Starks' Reality

by Sarah Storme

  “When I met Serena, we were kids. We dated, figured we were in love, and got married. I started college while she worked. Then she got pregnant with our first child. I dropped out to get a job, and joined the Dallas Police.

  “I’d always wanted to be a cop. My dad was a cop. Before he died, he made me promise not to follow in his footsteps. I made the promise, but I knew it was a lie as soon as I said it.”

  Heather’s head moved up and down as Jake took a deep breath.

  “I still remember the first time I busted a kid for holding up a liquor store and saw him back on the street the next day. I thought it was a fluke. By the third time, I realized the system was flawed.

  “Things went downhill from there. I was surrounded by scum all day, then went home to my wife and daughter. Sometimes I forgot to leave work at the office. I started drinking with my buddies. We’d talked about how screwed up things were as we got loaded. Then I started forgetting to go home.”

  He stopped talking.

  Heather listened to his heart thunder in her ear. “That’s when she left?”

  “No. That’s when she had our second daughter. She hated me for getting her pregnant. It wasn’t planned. I was banned from her room during the pregnancy, which was fine with me. I had…other friends.

  “Then, the night Karen was born, I was on duty when I got the call and I ran to the hospital. Serena was in labor for ten hours. I’d missed Becky’s birth, so I guess it hadn’t affected me the same way. For Karen, I was in the delivery room. When the doctor put that tiny little body in my hands, something happened. I don’t know, it was like I suddenly woke up. My whole life changed in that one moment. I had no desire to drink, or to stay away from home. My work was meaningful. I was making the world safer for my children. Hell, I became Mr. Wonderful.”

  Heather snuggled closer, dreading the rest of the story, but needing to hear it. “What happened?”

  “Six months later, she took the kids and left. No warning, just left a letter on the table and took off in the middle of my shift.

  “Not that I blame her. I put her through hell for most of seven years. There was no way to make up for that. But she got the revenge she wanted. I paid the price for a long time.”

  Heather put her hand over his left breast and felt his heart beating too fast against her palm.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Jake covered her hand with his own and squeezed. He kissed the top of her head.

  They lay together until the cool night air drove them to their clothes.

  Heather dressed and accepted Jake’s jacket for the walk home, but before they left, he stopped her at the door and kissed her. She couldn’t tell whose emotion she felt in the kiss, but it was nearly overwhelming. Holding him afterwards, she stared through the window into the darkness.

  It wasn’t as dark outside as it should have been. Heather straightened, then she pushed Jake away, ran to the door, and jerked it open.

  The night sky glowed a violent orange.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, as she ran down the stairs. “Coop!”

  CHAPTER 14

  “Heather, wait!”

  She was through the yard and to the road before Jake got his boots on. He grabbed his thirty-eight and his cell phone on the way out and struggled into his shirt as he ran. Ahead, flames leapt into the night sky.

  Dog appeared at his side.

  “Stay!” Jake yelled.

  The mutt skidded to a halt and turned around.

  The kitchen door was open when Jake reached it. Heather had already disappeared inside. Flames engulfed the back half of the house.

  “Dammit, Heather, stop!” He dashed in, shielding his face from the heat.

  She stood at the entrance to the hall where flames crawled up the walls and smoke concealed the ceiling. “Coop!” she yelled. “Coop!”

  Jake grabbed her arm and jerked her back. “Heather, here.” He handed her his phone. “Go outside and call nine-one-one.”

  She stared blankly. “Coop’s in—”

  He shook her, yelling over the roar of the fire. “Go call now! I’ll get Coop.”

  She nodded and he pushed her toward the door.

  As soon as he was sure she’d left, Jake took several deep breaths and dashed into the inferno.

  The main part of the fire burst forth from Heather’s room, but had already surrounded the door to Coop’s. The door itself, however, felt cool. Jake pushed it open with his shoulder and ran in, ducking under a cloud of smoke.

  He dropped beside the bed, backlit from the hall. “Coop, wake up.”

