After the Evil – A Jake Roberts Novel (Book 1) (3 page)

“I can’t erase what happened to you Jake. It will
always be in your memory. All I can do is to try and help you find
some closure and that’s going to take time.”

I know what I have to, but I don’t want to talk to
him anymore. As I make my way toward the office door, I turn to
face the eminent psychiatrist. The words I thought would come out
don’t, so I close the door behind me.

“Jake?”

The receptionist behind the glass window in the
waiting room makes a gallant effort to corner me for another
appointment. Faces look up from their magazines, as I hurry my
escape. I feel exposed. I can’t reach for the doorknob fast enough,
but instead the door opens in my face.

An extraordinarily attractive woman enters. She
holds everyone’s attention. We stare at her as if she were a model
strutting down the runway at a fashion show. She seems unaffected
by the gawking. We make eye contact and she smiles, but in my
jammed up state of mind I can’t smile back. Along my journey down
the long, empty corridor I think about her. Walking out of the
building into the stabbing sunlight that temporarily blinds me, I
think about her. As the freezer chill of the air-conditioned
offices dissipates rapidly in the heat, I think about her. When I
open the door to my apartment I realize she is the only other thing
I have thought about, in my bruised and crippled psyche, since
killing that girl.

* * *

There was no resemblance to the other hard-core
patients in the office. After checking in with the receptionist,
she found an empty seat, and sat straight up with her purse neatly
placed on her lap. Her breathtaking eyes stared straight ahead, and
didn’t acknowledge anyone in the waiting room. She didn’t read any
of the old and torn magazines. Instead Lori replayed in her mind,
the entire visit she made to the cemetery before her appointment to
see Dr. Abrams. Whenever she returned from a flight, she made sure
she went to see her daughter Emily. In her daydream, she saw
herself walking past the many headstones along the manicured lawn.
She arrived at the one that rested above her daughter’s grave. Her
fingers lightly stroked the name on the marble then cleared the
grave of fallen leaves and debris. She replaced the bouquet in the
holder with freshly cut wildflowers.

“Hi baby, mommy’s here.”

I missed you mommy.

“I missed you too, honey.”

Lori’s head tilted to one side and was followed by a
sigh. Soft tears trickled down her cheeks as the anguish of Emily’s
passing returned. After years, it still hurt. As all parents do
when preceded in death by their children, she mourned the loss with
heartbreak, sadness, and overwhelming guilt.

Where did you go mommy?

Wiping away tears, Lori tried to sound upbeat.

“I had a flight to Gulfport baby, just an overnight.
We got back early this morning. I unpacked and came right over to
see you.”

Did you have fun mommy?

“It was okay, it wasn’t fun, just okay.”

Lori changed the subject.

“Did you remember yesterday was my birthday?”

Oh yes mommy, Happy Birthday to you!

The child’s voice sang the birthday song. Lori’s
dire expression turned to a half-hearted smile, as she touched her
daughter’s headstone. It had changed from a piece of granite, to
her young daughter’s face.

I wish I could have celebrated it with you,

“I know baby, I know. You look so beautiful Emily,
so beautiful.”

I love you mommy.

“I love you too, baby.”

Mourners at a nearby gravesite looked in her
direction, but she quickly turned away from their curious stares.
Without looking up again, she spread a small blanket on the lawn
next to the grave. The recently mowed grass had a sweet scent. She
sat down and brought her legs up beneath her chin. She wrapped her
arms around them to hold them in. With her chin resting on her
knees, she stared at a small beetle making its way through the
grass then she heard the other voice.

Don’t be fooled into believing that luck got you
this far and will take you the rest of the way. Many have stood
before a magistrate because of such flawed thought.

“I know, I know,” Lori said.

Don’t take that attitude with me.

The voice was demeaning and punishing. She hated the
voice, and would have done anything to make it stop. She whispered
like a scolded child.

You listen to me. No one cares about you, but
me.

“I won’t disappoint you.”

Lori was apologetic having heard the lectures
before.

You have to follow the rules.

“Yes I know, no records. Don’t leave anything
behind. Don’t attract attention. Know the geography. And alcohol is
a truth serum––I got it.”

Well if it’s all so clear then what did you think
you were doing in Gulfport.

“He was an authority figure just like the
rest––”

Lori wanted to argue, but she knew it was
useless.

Murder is as empowering as it is compelling.

After that, Lori didn’t hear the voices. The other
mourners had all gone, and she was sitting alone in the cemetery
shading her eyes from the bright, unrelenting sun. Before she left,
she took one more look at her daughter’s name on the headstone.
Then another voice, an unfamiliar voice, interrupted her
daydream.

“Ms. Powers, the doctor will see you now.”

* * *

Terrorism had hit home, and was on everyone’s mind.
Outside the terminal, airport traffic officers ordered the towing
of unattended cars no longer permitted to park curbside. As Captain
Parker walked briskly out of the terminal, and into the noonday
sun, the last thing on his mind was terrorism. Nick was much more
concerned about unintentionally revealing any evidence the sweet,
young Tricia had left behind. She had kissed him goodbye only
minutes before with a heavy smear of lipstick then headed out the
opposite side of the terminal. He wasn’t sure he had gotten it all
off. He rapidly surveyed the roadway to his left and right
searching for the new Mrs. Parker, but she wasn’t in sight.

