Glass Eye: Confessions of a Fake Psychic Detective

Chapter 55

They wait until they're relieved by a handful of officers before heading back to the parking lot.

"Guilty people don't normally run, right?" Zandra says to Fred.

"Speak for yourself. You were plowing through this park earlier today," Fred says.

"Apparently plowing through this park," Zandra says, correcting him.

"Yes. Apparently," Fred says. He runs a hand over his buzz cut and scrubs his scalp with his fingertips. "I'll get this called in. We'll find her. You can't get too far in a stolen squad car."

"Don't forget her unmarked car, the Sunfire. You'll want to check that, too," Zandra says.

"Thanks. I don't need reminders," Fred says and waves an officer over. They talk briefly before being interrupted by shouting from the road running parallel to the park.

Zandra perks an ear toward the cacophony. That's not shouting. That's an engine revving. It belongs to a squad car barreling into the parking lot. Even at that speed, Zandra can see Charlie behind the wheel.

Fred and Herman scurry away from the car as it screeches into a fishtail across the parking lot. Zandra's not as nimble. The car clips Zandra's side as it skids past. She goes down to her knee, but the handcuffs and bad ankle throw off her balance. Zandra tips to the pavement.

A pair of squad cars slides to a stop in the parking lot, peeling off the road. They must have boxed Charlie in from either direction during her short-lived escape.

Zandra finds herself in the center of the 20 feet of pavement between Charlie's squad and the other two cars, hunched into the fetal position on the ground. Her body can't take any more, but it's soon forced to move. She feels the heat of someone standing over her. It's Charlie. And a Glock 22.

"Get up," Charlie says. Her voice is a little too calm given the situation.

The officers bark commands from their cover behind their squad cars. Charlie ignores them. Reaches down and grabs a fistful of Zandra's greasy hair.

"Fuck you," Zandra says as Charlie hoists her up by the head. Her scalp feels like it could rip from her skull.

Zandra gets the gist of what Charlie's trying to do. Take a hostage. Make some demands. Realize how fucked things really are and plug a bullet into her brain, but not before putting Zandra down first. Fairly standard stuff.

Which is all fine with Zandra. She thinks about David. About how if he can't swim upstream to her, she'll go downstream to him. Things might be better that way. They'd be dead as they were alive, tethered by similar fates despite the time and distance between them. They'd both go out in pursuit of the truth at the hands of something tied to the Carey family. Together again. Downstream. At Soma Falls.

Do it, Charlie. Pull the trigger. Make it easy. Suicide is too hard.

The officers don't give Charlie time to make demands. Her awkward attempts to get Zandra up off the pavement offer plenty of opportunities to unload into her head. And they do.

No. Please don't do this to me.

The explosive volley nearly saws Charlie's head in half. The contents empty onto Zandra like a bowl of spaghetti tipping over. Through the blur of gore, Zandra swears she catches a glimpse of David. In one long second, he drifts down the path to Soma Falls, slipping away from her once again. He hunches down to kiss Elle's lifeless forehead before slipping away.

Come back. I tried, David. I really tried.

But David doesn't come back. Instead, Zandra's attention is re-focused by an EMT standing over her on a gurney in the parking lot. Apparently, a good deal of time passed since Charlie's demise. Herman flanks the EMT, looking at Zandra with a concerned eye.