After the Evil – A Jake Roberts Novel (Book 1)

by Cary Allen Stone

  Jake, please be that person.

  Just as she finished the thought, the telephone rang and startled her. Is would have been a perfect time for Jake to call, but the airline was looking for Lori to cover another crew member’s flight the following morning. Crew schedulers were considered the enemy by flight crewmembers. They turned your life upside down more than any microburst. Disappointment spread across her face. She needed time alone with him.

  “No, I’m sorry I just got in from another trip, and unfortunately brought a sinus infection home with me, my head’s all stuffed up. You know I would otherwise, sorry.” She sniffled a few times to bolster her story.

  They weren’t all cold-blooded. The crew scheduler assured her that he understood completely and recommended some cold medications that worked for him. He added that he hoped she would be feeling better soon and said goodbye. As soon as she replaced the receiver in the cradle, it rang again. She prepared to sniffle some more, but the voice on the other end was a pleasant surprise, a sweet sound to hear. Lori felt the butterfly fluttering in her stomach, and noticed how quickly her mood was transformed into a blissful state. There was no doubt she had strong feelings for him.

  “Hi, Jake, I saw you on the news.”

  “I wish there was some other reason for me to be in the news.”

  I want her to know that I’m more than just a cop, one-dimensional, but I’m just happy to know she’s thinking about me.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” she says.

  “For not calling sooner, for being preoccupied––”

  She cut me off in mid-sentence.

  “I’m just glad to hear from you, I understand, I really do understand.”

  Lori has a way of staying ahead of me.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, I do. I hope you understand when I have to fly. It’s not easy being in a relationship with a flight attendant. I leave town for several days, travel all around the country, and fly back at odd times to get home. I hope that’s not too hard on you.”

  “Waiting for you is like waiting for Christmas, Any chance I can see you tonight?”

  I can’t see her smile, the small bite of her lip, or the tilt of her head.

  “I’m in the kitchen right now preparing dinner, and there’s enough food here for a quiet dinner at home for two.”

  “Half an hour?”

  “Give me an hour, because I want to look my best for you.”

  The thought of a quiet, romantic evening alone with Lori reenergizes me. I renegotiate.

  “Forty-five minutes.”

  “I’ll be ready,” she says.

  I search for a better shirt and check my face in the mirror for a possible quick shave. My pulse noticeably elevates. Tonight is the night. My passion kicks in. I want to be primal and free, I want to be a man. I don’t want to think about the scum I deal with, about the girl, or Gates. I just want to be with her and not ruminate about the consequences.

  If I use the lightbar, I can run all the lights.

  * * *

  Harmon grew up on the meanest streets, and was considered a traitor to his race when he joined the police department. He knew who the bad guys from the neighborhood were, and they believed he would use that information to persecute them. While he was street smart, Harmon Blackwell was also book smart, a man who played down his significant intellect. Ed once told me, “Brilliant is born; educated is grown.” Harmon was brilliant.

  As he walked back into his new office, Harmon was exhausted after giving what felt like his thousandth briefing to the news people. They could drain your blood faster than an open carotid artery. All he wanted was a peaceful break in the action. The door to his office closed loudly enough to signal to everyone it was break time––Do Not Disturb. He dragged his chair out and collapsed into it. Opening the top drawer of his desk, he retrieved a Scientific American magazine he had stored there. After adjusting his glasses, Harmon began reading hoping to finish the article he started days earlier.

  The article described how the silicon chip currently used in computers performed its magic at two billion times per second by using fifty-five million transistors. However, in the span of a few years, mankind could reasonably expect computers to be developed that used single-molecule, DNA strands, or quantum-effect chips to perform godzillions of computations at light speed. He read another article about Biomed implants, microscopic nano-computers, injected into the body, that will seek out disease, and eliminate it effectively bringing an end to all invasive surgical procedures.”

  Harmon leaned back in his chair.

  Incredible.

  It was going to be Harmon’s last chance to take a break. His head jerked up when he heard a knock on the door. He couldn’t believe someone was dumb enough to interrupt him. To his surprise, the door opened. Mika walked in. Since leaving the bar, she had found time to walk and think. It happened. Trauma made your feet move. You couldn’t sit still. You thought movement alone would somehow help you to lose the sunken ship feeling. Harmon noticed the distant look on her face, and the enormous amount of compassion he had inside of his massive body rose to the surface. If it was anyone else besides Mika who had interrupted his down time, they would be pulling their head out of their behind with both hands. He asked if she was okay.

  “Yeah, yeah...just been walking, thinking.”

  “You’re not still debating the shoot are you? It was a clean shoot, justified.’

  He waited. Without raising her eyes to look at him, she nodded.

  “I know.”

  She began to pace.

  “What’s wrong? Come on Mika, we’ve been friends for a long time, let it out.”

  “That’s not it, Harmon. It’s what Jake said tonight. It doesn’t add up, but I can’t seem to figure out why.”

  She collapsed into a chair and stared off into space.

