[Sign Behind the Crime 01.0] Gemini

by Ronnie Allen

  Carol waited in the doorway for him to complete his tirade.

  After he slammed down the phone, he turned to her. “Yes, Carol, what is it?”

  She carried a white box with a huge black bow wrapped around it. “A special messenger brought this over.”

  He took it. “Thanks.” She waited for him to open the box. “That will be all, Carol.”

  She sauntered out. He was amused at the thought that he could have her anytime he wanted. He expected something glamorous or exciting. He almost passed out when he inspected the contents--a condom over the carcass of a rat. Nausea overwhelmed him as he ripped open the card, which read, Stay away from my woman.

  He slumped into his chair and pushed it away from his desk. He called on the intercom, “Carol, call Mr. Katz. I need for him to come here immediately.”

  “He’s already here, Mr. Reynolds.”

  Morgan’s body shook. With trembling hands, he pushed the box to the end of the desk as Steve approached. Steve stared at it and then jumped back as if the odor of death appalled him.

  “I know you’re not liked. But isn’t this pushing it?”

  “I’m not in the mood for your sour jokes.”

  “All right, what do you want to do?”

  “Calling the cops for this nonsense is out of the question.”

  “Morgan, this isn’t kid stuff.”

  “It isn’t so serious, either. Just some crack pot. I’ll ignore him and he’ll go away.”

  “Yeah, sure. Then how come you panicked?”

  “I didn’t panic. I was just surprised. A dead rat as a present? That’s too creative, even for me. You can go now. Just stop at Carol’s desk and sign off on the new contract we negotiated.”

  Steve read the card. “What woman?”

  “Haven’t a clue.”

  “Could Montgomery have done this to send a message to back off?”

  “Nah. This is sick.”

  ***

  John hunched over his desk in his home office with Barbara’s file. He had a lot to tackle. His mind had bent out of shape on this one. He had stopped off at Imaging and begged for her brain scan reports. He got them. Now he separated the blood work, MRI, PET, and CAT into piles.

  Serotonin 50. Major clue here. Tyrosine, GABA, Taurine, Inositol, Choline, B vitamins, Pantothenic acid, zinc, Omega-3, trace minerals, toxic metals, lead. Where did she get lead from? Could be here since childhood. I’ll ask her if she ate pica off walls as a kid. Blood histamine, glucose. Everything is out of normal range here. All right the PET. She let them inject her. That’s a surprise.

  He continued reading.

  Ah, no its not. They needed to do a full-body restraint, and with the ten mg Valium, she was too relaxed to put up much resistance. Okay. At least they got it. Um, lower glucose metabolism in the prefrontal cortex. Could be why her eyes are so armored. It’s right there. Not exactly poor, but somewhat below normal functioning. The corpus callosum, also functions poorly. So her thinking left hemisphere can’t communicate with her right hemisphere or emotional side. Could be why she becomes so aggressive. She can’t rationalize herself out of it. The MRI. Brain cells within the prefrontal cortex region are eleven percent smaller than normal. She does break conventional rules, shows no remorse, and she’s very hostile. Let me look at the amygdala, hypothalamus, and periaqueductal gray matter. All dysfunctional. Premeditated acts of violence? Reduced glucose metabolism in prefrontal cortex and reduced glucose metabolism in corpus callosum, left angular gyrus and abnormal asymmetries in amygdala, hippocampus and thalamus. Oh no, Barbara, what have you done? The orbitofrontal cortex and middle frontal gyrus compromised. Greater volume of white matter in prefrontal cortex. Got that. She’s a pro at deception. Oh man! Why couldn’t I be wrong on this one?

  He picked up the phone and dialed.

  A groggy voice answered. “Hello.”

  “Paul, it’s John.”

  “Do you realize what time it is?”

  “Uh...”

  “It’s three a.m., damn it.”

  “It’s important.”

  “What’s so important it couldn’t wait till tomorrow?”

