The Crossover (19 page)

“Anna! S L E E P N O W!” I commanded from the floor.

Anna collapsed.

The police officer fired his taser anyway. Anna’s sudden fall caused the officer to miss. He tased the profiler instead, causing him to dance around in his own urine.

I felt sorry for the staff but my heart was focused on Anna. This was an absolute cluster fuck. I rose to my feet and walked over to Anna lying on the floor. She was blood-soaked. Paramedics rushed in and treated the sketch artist and profiler. The police officers were groaning on the floor in agony. One had been bitten.

I had one last suggestion for Anna. A suggestion that went against my training and my better judgment. But these were desperate times.

I kneeled over Anna and put my hand on her head.

“Anna, you will never remember the events of this night or the night that brought you here. When you wake up you will think you are here for something else. Your state of mind is restored to its natural state. One, two, three, four and five! Awaken now!”

Anna’s eyes slowly opened. She was groggy but coherent. She looked around and observed her surroundings.

“What happened?” she asked.

“There was a prisoner who nearly escaped. He attacked a few officers and blood splattered everywhere. It’s okay now, he’s back in custody. Do you know why you are here?”

“Of course. It’s about the hit-and-run I witnessed a while back.”

“Yes, but we have the driver in custody now.”

“Oh, great. I guess you don’t really need me then.”

Anna was a completely different person. She was in control and seemingly unaffected by her past.

Carl stood near the front door, he wanted to speak with me in private. I knew this wouldn’t be pleasant. By wiping Anna’s memory I tampered with a virtual crime scene.

I followed Carl in to a private office. He slammed the door shut behind me. He was furious.

“Clay, what the fuck was that? I’ve got one officer en route to hospital and Charlie bloody pissed himself.”

“Carl, what you saw was a success. Our mission was to identify the perpetrator and we did that. His name is Matthew and he’s a student at Anna’s university.”

Carl calmed down a lot and even thanked me at the end.

I was driven home in a police car after I signed a nondisclosure form. I was still edgy, but I was comforted in knowing Anna would get her life back.

I wouldn’t rest until Matthew was in police custody.

³
Beverage: beer mixed with a soft drink

⁴
British expression of surprise

T
he drive home was somber. Before I knew it I was opening my front door and waving goodbye to the officer. The session with Anna wiped me out. I wanted to go upstairs get undressed and curl up to Monet and sleep. My furry feline friend was atop of the stairs wanting to be fed. I quietly tiptoed throughout the house to avoid awakening Monet. I opened the bedroom door and found Monet wide awake and somewhat flat. Something was bothering her. I sat on the bed next to her. She turned on the night light.

“Clay, you have dark circles under your eyes. What happened?”

“Honey, I really can’t talk about it. But she went into trance and we got a description. Hopefully it’s him.”

Monet massaged my shoulders and helped me undress. “Jo stopped by. She wanted you to see her before she left,” Monet commented.

“Where did she go?”

“Jo had another date and she wanted you to see the new Jo.”

“Another date?”

“I think she’s making up for lost time, babe. She had a brunch date this morning and now she’s off to see the show
Wicked
with some guy she met online.”

I was a little concerned for my friend whom I considered a sister.

“She’s gotta be careful. There are some nutters out there,” I replied.

Monet followed me into the bathroom and sat on the hamper while I showered. I could barely hear her over the running water. I stood in the shower and decompressed.

“Clay, we don’t have any secrets do we?”

I turned the shower off. I knew something was percolating.

“No, I tell you everything. I have nothing to hide. Why?”

My mind was searching for answers. I couldn’t think of anything. What did she find while I was out?

I stepped out the shower and Monet helped dry me off.

“I wasn’t snooping, but while I was on your computer I found something.”

I was sure anything she found had to pre-date our reunion, but I was wrong.

We laid across the bed naked and she put her head on my chest.

“I read your manuscript,
The Seduction of a Military Wife.”

Oh, shit.

I worried. I didn’t want to lose her trust and she was clear about how she felt about the idea of a book.

“Honey, I’m sorry. I never intended on publishing it, I promise. It was more of a therapeutic exercise.”

Monet sat up in bed.

“Therapeutic exercise?”

“You remember what I went through with Jo in the beginning. Writing was my escape. It also allowed me to relive old memories of you and me.”

“Clay, there are very intimate details of our sex life in the book. What were you thinking?”

I got out of bed and went into the study.

“Clay, what are you doing?” Monet asked.

“I’m deleting the manuscript. I shouldn’t have written it. I’m sorry.”

I opened up the file and placed my finger on the delete button. Monet stood behind me and moved my hand away.

“Clay, it’s beautiful. It’s the most amazing love story I’ve ever read.”

I was very surprised by her response. I swiveled around in my chair.

“Are you serious?”

“Clay, most men write letters about their feelings, you wrote a love story. And not just any love story, a killer love story. I had tears as I reminisced along with you. I liked your last book
The Mogadishu Diaries,
but I love
Seduction of a Military Wife.
Reading the book was like reading a love letter. I like the name you chose for me in the book, Monique. I want you to publish it.”

