Take One With You

by Oak Anderson

  But now he knew that he could, and that made all the difference.

  Charlie opened Brad’s door, the moonlight from the open window glinting off the brass poker he’d taken from the fireplace downstairs. The heft of the implement gave Charlie comfort. Brad always liked to buy the most expensive of everything whether he actually used it or not, and this was a fine example of his hubris.

  He stood in the doorway for a moment, savoring the peace that had come to him so suddenly. Charlie almost couldn’t wait to bury the sharp hook in Brad’s skull, if only because he imagined Sarah’s reaction when she heard the news of his murder-suicide.

  They had talked about such things so often, and now Charlie would have her undying respect.

  Undying. Maybe that’s the wrong word.

  He laughed, and Brad stirred in his sleep, but Charlie wasn’t worried. It would almost be better if he woke up. That was the one tiny flaw in his plan. That Brad wouldn’t see it coming. Charlie really wanted Brad to see it coming.

  As he stood in the doorway contemplating whether or not to wake up Brad before staving in his fucking skull, Charlie was almost tingling with anticipation. His entire body was practically vibrating.

  Charlie looked down. It was a text.

  He lowered the poker, which he hadn’t been aware he’d raised, and brought the phone to eye level.

  fu chikless

  Charlie stared at the screen, not noticing that Brad had just opened his eyes, not quite comprehending what he was seeing: A silhouette in his doorway, holding some sort of weapon.

  Charlie turned and left the room.

  ***

  “What the fuck are you doing?” He threw her report on his desk in disgust.

  Anita Hellstrom just stared at the Chief of Detectives sullenly, not quite knowing what she should say. Undercover work was all pretty new to her, and she wanted to tread carefully if she could.

  “I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

  Myers laughed derisively. “Tell me how this isn’t just a goddamned waste of resources.”

  “I just got started, sir.”

  “Shit,” he said, almost spitting out the words. “You came to me on this, officer.”

  “No I didn’t!” Anita said. He really caught her off guard.

  Myers narrowed his eyes. “I mean you came to me about the deaf kid,” he said. “Which, by the way, amounted to dick. The kid never repeated any of that shit about Parks going after the homeless guy.”

  “I can talk to him again. He trusts me.”

  “Too late for that. The homeless guy disappeared.”

  “So why did you put me on Parks, then?” she demanded. “Sir.”

  “Watch your tone,” Myers growled. He stood up and walked to the window, as if considering just how much to tell her. From the beginning, Anita could sense some of the higher-ups had it in for Thane, and based on what the deaf boy had told her, she was all for taking him down.

  After spending time with him, however, her thoughts on that were a bit more conflicted. She trusted the kid’s version of events, but maybe Thane had a good reason.

  He’d jokingly mentioned “taking out the trash” once or twice, as in cops who were known to be exceptionally rough and even murderously violent with certain perps, much like the prison hierarchy that demanded retribution for certain offenses. Maybe Thane knew something about the homeless guy they didn’t.

  Myers turned around to face her. “Look, I need you to get closer to him.”

  “Captain – ”

  “You practically blew him when you left that bar a couple weeks back, for Christ’s sake!”

  Anita flinched as if she’d been slapped, and stood up. “Fuck you.” She turned and headed for the door, but Myers caught her hand on the knob. She whirled around, backing him up. “And why were you tailing me that night, anyway? I follow him and you follow me? Is that how it’s done? Jesus!”

  “Anita,” he said, almost but not quite apologetically, “sit down.”

  She turned and shot daggers his way, but followed the instruction. Myers let her stew for a minute before continuing.

  “What’s the problem?” he finally said.

  “I’m married!”

  “I cleared it,” he said, visibly exasperated.

  “You cleared it? With who?”

  “Who do you think?” Myers asked, and looked like he immediately regretted it.

  She looked at him, incredulous. “You brought my husband into this?”

  “I gave him a heads up so there wouldn’t be any problems,” Myers said. “I’m looking out for you.”

  She laughed bitterly. “Thanks for your concern.”

  “I’m looking out for both of you! John wants to make detective, you want off the streets. How the fuck do you think you get promoted around here?” he scoffed. “Merit?”

  “I guess Thane learned that pretty quickly, huh?”

  Myers glared at her. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you’ve spent too much time with him already.” He stood up as if to dismiss her, but she quickly reconsidered. She wanted to advance, and she knew this was the quickest way.

  “Fine,” she said. “I’ll stay on him. It’s just awkward, you know?”

  “Yeah, he’s got a thing for you, I got it. Part of the job.”

  “Why can’t I just shadow him?” she asked.

  “We tried that. He picks it up. Got a sixth sense for that shit.” Myers sat down. “That’s why Internal Affairs closed the books on him. But he’s got something going on. I got instincts, too.”

  “Whatever works, though. Right, Captain?”

  “Of course. I’m just trying to keep you from wasting your time, that’s all.”

  “I understand,” she said, and stood up to leave.

  “Anita,” Myers said, stopping her at the door. “You get something solid, I can run with it. I don’t give a shit how you do it. Just be careful. Parks is good.”

