Tomorrow Is Never Promised

Chapter 10

Ethan

I’m a f*****g moron.

I tried to keep my eyes on the road as I drove us towards Forest Park which was on the other side of the St. Johns Bridge from where we were. It was hard to do that however with Oliver sitting next to me.

I stole a glance at him for a split second. He was staring out the window, the lights from the bridge glowing against his face and bringing into light his expression. He was struggling with this just as much as me, I could tell. That still didn’t excuse the fact though that I was kind of hurt. We were having such a good time, playing the piano together, something I hadn’t done with anyone else since…

Then he said my name, my actual name. Not detective, not Beck, but he called me Ethan, and why the soft sound of my voice on his lips made me just melt I couldn’t quite comprehend. Then, just when I thought we were going to give into these feelings we both had for one another, he jumped off the bench and made a break for the kitchen. Sure he made the excuse of needing to pull whatever the f**k was so important out of the oven, which I suppose was a decent excuse. That still didn’t explain why I felt like someone took a s**t on my feelings.

This. This is why I told myself I would never get involved with someone from work again.

I drove us up a steep hill with lots of twist and turns, bordered on either side by a thick forest of trees. About a mile up the road I pulled into a dirt lot that had other police and official vehicles taking up space. I managed to cram my car in between a police car and an ambulance before the killing the engine and hopping out.

I made my way towards a trail that was cordoned off by police tape, I flashed my badge to the officer and he nodded before holding the tape up for me and Oliver. We ducked underneath and began making our way down the trail.

It was pitch black, with the only light being small spotlights that were strategically placed so we and other officials could make our way down to the scene. Our footsteps crunched against the dirt and hard ground as we descended down into a ravine that seemed to be never ending.

“Did Sully say anything about the victim.” Oliver asked.

“Just that it was a female victim.” I replied shortly.

I winced at that. I shouldn’t be so short with him, it’s not his fault that I’m having all these hangups right now. In fact, I shouldn’t even be having these issues right now, I only have myself to blame. But dammit, I wanted to be just a little salty.

It only took us about five minutes to get the scene. It was about ten feet off the path in a little clearing, which was lit up like a stage for a Delta Riggs concert. It was even a wonder how I didn’t see this from the road.

I approached Sully, who was crouched next to a mass on the ground, across from him was Doctor Buckley, one of the primary medical examiners for the county. I had only talked to Mason Buckley a couple times, and read over his reports. From our few encounters he was very quiet, spoke mainly in grunts, but was also very intelligent. I was curious why he was out here though, the medical examiner usually stayed confined to their little, cold, brightly lit dungeon, I know Doctor Buckley would be more than inclined to that scenario.

Sully noticed me approach and stood up, meeting Oliver and I halfway. “Prepare yourselves for this one.”

I quirked an eyebrow in response and stepped around him to get a better view of the body. It wasn’t nearly as gruesome as Joseph and Patti Franklin. She was fully clothed, and actually, there didn’t seem to be a drop of blood anywhere around her from first glance. Except…

“Where the hell is her heart?” I blurted out, standing over her body.

“It was removed.” Doctor Buckley responded blankly. He gestured around the hole where her chest cavity was wide open for the whole world to see. “The edges of the wounds suggest that it was removed rather crudely as well. Whoever did this obviously didn’t know what they were doing.”

“So now we got some asshole running around taking people’s hearts out?”

Doctor Buckley met my eyes, there was some glint behind them, like a kid who discovered some interesting new play thing that would forever change his world.

“That’s not even the half of it detective… There’s no blood.”

“What?” It was Sully’s turn to speak up now.

I just stood there, taking in everything he was saying. How was there no blood? The last two crime scenes were very heavy on the blood, but now our killer chooses no blood? Not a drop? Not a cell?

“Whoever did this drained her of her blood completely, then removed her heart, then dumped her here.”

“Have you ever seen anything like this?” I asked.

Doctor Buckley shook his head, before tearing off his gloves and rising to his feet. He had an almost impressed look on his face which I would be lying if I said didn’t creep me out slightly. “No, never.”

Great. So now the killer is changing things up on us again.

“What do you think of this Oliver?” I turned to where I thought he was standing next to me, but he was gone. “Oliver?” I looked to my other side and saw him holding an evidence bag with what looked like a piece of paper in it. “You find something?” I asked, approaching him.

“Oh yeah. That was attached to the body. None of us know’s what it means.” Sully spoke up from behind me.

Oliver didn’t look away, he just kept staring at the piece of evidence. As I drew nearer I realized it wasn’t a piece of paper, it was a picture, more precisely a picture of a woman. I peered over his shoulder to get a better look. She was beautiful, with brown curly hair, piercing brown eyes, and a beautiful smile on her full lips.

