A Well-Timed Death (Booker Shield Book 1)

by Karl Bourdiec

  ‘I feel a little more together now.’ Adam sat on the edge of the back seat of Rich’s car. His feet were planted firmly on the ground and his head seemed to be a little less in the clouds.

  ‘Okay.’ Rich said nodding. ‘I’ll take you to the station, you can get a little cleaned up. We’ll try the laces again.’ Now Rich was nodding at Booker.

  ‘Good, Sara, you’re still coming with us.’ Booker headed back to the car, Rob simply followed on. Sara looked at Adam and then back at Booker, or the back of Booker’s head she followed him, glancing once in a while back to her husband. Sometimes when they locked eyes she saw the man she married behind the grey pupils which were his eyes.

  23

  The car was cold, much colder than Rich’s. Sara thought to herself, also she wasn’t even sure she could feel the temperature when she was with Rich. Now her limbs tingled like waking up after sleeping on your arm, but this was her whole body.

  Sara sat silently in the back of the car, her hands between her thighs trying to get them warm. Rob and Booker chatted in the front of the car, she was unsure about what being their chat seemed to jump from topic to topic.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Sara asked rubbing her hand’s and breathing into them. She felt a little air escape into her hands, not a lot but enough to cheer herself up a little.

  ‘Back to IT Direct. That’s the last place you saw Bark, so, it’s the best place to start looking for him again. That’s just good solid logic.’ Explained Booker, he never turned his head to face her but instead tried to glance at Sara using the mirror which wasn’t facing the right way to get a good view.

  ‘Don’t call him Bark. It’s just not a good name.’ Sara cringed at the name, even when she met up with him, Sara would strictly call him Michael. She hated his surname and his strap beard.

  ‘What do I call him then?’ Asked Rob who couldn’t turn because he was driving.

  ‘Mike, Michael. Just not bark.’ Sara didn’t seem to be paying much attention, she was looking at her hand. Opening and shutting it, feeling the difference between then and now. Now she wasn’t holding Adam’s hand she could feel the cold air run across it. ‘How do these bands work?’ Sara asked, watching her hand turn and the band falling loosely around her wrist. ‘What’s with the light?’

  ‘When you were in that lab, they showed you two atoms.’ Explained Booker.

  ‘The dots on the screen?’ Sara asked.

  ‘Yeah, they were two tiny atoms in test tubes, Rockford was tangling them.’ Continued Booker.

  ‘Entangling.’ Rob corrected.

  ‘Yeah, well in your bracelet is one of those dots, in Adam’s is the other. I thought that was pretty obvious.’

  ‘Not really.’ Sara eyed up the bracelet, letting it hang from her wrist so the dot of light flashed at the bottom. ‘So, I have mine and Adam has his little dot, and these are the things that caused all this?’ Sara was baffled how a small thing she could never see with her bare eyes could cause such a stir.

  ‘No, he has your and you have his.’

  ‘But, they are in sync with our heartbeats.’ Stated Sara.

  ‘Yeah, it’s a little confusing isn’t it.’ Booker closed his eyes, he was starting to feel sick again. ‘That’s his atom, it’s in sync with you and you have to wear it, don’t ask any more questions, Rockford explained it much better than I can, talk to him when you can.’

  ‘If I don’t die.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Booker rolled around in his seat.

  They stood in the middle of the car park, all three of them, two guys and a girl watching a car as if it was about to move on its own across.

  ‘Are you sure this is his car?’ Booker asked, his arms crossed over his chest he watched the car without touching it, analysing each mark and curve the car had.

  ‘Of course, it’s his car. It’s the car I remember I think.’ Stated Sara.

  ‘You think?’ Asked Rob.

  ‘Well, I have a lot of Alan’s memories in my head still, it’s either Bark’s car or a client Alan worked with.’ Now she was calling him Bark too.

  ‘But you saw him, you saw him run out here, and run away?’ Probed Booker more.

  ‘Yeah.’ Sara nodded, she’d crossed her arms now, she didn’t know when, but she had.

