Chapter 40
Matt couldn’t recollect the last time he’d felt as tranquil, certainly not since before the Dallas incident. He’d had sex numerous times since arriving in Sirius, but it had always felt forced, confined, as he had to hide his true self from his lovers. He had to hide or risk driving them away in fear of revelation. With Jill, it felt natural, right. He held her close and felt her naked flesh warm against his.
“I think I could fall in love with you, Mr. Dales.” She smiled.
He wanted to tell her that he already had fallen for her. Instead, he could feel the barriers start to rise, forcing her out. “I’m not a safe person to be in love with.”
She planted a kiss so firmly on his lips the barriers dissolved under its passion. He kissed her back. “But if you willing to give it a go, I don’t know what kind of future I can promise. Police relationships are turbulent at best.”
“I’m not asking for a future. Just try not to protect me to death.” she giggled and kissed his chest. “I know that as long as I live, I want to be with you.” Her eyes pleaded.
He stared at her face lying on a pillow, smiling contently. Her skin pressed snugly against his. He felt at peace.
“Let’s go away next month.” She said.
“Go away? Where?” the familiarity echoed in his mind.
“Yeah, to the new resort they opened up on the coast. It’s a new dome for recreation. It’s for the ritzy types, but I know a person who can get us a reservation for a week. They actually allow you to fish.”
“Sounds expensive.” Matt heard himself say. “Detectives don’t make that much, neither do teachers.”
“We can swing it” she smiled. “If we only had to worry about paying for one apartment between the two of us.”
“Are you suggesting…”
“Move in with me.” She kissed him hot and passionate. “Or I’ll move in with you.”
“I… that might not be a great idea…I have trouble with relationships.”
“I know you Matt, better than anyone in the world. Trust me. We’ll make it work.” she snuggled up tight. “Just let me here you say yes, even if you don’t mean it. Everything else we can work out.
“Okay, yes. After all this is over and if you still want a damaged old, and most likely former again detective. Then I’m all yours.”
“I know,” she said softly and drifted off to sleep in his arms.
Chapter 41
Matt’s palm alarm woke him early. Jill was up and nearly dressed. “Trying to leave me already?”
“How could I, I’ve waited my whole life for you.” She leaned down and kissed him. “Teachers, though, can’t be late. It sends a bad message and gives the children an excuse to be late themselves.
“Can’t have that.” Matt bounded out of bed and ran to the shower. “Hold on, I’ll walk you to school.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No,” he turned on the water. “Not really.”
Matt felt good. He almost bounced as he walked Jill to her school. The world felt like a much less threatening place than it was the day before. Still, he examined everyone they walked past and every shadowy alcove that could have provided shelter against the eyes for would be ambushers. His mood was jubilant as they approached the school.
“I’ll drop you at the door.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “This is a school, it is completely safe here.
“You sure?”
“It’s broad daylight and there are people around.” She kissed him again. “Besides, teachers have to be respectable. I have to keep my reputation.”
Okay,” he stopped. “I’ll call you when I get off shift.”
“If we don’t hurry neither of us will have to worry about our shifts.” She blew him a kiss and walked toward the office.
Matt had a couple of hours before his shift started and he was famished. He rushed back to his apartment so full of love he hadn’t realized that he’d let his guard down until he saw the note on his door.
DON’T LEAVE HER, DALES.
The note-leaver had been there, watching him. Every hair on Matt’s body rose. They saw him leave with Jill. She was in danger. He opened his door and ran to the vid com.
“Public Elementary School section Beta switchboard.” It took an eternity before an old man standing behind a counter answered.
“Yes, how can I help you?”
“Can you patch me into Jill Cochiti’s room?”
“Are you the substitute?”
“Substitute,” Matt adrenaline surged and he pulled out his badge. “I’m no substitute. Put me through to Ms. Cochetti.”
“I’m sorry officer,” the old man looked down onto a clipboard. “Ms. Cochetti hasn’t arrived yet, nor has she yet to call in.”
“I just left her in front of the school.” Matt’s voice started to show the stress he felt.
“I’m sorry officer, if this is important I can switch you to the principal.”
“Did you call her at home?’ Matt demanded.
“That is standard procedure. I’m going to transfer…”
“Disconnect. Get me Chief Vanderhaar.”
Another eternity later, the screen lit up.
“Vanderhaar.” His former partner looked busy.