  “It all points to Gates, he confessed, but for some strange reason, it bites at me that he wasn’t the one I was looking for.”

  “Mika, Gates is dead, the case is closed. The public hysteria is over. You did a great job. We should be rejoicing and not analyzing.”

  He walked over and placed a hand on her narrow shoulder.

  “Personally, I hope I never hear the name Michael Gates again.”

  She looked up with her two beautiful Asian eyes and a pouting face.

  “I guess you’re right, maybe because of the shoot I’m... I should get some sleep.”

  “I’ll drive you. Where’s that hotel you’re staying at?”

  “I don’t want to sit in that awful hotel room alone.”

  Mika glanced up at him like a child seeking a parent’s approval.

  “Would you drop me off at Jake’s?”

  * * *

  As she hustled around her bedroom, Lori recalled her early morning visit with her daughter. The visit was different from all the others, because she wanted to reveal to Emily her thoughts and feelings about a relationship with Jake.

  Where have you been, mommy? You know how I look forward to your visits.

  “I know sweetheart, and I’m sorry. Time seems to be moving much faster these days.”

  Emily’s tone turned accusatory, angry.

  It’s because of him, isn’t it?

  Lori looked away from her daughter’s headstone where the girl’s voice always emanated from. She pondered the question for a moment and sighed.

  “Emily, I really like him.”

  Waiting for Emily’s answer and approval, Lori fidgeted with the leaves that had fallen on the grave.

  “He’s different, gentle and thoughtful. He makes me feel happy again.”

  She looked back at the headstone, but her daughter’s reply never came. The silence ended when the taunting voice spoke.

  Another mistake, Lori. Didn’t you learn anything from all the others? Men are not to be trusted, or loved.

  She didn’t want to hear it again, and her daydream came to an abrupt halt. She looked around th
e bedroom to regain her bearings. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she decided to make it work with Jake.

  * * *

  What a rush, I feel like a teenager on a first date. As I walk up the front steps, I feel I’m home. The muted exterior colors against the lush foliage suggest peace and happiness. I try to imagine what it would be like to come here every night, to Lori’s house in this quaint, picket-fenced neighborhood. It would be a gift to fall into her arms after a long day. As I reach the front door, I’m amazed at how pumped I am. Life seems to be starting all over again. After I press the doorbell, the front door opens and Lori appears in a clinging, black, mid-thigh dress. Neither of us speak, we embrace and kiss. My hands roam over her shoulders and lower back. Her hands lock behind my neck.

  The kiss lasts for more than the measure of a minute signaling that the evening will be memorable. Pleasurable thoughts swirl around inside my head. As our lips separate, she gently strokes my face.

  “I’ve missed you, but I didn’t know how much until now,” she says.

  She grasps my hands and pulls me inside. Any hesitation I may have had about falling in love with her ends here. All I have to do is keep my animal instincts in check. I need a distraction. During my official visit to her home, I noticed that the interior of the house was a complete reflection of Lori Powers. If it was millennium chick then it was in here. While Lori watches me pulling surveillance, I notice something is missing.

  “No television?”

  “Jake Roberts, you came here to watch television?”

  “No, I’m just curious. That’s a great stereo system over there, an incredible CD collection, real paintings and expensive furnishings. I just don’t see a television.”

  I throw my arms around her waist and pull her close.

  “Which makes sense the more I think about it. Who needs television when you’re in the room?”

  The second kiss is followed by several more. The chemistry is powerful, pure peace and serenity. Lori looks into my eyes. She is breathtaking in the soft glow of the living room lights.

  “Got in late last night?”

  “Yes, didn’t you get my message? I left one on your machine. I did an all-nighter from San Francisco, a red eye. I’m actually glad you didn’t see me. I looked a mess.”

  You are the one.

  “Somehow, I can’t imagine you ever being a mess.”

  I don’t want to let go of her. After the past few days, I desperately need to hold on to something, or someone, I can believe in, someone who’s real.

  “Could we just stay this way for awhile? It’s been a real bad day.”

  Her scent draws me in. My heart is exposed and I want her love to embrace it.

  “Roger, you’re cleared for the approach, over.” she says.

  The tease was provocative. Another kiss follows. She leans back and studies my eyes with concern.

  “A bad day?”

  Her interest in my life always surprises me. Most people hate cops, but she is at ease with me, supportive. I feel my facial muscles tense as I look up at the ceiling. My job revolves around murder. I can’t discuss that abyss with her.

  “It’s all right, Jake, I can take it. I want you to know I’m here for you. If you’re hurting then so am I.”

  Her offer of support props me up and her eyes say it’ll be all right. This case is more spectacular than most, so maybe I can. I decide to take the chance, this time.

  “Captain Edward Fairchild, my friend, was the last victim of the killer we’ve been searching for. He was lured out by this guy, Michael Gates.”

  While she listens, I let go of her and move around the room, pacing help. Lori sits down on her sofa and leans forward with her hands clasped together.

  “We didn’t get there in time to save him, the whole precinct is devastated. Ed was family. We can’t grieve, because the investigation is ongoing. The funeral is delayed because of the autopsy.”

