Living On The Edge : Living On The Edge - Chap 4 by Begin Again |
CHAPTER 4 In a secluded sanitarium hidden in the hills, highly skilled doctors worked feverishly through the night to save Troy Sinclair's life. "He's got the best medical team available, Jake. If anyone can save him, they can and will." Frank Divito stared out the window, silently praying for Troy's recovery. "I know, but only hours ago, we exchanged stories, reminiscing about the good old days—and the not-so-good ones, too. I hadn't seen him since — well, a very long time." Jake moved away from the doors leading to the operating room, where his friend's life hung in the balance, and joined Frankie. "Any thoughts on who might be behind the shooting?" "Thoughts? Yeah, a million of them, but no tangible proof. When your guys scoured the premises, did they come up with anything?" "Unfortunately, not even a shell casing. However, Sam says they found a partial footprint and a green cellophane wrapper. Some kind of candy or mint. Can't say for sure either belongs to our shooter, but for now, it's all we have to go on." "What about the penthouse?" "My cleaning crew wiped it clean. If anyone goes there looking for Troy, they'll never know what went down. Every inch has been sanitized. New carpet is being installed as we speak." "You're the best, Frank." "We're all products of the old neighborhood, Jake. In our later years, we each chose our own way of life, but the pact we made that day will always be thicker than blood. We're brothers until the end." "Brothers!" Jake shook his head and stared at the sky. "I wonder if the Chief will even worry about his disappearance or what story he'll spin if the press gets wind of it? According to Troy, his homecoming wasn't a happy one." "Really? Maybe he's worried about his political future." "Political future? Now, that's a first for me. Is Richard considering running for office?" "My grapevine says he's already making plans. Of course, everyone is keeping it hush-hush since he just got sworn in as Chief, but he's already got things in motion, focusing on really running this town. "Mayor?" Jake's jaw dropped. "He's never mentioned anything of the sort at the station." "And he won't until he's got all his men in the positions he needs them to be. Why do you think he changed his name? He was trying to distance himself as far away as he could." "But then why the reduced sentence? Wouldn't he have wanted Troy to rot in prison so he could show his stand on crime?" "That's exactly what he wanted." Jake frowned. "I'm confused. Why would the Chief's poker pal give Troy a reduced sentence? If Richard wanted his brother gone, certainly he would have pressured the judge to throw the book at him, especially since he was a cop." "Believe me, he did. Sometimes, it's not just who you know, Jake. It's what you know and who knows it." "The witness that disappeared?" "After some cosmetic surgery, she's living and breathing on the Spanish Riviera. Touching elbows with the rich and famous is quite exhilarating." Frankie chuckled. I'm positive the Chief is steaming over her disappearance." "Well, someone killed Sandra in the line of duty. As her commanding officer, he should want to avenge her death." "Maybe. But something tells me there's more to that, too." Jake slapped his friend on the back. "I'll never figure you out. Here you have the rap of being a kingpin in the undercover world, and you're out solving the town's crimes." "Someday, we'll sit together, share a few glasses of wine, and I'll tell you the whole story, but for now, let's just worry about Troy." ***** "Are you listening to me?" Richard snapped as he leaned across his desk. "If you can't handle the late nights, maybe you should take a break." He grabbed a stack of papers and waved them in Jake's direction. "I've got a dozen men clamoring for your job." "Huh? Give me a sec, okay?" Jake lifted his lanky frame from the chair, pushed back his baseball cap, and moved toward the door. He yawned and stretched. "I just need a cup of that black brew Penny calls gourmet coffee." "No, stay put." Richard opened the door and growled, "Penny, get Jake some coffee." Caught off guard, she dropped her phone into the desk drawer and spun her chair around. "But Jake doesn't —" "Damn it, girl. He says he wants coffee." Richard retreated and slammed the door. "Yes, sir!" Wide-eyed, she hurried across the room to the coffeemaker, scoured the assortment of cups, picked the cleanest one, and poured the tarry substance into it. She felt goosebumps form on her arms as she tapped on the Chief's door.