  But the man wasn’t asleep; he was unconscious.

  Jake grabbed his wrist, pulled him over, and hoisted Coop onto his shoulders. A bottle fell to the floor and rolled away. Struggling under the weight, Jake rose and hurried from the room and the house. Outside, he fell to his knees in the wet grass, rolled Coop onto the ground, and lay beside him, gulping fresh air and coughing out smoke.

  With the clean air finally reaching his lungs, Jake scrambled to his knees and leaned over Coop. He found a pulse and felt him breathing, but the man didn’t stir. His breath was lethal as hell. Jake straightened him out and checked for injuries. He didn’t find anything obvious.

  A siren’s scream filled the air at the same time Heather ran into the yard. She dropped to the ground beside her father and shook his shoulders. “Wake up! Coop, wake up!”

  Jake put his arm around her and pulled her away before she could accidentally hurt the man. “He’s all right.”

  “He’s unconscious.”

  Jake held her tighter. “Heather, he’s drunk.”

  “What?” She frowned down at Coop.

  They both turned to Red’s voice. “Is he okay?”

  Jake rose. “We need to move him away from here. Grab his feet.”

  They carried Coop to the bar and stretched him out on the porch as the fire engine passed.

  Jake squeezed Heather’s arm. “Stay here with him.”

  She nodded.

  Then he trotted back to the house to assist the Port Boyer volunteers.

  ~~**~~**~~

  As soon as Heather knew for certain that her father wasn’t hurt, her fear morphed into fury. She tucked her hands under her arms to stop the shaking.

  Coop sat on the ambulance tailgate, his eyes half closed and his head drooping forward. One paramedic held him upright while the other checked him.

  The orange glow had disappeared, replaced by red and blue strobes, and the fire’s roar had been muted to a series of hisses and pops. Firemen yelled directions to each other over the clamor of the fire trucks’ engines.

  Heather turned to footsteps on the shell parking lot as Jake approach, covered with sweat and soot, his shirt ripped. But he smiled a little when their eyes met. He stopped at her side and leaned back on the porch.

  “Fire’s out,” he said.

  She nodded.

  “Did they find anything?” He motioned toward the ambulance.

  “I don’t think so.” Her voice trembled.

  Jake put his arm around her, squeezed her shoulders, and then released her. “You two can stay with me tonight.”

  “How could he do it?” She choked back tears.

  Jake lowered his voice. “Heather, I told you there would be some bad times.”

  The emotion burst from her like an explosion. “But he could have died! And he burned down our house. Now we have nowhere to live. That’s a little more than just a bump in the road.” She took a deep breath and blew it out as Red Daily approached.

  “Chief, you okay?”

  Jake nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for the quick response.”

  The man shrugged. “That’s what I get paid for.” Then he shuffled around. “Most of the house is gone. Miss Cooper, I’m real sorry this happened. At least it looks like your daddy didn’t get hurt too bad.” Red turned toward the ambulance. “Which is pretty amazing. Most people who get plastered and burn down their houses end up either sc
arred or dead.”

  “He didn’t start it,” Jake said.

  Heather looked at him. “What?”

  “He didn’t start the fire. It started in your room.”

  The anger suddenly drained away, leaving her weak. She grabbed the porch.

  Red scratched his head. “What happened?” he asked her.

  “I...I don’t know.”

  “Heather was with me when it started,” Jake said. “We saw the fire from my house.”

  Red’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Then, how do you know Coop didn’t start it?”

  “He was in bed, unconscious when I pulled him out, and his room wasn’t burning yet.”

  Red frowned. “Hmm. I guess we’ll have to wait for the fire chief’s report to find out what happened. Must have been a short or something.”

  One of the paramedics approached. “There are no signs of injuries, but I’m willing to wager that his blood-alcohol is way up there. At least he’s conscious. What do you want us to do with him?”

  Jake stepped forward. “We’ll take him.”

  Coop smiled at Heather as she and Jake approached. “Hey there, Deuce,” he said.