  ‘Which way did he run?’ Asked Booker looking around to see what paths there were which led from the huge buildings which surrounded him, there were footpaths in each direction, adding the ways Bark could have run over the grass he could have gone in any direction.

  ‘I don’t know, I was dead.’

  ‘You saw him run, you know you did, even if you didn’t I have a feeling you saw Rich try and chase him, that’s just what Rich is like.’ Booker explained. ‘So which way did he go?’

  Sara seemed to search her memories, she closed her eyes for a second, but you could still see her eyes flick from left to right and back again through her eyelids. The little muscle twitches told you that much. ‘That way.’ She pointed towards a field, it was a huge grassy area where two roads ran aside.

  ‘Okay, more simple question, and I want a straight answer, no bull okay?’ Booker now watched in the direction of the field, taking in what information he needed from it. ‘Which way does he live. Now think very carefully because this could be a really big clue of where he was running too, and where he’ll be now.’

  Sara looked a little disappointed in herself for not thinking about this earlier. ‘The same way.’

  ‘Would you probably say those things may or may not be connected?’ Booker prodded her some more.

  ‘Yes, maybe.’ Sara shook, not because Booker was wrong but because of the way Booker had pulled the information out of her.

  ‘We’re going back to the car, aren’t we?’ Asked Rob.

  ‘Yes Rob, yes we are.’ Booker agreed

  There were doors slamming, three of them. Sara felt a little odd not having to drag the dead weight which was her ex-husband around with her anymore. There was a bit of silence as Booker checked his phone, it made a whooping noise and Booker’s eye fluttered around reading then put his phone away.

  ‘Adam’s starting to get some of his memories back.’ Said Booker with the most flat tone he could possibly muster.

  ‘That’s good, it is good isn’t it?’ Rob replied grabbing the wheel tightly.

  ‘Depends really, on how much he can recall.’

  ‘He won’t remember when he died if that’s what you mean.’ Sara spoke up, she was in the back of the car pretending to be in her own world but listening to every word.

  ‘I never said that.’ Booker yelled turning the interior mirror, so he could see Sara and yell at her better.

  ‘It’s what you mean, I don’t remember him dying so he won’t either. What he will remember is the minutes coming up to his death, how I betrayed him and slept with Bark. Fuck I mean Michael.’ Sara pulled in a deep breath through her nose, it felt amazing to be able to do that again. ‘He’ll remember what a terrible person I was, that I slept with someone else and he knew. That he went to confront him and then that’s that.’

  ‘Your marriage will be over.’ Rob sighed for her.

  ‘No, that’s when he died, he found out I was cheating on him and went to kick Michaels teeth in.’ Corrected Sara.

  ‘Oh.’ Said Rob starting up the car. ‘Where does he live? Michael that is.’ Sara told Rob the address, a small flat above a chip shop, and he was off.

  The three of them stood in much the same way they did around the car, this time they stood around a door. It was slightly ajar; the smallest crack had been left open where the door obviously had caught its self on the lock which hadn’t allowed it to shut properly.

  ‘Are we just going in?’ Rob asked looking at the thin gap between the door and the wall beyond it.

  ‘Why not?’ Insisted Booker, sort of looking at Sara.

  ‘I’m not going in.’ Sara looked distraught, not like she was crying or in pain, but fear obviously filled her.

&n
bsp; ‘I think you should do it. Rip of the plaster.’ Rob tried to be encouraging.

  ‘Like off the wall?’ Booker asked getting his words mixed.

  ‘No like the ones you put on cuts.’

  ‘Rip the bandage off?’ Sara suggested.

  ‘Bandages don’t get stuck.’ Corrected Rob.

  ‘I think you’re missing the point, just go in.’ Booker bounced into the conversation, trying to get it back on track.

  Sara reached for the door her hand trembling almost touching the handle another hand grabbed her by the wrist, it was attached to Rob’s wrist and therefore attached to Rob.

  ‘What are you going to say? He asked.

  ‘I know we're dating but now that you’ve killed me in a really roundabout way I think it might be over.’ Sara nodded as she spoke.

  ‘Sounds good to me.’ And Rob let go.

