by Lyle Howard
29
Even though he was up in his bedroom, Matt could feel the vibration of the front door slam as his grandfather left the house. From his window, he watched the white pickup truck back out of the driveway and head east toward Baymeadows Road.
Matt was becoming used to this. His grandmother was always the mediator, and now, with her gone, his grandfather was unchecked—and worse than that, unhinged. He would be back soon enough, with a case of Budweiser and a carton of smokes. The old man had quit over two years ago at his grandmother’s insistence, but now he didn’t care anymore.
Matt dialed Simone’s number on his laptop and waited for the video to load. As he watched the dotted icon simulate ringing, he wondered what deaf people did before Skype and Facetime. It looked like she wasn’t home, so Matt went into his messenger app and typed out the latest episode between him and his grandfather. He knew she would read it on her phone wherever she was and would respond back as soon as she could.
He was finishing the last sentence when the lamp on the desk began to flash on and off. That meant that someone was at the front door. His grandmother had the notification system installed years ago to make the house more user-friendly for someone who couldn’t hear. She was a great woman, and he would miss her dearly. Matt looked out the window and saw an unfamiliar late model Mustang convertible parked in the driveway. As he bounded down the stairs, he wished his grandfather was home because communicating with strangers was never easy.
Lauren King stood on the porch and rechecked the address. She wasn’t good with directions, but this is where the car’s GPS brought her, and the numbers seemed to match. Even though there was no car in the driveway, King pressed the button repeatedly. She was just about to turn away when she heard footsteps inside, and the door began to open.
“Hello,” she greeted the young man standing behind the screen door. “My name is Detective Lauren King from the J.P.D..” She pulled out her badge and held it next to her face for identification purposes. “I’m looking for Matthew Walker. Are you Matthew?”
Matt was having a very tough time reading her lips, so he held up his hand for her to stop and stepped out to join her on the porch. “I’m Matt Walker,” he said to the best of his ability, “you are a policeman?”
Lauren immediately identified the deaf speech and nodded with understanding. “Can you read my lips?” She asked, inexplicably stretching out each word.
“Not if you speak like that,” Matt replied, mimicking her slow pronunciation. “I’m Matt Walker. Am I in some kind of trouble?” He asked.
Lauren didn’t know a lick of sign language and now regretted never having taken the course in high school or college. Add one more thing to her “to do” list. “No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m just here to ask you some questions if you don’t mind. If you are too busy now, I can come back. I understand it’s not every day the police show up.”
Matt held out his hand and waited for her to hand over her identification and badge. It looked like the real thing, although he wouldn’t know the difference if it was a fake. He examined it carefully and looked up at Lauren. “Detective King. Hmmm… that’s very cool. Would you like to come in?”
Matt held open the door and let the Detective inside. She was pretty hot for a cop. Lauren walked into the living room and smiled at all the family photos that adorned the walls. The house was very cozy and warm. “Are your grandparents home?” She asked, not realizing that she was a few feet away from the young man and facing away from him. Matt walked up and tapped her on the shoulder. “I can’t read your lips if you don’t face me. Any chance you know sign language?”
Lauren shook her head. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize. If you would feel more comfortable with an interpreter, I can make a phone call and have one here fairly quickly.”
“No,” Matt waggled his finger. “As long as you face me, I can do a pretty good job of reading your lips. It’s much easier for me since you’re wearing lipstick. It helps accentuate your mouth.”
Lauren nodded. “That makes sense. I’ve learned something new already.”
“Would you like something to drink,” Matt asked and signed at the same time out of habit. “Iced tea or some water?”
“No, I’m fine,” Lauren replied with a wave of her hands. “Are your grandparents home? I know you’re over eighteen, but it would probably be better if one of them were here while I spoke with you.”
Matt walked over and picked up one of the pictures of his grandmother and grandfather. “My grandmother just passed away a few days ago. My grandfather isn’t taking it very well, and he went out for a while. Tell me what you want to know, and let me decide whether he needs to be here or not. If he does, I’ll give you his cell phone number.”
Lauren pointed to a lovely cushioned couch. His grandmother had exceptional taste in upholstery. “May I sit down?”
“Oh I’m sorry,” Matt apologized. “That was so rude of me. Of course, make yourself comfortable. I’ll sit over here in this chair so I can face you.”
Lauren sat down and pulled out her notepad from her jacket pocket and crossed her legs. “Do you mind if I take notes?”
Matt shrugged and smiled. “I don’t care, but you still haven’t told me what this is all about. How do you know I’m going to say anything noteworthy?”
Lauren laughed. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait for your grandfather to return?”
“It’s fine that we talk. He’s just been …” Matt didn’t finish the sentence, but the remorseful pause that followed transcended any language barrier.
Lauren felt a lump in her throat. “Matt, I would like to talk to you about the night you were assaulted.”
Matt sat back in his chair, completely caught by surprise. “You mean the night my parents were murdered.”
Lauren nodded. “Is that okay?”
Matt didn’t realize that he had begun to rock back and forth in the chair, but the detective noticed.
“Why now? Why after all this time are you asking me about that night? You’re the first person from the police, any police, to ask me about that night. Why?”
