William Bernhardt - Death Row

“I’m still not convinced,” Baxter said.

“Look around you. Do you see any sign of a struggle? Any indication whatsoever that anyone else was here? No. And there’s a reason for that. It’s because no one else was here.”

“Or maybe the assailant tidied up afterward. He had plenty of time.”

“I’m with your partner,” Ben said. “How can you be so sure?”

“Listen to me, kemo sabe. I’ve seen you when you get that I’m-on-a-mission-from-God look in your eyes, and I know it never turns out well. I also know you’ve been working on this Goldman case for years and that you’d do anything to get him off death row. But there’s nothing here for you.”

Ben stared at the bed. “I have to explore every possible avenue.”

“Fine. You do what you have to do. But at the very least, you should let Christina work on a case that has a paying client. Otherwise, you’re going to end up practicing out of the back of your van.”

“Thanks for the financial advice.”

“I’m just trying to help. I’m your friend, remember? I’m family. Sorta kinda.”

“Yeah. But the fact that you’re still carrying a torch for my sister doesn’t mean you’re right.”

Baxter’s head turned at that.

“I can tell you this for certain,” Mike replied. “As soon as I get back to the office, the Erin Faulkner death is going to be a closed file.”

“Is that so?” Baxter said, one fist on her hip.

“Yeah. That’s so.”

“In that case,” Ben said, “since there’s not going to be any official police investigation, can we at least agree to share information?”

“You’re not listening to me, Ben. There’s not going to be any information to share.”

“You never know. Something might turn up. Let’s keep each other informed of what we’re doing.”

“If it will make you happy, Ben, fine.”

“It will.” He smiled slightly. “I’ll put a good word in for you at the family reunion.”

“Please don’t. The only person on earth your sister is less fond of than me is you.”

“Good point.” He crossed the room and extended his hand. “Pleasure meeting you, Sergeant Baxter.”

“Was it?” She didn’t shake.

Ben drew in his breath, then gave Mike a smile. “And good luck with the new partner, Mike. I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

Did they know what he had done? Gabriel Aravena wondered. Did they know it was him?

Everyone who entered the FastTrak today seemed to be staring at him. Perhaps he was just imagining it. The delusion of a guilty conscience, that’s what Dr. Bennett would say. But no matter how hard he tried to tell himself that-there were still those eyes! Those damned eyes, staring at him, constant, unrelenting. He’d like to rip them out and-

He clutched the cash drawer, trying to steady himself. Get a grip, Gabriel. You are too close. Too close to spoil it by doing something stupid now. So what if they are staring? If they’re staring at anything, it’s probably your great big womanlike breasts. It’s probably the-

“Like… do you carry bras?”

Aravena’s eyes narrowed as he peered down at the two blonde teenage girls leaning across the counter. “Why do you ask?”

“How about… because I need a bra?” the one on the left said. “Duh.”

Aravena lowered his gaze, making no attempt to hide where his eyes were going. As far as he could tell, she actually had very little need for a bra.

Of course, he liked them like that.

“I’m sorry, miss. We don’t carry clothing. This is a convenience store.”

“I know what it is, Professor. I just thought, maybe, you might have a private stash of bras around.” She began to giggle, then she and her friend skittered out the door, laughing all the way.

“Obnoxious little tramps.” His assistant manager, April, had returned from the storage room. “What do they think this is, Sears?”

“I believe they were making a little joke. Or so they thought.”

“I’m sorry, Gabe. Girls can be such bitches sometimes.”

She would know, he supposed. April was only seventeen herself. She was five feet three and trim and athletic; he could tell from her arms that she worked out regularly. “It’s nothing. Really.”

“How was the doctor appointment yesterday?”

“Oh fine, fine.” April had never asked, but she must suspect that the doctor he took off work to see once a week was a psychiatrist, just as she must have guessed that medication was enlarging his breasts and causing his hair to fall out. How much did she know about his past? he had often wondered. The owner knew, of course, and the flunky who had hired him. He had no way of being certain, but he suspected they had also informed April. A corporate variation of Megan’s Law-inform the young female employee that the man she’s working with is a former sex offender. Convicted of a crime involving an eleven-year-old girl.

If April knew, she didn’t appear to hold it against him. To the contrary, she made a point of being open, casual, friendly. Joking around. Making a show of the fact that she could handle it. That he didn’t make her uncomfortable. Except of course that the fact that she had to make the show proved that he did.

And she wasn’t the only one putting on a show. He was performing, too, every day they were together. He also had to be open, casual, friendly-but not too. And it was hard work. Because he liked April. Very much. She was almost exactly his type. Dark hair, dark eyes. A little old, but in truth she didn’t look her age. Sometimes, when he was certain she wasn’t looking, he’d cop a look at her bending over in the storage room, or adjusting her sports bra in the mirror. And when he did, he’d feel something. Very definitely. Something.

Not like he used to. Not like before the medication. But the Depo didn’t eliminate sex drive, as Dr. Bennett had reminded him countless times. It only suppressed it. And as long as he had gone without… release, all the drugs on earth couldn’t suppress everything he was feeling.

“D’you do anything fun last night?” April asked.

Why did she want to know? His head jerked around. “Nothing much. Watched television. You know.”

“Yeah. D’you see that deal on PBS about the spiders?” She shivered. “I hate spiders.”

As she shivered, her whole torso, even those petite little titties tucked away in that sports bra, shimmied in a way that made him feel as if he must knock her to the floor and take her right now. Take what he wanted, what was his. Lick her and bite her and do her, hard. Over and over again. Do her over and over again until she was unconscious. Just rip the damn uniform off her and take her-

“Is something wrong?”

Aravena shook himself back to earth. “No, nothing. Why?”

“You seemed… I don’t know. Lost in thought or something.”

“I’m just distracted. A lot on my mind. I’ve had… some troubles, lately.”

“Sorry to hear that.” She reached forward and gently placed her hand against his cheek. “Is there anything I can do?”

That just about did it, right then and there. The warm, electric touch of her hand on his cheek, coupled with those magic words. Is there anything I can do? He was fully erect now. It had been weeks since he’d felt like this. “No… I-I’m fine.”

“Really?” She removed her hand. “ ’Cause you don’t look fine.”

Aravena took a deep gulp of air. Control, he told himself. You must stay in control. There are security cameras in here. He couldn’t risk blowing everything. Not when he was so close. “No, I’m okay.”

“Whatever. Want me to get the receipts?”