Speak No Evil

firecrackers.

Spectacular.

For a brief moment Nick forgot everything that troubled him. Before him the vast ocean unrolled endlessly, the sun illuminating everything in sight. The orange turned red as the sun rapidly sank lower, with finally just the tip visible on the calm water.

For a minute, a far too short time, Nick felt as peaceful as the glassy sea.

The sun disappeared. And while the colors were still vibrant, Nick saw that the ocean wasn’t as calm as he’d thought. Its waves crashed on the shore, the night claiming its time.

The mess of the police investigation brought home the reason he was here in the first place. He reluctantly turned from the view and dropped his bag by the door.

On the wall next to the door was a framed photograph of a former president of the United States handing a much younger Steve a commendation. Nick remembered that day nearly fifteen years ago. It had been before their parents died, shortly after he’d joined the police academy. Nick was idealistic and eager, and still thought he could convince his dad that he was just as heroic as Steve. That he, too, would have risked his life and saved those kids.

But Paul Thomas had only had faith in one of his sons, something Nick had never understood, and with his father ten years in the grave, he would never get the answers.

The one thing Nick could figure was that Steve had followed in their father’s footsteps. That he joined the army and moved up in the ranks. That he, too, had earned a Purple Heart. They had war stories to share, political discussions, a love of history.

Nick simply had a driving urge to right wrongs, and becoming a lawyer had seemed the perfect answer, until that day he knew he was destined to be a cop.

Some cops became cops because of tragedy, but Nick became a cop because of hope. He’d been at the police academy for a workshop on juvenile crime and gangs. One of the speakers was a kid, Jesse Souter, who’d grown up with a drug-addict mother and a petty thief of a father. Jesse’s time spent in and out of foster homes coincided with his parents’ prison stints. It was no wonder the kid had turned to crime.

But one day a Missoula beat cop had arrested Jesse for shoplifting a six-pack of beer and beef jerky. The five-dollar crime was a turning point. The cop befriended and guided Jesse, and showed him his own potential. Jesse grew up and became a cop himself.

He could have so easily gone the other way.

It was the hope that these kids could be helped, that all they needed was guidance and an example, that changed Nick’s career choice. He enrolled in the police academy the next day and never looked back, never doubted his decision. He couldn’t point to a Jesse during his tenure as a cop, but he knew he’d helped a few lost sheep find the right path. And that had been enough.

Looking around Steve’s apartment and the general mess left by the police, he thought that maybe he should have become a lawyer instead. Right now Steve needed a lawyer more than another cop.

Steve’s natural tidiness was still evident through the disturbance. Steve used the dining area as his office, and the empty place where his computer had sat looked particularly barren.

Along the walls of both the dining area and adjacent living room were framed articles. Dozens of them. Nick limped along, glancing at the headlines. Local soldier saves three dozen children. Sergeant Thomas brings fellow soldier to safety. Two presidential commendations for Thomas. Congressional Medal of Honor for saving schoolchildren.

And more. All the articles had pictures of Steve in uniform, all taken more than a dozen years ago.

Staring at the history of Steve lining the walls, he couldn’t help but wonder what Steve had really been doing for the past fourteen years since he left the military. He had no real job but collected a decent pension. He’d been going to college part-time for nearly ten years, dating a girl half his age, and getting wrapped up in a murder investigation.

The thought of Steve raping a woman made Nick physically ill. He wanted to stand by his brother, but if it were true Nick would walk away. He wouldn’t be able to look at the brother he’d long admired, long respected, and see in his face a rapist. A man no better than the Butcher.

Nick had told the two detectives the truth: if Steve was guilty, he would turn him in himself.

As Nick looked at the framed awards, the commendations under a spotlight, the newspaper articles and photographs, Nick wondered if he really knew his brother.

Every answer came back no.

TEN

ELIZABETH RIMES was the most beautiful creature on the planet. It was a shame she lived three thousand miles away.

She went to Atlanta Tech, which he’d discovered through a small picture on her online journal. She would never have expected anyone to research the statue in her photo’s background, discovering its history and location on the Atlanta Tech campus.

She lived in an apartment near the campus (“I bike to school every day. It’s a nice ride, not too far. But when it rains I take the bus.”) He figured out which Starbucks she frequented (“I sat and drank my latte and looked at the small lake. It’s peaceful here, I come by almost every day.”) Her favorite singer was Enya, her favorite color sky blue, her favorite movie Sleepless in Seattle.

He hadn’t seen Sleepless in Seattle until he read her journal, then he bought it. It was fate, an omen. The movie was about a long-distance relationship. A woman who was in love with a man she’d never met but felt she knew with all her heart and soul.

Just like he did about Elizabeth.

He had some money saved. He had it all planned. He’d register for classes at Atlanta Tech. Elizabeth had announced that she would be the teaching assistant for a computer design class in the fall. He would be in that class. Find an apartment near hers. Run into her at the Starbucks. Befriend her. Ask her out.

Kiss her. Touch her. Make love to her.

So beautiful. Long, long, soft blond hair. Sweet.

He’d been talking with her through her journal page for months. They’d become friendly and she had given him more details about her life, details that would help him track her down. He knew she had two cats. He pretended to have a cat, even took pictures of the neighbor’s cat to send to her, but truth was he hated them. Dirty animals who licked their butts and ate rotten food. Disgusting.

But Elizabeth loved cats, and so he pretended to. He looked at the picture of Elizabeth with her cats on her journal page and grimaced. One of them had its filthy tongue out and was about to lick her cheek.

When he arrived in Atlanta, the cats were the first thing that had to go. He’d taken care of the beasts before, he would happily do it again. She would never know what happened to them.

He clicked on the message icon for Elizabeth and wrote a message. It was perfect, and he knew she would respond.

Hi Elizabeth. I’m sorry I haven’t been around for the last couple days, but I had some sad news. Remember I told you about my cat Felix? I sent you his picture last month, he’s black and white and very friendly. Well, he was hit by a car Sunday and I took him to the vet but they couldn’t do anything. He died this morning.

I miss him already. The car didn’t even stop.

I wanted to share with someone. My roommate never liked Felix and doesn’t care that he’s gone.

I knew you would understand. How are Scooter and Belle? I hope they’re doing well.

By the way, I’m thinking of transferring to Atlanta Tech in the fall. I applied in the computer engineering department and my professor here gave me a terrific letter of recommendation. Do you know anything about AT? If you don’t, that’s okay.

Talk to you later, I’m going to take Felix’s food and toys to the SPCA, maybe they can use them. Maybe I’ll