by Caleb Meeks
“Is that the story?”
“Excuse me?” Newman looked puzzled.
“That’s what they’re saying happened?” His confusion deepened.
“That’s what everything points to. Do you have a different story?” He challenged.
“I just might. But, I will preface it by saying it doesn’t surprise me that’s the conclusion that was drawn. There wasn’t much evidence to say otherwise. Still, I do have another story to tell.”
“Why should I believe you? Good guys and bad guys don’t have a history of trusting each other.”
“That’s a good point. But what do you have to lose, I mean it’s not like you’ve got anywhere to be.”
He let out a small chuckle, which seemed to immediately shock him. “I guess you’ve got a point.”
“Four years ago, I did turn myself into your very own police station. What people don’t like to believe is that I was turning myself in. In exchange for some very valuable information, I was fully planning on turning myself in and going a different direction. However, there were others who had different plans. They put me in a room surrounded by guards…you know the story. I’m sure you’ve seen the room. I was sitting there, eager to speak with a superior, work some things out. One of my associates caught wind of what I was doing and didn’t like that I was planning to switch sides. In a matter of a couple minutes, there was an explosion, guards pouring in, and a lot of bodies. They didn’t even get a single shot off, everyone hit the ground before any of us knew what was going on.” I stood up and lifted my shirt halfway up my stomach to reveal one of the scars. “Your men weren’t the only target, though they surely got hit harder. For that, I am sorry. After they stormed in and dispatched your men, they grabbed me, and headed back out the door they had come in. I still remember walking past these two men on the way out. The fifteen guards were dead almost immediately, but these two had to live through it all. A man came down the stairs just as we were leaving. I never saw his face, but I’ve come to know him as Jonathan Martin. So, from there, we left. That associate I mentioned beat me within an inch of my life, but, somehow, I’m still here. And, now, we’re here. So, while you have absolutely no reason to believe me, that’s my version of the story.” The young man didn’t say anything but was clearly taking in everything I had just said. Whether or not he took it as truth was not determinable, but he was thinking hard.
▪
Cadman drove to the station. It was the only place he could think to go. When the case was less urgent, it was easy to keep it under wraps. However, now that the case involved the disappearance of an officer, it was time to take it more public.
He pulled into the parking lot and threw his car into the closest space he could find. His heart was racing, so he wasn’t giving anything much thought other than finding his partner. The receptionist at the front desk greeted him. “Hello Detective Cadman, how’s your day going?” He walked right past her, not even aware of her greeting. His mind was set on one thing, and one thing only. The room in front of him was full of people going about their daily tasks. He had to get all of their attentions, which meant he had to make a spectacle of himself. There was a large desk at the head of the room.
He climbed on top of it, which worked to get the attention of most of the room. “Excuse me, everyone, can I have your attention?” What small part of the room that wasn’t already staring at him concernedly turned to watch him. Cadman noticed his superior, the chief, look up, and immediately jolt out of his chair.
“Leo, what are you doing?” He practically snarled through clenched teeth.
“What you should have done a long time ago.” The chief’s expression changed from seething anger to intense panic. “Matthew Newman, a very good friend of mine, and a very valuable member of this police force, has gone missing.” Sharp inhales filled the room. “And, I think I know why. Seven years ago, a case opened. That case has gone on to become a very high-profile criminal case. Very, high-profile. I transferred to this station in order to spearhead the newest task force to take on the case. That task force ended up being me, as well as Matthew. Not long ago, Matthew and I had a run in with the criminal that started this whole thing. We call him Judas. During that interaction, I think Judas may have grown attached to Matthew, and when Judas becomes attached to people, it never ends well. If anyone remembers the incident that happened four years ago, here in this very building, then you have a very small understanding of what he’s capable of. Now, there’s a lot to this case, and I couldn’t try and flesh it all out for everyone, even if I tried. There are case files upon case files, and I know this because I have read every single one with the help of Matthew Newman. I know that this is a lot to take in, and I know it’s really nondescript, but I believe it’s time to start taking this case as seriously as it needs to be taken.” He stopped and pointed accusingly at the chief. “And, if you had taken it more seriously in the beginning, my partner might not be missing. I can answer as many questions as possible, but this case needs full attention. Let’s go.”