  “How good?” she asked.

  Myers grimaced, as if he might choke on the words. “If he ever learned how to play ball, you’d be spying on the next Chief of Detectives.”

  She nodded and walked out, closing the door behind her.

  ***

  Thane looked at the return text from Anita.

  Cant 2 nite. Raincheck?

  “Goddamnit,” he yelled, and almost threw his phone out the window. This chick was driving him nuts. She’d been putting him off for weeks now, and he knew damn well she wanted him. All that accidental lust, and then nothing.

  Accidental.

  Thane had wondered at first about how she just happened to show up at the bar like that, but their conversation that night had pushed all that to the back of his mind. There was something raw and honest about her, and though he wasn’t used to that in a woman, he found it extremely affecting. Anita had brought out that same raw honesty in him, and it surprised him how much he wanted more.

  She gave him hope.

  Still, he wasn’t about to let some piece of ass completely cloud his judgment. He’d gotten through an official investigation recently after he’d “borrowed” some buy money from the evidence room after a drug bust he had no idea would go to trial so quickly, barely replacing it, misfiled, so that it looked like someone else’s mistake. But he’d had to go to a loan shark to get it back that fast, and it hurt. The fucking ex had been putting the screws to him for spousal support and money for the kid, creating emergencies that would look good in court, trying to get him to fuck up so she could deny visitation. She was the reason he took the money in the first place, the stupid cunt.

  The whole thing with the Internal Affairs’ shooflies left him even more suspicious of other cops than he already was.

  Anita, however, was different.

  Why the hell is she putting me off?

  “Aw, fuck it,” he said, and left the house for a scum run. He liked to keep tabs on the ones that got away, just in case the opportunity for a little off-the-books justice presented itself. That’s wh
y he let loose on that asshole in the alley. Stealing from a kid like that pissed him off, but because he’d been under investigation, it had been a long while since he’d risked going out. The candyman had just been in the wrong place at the right time.

  Thane pulled up outside the titty bar and cut the engine. One of his lucky rapists was known to frequent the place, so maybe he’d get lucky too and catch him for a beat down. Thane hadn’t killed any of them yet, mostly just scared them the hell out of the area, but he was feeling the old rage building up, and since Officer Goodbody wasn’t letting him aboard, maybe he’d find another way to blow off a little steam.

  ***

  Anita Hellstrom pulled to a stop a half block away and waited for Thane to get out of his car, but instead he just sat there outside the strip club, like he was on a stakeout. She had found herself oddly disappointed when she followed him there, as if they were in a relationship or something. When he didn’t get out of his car, she was not only curious, but also absurdly relieved.

  “Come on, Anita. Focus.”

  She watched him for another hour before anything happened, and it was nothing like she expected.

  After the bar closed, the patrons filed out, followed shortly after by what were obviously the dancers, some alone and some in small groups. The last girl to leave was escorted to her car by a bouncer, who then got in his car and drove away.

  Anita watched as Thane stared at the girl, sitting in her car and lighting a cigarette.

  Oh, Jesus, no, Anita thought.

  But then a seedy-looking character came out of nowhere and yanked open the dancer’s car door, and that was when Thane flew into the parking lot with his torch, catching the guy in his spotlight just as he was about to hit the girl.

  She watched in fascination as Thane cuffed the guy and threw him in the back seat of his car, then leaned in and said something to the girl before letting her drive away.

  He’s not calling it in. If this was official he’d need her statement.

  Anita followed him as Thane drove around, seemingly in circles, which told her that he was being exceedingly cautious, so she hung back as far as she possibly could and still keep eyes on the vehicle.

  After another forty minutes, Thane led her to an industrial area and disappeared between the warehouses. There was no way she could go in there without being detected, so she parked down the street and waited.

  A half-hour later, Thane’s vehicle exited the complex the same way he’d come in. There was only one person in the car.

  Anita waited until Thane’s car disappeared and then drove into the parking lot and slowly made her way around the decrepit-looking buildings.

  She found him almost immediately.

  The guy from the strip club was lying next to a trash bin in a fetal position, as if he’d been trying to shield himself from an attacker.

  Oh shit.

  Anita pulled her service revolver, suddenly aware that she might not be alone with the guy. It wasn’t the best neighborhood to get caught with a corpse. Or anything else, for that matter.

  Then the guy moaned, and she ran towards him. She kneeled down and rolled him over. His face was swollen and bleeding, but he was conscious. She found his wallet and wrote down the guy’s name. She noticed he had more than a few twenties in there to go with a cache of ones.

  Lousy tipper.

  Anita ran to her car and sped away, stopping at a convenience store with a pay phone, and called it in anonymously. Then she drove past the warehouse until she saw the ambulance and a cruiser, and went home, exhausted and intrigued.

  When she ran the guy’s name the next day, she was convinced that, despite the beating he took the night before, he was one of the luckiest scumbags she’d ever seen.

  His arrest record was longer than her arm, but there were no convictions. She decided not to tell Captain Myers, though. At least not yet.

  This might be bigger than some missing buy money.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Child molesters.

