#ship of moons

[twowritersoneblog-blog]

       Who the fuck does Tony think he is? Casper thought. A rhythmic thump was swelling up in his chest as he swung open the door to the station. The door was so old that the rusted hinges screamed out into the lobby, making Millie jump and let out a little squeak. Casper was so in his head that he didn’t notice Millie trying to get his attention as he walked past; he didn’t notice the little high pitched creee noise as Tony gently opened the door and stepped into the building. What he did notice was that Kerry wasn’t right where he left her. She was sitting cross legged on the little cot in the corner of the cell.        Kerry offered Casper a gentle smile as he opened the door. “Hey Ghostie,” she said as she stood up to meet him. Her wine voice was all but gone.        “You sobered up pretty quick didn’t, ya?” Casper said, holding the door open. “Maybe you didn’t drink that much after all.”        "Told you so, ya dum—" Two steps toward the door and Kerry’s knees buckled. She caught herself on the corner of the cot and shook her head. “Okay, maybe not.”        Casper reached his hand out, “C’mon Ker, let’s go home.”  She grabbed his hand, still giving him that gentle smile, the smile that said I’m sorry, Ghostie.        While leading Kerry back through the lobby, he noticed Tony, standing by the door and staring very intently—arms crossed, brow furrowed, the whole package. Millie sat at her usual station, but she was giving Casper a piercing side eye as she talked to the phone behind her hand. Casper reached to open the door and Tony side stepped in front of him. Pine and cedar filled Casper’s nose, Tony was standing too close and was being far too aggressive.        Casper pulled Kerry behind him, wolf protecting cub. “Tony, she just needs some rest in a real bed. In a place where she’s comfortable.”        Tony leaned next to Casper’s ear and kept his voice low. “Look man, I’m not on the attack here. Millie asked why you stormed through the building, I told her. She said she’s calling the chief, I don’t know to what end.”        “Tony, are you fucking with me?”        “I’m not fucking with you. I am guessing that Millie feels uncomfortable with you pulling rank and taking Kerry out of here like this.”        Casper thought about this for a moment. But just as he opened his mouth to respond, Kerry piped up. “Am I under arrest?” Her voice was clear as day.        Tony narrowed his eyes down to pencil points and glared at her. “You’re not under arrest, Kerry.”        She stepped out from behind Casper and gave Tony a little grin. “Do you have any reason to believe that I’ve been involved in an illegal act?”        Tony spat out the word “Fuck,” and stepped to the side, holding the door open. Not another word was said as they exited the building.        “Nice job with that, Ker-bear.” Casper said as they made their way down the wheelchair ramp.        She responded with a simple “Mm-hmm!” And left it at that.        If the ride back was anything other than silent, Casper didn’t notice it. He tried to speak to her a few times, asking where she was drinking, how she felt, if she was hungry. Eventually he realized that she was just being her usual, distant self. Is this normal, though? He thought, would she actually be this silent? He glanced at her through the mirror. She didn’t look drunk, she didn’t look despondent. “I guess you’re just not up for conversation?”        “I’m just tired, Cas. Just take me home, please.”

[twowritersoneblog-blog]

Chapter Two

                                                    KERRY’S SIREN

       Tony drove them back to the station, somehow still able to take small bites of his sandwich between speeches.

        “She had her I.D., man! Driver’s license, bank cards, a freaking picture of you guys at Disney. I’m sorry, but this is her, my friend.”

       Casper’s whole body became flushed, tingled, and there was an intermittent ringing in his ears. He was panicked, or in denial of his panic; it was the way his anxiety attacks greeted him way back in high school. But he was furious with Tony: How could he be eating?

       “Did she have a sister? A twin? Maybe she’s been runnin’ cons with her and it finally caught up to her.”

       Casper shook his head no. And then a second time, he merely shook his head. He’d been living with Kerry. She may have been different, distant, since the boat party. But that was natural; he’d be doing a lot of research and it was purely clinical, textbook psych. All of the drinking was Kerry, all of the fights and her questionable decisions were real; her trauma was real and he’d finally accepted that.

       “Not her,” Casper finally spoke in a whisper. “Maybe Roland, senior.”

       Tony laughed with a mouth full: “You think it’s Merrick? You think this is some kind of prank…or revenge for putting Roland Junior away? It’s a stunt to get you off the force, off his trail or some bunk? Conspiracies like that don’t exist, Maddox. They just don’t. I’ve been in the game ten plus years, you think I wouldn’t know?”

       “I wasn’t saying that,” Casper mumbled, though he knew he’d been considering it. “You’re the one suggesting she has a twin. I should know, okay? I know Kerry: only-child syndrome, substance abuse, daddy issues, laughs at her self-deprecation. And that person in the cell, drunk off her ass and sad as hell, that’s her, by the book. That’s still her. I know you wanted me to confirm her body there in the morgue—but I can’t and I won’t. That is still a Jane Doe. So open another case file, due diligence. I’m taking Kerry home.”

       Tony was quiet for a moment, which was unlike him. He faked a cough before speaking again. “…I don’t think you can, man. She might be part of an ongoing investigation now.”

       “Oh, fuck off, Tony. You can’t interrogate someone in her condition. I’m taking her home, getting her clean. I’ll go to the Chief with this if I have to.”

