morgan’s waist and moved her into the hall. Spying a storage closet, she steered them into the cramped space. “Morgan. Look at me. Please.” Morgan’s resistance collapsed against the strength of Parker’s embrace. She turned her head and met a look from eyes so full of longing she shook from the impact. She started to speak, but Parker placed a finger across her lips and delivered words of her own.
“I love you.” Parker had started to say more, but once those words left her mouth she knew no more were necessary.
Morgan pulled her closer and held her tight. Her words displayed an uncertainty her body did not possess. “Why are you telling me this?”
Parker’s smile was slow and easy. “Because it’s true and life’s too short to be scared to embrace the truth when you discover it.”
Morgan looked at her and noticed for the first time, the gash on her head and her bloody and bruised hands. Shots fired. She could have lost Parker to the bullet of a psychopath before she ever had a chance to admit her own feelings. Standing here, in her arms, she couldn’t bring herself to care about all the things she once deemed so important: job, boundaries, propriety. All she cared about was the pulsing desire, the unwavering affection, and the limitless adoration she felt for the strong, sexy Parker who had softly spoken words of promise she deserved to hear spoken in return. “Parker, I love you too. I want to find a way past the obstacles. Can you be patient with me?”
“No.” Parker let her response register before she continued. “Like I said, life’s too short. I quit your class. In fact, I have enough hours to graduate without it at the end of this semester and that is precisely what I’m going to do. This case is over. All your obstacles are gone. Be with me. If you say no to me now, your reasons are all your own.”
Morgan registered Parker’s gently worded ultimatum and knew she had this one opportunity to accept or reject Parker’s offer of love, life, happiness. Control, mastered through years of work, was the one thing standing between her and promises offered. Even as she had the thought, she realized the extent to which her desire to be in control blocked her path to happiness. If she loved Parker, truly loved her, she should be able to shout it from the rooftops, let alone profess her feelings in front of one other person. And she did love Parker. She’d loved her from the very first time they stood in the alley and Parker provided what she wanted, what she needed, without a second thought. She had loved her since the day Parker introduced herself in class. And she couldn’t have loved her more than the day she listened to the tale of hurt and betrayal this formidable hero faced from the ones she trusted the most. Morgan reached her arms around Parker’s neck and pulled her in. She spoke the words she knew Parker needed to hear, words she meant with all her heart, words she had spoken to no other, words she wanted the whole world to hear.