THE ALTER: A Psychological Crime Thriller (4 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

              “Ryan. Ryan, wake up.” Alice shook him but he continued to moaned and toss. A more aggressive effort succeeded and he finally woke, gasping as if awakened by resuscitation. She embraced him full of compassion, but he was more concerned about giving her reason to worry. It was too late.

“You’re having nightmares again,” she said.

“They’re just dreams, Alice,” he responded in an exhausted voice.

“You were screaming and calling Albert’s name,” she said in a slightly annoyed tone and he relented. “That’s Albert Simpson, right? The cop who was found murdered and mutilated?”

He shifted from her embrace and buried his head in his hands.

“It’s all over the news, Ryan. And you know what else is on the news? How that Alverez kid shot his girlfriend then killed himself. But the family lawyer is complaining that they’re refusing to release the body. I’ve heard things about Alverez and I have a really bad feeling about this,” she expressed.

“Don’t worry about it, ok,” he said dismissively.

              Alice looked at him. She could barely see him in the darkness. The night was only generous enough to reveal highlights of his face, but she was getting used to being left in the dark anyway. She cared about him deeply, but cared less about being pushed away. Ryan’s emotional isolation pained her, especially when she carried a secret that she needed to tell, but could not. The time just wasn’t right. Ryan was lost in his own world while she reveled in another.

The following day, the chief of police issued a high alert for all law enforcement personnel. Ryan and his colleagues gathered for a counseling session in light of Albert Simpson’s recent murder. There was no official motive, but attendees could not help but entertain a connection between his and Luis Alverez’ death. Ryan and Bret sat quietly listening to the theories and speculations. They knew exactly what was unfolding and had even greater reason for caution.

The session ended and the chief chatted with some of Albert’s closest colleagues. His phone rang. After a brief conversation he informed them that the Alverez family lawyer had obtained a court order securing the release of Luis’ body. Ryan and Bret exchanged a concerned glance. The chief seemed less concerned, except for whether due process had been followed and the seemingly hostile approach of the family.

By the next morning, a hearse left the city morgue with the body of Luis Alverez. The father entered his Bentley motorcar and followed behind after giving a group of officers, including Bret, a despising look. Ryan walked up and stopped beside them watching as the vehicles drove away.

“Where the hell were you?” Bret asked.

“My car couldn’t start. Battery died,” Ryan explained looking straight ahead.

A sudden explosion shook the morning air as the hearse burst into flames. Alverez’s car jerked to a stop behind the engulfed vehicle and he jumped out along with his associates. They paced helplessly within several feet of the blazing vehicle. Alverez paused with eyes and hands lifted towards the heavens then turned and looked behind at the officers standing in the distance.

Ryan looked at his partner who himself stood in silent observation. “Someone planted a bomb in the hearse,” he speculated.

“Or in the body,” Bret suggested then walked away.

              Ryan felt a bit relieved as the final piece of conflicting evidence went up in flames. He looked ahead at Alverez standing still in the road with fire and thick smoke ascending behind him. His dispassionate appearance screamed volumes. He remembered Mateo’s parting words in the cathedral. This was perhaps even more unforgivable, and Ryan wondered what his next move would be.

Within an hour, the mayor stormed into the precinct and traded shouts with the chief of police. He had a real concern that his city was now about to be torn apart by war, and sever the truce that he had worked hard to establish and maintain. The chief denied any knowledge of his officers’ involvement and took exception to the mayor’s approach. The mayor wasn’t satisfied and demanded a thorough investigation into the matter.

              That evening Ryan drove home from work with his senses tingling. Every sight and sound, everyone who looked at him a second too long, every car that followed more than a few turns, attracted his attention. He didn’t know how or when, but he knew that Mateo Alverez would hit back, and hit hard.

His phone rang and he veered off course to meet Ava who was waiting for him at an underground parking lot. He crept slowly, scanning every corner and crevice until he located her car.

“Hey,” he greeted as he sat beside her.

