Beyond the Mask Page 18
It was the cries of Madison.
The man stopped and turned in the direction of the cries.
“No!” Alison screamed. She jumped from the bed, forgetting her nakedness, and grabbed the bedside lamp. Her body jerked a bit as the cord stuck in the socket and then pulled free.
None of this registered to her conscious mind. The only thing in her brain was Madison.
The man turned back towards her and she saw his smile turn down. She swung the lamp and connected. It smashed against his skull and he rocked back.
“Bastard!” Alison screamed. She dropped the lamp neck, which was now attached to nothing, and brandished her nails.
She aimed for the throat, meaning to tear it open like a wild animal, but the man regained himself faster than she could have anticipated.
A bright lance of pain spread across her abdomen. Alison looked down and saw the hilt of the knife protruding from her stomach.
Red spread out all around her.
“Alison, you know what day it is, what the fuck!”
This came from downstairs. She opened her mouth to scream at Bob, but then knuckles and skin hit her face. White poppies bloomed in her vision and she could feel herself falling. The world tilted at an angle and then another blow as her head connected with the carpet.
She felt a pull at her stomach and barely registered it.
Her vision was hazy, nightmarish geometric images were beginning to cloud her eyes and fill in black spaces. It was as if someone were shutting out the lights behind her eyes, one by one. She saw the man that had stabbed her as he walked out the door. The knife was in his hand again, he had pulled it out of her.
“Alison, are you okay?” Bob’s voice was panicked. It rose in a falsetto that she had never heard from him.
Thunder rumbled down the stairs in rapid succession.
“I’ll fucking kill you!” Bob shouted.
Run, Alison thought. Why don’t you run, you stupid man?
She rolled over on her belly and felt a starburst of pain shoot through her body.
Madison was still crying. It was that rapid staccato cry of hers. The one that said she was hungry. Alison could imagine the little tears in the corner of her eyes.
There was banging and screams coming from downstairs. Alison registered the fact that those screams were Bob’s.
Ignoring the pain, Alison reached out her hand and grabbed at the carpet. She kicked out her legs and pulled with her arm. She might have managed six inches of movement. Her belly burned and her hands were shaking. The pain was immense.
There was a gurgle from downstairs and what sounded like ripping.
“Alison!” This shout was devoid of any force. It was the shout of a man who had been drowning for several hours. The last shout before giving in to the water and going under.
Another gurgle, the sound of that same man with a mouthful of water.
Alison ignored all of it. The doorway was only a few feet away, beyond that was the hallway and then the door to the baby’s room.
I’m going to die, Alison thought.
That didn’t matter either, so she shoved it to the side. The only thing that mattered was her crying daughter. She needed to get to her, needed to-
There was a pair of boots in her vision now.
Alison lifted her head, more blackness had entered her vision and what remained shook and bobbed.
She saw the man bend at the waist. She saw his face.
“Don’t…” she said.
She wanted to tell him not to hurt the baby. Wanted to plead with him to leave Madison alone. The only thought in her brain was to protect her daughter.
“Too late,” the man said.
More pain. This time it was her neck. She felt a rushing in her head and more blackness popped into her vision.
A strange serenity began to sweep over her and kill the panic that had ruled in her brain. She looked at the blackness and saw light. It was small at first, but it began to grow. Her final thought was that it was amazing how black her vision was with her eyes still open and still the light grew. Soon it would sweep over her and she would let it.
Twenty-Two
I.
Frank’s cell phone rang as he drove home. He recognized the number and smiled as he pressed the talk button.
“Hello.”
“Hey there,” Katie said. “You’ve had a busy day. I’m watching you on the news right now.”
“Never a dull moment,” Frank said.
“You look good on T.V. Sound good too.”
Frank could imagine her sitting on the bed with the phone in her hand. Then he thought about her twirling her hair with her finger and he shut his thoughts down.
“What’s going on?”
“I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner tonight?”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Frank asked.
“I…you don’t want to?”
Sulkiness invaded her voice. Frank winced against it.
“Actually, I do want to, it’s just that I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”
“You let me worry about what’s a good idea and what’s a bad idea.”
Frank sighed. He was not in the mood for a debate. There was too much going on.
“Okay. Do you want me to pick you up?”
“Just come to my room. I’m ordering room service.”
“Katie.”
“Remember, let me worry.”
“Okay. I have to stop at home first, though. Give me some time.”
“Take all the time you need.”
Frank hung up. He looked at the clock in the car. It was just after five, the patrols would be changing shifts in less than half an hour. Michaels would be in charge. Frank had told him that he would be in touch after the shift change. He had been planning on taking a patrol himself.
“Too much to do,” Frank muttered.
When he entered the house, Bentley was on the couch. It was his permanent perch.
“Well there he is,” Bentley said.