  “Barbara is a murderer.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Three Years Earlier:

  John opened his eyes, awakened by the sounds of forcefully running water from the shower. Vicki had taken care not to wake him. The closed blinds prevented any hint of the morning Florida sun from disturbing his peaceful sleep. Tossing, turning, and stretching to get back to reality, he glanced at the clock on the night table. Seven-fifteen. What a night. He hadn’t slept so soundly in a long time. He’d needed it.

  In the bathroom, he scrutinized himself in the mirror above the double sink. He felt unkempt with his disheveled hair and coarse beard growing in. Vicki had left him a toothbrush and toothpaste, which he thankfully used. He opened the shower door, without hesitation or contemplating what reaction she might have, and joined her.

  “Oh my God! Do you mind?”

  “Guess not.” He snatched her bath sponge, a fluffy pink ribbony round one saturated with her favorite scent of bath gel, gardenia. “Let me.” He washed her down with tender, loving care, from her neck to her toes, treasuring every part of her body as he inhaled the scent he grew to worship, all the while, passionately kissing her lips through the suds.

  Her hands caressed his face. “Oh God, you look like a caveman! I have to go to work. Don’t start now.”

  “Work? It’s Sunday.”

  “I teach Sunday School.”

  She gazed up into his eyes as the water cascaded down her bounteous breasts.

  He craved more of her. He embraced her and rubbed his belly against her body, wanting her to enjoy the moment. In between soft gentle kisses on her breast, he said. “You’ve got plenty of time.”

  “I have to make my lunch.”

  “I’ll make your lunch.”

  Her pleading look made him give in. They rinsed off. He shut off the water, dried her, and lifted her in both arms. Then he carried her into the bedroom.

  She laughed. “John, I have to dry my hair. I have to go.”

  “What time do you have to be there?”

  “Eight-thirty.”

  “You have over an hour.” He plopped her down on the bed and kissed her neck down to her breasts. “You’re going to go to work very happy.”

  “You’re so scratchy! You’re tickling me. And I’m happy already!”

  He continued down to her stomach and lower, with gentle pecks of his lips.

  She gasped. “John if you’re going where I think you’re going, stop.”

  He did, the moment she said to. “Really?” He lay down next to her. “Why?”

  “The thought of it makes me nervous. Please, don’t be mad.”

  “No, not at all. I’ll never push you to do something you’re not ready for, but I will tell you, you don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “How about I cook you a delicious dinner tonight to make up for it?”

  “Ooh, that sounds great.”

  “What--”

  “Anything you make is fine, just low carb and not fried.”

  “I can do that. I’ve got to get ready for work.”

  “I’ll be at the pool this afternoon. Meet me there?”

  “Sure, darlin’.”

  ***

  He opened the door to his parent’s house at eight, hoping they weren’t up yet, but, no such luck. They sat around a table for six in the nook adjoining the kitchen.

  “John?”

  “Yes, Mom.” He peeked into the nook, his beard matured and his hair protruding out in all directions.

  “You look barbaric.”

  “I’ve been told that already this morning, thank you.”

  “You had to sleep with her on the first date?”

  “Mom, let me get myself together and then you can give me the third degree. What time are we leaving?”

  “Nine.”

  “Give me a half ho
ur.”

  Esther and Sam had finished with breakfast of rolled oatmeal, bagels with cream cheese, and coffee. John appeared all cleaned up; clean-shaven; and dressed in navy blue slacks, light blue shirt, navy tie, and light-blue Versace jacket. He’d adorned himself with his signature sexy Jean Paul Gaultier cologne that even his mother loved. He held his arms out so they could inspect their son. “Better?”

  “Much. Now tell us about this woman.”

  “That’s right to the point, Mom.”

  “So?”

  “I’ll match you. She’s the woman I’m going to marry.” He escaped to the blender in the kitchen to make a protein drink.

  “What?” his parents yelled in unison.

  “I think you heard me.” He poured in milk, banana, raw egg, a vanilla protein powder and wheat germ.