Ava responded in a quick, blunt manner without looking at him, but Ryan had gotten used to her emotional nature. She hesitated then began with what sounded like general questions about Alice and her well being. Ryan responded to her polite inquiry while waiting for her to address the real purpose of the meeting that she had requested.

“You guys ever been to Adrenaline Park?” she asked.

“What?” Ryan laughed. “Do I look like the kind of guy who goes bungee jumping or rock climbing?”

Ava looked at him and her mind went back to the previous weekend when she stood in line outside the rest room at Adrenaline Park, only to see Alice a few places ahead of her. Ava was surprised to see her, and would have been even more surprised if Ryan were there. She was about to call out to Alice when her phone rang.

“Keep your pants on baby. I’m waiting to go into the ladies room. Want me to pee myself while bungee jumping?” Alice answered.

Ava gasped, shocked and disappointed. She left quietly before Alice could see her.

              “You were off last Saturday, remember? Didn’t take her out?” Ava probed, hoping he would admit to stepping way out of his comfort zone this once.

Ryan became a little agitated.              “What is this, Ava? You called me here to talk about Alice?” he asked.

Ava considered for a moment then apologized.               “I’m just concerned about you getting so wrapped up in your work, that’s all,” she said. “Anyway, I guess you’re still not going to tell me what happened at the apartment the other day or to that kid’s body this morning. It’s way too obvious now. Think Alverez hasn’t done the math?”

She paused, hoping for him to follow through with information, but when he didn’t, she continued, “Listen to me very carefully. Know what I found out this afternoon? To protect the truce he made with the syndicate, the mayor agreed to name all who were involved in Luis Alverez’s death. I’m not sure why Albert was killed, but I’m willing to bet that you and Bret Mitchell’s names are on a list somewhere.”

“How do you know all of this?” he asked in a low, nervous voice.

“I told you, I have eyes and ears in the syndicate. Here’s what you should worry about: either the syndicate is going to come after you both, or Bret is going to put it all on you. Either way, there’s no way out for you,” she warned.

Ryan threw his head back and closed his eyes. Her theory was more than plausible. He was well aware of the syndicate’s capabilities and Bret’s willingness to do whatever it took to protect himself.

“So what happened to Luis Alverez, Ryan?” she probed.

Ryan looked at her hesitantly and in dismay. He ached to tell her, but held back out of concern for her well being.

“Good night, Ryan,” she said sharply as she excused him. As soon as he stepped out her car, she made a loud exit from the parking lot. After a minute’s wait, he left quietly.

              He journeyed home in deep wonder. There was too much to think about. There was Alverez and the syndicate, but now a gnawing discomfort permeated him as he pondered Ava’s questions about Alice. Doubts began to surface. He always had insecurities, but never about his trusted wife. Now he began to question what she really did with her spare time. He scolded himself for never caring enough to find out, but now he had to. Now he had to face his fear of confrontation.

He arrived home and entered the bedroom where Alice sat in the darkness watching television. He stood at the doorway looking at her. She smiled at him, waiting for his usual endearing greeting, but he just stood there looking at her in silence.

“What’s wrong, Ryan?” she asked as her smile faded.

“Did you go to Adrenaline Park last Saturday?” he asked.

She sat like a stone looking at him. Her mouth was open and moved ever so slightly, but no words came out.

“Made new friends, Alice? Or is it just one who means so much to you that you have reason to keep him a secret?”

She got up from the bed and peered deeply into his eyes. “Where were
you
last Saturday?” she asked.

Ryan scoffed at the irrelevance of her question. “Alice, please. At least give me the dignity. Who is he? Is it Bret?” he demanded.

“Ryan, please listen to me. There’s something I needed to tell you, but I was waiting for the right time,” she began to explained.

Ryan raised his head to the ceiling and laughed scornfully. He never though Alice was capable of having an affair and was disappointed in himself for putting that much trust in her. “How could you?” he said in an agonizing tone.