  24

  ‘Somethings wrong.’ Adam sat up in his chair, Rich thought it was odd how easy he’d slipped back into speaking after being almost mute all day. It was almost jarring to hear him speak with such confidence when Rich had only heard him speak like a babbling child so far.

  ‘It’s just you are getting your memories back.’ Rich commented, he slumped in a chair, they were back in the police station, the two of them had tried to sneak in but the young guy who worked the desk spotted them, he commented how well Adam was looking now. Adam had thanked him and told him how well he felt before being pulled back into a holding room. Now the two of them just sat waiting for Adam’s memories to regain. This was the best place for it to happen it seemed. Sometimes when a very painful memory came back, Adam would thrash around screaming. Everyone in the station seemed to just ignore the act as if it was a constant occurrence.

  ‘That’s not what I mean, I feel like something is very wrong, like off.’ Adam leant forward, he felt as if his skin was crawling.

  ‘Just chill, it’ll just be another wave of memories. It’s nothing to worry about, just relax. This is the safest place for you to be right now. Everything is bolted to the ground, you’ll be next if you don’t chill the fuck out.’ Now it didn’t feel like swearing at a child.

  ‘It’s not just a wave of memories.’ Adam yelled, he was angry but wasn’t sure why. Was it because he was dying, again. He would stop existing as soon as these old memories over rid the new ones. When they were finished Adam would die and Alan would be back, taken over by the man who once owned the body he now knew as his own. It was maddening. Or was he angry because Rich wouldn’t listen, something was wrong, and Adam didn’t know what but he felt it? It worried him, it pulled away from his core and made him want to vomit.

  ‘Do you want to go for walk?’ Rich thought that might clear some of the worries. The fear which seemed to be pulling at Adam was beginning to be too much for him, sometimes all people need to get is a is a little fresh air.

  ‘I think Sara is in trouble, we must go to her.’ Adam said with a monotone voice as if something had taken over him telling him what was right and wrong and what he must do to feel like a singular person again.

  ‘I’ll warm up the car and call Booker.’ Rich stood up and went to leave.

  ‘Thank you Rich.’ Adam nodded, Rich was oddly filled with the same pride that parent much feel when their child says their first word.

  25

  ‘Shit, before we go in, should we get vests?’ Rob asked he saw a bunch of police wearing vests in the station when he was last there.

  ‘Why?’ Asked Booker, moving around Sara so Rob got the full effect of Booker’s confused eyebrows. Rob hadn’t noticed how large and fluffy they were, like little black clouds with grey bits. Then Rob noticed that he thought a lot of things looked like clouds and sort of forgot about Booker’s confused face.

  ‘It safer?’ Asked Rob after a second or two of thinking about clouds.

  ‘If somebody wants you dead, no vest is going to stop them.’ Sighed Booker, he thought everybody knew shooting someone in the head was always the best way of killing them.

  ‘Speak for yourself.’ Said Sara, one of the few people who could vouch that at least two people she knew got shot in the chest and died, and she was sadly one of them.

  ‘Point taking.’ Agreed Booker.

  ‘So, vests?’ Sara asked.

  ‘We do not need vests. You don’t need a vest because you barely have a pulse, and that’s just a recent thing. Secondly, we are alive.’ Booker pointed a finger at himself and Rob. ‘And if Bark didn’t want us alive the chest would be the worse place for him to shoot us when we have fully functioning brains.’

  ‘You don’t have any bulletproof vests. Do you?’ Asked Rob, seeing through Booker like a glass pane.

  ‘No, I do not, but I don’t keep them in the car for that reason, and they are very expensive.’ Nodded Booker before pushing the door open with his left hand. ‘Now can we just go into this possible murderer’s house, so Sara can confront her killer and we can go back to my office for a nightcap.’ Oddly enough they listened, heading into the house in a single file.

  There was frantic scurrying up the steps, Michael lived in a second floor flat, he chose to claim that it would make is heating bills cheaper because “heat rises.” He’d quoted that to Sara on more than one occasion when she had complained that the living room was cold. You could hear him scurry from about halfway up the stairs, this is when Booker pulled on robs shirt to stop him, Rob had done the same to Sara.