“Do you know her or something?” I asked flippantly.

“Yeah,” His tone was small and cracked slightly. “It’s my mother.”

I froze, that sentence hitting the bottom of my stomach and making me slightly nauseous. Why would there be a picture of Oliver’s mom at this crime scene. I shot a glance at our victim and then back at the picture he was holding.

“Lemme see that.” I reached around him and took the picture from his grasp and studied it closer.

Our victims had a close resemblance to Oliver’s mom. Same color of hair, even the waviness. Even though our victims eyes were a slight milky white I couldn’t mistake the slight faded brown still there. This couldn’t be a coincidence, this was too spot on to be one. The killer was sending a message. A message intended directly for Oliver.

I looked back at him and he stared back at me, an almost blank expression on his face. This had to be hitting him in a deep emotional place, one that I couldn’t even begin to fathom.

“Oliver…”

“I’m fine.” He quickly said, even though I could tell otherwise.

“It’s okay-“

“I said, I’m fine.” He punctuated.

I wanted so much to wrap him up in a big hug, tell him that everything would be okay. No, I couldn’t do that. That’s not what partners did. I would just have to-

At that moment there was a rustling behind him which got us all to look in its direction. I drew my sidearm and placed a hand on Oliver’s shoulder, pulling him around behind me and putting me between him and whatever was in the bushes.

“It’s probably just an animal.” Sully spoke up in an amused tone.

It could be. But I wasn’t taking any chances.

Once I got closer to the bushes I caught the glimpse of something shiny, almost glossy, reflecting off the lights from the crime scene. I rolled my eyes and holstered my gun letting out a growl of frustration.

“You have got to be f*****g kidding me!”

Two figures popped out of the bushes. One, a rather burly man holding a rather large video camera on his shoulder, the other, I knew exactly who it was before they even showed themselves.

“You do realize this an active crime scene right?” I growled.

“Oh come on! You know as much as I, that this is the biggest story this city has ever seen!” Samantha put her freshly manicured fingers on her hips, c*****g them slightly.

“That’s the problem with you journalists. All you care about is your next scoop.” I was fuming, practically radiating heat off my body with how angry I was.

“Somebodies gotta report this story!”

“Oh you’ll report it,” I take a step forward. “From the inside of a cell.”

Her bright gray eyes went wide with horror. “You can’t do that… Haven’t you heard of freedom of the press?”

She probably had a point, I wouldn’t be able to arrest her without serious repercussions. But in that moment I was so irritated. Didn’t these people have any respect for these victims, any respect for their families?

I looked over at a group of officers who were watching us intently. No doubt waiting for a smackdown to ensue. I recognized one of them from from the Kyle Harding scene.

“Herring!” I barked.

He gave me a bored look, but approached regardless. Once he was standing to my side I turned my icy glare on Samantha.

“Escort Miss Schaefer here out of the crime scene, and make sure she doesn’t come back.”

He gave a curt nod and reached for Samantha who gave him daggers for eyes.

“Don’t touch me with those grubby hands. I can escort myself out.”

She gave me one final smirk before brushing past me, her loyal camera man following close behind. When she approached Oliver she stopped and gave him a glance.

“Do you have anything to add in regards to your mothers portrait being found with the victim?”

A deep, protective growl escaped my throat. She could question me all she wanted, but like hell was she going to question Oliver with what he was currently going through.

She threw me a glare, straightened her olive green jacket, and then continued her trek out of the crime scene. I watched her go, making sure she wasn’t going to try and hide off in another set of bushes somewhere. I approached Oliver, who was currently staring at the ground, and placed a hand gently on his shoulder.

“Ollie…”

He shook my hand off, not making eye contact with me. I felt a painful twinge in my chest, like I had just been scolded for something that I wasn’t aware I did.

Don’t take it personally. He must be reeling right now.

No matter how much my brain made sense, my heart felt something completely different. I felt like Oliver was slipping away slowly, and I was grasping to keep him close to me.

“I just need a minute.” He responded solemnly, not making eye contact.

No matter how much I wanted to reach out and stop him, I didn’t. He needed space right now, he didn’t need an overbearing partner. He needed someone who understood, and if anybody understood it was me. True I couldn’t completely get what he was going through, but I could try, when he was willing to let me.

I watched as he made his way back to the path and disappeared down the trail of lights.

“What was that about?” Sully approached.

I sighed and turned around to face him. Feeling more like a defeated teenager than a thirty year old man.

“I’m a f*****g moron, that’s what that was about.”