Lauren leaned forward. She wanted Matt to understand every word she said. “No one has ever questioned you about that night? No one from Miami P.D. has ever spoken to you, not anyone?”
Matt shook his head. “I was seven years old, and they presumed I had brain damage. Then we moved. It was a long time ago, so why are you asking me now?” There was anger brewing in his tone. “Why all of a sudden is a detective from the City of Jacksonville, sitting in my living room trying to dredge up my memories from the worst night of my life?”
Trying to diffuse his resentment, Lauren smiled kindly. “If that iced tea is still available, I think I wouldn’t mind a glass.”
Matt stood up and walked quickly into the kitchen and returned with a large plastic cup filled with her drink. Lauren took a small sip even though she wasn’t thirsty and placed the glass on an end table. “Delicious. Home brewed, I can tell.”
Matt looked at her suspiciously. “So glad you like it. Now can we get back to business?”
Lauren wrote one word on her notepad: ‘smart.’ “Is it okay if I call you Matt?”
“’Matt’ is fine with me. Do I need to call you ‘detective’?”
She held out her hand. “No, you can call me Lauren if you want.”
He never reached out to accept her hand. It was as if he didn’t want to touch her on purpose. Instead, he spelled out her name with his fingers and watched as she copied his gestures. Then Matt formed his hand into a ‘C” shape and put it over his heart where a badge would be worn. “Cop,” he said.
Lauren did the same. “Cop. Very neat, I’m learning a new language. Thank you.”
Matt nodded.
“Matt, the reason I am here today, is because I was hoping you might remember some
thing about that night.”
Matt shook his head. “I’ll ask you again, why now? Why has no one ever come to me until now?”
Lauren pouted. “I can’t answer for anyone else. But I’m here now, and I’m asking.”
Matt stared into her eyes almost like he was looking right through her and reached out toward her. “Give me your hand.”
“Why?”
“Just give me your hand.”
Lauren hesitated. “Okay.”
The detective felt like she had been electrocuted. Not the Old Smokey electric chair type of voltage, but enough to make the hair on her arms and the back of her neck take notice.
Matt’s eyes rolled up into his head, and he began to tremble. The tremors only lasted a few seconds until Lauren yanked her hand back. “What the hell was that?”
“You are very good at your job, but in your eyes, others resent you at work for rising too far too fast. You are very close to a heavy, bearded man and his family, but you don’t communicate with any of your own family. You dress in masculine clothes to fit in, but if you had your way, you would wear leggings and a workout top. You love music, but you can’t dance, although you spent hours as a teenager in front of a mirror practicing dance steps. You had a dog, but you really wanted a pot-bellied pig. The scar on your stomach is from an emergency appendectomy that you had right before joining the force. You’ve never shot your gun except at target practice. You don’t even like guns.”
“STOP!” Lauren screamed. “How do you know all of this?”
Matt leaned forward until he was mere inches from Lauren’s face. “Someone should have asked me about that night before now!”
Lauren hadn’t noticed that her notepad had fallen to the floor. “I don’t understand…”
Matt leaned back in his chair. “Not brain damage, brain enhancement. And if you tell anyone about this, first, they’ll think you’re crazy, and second, I’ll deny it.”
“How is this possible?” She stammered.
Matt tapped the side of his head. “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. I just don’t know which is which yet.”
Lauren put her hand over her mouth which Matt immediately asked her to move. “You’re a clairvoyant? A mind reader? There’s no such thing. How did you know all of that stuff about me? I’ve never met you until fifteen minutes ago. What you did is…I’m speechless, I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s pretty freaky. It started a few years ago. I’ve been to a few doctors, but I won’t do it when they ask me to. I don’t want to be used as a guinea pig in some government lab. I’ve read enough Stephen King books to know what happens when they find out what you can do.”
“So why did you show me?” Lauren asked.
Matt shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m a pretty good judge of people, and I trust you. I think you want to find the man that killed my parents and that means a lot to me. If I can use what I’ve been given to help find the truth, then I was given this power for a good reason.”
“So how exactly does it work?”
“I call it ‘tracing,’ for lack of a better name. It actually has a scientific name, psychometry. I looked it up.”
Lauren picked her notepad off the floor and Matt grabbed it out of her hand and tossed it on the coffee table. “No notes,” he warned her.
She pulled out her phone. “Do you mind if I Google the word?”
“Don’t bother,” Matt said. “I’ve memorized it. ‘The ability or art of divining information about people or events associated with an object solely by touching or being near to it.’ In my case, I have to touch it.”
Lauren thought for a moment. “So you can see into an object or person’s past, but not the future. So you’re not like a fortune teller or a medium.”
Matt squirmed a bit in his chair. “I don’t know what I am. I just know things.”
Lauren looked astonished. “That’s amazing. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes....”
“So now you are a member of a very exclusive club, and I expect it to stay that way. Remember, you can’t prove what I can do.”
“I understand, I’m just in shock still. Do you realize how many unsolved murders you could crack just by touching the murder object?”
“Don’t you think I’ve considered that? Do you know what would happen if people knew what I can do? I would be dead in a week. Don’t you watch the news? The world is going crazy!”