It was her lucky day! Jake opened the door, offered her a lopsided grin, and accepted the steaming cup. Battling the lack of sleep, Jake took a huge gulp of the liquid and choked, "It's like drinking mud. How do you drink this crap?" For the first time that morning, Richard chuckled. "I don't. A daily service brings in coffee, or Alyssa picks it up on her way in." "Alyssa?" "Yeah, she was a good friend of Sandra's. You probably haven't met her yet. She's a feisty one. Recently, she got promoted to this department and now works undercover in the red-light district. Fairly good at her job, except she's got her head screwed up because Sinclair got released." A chill shot through Jake's tired body as memories of last night flashed through his head. "You mean Troy — your brother?" "Jake, a cop gone bad and turned rapist is not a brother of mine. I hope he moves on before he strikes again in this town." "Come on. I know I'm the new kid on the block, so I wasn't around when the arrest went down, but I remember Troy as a kid. Do you honestly believe your own flesh and blood could stoop so low?" "I'm afraid I do, and I told him so. We don't need his kind around here." Richard turned his chair toward the window. "This town is growing, and big things are happening. If I have my way, Troy's kind will rot in jail if someone doesn't kill him first." Jake's exhaustion, combined with his worried frustration, made his anger bubble below the surface. He snarled, "He's your brother, for Christ's sake." Richard spun back around, glaring at Jake. "I'd watch your tone, Jake. Old friendships only go so far. I can make your life miserable around here or send you packing." Jake returned the icy glare. "My mistake. It won't happen again." He moved toward the door. "I've got a job to do." ***** A deep, painful groan escaped Alyssa's lips as she straightened her legs and stretched. It felt as if her eyelids had been glued shut. Her head throbbed. She pushed herself to a sitting position and mumbled, "Why am I sleeping on the floor?" Her answer was a flashback of last night's events.
She felt her skin crawl as the fear reclaimed her. Her trembling arms and legs battled against her attempt to stand, but ultimately, she was victorious. Her fingers fumbled with the locks, checking they were intact. Satisfied, she stumbled to the bathroom, splashing ice-cold water on her face. It felt good. She patted her skin dry with a hand towel and stared into the bloodshot eyes in the mirror. "Holy cow, I could go on vacation with these bags." Then scolded herself, "You've got to get a grip. Where's that girl who wants to be a cop? You aren't going to solve Sandra's murder by flipping out." ***** A steamy shower, a change of clothes, and coffee helped put Alyssa in a slightly better place, but not a perfect one. She reached for her phone and realized she'd missed two calls while she was cleaning up. Both were from Penny. Inhaling, she placed the call and waited. Penny answered on the first ring, snapping, "Where are you? I've been worried sick. Are you okay?" Alyssa rubbed her temple with her free hand. "Slow down, girlfriend. I'm alive. I've got a throbbing headache, but I'm not dying." "How would I know? That letter last night couldn't have been good, or you would never have ditched me." "Ditched you? Some thanks I get for giving you and Rob a chance to have a romantic dinner." "I know your tricks, Allie. Don't try to turn the subject to Rob and me, though the dinner was lovely." "Great. I won't —" Penny interrupted, "I'm not done with you, Allie. The letter? Either you tell me, or I tell the Chief. I'm sure he'd like to hear about it." "No! Don't tell the Chief or anyone, for that matter. Promise me." "Fine, I promise. Now spill it." Alyssa thought for a moment, wondering how she could dress up the letter without telling the whole story. Penny was impatient. "I want the truth, too. I know you're trying to think of something I'll buy into. It's not going to happen. Oh, here comes the Chief. Maybe you want to tell him yourself." Penny looked around, making sure no one was around, especially her boss. Allie took the bait. "Okay, I'll tell you." She sipped her coffee and began, "Before I came to this department, I had a long-going relationship with a man. He didn't want me to take the promotion, but I did. Long story short, I broke it off between us. Gave him the ring back and everything. Last night, I guess he had second thoughts." "But how'd he know we were having dinner at Mama's?" "He must have followed me. As a matter of fact, he was at the bar when I left." "Oh dear, did he make a scene? Men are so stupid like that. Or did you decide to give him a chance?" "Oh no. That relationship is water over the dam. I told him that last night and we went our ways. See, nothing sinister happened." "You better not be lying to me, Allie, or I will never forgive you." "It's the whole truth. I promise." Alyssa crossed her fingers and prayed for forgiveness. "It's late in the day. Are you coming in?" "No, it's my shift tonight, so I have a few errands to run before showtime." "Okay. And Allie, please be careful." "Don't worry your pretty little head. Tommy's always got my back." She ended the call and buried her head in her arms on the table. At least I hope he does. ***** Jake stormed out of the building. He couldn't believe he'd been able to keep his