His expression split into that of confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

I froze. Were we thinking about two completely different things? And did I just out my very frustrated attraction towards Oliver to my superior?

“What are you talking about?” I asked cooly.

Sully held up the photo of Oliver’s mom and I gave myself a mental whack in the head. Oh, duh, of course he would be talking about the scene. Ya know, the thing were supposed to be concentrating on.

“That’s Oliver’s mom.” I answered, grateful at the change in subject.

Sully looked at the picture and then at the victim.

“Bears a similar resemblance right?” I asked, reading his thoughts.

He nodded his head and studied the victim for a bit before turning back around to face me.

“What I don’t understand is, why Oliver? How is he tied to all of this?”

“I wish I knew.” And I really did. There was something that was connecting Oliver to these cases, I could feel it. Call it intuition if you will. Did the killer know Oliver, and if so, what was that connection?

“Well it’s pretty obvious…” Mason spoke up and Sully and I both turned to face him.

“Please, enlighten us.” Sully remarked.

Mason thought for a moment before finally speaking. “Well, Doctor Reagan get’s a phone call from the killer right, then he get’s chased through his house and escapes with minor injuries-“

“Whoa-whoa,” Sully threw up a hand. “How do you know about that?”

Mason gave him an amused look. “C’mon detective, even you know how quickly information spreads through the department.”

Sully rolled his eyes. “Fuckin’ gossips.” There was a slight pause and then Sully gestured for him to continue.

“So, he escapes right? But then there’s another victim, this time, one that bears a similar resemblance to the late misses Reagan and the killer strategically leaves a picture of her at the crime scene with the victim.”

My face started to get warm as he continued his theory. Was he suggesting what I thought he was. “Are you suggesting Oliver is the killer?”

Mason’s eyes went wide and he shook his head adamantly. “No! No of course not! What I’m suggesting is that whoever the killer is has extensive knowledge of Doctor Reagan and his background, I would even go as far as to say that the killer has a special interest in his history. The fact that the killer removed only the heart and left the victim otherwise intact, unlike the previous victims, suggests that this is a very personal matter to them.”

I c****d an eyebrow at him. How did he know so much about this stuff? I mean sure he was a medical examiner, but this is the type of stuff that Oliver would be doing.

“I watch a lot of true crime documentaries.” He explained.

“Clearly.” Sully responded in a curious tone.

I thought about what Mason had said, about the killer having a special interest in Oliver. It wasn’t completely far fetched, and I had to admit, it was a damn good theory.

Oliver

I slowly made my way up back up towards the road, as far away from the crime scene as I possibly could.

Why my mom? How did she have anything to do with this? More importantly, why was the killer setting his sights on me now?

These are all questions that go on a constant loop in my brain as the ground crunches beneath my shoes and then before I know it, I find myself on the road. The dirt parking lot is empty except for an ambulance, a few police cars, and Ethan’s car. I approach his car and lean up against it, staring up into the sky at the little stars I could see from the light pollution of the city.

“You see those three little stars there?” I hear my mothers voice break through the veil.

“Yeah.” I responded.

“That’s the handle… Now go to the left to the next star… then down to the next star… then right to the next,” I could practically feel her hand covering mine as she moved my hand, pointing out each star in the constellation. “Then… it’s back up to the handle.”

“What is it mommy?”

“That’s the Little Dipper.”

I wiped the palms of my hands across my eyes clearing the tears from them.

“Doctor Reagan?” I jumped at the sound of a voice, whirling around to see where it came from.

That officer that Ethan asked to escort Samantha Schaefer off the crime scene was standing to my left at the back bumper of Ethan’s car. I think his name was Herring?

“Oh, Officer Herring.” I sniffed and dried the rest of my tears with the backs of my hands.

“Are you okay?” He asked, although I didn’t hear much concern in his tone.

“Oh yeah,” I nodded and chuckled dryly. “I’ll live.”

He studied me for a second with his deep brown eyes. There was something in those eyes that seemed really familiar, like I knew him from somewhere else.

“Have I seen you before? I feel like I know you from somewhere.” I stated.

His eyes shine and then just as quickly go dark again. “Probably from the other crime scenes, I’ve been at all of them.”

I nodded my head. That made sense, I mean he was a police officer, as a matter of fact, there were plenty of the same officers and CSI that I see at every crime scene.

“Ya know,” He took a step forward, his gaze lifting to the stars above with a sense of wonder. “My mom always used to say ‘life’s under no obligation to give us what we expect.’.” He dropped his gaze back down to mine.

I scrunched my face in an uneasy expression. “That sounds really depressing.”

