East of the Sun

by Trey R. Barker

  Rory knelt next to Inmate Bobby and felt for a pulse. She spoke into her radio, though that was probably useless. “Control . . . 10-22 the doctor. Get me the JP.”

  —456 . . . Justice of the Peace?—

  “Yeah, damn it. The JP and Major Jakob.”

  —. . . 10-4 . . .—

  “And a detective. And some damned lights, I can’t see anything. Adam 1 if he’s available.”

  —. . . 56 . . . break . . . cannot copy. Will . . . Jakob . . .—

  “Yeah. Whatever, whatever.” Rory had already let go of her mic.

  “Damn it.” Jace backed up a step, then another. Her lips trembled and she bit them, hard, to stop it. She’d seen death, though more since hiring on at ZCSO, but this was someone she’d known. Murderer or not, drug dealer or not, she’d known Inmate Bobby. She’d bought him his little chocolate donuts when he’d done good work, had passed conversation with him when things were slow, had locked his cell at night a few times when work was finished. She wanted to say something to Rory, to ask what was going on, to find out why the world had tilted so precariously out of balance and so many people were dying, but she couldn’t find any words.

  Rory gently moved Jace backward. “He killed Wrubel and couldn’t live with it and so killed himself. Jace, you’re a professional police officer, you have to remember that. Like him or not, and I did, we have a job to do. Now back up and secure the scene for when the others get here.”

  Jace wiped her eyes and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” She backed up, started looking at the scene from an evidentiary standpoint. It would need to be marked off from at least fifty feet before where they first saw the blood. Who knows what Inmate Bobby was doing before he cut himself and what evidence he’d left. And dead in front of them or not, Major Jakob would want the end of the scene marked off another fifty feet beyond Inmate Bobby’s body.

  When she looked back toward his body, Rory was on her knees, looking closely at Inmate Bobby’s bloody left hand.

  “Rory?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What are you doing?”

  Rory stood, took a deep breath, and said, “He’s got a deep cut on the palm of his left hand.” She held her left hand up near her neck, mimicking the wounds. “If it’s in a straight line with his neck, why would he cut his own palm?”

  “Maybe it’s not in a straight line. You’re assuming one wound. Maybe it’s two.”

  “Okay . . . say it is. Why cut his palm first? Or second? Or even at all? Makes no sense.” Rory shook her head. “Seems like a defensive cut, not a hesitation cut.”

  Jace leaned her head back and stared into the darkness, away from Inmate Bobby’s body, stunned at what she was hearing. As she did, an arm blasted out of the tunnel’s darkness and hammered around her throat. It yanked her sideways, quick and harsh, and she dropped her flashlight. It popped off, leaving only Rory’s light.

  CHAPTER 31

  “What the hell?”

  “Shut up.”

  Rory turned instantly, her light in Jace’s eyes. “Jace? You okay? Who the hell—Kerr? What the hell are you doing?”

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  “Let Deputy Salome go.”

  He tightened his grip and Jace’s hands automatically went to his arm. “I didn’t kill him.”

  “Let her go. Now. And I mean right the hell now.”

  “Yeah? Wha’choo gonna do? I got your woman, right here. I’ll snap her in half.”

  “What are you talking about? This isn’t you.”

  “Everything is me, damn it, except the murder. I didn’t kill him.”

  “Kill who?” Rory took a step toward them.

  Kerr tightened his hold around Jace’s neck. He leaned back, putting her off balance. “Not another step. And I mean Bobby. I didn’t kill him. I found him.”

  Jace saw Rory swallow, heard her take a deep breath, and saw her free hand come out, palm down. “Kerr.” Rory spoke quietly. “Don’t let this go bad, okay? We can talk about anything you want to talk about, but first, you have to let her go.”

  “I don’t have to do shit.”

  “Easy, boy.” Jace’s voice was a croak. Kerr was cutting off her air supply but not completely.

  “Don’t tell me easy.” He yanked Jace backward, fast enough that she lost her feet. She yelped and stumbled and tried to fight being dragged, but Kerr’s right arm was a steel band around her neck. His sweat was sour, like a high-school locker-room stink, and she gagged as he dragged her.

