Her Eyes

Chapter 41: PANIC

The next morning Alex woke up to the smell of sausage and eggs. He sat up from the couch and stepped into the kitchen to find Norma scrapping some eggs onto a plate. "Oh, you're up," she smiled. "I made you breakfast."

He fought back an eye roll. "I don't eat breakfast," he protested. He hated that she did things like this, though deep down he appreciated it. She scowled at him, forcing him to have a seat. He glanced up at her, watching as she sat down. "We still need to talk about Norman." He tried to pick up his fork with his wrapped hand, wincing in pain.

She smiled at this. "You're gonna have to learn to use your left hand." He glared at her from across the table. She sighed, bringing her gaze down to the plate in front of her. "I know. I was looking into this place called Pine View; they house and care for patients like Norman. But just one night there would cost me an arm and leg."

He simply nodded. He knew he was going to do this for her—she needed his help. But he also knew she was too proud to ask. He turned back to the food. She was an amazing cook. He just didn't like the thought of her cooking for him. "You didn't have to make me breakfast."

She waved the thought away. "Please. It's the least I can do after everything you've done for me."

He smiled in appreciation. He finished eating and brought his plate to the sink. "I gotta head to work," he mumbled. He moved over to the doorway, glancing at her as he passed by. "You better not do my laundry."

As Alex entered the station he spotted Agent Babbit. She glared at him as he moved past her into his office. The hate was mutual. He knew she was after him and that she'd do anything to bring him down. But he didn't really mind—he had other things to worry about.

After a few hours of paperwork, the station received a call about a car sitting at the bottom of the bay. Alex shrugged it off, thinking it was probably some foolish teenage prank. That was until he got down to the bay and opened the trunk. Bradley Martin.

"I thought she committed suicide," Officer Jeffcoat stated over the sheriff's shoulder.

"Apparently not." Alex sighed. Looking at dead bodies was never exciting. He trudged back to his SUV and followed the others down to the morgue.

He tried to look everywhere but the girl. He hated being at the morgue. The chemical smell always gave him a headache. Several minutes passed before the pathologist finally acknowledged him. "It looks as if her head's been bashed in multiple times—maybe by a rock or something of the sort. She's been dead for a few weeks now. That's about all I can tell you—for now anyway."

Alex nodded, turning to leave. "Thanks."

After sitting in his office for a few hours, he headed home. He wasn't exactly upset over Bradley Martin's death—he didn't know the girl. But murder cases always affected him somehow. They took a little piece of him each time. When he got home, he found Norma in the kitchen. She was making dinner.

She turned around to face him. "Why don't you have any food in the house? All you have is frozen dinners." She was scolding him—he wasn't in the mood.

He could have exploded. Who was she to judge him? "I don't cook. I don't eat breakfast and I don't make my own damn dinner."

She knew this was about something else. She stepped closer to him, looking up into his eyes. She was concerned for him. He never had anyone care for him this much—not even just a little bit. "What happened?"

He sighed. He didn't like talking about things. But this was Norma—she was persistent. "They pulled a car outta the bay this afternoon. Bradley Martin was in the trunk. Her head had been bashed in." He took in the look of shock on her face. "She didn't commit suicide; she was murdered...pretty recently actually. It happened a few weeks ago"

She looked like she was about to faint. "Oh my god." Her eyes broke. "A few weeks ago, Norman was saying that he was leaving with her. And I thought maybe he was making it up. I thought she was dead. But he broke free and got out, and we didn't find him until the next morning. I didn't think anything of it. The blood—I thought maybe he'd found a dead animal in the woods and dropped it, trying to find his way home." She stared into his eyes, fully alert. She took a step back, shrugging it off. "But I'm sure it's just a coincidence. Norman wouldn't hurt anyone. He's the dearest boy."

He could see the panic in her eyes and hear it in her voice. He knew. "Norma."

She bolted for the door. "I should really be getting home. Norman's probably worried about me." He hated that she always did this—that this was her way of coping.

He grabbed her by the wrist, halting her. "Norma, he's gonna kill you."

She turned to face him. The tears welling up as she tried to speak. She shook her head. "I don't care." She was being honest for once. "He needs me."

Alex gently pulled her in. "I know he does. That's why we're gonna get him some help as soon as we can. We're gonna get through this together. I'm not gonna leave you, Norma. And I'll never betray you. I need you to trust me." He let go of her wrist only to find her hand clasped to his own.

Her eyes dropped to their hands. She slowly unwrapped the bandage on his hand and placed it on the table beside her. She ran her fingers along his cut and brought his palm up to her lips, gently kissing his wound. "I trust you."