The Last Hope

by C. C. Jameson

They walked a few blocks in a mix of awkward silence and the two of them talking at once, reliving old memories, but only the happy ones. By the time they reached the nearest pub, Kate felt much more comfortable, and Luke appeared less awkward.

  “Your stutter is gone,” she said.

  “I have it under control most of the time.”

  “That’s good. I remember how much kids used to tease you about it.”

  They took a seat at a table, and Kate ordered two pints of Guinness for them.

  “My favorite. How did you know?” he asked.

  “I still remember your dad drinking it all afternoon. I just thought you’d follow in his footsteps.” She paused for a moment, and then added, “How are your parents?”

  Luke let out a long sigh and then said, “Dad passed a few years ago. Bad heart. Mom’s doing all right.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear.”

  A lull followed, and Kate broke it off, knowing Luke couldn’t inquire about her parents. At least she could tell him about her adoptive parents.

  “After that day...” she began, but the lump in her throat threatened to choke her. She stopped to gather her breath and then continued. “My uncle took me in and adopted me. I moved to Douglas. I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch. It was too hard.”

  His eyes softened, and he tilted his head. “I knew you had to leave. I’m sorry I didn’t attend the funeral. I tried, but I was too angry... and sad... and confused. My parents forced me to go, but I only got as far as the back of the room, then I ran out. That was the last time I saw you.”

  Kate forced a smile to help push down the tears that were threatening to come up. “I know... I saw you run out of the funeral parlor.” Trying to avoid the nightmares that would inevitably follow, as they often did whenever she talked or otherwise revisited that time in her life, she changed topics. “So, how did you end up working in the crime lab? Give me the CliffsNotes version of your life. What happened to you during the past twenty years?”

  He snickered a bit. “Well, after you left and broke my heart—”

  Kate kicked him under the table, interrupting a sentence that didn’t make any sense. Had he developed a sense of humor?

  He smiled. “Okay, okay. Finished high school, then went to college, studied biology and got a degree in genetics. Now I’m working on my doctoral thesis. Hoping to finish it this year.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “I won’t bore you with the long title. It’s about genes, chromosomes, and DNA. I spend most of my free time staring at blood samples in the microscope and comparing DNA strips.”

  “Married, children?” Kate asked.

  “No, not for me. Unlucky in love. How about you? How did you spend the past twenty years?”

  “Graduated with a degree in criminal justice, then went to the police academy. When Aunt Lucy’s health started to decline, we moved closer to Boston so she could have access to better healthcare. I like being a BPD cop, but I’m hoping to become a detective someday. Hopefully, sooner rather than later.”

  “Interesting. How’s your aunt doing?”

  Kate’s smile disappeared; she still missed her. “She passed ten years ago.”

  Luke paused and placed his hand on her arm. “Sorry...” Then, he promptly yanked back, almost as if he’d touched a hot iron. “Married?”

  Kate forced a grin back onto her face. “Divorced, but no kids, so that made things easier.”

  “Recently?”

  She nodded. “Almost a year ago.”

  The waitress arrived with their beers. After clinking glasses and toasting to their unexpected reunion, Luke resumed the conversation. “So, you said you heard my name today?”

  “Yes. Capt. Cranston has allowed me to sit in with the detectives that are on my uncle’s case. They mentioned your name, and given how much you liked to dissect frogs and such, I thought it could be you.”

  “Your uncle? What case?” he asked, then his eyebrows moved up, and he gasped. “Wait... Murphy?”

  “Yes, my uncle’s been accused of murder.”

  He shook his head, and the expression in his eyes became that of a doctor about to announce the worst of news. “Sorry... the match is almost certain.”

  “Yeah, I heard,” Kate said before letting out a long sigh. “But I know he didn’t do it, so I want to discover how his blood made it to the crime scene.”

  “Blood and hair samples were a match,” Luko said. He placed his hand on Kate’s and squeezed.

  She looked into his eyes. “Kenny is all I have left.”

  Luke clasped a little harder. “No, you’ve got me back now, so you’ve just doubled your support team,” he said, smiling.

  She placed her other hand on his and clutched it, avoiding his gaze as she felt tears trying to escape. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, pushing the tears back. She appreciated his comment.

  No. Appreciation wasn’t it.

  She’d desperately needed to hear those words. From anyone. It was good to have a friend again. She re-opened her eyes and shot him a big grin. “How about we get some food? I’m starving.”

  A couple of beers and a large plate of nachos later, they were back to their old selves, the two kids who could tease each other about everything and laugh it out. Well, almost everything. They were adults after all, so they probably held back on some aspects of their lives. At least Kate did.

  Doesn’t everyone do that?

  They exchanged phone numbers and a long hug before parting ways.

  This time, the hug felt good, like a warm blanket on a chilly night, and there was something else there.

  Kate was about to set her alarm on her phone when she saw she’d received two new text messages while in the shower.

  Tonight was fun.

  Glad you tracked me down :P

  Your Luko

  Talked to Smitty. We’re good.

  I’ll take your shift tomorrow.

  Enjoy my evening shift.

