After the Evil – A Jake Roberts Novel (Book 1)

by Cary Allen Stone

  “You’ll be okay,” he says.

  He patiently listens to my drunken ramblings.

  “None of it worked out, man. None of it’s ever going to work. My life is nothing but a waste of carbon and water.”

  My head falls back against the seat then snaps upright.

  “WE’RE ALONE! Do you get that? You, me, EVERYBODY! Sure, we all share the same space, but inside that space we’re just ALONE.”

  I have an urgent need I haven’t had in many years.

  “Stop the car.”

  “What?”

  “Stop the car, I’m going to hurl.”

  “Oh no you ain’t, you hold it in. We only have a few blocks to go.”

  “I can’t.”

  I reach for the door handle. Harmon stands on the brakes and swings into the curb. Shoving the door open, I wretch the contents of my stomach on the pavement. The putrid taste is, putrid, and encourages another involuntary release. The heaving helps to reduce the side effects of the alcohol. After I toss the last of it, my head starts to clear, and I can hold a conversation. With nothing else available, I wipe my chin on my sleeve.

  “Sorry.”

  “Yeah, I know, sorry again.”

  “No I mean it, I’m sorry. I thought it was going to work out with Lori.”

  “It didn’t work out?”

  “No, it didn’t.”

  “Sorry man.”

  He grabs my arm.

  “Maybe you’ve been looking in the wrong place, did you ever think of that?”

  “I’ve used them all up my friend, there’s no place left to look in. I’m telling you man, it’s not out there for me.”

  “Sure it is, the right one has been under your nose all along. You just don’t see it.”

  He’s losing me. I’m having trouble with which way is up, and he wants me to think? I insist he is wrong.

  Harmon parks in front of my apartment. It’s after 3:00 a.m. and I smell bad from my night out at Chipper’s. As I climb out of the passenger side, my peripheral vision sees my car pull up behind us, and the headlights go out. I hear a door slam and footsteps approach. Harmon leans out his window and shouts.

  “Give me a minute.”

  The footsteps walk away, and in the shadows, a cigarette is lit. Harmon looks at me from the driver’s seat as I bend down to say goodnight.

  “Jake, I dropped Mika off here hours ago. She’s inside, and she’s hurting. She needs you.”

  He stares straight out the windshield.

  “And you my friend, need her.”

  I feel stupid. He’s right. What would I do without Harmon? He waves me on and starts the car. The shadow returns, smiles, and slips past me into the passenger seat. I acknowledge his efforts to return my car. They drive off, my partner, and what’s-his-name. I watch the taillights disappear. It’s time to go home. The lights are off inside the apartment. She is either asleep, or waiting in the dark to blind-side me with a blunt object. God knows I deserve it. I go with asleep, so I try to be as quiet as I can. I close and lock the front door. I need to clean up my body, and my act. As I walk through the apartment, I see a trail of clothing––blouse, bra, pants, panties, stockings, and heels. At the end of the trail, in my bed, is Mika, out cold.

  Who’s been sleeping in my bed?

  I know what that is like. It was the same for me after shooting the girl.

  * * *

  It happens in steps. The first was staring at the bottle of barbiturates. Step two required a decision. The third step involved ingesting them, followed by a down wash of a fifth of alcohol. Of course, it should be one’s preferred alcohol, since it would be the last thing you enjoy before step four. The last step, also known as the final step, was falling asleep and not coming back to this life, not ever.

  Lori had all of the ingredients. She even rationalized Emily’s choice, years earlier, didn’t seem as misguided as she had once thought. She also considered the fact that nobody would care if she died. Lori was, after all, the last of her family line, there was no one left to grieve for her. What was the point of going on? Her job had lost its luster years ago. There were just so many times she could go to Paris, Rome––Omaha. The hotels sucked. All of the restaurant food tasted the same, and most were borderline outbreaks of salmonella. The crewmembers gossiped at the speed light. The worst part, there was nobody left to fall in love with. Jake was never coming back. She was certain of that. The others were never right for her. Even if Jake and she had made a go of it, how could her life ever return to normal? Sooner, or later, her secret would surface, and how would that be? Then, there were the voices. They would never let go of her.