  That statement hurts. The lump in my throat grows larger.

  “Ed was a father figure to all of us, someone the whole precinct looked to for guidance, encouragement. He taught me everything about how to be a good cop. When I fell down, he picked me up, brushed me off, and sent me out again.”

  Michael Gates’ face bursts into my thoughts.

  “And that cold-blooded, psychopath murdered him, I didn’t get to Ed in time...couldn’t save him.”

  10

  “The key should be under the––” Harmon says.

  Mika gets out of the car.

  “I still have one thank you,” she says.

  She didn’t feel it was necessary to explain why. Maybe she would on some other day, an easier day. In her heart, she knew that she kept it as a reminder of happier times. She also felt it had some good luck attached to it, because whenever she was with Jake she always felt safe and protected.

  “Are you going to be all right, Harmon?”

  He thought about it for a moment.

  “Yeah, I’m a big boy. And I’ve got more things to keep me distracted now that I’m––the man.”

  He slumped down in the car seat.

  “But keep next week open, okay? It will hit me hard then and I’m going to need a lot of special care.”

  Mika blew Harmon a small kiss and waved goodbye. Since Ed had been so hastily taken away, it seemed more important than ever to see someone you loved as long as you could. You felt the longer you kept looking their way, the safer they would be. Ed’s murder proved no one was safe anymore. Mika watched until Harmon made the turn at the end of Jake’s street.

  There were plenty of people out walking, and traffic moved briskly along the street. Mika decided to stay out on the sidewalk for a while and take it all in. She studied the faces and the surroundings out of habit. All she really wanted the rest of the night was to find comfort in Jake’s arms. She wondered what his reaction would be at finding her at his front door. She knocked and waited but there was no answer. Jake, she knew, was a light sleeper. She rang the bell and waited for a light to illuminate. She peeked through the curtain to see if his shadow was approaching. Finally, she found the key in her purse and slid it into the lock. The tumblers tumbled, and Mika walked in.

  “Jake?”

  She reached in the dark for the light switch on the wall. It was warm inside the apartment. She noted that the apartment hadn’t changed much since she moved out. While she contemplated what her dad had said about settling down with Jake, she also wondered if her career had been the correct path to take. At the time, she was convinced that her career came first, and there would always be time for a relationship. Now, standing in Jake’s apartment, she doubted it had been the best path to choose. Then it hit her with full force. The morbid thoughts consumed her, and she started to cry. She couldn’t stop. Her legs weakened and collapsed beneath her. Lying on the floor, she was overwhelmed with feelings of exposure, vulnerability, and guilt.

  * * *

  “Gates made up some crap about you and Abrams. He made me angry, so I stepped into the hall for a break. He managed to take the weapon from the officer guarding him. He killed the officer. He went into the hall and tried to escape then he drew down on me, I was in his sights. I wasn’t armed so there was nothing I could do. There wasn’t any place in the corridor to hide. An FBI agent, a friend of mine, shot Gates. She fired twice over my shoulder as I dropped to the floor. I could hear the bullets hiss as they passed by my ear. It was all of two seconds, and it was over.”

  “Oh my God, I didn’t know,” Lori says.

  She reaches for me. She grasps my hands and draws them to her lips giving them a gentle, loving kiss. Her dire expression turns to one of relief. She holds me close.

  Good, Gates is dead mommy. Now they won’t know about you.

  The aggressive, demanding voice follows Emily’s.

  Kill Roberts before it’s too late.

  A strange, twisted look appears on her face and it’s obvious I’ve said too much.

  “Lori, are you okay?�
��

  She recovers and looks up at me with her beautiful cyan eyes.

  “I’m just so glad you weren’t hurt, I don’t know what I would do if you were.”

  Our embrace is strong and suggests together we can do anything. She is an extraordinary woman and I’m a lucky man.

  “I lost my friend today, but we got that sick sonofabitch. I won’t bring the job home again, I’m sorry.”

  We both realize what just slipped out of my mouth. A grin appears on both of our faces.

  “Jake, did you just say ‘bring the job home’?”

  I’m actually glad it slipped out. It’s just as well because I want her to know how I really feel. She pivots toward the kitchen.

  “Why don’t I get us both a drink?” she says.

  “Is it all right if I put on some music?”

  “Music’s good.”

  Wandering over to the bookshelf, I can’t believe my Freudian slip about being home. As my index finger runs across her extensive music collection one CD stands out among the others. I stop there, index finger pointing, and remove it from the shelf.

  What are the chances?

  Inside the kitchen, Lori finds the appropriate glasses inside a cabinet. She holds out a bottle of Canadian Club for me to see.

  “With Seven?”

  “Perfect.”

  Lori places the drinks on a serving tray. Tucked away behind the knife holder and concealed in a vial inside a sugar canister, are the tranquilizers she uses to disable her victims. Emily’s voice beckons her.

  Kill him mommy, so it’s just you and me again.

  As Emily’s voice fades, the other insists.