After the Evil – A Jake Roberts Novel (Book 1) (14 page)

“I liked that.”

Her head tilts back as she looks at me.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way,
Jake.”

If only women knew how sentimental and romantic men
want to be, how much we want that special someone to come along,
and make us feel the way she made me feel. We lock in another
passionate embrace, and kiss. The few moments it lasts causes all
sorts of feelings to surface inside of me. The most important was
feeling like a man again. The kiss ends and I can feel her
trembling a little.

“Jake, I have never been kissed like that
before.”

I get another incredible Lori Powers smile.

“Have you been saving that kiss just for me?”

A boyish grin appears on my face. No one ever said
that to me before either. I wish I had something clever to say. For
some reason, I’m thinking about how I learned to take down a
suspect in the academy. It probably has something to do with the
fact that I want to make love with her right now. I just don’t want
to scare her off. It also has been a long time for me. Besides, I
don’t want just a takedown. I want her for a lifetime.

“Command center to Roberts.”

She speaks in an elevated tone as the sensual
expression on her face is replaced with a smile.

“I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

My hand waves toward the billions of stars over our
heads.

“About how enormous the universe is, and how it
keeps expanding, and about how one day it’s going to implode, and
then all this will be gone.”

My eyes come back down from the stars and lock onto
hers.

“And I was thinking about what it would be like to
spend all of that time with you.”

“Do you mean that?” she says.

“Yes, I do.”

Lori looks up at the night sky.

“I’ve dreamt about finding someone who feels like I
do, who understands, someone who means what they say, and someone
with a genuine heart.”

We kiss surrounded in the silence of the night. Not
much else is said on the drive home. The open moon roof allows the
fresh night air in. The radio is off. The scent of her carries me
to another place. We hold hands. Neither wants to let go. The
garage door opens and I return the Lexus to its proper place. We
walk to the base of her front porch and I pull her close to me.
With both hands, I draw her face close. I want another Lori Powers
kiss.

“When can I see you again?”

“Jake tonight means so much to me. I had lost all
hope that there was someone out there like you.”

Her head falls onto my shoulder. With a slight tilt
of her head, she says she has to fly in the morning, but it’s only
a two-day trip.

“I’ll call you the minute I get back in, I
promise.”

Her words circle my entire body as if held by a
tether so I won’t fly off into the vastness of space. I run my
fingers through the golden waves of her hair, and down over her
soft neck. Her hands feel warm against my chest. We say goodnight
with one more kiss then I watch her climb the porch steps. The walk
to my car is only a step away, but I struggle to get my feet
moving. The drive to my apartment is only a blur. Back inside, I
stare out the window and watch the streetlights blow out like
candles on a birthday cake, while a new sun rises over the
buildings to the east.

I want to call her before she leaves on her flight.
I need to hear her soothing, healing voice again.

* * *

“You’re wasting your time. He’s just an old guy who
barely remembers ten minutes ago, I think he’s at half-zeimers.
Besides, I already questioned him, and I don’t think he can take
much more, unless you want me to rough him up a little. Man’s got
to be a hundred years old.”

Harmon’s frustration was maxed out.

Where are you, Jake?

“Bring him in, or if you think he’d be more
cooperative in his own environment we can drive over there.”

Mika thought it over and made a command
decision.

“Oh forget it, let’s go.”

She reached behind her temporary office door and
grabbed her FBI stenciled windbreaker. It was always a good idea to
wear one for effect. On the other hand, showing your weapon when
talking to a witness had a bad effect. It had a tendency to make
them a bit forgetful and nervous. As they walked out to her car,
Mika stated emphatically she was driving.

“Like it or not, I’m driving.”

She could not make out what Harmon was saying under
his breath, but she had a good idea. It didn’t matter. She had a
job to do. Rolling his eyes, Harmon hefted his mountainous frame
into the passenger seat of her car. As she drove, he gave her
directions with attitude and accentuated pointing.

“Left, here,” he said.

“Give the sarcasm a rest okay?”

Mika was frustrated too.

“I need your help, not another pain in my
behind.”

