Eviscerating the Snake - The Complete Trilogy

by Ashley Fontainne

  All of those unanswered questions gave me a raging headache. Devoid of any pain medication for hours, the throbbing in my skull matched the aches I felt everywhere else, so I closed my eyes and tried to remember all the relaxation tricks that Bob was constantly pushing to get me to try. Fifteen minutes later, I was pleasantly surprised that they seemed to be working, at least enough to lower my spiking blood pressure, which helped ease the pounding in my head. I felt my eyelids become heavier as I moved closer to sleep.

  THE sound of Steve’s voice woke me with a start.

  “So, did you convince the doctor with that slick legal tongue of yours to let you go?”

  I rubbed my face with my good hand, wiping the last memory of restless sleep from my mind.

  “He wasn’t too happy with me, but yes, I did. Is it four already?”

  “On the dot. I am never late. Ready?”

  “I need to use the facilities first…then we can go.”

  “I’ll wait in the hallway. Here,” he said, throwing a small bag on the bed. “Audra informed me earlier that I needed to go home and take a shower and change, so I grabbed a few things for you. Put this on while you’re in there if you want to make it to the car unnoticed by the press.” Then he disappeared out the door.

  While I finished my business and dressed in the clothes he brought me, which surprisingly enough fit, I wondered why in the world Steve seemed to be acting so weird. He almost seemed eager to help me, which was not the emotion anywhere close to what I thought he would hit me with. Was I about to walk into a trap at the police station? Looking down at the outfit I was wearing made me doubt that. I was dressed in the uniform of a Summerset cop, complete with shoes about two sizes too large and a hat that looked like something yanked straight off of Smokey the Bear’s head. My legs felt like spaghetti noodles since it was the first time in several days that I had stood on them, but they seemed to be holding me up. My reflection in the mirror caused me to burst out laughing. The killer infiltrates the crowd cloaked as a cop. Classic!

  I stopped laughing when the magnitude of how rough I looked set in. The swelling around both eyes wasn’t too bad, but the coloration certainly was. Vivid shades of blue, green, and yellow started at one temple and stretched across to the other. Even though my jaw wasn’t broken, the formidable fist that smashed into it left a huge knot surrounded by tightly stretched skin. My unshaven face looked like I just stepped out of a weeklong excursion into the wilderness and lost the battle to find shelter or food. My hair was such a mangled mess that it looked more like dried, dark brown mud.

  While I grimaced at the reflection staring back at me, I noticed something protruding from the front pocket and was shocked when I pulled out a pair of aviators. Steve had thought of everything, it seemed, and my disguise was complete. I slid the shades over my swollen face and topped off my new look with the hat. I looked like something out of a zombie movie. The walking dead cop, minus the gun. Yeah. The only saving grace was that I looked nothing like Nick Rancliff, the polished, exquisitely dressed, every-hair-in-place attorney from Phoenix.

  I wondered what my law professors would have thought if they saw me in that getup.

  I had removed the sling that housed my broken arm earlier so I could put the shirt on. I tried to casually hold it across my stomach without looking like I was doing some warped impression of John Wayne. The first few steps out of the bathroom and into my room were an exercise in torment. The jostling of my arm sent spikes of burning fire through me, causing me to bite my lip before I let out an agonized groan. Piper’s face appeared in my mind’s eye then, her own sorrowful eyes staring at me, almost taunting me for being such a wimp. I sucked in a deep breath and forged ahead.

  Steve covered his mouth to keep from laughing when I opened the door.

  “I see my old uniform fits you pretty well. I thought we were close to the same size.”

  It was a good thing I had sunglasses on so he couldn’t read the nasty things running through my mind.

  “My car is parked right outside the emergency room. I checked before I came up here, and there were only a few reporters back there, none of which are by my car. In that outfit, we should be able to make a clean escape.”