  Decision time approached, and Lori was stuck at step two. She looked up at the clock on the kitchen wall. She watched as the second hand circled for a complete minute while counting each second along the way. Maybe she should go to see Emily one last time. With the right words, Emily might agree Jake was right for her. If not, Emily might have some encouraging words to say about the philosophy of suicide.

  For some inexplicable reason it was so much easier to end someone else’s life than your own. Lori pushed the bottle of pills away and got up from the kitchen table. She wiped down the counter top and placed the dishes inside the dishwasher. All the while, she thought about Jake. A quick glance at the clock again and she decided to get some sleep. If in the morning she still wanted to end her life, she would. She turned out the kitchen light and walked through the dark to the solitude of her bedroom.

  * * *

  After toweling off the steam from the shower on the mirror, I ask the ragged face. The image says the same words back to me in reverse, at exactly the same time. A shower feels good, like starting over, a new beginning. The dirt of life that you accumulate and drag around on you everyday, is washed down the drain. The problem is, the dirt always comes back tomorrow. I’m feeling much better than even ten minutes ago. The only remnant left of my social outing with Chipper is my churning stomach. Now what? Do I go out into the bedroom naked, climb into bed and press up against Mika as if all were fine with the world? Do I retreat and wait for my tired and worn body to be discovered beneath the covers on the couch? I retreat. As I make my way out of the steamy bathroom, I head for the bedroom door in the dark. I know the way. As my hand drags the door closed, I hear her voice.

  “Jake?”

  Her head rises above the pillow and I see her squinting into the darkness. Her hand tosses back the covers and exposes her naked body in the moonlight.

  “What are you doing? Where are you going?”

  “I didn’t want to wake you, sorry. You need to get some sleep. I’ll take the couch. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  Just as the door is about to close, I hear her.

  “FREEZE, F-B-I.”

  Her volume is startling. I don’t know which way to go, in or out. I leave it up to her. In a pouting voice, she gives me the answer I had hoped for.

  “Don’t go, stay, I want you to hold me.”

  We’d been there before. We didn’t make it then, why would we make it now? Why be crushed all over again? I didn’t think my heart could take another solid hit right now.

  “Are you sure?”

  I have to give her every opportunity to avoid the heartbreak and pain. I won’t push, insist, or take advantage of her.

  “I’m sure.”

  She holds her arms out for me. I want to lie next to her and be held. I want everything to be right in the world. I don’t want to make any more mistakes.

  How could Mika be a mistake?

  * * *

  I love to read. In particular I am intimately familiar with all of the great philosophers from the ancients and the Greeks, to the Romans, on through the Renaissance, to modern. I have a good deal of accumulated philosophies of my own gathered from my years on the streets. It doesn’t matter. With Mika’s head lying on my chest, I listen while she talks about her life, and the questions we all carry around silently in our heads.

  “
I’ve decided to leave the FBI.”

  That one I didn’t expect. I’m not sure I heard her right. Maybe it was the after effects of my foray into Chipper’s hazy world.

  “Say that again.”

  “I said I’m leaving the FBI, quitting, resigning.”

  She repositions herself on the pillows against the headboard. She says it so casually it’s obvious she has already weighed the pros and cons. Tough call, I don’t know if I should encourage, or discourage, her. It is coming on the heels of yesterday. I had the same debate inside my head about my job after the shooting, still do. One minute my job is devastating, and the next it’s everything I am. We listen as a night shower begins to pelt against the windows. The storm intensifies and cleans the dirty world outside. We watch as lightning flashes illuminate the bedroom. Simple rules governed our lives inside. The hard lessons of life were outside that window, just like the storm.

