Victims

by L. A. Wilson, Jr.

  When Ellis heard the rear door open, he quickly crouched against the wall. There were no footsteps, only the faint rustle of clothing and the occasional groan from the hardwood floors. A shadow moved into the hallway.

  "Police! Stop!" Ellis yelled. His pistol was trained point blank at the intruder. "You knew I'd be waiting. Were you hoping for a surprise? Drop whatever you're holding or I'll drop your ass right now."

  The intruder's gun rattled to the floor.

  "You should have brought Stubbs. I could have got two for the price of one."

  "Then you won't be disappointed will you?"

  A familiar voice startled Ellis from his rear. He started to turn.

  "Uh-uh," the voice cautioned him. "Drop your weapon first. Where's the girl?"

  Ellis didn't drop his gun. His mind was racing. Once he dropped his gun, it would be all over. It was probably all over anyway.

  "There's no girl, Stubbs," He said. There's no manuscript. There never was a manuscript. You got everything when you killed Holly Fisher. I just wanted to see how deep the guilt went."

  Captain Stubbs came closer.

  "So now you know," he said. "Unfortunately, you won't be seeing anything else. You just bought a one-way ticket to join Holly Fisher. Pick up your gun and kill him, Tom!"

  "Why don't you do your own killing, Stubbs?" Ellis asked angrily.

  He started to spin around to attack Stubbs who was closest to him, but before the words had barely left his lips two loud explosions rocked the house. Both men jumped away from the sound defensively having been unprepared for the gunshots.

  Realizing that he hadn't been shot, Ellis moved quickly. He blasted Stubbs' torso three times before twisting to see Tom Marin lying still on the floor.

  A short feminine silhouette that could only be Rachel Fisher moved slowly toward him. She held a large pistol that made her look even smaller.

  "You weren't supposed to be here," Ellis admonished her.

  "She was my sister," Rachel replied.

  She sat in the chair and cried. There was nothing else to say. He understood completely.

  ◊◊◊

  Sometimes the sky in Georgia wept. It wept acid tears that cleansed the world below, but acid also destroys. Acid rain could deliver a slow insidious dissolution of what was once real, leaving behind nothing but a fragile shell.

  Ellis Carver walked slowly and reluctantly to Joanna Thomas’ door. He ignored the rain. He wanted to ignore the entire day.

  Joanna hugged him long and hard unperturbed by his wet clothing. Her face floated close to his. Her eyes were anxious and worried.

  “Oh, my God, Ellis. It’s all over the news. Are you all right?”

  “Yeah,” he sighed still holding her and wishing that she wasn’t so close.

  “Are they going to do anything to you?”

  “No. I’m clean. I was wearing a wire. It’ll all come out in a few days.”

  Her eyes searched his face, and she stepped back. He missed her warmth as soon as she had moved. He walked past her and sat in a nearby chair. He had to tell her that he was at an end. Everyone who may have had the final answers was dead. All that was left was theory and speculation about John’s death, and that would have to be enough.

  Joanna looked away. He tried to read her face. Maybe this was a relief to her, he mused. Maybe it wasn’t.

  “So it was a police conspiracy,” she finally said. “John knew about them, and they killed him to keep him from telling.”

  “It was a conspiracy, but they didn’t kill him. I’m sure they would have, but they were too late. He was already dead.”

  Joanna looked confused, her expression a silent question that she seemed unwilling or unable to express.

  “John was out on Cascade road buying groceries,” Ellis continued. “Was that his normal pattern? Did you ask him to pick up something for you?”

  “I…I don’t remember,” she answered. “I may have needed something for a late dinner. Yes…I think I did. I’ve forgotten what. It was…”

  “You know, John could have been the victim of some random crime—a robbery or carjacking,” Ellis interrupted. “Or he could have been there because someone wanted him there—someone angry enough to kill him for what he had done.”

  His eyes were fixed, penetrating and unrelenting. Joanna fidgeted silently but didn’t respond to what she heard.

  “John was having an affair, Joanna. He was having an affair with Holly Fisher. You were right, absolutely right.”

  She turned partially away, but Ellis could still see the tears. It bothered him, but he couldn’t stop.

  “What did you do, Joanna? What did you do to my friend?”

  “He was my friend too,” she cried. “How could he do that to me? We were married for fifteen years. We had two kids. He belonged to me just like I belonged to him. How could he lay up with some other woman? I was always a good wife. Why did he do it?”

  Ellis could hardly mask his discomfort. He loved Joanna just as he had loved John. He was in as much pain as she was, but he had to know.

  “Did you kill him, Joanna?”

  “Ellis…Ellis…”

  It was the only answer he would ever get. She started sobbing again. His was a question that didn’t beg for an answer. It was a question that was doomed to be answered only by default. They were all victims—Holly, John and Joanna. At least that’s what he told himself. Personal relationships made everything different. Joanna wasn’t on anyone’s radar, and Ellis’ sense of justice didn’t compel him to seek a greater truth.

  He left Joanna crying quietly, because he didn’t want to listen to it anymore, and he didn’t want to keep asking himself if her pain was real. He went home to Maxine where the machinations of hearts and minds were substantially clearer. He gathered Max into his arms. She asked him how his day had been, and they made love. It was as real as it got.

  The End