Mirage

Chapter 3

Kevin Wallis was a strange man. His presence could both calm your nerves and unnerve you at the same time.

It was an intense encounter a couple of years ago that cemented Harrison and Kevin's friendship. An anonymous tip sent both of them, albeit begrudgingly, to Rylandgate. A notorious drug dealer had decided to throw his clandestine business at risk by holding two people hostage. While zipping through dinghy corridors, barely lit with yellow bulbs, Harrison could feel sweat dripping down his back. He knew the dealer was armed and dangerous. So was he. Yet the gun in his arm shook and he felt more anxious than dangerous. Handling a hostage situation had never been his forte. There were too many lives at risk, for his liking. So when he heard the hostages inside the room crying for mercy, he couldn't hold back. He burst through the door.

Mistake Number One.

He pointed his gun at the man, failing to notice an accomplice crouching in the corner of the room.

Mistake Number Two.

He felt the cold rim of a gun at his temple. His eyes widened, breath shortened. He heard a hysterical laugh and then felt warm thick blood dripping down his cheek.

Yet, he was standing still. Alive. The drug-dealer was not and neither was the accomplice. It was their blood splattered on his face like a grotesque mask. The hysterical laugh wasn't their either.

It was Kevin's.

He was a strange mixture of composure and hysteria. It could calm and unnerve at the same time. Yet, Harrison couldn't be more grateful. He was alive because of him.

Mistake Number Three. Avoided.

Harrison scratched his unshaven chin whilst staring at Kevin across the desk. Months of working without him had been agony in the beginning. The worst of withdrawals. Harrison, turns out, was too dependent on his unpredictability and this sudden weaning was too much for him to handle. A couple of empty liquor stores and bags of medication later, he finally felt comfortable enough to step in Pudswany Headquarters.

"This is macabre." Kevin pointed at the obvious while scrutinizing the photographic evidence of the tragedy. "Macabre, but brilliant in a way. Though, I'm not sure if the killer intended that..." 

Before Harrison could ask him about the streak of brilliance that their killer in question had the door of the interrogation room opened. A frazzled Meredith walked out and Harrison couldn't help but sigh in sympathy. The need-less interrogation was a formality that Harrison had tried his level best to protect her from. It was an unnecessary grilling of a person who claimed to See something and sought to inform the police to prevent the same from happening. Her eyes were red and worry lines marked her face.

Kevin beat him to her, however, and wrapped her in his embrace before he could move from his spot.

"Kevin?"

Harrison could understand her tone of confusion and mild apprehension.

Why would he hug someone who blamed herself for Casey's death?

Why would Kevin hug the one who blamed herself for his sister's death?

Dragging her from the room he called me over his shoulder, pointing towards the whiteboard that had the crime photos stuck haphazardly on it.

"Look at the pictures carefully. What do you think they look like?"

His eyes were gleaming, looking at us with the enthusiasm of a man who had chanced upon a great discovery and couldn't fathom how no one else saw what he did.

Meredith and Harrison's blank faces gave him encouragement to carry on.

"Look at the threads! The remains are clawed yet sewn together. At first, I thought it was an after-thought. One of those weird idiosyncrasies these psychos have but after looking closely it seems to be something done on purpose. It's actually brilliant!

  "I mean, doesn't it look like someone is trying to tie loose ends together? "