The Manuscript

One

The dead eyes stared at me from across the room. No matter where I stepped in the apartment’s kitchen, they followed along, as if trying to tell me they knew my secret. The woman was in her mid-thirties, wearing sweatpants stained with blood and a T-shirt claiming she’d been a participant in a 5K run four years earlier.

I ran a gloved hand along the chipped laminate countertop and noticed the bowl and whisk. She’d been preparing to bake something when she’d been interrupted. The bloody knife was beside her, sharp end pointing away from her wounds.

For a moment, my stomach churned, and I fought the revulsion I always had when seeing homicide victims. It wasn’t a great reaction for a detective. I’d spent the last ten years watching cops much younger than me get promoted, and each of them had hardened to the job so quickly. I wondered if I was broken, or too soft, or if that one defining moment of my life had affected me so much that I’d never break free of its clutches.

Trent? Forensics has swept the room. The coroner’s coming to retrieve the body. Anything else you need? Karen Pullman was a good cop. She’d been my partner for the last two years.

I shook my head. Pretty open and shut case. I glanced at the living room, to the stained old furniture, to the ten or so cheap empty beer cans on the coffee table, and expected the prints to come back as her boyfriend’s. Witnesses had seen a man of his description leaving an hour earlier, around the same time the call to 911 had been placed.

Karen passed a gentle smile and walked over to the door, asking a woman clutching a small child to vacate the hallway. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of sugar and flour, mixed in with the coagulating blood on the floor. I had to get out of here.

Where we off to next? Karen asked me. She was five years younger than me, her hair shoulder-length, brown to match her eyes.

I glanced at my watch and saw it was after midnight. Your date pissed you had to leave? I asked her.

She waved it away with a dismissive gesture. Guy was a bit too clingy for me. You know how I hate that.

I did know. I’d seen a string of men come and go from her life over the last couple of years. A uniformed officer lingered in the hall, and I stopped him at the stairwell. We ever find out if this place has surveillance? Most of these low-rent walk-ups rarely did.

The man spoke into his radio, nodding when he heard a garbled reply. Owner says the super has access. Name’s Cross. He’s in the basement.

Looks like we have our next move, I told Karen, and I motioned for her to take the lead.

We started on the third floor. I cringed as we stepped over empty beer cans, and a hypodermic needle punctured the carpet near the second-floor entrance. I glanced at Karen, but she was good at choosing not to react to the horrible realities of life. She kept moving, and I ignored the fact that this building was full of single mothers, of kids that would have to fight for every opportunity to change their destiny.

We reached the basement, and my nerves lit up on fire. I wasn’t the most hard-boiled cop, but I had what I called a lucky gut. It had saved me more than once, and I trusted to never ignore it.

Karen, I… I started to say when her phone rang.

We were still inside the stairwell, and she answered it. Detective Pullman.

I heard a voice on the other end, speaking in rushed excited tones. She mouthed the words. They caught the boyfriend.

My mood brightened. Like I said, this one should be simple, I said softly.

Murder cases were sometimes the most obvious crimes to solve. I didn’t feel like I’d earned my paycheck on this one.

Karen hung up and shrugged. Should we bother to visit Cross?

Wouldn’t hurt to have some empirical evidence to go along with it. He might snag a lawyer who tells him to keep his trap shut. Let’s see what we can find, I said, and opened the door, pushing the lever down. There were no tenants here from the looks of it. The halls were musty, the kind of smell that you recognize you shouldn’t be breathing in. It was only years of dampness and mold that could cause this, and I squinted at Karen as I took the lead.

The lights were dim, flickering on and off as a light bulb was ready to give up the ghost. There were a couple of unmarked doors along the way, and one at the end of the hall. It didn’t have a label, just a name in felt marker: Cross.

Lovely. I hope he’s wearing pants, Karen whispered.

I was about to knock on the door, alerting the super to our arrival, when I spotted the blood. It wasn’t a big drop, but it sat on the round brass handle like a glowing beacon.

That’s blood, I said quietly, crouching to get a better look.

He does maintenance. He could have cut himself while repairing something, she said.

I knew you’d say that. I pulled my gun from its holster, and Karen hesitantly did the same. She stepped forward, knocking on the smudged door.

Cross, Seattle PD. We’d like to speak with you. Karen held her gun low, but there was no peephole on the door for him to see out of. I glanced up and saw the camera from the end of the hallway, a red light blinking with every two beats of my heart. I nodded over to it, and she frowned. Police. Open up! She banged on the door with the flat of her palm, and I had a bad feeling.