  He was so drunk, he didn’t have any idea what had happened. Her anger returned. Even if he didn’t start the fire, he wasn’t sober enough to put it out. Maybe he could have saved the house.

  Heather held her father’s wrist and pulled his arm over her shoulders. Jake took the other side, and they started across the parking lot.

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Jake said to Red. “Make sure to tape off the area before you leave, will you?”

  “You bet,” Red answered. “‘Night, Chief.”

  ~~**~~**~~

  Jake nearly fell asleep in the shower. His entire body vibrated with exhaustion.

  As soon as he’d rinsed off most of the grime, he stumbled out, pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt, and dried his hair with a towel. Then, he walked quietly into the living room. He’d tucked Coop into his own bed and the man was already snoring.

  Not expecting to find Heather on the sofa, he jumped.

  She sat up and watched him.

  “The air mattress is more comfortable than the sofa,” he said. “But if you want to trade—”

  “No,” she said, “I want to sleep with you.”

  “Heather—”

  “Please, Jake, at least for a little while.”

  Unwilling to admit out loud that he wanted nothing more than to hold her next to him as he slept, he shrugged. “There isn’t a lot of room.”

  She stretched out on her side. “There’s plenty.”

  Jake lay down, put his arm under Heather, and pulled her head to his chest. She draped an arm and leg over him. He held her and stroked her hair as he inhaled her wonderful scent.

  She fit against him perfectly; she belonged beside him always. His tired brain worked on that thought as he fell asleep.

  Something metal crashing to the floor woke him. Jake raised his head, squinting at sunlight. Heather stirred beside him.

  In the kitchen, Coop picked up the kettle and filled it with water.

  “Heather,” Jake whispered, pushing her hair back from her face. “Wake up.”

  After a moment, she raised her head and frowned at him with one eye closed. Then her frown faded to a tired smile. “Hi,” she said.

  “It’s time to get up,” he said.

  “Why? I’ve got a better idea.”

  Jake grabbed her hand as it started down his belly. “Coop’s up,” he whispered.

  With both eyes suddenly open, Heather sat up quickly and turned to the kitchen. Jake eased out from under her and made his way to the bathroom. He had no desire for Coop to see his reaction to Heather’s touch.

  By the time he returned to the kitchen, shaved and dressed, coffee waited in the coffeepot and bacon sizzled in a frying pan under Heather’s care. Coop sat at the table with his head in his hands.

  Jake sat across from his guest and leaned forward. “Coop?”

  The man raised his head slowly. Pain filled his bloodshot eyes. “Is there anything left?”

  “I don’t know,” Jake said. “It was hard to see in the dark, but I don’t think there’s much.”

  “Oh, Christ,” he muttered.

  “Coop, what happened last night?”

  The man glanced at his daughter’s back and frowned.

  “I know it’s hard,” Jake said, “but you need to be honest with her. She’s tougher than you think.”

  Heather stiffened at his words.

  Coop sighed. “I…was seeing things.”

  “What kind of things?”

  He cringed. “Ghosts. I was seeing ghosts. Man, I just couldn’t take it.”

  Heather touched Jake’s shoulder as she placed a mug of coffee in front of him. Then she returned to the bacon.

  Jake sipped the coffee, and held the mug in front of him. “Start at the beginning. What do you remember?”

  “I woke up. It was about one-thirty or so. I thought I heard voices, then they were gone. I lay in bed for a long time, just listening to the waves, until I realized I wasn’t going back to sleep. So, I got up and went outside. I didn’t want to wake Heather.”

  He ran his hands through his hair. “It was dark outside. Really dark, almost like the jungle. I walked down the road to the dock, then circled around to the shore and followed it to the beach. After a while, I started back for the house on the trail.

  “That’s when I saw them. Two Viet Cong came walking down the trail behind me, holding their rifles. They were dressed in black and they didn’t make a sound. I dropped to the ground. They walked right past me, then turned to the beach. Even when they were nearly on top of me, I couldn’t hear them. I waited for a while before I crawled forward to see what they were doing. When I reached the beach, they were gone.