  I had to focus all my concentration on walking slowly and steadily so I didn’t respond as we walked to the elevator. Steve must have sensed my mood and remained silent until we reached the doorway that led outside. Sure enough, there was his unmarked unit and reporters milling around the sally port. I felt my chest tighten.

  “Just relax, Nick. Don’t say a word. Just walk with a purpose over to the passenger door and get in as quick as you can. Let me field the questions if any are asked. We might get lucky and slip out noticed if my buddy over there does his thing.”

  I didn’t even have a chance to turn to follow Steve’s gaze before the sound of the ambulance’s sirens screeched in my ears, followed by a team of paramedics rushing through the doors outside. Steve followed right behind them and headed straight to his car, and I was doing my damndest to shuffle right behind him. The blast of hot air felt like I just walked into an oven since I had been inside the cool hospital for days. Sweat dripped down my forehead and trickled down my back, making my nice new uniform meld into me like a second skin. If Steve was just playing a game and planned on taking me to jail, at least it would have air conditioning.

  The diversion worked, and the crowd of reporters moved out of the way of the ambulance which they assumed was leaving and didn’t even give us a second glance. Steve threw the car into reverse and backed out, and in seconds, we were out in the blinding sun and on the highway.

  Steve glanced back in the mirror and smiled, just as the squalling siren stopped.

  “Well, that worked out well.”

  My huge hat fell off in the seat behind me when I leaned against the headrest; I struggled to fight the pain that invaded every spot on me from the motion of the car. Oh yea, driving myself later was going to be fun.

  We rode in silence for a few minutes while I collected my thoughts. I broke the ice, which I am sure he was waiting for me to do anyway, and thanked him for the ride. Then I broached the subject of Piper.

  “One of the things I must attend to is planning Piper’s funeral. Do you know where they have, um, taken her to?”

  Steve’s face hardened, his jaw line taunt as he replied. “I believe the Feds took the body, er, her, to Phoenix. I don’t know if they have finished their investigation as of yet to allow you to claim her.”

  “Do you know who I should ask? I would like to have a service for her as soon as possible. Well, not actually a service, but, oh you know what I mean.”

  “I will do my best to find out for you. While you are getting your car at the station, I will make a few phone calls.”

  “I appreciate it, Steve. Really. You have gone above and beyond your call of duty. And to think I’ve held such animosity toward you law enforcement types all these years.”

  A wry smile crossed his face at my attempt at humor.

  “You aren’t exactly the quintessential lawyer type that generally makes me cringe when they’re around, either.”

  Although I wasn’t too familiar with the layout of Summerset, it became obvious to me that we weren’t heading to the police station when I saw the street sign to turn and we passed it. My heart began to pound and the sensation of feeling like I just walked into a trap hit me once again. Seconds later, Steve turned into the parking lot of a gas station and stopped.

  “I’m going to grab some water. Want any?”

  “Um, sure, I guess.”

  I watched him enter the store and grab two huge bottles of water. As he approached the car door, I couldn’t make out his thoughts for his eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, his face unreadable. Was the ice water in his hand my final treat before he threw the cuffs on me?

  “In case you are wondering, the station looked somewhat crowded. I thought that we might just wait out the stampede. Let the herd scatter, s
o to speak. Okay with you?”

  He handed me a bottle of water. I am not sure what cooled me down faster, the icy container in my hand or my blood pressure dropping back to normal when I realized he wasn’t carting me off to the pokey just yet. I nodded my agreement and sort of just sat there, wondering when I would wake up from the crazy nightmare my life had become. Nothing seemed right. Something was going on, but I honestly had no clue what was running through his mind. The unknown was causing me great trepidation.

  “So, have you read any good books lately?” he asked, the faked nonchalance unmistakable.

  “Excuse me?” I said, almost choking on my water. That’s it, I must be dreaming because my current conversation kept declining into stranger and stranger dimensions that couldn’t exist in the waking world.

  Steve turned the air on full blast and fiddled with the air vents and repeated his question.

  “I asked if you have read any good books lately. Simple enough question. Have you?”

