Scorned

by Andrew Hess

“You should probably go home. You’ve been here since yesterday.”

  He let out a big yawn and stretched his arms. “What time is it?”

  “Just after eleven. You should go home and get some sleep.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He stood up and moved to tuck in his shirt. He caught me staring at him. “Take a picture Detective; it’ll last longer.”

  I averted my eyes. “Sorry, you just look, well better with the shirt untucked. I mean you look less like a pompous jackass.”

  “There’s the smart mouth I can’t go a day without.” He caught me glancing at him from the corner of my eyes. He untucked the rest of his shirt and let it fall down around his waist. “Better?”

  I turned to him. I don’t know if it was me trying to rebound from my heart breaking or if something else came over me. I bit my lip and for a brief moment I replayed the times he kissed me over again in my head. Images of me ripping his wrinkled blue striped shirt open and running my hands down his chest filled my mind.

  “Everything okay,” Thornton asked.

  I hid my face trying not to blush. “Yeah, I’m fine. I-I’ll see you tomorrow Detective Thornton.” I don’t know why I used his official title. Maybe it was a defense mechanism, or just another way to keep him at bay.

  He advanced on me. “Ali, can you stop with the formalities?” His fingers tucked under my chin. “Please, just call me James.”

  I was melting at his touch. Damn, was I that hard up for affection that all he had to do was touch a finger to my chin to have me begging for more.

  I nodded curtly. “It’s definitely an improvement.” I turned my attention back to the monitors. “You should go home and get some rest. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be another long day.”

  He opened the door and waited, as if he expected me to follow him out to the parking lot. “You’re staying here?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Don’t you think you should take your own advice?”

  “Nope.” I continued watching the video trying my best to ignore James as he tried to convince me to go home.

  “Come on Ali; you can’t stay here all night. You should go home.”

  “Why? There’s nothing there for me.” Detective Thornton stared at me with a perplexed look on his face. I rolled my eyes at him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but my boyfriend and I broke up last night.”

  “Is that why you’ve been such a joy to be around today?” He let out a brief chuckle before wiping the smile from his face. “Sorry, did you wanna talk about it?”

  “There’s not much to talk about. We were together for about a year. He hated me being a cop and told me he hated coming in second to the job. Finally he got too pissed off and decided he wanted me to quit the force.”

  James turned bright red. “You told him to go to hell; right?”

  “Not in those exact words. But I told him it was non-negotiable.”

  He came closer and took my hand. “I’m sorry you’re going through this, but you did the right thing. You were born to be a cop.”

  I slid my hand out of his grasp. I sat upright and rigid in the chair. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

  “Fine, but I’m not going to let you burry yourself in this crap to avoid your problems.” He reached over and turned off the video equipment.

  “What are you gonna do, babysit me all night?”

  “If I need to.” He began disconnecting the wires while I tried to quickly reconnect them. “You want me to go home and rest up, than you have to do the same.” He stood with his arms folded.

  “Fine,” I growled while packing up my things. I forcefully shoved my heels back on my feet while giving him the evil eye and stormed out of the video room. I could hear Detective Thornton’s feet slapping against the pavement to keep up in the parking lot, but I wasn’t in the mood to continue our little verbal sparring. I ducked inside my car and sped off before he could say another word.

  I refused to go home. Part of it was to completely defy my partner’s demand. No one controlled me or what I did. I was determined to prove that, at least that’s what I was telling myself. In reality, I just didn’t want to sleep another night alone in that bed or in that house. When I peeled out of the parking lot, I decided to head for the one place that was still mine, a place that I frequented many times, especially if I needed to forget about life for a while.

  I parked on one of the side streets and locked my shield and glock in the glove compartment. The block long walk culminated in an uphill climb. The heels on my shoes dug into my feet the entire way, but after a few shots, none of that would matter. The green awning of my favorite bar/restaurant welcomed me as I stood on the corner of Main Street. A small line of girls that barely looked like they were twenty-one, stood outside hoping the bouncer would let them in.

  I approached the line and overheard the girls asking if they really thought chalking the ID would work. I bypassed the girls and walked up to the large black man that blocked the entrance. “Hey Davis, you might wanna double check those girls’ IDs when they come up here. Someone’s talking about chalking theirs.”

  “Thanks Ali,” the bouncer replied. Davis was a sweet guy and worked at P&G for years. I used to talk to him all the time when I frequented the place in my single days. So it came as no surprise that I’d run into him the first time I went out after my break-up. I stepped up to the door and paid the fee to get in. The group of girls approached seconds later. I could hear Davis grilling the girls about their IDs and flat out denied one of them entry. He glanced back at me with a look of satisfaction. I nodded and entered the bar.

  Swirling neon lights cut through the darkness with ease as the crowds of people blended into the shadows. Even as a cop, I couldn’t tell one person from another. It was no wonder why the cameras couldn’t capture a clear image of our suspect’s face. Shit, even when I tried to relax and drink my problems away, I still had work on the brain. What the hell is wrong with me?