The television was off today, but the stupid cell phone was in his hands.
“I didn’t know if I’d find you here or not,” Frank said.
“Why?” Bentley asked. He rested his chin on the back of the couch as he regarded Frank with wide eyes.
“Because of the scene you caused today.”
Frank took a seat in his chair.
“Oh, that. Yeah, sorry about that.”
“You’re sorry?” Frank asked. “You’re sorry?”
“That’s what I said.”
Frank jumped from the chair and advanced on Bentley. The kid slumped back in the couch, trying to sink into it. His eyes were wide and alarmed.
“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Frank bellowed. “I told you to leave her alone. I told you to stay away and you come anyway. Do you think she wants to see you?”
“I just wanted to apologize,” Bentley said. It came out sounding like a whimper.
“That’s all you ever think about, isn’t it? What you want, what you need to do. You’re like a fucking dog with a bone. You just won’t give it up until someone pulls you away from it. Have you looked in the mirror? Do you see what your stupidity got you?”
Frank pointed at Bentley’s face, where red lines ran across his cheeks.
“They’ll heal,” Bentley said. A hand stole to his face to feel his wounds.
“You need to respect other people. You say you’ve changed, well show it.”
“I’m sorry,” Bentley said. He sounded like a petulant teenager caught taking nips from his dad’s bottle of whiskey.
“I don’t care.” Frank leaned even closer to the kid. “You know that Warden Hatchet was murdered last night. When you were alone. No alibi there. I told you about what he did to me and then he shows up dead.”
Bentley’s eyes widened to saucers. “Frank, I didn’t do that. You have to believe me; I didn’t have anything to do with that.”
Frank turned away and headed t
o the kitchen. His mouth was sore and dry from the yelling, and he needed a beer.
“Frank,” Bentley called after him. “I didn’t kill him.”
Frank tipped the bottle and felt the cool, thick liquid on his throat.
“I know,” Frank said when he’d lowered the bottle. “I know you didn’t do it.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, we found DNA at the scene. It was a prisoner. Guy was released last month. Guess he must have had a hard-on for Hatchet.”
Bentley looked relieved. “What did Hatchet do to him?”
“Whatever he could,” Frank said. He walked back to the living room. “Had the guards beat the shit out of him, put him in the worst block. Surrounded the guy with rapists and murderers.”
“He wasn’t a killer?”
“Not before last night,” Frank said. “Guy was in for drug trafficking. Pot, not a whole lot of it from what I hear, either.”
Bentley’s eyes muddled. “Wait, if all he was in for was marijuana than why was he in with the murderers?”
Frank sat down with a sigh. “I talked to a few of the guards. Most of them were pretty closed lipped about the whole thing, even though the assholes know that I’m just trying to bring their beloved Warden’s killer to justice.”
“Loyalty is an odd thing,” Bentley said.
“I guess,” Frank replied. “Anyway, I got a few answers from some of them. It seems that Brandon Albarn, that’s the killer’s name, seems he was rude to the Warden when he was first processed. Pissed him off and he did everything he could to pay him back.”
“But Albarn got the last laugh,” Bentley said.
“No,” Frank said. “We will, as soon as we get him.”
“You can’t hate him,” Bentley said.
Frank shrugged. “Not saying I hate him.”
“I mean, he killed a man who was trying to extort you. The same man who had abused his power to make him suffer.”
Frank looked at Bentley. “Are you saying that you think I should let him go?”
“No,” Bentley said. “I’m saying that I have sympathy for him. I can see where he’s coming from.”
“You have sympathy for someone?”
Bentley seemed to consider this for a moment. “Yeah, I guess that’s what I’m saying. I have sympathy for someone. Is that odd?”
“Odd for you,” Frank said.
He stood up and looked down at Bentley. “I have work to do tonight. I probably won’t be back until the morning. You think you can take care of yourself?”
“Frank, I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. But, if you’re going after Ellison, can’t I come with you?”
“No,” Frank said.
“You’re not going after Ellison,” Bentley said.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re going to see her.”
It did not sound like a question.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you do. I don’t know why you insist on trying to lie to me. Don’t you know you’re in the presence of the greatest liar that ever lived?”
“What I do in my personal life is none of your business.”
“Do you think it’s a smart idea?” Bentley asked. “She is much younger than you and she’s grieving for her mother.”
“I’m not talking about this with you,” Frank said. “Just eat dinner. I’ll come by and pick you up before I go on the patrol.”
II.
Katie answered the door wearing a plush white robe with gold embroidery. Her hair was damp and little drops of water dripped from the strands.
“Get in here,” she said and grabbed him by the collar.
Before he had a chance to utter any kind of protest her robe hit the floor and she was pulling him towards the bed.
Her mouth sought his and then his thoughts focused in one direction.