They have the boyfriend, she said to me. Maybe Cross is sleeping.

Maybe he’s not, I said. I preferred to err on the side of caution, but something about this was setting me on edge. Step aside. I banged on the door and waited another minute before glancing at Karen. Probable cause.

I kicked the door in. It took two tries, and my ankle protested as the door swung wide open, revealing a dark apartment suite.

See, he’s sleeping.

Karen started to walk into the room when the gun fired. I pushed her away, diving over her, but I could already smell the faint scent of iron.

Karen! My gun was raised, searching for a target. Officer down! I shouted, and heard the bullet hit the wall at the same time as the gun went off.

I rolled into the hallway, dragging Karen with me. She was bleeding from the chest, blood already trailing out from her mouth as she gasped. Karen Pullman, you stay with me.

Another gunshot, and rage filled me. Whoever was inside had killed a woman upstairs in cold blood, and had shot my partner. Karen’s phone was ringing. It was the dispatcher, and I answered it. I need an ambulance. Get to the basement! Officer down! I dropped the phone and stood up, pressing my body against the near wall.

Put your hands in the air. Drop your weapon. This building is surrounded! I shouted. All was silent. Suddenly, it was all too much. Karen’s dying gasps beside me, the moldy stink of this basement hallway, the dead eyes that had been boring a hole into my soul upstairs. I reverted to a moment as a teenager. I saw the pain in the man’s eyes, the fear, the anger… the understanding, and I shoved it all aside.

Not today, Jerry, I whispered to myself, using the short version of my name that I hadn’t thought about in years. I reached inside the suite and flicked the light switch on. Nothing. No sign of him. I took a deep breath and raised my gun, entering the unit. I knew I should wait, but couldn’t.

The basement door opened, and I heard paramedics and officers rushing toward us as I walked farther into the room. I checked the first door: a closet. The kitchenette was next. Filthy dishes piled in the sink; flies and the smell of rotting meat threatened to gag me.

I heard a door click, and ran for it. I pushed through the cheap hollow interior door, sending it flying, and saw him trying to escape from the window.

Stop where you are! I had the line. I could shoot him. No one would ever know. I glanced to the side of the bedroom, where a series of monitors was set up. They were low-end, crappy old recycled boxy computer monitors, side by side. They showed different suites, and not simply the obvious cameras from the halls and the building’s exits. This man was a voyeur, and he’d taken it to the next step.

He stopped struggling through the window and slid back out, raising his hands. I didn’t see a gun on him as he started to turn. He was older, maybe sixty, and thin, wearing jeans and a dirty tank top.

You weren’t supposed to see this, he said, his voice a gravelly mess. His hair sprouted like weeds in patches from his uneven head; his eyes were like tiny watermelon seeds squinting at me.

Get on your knees, I told him, hearing an officer coming up behind me.

His gaze darted to the door, and I saw his hand flick to his pants. He pulled the gun out, and I didn’t hesitate. I fired. Two rounds, both right on target.

The man fell as the officer entered, gun drawn.

He alone? the officer asked gruffly, his head snapping around, searching for anyone else.

He’s alone. Medics! I shouted, but there was no helping this creep. He was dead.

I glanced to the video screens, seeing the bedrooms of various tenants, flicking back and forth between camera feeds. I hoped we had footage of him killing the victim upstairs, but the thought was fleeting as I rushed out to the hallway, where Karen was already being ushered up the stairs.

________

I followed them to the hospital, where Karen was rushed into emergency surgery. I sat alone in the dimly-lit corner of the Mercy waiting room. I ignored everyone coming and going, because seeing the sad truths of the human existence at that moment was too much for me to bear.

I paced the room, waiting for news on Karen, and eventually, I closed my eyes, but when I did, all I could see was Karen spitting out blood, and the lowlife Cross crumpling to the floor, his dead body illuminated by the soft glow of his computer monitors.

Detective Trent? a woman’s voice asked.

I snapped my head up and realized I’d finally dozed off. Drool clung to my lower lip, and I wiped it away with an embarrassed hand. She was my age, her eyes tired and puffy.

How is she?

The doctor’s face was grim. She lost a lot of blood, and her lung was punctured, but we’ve done everything we can to stabilize her. It’s touch and go, but I’m hopeful she’s going to make it, the doctor advised.

Relief mixed with worry at the vague answer, but I started forward toward the rooms. I’m sorry, sir. You can’t visit her yet. Come back tomorrow, and we’ll see if she’s strong enough for company. Have you notified her family?

