by Mark Stone
“Then think about what you’re saying,” I answered. “You and your son were close. Isn’t that right, Gary?”
“Of course,” the man answered. “He was my best friend.”
“Good. A man’s son should be his best friend,” I said, careful not to think of my own father and the way we were decidedly not best friends. Instead, I thought of my grandfather, the guy who raised me, the guy who gave me strength when I needed it, and the man who taught me how to be one.
Then I took another deep breath and prepared myself to tell this man something he obviously didn’t want to hear.
“If he was your best friend, do you really think he’d have gone a whole year without talking to you?” I asked, my jaw tightening. “I know you want to believe this, Gary. As someone who would give anything if his mother would watch his bride walk down the aisle, I know how badly you must want this to be true. Think about your son though. Think about the man you knew him to be. Would he really just leave you hanging like this? Would he sit back and watch as his mother descended into the kind of existence she was desperate to see end? You know the answer to that, Gary. As hard as it is, you know it.”
Gary looked at me for a long moment. His mouth opened and then closed, perhaps unable to speak the words his mind was forming. Still, I could tell from the look on his face, from the nature of his eyes and the way his eyebrows creased, that I had gotten through to him.
“You’ve got some nerve!” A familiar voice shouted from the other side of the room. I didn’t need to turn to know the voice belonged to Lilith. Even if common sense hadn’t told me that she’d be the person I’d find inside of her house, I would have recognized that voice in my sleep. Lord knows it had haunted enough of my dreams.
“Lilith,” I muttered, looking at the woman and seeing a shadow of the lady who’d come to me a year ago with her problem. Her face was gaunt and thin, and her hair was stringy and unbrushed. There was a drink in her hand.
“You think I asked for you so you could do this to me again?” She balked.
“I’m not doing anything to you, Lilith,” I said. “You’re hurt. That’s obvious for anyone to see. You’re in pain, and I have no doubt that you believe you saw what you think you saw.” I walked toward the woman slowly. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t make it true.”
“Look at you,” she hissed. “It wasn’t enough for you to treat me like a crazy person the night my son was taken. You want to do the same thing to me today. Didn’t you learn your lesson before? Wasn’t allowing my son to be taken enough of a wakeup call to pull you off your holier-than-thou pedestal?” She glared at me, lifting the drink to her lips. “What the hell is it going to take to get through to you?” ‘
“I’m not sure you should be having that,” I said, looking at the gin in her glass. “How did you attempt suicide? I think you might need to get to the hospital.”
“Screw the hospital,” she answered, lowering the glass as she sipped the liquid. “And you’re not in any position to give me orders, not with all the garbage I’ve been through because of you.”
“I’m not looking to judge you,” I said. “Not at all. I just want you to be happy and healthy. I’d also like it if there was chance you might be able to move on with your life, Lilith. I understand that what you’ve been through is crushing, but do you really think Joel would want you living your life this way? Do you really think he’d want you attempting suicide?”
“Obviously not,” she answered, shaking her head. “Seeing as how he saved me.”
“Is that really what you think happened?” I asked, looking from Lilith to Gary and back again. “Do you really think your son rose from the dead to save your life?”
“Of course not. You’re trying to make me look ridiculous,” she answered. “He obviously didn’t rise from the dead. The only possible explanation is that he never died at all.”
“You said his pacemaker went out,” I said, looking over at Gary. “We checked it. The police department followed up on your story. You were right. Joel’s heart stopped.” I blinked at them. “He died.”
“Or someone removed the pacemaker,” Gary answered.
My eyes widened. “And you think he could have survived that?” I asked. “He had a heart condition. He had just been involved in a horrific car accident. You really think he could have survived having his pacemaker ripped out in a moving vehicle?”
“Maybe,” Lilith answered. “If that moving vehicle was an ambulance.”
“You’re not thinking clearly,” I answered. “Besides, even if it was true, what about the fact that he’s stayed away? How can you account for that?”
“I can’t,” she admitted. “But I can’t account for a few more things, too.” She shook her head, grabbing her throat. “I tried to hang myself. I was almost unconscious when he came in and cut me down. You can go look at the rope. It was a clean cut.” She looked over at Gary. “And you know I never give anyone a key to this house. Only you and Joel had my spare keys. It had to be him.”
“Or someone could have broken in,” I answered. “Maybe someone wanted to rob you and, when they saw what you were doing, decided to help. Maybe he even looked like Joel.”
“There are no signs of forced entry,” Lilith shot back, sneering at me. “I thought you were a cop.”
She was right. As far as I could see, there were no signs of forced entry but that was a lot easier to believe than what they were trying to sell me.
“That’s not all,” Gary said. “He gave her this.” The man held out his palm and showed me a simple silver ring with a cross carved into in.
“A ring?” I asked.
“My grandfather’s ring,” he answered. “The ring my father gave me when I got married, the ring I gave to Joel a year before he vanished.”
“It’s a simple ring,” I said, looking at the trinket. “It wouldn’t be hard to reproduce. Or, it could be a coincidence.”