  “Kerr.” Jace forced a casualness into her voice. “Don’t do anything crazy.”

  “I didn’t do it.”

  “Kerr, don’t do—”

  “I didn’t do it. Didn’t kill Wrubel, either.”

  Jace worked her fingers between his arm and her throat. If she could get some space in there, she might be able to keep him from choking her. If he blacked her out, God knew what would happen.

  “Stop it or I’ll snap your neck.” He jammed his knee into the back of her thigh and pulled her further off balance until he was the only thing keeping her upright. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

  Jace dug her fingers into the meaty part of his forearm and used that for leverage, both spinning herself and tearing skin. He grunted and she faced him full. When she leaned back, his eyes went wide with surprise.

  “His nose, Jace. Take out that son of a bitch’s nose.”

  “Salome, no, I—”

  Jace blasted forward, her eyes nailed to a spot on the bridge of his nose. Just before she struck him, Kerr jerked his body to the side. Her momentum took her hard into the wall. He hammered his arm across the back of her neck and crushed her against the cement.

  “The hell are you doing?” His bellow was like a brick to her head. “I’m not gonna—”

  She shoved off the wall and at the same time, kicked back and up, hoping to catch his scrotum with her foot. Instead, she connected with the outside of his thigh.

  Without missing a beat, he shoved her back against the wall and jammed a scalpel near her eyes. “You want this? This what you want? I’m trying to tell you—”

  Jace jerked her head left and low and shoved out against him again. Somewhere in the dark, she heard Rory’s footsteps pounding toward them. Pain flared bright and hot in her cheek and she saw a flash of red on the blade. She bit back a scream and stopped fighting. She put her palms flat against the wall. “I’m not moving, Kerr. Not moving. I’m done.”

  “Stop, Bogan,” Kerr said. He growled and laid the scalpel against Jace’s cheek.

  Rory stopped. “Hang on, Kerr. Don’t make this any worse.”

  “I’m not even supposed to be here and now there’s all this shit.”

  “I don’t know what that means. What shit are you talking about?”

  “All this shit. All I’m trying to do is get on down the road. I got kids I gotta provide for.”

  “You won’t get down the road by assaulting two officers.”

  Their breath was heavy and loud, roaring in Jace’s ears along with the white noise from the pain in her cheek.

  Kerr said, “I didn’t kill Bobby. And he didn’t kill Wrubel.”

  His words lay there, roadkill brought to an elegant dinner table. But his body had stiffened when he spoke, his breath more ragged.

  “He did kill Wrubel. His cell was covered in blood. The evidence is pretty clear.”

  He laughed and mumbled.

  “What?”

  “I’m telling you Bobby didn’t kill Wrubel.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “You found him, Deputy; was he bloody? They was blood everywhere. I had to clean it all up, I know how much was there. How Bobby gonna gut him and no blood get on Bobby?”

  He’s lying. I don’t hear any deputies coming to save us and he’s lying.

  Bibb had heard some version of a call for help. He’d heard some version of injuries, though he might not know if it was officer or inmate. He’d heard something and Bibb wouldn’t let them d
own. Bibb wouldn’t assume it was okay. Bibb would assume the worst and send the armies of the world to save them.

  Until then . . . we’re alone.

  Rory had once told Jace, in Jace’s very first hours on duty, that if Jace was ever completely alone, it would be because Rory was already dead. Across the room, her face nearly lost in the darkness, Rory was not dead. Instead, her eyes were pools of anger and helplessness, but no fear. She was thinking, Jace understood. Figuring out how to save me.

  Jace almost laughed. Rory was absolutely convinced of her own invincibility. A dash of ambition didn’t hurt, either, and despite the fear gnawing in Jace’s gut, watching Rory made her feel safer.

  “Bobby was my friend. I’ve known him since we were in high school. He done a lot of bad stuff, but not that.”

  Jace pointed at Inmate Bobby’s body. “That looks like remorse and regret to me.”

  Kerr looked. His eyes misted and his hands loosened on Jace. “That’s my fault. I killed him. Shouldn’t’a called.” He stood tall and took a deep breath. “I killed Bobby.”