▪
“What happened to your face?” I asked the still stunned officer. He still hadn’t said anything since I had told him the actual truth about the truth he had been believing, so I decided to try and stimulate something out of him.
Slowly, he unglazed his eyes, and looked up at me. “I’m sorry?”
“Your face. What happened to it?”
“Your mother.” He stated.
I laughed out loud in his face. He was taken aback slightly. “Wow, interesting. How is she doing?”
“Well, she’s in a mental hospital. Oh, and she really doesn’t like your name. That’s what happened to my face.”
“Yeah. Mommy issues…and daddy issues, guess I’ve got the whole package, don’t I?” I laughed again.
“What happened to you, Judas?” His tone shocked me. It wasn’t cynical but sounded genuine. Interesting.
“While I doubt you care, I guess I’ll tell you. Where would you like me to start?”
“The beginning is a good place, generally.”
“Fair enough.” I leaned back in my chair, preparing for the long life story he had asked for. I guess it starts back around age six or seven. That’s when I start remembering it, but it probably started before that. Uh, daddy was a druggy, and mommy was defensive of the druggy. Though, to give daddy some slack, he wasn’t always into drugs, that happened later. Abusive, however, was a different story. For most of my early childhood, it was just verbal. However, that changed when I was about twelve, give or take, and then it awakened something in him that never let go. From then on, he was physically and verbally abusive to both me and my mother, which was coincidentally just after he started getting into the hardcore drugs. That lasted for three years, again, give or take. Then, one day, he left. Out of the blue, he was just gone. Me and my mother thought we were finally going to have that life we always wanted. As usual, though, that didn’t last very long. A couple years in, someone decided to come back into our lives. Any guesses?”
“Daddy.” He said, thoughtfully taking in everything I was saying.
“Bingo. He broke in through the window at three in the morning, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t really him who was there. He was on something so strong that he wasn’t in control at all. Or, maybe he was in complete control. I don’t know which one is scarier. Anyway, he broke in, and long story short, I put bullets in him until he was dead at my feet. Fast forward to sitting in the hospital after undergoing an intense procedure from life-threatening blood loss. Another story, another scar. I was trying to get some rest, but wanted to see her, and some more painful memories later, my mother had tried to kill me and was blaming me for the destruction of my family. She never wanted to talk to or see me again. She held true to her promise. I recovered from all that, and one thing led to another.
Now were here. So, I don’t know, that answer your question?” I asked, watching the emotions and reactions flip through his eyes like channels o
n a television.
“Wow.” After thinking for thirty seconds or so, that was all he could muster.
“Not exactly the perfect American life by most standards, but I guess it got me to where I am.” I paused, shocked by the lack of enthusiasm I had said it with. “Whether or not it’s a good thing, well, that’s subjective. But we’ve talked a lot about me, what’s your story? I’d like to say I’ve done some digging and know all about you, but I’ve been a little busy.”
“It’s kind of funny, in a sick way, how similar we are.” He said, subtle surprise on his face.
“Oh, really? Do tell.” I said, genuinely curious. Surprisingly, he leaned back in his chair too. I could tell he was uncomfortable, but there was something about him that seemed unnaturally calm. Almost like there was someone standing behind him with a hand on his shoulder.