  “Uh, no, I’ve been rather busy for the last several months working on a case,” I said, my smart mouth running on its own motor. Those words were confirmation that I was dreaming because if I were awake, surely I would have the ability to censor the damn thing better.

  “Well, I have, and I’ll tell you, it was a crazy thriller. Full of all sorts of twists and turns. You know…the kind that keeps you up all night reading until your eyes give up and close. One of those nail-biters that make you wonder what you would do if faced with the same situation in real life as that of the hero. The author wrote one particular character so viscous and demented, it was like reading the inner thoughts of a black widow spider while it toyed with a hapless victim caught in its web. Sent chills through me when I read it. It’s a storyline I think you would be able to connect with.”

  What the HELL is he talking about? Oh yeah, you’re dreaming, Nick. Just nod your head; you’ll wake up soon enough.

  “Why, is it about lawyers?” I said, deciding to interact within my own dream. Why not?

  He laughed. “No, it’s about a normal guy who ends up on the receiving end of being blackmailed by a dirty drug dealer. The villain is a heartless maniac whose brain is cold and calculating from years of hardcore drug abuse. The poor hero finds himself caught in a web of deceit and has no clue how he got there or what direction he should take to redeem himself. I really felt for the guy.”

  Steve turned and removed his sunglasses, his pupils mere pinpoints that reflected with such intensity that I just stared back, oblivious to the heat, the pain in my body, or the sweat running down my face. I had just completely gone insane. How hard did Trevor hit me, anyway? That had to be it because there was no way that I was sitting in a cop’s car, in his uniform no less, listening to him tell me some trumped up story that was no doubt about me. Acid trips didn’t produce those kinds of hallucinations, so maybe I was in a coma and I was experiencing the strange images from short circuits in my head. Yeah, that made much more sense.

  “So, are you interested in hearing how the hero frees himself from the crazed blackmailer?”

  I removed my glasses and stared right back, a myriad of questions running through my head, unable to pick out a sane sounding one to ask, so I just nodded.

  “Let me give you a bit of back story first, or it won’t make sense at the end. You see, the hero didn’t know it, but his girlfriend was mixed up with some pretty shady characters from her past—the worst of them happened to be a drug dealer that she grew up with. This particular drug dealer was well known throughout the town they lived. His reputation as a cold-blooded killer was known by every lowlife that crawled through the underworld of the back streets. He used that rep to his advantage anytime he could, snagging people to do his bidding under the threats of harming loved ones or exposing some hidden secret to the world.

  “Enter our hero, who finds out just how wicked the dealer is when said hero tries to rescue his girlfriend. He arrives too late: the poor girl has already been slain. Heartbroken and distraught beyond consoling, he now wants to avenge her death and, without thinking about the repercussions, uses the knife that just killed his girlfriend to stab the low-level thug that slit her throat. He mistakenly assumes that was the end, but what he doesn’t know is that he was caught on tape killing the guy, and now the kingpin is blackmailing him, using the tape as leverage to force him to work as a drug mule.”

  Steve paused while he took a large gulp of water.

  “So, one day, the kingpin confronts the poor hero and demands he take part in a very dangerous drug drop worth millions to his pocketbook but, of course, nothing to the hero. The hero balks at the idea, not willing to partake in such a high-risk affair, but the nasty pusher doesn’t care. He proceeds to lay out his little blackmail scheme, informing the hero that the tape showing him committing murder is set to be released online from his laptop in less than forty-eight hours if the reluctant hero doesn’t perform the task he wants him to. Do you see the difficult position that the poor guy is in? He can’t go to the police for fear of arrest, nor can he stop the murderous fiend that is blackmailing him until he can figure out a way to get his hands on the tape.”

  Oh my god, I’m not dreaming. I’m awake and it’s fucking real! How did he find out? And why is he telling me such a crazed story?

  Then, I came crashing back into reality when it dawned on my overtaxed brain what he was doing and why. Relief washed over me as everything became clear.