  “What do you know about this woman other than who her father is?” his father demanded, lashing out.

  “She’s thirty-seven, a kindergarten teacher. And she has a twin brother.” He wouldn’t dare tell them about her affinity for weaponry. The blender whirled. After he poured a large glass, he joined them.

  “That’s it?”

  He made himself comfortable, unbuttoning his jacket. “Well, Dad, her dog died last week.”

  “What do you know about her?” his father asked.

  “Uh...”

  “What’s her favorite color?” his mother asked.

  “Don’t know.”

  “Where did she go to college?”

  “Don’t know, Mom.”

  “What’s her favorite food?”

  “Don’t know, Dad.”

  “When’s her birthday?”

  “That one I do know, March twenty-third.”

  “You do not know enough about her to say you’re going to marry her,” his mother said emphatically.

  “I thought you’d both be happy I found someone.”

  “Not from a first date, not from down here, and not someone who’s just a teacher.”

  “Mom, come on.”

  “Does she have a master’s degree at least?”

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Don’t let your little head control the big one.”

  Getting embarrassed, he shrugged. “I think I had enough of this line of interrogation for now, don’t you think?”

  “We’ll discuss it again when his highness is ready to divulge more, his mother said. “Shall we make plans to go to the country club for dinner?”

  “I’m sorry, Mom, Vicki is cooking dinner for me tonight.”

  “Play it your way. Let’s go.”

  ***

  At three p.m., John drove into the country club’s parking lot. While walking to the pool, he noticed the SWAT black hummer with the letters SWAT written across the driver’s side. Laughing, he took a picture of it with his smartphone.

  Wait till the guys see this.

  He made himself comfortable on a lounge chair in the sun to the far right of the entrance and didn’t notice he was being observed. He relaxed, wanting to catch some rays, and the least he expected was a confrontation. Within a few minutes, a take-charge-looking guy strode over to him. About six feet tall, built--but not like him--with blond hair and blue eyes, wearing shorts and a short-sleeved shirt revealing muscular arms and legs, he resembled Vicki. He extended his hand to shake, and John reluctantly acknowledged the extremely firm grip.

  He grabbed a chair from a round glass table next to the lounge. “Mark Marin. Sorry about last night.”

  “Still don’t know what to make of it.”

  “Nothing for you to make of it.” Mark said, his tone unapologetic.

  “Must put a crimp in her social life.”

  “Nah, we shut it down when it’s someone she knows.”

  “Isn’t that going to an extreme?”

  “No, in the one instance we may need it to save her life one day, it’ll be worth it. And you got me into trouble with my wife.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Vicki told Jaimie everything. They’re best friends. From the moment they met, they became like sisters, not sisters-in-law. They tell each other everything, every minutest detail. And then Jaimie told me.”

  John smiled in embarrassment. “So what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is who has time to spend so much time? And on the lanai? Sure, it’s romantic. I’ll give you that, but we need more privacy than that with three kids.”

  “Well, you make the time. Your wife is supposed to be the most precious person in your life and you need to show her that. Women love pampering. Find a time when the kids--”

  “Hey. For fourteen years Jaimie and I have had a great--”

  A high-pitched, sweet little voice interrupted them. “Daddy, Daddy!”

  She sprinted over and jumped into her father’s arms. She was five, precocious, adorable with natural blonde hair in a ponytail and banana curls, big round light blue eyes like Vicki and Mark. The dimples on her cheeks accentuated when she giggled, hugging her Daddy.

  “This is the most precious person in my life and this is what’s it’s all about.” Mark squeezed her tight and kissed her on her cheeks. “This princess and her two brothers. Amanda, say hello to Dr. John.”

  “Ooooh, you’re Aunt Vicki’s new boyfriend.”

  John cringed. He had already fallen in love with Amanda. “No.”

  “Oh yes you are, don’t fib.”

  Mark laughed. His daughter had John’s number. And John knew it, too.