  “That’s when I realized they were ghosts.”

  He sighed and dropped his arms to the table. “I can’t take seeing ghosts anymore. Goddamn it, how am I supposed to live like this?”

  “Coop, what happened next?”

  The man looked down and narrowed his eyes as he stared at the table. “I ran back to the house and got a bottle out of the closet. I sat in my room and drank it. That’s all I remember.”

  “You didn’t hear anyone in the house?”

  “I don’t think so.” He cocked his head to one side. “I remember hearing Heather move around in her room, but that’s it.”

  “What exactly did you hear?”

  The man shrugged. “She walked across her room, and then I heard her whisper. I figured she’d stubbed her toe or something on the way back from the bathroom.”

  Jake looked over and found Heather staring at him, spatula in hand.

  “What?” Coop looked from one of them to the other.

  “Heather wasn’t in the house then.”

  “She wasn’t?”

  “No,” Heather said, “I was here with Jake.”

  “You must have heard the person who set the fire. I think it started in Heather’s room.”

  “You mean this wasn’t an accident?” Coop’s eyes widened.

  Jake rose and finished off his coffee. “I’ve got a few things to do. You two make yourselves at home.”

  “Don’t you want some breakfast?” Heather asked.

  Jake shook his head. “Not right now.”

  Heather walked over, stood on her toes, and kissed his cheek. The idea of kissing her back in front of her father was a little strange. But they were all adults, so he did.

  “Be careful,” she said quietly.

  He smiled at her, and then picked up his thirty-eight and his hat on the way out.

  He drove the Trans Am next door to the bar, and walked the trail to the house where he found the fire chief from Port O’Donald already on site. Jake ducked under the tape and introduced himself.

  Chief Kazinski, in his late sixties at least, wore a bright yellow firefighter’s coat and a hard hat, and
carried a clipboard.

  “What do you think so far?” Jake asked.

  “Well, I’m sure the source was in this area,” he said, pointing to the hollow blackened shell that had been Heather’s room. “And I’m guessing we’re talking arson, I can still smell a hint of accelerant, but I won’t know that for sure until we’re finished here.”

  Jake nodded. “I’ll get out of your way.”

  He spotted Deputy Sagin standing at the edge of the site, hat in hand, talking to another lawman. Jake walked up and shook hands with both of them.

  Sagin slapped the younger man on the shoulder. “Keep an eye on things,” he said. “I need to talk to Chief Starks.”

  Jake followed the deputy away from the small crowd. They stopped in the parking lot at Coop’s Place.

  “I have to tell you, Chief,” Sagin said, “The sheriff is concerned about what’s going on over here.”

  “He’s not the only one.” Jake shook his head. “It all seemed to start with those damned oysters.”

  “Have you figured that one out yet?”

  “I think so. Your lab has a burlap sack that I’m hoping to find evidence on. If there’s any way to prove it held contaminated oysters, at least I’ll know who’s responsible for Ed Taylor’s death.”

  “Who?”

  “The Johnson brothers.”

  Sagin nodded. “I wouldn’t put that past them. You think they killed Tran, too?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Sagin took a deep breath and looked around before continuing. “Starks, Evans doesn’t trust you.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s sure Boudreaux was dirty, although he could never prove it. Everyone in this town is suspect, as far as he’s concerned.”

  Jake nodded as he studied the man before him. Sagin was Jake’s equal in height and probably only a few years his senior, but the grey hair and start of a paunch made him look a lot older. His dark eyes held a world of experience not shared by most of the cops in the area.

  “Look,” Sagin said, “for what it’s worth, I think Evans is wrong. If you need anything, just let me know.”

  “I’ll do that.” He shook the deputy’s hand. “Thanks.”

  They started back.

  “There is one thing,” Jake said. “Can you swing by the lab tomorrow and see how it’s going?”