Mika swung the wheel and the car careened around the
corner. The weight of Harmon inside caused an imbalance and the car
dipped to one side.

“Where’s Jake? Isn’t he on this case anymore?”
Harmon said.

“You’re asking
me
where he is. You’re his
partner. You’re supposed to know where he is. Did you hear from him
this morning?”

Mika was being nasty because her patience was nearly
gone. She was also painfully aware of what her father had said
about the two of them, and how she still felt about Jake. She was
also unhappy, even jealous, about the fact he was interested in a
female witness.

Focus girl, you have a killer to find.

Harmon looked at Mika and shrugged.

“I think he’s still whacked about the shoot.
Honestly, don’t know how he stays in the game.”

She looked back at Harmon distracted for a moment
from her mission, while the wheels turned a little faster inside
her head.

“He doesn’t let on it’s dogging him.”

“Yeah, well I thought Abrams was going to help him
out of it, but that came to a screeching halt. He won’t go see
anyone else. He doesn’t believe they can help anyway.”

“Right, turn right, next light!”

When this is over, I’ll be there for him.

As she made the turn, the hookers standing on the
corner didn’t even draw an exclamation from Harmon. The turn put
them right behind a traffic jam. Her small palm smacked the
steering wheel as she surveyed the situation.

“This sucks.”

Harmon changed the subject.

“When do you have to head back to the Feds?”

He watched a group of tough young black kids outside
a food store.

“You’d have thought they would have been more help
with all of their fancy computers and experts.”

“Easy, don’t forget I’m one of their experts.”

She looked out the side window at the traffic.

“And why aren’t we moving?”

Harmon reached for the door handle.

“Want me to go see what’s up? Most of these cars are
small. I could clear a path for you, I’ll start with that little
Honda over there.”

His wisecracks elicited a small laugh and
subsequently eased some of the tension. Mika sighed.

“You know, Harmon, maybe I’m pushing too hard.”

He shifted in the seat and caustically scoffed.

“You think?”

In the passing of a millisecond, they glanced at
each other. The tone of his comeback started them laughing. It
quickly escalated into one of those laughters you couldn’t stop.
The two of them roared until their eyes were tearing. It continued
until Harmon held up his monstrous hands to call a truce, so that
both of them could concentrate on taking a breath. After their
empty lungs filled with precious air, it started all over again
until Harmon forcibly yelled.

“Hey, traffic is moving again.”

Mika recovered and shifted into drive. Both dried
their eyes and were back on the job. As she drove down the street,
Harmon pointed out the old man’s house. Mika continued past
Abrams’s residence, while she tried to visualize the killer’s
escape route. Profiling was what she was trained to do. She had
studied every word in Dr. Brussels’s texts, the man who originated
the concept. Her instructors at Quantico gave her everything they
had learned from years on the job. Mika was representing them all.
She was good at it, very good at it. Since she had been with the
FBI, she had tracked down some of the most prolific serial
killers.

The “Who’s Your Daddy” maniac was by far her most
challenging case. She could feel the burn in her stomach knowing he
had not been apprehended. It was taking too long, and it was
affecting her confidence level. The flowerbed in front of the
windows had captured his complete concentration, so the old man did
not notice the car pulling into his driveway. As Mika and Harmon
exited the car, they heard him lament.

“Too little fertilizer I guess.”

“Mr. Dickens?”

Harmon startled the old guy, causing him to turn so
fast, they feared he would lose his balance, or worse, suffer a
stroke. Harmon even started dialing 9-1-1, but stopped when he saw
the old man wave. Squinting, Mr. Dickens held his hand over his
eyes to watch them approach.

“Hey, you’re the policeman, aren’t you? Back
again?”

“Yes sir, Detective Harmon Blackwell, I spoke with
you early this morning. And this is Special Agent Mika Scott with
the F-B-I.”

He said it slowly making sure he got through. Mika
held out her identification. The picture of her and the printing
were far too small for him to read, so he reached into his shirt
pocket to retrieve his thick reading glasses. Harmon shot Mika an
“I told you so” look. Mika batted her pretty eyes at him.