  “Kerr.” Rory took another small step.

  With a flick of his wrist, the blade nipped at Jace’s cheek. There was no pain and Jace assumed it slipped into the first cut or her adrenaline was overpowering it. “I’ll kill her.” His voice boomed through the tunnel. “I’ll fucking kill her. I’ll do her up like the fucking Christmas turkey.”

  Rory stopped. “No you won’t.”

  “Yeah? You sure about that?”

  “Yeah, I am.” Rory lowered her voice, forcing him to strain to hear her. Behind Jace, he leaned forward the slightest bit. “Because that’s not you. Failure to pay child support? Come on, that’s not a murderer.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “No, I don’t, but I know you have a medical degree. I know you want to get outta here and get back to your older kid and the one on the way. I know that a man who wants to make good for his kids doesn’t kill cops.”

  “Shut the hell up. You don’t know shit.”

  “Kerr . . . I see the intake files, I know what’s what. You work cash jobs. Why? So you can give your son cash and so you can buy him clothes and food and whatever else. You do it that way so your ex can’t garnish your wages.”

  “She’s a junkie,” Jace said. “We all know that. And you’re doing the best you can do for your son. If she gets your wages, she shoots them into her arm. You are not a violent man. A man who works healing people is not a violent man.”

  “I told you I killed Bobby.”

  “I’m not worried about that right now. I’m worried about you killing me, okay? Straight up, that’s as honest as I can be.” Jace took a deep breath. Warm blood ran from her cheek, down her neck, and cooled between her t-shirt and vest. “And don’t cut me anymore, okay? You know I’m a wuss when it comes to pain. If I stub my toe, I’ll be out for six months.”

  Kerr snorted back a laugh and the pressure on the blade decreased. “Why they searching Bobby’s cell? He didn’t kill anyone. That blood ain’t Wrubel’s. I heard that cop tell everyone to find Bobby.”

  Biting her lip, Jace silently cursed Von Holton.

  “Bobby’s been gone for a while. None of you high-powered cops even fucking knew. He’s been gone. Sometimes he comes down here.”

  “Why?”

  “Same reason I do, I guess. Sometimes I just gotta clean the jail outta my head.”

  It was, Jace realized, the same thing she and Rory did at Alley B’s. The ladies got banana splits and the boys got a place to hide while still locked away from society.

  “We come down here to do that cleaning in our heads.” He sighed. “I didn’t kill him. I found him dead. But it was my fault.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “ ’Cause I can’t keep my mouth shut.”

  “Kerr, you have to let Deputy Salome go. They’re coming for us and you don’t want them to find you like this. Remember what those ERTs do when they hit a room.”

  The man nodded. “I know; I been on the shitty end of that stick.” He jerked his head toward the tunnel. “I’ll hear ’em.”

  “How’d you guys get down here?”

  He thrust his hips forward into Jace. Between them, she heard the jingling of his keys. “Bobby’s top trusty and I’m in medical. They give us keys to just about everything. I didn’t kill him.”

  “Gotcha. Well, killing me isn’t going to help your case.”

  He hesitated. “I couldn’t kill you, Deputy Salome; you the only one’s ever treated me decent. And her sometimes.” He nodded toward Rory.

  “Sometimes? Dude, I got you yard duty when it was thirty damned degrees outside. Right at the fence line so when your son had his birthday your baby momma could drop him by for a very unauthorized visit. I could’a been suspended for that.”

  Kerr chuckled. “Yeah, you did do that.”

  “You’ve got me pinned against the wall,” Jace said. “You say you couldn’t kill me but you’ve already cut me twice and threatened to do me up like the Christmas turkey. Tell me again how you can’t kill me.”

  “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. Bobby didn’t kill himself or Wrubel. You guys are all wrong. I’m scared shitless and it doesn’t matter what we do here. Okay? There it is. I’m scared like a titty baby.”

  Though he still held the scalpel toward her, he pivoted away until his back was against the wall. “Damn it. I’m sorry, Deputy Salome. You, too, Deputy Bogan. I’m just a fuck-up.”