“Well, I guess I’ll start at the beginning too, then. My parents never had the perfect marriage. They loved us, both me and my brother, as best they could with all their issues. Derrick, my brother, and I always knew that something wasn’t right with them, but he did his best to be there for me. We were six years apart, so when it started to get really bad, he kind of took over for them. They’d start screaming, he’d grab me, and we’d go throw a football at the park. I’d go with him to the gym, just so I could get out of the house. He’s the one who taught me how to lift.” He stopped for a moment, and I could see the emotions glaze over his eyes. “Around fifteen, I got into some groups that weren’t the best. Mostly drugs, some petty crimes. Nothing too serious. My parents didn’t notice anything, of course, but Derrick knew almost immediately. We had that kind of brotherhood where words weren’t really necessary, and with how much time we spent together, he could tell the difference in me after just a few days. Being the good Christian in the family,” he inflected the word Christian, “he tried to tell me about all the plans God had for us, how, even though I was making all these bad choices, it didn’t have to be who I was. He took me to church with him whenever he could, both in my teens and before that. I always listened, but then went along with my business until the next time I went with him. It never really affected me. Still, even though I was making all these choices, messing up my own life and telling myself that it was payback to those who’d hurt me, Derrick always stood by me. He’d come and pick me up at any hour from drug houses when I’d call, or he’d take me back to his house when I was drunk and high. He was always there for me and managed to weave in his faith and his God whenever he could. I remember the one night…” he paused, “that changed everything.”
▪
Matthew sat on a couch in a dimly lit room. There were four other older men sitting throughout it. The pitch-black darkness had crept in, and was only broken up by the flickering bulb in the roof. His heart was racing because he knew what was happening, but because he knew what was happening, he remained as calm as possible. However, while the man across from him had a joint in his hand, and the man next to him was shooting heroin, he hadn’t touched it yet. There were needles scattered all over the floor, but he wasn’t even tempted to touch them.
“What’s the matter kid?” The man across from him asked. “You’re just sitting there. I think you mighta’ missed the point of this.”
Matthew did his best to relax his tense body. He couldn’t place why he was so tense, but there was something about the way he felt that told him he needed to get out. Derrick was just a call away, but he was too afraid to cause a scene, so he sat, hoping the night would be over soon. “Nothing, just been a long day.” He had started unconsciously tapping his foot on the ground. “When are they going to get here, again?” He peered down at his phone. 2:38 read across the front of the screen.
“No clue. Three maybe. Got somewhere better to be?” He asked, subtle irritation in his voice.
“Nothing like that, just tired of waiting.” Fortunately, Matthew had always been a good actor. He could always get people to believe him, even when he was lying through his teeth.
“Well, only thing we can do is wait. Sit back, smoke somethin’. Relax.” Matthew had seen the older man’s aggression and didn’t want to challenge him. He nodded, and sat back, trying as hard as possible to calm the raging fear that had built up inside him.
The minutes ticked by like hours. No matter what he did to make it pass, it wouldn’t. The twenty-two minutes until three took years to pass. His body’s natural reaction to this kind of stress would have always been to use something strong and pass out like the guy next to him had done. Tonight, however, was different, and it bothered him. All Eric, the man across from him, had told him was that they were meeting some new local dealers for the possibility of a small business transaction. He didn’t like the sound of it, but he’d spent plenty of time around dealers, so he shouldn’t have felt the way he did. He couldn’t shake it, though.
His phone showed the time to be 3:04. The sound of a car door slamming shut rang through the almost silent room. Matthew’s heart jumped at the sound. Not in the way your heart jumps when you see a loved one, though, like how it jumps when you almost get hit by a car or realize a loved one has died. He couldn’t see who had gotten out of the car from where he was sitting but could hear their shoes smacking the ground as they walked to the door. Whatever they were there for, they seemed to be in a hurry about it. He inhaled deeply, expecting a knock at the door any second. A knock was not what greeted them, however. The front door flew open, and an angry looking man strode into the room. Three men followed behind, the last of which was an intimidatingly large man, who was responsible for kicking the door in.
Eric flipped around to face the intruder. “What are you thinking, Santiago?” He grunted through a weed induced haze.