I hadn’t, and felt like a fool for it. I shook my head but pulled out my phone.

Thank you for saving her life. I didn’t know what else to tell her, and she nodded, leaving me alone in the waiting room.

I called Karen’s sister and gave her the news. She was the only one I’d met, and I knew she lived in Seattle. I had Karen’s phone in the palm of my hand but didn’t want to try anyone else. Barb could pass the news on. She was a mess on the call, startled awake at… I squinted at the clock, seeing it was after four in the morning. It was time to go home.

There was nothing quite like an early spring Seattle morning, and not necessarily in a good way. It was damp, the kind of weather that clings to your skin then absorbs into your bones. I pulled my jacket tight around my neck and found my car, getting in and locking the doors. I made sure no one was looking and I leaned into the steering wheel, pressing my forehead against the leather, and wondered for the tenth time that night if I was even cut out for this gig.

My phone buzzed.

What now? I asked, pulling the cell from my pocket.

It was an email from [email protected]. My heart raced as I stared at the name. What could Jay possibly want at four in the morning?

My finger hovered over the message, and it stayed there for a full minute before I clicked the phone to sleep mode and shoved it into my jacket.

A half hour later, I was inside my house. I turned to the door and checked the alarm before slipping off my shoes and kicking them to the side. I flipped the light switch on and heard the familiar clicking of Sally’s nails as she ran from her bed in the living room down the hall to greet me.

I crouched, scratching my collie behind the ears. Come on, girl. Sorry I’m late, I told her, and she ran to the rear patio door, patiently waiting for me to arrive. I slid the door open, finding it unlocked. Carl, the neighbor kid, would come over and let Sally out on nights he didn’t see the porch light on. It was our little system. I gave him twenty bucks a month, and he got to play with a dog.

I’d have to remind him to lock the house again. He was only seven, and this kind of thing often slipped his mind.

Sally returned, and I let her in. Want a midnight snack? I asked her, and her gaze lifted to the cupboard I kept her food in. I laughed. I take that as a yes.

My dog slowly pecked away at her food. She was far daintier than I was. I opened the fridge and scanned it for something to eat. When nothing seemed appealing, I pulled out a beer bottle, twisting the lid off.

My phone buzzed again from the jacket draped on the edge of my island stool. Sally, what does Jay want? I asked her, but she didn’t reply.

I left the email unopened, deciding I needed a shower. Soon steam was pouring from my stall, and I stepped in, feeling the burn of the hot water. I needed this after tonight. The only way to get the distant smell of blood off my skin was to wash it off with Lava. It hurt, but I forced myself to stand under the scalding pressure. Soap dripped into my eyes, and I closed them tight, seeing the victim’s dead stare behind my eyelids. Karen’s panicked breaths. Cross’ crumpled form.

The eyes morphed, turned from brown to bright blue: a different time, a different victim. My eyelids jumped open and I wiped the soap away, finally turning down the heat. Enough. I was only thinking about it because Jay had sent an email the same night I’d been forced to kill again. I couldn’t avoid the man forever.

Five minutes later, I settled onto my Eames chair, Sally dozing lightly at my feet. That was a skill I wished I had: the ability to be active one second and slumbering the next. I reached over, petting her below the collar. She groaned and stretched out, content to just be a dog.

Let’s see what he wants, I told myself, grabbing my phone. Before I could talk myself out of it, I clicked the email open, seeing there was already a reply to it from Abby. I skipped over her message and read Jay’s initial one. In my current rattled state, I needed the distraction.

Hey all,

I know we haven’t seen each other in some time, but I was hoping you three could come and stay with me for a week in June. I’ve already booked the flights and will arrange transportation at the airport. I have something important to share with you.

Please see the attached dates and details.

Sincerely,

Jay B

I read it again and laughed out loud. That’s a little presumptuous, isn’t it? I asked myself. I clicked the attachment with my name on it, and saw the electronic tickets for the first week of June. What was Jay playing at? It had been over ten years since we’d all been in the same room, and that hadn’t ended well. It never did.

I scrolled up, checking Abby’s reply.

Jay et al,

I’ve been thinking about you guys so much lately. It’s kind of weird how you sent this tonight. You know I’ll be there.

Catch you on the other side

Abigail

Abigail. It was strange seeing her full name, considering we’d only ever known her by Abby. I guessed it wasn’t so different than me going by Jeremiah instead of Jerry, like I used to. For a moment, I wondered how she’d been up to answer it so early, but remembered it was after seven in Texas.