cool listening to Richard berate Troy. Did his success mean so much to him that he would sacrifice an innocent man? He couldn't possibly believe Troy could do any of the accusations that had sent him to prison. He climbed into his car and dialed Sammy's number. A sleepy voice answered, "It's still morning, my friend. Call back when I'm awake." Jake laughed. "It's almost noon, Sammy. I've been at the department since seven." "That sounds like a personal problem. You need a job with better hours. I'm sure my boss would help you out with that." "I'm sure he would. Is there any news on Troy?" "Yeah. Frankie talked to the doctor. It's touch and go because he lost a lot of blood. He wouldn't make any promises, but he thinks Troy will recover. They've got him doped up for the pain. It's just going to take time, Jake. Look at it this way, better he is in Frankie's hands than someone else's." "Yeah, I hear you. Any thoughts on who shot him?" "Not yet, but the guys are working on it. If anyone can find out, our team can. Now if you don't mind, I need to get a few more hours of beauty sleep." "Thanks, Sammy, for everything." "Hey, I'm just the errand boy. What Frankie wants, Frankie gets." **** Alyssa had walked through the glass doors of her friend's office countless times before, but today was different. Something about this visit made her feel uneasy. She needed someone she could trust who wouldn't judge her or dismiss her concerns as mere nonsense. When she arrived at the door, she couldn't help but admire the cozy and inviting decor. The plush burgundy chairs with overstuffed pillows, the vibrant Persian rug, and the soft lighting all contributed to the welcoming atmosphere. The walls featured mahogany bookshelves and wainscoting, creating a personal, homely feel to the space. Alyssa read the name on the door, "William Cohen, PMHNP - Psychiatric & Mental Health," and took a deep breath before knocking. Within seconds, the door opened, and her friend's warm and friendly smile put her at ease. "Allie. Come in. It's been a long time, but I'm happy you called." She returned his smile. "I'm sorry I stayed away so long. Life kind of got in the way." "You are always welcome to come by, even for a chat." "I know. Billy. Thank you." He sensed her nervousness. "Everything okay?" She shook her head. "No — yes — honestly, I don't know." "Come into my office. We won't be disturbed because everyone has the afternoon off. The newscast was keeping me company." A newscaster was reporting on Troy Sinclair's early release from prison. They showed a photo of him. Allie's eyes widened as she focused on him. The unexplainable fear gripped her again, and tears threatened to spill from her eyes. "Allie, what's wrong? Do you know this man?" His gentle kindness opened the floodgates. She buried her face against her friend's chest, unable to be consoled. "You're scaring this old man. Can you tell me what's going on?" "Tha-a-at's — that's him," her muffled voice stuttered. "He's responsible for Sandra's murder." "He faced a conviction for rape. I didn't hear about a murder. Are you sure it's the same man, Allie?" "I'm positive. Sandra was my friend. There was a witness, but she disappeared before she could testify. Someone said something about his tattoo. He got four years instead of life." "I'm sorry about that, but as a cop, you know things happen. People make deals. You have to learn to separate yourself from it or the job will destroy you." "I can't. And now he's haunting me." "Is this real or is it your imagination and grief getting the best of you?" She thrust the letter into his hands. "It's real. The letter was delivered to me at dinner last night." Bill read the words — You haven't seen the last of me. "Allie, what does it mean? Are you sure he sent it to you?" "I've never met him. And I'm not sure of anything, except I feel like I'm being followed. Am I going crazy?" "Allie! You need to tell the police. You can't fight this alone." "My gut tells me he's going to kill me, Billy." "That's it! I'm calling the police right now." "No, it's only a gut feeling. I don't have any proof." "Your gut is good enough for me." Bill picked up his phone and dialed. He dropped the phone as he saw his friend staggering out the door. He raced after her, screaming, "Allie, wait. Talk to me." Gasping for breath, her heart pounding in her chest, she struggled to contain her fear. It was too late, though - terror had taken control, and was driving her forward at breakneck speed. "I have to leave. I never should have come here." With a frenzied desperation, she burst through the outer door, glancing frantically back over her shoulder as she ran. She collided with someone entering the building, sending them stumbling backwards towards the curb. "I'm sorry, I didn't-" Her eyes widened in alarm, her throat constricting as she struggled for air. Her heart was racing so fast she was sure it was going to burst from her chest. For a moment, she couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. The man regained his balance, turning to glare at her in anger. But then their eyes met, and something inside her snapped. A voice in her mind screamed, "Run... run... get out of here before it's too late." She knew she had to get away, had to escape the horror that was lurking just beyond the door.
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