  I grabbed one of the few empty stools and pulled it up to the bar. The guy behind the counter grinned at the sight of me. I didn’t know him, but his eyes said he recognized me. He held up one finger to signal he would be over in a minute while he used his other hand to pour the contents of a shaker into three shot glasses.

  He slid over to me moments later with a dish towel tucked in his hand. “Hey there; what’ll it be?”

  “Three shots of tequila and a beer.”

  The bartender raised his eyebrow as he measured out the tequila into the metal cylinder. “So where ya friends?” He took three shot glasses and lined them up in a row. The shaker’s contents spilled into the warm glasses.

  “Fuck that; these are mine.” I took the first shot and knocked it back. The liquid burned my throat as I swallowed it. The second was almost as bad as the first. I felt nothing by the third one. I grabbed the bottle of beer and slurped it down.

  I spent the next hour switching between shots and drinking a beer. I figured the combination of the two would either make me really drunk or really sick. Either way, I wouldn’t be thinking about Matthew. Regardless, I was free and having fun for the first time in months. Ali the Wildcat was making her return and was about to have the night of my life.

  The music changed. The DJ had the beat pumping loudly through the speakers playing techno beats mixed with some of the more popular songs that were way over played on the radio. I couldn’t help but hit the dance floor. I swayed from side to side keeping up with the beat. It was fast paced. It was intense. It was…

  “Ali, what the hell are you doing?” I turned around to see who was shouting my name. I stumbled right into the man’s body. I looked up and found Detective James Thornton staring back at me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Trying to stop you from making a big mistake.” I tried to dance away from him, but his hands wrapped around my waist.

  I was brought closer to him, close enough to get a whiff of his man scent. “I�
�m having fun. You can either have fun with me or you can get lost.” I turned to walk away, but his hand caught my wrist. I spun on my heel, returning with an open hand to slap him. But he was too quick for me. He blocked me and pinned my arms to my sides. Thrill raked my insides. Forgetting for one moment who he was and what I was doing, I lunged forward planting a kiss on his lips. His grip loosened and dropped my hands. He moved to embrace me, but I had something better in mind. My fingers grabbed a hold of his shirt for support as I drove my knee into his groin.

  “Don’t ever touch me or kiss me again,” I spat. But James wouldn’t be denied. He crawled to his feet and threw and arm around my waist. I fought and clawed his hands. Then I felt something snap around one wrist. My arm was yanked back, then the other. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Arresting you,” he laughed.

  “You can’t be serious right now.”

  “Ali Ryan, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, you will be appointed one.”

  “What the hell are you charging me with?” By now the crowd started turning their attention to us.

  “For starters, you assaulted a police officer.”

  “You put your hands on me first.”

  “Only to stop you from doing something you’d regret. Now, are you coming with me or do we need to continue this little game?”

  “Fuck you! Get your stupid cuffs off me.”

  “The hard way it is.” He scooped me into his arms and draped me over his shoulder while pushing his way out of bar. Davis tried to stop him, but Thornton already had his badge out and shoved it in his face. He continued down the street to his car and directed me into the passenger seat with my arms pinned behind my back.

  Knowing I was helpless and at the mercy of my arresting officer, I stopped struggling and calmed myself. “Can you at least drive with the top down?”

  He smiled and revved the engine. The roof slowly cranked revealing the night sky. “Better?”

  I rested my head on the chair and closed my eyes. “Yes, now take me to bed.” A chuckle escaped me. “I mean take me home.”

  James obliged and sped out of New Paltz. The wind whipped through my hair and made me feel like I was flying.

  Chapter 27-Claire

  Claire slowly came to the next morning, waking in her own bed. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember how she got there. The last thing she remembered, she was at the restaurant and hurried to the bathroom thinking she had been drugged again. Claire ripped the covers off her body. Her hands patted herself down, noting she was still wearing the same clothes she wore the night before. Claire jumped out of the bed, wondering if she had taken home DeMarco or another man while she was under the influence. A sigh of relief escaped her mouth when she turned to find no one there.

  Claire sat back down on the bed, resting her chin in her cupped hands. Her eyes wandered the floor, seeing her cherry silk robe and matching fuzzy slippers propped up against the wall in front of her.

  “How did these get out?” Claire was meticulous when it came to cleaning and putting everything away. The fact that her slippers and robe were left out creeped her out, but didn’t shrug off the notion she did it in the midst of passing out. The question still lingered on her mind. How did I get back here?

  The sound of a door closing alerted her that someone either just walked in or left her house. “Hello, is someone there?” There was nothing but silence in reply. The paranoia she typically hid from all her friends and co-workers came bubbling to the surface. She ran from the room expecting to find a stranger standing in her living room checking out her stuff. Her feet came to a stumbling halt, finding the house empty. Her mind went back to the sound of a closing door and decided to check it. If someone was there, the door would still be unlocked. Claire hurried to the front door and checked the handle. It was locked. “How can that be? I know I heard it.” The next areas to investigate were the windows, but there was nothing wrong there either. In fact, there was no apparent forced entry, nothing broken, and nothing knocked over. Everything seemed to be perfectly set in its place just the way Claire left it.