“A coincidence?” Lilith scoffed. She stepped toward me, poking a finger into my chest. “You didn’t believe me the first time. You looked me straight in the face and told me I was crazy.”
“I never said that,” I responded.
“You may as well have,” she scoffed. “And even if you hadn’t, you still allowed my son to be taken from me. I’m not asking you to believe me. God knows, you don’t seem to have it in you. All I’m asking is for you to look into it.”
Gary grabbed my arm and spun me around. “You told me the day I told you my son was dead that you would stop at nothing to get to the bottom of this. All I’m asking you to do is make good on your word. Do what you said you were going to do. Look around. If you’re right, and you find nothing, then so be it. But at least we’ll know.” He blinked at me. “I think you owe us that much.”
I looked at the man, my mind racing back to the moments we had touched on today, to that horrible night a year ago when we lost his son.
“Okay,” I finally answered. “Let me see what I can do.”
Chapter 14
“Are you even listening?” Rebecca asked from across the table. Of course, I hadn’t been. There was something about the woman you love asking you if you were paying attention to her that made you snap to attention.
“Of course, I am,” I said, looking over at her and smiling. I could tell from the sheen in those seafoam eyes that she knew I was lying. She didn’t say anything though. Instead, she plucked a fry from the plate, stuffed it into her beautiful mouth, and smiled at me.
Rocco’s was exceptionally crowded tonight, something that probably could be attributed to Charlotte. Since her appointment as manager, she had taken the reigns in terms of advertising the little oyster shack. Turned out she was savvy, at least when it came to social media. Under her guidance, Rocco’s had become something of a hidden gem to the college crowd. It was good for the restaurant itself, but not such a wonderful development for longtime customers who had come to enjoy the peace and quiet the place had fostered all these years.
&n
bsp; “I hate college kids,” I muttered, breaking off a piece of the fish and tossing it into my mouth. As always, the fish was perfect. There was a definite difference between eating fish at a five-star inland restaurant and tasting the freshest of catches at a place like this. I knew, without a doubt, that this snapper had been swimming in the Gulf no more than five hours ago, and you could tell that when you tasted it.
“What’s wrong?’ Rebecca asked, reaching over and taking my hand.
“All these kids,” I answered. “I don’t know. I guess I just don’t like the crowds.”
“I’m not talking about that,” she answered, shaking her head. “We both know there’s something more to your demeanor than a wait list at your favorite watering hole.”
“Rocco would never make me wait,” I answered under my breath.
“Dillon,” Rebecca said, my name a plea to answer her seriously. “Is it the wedding? Is my aunt proving too much? I can ask her to back off.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure what good it would do, but I can definitely give it a try.”
“No,” I said, squeezing her hand. “I mean, June is a handful, but I can handle her. That’s- that’s not what this is about.”
“Okay,” Rebecca said, taking a deep breath. “Then what is it about? Are you- are you getting cold feet or something?”
I stared at Rebecca, my chest tightening at the idea that she would even think that. I had to dispel her of that notion, and I had to do it in a way that would convince her that I had zero doubts about where my future belonged. The only way I knew to do that was to tell the truth.
“I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life than to be your husband. There is nothing in this life, or the next, that could pull me away from you,” I said unblinkingly. “Do you believe me?”
“Of course,” she answered, a smile breaking out across her face. “But there’s something wrong, Dillon, and not just tonight. If I’m being honest with myself, I’d felt it for a while now. You’ve been distant. You’ve been preoccupied. It’s almost like you’re looking for something else.”
“I am,” I said, and winced as I watched her face fall. “But not in the way you probably think.” I squeezed her hand again. “You are enough for me. You’re more than enough. You’re actually way too good for me, but it’s probably not in my best interest to remind you of that so close to the wedding.”
She smiled again, which lifted a weight from my shoulders.
“I saw Lilith and Gary Mayberry today,” I continued.
“Dillon,” she whispered, biting her lower lip. “Why would you do that to yourself?”
“Because I had to,” I answered. “Because I owe it to them.”
“This again?” she asked, pulling her hand from mine. “I know you feel responsible for what happened that night but that couldn’t be further from the truth. You did your job. You saved Lilith’s life.”
“At what cost?” I asked.
“That’s not up to you,” Rebecca answered, huffing. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that you don’t get to decide that.” She ran a hand through her short, dark hair. “You have a responsibility to help people whether they want it or not. Lilith didn’t have the right to tell you to leave her somewhere with a bomb strapped to her chest, even if her son was in danger. You had no idea how large that explosive was. You had no idea who could have been coming down that street. For all you knew, you could have saved a dozen lives by disarming that bomb.”
“Except for the fact that I wasn’t thinking about any of that,” I said. “I was just thinking about her.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” Rebecca asked. “You saw a woman in danger, and you threw yourself into the line of fire to save her. It’s what makes you a good cop and a great man. It’s one of the things I love the most about you.” She shook her head. “You used to know that, Dillon. You knew the difference between doing what felt right and doing what actually was right. I don’t understand why you’ve let this woman and her husband hang these issues on you. I don’t get why you let them wriggle their way into your head.”