  Charlie waited, staring at his phone.

  Nothing.

  He texted her again, this time with three more words he knew would get her interest even more than the jarring phrase that came before, a bastardization of one of the ancient rap songs they’d laughed about online before they’d met in person.

  Hack tha police

  His phone rang and he nearly dropped it trying to answer.

  “Leave me the fuck alone, asshole!”

  “Unless you don’t think you can do it,” Charlie challenged. He felt like he was treading a very thin line, but he’d not forgotten how to push her buttons.

  “Fuck you,” Sarah said, but she didn’t hang up, and Charlie knew he had her.

  “Instead of finding them online, why not go straight to the cops’ files? Throw a few locals to get things started.”

  Charlie waited in silence as Sarah considered that. The plan was, before their fight, to put up the TOWY site and start with a list of people they’d gotten from the state sex offender registry, then keep watch in newspapers and social media for cases that fit the criteria: people who deserved to be punished, but were beyond the reach of the legal system. But with access to local police files, they could surprise some people who might otherwise go unnoticed. Scumbags who thought they were safe.

  “We can watch,” Sarah said.

  “Exactly,” Charlie replied. It was eerie how they were so in sync, sometimes.

  “We find the lucky ones,” she said, sounding more and more excited. “The ones who think they’re getting away with it.”

  “The ones nobody knows about,” Charlie added. “Except the cops.”

  There was another long silence on the other end of the line, and it was all Charlie could do to keep from screaming into the phone, but he managed to stay quiet. It was almost like she was testing him, taunting him, waiting to see how long she could keep her response, and herself, just out of his reach.

  That only made Charlie want it more, something they both knew.

  On second thought, Charlie decided she knew how to push his buttons a lot better than he did hers. Probably all girls did.

  “Hey,” she said, her voice soft and urgent.

  “Yeah?” Charlie answered, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. She so owns me, he thought.

  “What the fuck are you doing over there?” she demanded more than asked, and then she was gone.

  Charlie hung up and jumped in the shower. He was so excited he could barely contain himself, but he still wanted to be nice and clean in case…well, just in case.

  It was not, however, only the possibility of Sarah’s body against his own that so inspired him. Even more importantly, his plan for the website and how it would all come together was falling into place even more perfectly than he’d hoped.

  He did feel a little guilty for keeping a certain part of his plan secret from Sarah, but he was pretty sure she would approve if she knew. And she would know, eventually.

  But as much as he loved her, and he did love her, he knew that now, that was one particular detail he couldn’t share with anyone, not even Sarah.

  At least not yet.

  That didn’t mean they couldn’t have a little fun in the meantime. Hell, maybe she’ll let me move in with her. Better bring an overnight bag.

  ***

  Brad took another drink and stared out the window.

  Does he know?

  He ran his hands through his hair, rubbing his scalp like a Magic 8-Ball, but there were no answers forthcoming.

  “The fuck am I gonna do?”

  He’d been a nervous wreck ever since he’d woken up with his stepson standing over him with a poker. Not because he thought the kid actually had the balls to do something, but because he didn’t. At least, he hadn’t when he had the chance. But he was still worried.

  In Brad’s experience, if you wanted to hurt somebody but didn’t have the guts, you’d eventually find some other way to do some damage, and there was
something strange about how Charlie had been acting lately. Something was up with him, and Brad thought he knew what it was.

  The day after Charlie’s friend Sarah came by, Brad had gone down to his office to retrieve the document. A document that basically returned control of his entire business back to him. A document his wife, Charlie’s mother, had signed not long before she died, not knowing it would rob her precious son of his inheritance.

  The arrangement had worked beautifully for a while, but more and more Brad had realized it had all been a colossal mistake. It would have been easily fixable, though, except the stupid bitch jumped the gun. Things would have looked a little too suspicious if he’d recorded the document so soon after her suicide. Like he was purposely trying to fuck the kid out of his inheritance.

  Which he was.

  Brad didn’t need anyone looking too closely at his wife’s death, however. Especially all those prescriptions he’d filled for her at multiple pharmacies, using multiple doctors.

  “Goddamnit!” Brad screamed, suddenly so agitated he could barely contain himself. Everything would have been so perfect if the dumb bitch could have just held on a little longer until he had everything in place.

  Brad paced around the room, wishing the kid was in front of him so he could strangle the little bastard.

  After several minutes pacing around the house like a caged animal, Brad finally began to calm down enough to focus on the problem at hand.

  Why should the kid get half just because I went temporarily insane for a piece of ass that passed its sell-by date before our first anniversary?

  It had all gone so smoothly till that night. The cold shoulder, the extra pills. He’d planned on a few more months of slowly nudging his wife towards the edge, all the while moving undeclared cash from his insurance scams back to his accounts at a rate the feds wouldn’t notice.

  But she’d proven to be even weaker and more worthless than he realized.

  It had been such a perfect plan, using his wife’s name on whatever documents he needed to provide himself deniability if he was caught, knowing she’d be dead by the time that happened, if it ever did. She couldn’t be forced to testify against him while she was alive, and he would be protected after she was dead.