“Ryan, you have to listen to me,” she pleaded, but he argued, looking at her with scorn. His look was worse than his words and Alice grew inpatient. Her expression changed from one of shock to anger. She stomped across the room towards the dresser. After opening a drawer, she retrieved a fistful of letter sized prints and threw them at him. He watched them fall to the ground, and as they did, his mouth opened in shock. The images were dark, but there was enough light to reveal him as the subject, with his lips pressed against Ava’s.

He stood for a moment speechless then shuffled through one photo after another. “Where did you get these?” he asked. He could not deny the images, but only knew the circumstances were not as they appeared.

Alice’s disappointment was all too evident and her condemning look cut like a knife.

“Alice, please listen to me. It’s not what it looks like,” he said.

“But you’re not listening to me,” she complained.

She broke down in tears and sat on the floor weeping. Ryan instinctively stepped towards her, but hesitated. He had to be strong, he thought. For a little while he did not know what to do, whether to console her, or justify himself.

After a little while Alice stopped weeping and stood looking at him. He knew that look. It was one of stubborn resolve. Whatever had transpired between them was about to get worse.

“I love you Ryan, but all you do is push me away, even when my own life is involved. You need some time to figure yourself out, to figure out your priorities. When you do, you know where to find me. But I’m not going to sit here and wait for the syndicate while you make up your mind,” she said.

Ryan’s heart broke. He stood there with tears streaming down his face. He needed to be strong, but the stakes were too high. He loved her deeply, but could not risk being manipulated or taken from granted. Still he had other reasons. Maybe she was right. Maybe this was the only way he could keep her safe. He would never forgive himself if harm ever came to her.

The next morning Alice was gone. Her mother lived across state and was always happy to welcome her. Ryan sat in the bedroom the whole time. He did not watch her walk out. He sat in the company of his thoughts and mounting problems. How he wished these would leave like she just did. How he wanted to stop her. How he wanted to make her to stay.

CHAPTER EIGHT

It was a cold, rainy day, one as dark and gloomy as the occasion for which those mourning the death of Albert Simpson had gathered.  They stood patiently by the graveside beneath umbrellas as the priest issued last rites. Poor Albert, they thought. He was a dedicated cop who served his community and certainly did not deserve such an untimely and brutal end.

Ryan looked across at Albert’s grieving family. His wife stood beneath a wide umbrella with her thin frame clothed in black. She sobbed quietly as she embraced the shoulders of a pre-teen boy whose chubby appearance and thick glasses seemed a close reflection of what Albert might have looked like at his age. The boy stood motionless with a lost expression, leaving Ryan to wonder just how much he understood. Perhaps it was better this way, he thought.

He looked at Bret standing a few feet beside them wearing his trademark hat and a rain coat. His imagination ran wild and he wondered if Alice had been sneaking around with. He definitely seemed adventurous enough and part of him wanted to ask. A more sensible part of him prevented him from doing so. His free-spiritedness aside, he was definitely not her type.

Bret stood quietly by the graveside. He didn't seem to mind the streams of water running down his face and dripping from his beard. His head roved about busily among the attendees and surroundings. Occasionally he would look across at Ryan as if trying to get his attention, but Ryan avoided eye contact. He hardly seemed grieved and Ryan became even more suspicious of his involvement. Was Bret Dr. Williams’ murderous successor? Or was he behind those killings in the first place? Ryan lingered in wonder.

The mayor stood on the other side of the grave beside the chief of police. His umbrella hovered low over his head and prevented him from competing for airspace. It barely revealed his face to anyone much taller than he was, but his mouth could be seen circling in a chewing motion. It hardly seemed appropriate and Ryan felt a little irritated.

Ryan glanced at Ava standing a few feet to his right and remembered her words about the deal Mayor Richards allegedly struck with Alverez to hand over those responsible for the death of his son. Perhaps that is why Albert died, he thought. Did Bret do it to cover his tracks? Or did the mayor? Maybe Alverez had the personal satisfaction and got his hands dirty, Ryan thought.