  PLEASE be nice to my partner.

  Great!

  She wasn’t sure which of the two messages excited her more. But Kate was in a good mood, so she sent them both a smiley face.

  Chapter Four

  June 25, 2015

  Kate Murphy

  Roxbury Police Station, Boston

  This time, Kate was present when the detectives started their review of the case. They began with how the murderer could have reached the crime scene.

  Detective Rosebud pointed to the city map first. “Murphy could have taken the number 14 bus, with two transfers, to make it to the victim’s house. Here’s the most probable course of action: he left home at 6:20 p.m. and got to the victim’s house around 8 p.m., depending on how fast he walked.”

  Rosebud moved on to the pictures of the victim’s house.

  “He snuck around the bush to avoid being seen and stuck to the asphalt walkway or adjacent gravel, which didn’t leave much in terms of footprints. He entered the house through the bathroom window, which is accessible by first climbing on low storage bins, then the shed. He waited somewhere in the house, maybe the closet or the guest bedroom, until the victim went to bed, at which point he attacked him with a pillow and suffocated him.”

  Rosebud went to the crime scene pictures.

  “The accused’s hair was found on the pillowcase, along with a single drop of blood. Maybe his nose bled from the excitement, or he could have had a small knick in his finger or something. He’s diabetic and has many puncture points on his fingers from taking his blood sugar, so that’s highly possible.”

  He then pointed back to the city map.

  “The murder would have occurred before 10:30 p.m., which gave the killer enough time to catch his bus and the two transfers required to make it back to his house. He would have been back home by midnight. He left the TV on before leaving the house and turned it off when he returned, so his neighbors would assume he was home all night watching TV, as usual.”

  “Autopsy says the death
occurred between 9:00 and 11:00 p.m., so that works,” Wang said, looking at a printed copy of a report that had been left open on the table.

  “Anyone come up with a motive?” Fuller asked.

  The detectives all shook their head.

  “I found one, but it’s far-fetched,” Fuller continued, taking out his notepad. “The victim and accused attended the same school back in 1952. The victim may have said something to the accused or bullied him throughout his school years. Nobody took notice of that stuff back then. No way there would be records to prove or disprove it. The accused may have wanted to take revenge for past behavior. Considering his previous arrest for attacking a stranger in a bar, it’s plausible.”

  “What?” Kate exploded. She’d listened to them quietly until now, without butting in, although none of it made sense to her. “The accused is old and frail. You’ll have a hard time convincing a jury that he’s fit enough to walk between that bus stop and the victim’s house, let alone climb up to that window. It takes strength to choke someone to death with a pillow. And revenge for being bullied as a kid? Why now? I don’t buy it at all.”

  Chainey rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Here we go. Crazy train arriving at the station.”

  Rosebud and Wang stayed silent, expressionless as poker players before turning their attention to Fuller.

  “Maybe, after many years of looking for him and planning his revenge, he finally discovered where he lived,” Fuller said, obviously annoyed. “Wallflower, can you explain the presence of his DNA at the crime scene?”

  “How about someone placed that pillow there? Could someone have planted the accused’s pillow at the crime scene?” Kate asked.

  Wang replied before Fuller could, with a voice much calmer than both Kate’s and Fuller’s. “It matches the other pillow at the victim’s house. It’s part of a set of new memory foam. The accused’s pillows are musty feather-filled ones. Not possible.”

  “Other than the pillow-planting theory, does our Wallflower have another stupid explanation for Murphy’s DNA being at the scene?” Fuller asked, shooting Kate an angry look.

  She shook her head.

  “Then shut up or get out,” Fuller barked.

  Kate remained quiet through the rest of the case review. They covered the transcripts of the original interview with Kenny, and the most recent one, where they confronted him with their version of how it happened.

  Kate’s nails were close to drawing blood from her clenched fists. No matter how hard she flexed her jaw, bit her tongue, or tried to control her breathing, she couldn’t ignore the guilt that was overtaking her. She was failing her uncle, but that feeling was nothing compared to how much she wanted to smack Fuller in the face for the way he was treating her.

  The detectives tidied up a few more loose ends that seemed inconsequential for Kate, and then they broke for lunch.

  Kate remained the outsider. She had to leave the conference room but wasn’t invited to join them to eat, so she grabbed an egg-salad sandwich from the machine in the lunchroom and ate it in the hallway, not too far from the conference room. She didn’t want to miss them coming back in.

  After gulping down her food, she started hating herself for being so naive. She should have followed them out to eat anyway. She was wasting time here, and they were probably finalizing their case in the coffee shop, or wherever they’d gone.

  She needed to do something to busy her mind, something to make her feel better. She took out her cellphone and sent Luke a text message.

  I had fun last night.

  You haven’t changed a bit.

  Glad to have my friend back.

  It wasn’t a minute before her phone vibrated with a reply:

  Glad to have you back in my life.

  Text me if you want to hang out.

  She sent him a reply:

  Will do.