“Mr. Dickens, I’d like to ask you some more
questions about what you saw the other night.”

“I already told the colored boy all I know.”

Harmon rotated to look at Mika with his eyes
scrunched together.

“Why don’t I give Roberts a call and find out where
he is. I’ll leave you here with the...Mr. Dickens.”

Not waiting for her permission, Harmon walked toward
the car and pulled out his cell phone. It was always difficult for
his big fingers to hit the tiny keys, so he used the eraser side of
a pencil to punch them. Jake’s phone rang once. Surprise covered
Harmon’s face when Jake answered. He didn’t know Jake was hoping it
was Lori calling.

“Would you rather we stand in the shade, Mr.
Dickens?”

Mika led him by the arm as they moved beneath an oak
tree.

“About that night, you said you were leaving I
understand, to visit relatives?”

Dickens nodded.

“That’s what I told him.”

“Which direction sir, were you going when…”

Harmon was furious.

“Where the hell are you, man? You’re supposed to be
out here doing your detective thing. I can’t do all of this by
myself.”

I want him off balance.

“I love you, man.”

I can picture him shaking his big head. The phone
drops to Harmon’s side while his other two fingers pinch the skin
between his eyes.

“That’s funny––‘I love you, man.’ Please, please,
don’t go there.

“So, where are you?”

“Well, if you had been to the briefing, you would
know that Harmon Blackwell,
colored boy
, broke the case wide
open.”

It was his turn to yank my chain.

“You broke the case? Now who’s the funny guy?”

I make light of what he said, but I realize how far
out of the loop I am. While I was out trying to recover my heart
and soul, I apparently lost my focus. Harmon chides me.

“I’m here with Mika right now. We’re in the middle
of interrogating him. She’s already slapped him a couple of times.
He’s bleeding from the cut at the corner of his mouth. I get a
crack at him next.”

“Really, so Sherlock where are you?”

“Abrams’s neighborhood where a neighbor, a real old,
frail, tiny white man is telling us everything he knows. He’s our
only lead. I’m tired of covering for you so get over here. Heal
already, you hear me, I feel your pain, but heal already!”

He let it sink in.

“I’m on my way.”

“Was that Jake?” Mika said.

“The very same Jake we all know and love.”

“Where’s he been?”

“Don’t know, I guess we’ll find out when he gets
here. Get anything from the old man?”

“Not much, a little.”

She looked across the street at the deserted Abrams
residence.

“Mrs. Abrams is staying with relatives while she
grieves. We’re right here, might as well go and take another look
around.”

As she crossed the street, Mika was lost in her
thoughts.

What am I missing?

She walked through the front door.

“STOP, STOP, F-B-I!”

Mika shouted and bolted toward the rear of Abrams’s
residence just after opening the front door. The intruder didn’t
heed her command. He moved gracefully and fast. If she didn’t know
she was chasing a human, she would have thought the intruder had
wings as he flew over furniture, and out the rear entrance. Harmon
took off behind her while drawing his service revolver. He had no
idea what she saw, or whom they were in pursuit of. He just did his
best to keep up. The sound of her voice trailed off as more
distance separated them, but he still had Mika in sight.

“GRAY SHIRT, BLUE JEANS, BLOND HAIR!”

Taking all of the necessary precautions before
bursting through arched doorways and rushing around corners, Mika
ran as fast as she could. She lost sight of the runner several
times, but caught enough glimpses to continue the pursuit. She
heard Harmon’s labored breathing behind her and prayed he could
keep up. The man appeared to be in his late twenties, maybe early
thirties, she wasn’t sure.

Come on Harmon.

Somehow, Harmon was able to call for backup in
between the wheezing. As he ran, thoughts about chasing down
running backs in college flashed through his head. His
determination kicked up the adrenaline. Besides, he couldn’t let it
get out a woman had beaten him to the goal. Fences, trees, shrubs
and homes blurred by them during the chase. More distance opened up
between the pursued, and the pursuers. Mika prayed she would bring
him down. Mika’s breathing became painful. Rather than shouting
again, she conserved the air in her lungs for the chase. Harmon
shouted.