The body was finally laid to rest and a gun salute brought the event to a close. As the crowd dispersed, Bret walked over to Ryan and whispered over his shoulder, "You know, I hate to say it, but there's a silver lining behind this dark cloud. With all this pressure Simpson would have squealed."

Ryan watched in surprise as his partner walked away. It was not unusual for him to hear insensitive words coming from Bret's mouth, but this was inexcusable. Moreover, it reinforced his suspicions and fueled his distrust.

Most of the mourners had already left when Ryan walked back to his car. He aimlessly drove around town as there was no one to go home to. He pulled up beside a deli and ran inside to grab a bite then started his journey towards home.

An unusual sound appeared from beneath the car and he could feel an imbalance. He had his suspicions, but dreaded the thought of what might be wrong. Pulling over was the sensible thing to do, and as he stepped out and into the rain, his fears were confirmed. He had a flat tire. He couldn’t believe his luck.

“Hey, what’s going on?” shouted a familiar voice behind him. He didn’t notice that a car had pulled over beside him, but as he turned around, he felt equally lucky to see a familiar face. Bret was soon standing beside him examining the damage. “You’re gonna change that in the pouring rain? Just lock it up. Come on. I’ll give you a ride home.”

Despite his apprehensions, the offer seemed enticing and Ryan stepped into the dry refuge of his partner’s vehicle. Bret drove slowly and seemed more restless than usual. For a while there was silence between them and both seemed contented with the sound of the rain pelting the rooftop of the car and the windshield wiper as it swayed from side to side.

“Hey, thanks man,” Ryan said breaking the ice.

“Don’t mention it,” his partner responded. He took a deep breath then continued, “Are you religious, Ryan?”

“I guess so,” he responded. The question took him back to the odd meeting with Alverez in the cathedral and he began to wonder.

Bret continued, “I was raised to believe that sometimes you have to sacrifice one man to save the lives of many.”

Ryan looked across at him. He never viewed his partner as the religious or philosophical type. His tone was forceful and Ryan began to wonder if Albert was the sacrificial lamb whose death would save the city from bloodshed. Then he recalled his earlier words at the graveside.

Ryan’s phone rang. It was Ava. “Ryan, where are you?” she asked with an urgency in her voice. “I told you Dr. Williams was no serial killer. He was only a scapegoat and now I can prove it.”

“Tell me about it. Raining cats and dogs out here too,” Ryan responded calmly while trying to give his partner no cause for suspicion.  Ryan’s pretense was enough to reveal just what she feared.

“Please don’t tell me you’re with Bret Mitchell,” she said anxiously.

“Oh yea, it’s really pouring," he answered.

Bret looked at him, wondering at triviality of the discussion and became a little suspicious.

“Jesus no,” she said. “Ryan, listen to me. Try not to react, but after the mayor's deal with the syndicate, Bret managed to strike his own deal.”

Ryan looked across at Bret in the driver's seat. His eyes were hungry and blazed in the lights of oncoming vehicles. Ryan's heart began to race as Ava continued her frightening revelation.

"He killed Albert and now he's under orders to kill you before midnight," she said.

Ryan became speechless. He looked at his partner and beads of sweat began to sprinkle his forehead. Bret looked at him, glanced quickly at the road ahead, then back at him. He knew something was wrong. He saw Ryan’s desperation and lowered his hand towards his holster.

Ava panicked at the silence, calling Ryan’s name again and again, but there was no answer. Suddenly, a gunshot blasted through the earpiece, followed by loud screeching tires and the sound of a collision. She screamed his name through the phone several times more, but all she could hear was a dial tone.

Ava threw her phone onto the car seat. She trembled and her imagination went wild. She feared for Ryan and dreaded what might have happened to him. Somehow, she felt responsible for him and hoped that she was not too late to save him. She sped away aimlessly without a destination, without a clue as to where they might be. She had to save Ryan and hoped that somewhere along the way she would find a miracle.