When it was over they lay on the bed looking at the ceiling once again. Her arms were around him and her head was on his chest.
“Frank, I’ve never had a steady boyfriend.”
“Katie, we should probably talk about things.”
“Me first,” Katie said. “Please just let me say this.”
She lifted her head and Frank’s eyes met hers. They seemed desperate and he could feel the breeze of her breath on his face.
“I dated here and there and I’m not a virgin, of course, but no one ever stuck. Any time it got to the point where we started talking about being exclusive, being an item, I started to feel like I couldn’t breathe.”
“An item?” Frank asked. “Were the guys you were dating in 1957?”
“Don’t,” Katie said and lightly punched his arm, but she was smiling. “I’m trying to be serious.”
Frank let her talk.
“What I’m saying is that I never trusted them. I never trusted anyone. I never felt like I was protected.”
“I make you feel protected?”
“It’s more than that. I can see a future with you.”
“For a few years,” Frank said. “You want to bury a husband before you’re forty?”
Katie was silent.
“I’m sorry,” he said. It was barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay,” Katie said. “I know what you mean. You’re really worried about the age thing aren’t you?”
The age thing. As if it were no more important than if he liked dramas and she was into comedy.
“Yes.”
“Please don’t worry about that,” Katie said. “You’re not that much older.”
“Just twenty years,” Frank said.
Katie’s head shot up again. “Just stop.” There were tears forming in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Frank said. “You just need to be realistic about it.”
She shook her head and uttered a disapproving grunt. “I’m trying to tell you that I love you.”
They looked at each other for a moment, neither of them saying anything.
A blush rose in Katie’s cheeks and she buried her head back on his chest. “I freaked you out, didn’t I?”
Frank clutched her closer. “No, you didn’t freak me out.”
“You can’t help who you love, you know.”
Frank could tell her that wasn’t true. He could tell her that you had almost as much control over who you fell in love with as you did over what college you went to or what car you bought. But he let it go.
“And our age difference doesn’t matter to me.”
“Not now,” Frank said. “That might not be the case in another ten years, or fifteen.”
“And any of us could die at any time,” Katie said. “We, you and I, know that.”
“What does that have to do with this?”
Katie sat up and the bed, she turned her back on him.
“If you don’t love me, just say so and leave. If this is just some fun time for you, I understand. God knows we didn’t put any labels on it.”
Frank touched her shoulder. She tried to shrug it off, but he kept it there.
“I didn’t say I don’t love you.”
She turned towards him. The tears had spilled and marked her cheeks. Frank was reminded of Bentley. That night he’d had the bad dream.
“But you didn’t say that you did.”
“Do you want me to lie to you?”
Katie sniffled. “Never.”
“Then I can’t say that I love you right now. I can say that this is more than just a good time. I can tell you that I care about you very much. Maybe in time those feelings might deepen into love.”
“I think I can live with that,” Katie said.
Her eyes told a different story.
“What I want you to think about is if what you’re feeling is really love or maybe something else.”
“What else could it be?”
“You’re vulnerable right now. Being back here, seeing Bentley, your Mother. You might be confused.”
“I’m going to the bathroom. I think you should be gone when I come out.”
“Katie…”
“Please just go. I guess I have some thinking to do. Maybe some growing up to do too.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
Katie turned without responding and slammed the door to the bathroom.
Frank gathered his things and dressed. He opened the door to the hotel room but paused. He looked at the bathroom door.
After a minute, he walked out of the hotel.
Twenty-Three
I.
They were in the car. One bright spot in the fight with Katie was that he didn’t have to cancel the night patrol he had wanted to take. Bentley drummed his hands on the passenger seat as Frank followed the map that sat between them.
“You need to stop that,” Frank said.
Bentley glanced down at his hands and made them stop.
“I’m going to be calling one of my guys in a minute and I don’t want you to say anything when I do.”
“Still your dirty little secret,” Bentley said.
Frank shook his head. “You can believe whatever you want,” Frank said. “The point is, you’re not a part of this investigation. If we bring Ellison to trial and anyone ever finds out that you had anything to do with this we could be looking at another killer going free.”
“Just a point of fact, I didn’t go free,” Bentley said. “I got the help I needed.”
“This is bigger than you, now,” Frank said. “I’m not telling you this stuff to make a personal dig at you. I’m telling you so that you know to keep your head down.”
“You want my help; you just don’t want anyone to know it. I’m your Cyrano.”
“Fine. Just as long as you understand your place.”
“Oh, yes boss,” Bentley said in a thick imitation of a black servant.
Frank sighed and picked up the cell phone.
“All quiet so far,” Michaels said.
“I’m almost in position,” Frank said. “I’ll be here until the morning. Or until something happens, I suppose. You should get home and get some rest.”