  Have a great day ;)

  The detectives came back two hours later, which all but confirmed Kate’s suspicions that they had continued their discussion privately. But there wasn’t anything she could do about it now. Instead, she had wasted her “free” time playing Candy Crush ad nauseam and reading an e-book she had downloaded to her phone.

  By 3:30 p.m., Kate realized she wasn’t going to hear anything new from the detectives. Two of them were off to the funeral to make sure there weren’t any other possible suspects.

  Attending the burial ceremony was just being overly cautious. They were ready to close the case. The detectives had everything they needed to go to court now, even though their motive was flimsy at best.

  She left and went to her locker to change into her uniform for her evening shift. It was going to be a long night.

  Kate saw Mansbridge going off his shift as she came out of the locker room.

  “Thanks, Mansbridge,” she said.

  “No problem. Do you want to switch shifts tomorrow, as well?”

  “No, I don’t think I’ll have to, but thanks again. I owe you one.”

  “No worries. Stay safe out there and take care of Smitty. He’s a good partner.”

  The evening shift with Smitty was interesting, to say the least.

  He was a good-looking man. Tall, tanned, dark-brown hair, blue eyes, and a slight Italian accent. He was a good cop. Followed procedures to the T, even though he was in constant flirt mode with Kate in the car. It felt good to know he was by her side when they answered a call on a suspected drug deal that ended up with the discovery of a small meth lab.

  “So, you’ll be spending the night with me tomorrow?” he asked with a smile.

  “No, you’ll have Mansbridge back.”

  “Too bad, I was starting to like you, Murphy. You’re not as grumpy as they say. Quiet? Sure. But I trust you’d have my back. And you’re wrapped up in a nice little package.”

  “Come on...”

  “What?”

  “Stop it. You’ve been flirting with me all evening.”

  “Italian blood. Can’t help it. You’re a hot little thing. And single, right?”

  Kate rolled her eyes. “Single, but not looking.”

  “Too bad, but if you hang out with me some more, you might change your mind.”

  The radio crackled, and he went back to police business.

  Kate’s sleep only lasted a couple of hours and was interrupted by nightmares of her and Kenny being out in a snowstorm.

  The blizzard was thick. She could hear Kenny a dozen feet away from her, but the winds were too powerful, and his frail body couldn’t fight the gusts. She was doing everything she could to reach out and grab him, but the snow was pushing him closer to the cliff.

  He fell down, his body plunging two hundred feet toward the sharp rocks where the frigid waves exploded.

  She could hear his short cry for help, but there was nothing she could do to save him.

  She awakened in a sweat, her heart pounding hard in her chest.

  On Friday morning, Kate went about patrolling on her own, her head and heart both miles away from work. After stopping two drivers for traffic violations, she answered a domestic violence call to find a nasty surprise.

  She’d parked her patrol car in the street and entered the apartment building. Someone had conveniently left the front door open while their belongings were being moved into the building.

  She’d gotten off the elevator on the fifth floor and was approaching apartment 5F, as indicated by the radio dispatcher, when she recognized the voice of the man yelling behind the door. She’d heard it too many times. But for once, it wasn’t directed at her.

  Matt. Damn Matt.

  She didn’t want to deal with her ex-husband right now. She listened in for another minute or so, then heard the sound of a woman, another voice she would have gladly forgotten for the rest of her life.

  Couldn’t he have left town and let her and the rest of womankind be?

  She backtracked to the elevator and pressed the button on her radio to request another unit.

  Kate walk
ed back outside, and another patrol car arrived within minutes.

  A husky red-haired man came out of the driver’s side and approached Kate.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” he asked.

  “Apartment 5F. Violent man fighting with his girlfriend.”

  “What’s wrong? Can’t handle it, Murphy?” the officer asked, a smirk on his face. He shared a complicit look with the trainee who’d just exited from the passenger side of their police vehicle.

  “Believe me, I can handle it,” Kate said, then glanced at the name tag on the officer’s uniform. “Clancy. Listen, we don’t know each other, but here’s why I don’t want to take this call. This domestic violence case is my ex-husband and the woman he cheated on me with. So, if it’s fine by you, I’d rather not see this son of a bitch again in my life. I’m afraid of what I might do to him if I get the chance. So, please. Please. Go ahead and arrest that asshole. Nothing to worry about with the woman. She’s a pushover. That’s how he likes them.”

  “You’re full of surprises. Explains the bitterness,” Clancy said, the smile now gone from his face.

  Although Kate wanted to, she refrained from saying anything more. Bad night’s sleep or not, people made it clear why she wasn’t partner material. It was becoming more and more apparent she needed to work on her people skills. Clancy was still staring at her.

  “Are you good? You’ll handle it?” she asked, anxious to get away from the situation.

  “Of course, Murphy. There’s a Starbucks right over there,” he said, pointing at the street corner. “It’s got a good view of the building entrance, in the event I decide to take him to the station and you want to watch.”

  “No, thanks, I’d rather try to forget what he looks like.”

  “As you wish. We’ll take care of it,” he said, nodding toward his trainee.

  “Thanks, Clancy,” Kate said, then, with the bitterness comment still hanging in her mind, she took the time to smile at him. She added, “I owe you one.”