“What, you actually thought I was coming here to discuss real business with you? You’re dumber than I thought you were.” Even through his drugged fog, Eric looked scared, and Matthew was feeding off of it.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Eric babbled.
“I mean, this partnership has come to an end, and it hasn’t even started yet.” Eric looked just as confused as Matthew. The others in the room were either too high to notice or passed out. Matthew, however, was alert enough for all of them.
The man, Santiago, pulled a gun from the back of his belt, and before Matthew had a chance to even move, he had put two bullets into Eric’s chest. One flew through the chair he was sitting in and landed just a few feet from Matthew’s foot. Eric died almost immediately. The men who were standing behind Santiago had disappeared out the door, probably to get the car going. Santiago turned towards Matthew, and locked eyes with him.
“And what are you doing here?” He coaxed.
In total shock, Matthew didn’t know what to say. Eric, the man who he had somehow decided to entrust his life to, was dead and bleeding out just a few feet from him, and his killer had locked onto him. Both heard footsteps running towards the door, just from one person this time. Eyes locked on the still open doorframe, the one person who he didn’t want to see barged in. Derrick.
Derrick locked eyes with Matthew. “Are you okay, Matt?” He panted.
Santiago held up his gun, as if he was calling a pause in conversation. “I’m sorry, relation?” Derrick was fuming with anger, but not at Matthew.
“That’s my brother.” Derrick shot back.
“Cute. Family reunion.” Without another word, Santiago lowered the gun and pulled the trigger. One bullet ejected from the gun and hit Derrick in the middle of the stomach. He sharply inhaled, and slowly collapsed to the ground. The sound of sirens sounded out through the room. “I do believe that’s my queue to leave.” He nodded his head and sauntered out of the room.
Matthew leapt to his feet. His brother had crumpled to the ground, and was holding his stomach. Blood seeped between his fingers even though he was applying good pressure. “Why are you here?” Matthew panted as he hit his knees next to his brother’s body.
“I had to keep an eye on you. Kind of
my job.” He jokingly stammered.
“I’m so sorry. It should be me where you are. This shouldn’t be you.” Matthew said, choking on his own tears. He had stripped off his jacket, and was applying pressure to the wound, but it was still vigorously bleeding through the fabric.
Derrick reached up and grabbed hold of his brother’s hand. “This isn’t your fault. It’s no one’s fault.”
Matthew stopped him. “You’re going to be okay, okay? You’re going to make it through this. You have too. I need you to…” He pleaded.
“Matthew…we both know I’m not going to be okay. You are, though.”
“No, I’m not. You and I both know that. I’m not okay, which is why you need to hold on. You’re gonna’ be ok.” Derrick’s blood had soiled Matthew’s jacket, and was all over him.
“Matthew.” Derrick tried to get his attention. “Matthew, you are going to be okay. I love you, little brother.”
“No, come on Derrick, you have to stay with me. You have to. Don’t leave me here. Come on Derrick. Come on!”
With heavy eyes and slow breathing, Derrick reached up and grabbed Matthew’s hands, pulling them away from his bloody torso. “It’s going to be ok.” Matthew silently sobbed as he watched his brother close his eyes for the last time.
▪
“So, I knelt there on the ground and knowingly lied to my brother that he was going to be ok, while he died in my arms.” A single tear fell from his face onto his shirt.
“What happened after that? Clearly, a lot has changed.” I asked, still genuinely intrigued. It was like something about him made me feel so familiar that I didn’t need to put up a front. It was uncomfortable.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that. The police got there, I underwent a lot of questioning, and I tried to recover. I got myself into a rehab facility, though after your brother dies because of your own bad decisions, it wasn’t a hard thing to give up. During that time, I found myself asking a lot of questions. Specifically, questions to this God my brother, quite literally, worshipped. Things like, if he had loved You so much, and trusted You so much, then why did You let him die? I can’t say I’ve ever been angrier than when I was on my knees screaming at a being I didn’t even believe in.”