  Mark received a beep on his pager, as did his two, team members on lounges on the opposite side of the pool. “Got to go to work. See you later, Doc.” They dashed off with urgency before John could respond.

  John recognized a situation. He had experienced this reaction so many times before. Furrowed brows, distant eyes on their faces replacing smiles, stiffened body language, the forewarning, that signaled death could be an outcome today.

  “Can I--tell--you a secret?” Amanda whispered.

  Oh, man, she already has me wrapped around her little finger. “If it’s a secret, you can’t tell anyone.”

  “Yes, I can. Please?”

  “Nope.”

  She jumped up and down and John melted.

  “Please? Pretty please?”

  He rolled over onto his stomach. “I’m taking a nap.”

  She bounced up and down impatiently and patted him on his back. “No, you can’t. Not till I tell you the secret.”

  His parents came over and made themselves comfortable on the two lounges next to John. “Amanda, say hello to Dr. Sam and Dr. Esther. They’re my parents.”

  “Hi.”

  “Hello, sweetheart.”

  John smiled at his mother’s loving voice. She longed for one of her own, as she constantly reminded him.

  “I’m telling Dr. John a secret and you can’t hear.”

  “Yes, they can.”

  “No, just you.”

  “Okay, tell me already so I can take my nap.”

  She cupped her delicate hands around his ear and whispered, “Aunt Vicki told Mommy she met the man she’s going to marry.” She giggled as if she’d told him the secret of the universe.

  John laughed deeply. “Really?”

  She giggled. “Yes.”

  In the distance, her mother called her and she scampered off. John looked after her and waved to Vicki who was talking to Jaimie.

  Okay at least we’re on the same page. That’s good. Damn good.

  Vicki waved back, and then joined him, wearing shorts, a tank, and her signature flip-flops. She strode toward his parents, extending her hand with a big smile. “Hello. I’m Vicki.”

  She shook hands with both of them. His father wore that shit-eating grin that always meant he was charmed. She sat on the edge of John’s lounge chair with her right leg crossed over her left.

  John didn’t know what to think. Were they pleasantly surprised at her casual elegance and confident presence, or did they expect the down-hom
e country girl? To him, Vicki was the perfect combination.

  “Hello, dear.”

  Esther wore her probing GYN look. The glare she absorbed from her son wouldn’t deter her from the in-depth Trenton interrogation. John knew that look all too well. Every woman he dared to introduce them to receive the same treatment. Many, it chased away.

  “Your niece is precious.”

  “Yes, she is. Thank you.”

  “Is she the only grandchild?”

  “No. The only girl, though. She’s my twin brother Mark’s daughter and he has two sons, eight and eleven. And my older brother Brian has two sons, six and ten.”

  “Your parents are very fortunate.”

  “Yes. Thank you. We are blessed.”

  “John tells us you teach kindergarten.”

  “Yes. I love the little ones.”

  John sensed Vicki didn’t like his mother’s inquisitiveness and hoped she’d tell her some things but just enough for her to be liked by them. She must have been used to interrogations. Her father gave her plenty. John knew he should relax and just keep his mouth shut.

  “So tell us, Vicki, where did you go to college?”

  “UF at Gainesville.”

  “So you dormed?”

  “Yes, I loved it.”

  John and his father cringed, but let Esther conduct this examination. They understood how Mom operated and it wasn’t always pretty.

  “Did you decide on teaching early on?”

  “I knew in high school I wanted to teach. I volunteered at a group home and I realized after being there a week I wanted to help these children. These are the kids who had no families to take them in. Did you know that fifty-five percent of the children here in Sun County are being raised by grandparents?”

  “No, I had no idea.”

  Even John picked his head up for that one.

  “It’s a staggering amount,” Vicki continued. “And very often, their teacher is the only positive role model they have.”

  “They’re very lucky to have you, Vicki.”

  Wow! She can handle my parents. That’s a first. If my mom likes her, that’s a go.

  “Thank you. I just wanted to come over to say hello. I’m going home to prepare dinner now.”