  “I can imagine what an awful position that would be to live in. So, what did the hero end up doing? Did he die, or did he free himself?”

  “See, I said you would be interested in this book! You get drawn into the story and can’t seem to escape until you find out how it ends. At least, that is what happened to me. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, getting his hands on the tape. Our hero…”

  “Can’t you remember his name? I’m getting confused,” I said, hoping he would just end the charade and finally tell me what we both knew was the truth: he was talking about my situation with Ethan.

  “Names have never been my forte. I get absorbed in the story. Let’s just call him ‘Ray’ and the dealer ‘Mel.’”

  I didn’t reply, so he continued.

  “So Ray realizes that he only has less than forty-eight hours to figure out a way to get to Mel’s computer and delete the video and find the hard copies of them as well. The problem is, he has no idea where Mel is hiding since he moves from one location to the next to avoid detection by the cops.”

  “Sounds like quite the dilemma.”

  “Yes, it is! As you said, it’s an awful position that Ray finds himself in.”

  He paused again and took another sip of water. My eyes never left his, knowing that the question I was about to ask would reveal to me whether the concocted story was some sick, twisted game of his own or he truly was trying to help me.

  “How exactly does Ray fix his problem?”

  “Well, that was the really interesting part of the book. Turns out, Ray had one friend that he could really trust, a guy that was extremely computer savvy and into hacking. Ray went to him and asked him some general questions about “big brother’s” ability to track someone online, and his anti-government friend fills his head with all sorts of interesting information. All of it ties back to using someone’s online identity to triangulate where they are at any given point, with an accuracy rate of about eighty-five percent. Of course, Ray had no clue what all that meant or even how to use it, but once his buddy shows him how to use social media to track someone, the idea on how to find Mel forms. His friend also tells him that hacking into someone’s computer was rather easy, and compromising their email address is a piece of cake if you have some personal information about your target.”

  I was almost giddy with excitement, the notion that there might be a workable solution to my problem handed to me, even if it was coming through some veiled, fake story. Steve reached under his seat and pulled out a small manila folder and handed it to m
e, nodding once to push me to open it. When I did, I was staring at Ethan Kemper’s arrest history report. A small gasp escaped my mouth as I thumbed through the pages that contained everything I needed to find him. Date of birth, social security number, probation officer’s name, known associates and hangouts—everything. But the one that made everything click and a real plan begin to form was his last known address and phone number.

  Swallowing hard, I looked over at Steve, surprised to find him smiling—a smile that was genuine and not some fake movement of his facial muscles. I felt a bond between us form, one which I knew we would never speak of, yet we would never forget. Both of the women we loved suffered at the hands of Olin, and both reacted in ways that ended up causing a huge domino effect that resulted in lives lost. Violent acts perpetrated by one multiplied like a deadly virus that spread far and wide at supersonic speeds, infecting everyone it came into contact with. Steve recognized, just as I did, that Ethan was a direct carrier of the virus, one that mutated as it was passed from his father to him. Ethan’s strain was even deadlier since it was tainted with drugs and, therefore, made him completely unpredictable.

  I felt myself return the smile to Steve. I couldn’t help but grin. I mean…come on! The lawyer and the cop, partners in criminal activity by the standards and ethics of the world, yet the sense of universal justice overpowering the fact that we were breaking the law. Somehow, he found out what Ethan was doing to me—how, I really didn’t care—and I knew I would never inquire about it. Perhaps he understood the irony of my situation. Maybe he felt that the evil that seemed to pass from one generation to another needed to be destroyed before more lives were harmed.

  I closed the file folder and asked, “So, then what happened?”

  His lips curved up into a wicked grin as he replied, “Well, here is what he did with the information….”

  For the next hour, I listened without uttering another word while he explained in minute detail everything I needed to do to rid myself of the chain that Ethan wrapped around me. I absorbed every word, my own grin just as wicked.