“Because they were right,” I said. “Not about everything, but about the fact that I didn’t-”
“You did your job,” she cut me off.
“I missed something,” I answered. “I’m still missing something. Lilith tried to kill herself today, and both she and her husband think their son came into the house and saved her.”
“Their dead son?” Rebecca asked. “That’s insane.”
“Maybe,” I said, looking down at the plate. “But I promised I would look into it.”
“Why, Dillon?” she asked me blinking hard. “Why do you keep opening this wound?”
“Because it’s infected, Rebecca,” I said. “I told you, I’m missing something and- until I can figure out what that something is- they’re not going to be able to move on.” I blinked at her. “And I’m afraid I won’t be able to either.”
She glared at me, biting her lower lip again. “Then, for the both of our sakes, I hope you can figure it out, Dillon. I really do.”
I opened my mouth to talk to her though I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to say.
It turned out I would never have to figure it out because, before I could form a word, an unmistakable sound rang through the air. It came from outside and it immediately sent a shockwave of adrenaline through my body. It was the unmistakable sound of a gunshot.
Chapter 15
I was on my feet the instant I heard the gunshot, my body tense and my mind racing.
“Dillon, what is it?” Rebecca asked, looking up at me. “That-that was a car backfiring, right?”
It didn’t occur to me that Rebecca, and perhaps the other patrons in Rocco’s, wouldn’t recognize the sound of a gunshot when they heard it. It made sense though. They almost certainly hadn’t been around as many of them as I had.
“I need you to stay here,” I said, glaring down at my fiancé. She, of course, paid me little attention.
Jumping to her feet, she looked up at me. “You need to call for backup.”
“And I will,” I answered, nodding at her in an affirming manner. “But right now, I need to do my job, and I can’t do that if you’re rushing out after me. So, please sit down.” I looked around at the people in the restaurant, most of whom were looking at me. “That goes for all of you. Please stay in here until I get this situation, whatever it is, under control.” I looked back at Rebecca. Whispering, I added, “I’ll be fine. I’ll be careful.”
“You better be,” she responded unblinkingly.
Turning, I rushed toward the door, my hand hovering over my firearm. Pushing through the door, I found the front porch of Rocco’s and the stretch of grass that led to a gravel lot which, in turn, lead to the beach, to be a mess of people, all running, all yelling.
College kids rushed around, some crying and screaming. I grabbed ahold of one of them, a boy with spiky black hair and a pair of sunglasses on, even though it was dark outside.
“Let go of me!” he screamed, pulling his arm away from me hard.
“Calm down,” I said, pulling out my badge and showing it to him. “I need to know what’s going on here, bud.”
“Somebody shot at them,” he said, his entire body shaking. “They were just getting out of their car and somebody pulled up on a bike and shot at them.”
“Who?” I asked firmly, keeping my voice calm and my demeanor stalwart.
“I don’t know!” the kid shouted. “The sonofabitch was wearing a helmet! I couldn’t see who his face!”
“Not the shooter,” I said. “The victims. Who was the guy on the bike shooting at?”
“Them,” he said. “Those girls.” He pointed toward a red car in the far end of the gravel parking lot. “They ran and then they fell. I don’t know if they got hit or not. I don’t know what’s happening, man. I just came here for vacation. I thought this place was supposed to be nice. I thought it was supposed to be paradise.”
&nb
sp; “Yeah,” I muttered, letting him go and starting toward the parking lot. “I guess there’s trouble in paradise…again.”
My heart pumped a little faster as I trotted over toward the car. I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to find. In the academy, they teach you a lot of things about running headfirst toward the scene of a crime. They teach that your body will almost always tell you not to do it. They also teach you not to be too hard on yourself when it does. After all, it’s human nature to run from danger, not toward it. Changing the sort of biology that causes one to value their own safety above almost all other things is a lesson in futility. Still, you’re expected to do it and, when you’ve managed to circumvent your God given nature, there are a few other things you have to take into consideration.
Crime scenes are like science experiments. There are a million moving parts. Some of them you see. Most of them you don’t. Even the ones you’re aware of, you don’t always understand. Because of that, you need to be ready for anything. I had no idea why a man on a motorcycle would swing by a crowded restaurant and shoot up a car full of girls. It could be random or it could be plotted out. They could be helpless victims, or they could have seen it coming and be armed themselves. Any of those things were just as possible as the rest. To that end, I needed to be careful. I’d promised Rebecca I’d be okay, and I was way too close to ‘I do’ to make a liar out of myself tonight.
I grabbed my firearm, pulling it from its holster. The weight of it felt familiar in my hands, too familiar. Lucky cops go through their entire career without having to discharge a firearm more than a handful of times. I might have been lucky in other ways but, in that regard, I definitely didn’t fall among the fortunate.
I had fired this gun far too many times for my liking. I had faced far too many awful things and gone down way too many dangerous roads for my liking.
Still, I was a detective, and a damn good one. The world didn’t have enough of those, enough people who were willing and able to face down the darkness. I had to do it, regardless of the cost.