       The drive was forever long, and they were finally approaching the station, but Tony stopped the car just short of the toll.

       “Why are you stopping?”

       “I never thought you’d be so quick to throw me under the bus, man. Go to the Chief…who the fuck do you think you are? Who the fuck do you think I am, man?”

       Casper was deadly quiet, his instincts telling him to unbuckle now and make for the station, grab Kerry, the real Kerry, before anyone could tell him otherwise. He settled though and watched Tony’s eye-line shift from the glove box and the window to Casper—an angry nystagmus.

       “You’re gonna go in there, Maddox, and you’re gonna grab your girlfriend and go home. Stay home, take your sick days (you must have weeks racked up by now). I’mma tell Chief I advise it. Let me do the legwork. You go play caretaker, and I’ll play detective. It’s how it’s always been anyway…best not to forget that.”

       Casper resisted the urge to nod. “You let me take her, get her out of your hair. That’s all I’m asking.”

       “And that’s all I wanted…‘fore this development.” Tony resumed driving, flashed the toll attendant his badge, and found his marked parking spot by the dying garden; the daisies were slumped, defeated by last week’s harsh rain.

       “I can’t promise I’ll take time off,” said Casper.

       “I can’t promise Chief will give you that choice.”

       The two of them exited the cruiser. Tony took the steps, and Casper took the wheelchair ramp. He probably always would.

[twowritersoneblog-blog]

       Casper let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes hard for a moment before turning around to see Tony at the door, mouth still full of sandwich, looking like he’d seen a ghost. 

       Casper stood up and said, “What’s going on, Tony?” Tony took a moment to swallow his mouthful and said, “Act normal, okay?” His voice was barely a whisper.

       “Tony, what the fuck are you talking about?”

       Tony closed his eyes and collected himself. “Look, I just need you to come with me, okay Casper?”

       “I’m not on the clock, man. Can you not handle this on your own?”

       “This isn’t necessarily work related, Cas. It’s more of a personal nature.”

       At that point, Casper noticed that Tony had been shifting around uncomfortably; he kept peeking over Casper’s shoulder to look at Kerry. His hand was what did it, though—it was resting on the grip of his pistol. Although Tony was clearly nervous, his hand was calm. Casper thought, something’s wrong. 

       “Alright,” Casper said, before turning his attention to Kerry. “Ker-bear, I gotta go handle something, alright?”

       She was sliding from drunk to asleep. “What’s wrong, Ghostie?” Her question was aimed more at the cell than at anyone in particular. 

       “Don’t worry about it. Drink your water and try to get some sleep. I’ll be back soon.” He watched her nod, burp, and slump down into a mostly lying position; Casper then turned his attention back to Tony and said, “Alright, lead the way,”

                                                          ***

       Casper and Tony had been in the cruiser for some time without speaking so much as a word. Tony was visibly shaken, and though he had cleared his throat a few times, it was just an attempt to break the silence. Casper kept himself busy with thoughts of Kerry and the rift their relationship had become. 

       The cruiser went over a speed bump and knocked Casper back into the present. Tony, still looking tense, was pulling into a parking space in front of the hospital. 

       Casper’s mouth was dry when he started to speak, making his voice crack a little. “Are you sure this isn’t something you can handle, Tony?”

       Tony simply nodded, turned the car off, and got out. 

       The hospital looked the same as any other day, a series of coral colored towers with a quaint box of an entrance. The parking lot was mostly empty, which was strange for a Sunday, but not strange enough to explain the feeling in Casper’s chest. He felt like his ribcage was sinking inward—a vacuum in his lungs, pulling his bones and heart, making his organs fight to work correctly. As they reached the door, Tony noticed that Casper had stopped to lean against a column about ten feet back. 

       “Hey, you alright, Maddox?” Tony’s voice sounded pretty chipper, but he was still shifting around nervously, and he wouldn’t make eye contact with Casper. 

       “I’m good.” Casper said, touching his badge through his shirt pocket, “Just suddenly had a head rush. Maybe I should’ve eaten earlier.” 

       Tony gave Casper a fragile grin and said, “C’mon, this’ll all be over before you know it. Then you can get back home and get some food in ya.”

       The next few moments were kind of a blur; they spoke with a receptionist, they took an elevator down a few floors, they spoke to another receptionist, they stood outside of a door marked “morgue” as a doctor swiped his key card. Just like the ride to the hospital, Casper’s mind was on Kerry. He hadn’t thought of her this much in days, but now he couldn’t stop thinking about her. 

       The door beeped and they made their way in. The room was of course, very cold; Casper could see his breath in front of him and thought about cigarettes. His mind was still buzzing; his chest still felt like it was collapsing. A cigarette would be really great right about now.

       They stopped in front of a wall of drawers and while the doctor (mortician?) was speaking, Casper found himself unsure if he knew the man’s name. He just nodded along, having no clue what the man said. 

       The drawer slid out silently, and Casper knew that although he was off duty, he needed to really pay attention now. Whatever this was, it was important enough for Tony to drag him out here. 

       “Are you sure about this?” The doctor said.

       Casper’s throat was a gravel driveway, his voice, a slow moving car. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 

       The sound of the bodybag unzipping filled the room. Some dark hair tumbled out of the opening and fell away from a face. It was Kerry’s face—pale, bruised, and bloated, but unmistakable.