“The woman I was with, Jill Cochetti, she’s missing. I left her at school, but she never made it to class.” Matt was almost hyperventilating. “Run a trace. I’m on my way to her apartment.”
“Dales, hold on a second…”
“Disconnect!” Matt yelled as he ran out his door.
He was out of breath when he approached Jill’s apartment. Teams of officers were waiting outside an opened door, making a perimeter.
“Stop!” one of the officer ordered. “We can’t have you contaminating this site.”
“What. I was just here. Where is..?” His stomach cramps hurt so bad he crumbled on to the walkway.
“It’s alright.” Vanderhaar told the officer as he walked out of the apartment.
“Is she…? My God Ken, did he kill her?”
He asked softly. “You were close?”
“Were?”
“I’m sorry Matt. She’s dead.” Vanderhaar cleared his throat. “The message was left on the board. We found the chip on her kitchen table.” He held out an evidence bag containing the bloody device. “It’s hers.”
“I want to see the body. Ken. You have to let me see her.” Matt struggled to his feet.
“We don’t know where it is.” he said.
“No body? She could still be alive, you don’t know.”
“There’s too much blood. Wherever he took the body, no one survives so much blood loss. She’s dead.” Vanderhaar’s tone left no room for argument.
“Some of it could have been the killers. Maybe she fought back.”
“I’m sorry. It’s been tested. It has her genetic code, it’s all hers.”
“No, why would he take the body? It makes no sense.” Matt could feel a sympathetic hand touch his shoulder. He pushed it away and stumbled back. “Not her. Not her.”
He started running for the door as fast as he could, he had to get out of the room, he had to think. There were too many people moving around the room, her room, walking through the pools of her blood. He couldn’t stand it any longer.
The sound of his footfalls on the pavement became steady and rhythmic, like the beating of his heart, like the throng of the crowds in Dallas. The sound of the throng continued to grow as he ran. Soon, all he could here was the sounds of the people of Dallas rioting. He found himself pushing through the crowds of people before him. He had to get to the front of the line. This was wrong. It was a mistake. People would die if he couldn’t get through to the front of the crowd. He ran into the park, pushing civilians away as he did so.
“Disperse,” He yelled as he pushed and shoved. “Food is on its way. Go back into your houses!”
A glint of light flashed above him followed by a loud crack. Matt pulled out his service gun and returned fire; his bullets ricocheted off the city dome. He emptied his gun and dropped it. Then fell to his knees, paying no heed to the fleeing colonists around him. The sounds of the past faded as he collapsed on the grass. It felt warm, as warm as when Jill gave her puppet show. The image came readily to his mind. It faded to be replaced by the sight of her falling from a great height, her body crashing into the park grass with a sickening thud.
When the officers arrived to take him into custody, Matt was weeping uncontrollably. He no longer cared what happened to him, not even when he felt the brutal cuffs cut into his wrists. He didn’t protest or put up a fight when two men pulled him to his feet.
“Jill” he said.
Chapter 42
Matt was unsure how long he’d been in the cell, but he’d had several visits from his psychiatrist, his police advocate, and he’d lost count of the number of times he’d been fed. His career was over, Jill was gone, and he’d most likely brought down the reputation of the man who had vouched for him. He wanted to feel bad about Ken, but he was just numb.
Matt wanted to be left in his cell to rot, he was worse than dangerous; he was useless. He couldn’t even to protect the woman he loved. Somehow, he knew that they would not be so accommodating, without a weapon, he wouldn’t be a threat to the colony. They would let him go and he’d have to face the world, the colonists that he terrified, and he would see the disappointed pain in the face of the Chief.
Vanderhaar eventually arrived at his cell wearing the exact same, soul crushing look on his face that he’d imagined many times as he stared at the blank walls. The thought of hurting his friend crushed what was left of his heart.
“I’m sorry Chief.” It didn’t feel right to call him by his first name.
“Dales, don’t. Just don’t. It was my fault. You can’t run a department on sentiment. I let our past friendship cloud my vision. That and my belief that you might have some kind of psychic ability to catch this killer. Maybe not even that.” The chief’s gaze bore into his conscience. He had the look of a man who had failed when it truly mattered. “I’m sorry. I should never have put you in this position.”
“I did my best.”
“The psychologist report says that you can’t handle the pressure, even with the meds. Honestly, you’ve been having flashbacks haven’t you? That’s what happened in the park wasn’t it.”
“I had to get away. I couldn’t stand to think of losing her, I ran and then I was back at the riots. I thought I was being fired on.”