  Claire gave a deep sigh and threw herself on the couch. “What the hell happened last night?” Her answer sat right in front of her in a manila envelope on the coffee table. Eager to know what was inside, Claire yanked the envelope and thumbed through its contents. The first page was a letter addressed to her.

  Dearest Claire,

  I’m sure by now you are wondering what happened and how you got home last night. The bigger question weighing on your mind now is who am I and how did I get into your house. Let me start from the beginning. We may have run into each other last night, but we’ve been acquainted for several months. In fact we met the night you attended your first meeting.

  Claire racked her brain trying to remember anyone she met that night. Her first meeting wasn’t too long after her attack and tried to avoid talking or interacting with anyone that wasn’t a friend, a family member or a co-worker.

  I know everything you’ve gone through these last six months. I know what happened to you, and I know who did it.

  What? How did this guy, whoever it was, know about something I only shared with one other person? Her eyes were glued to the paper.

  I have kept my distance for many months knowing you chose to put what happened to you in the past. I respected your decision until I learned of your attack on Blake Ambrose.

  Oh my god, how does he know about that?

  To say how proud I was of you would be an understatement. You were taking control for the first time in your life. The men you killed had a history of drugging women to get what they wanted. Last night you were about to make the same mistake you made over six months ago. I saw the path you chose to go down and tried to help you. I thought you would use the care package I sent you, but you opted not to use any of it to defend yourself against Dr. DeMarco.

  Was he saying what I thought he was saying? Claire shook her head trying to dispel the notion.

  A woman found you in the bathroom last night. Lucky for you, I was there to help. You could barely stand and was losing consciousness fast. I knew what that scum DeMarco did to you and what he wanted to do to you. I wasn’t going to let that happen again. So I intervened on your behalf and escorted you from the restaurant. Once you were safe, I took you home and tucked you in for the night.

  Claire didn’t know if she should be completely creeped out or feel thankful that this mystery man came to her rescue.

  Everything in this envelope will tell you all you need to know about Dr. Ron DeMarco. Look everything over before making any decision. I will be in touch.

  Claire flipped the page around but didn’t see a name or anything to let her know who left the note for her. She searched the small packet finding newspaper clippings, articles and pictures. One of which was an article dated earlier in the year. There was an attack on the White House by a group of vigilantes. Many federal agents were injured, very few died. Ron DeMarco was one of the doctors brought in to help the wounded. In a picture time stamped for four thirty, the day of the attack, Ron DeMarco was caught taking money from a man in a suit outside the hospital. Another picture saw him assisting the same man in loading someone into a white van.

  “Why the hell should I care about this?” Claire flipped to the back of the pictures and saw someone had written one word on the back.

  Phoenix

  Claire didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, nor did she really care. It was something that didn’t really show Dr. DeMarco doing anything wrong, at least not that she could see. She pushed the first set of photos aside and continued to the second set. The pictures were of her at a club. The picture didn’t show much due to how dark the bar was. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Claire checked the next picture. It looked almost the same as the first, but was zoomed in more. This time she could see a man’s fac
e in the background, but was still too difficult and far away for her to make out any distinguishable features. The final photo in the set was zoomed in even more. Claire’s face was now barely in the frame, but the man in the background was in clear view. She gasped as she recognized the man as her new boss, Ron DeMarco.

  Claire had the proof she needed to confirm DeMarco was there that night. She believed he was there with the frat pack and had hit on her at the bar. Claire’s hands balled up into fists at the thought of what she went through that night and what her boss has put her through since he made his triumphant return to her life. She remembered what he said last night. I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you. She thought he meant when he saw her at the hospital or at some conference or someplace random. She didn’t think want to believe he was the one that stole her innocence, her confidence and her life.

  Tears trickled down her face, but she wasn’t sad. Claire’s emotions were running too high. Anger consumed her mind, causing her to almost snap. She tried to put the envelope down on the coffee table, but felt something moving inside. She held out the palm of her hand and shook the envelope. A small square with a plastic see through cover slid out and into her grasp. Her heart started racing at the thought of what was on the disc.

  “This is it; no turning back.”

  She opened the case and popped the disc into her DVD player. The video was spliced together to show the important parts. In the first few moments, the screen showed Claire enter the bar with the time stamp of ten thirty. The next frame showed Ron DeMarco enter around ten forty-five. It seemed like a chance encounter; nothing out of the ordinary.

  The video cut to later on in the night. Claire was dancing with a drink in her hand. In the background was Ron talking to a few guys at the bar. It quickly changed to the pair at the bar talking.

  Claire flashed back to the night. She remembered going to the bar and some guy in khaki pants and a dress shirt tried picking her up and offered to buy her a drink. Claire accepted the drink, talked to the man for a few minutes before turning him down. She had ordered another drink while her other sat on the bar with a shot left. The bartender pushed the fresh drink towards her and she downed the remnants of the previous one.