  A friend of mine used to watch out for me a long time ago. He saw to it I had a smile on my face when things weren’t going my way. It devastated me when he was killed in a small plane crash. Although I don’t believe in much anymore, the usual things like religion, politics, and people, I do believe he’s still watching over me. I can’t explain feeling his presence, like an angel. I decide to try to be an angel for Mika.

  “What are you going to do instead?”

  “Private practice I think, security––a private eye. That way I can control my life.”

  That same thought has banged through my head on more than one occasion. The private sector is always looking for talented, well-trained professionals to protect them. The pay is good and the hours aren’t any worse. One has to play the game, maybe kiss some behind, but that’s normal.

  “I’m in.”

  I tell her with confidence. Mika rises quickly off the pillows.

  “Do you mean that?”

  “Yeah absolutely, I need a change.”

  Revelations, they come in many different shapes and sizes even aloud sometimes. I look at Lori. We don’t speak, but the thoughts gush between us as if they were being shot out of a fire hose. It’s funny how the world looks the same from her small dark eyes and my big hazel eyes. Outside, the thunder pounds against the pavement like one massive Huey helicopter, or a parade of Harley's. I can’t help but wonder if it is a sign from my angel waving us off. Mika leans on my shoulder.

  “I can’t stop thinking about it, him.”

  “Gates?”

  “Yeah, I know he deserved to die. I just didn’t want to be the executioner. I guess you felt the same about the girl.”

  The words jam up inside my head.

  “Still do. You think that’s why we want out...because it would be easier to hide.”

  Be a good angel for her, Jake.

  “Maybe.”

  She grasps my hand and holds it against her breast. No longer mesmerized by the rain pelting the window, I look at her. I feel the warmth of her body against mine as we embrace. Our lips press together just like it used to be. There is no tomorrow, there is just the two of us floating in our own private universe.

  11

  “Hi, I’m Benjamin, and I’ll be working the lead position. This is Kara, Bobby and back there sitting quietly by herself is poor Megan.”

  They all giggled while Benjamin continued with his briefing.

  “Meg’s a little down right now. Apparently, her plans to become the next Mrs. Captain Nick Parker have washed out.”

  “Captain ‘Slick’ in the cockpit broke her heart last night, but that’s nothing new with him. That’s why he chases the new ones,” Kara said

  Lori looked down the cabin aisle and saw a distraught face that didn’t just tell of a broken heart, or another sad rejection. To Lori, Megan’s face expressed severe inner pain. She made a mental note to ask her about it later.

  “That’s too bad.”

  After the introductions, the flight attendants scurried about the cabin preparing the aircraft for boarding. Following the deadly terrorist attacks there were many more things to check before departure. The crews were more cognizant of the consequences associated with air travel. They exchanged small talk while they went about their duties such as who was sleeping with whom, who got fired recently, and there were thousands of weird passenger stories. While she completed her duties, Lori couldn’t help but be drawn to Megan. The girl was young, almost too young Lori thought. She looked as if she hadn’t graduated from high school yet. She also looked dazed, lost and afraid. With ease, Lori made her way to the back of the cabin until she was within a few feet of Megan, who didn’t seem to notice her right away.

  “Hi, Megan,” Lori said.

  She held out her hand, but all she got was a brief nod back.

  “I’m Lori. Is this your regular line?”

  Lori watched closely to see if she was getting through.

  “I picked up this trip late last night,” Lori said.

  Lori’s smile, the same that touched most everyone, finally affected Megan who acknowledged her. Megan, she guessed, was about the age Emily would be if she were still alive.

  “I’m sorry, I’m a little distracted right now. I have a lot on my mind.”

  She glanced at Lori.

  “Yes, this is my line, has been all month.”

  Lori grasped Megan’s shoulder.

  “If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

  Megan was taken by surprise. She backed away and turned toward the galley where she started to fidget with the drawers and doors. She didn’t know what to say. Lori did her best to calm her.