“Okay, but what do think your friends will say?”

“It doesn’t matter what they say; they don’t fall into the 3-F group.”

“What’s the 3-F group?” I asked naively.

Monet blushed before she responded.

“It’s an elite group. You’re in it.”

I was curious so I asked her to explain.

“If you aren’t responsible for putting food on my table, putting money in my pocket or my sexual pleasure… your opinion is just that. An opinion.”

I surmised what the three F’s stood for. I was a proud member of that club.

Monet hit the print button and picked up the stack of papers off the printer.

It was such an amazing experience to watch Monet read my love letter to her. Seeing her smile, laugh and reminiscence was validation for me. I played with her long wavy hair while she read. I’ll never forget that night.

The next morning I saw Carl unloading groceries from his car. It was a chance to clear the air. More than anything I wanted to know if he was still speaking to me after what transpired the night before.

“Hey, Carl, can I give you a hand?”

“Aye, mate. I’ve got to get a shifty on, Gabby is waiting to be picked up from gymnastics practice.”

“Carl, I really need to apologize for last night.”

“No need to apologize. I spoke with the mayor this morning. I left out a few details, but he was chuffed we made such headway. Mr. Matthew is under round-the-clock surveillance until we can link him to the other victims.”

I was relieved that Carl was in good spirits and seemingly unaffected by the trauma the night before. After we unloaded the last bag of groceries he stated that he was slightly worried about the perpetrator’s profile.

“Clay, I have Matthew’s complete history since he was in primary school. He’s not a clever lad, he’s actually quite thick. No priors either. I’ve been in the game a long time and his face doesn’t fit.”

Ring, ring, ring.

“Hey, Jo. I thought you were meeting Mr. Right tonight.”

Jo was upset.

“Clay, I think I’ve been stood up. I can’t believe I took a train to London for a no-show. I’m standing here in the rain and he’s an hour late already. It’s 8pm now. Maybe he’s seen me and didn’t like how I looked.”

“Jo, relax. You know how bad traffic is in London. Do you know what he looks like?”

“He’s tall, wears a pony tail and drives a black A5. I don’t even know what an A5 is,” Jo said anxiously.

“Jo, an A5 is an Audi. You looked absolutely stunning when we dropped you off at the train station. I’d be proud to be seen with you.”

“Clay, you’re good for my confidence. Wait, I think that’s him, he’s waving. He’s a handsome devil. Don’t wait up for me, Ciao.”

“Bye, Jo.”

Monet and I were emotionally invested in the book. She was my beta reader and editor-in-chief. We spent hours going over the manuscript looking for typos, omitted words and run-on sentences. Just before midnight, I got a
Facebook
notification while making my last correction. It was from my mom.

Call me. Love Mom

I always worry when my mom wants me to call.

“Monet, can you pass me my cell. I think it’s on the night stand in the bedroom.”

Monet returned with the cell, disturbed.

“What’s wrong, babe? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Monet handed me the phone.

I knew why she was so disturbed. The call with Jo was still engaged. She never disconnected the call. I put the phone up to my ear and listened in. I wasn’t being nosey, just concerned. I heard a door slam and a lot of movement of furniture. I was hoping to hear Jo’s voice. She never said a word and that disturbed me. Monet also listened in. After a few minutes I could hear a zipper being undone and a belt buckle hit the floor. The next sound was the noise of bed springs colliding in rapid succession. In the span of a minute we could hear someone grunting loudly. Monet was getting angry and concerned, especially following a series of grunts and groans and one final sigh.

“Did he just cum?” Monet whispered angrily, her fists balled up.

I knew how things appeared. It didn’t look good. I was hanging on to the hope of hearing Jo’s voice. It didn’t happen. I felt like I witnessed something terrible and my mind tried to reach a logical explanation, unsuccessfully.

The commotion didn’t stop, there was more.

We heard rustling of clothes and I think the phone dropped.

Someone spoke.

“Hello? Hello! Who’s there?”

I looked at Monet. His voice was unnerving for me and frightening to Monet. We didn’t respond.

“I know someone’s there. Fuck me.”

Click.

I hung up the phone after he disconnected the call.

He called back. The phone rang displaying Jo’s picture. Monet placed her hands over her mouth and shook her head telling me not to answer it. Monet was shaken; her eyes were overcome with emotion. I felt helpless. I worried for Jo’s safety.

I called 999 to report what I had overheard.

It was dismissed as an emergency. There was no proof a crime had been committed.

It was horrible not knowing what happened to Jo. I was scared for my sister.

N
either of us slept that night worrying ourselves over Jo. I called her home ten thousand times and there was no answer. I dare not call her cell. I knew the killer’s method of operation. It was killing me to know Jo may have met her death stuffed in a duffle bag and locked in a car trunk. While Monet napped I walked outside and saw Jo’s car in her drive. I looked left and looked right. No one was looking so I approached Jo’s trunk. Maybe she was inside. I knocked on the trunk several times before I yelled her name aloud.