He barked out a laugh and shook his head. “She was kind of a realist.”

We met eyes again, but this time, there seemed to be some invisible connection between us that I couldn’t put my finger on. All I could do was simply stare at him.

“I swear, I know you from somewhere.” I urged.

I racked my brain, thinking of where I could possibly know this man from. College? No, I don’t think so. High School maybe? The more I thought about it, the more ridiculous the idea seemed. There was a one and a million chance that I’ve met this man before I started working in this city.

He shrugged nonchalantly and gave me a crooked grin. “Maybe we knew each other in a past life.”

And just like that he lost me. I chuckled slightly and shook my head. “Yeah, I don’t believe in that stuff.”

“Maybe you should.” He reasoned with another shrug of his shoulder. He gave me a boyish grin and began to walk away.

“Wait,” I stopped him. “I didn’t get your name.”

He stuck his hand out almost immediately. “Seth Herring.”

I took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “I’m Oliver.”

He smiled again. “I know.” and with that he turned around and stalked back towards the trail to the crime scene.

I watched him until he disappeared, still racking my brain to figure out where I knew him from. He was a little odd. Nice, but odd.

Before too long Ethan joined me at his car, that look of concern still plastered over his ruggedly handsome face.

I reassured him that I was okay and that I just wanted to go home and sleep. He didn’t seem to buy it, but didn’t push any further. That’s honestly one of the things I liked about Ethan, he didn’t push.

The car ride back to my house was silent for the most part. When we began crossing over the bridge into St. Johns he finally spoke up.

“I can’t begin to know what you’re going through Oliver,” I glanced over to see him focused on the road, the light’s from the bridge illuminating his features. “But I’m here for you when-if, you wanna talk.”

I relaxed into the headrest as I kept my gaze on him, observing every line, the way his beard was meticulously groomed, the small mole on the right side of his cheek that I had never noticed before. The imperfection just made him even more handsome in my eyes.

When I spoke my tone was just above a whisper. “Thank you.”

He looked over at me, our eyes connecting. There was something serious in his, like caring and wanting all wrapped up in it’s mossy depths. I just wanted to be embraced in it, embraced by him. I feel like being in his arms would just melt all my worries away.

“Your welcome.” He responded softly.

We arrived at the house and climbed out of his car, trudging our way up the steps towards the front door. As soon as the door swung open Ethan was at the little keypad, punching in a code for the security system that I already forgot I had.

I made my way towards the stairs, but as soon as I lifted my foot for the first step I felt a hand grab me by the arm. I turned to face Ethan, my eyebrows pulled together in confusion. He didn’t say anything, just simply pulled me towards him and wrapped his big arms around me.

A sigh of relief escaped from my lips as I let my head rest against his chest. He rested his chin on top of my head and pulled me in closer to him, like he needed the hug as much as I did.

I listened to his heartbeat, the soft lub-dub of it relaxing every fiber in my being, his chest rising and falling with every breath he took. There were no words, words didn’t need to be said, it was just our bodies communicating with one another as if by osmosis. I wanted to stay like that forever.

When we finally split apart, he kept his hands on my hips and mine were still slung around his neck. His eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

“You’re crying.” His tone was soft as he reached up with a hand and stroked his thumb across my cheek. The sensation of its rough surface sent sparks through my body causing my breath to catch.

I rolled my eyes, cursing my stupid tears for ruining this otherwise amazing moment. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Honestly I didn’t. It was like that crime scene awoke some feelings that I had repressed deep down, feelings that were never resolved surrounding my parents death. It may also be the fact that the killer was obviously after me now as well, and not only that, but using my mother’s likeness as a target for his next victim. I mean, it was only a theory.

“It’s okay.” He replied softly, pulling me back into him.

He squeezed me tight, not so tight that it was suffocating, but just enough to make feel safe. Like he was a rock in a stormy sea and I was a sailor who was shipwrecked and holding onto it for dear life.

As far as hugs went, it was the best damn one I’ve had in, well I don’t know how long.

A yawn escaped from within me and I heard Ethan’s chest rumble with what sounded like a small chuckle. “Someone’s tired.”

I nodded. “I am.”

His grip on me relaxed slightly and my body pleaded against it. I wasn’t ready for this hug to be over. He slowly stepped away, his eyes saying the same thing my body was.

His tone was husky when spoke. “Goodnight, Ollie.”

There it was again, Ollie. He called me Ollie at the crime scene as well, I mean, Gavin called me that too from time to time. But there was something different about it coming from Ethan.

“Goodnight, Ethan.”

And with that I turned around and headed up the stairs, my body already missing the feeling of that hug.