  “Megan I know it’s none of my business, but you look a little spooked to me. As a crewmember, I need to know if there’s a problem before we get going here.”

  Not wanting her abilities as a flight attendant questioned, Megan took a firm stand.

  “I’m fine thank you, there’s no reason for you, or anyone else to be concerned about me.”

  “Really, Meg, I was just offering a shoulder if you needed one. I’ve been doing this a long time. I know a little about some things.”

  A reassuring nod followed. Megan eased off.

  “Thanks, I think I could use a shoulder right about now actually.”

  “Listen, I’ll trade places with Bobby, and work back here if it’s all right with you. I don’t think he’ll mind.”

  Lori flashed another irresistible smile.

  “I don’t want to be a bother.”

  Lori squeezed Megan’s arm lightly.

  “Not a problem, I’ll get it done and be back in a few minutes.”

  She turned and walked up the long center aisle to relay the change in staffing assignment. There was no objection as Bobby and Benjamin were roommates. Passengers followed behind Lori as she made her way back to the aft cabin. They started filing into the various rows of assigned seats.

  “It’s just you and me, babe.”

  Feeling a little more at ease, Megan started to open up and confide in Lori.

  “I’m sorry, I––”

  “Don’t worry about it, we’ll get to it later when everyone settles down.”

  Lori smiled causing Megan to finally smile back. They went about their respective duties. Each time Lori saw the chance, she tried to establish a stronger bond with her.

  * * *

  “We’ve uncovered some interesting information.”

  There is renewed excitement in Harmon’s voice. He definitely isn’t the same Harmon. Now he is Harmon Eldrige Blackwell––the Chief.”

  He is direct, unyielding, and confident. It’s apparent to even the least observant, that every detective in the room has a newfound respect for him. I know I do.

  “Roberts, nice to see you could make it in today.”

  Well, I thought I’d like the new Harmon. The jury is apparently still out.

  “Good news Detective, the Grand Jury and Internal Affairs, cleared you on the girl shoot. I believe the official term used is ‘justified’. Of course, some of us knew it al
l along, but you apparently had your doubts.”

  His words take a mountain of grief off my back. I wonder if anyone sees me breathe a sigh of relief. I glance at Mika who is standing by my side. She hasn’t said a word about leaving the FBI to anyone yet, but I feel her squeeze my forearm. Harmon shifts his attention to her.

  “Agent Scott, I believe you asked about residents in our fair city who own late model, foreign automobiles?”

  “Yes I did, Chief.”

  She is not as aggressive as she usually is and waits for Harmon to divulge what he has.

  “We are all aware Gates was driving a late model silver Lexus when he was apprehended. What we didn’t know, until late yesterday, was he leased the car the day before the murder. A receipt for the CD, also for the day before, was in the center armrest.”

  Harmon waits for the exchange of looks to subside before continuing. Mika gives a quick look back in my direction and becomes more animated.

  “Which would seem to indicate that he is a copycat killer, and not the original,” Mika says.

  Harmon snidely replies, “You’re the expert, F-B-I Agent Scott.”

  * * *

  “Cabin service is complete and they’re all snoozing. It’s as good a time as any Megan to have our conversation.”

  To get her to open up and reveal what was distressing her, Lori had spent the better part of the flight getting Megan to feel more at ease with her. Although hesitant, Megan was ready to talk about it, and there wasn’t going to be a better place then at thirty-five thousand feet over the eastern United States in the back of a Boeing 737. Well, home, or in a lounge, would have been better, but the aircraft was going to have to do. Both flight attendants sat down on the aft jump seats. Lori held on to a plastic bottle of Evian, while Megan sipped a Coke.

  “Meg, I know we don’t know each other well, but sometimes that’s better.”

  Megan agreed. She made a motion in the direction of the others.

  “They think I’m stupid and naïve. They laughed at me. I didn’t tell them anything. They just think they know what happened. I mean, they think I was taken advantage of by the captain.”