Eyes on The Damned

Chapter 16

October, 2013

It was hard to believe he was actually doing this.

There were a hundred reasons to turn the car around and head home, but the only reason that mattered was going to be buried the next day. It would be a closed casket. Jim had done what he could to help her family through this, but this day was for him. A long drive. The first step toward a point of no return.

Jim drove out of state to buy a gun. He needed a gun that wouldn't be registered to him, one that couldn't be traced. There were plenty of gun dealers in Cascade where he might have obtained an unregistered or falsely registered firearm, but he couldn't risk being recognised as a cop. In another state, there was no such danger.

He was acutely aware that this meant he would be committing a federal crime if he went through with his half-formed plan. Which of course he wasn't going to do.

He convinced himself that the fantasy would be enough.

Jim drove back to Cascade with the gun safely concealed in his vehicle and several other things he had purchased stashed in the trunk. He reached home in the early hours of the morning and slept soundly for the first time since she died in his arms.

The following day he did all the things a grieving partner is supposed to do. He wore the black suit, accepted the sympathy and condolences, told a room full of people how much he loved the woman they were mourning. He managed not to look at Frazer, who was there with other friends from work. He nurtured the anger and hate because it was easier than crying for her.

That night he found himself outside Frazer's building. He stood in the shadows, looking up at Frazer's second floor window, imagining all of the things he would like to do to the murdering bastard. He did nothing, though.

At Cascade PD the investigation into her death appeared stonewalled. Jim tried talking to Gregory and Prior, even dropped hints about Frazer. Prior did pick up on Jim's hint and interviewed Frazer, but the son of a bitch must have been convincing. No one considered him a suspect. Jim knew that if they got Frazer to provide a DNA swab they would know he was guilty. But for that they needed probable cause...and they didn't have it.

On his next free night, Jim returned to Frazer's place. This time he went inside. He stood outside Frazer's door. There was a very familiar scent in the air. At first Jim didn't recognise it as Carolyn's perfume: he was so used to smelling it on her, and that was different somehow. Then he heard something and immediately recognised that sound.

From that moment, there was no turning back.

*

"What did you hear?"

Simon listened to Jim's story with a kind of sick fascination. The horrifying part was Jim's logic made a kind of sense. He was right about the dangers of accusing a cop, and Simon had to admit that had Jim come to him with the accusation, he might not have listened. Not under the circumstances. Not back in 2001 when Jim Ellison was a new detective, foisted on Simon because no one else wanted him.

Jim was silent and Simon repeated his question. "Jim, what did you hear?"

"I heard the fucker jerking off." Jim rubbed his face with both hands, leaning back against the cell wall. "He had something soaked in the perfume Carolyn always wore and he was jerking off."

Jim wasn't looking at Simon. His attention was inward; back in the past.

"You did kill him." Simon was sure now. The collar of his shirt felt too tight; he ran a finger along the inside to loosen it. He realised what he was doing and jerked his hand away.