  The scalpel’s not toward me, it’s toward the room. Toward Rory and the tunnel and the jail. He’s got my blood on him but he’s trying to protect himself.

  Her blood spattered his jailhouse-blue shirt, like bad pop art from a high-school student. For a split second, it amazed her how much blood there was from a cut that had already gone from a sharp, piercing pain to a dull roar.

  “Well, how about you and I figure it out together? Not out there.” She waved a hand dismissively toward the jail. “But here and now. We don’t walk out until we’ve got a handle on it, okay? That’s the best I can do for you right now.”

  Relief came into his eyes. “Yeah. Thank you. But what about—” He indicated her bloody face.

  She shrugged it off. “I’ll tell them Deputy Bogan did it.”

  Both Rory and Kerr chuckled. “They’ll believe that?”

  “About her? Absolutely. She’s crazy.”

  Rory rolled her eyes. “I am.”

  He laughed but the scalpel still hovered. It was coming down, still only a few inches from Jace but moving in a steady, slow arc to his side. As soon as the knife was down, she’d stomp his toe, which would lean him forward. Then she’d knee his face and send him backward, hopefully out cold. It was harsh and brutal but, in spite of her calming words to him, she wanted him unconscious. More than that, she realized, she wanted to hurt him as much as he’d hurt her.

  Rory said, “You said the blood in Bobby’s cell wasn’t Wrubel’s. How do you know that?”

  “Bobby wasn’t the only one with access to that cell.”

  “Come on. A conspiracy?”

  “Ask Deputy Croft; he was on that night. Look, Bobby ain’t no killer, Deputy Bogan. He deals and eats. You catch him, he’ll do his time fair and square, no hassles. He gets out and he’ll sell again and if you catch him . . . fine. We all know what the game is.” He looked at the scalpel. “Wrubel wasn’t selling to nobody and Bobby wasn’t no killer.”

  “Then how did the blood—”

  “The hell should I know? He said he got home last night? Maybe two nights ago, whenever, and the whole place smelled like cleaner. He didn’t have any idea why.”

  Jace shook her head. “Kerr, you’re not making sense.”

  “The night after Dr. Wrubel was killed, when everybody thought Mercer did it.” He laughed. “He’s another one ain’t no murderer. That next night, Bobby said everybody was locked down and his whole fucking cell smelled like Pine-Sol. He told me last night when
we was working the sally port together.”

  “We clean with Pine-Sol.”

  “I know that; I smell it every day. But Bobby hated it so he cleaned his cell with bleach. He didn’t like smelling no forest. Said ‘Gimme the city and the dirty streets and the crack whores and syringes in the damned gutters.’ That was Bobby’s people.”

  Rory took a deep breath. “All that aside, whose blood is that in the cell?”

  Licking his teeth, Kerr said, “I don’t know.” His eyes danced and caught nothing but refused to alight on her. The scalpel stayed up but his free hand crossed his chest and stayed there, holding the opposite shoulder.

  “You don’t know?”

  Kerr shifted from foot to foot. “How would I know? I’m just an inmate.”

  Jace jammed a piece of steel into her voice, stood up straight, and took a step directly into Kerr, shoving the scalpel out of the way as though it were no more threatening than a watery swear from a drunk. “Listen to me.”

  “But—”

  “Shut up.”

  Kerr’s mouth snapped closed.

  “Don’t bullshit me. You’re going to stand here and cut me—twice—and demand I do some sort of investigation and then lie to me?”

  “I’m not—”

  “People lie to me constantly and you’ve never done that. But right now, with who knows how many deputies racing down here ready to go to war because they think we’re dead, you haven’t told me everything. You want something from me but you’re not willing to give me anything in return. That’s not how we play. Give to get. Otherwise, I’ll snap your ass down for attempted murder of a correctional officer, kidnapping, assault, unlawful possession of a weapon, and whatever else I can think of.”

  The threat hung naked between them and while Jace stared hard at Kerr and tried to pry him open, she understood—with a stark clarity that left 50-grit sandpaper in her throat—that she had crossed a line. She was horrified at Laimo’s laughing at Mercer but what she had done with her threats didn’t feel all that different.