“It’s a miracle that no one was hurt.” Vanderhaar sat on the edge of his bunk. “Matt, it was pure luck you didn’t shatter the dome. You could have killed everyone.”
“I know. What now?” He dreaded hearing that they would send him back to earth. He wasn’t sure that he could stand the trip. Going through the mind rip again, he wanted to start screaming just contemplating the possibility. He swallowed hard, waiting for a response.
“I don’t know. There will be a hearing. Your doctor’s report will prove you are ill so I don’t think the judge will lock you away, but Dales, you’re days of carrying a weapon, or any kind of badge, those are over.”
“I see.”
Vanderhaar stood up. “I’ve arranged for you to be released pending a hearing. Don’t leave town.”
“Yeah, right. Did they find Jill?”
“Nothing yet.” he responded. “But the blood in the apartment, it was hers.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“I’ll see what I can do for you. Maybe we can find you an office job somewhere. I’ll see you at the hearing.”
“Thanks, “Matt said. “For everything.”
“Yeah,” the chief said and walked out.
It would have been better if he’d screamed and yelled and called him an idiot. It was the compassion in Ken’s voice that hurt more than anything else. It meant that Matt was truly no longer an officer; he was a broken thing to be pitied.
He wondered briefly if a person could volunteer to have their memories burned out. He could wake up every day still a detective, still thinking that he and Jill would be together, that she was alive. He began to envy every burn out he’d ever met.
They released him shortly after his meeting with the chief. He was given his clothing and possessions, sans badge, gun, and uniform. He left the station wearing an ill-fitting grey colonial maintenance unitard that scrounged. It was probably an indication of his future prospects.
He walked slowly toward his apartment; intending to lock himself inside, to become the hermit that deep in his heart he wanted to be. All his things from his office filled a small bag. He looked through it as he walked. There was an old picture of himself and Ken from back in Texas, when they were partners. Several notes, all about private matters, since all the official ones had been confiscated. There was a folded paper in the bottom of the bag. He reached in to open it. Ken was probably trying to say goodbye without the surveillance cameras on. It wasn’t Ken’s handwriting, but he had seen it before, on the door of his apartment.
I’M SORRY, DALES
.
Even though his doctor had him on a heavy regimen of drugs the entire time he was in custody, he could feel himself losing control again. He was out in the open and there was no way to get back to his apartment safely. It was imperative to gain control of the situation. Matt could feel the drugs in his system keeping his emotions from surfacing with full intensity, the intensity that caused him to losing control as he had in the park. Knowing with absolute conviction, however, that an unknown someone really was trying to get you made a fool out of anyone who wasn’t paranoid.
A few deep breathing exercises helped him clear his mind. The psychopath was still watching him, most likely even as he folded the letter and returned it to the bag. That was fine with Matt. Let the bastard come, he wanted to take him on. Out in the open, however, exposed, the odds were not at all in his favor. Why should the killer, bother? The bastard had won. The villain he had defeated Matt in every way possible, except one. Matt would be waiting when he arrived to take his life. Let the killer watch from a distance, until he was ready to turn the tables.
The killer had a head start. Matt found a building with a long flat wall and a lawn five meters or so wide between it and the walkway. He leaned against it under the shade of a tree and studied everything around him. He could escape to the either the right or left if he was pressed. Exposed places meant escape routes and he was studying each of them, as well as his fellow colonists as they walked along.
Once he made it home, he could lock himself in and take more meds to calm his mind and plan his next course of action. It the killer was fixated on him, maybe he could do something to make himself more of a target. Matt wanted a confrontation, he wanted to beat the man to death with his own hands and feel the life slip out of his body. He wanted the killer to know what a horrible mistake they made when they went after Jill. Tears started to well up. He used the loose unitard sleeve to wipe his eyes.
He stood there unmoving for over an hour. A shift change resulted in a dramatic reduction of foot traffic. Soon there was almost no one on the footpaths and he could be certain that he wasn’t being followed.
It took Matt quite a bit longer to get home than it normally would have, but he no longer had anything else to do, so he walked the long way, taking paths he almost never traversed. He went blocks out of his way rather than enter a blind alley. Grassy paths were more open than pavement. He even waited in a small crowd at the train station, just to slip away into a patch of nearby bushes when the train came. He was almost exhausted when he finally reached his door. This time the message read,
THEY ARE COMING FOR YOU. RUN!