  Sara hadn’t cheated with Michael because of any real solid reason, she sighted her fear that Alan was cheating on her as one of her excuses but that was more blame than anything, an argument which got her somewhat off the hook.

  One of the other reasons and arguably a more honest one was a boring life. Sara liked the cash and the freedom of being married to a semi-rich person who was confident he was just going to get richer, but one thing she never had was steadiness.

  Alan never sat on the sofa with her and watched shitty TV or bought ice cream, so they could snack on it while watching a movie.

  Alan bought proper things like flowers and heels, not for himself but for Sara. Sometimes Sara didn’t want that, sometimes Sara wanted empty calories and shitty TV. Only now had she came to realise this. Only now, four feet away from the guy who killed her husband and without him knowing killer her, who sounded like he was moving crates around. Why was he moving around so much up there? Booker made his way through the gap behind Rob and Sara, sneaking into first place on the steps.

  ‘Why is everything in second-floor flats?’ Mumbled Booker, squeezing past the pair. He peeped through the rails that topped off the stairs. Inside he saw two rooms, one of them was a living room Booker guessed. He saw a chair and a TV, the TV was tiny and off, the chair was an off pink and was wearing a skirt.

  Creeping up the stairs there was very little noise, it was almost perfect silence, the thick carpet caught a lot of the sound as he made the final steps up to the top. Once at the top Booker had no clue what he was going to do. There was movement, a shadow bounced around in the room on the left, this was a very badly painted maroon colour, blotches of off raid red ran down the walls in drips. Booker turned to make it a few stairs down and slipped on a gas letter which was addressed the person who lived in the home before Michael.

  ‘Fuck.’ Booker yelped, trying to right himself, grabbing onto the bannister for support and not receiving much. He held himself up but not before making an awful lot of noise.

  ‘Who’s there.’ Bark yelled from what Booker had guessed was his bedroom. He looked at the other two on the stairs, Rob was holding his hand over his face so as not to see any more of this clowning, Sara was a little more constructive with her hand movements. Beckoning him on to talk to Michael.

  ‘Hello?’ Booker spoke up with the most confused voice he could muster. There was some silence for a second.

  ‘Who’s there?’ The voice cried out again.

  ‘Hello, I’m a neighbour, I saw your door was open and I wanted to check in on you
.’ Booker struggled under pressure. He looked back down at the pair, this time both of them covered their eyes in regret. ‘You do better.’ Booker shout-whispered down the stairs, which is a difficult thing to do when you’re bricking your trousers.

  ‘Which number?’ Asked Bark, now a little calmer in his voice.

  ‘What?’ Booker filled more of his pants.

  ‘Which number?’ Bark repeated.

  Booker looked down the stairs at Rob and Sara, Sara held up seven fingers, four on one hand and three on the other. Rob held up six, two on one hand and all four fingers on his left.

  ‘Seventy-six?’ Booker tried to say with conviction and failed.

  ‘There’s like twenty houses on this street.’ Sara mumbled. ‘Where did you get seventy-six?’ She asked glancing around, spotting Rob’s fingers up and folding them down before hitting him with her seven. ‘For fuck sake Rob.’ This caught Bookers' eye, what caught his ear was the clicking noise of a gun to his ear.

  ‘I told you vests would never help.’ Said, Booker, as he felt the hard cold steel of the gun pressed to his temple.

  26

  ‘Whoa, whoa, whoa.’ Sara jumped up the stairs as fast as any almost dead girl could move. The gun moved from Booker’s temple and pointed at Sara.

  ‘I knew you’d have something to do with this, you nutty bitch.’ Bark wasn’t a man of words.

  ‘Don’t speak ill of the dead, huh?’ Commented Booker, which was a dumb thing to do as now the gun was once again pointing at him. Although Bark had moved back a few paces and no longer pressed the gun against Bookers head.

  ‘What the fucks going on here?’ Yelled Bark, this kid was obviously unhinged.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Booker asked, oddly more calm now the gun wasn’t touching him.

  ‘Does he look okay?’ Asked Rob from the middle of the stairs. More interested in what was going on than doing the more logical option, which would be fearing for his life and keeping hush.