“But you could help so many people,” Lauren cut in.
Matt began wringing his hands. “There is no way I could ever go public with this. Now, if you want to know what I remember about that night, I’ll be glad to tell you, but otherwise please don’t ask me for more than that. I don’t know if what I’m seeing is the actual past or just a person’s personal version of their past. Think about it, there’s a huge difference. I’ve given myself migraines considering the possibilities and the problems. I’m telling you, it’s a curse and not a blessing.”
Lauren could feel the goosebumps on her skin. “You have a God-given power, Matt. My mind is going a mile a minute just thinking about all the great things you could do with your life. I understand your hesitancy, and I swear I’ll never try to change your mind, but I just don’t want you to dismiss all of your options yet. You’re still young, and your point of view might change as you grow older. I’m not saying wiser, just older. Just don’t put up the shutters on all the windows quite yet, okay?”
Matt shrugged. “I don’t know what that means, but okay.”
Lauren picked up her pad again. “So tell me what you remember about that night.”
Matt recounted the events of November 30th, 2005 to the best of his recollection, which happened to be amazingly accurate. It would have been a truly horrifying night for a person of any age, but for a seven-year-old to go through the trauma of those fifteen minutes almost brought Lauren to tears. “So you remember his face?”
‘I’ll never forget it,” Matt said with conviction.
Lauren flipped her notepad closed. “What if I got you a sketch artist, or had you look through mug shots?”
Matt chuckled. “Who, besides you, would trust the memory of a seven-year-old from twelve years ago, who was nearly beaten to death with a baseball bat? Be serious, detective.”
Lauren was about to do something she never did. She was going to trust a man on the first date. This was a big step for her. “Matt, the main reason I’m here is that there has been another murder very similar to your parents. Through fragments of forensic evidence left at the crime scene, we believe our victim was also viciously attacked with a baseball bat. We also have a few more facts that might link the two cases. Would you mind if I call someone else over to ask you some questions? It’s the heavy, bearded man you mentioned before. His name is Toby, and he’s an expert in forensics. A great guy.”
“Like a father to you,” Matt added.
Lauren suddenly felt like she had experienced open heart surgery. “Yes, but please don’t tell him that.”
Matt smiled. “Sure. I think I’d like to meet him.”
Lauren pressed Toby’s contact key on her phone. “While I give him directions, would you mind putting some more ice into my tea?”
Matt took the glass. “If he’s still got the beard, I’m going to have a tough time reading his lips,” he said, heading for the kitchen.
Lauren began tapping her foot impatiently. “Come on Toby, hurry up and answer the damned phone!”
The phone picked up on the fifth ring. “Hey there Kiddo, I was going to call you soon. I spoke with Ensign Hale’s commanding officer, and I may have a lead for you. How are you doing on the Beckworth case?”
Lauren didn’t know why she was whispering, but she was. “Stop talking, Toby. I need you to come to the address that I’m about to text you right away.”
“Are you okay?”
Toby asked, not trying to hide his concern. “What’s the problem?”
Lauren screamed and whispered at the same time. “Just get here fast, Toby.”
“Okay, I’m leaving right now.”
“Oh, and Toby…”
“What?”
“Bring the gas mask!”
30
Waiting for Toby’s arrival, Lauren sipped her tea alone in the living room after Matt excused himself to go upstairs and have a video chat with a friend. From his guarded demeanor and her phenomenal investigative prowess, she surmised he was calling a girl. She could only imagine what that conversation would be about. There was no doubt in her mind that he was talking to someone he trusted. She wondered how many people he had let in on his secret and she asked herself what she would do if she had been granted such an extraordinary gift.
There had to be a downside to having such an ability, she thought, but wouldn’t the good she could accomplish far outweigh the bad? She suddenly felt tremendous empathy for Matt, knowing full well this was a complex burden he carried on his young shoulders every day of his life. Would she give up her sense of hearing to gain this exceptional power? Matt was never offered that choice. There was no doubt that life had a cruel sense of equilibrium. Would a cello virtuoso choose not to play music? Would an artist refuse to paint? Not likely, but Matthew Walker hadn’t yet realized that he was in much the same situation. He was a one of a kind that needed to mature into and develop the power he had been granted. It would take more than her inspirational pep talk to convince the young man that he held more answers than questions—and that’s why she made the decision to involve Toby.
Lauren had never brought up Peter Mason to Matt. The teen was probably too young at the time to even care who his father worked for. She had done her research and learned that Mason had paid for all of Matt’s medical care after the assault. One Brownie point for the millionaire, she mused. He was generous to a fault. What a humanitarian.
The sound of a car pulling into the gravel-covered driveway interrupted the detective’s train of thought. She was glad that Toby was willing to help her out. He would probably have the teen trusting him within seconds, but she wasn’t sure whether someone who had dedicated his life to science would believe or even fathom what he was about to witness. She was about to stand and answer the door when she heard a key turn in the lock. An older man stepped through the entrance and juggling two bags of groceries closed the door behind him. When he turned, he was more than startled to see the detective standing in the middle of his living room.