I couldn’t commit to anything yet, not with Karen in the hospital and the fact that I’d killed a man tonight. The horror of it hadn’t fully registered. Being a detective, I rarely had to pull my gun, and it was the first time I’d ever fired at another human. Right now, I wasn’t sure how I felt, but I was glad the man was dead and that Karen had pulled through. Exhaustion was seeping through my clouded mind, a dark curtain closing around me. I took another sip of my beer and settled deeper into my seat.

Going to Colorado to Jay’s house didn’t seem like much of a vacation. I thought about calling him or texting him privately to find out what he needed to show us. Jay was an author, a famous one, and suspense was what he’d built his career on. There was no way he’d tell me what it was about. I’d have to see it for myself.

There would be an investigation into the death tonight, and the department would put me on leave without asking. One of my peers had killed someone last year, and they were gone for a month before being cleared by the therapist to return. Even then, she’d worked behind a desk after. I hoped Cross’ death wouldn’t affect me the same way.

I headed to bed, Sally coming to sleep at the end of the mattress. I glanced at Sally, who was stretched out and grumbling, and whispered to her, What do you say, girl? How does a trip to Colorado sound?

I doubted I’d do it. It was too far away, and I was too deeply rooted with my old gang of friends. But by then, Karen would be better.

I told myself this over and over as I finally let sleep take hold.

Two

"Thanks for your patience, Trent," Captain Palmer said as he rested his hand on my shoulder.

I’m glad it’s done with. There had been an investigation, my gun had been taken, and all our stories were corroborated; meanwhile, Karen had improved each day, and she was finally being released today.

Take all the time you need, Trent. Karen’s going to be off for a while, so you both go and heal. Captain Palmer could be insightful, and I appreciated him for it.

I will, Captain. Thank you. I said my goodbyes to the rest of the precinct and made my way to my SUV.

A buzzing sound notified me of a text on my phone, and I checked the message, smiling to see Karen’s name appear on the screen.

Hurry. I need to leave!

I put on my sunglasses and rolled my windows down, letting in the warm June air on the short drive over to the hospital. I pulled up at the front in my unmarked SUV.

An orderly pushed Karen out the front doors in a wheelchair, and I rushed toward her.

Karen! I can’t believe we ran into each other like this, I told her with a grin. She looked good, better than the last few times I’d visited. The color had returned to her cheeks, and she’d obviously spent time fixing her hair. I even thought she’d put on some makeup.

She took my outstretched hand and let me help her to her feet. With a smile and a thanks to the orderly, we settled into the car, me making sure Karen was all the way inside before closing the door softly.

I flipped the signal on and pulled away. I bet you can’t wait to get home, I told her. You look good.

I saw her smile from the corner of my eye. I’m sure you don’t want to talk about it, but I do. What’s the word?

She didn’t have to explain. I knew what she was after. Instead of arguing about it, I decided to let it all out. Cross had thousands of hours of footage stored on the cloud. It was sick. He had his favorites, and Vivian Sykes was among them. He was over at her place for a broken faucet, which we also have evidence of him tampering with when she wasn’t home.

And the boyfriend? Karen asked.

He was drunk, ran out of beer, and was rushing to the store before they closed. Cross observed this all from the basement and took his opportunity. It looked like he was trying to assault her when she fought back, and he stabbed her with her own knife. Doesn’t seem in character, but I don’t profess to understand the complex mind of a pervert like Cross, I told her.

I’m thinking there’s more to this. We’ll find out, she said.

Not me. I’m off for a few weeks. They’ve put Gill and Banks on it, I advised.

She let out a sigh. Thank you.

For what?

For keeping me alive. And for… killing him. She watched me with wide eyes. I turned my attention over to the road.

You’re welcome. I left it at that.

What are you going to do if they’re making you take the time off? Karen asked.

I’ll keep busy. I have some work to do around the house. Maybe redo the back garden…

What about that author friend? she asked. I’d filled her in about my old friendship with the gang from Aspen when I was a kid. She wasn’t given the whole story, not even close.

What about him?

You should go. He’s covering the cost, and how cool would it be to see them? You said it’d been, what, ten years?

Karen, you don’t know…

I know you need to get away. You shot someone, Jeremiah. Go. See your friends. Take Sally with you. She’d love it. I bet he has a big house too. Karen’s smile was infectious.

What about you? I asked.

"My sister’s staying with me for a while. We’ll keep