Trisha had a wonderful two days in Los Angeles. Nick
bought her expensive gifts, and took her to dinner at an exclusive
restaurant. She screwed his brains out in return, which made them
even she figured. The next time he called though, she planned to
tell him to drop dead, unless there was nothing else to do in
town.

Seeing his new bride, Nick waved as if she was the
only woman on earth. She pulled up in the macho SUV and stopped at
his feet. He liked it when women deferred to him. He expected them
to treat him like God. After all, pilots thought they were. Mrs.
Parker leapt out of the car, and rushed toward him, throwing her
entire perfect body into him causing the air to burst out of his
lungs.

“Oh baby, I’ve missed you so much,” Susan said.

“It feels like a millennium since I’ve been able to
hold you,” Nick said.

He knew what to say, to get what he wanted.

“I’ve got to have you right now, Susan.”

It fascinated Nick how easily women fell for his
smooth talk and lies. They were willing to do just about anything
to have someone to call their own. They would clean, cook, iron and
even squeeze out babies, for love. What was even more amazing, he
thought, was they couldn’t see it, didn’t get it. To him, love was
a fabricated concept created simply for a man to justify the
fulfillment of a biological need to release millions of
microscopic, aggressive sperm. A woman was nothing more than a
late-night depository.

“Where’s Wendy?”

Parker asked knowing that Susan’s young daughter was
an object of his degenerate affection. Susan made up a story
because she knew Wendy detested him, but she could never figure out
why. He would constantly spoil Wendy with lavish gifts that often
made Susan jealous. She found his constant concern about Wendy’s
well being reassuring, and believed that Nick was the perfect
father figure for her.

“Home, she had homework to finish. You know how kids
are.”

Nick’s face exhibited contrived concern

“Is everything all right with her?”

“Yeah, she’s fine, just a young girl trying to
figure out the big world. It’s not easy you know.”

Seeing Parker in uniform, a traffic officer
approached and reprimanded him.

“Captain you need to move it along, sir. The rules
apply to everyone.”

“Sorry officer, you’re absolutely right, and we’re
moving it.”

Nick’s apologetic tone saved him. He detested it
when those he considered his inferiors, the lower rung, told him
what to do. He didn’t take direction. He gave it. Nick opened the
passenger door for Susan, and she slid her long legs inside so he
got a good look. He grinned, and closed her door. Tossing his
flight and overnight bags in the back, he gave a small wave to the
impertinent officer. He thought about berating the man, but decided
he was too exhausted after the weekend with Tricia.

I owe you one officer.

The Navigator cranked over, and Captain Nick Parker
drove home with the woman he presumably loved, to the stepdaughter
he wanted to make love to, later.

* * *

The magnificent mansion he shared with Mrs. Abrams
made up for having to tolerate her incessant whining. An expansive
estate, it was too much for two people. A brand new Bentley was
parked in the curved driveway. The thought of having children was
not even a consideration, because of the great imposition it would
place on their own spoiled lives. Thaddeus Abrams loved his career,
and all of the benefits that came with it. He especially loved when
clients, such as the troubled, but stunning, Lori Powers stared
helplessly into his eyes seeking compassion, comfort, and
understanding. Life was good for the good doctor, and nothing was
going to interfere with his happiness.

“So how are you, Lori?”

Abrams had a knack for sounding concerned, which was
why he was so successful in his line of work. He was a master at
giving the impression he cared about your miserable life. With
Lori, he found his career to be particularly rewarding.

“It hasn’t been a very good week,” Lori said.

“Let me see, according to my notes, we were
discussing your family history during your last visit. Why don’t
you pick it up from there?”

He looked over the tops of his reading glasses at
her. She closed her eyes and thought. The moment she felt prepared,
and comfortable, organized, she began. Abrams gave a slight
nod.

“I remember the very first time he slithered into my
bed. He wanted me. I was too young, too trusting to protest, to say
no.”

Her mood turned sullen. Abrams missed most
everything she said after that. He just wanted to get her talking,
so he could look into her captivating eyes, and listen to her smoky
voice. Whenever she turned away, he would sneak a peek at her
breasts and legs. Her first statement sent him drifting off into
another fantasy daydream about her.

She stood in the garden below in the black
French-cut bikini that was his favorite.

“Daddy was like a...”

He drifted into Fantasyland.

She lit candles inside the darkened room, and
extinguished the match with a soft, sensual whisper. Romantic
melodies filled the background as she nudged him onto his back on
the bed. With a naughty, teasing expression, she took her hair up,
and let it fall wildly over her soft shoulders. Her bikini fell to
the floor.

“Mother didn’t have the courage to say no to him.
When I turned to her, she turned away from me.”

He caught just a piece of that statement.

She straddled him provocatively and playfully,
traced his naked body with her fingertips. Kissing his face and
neck, she reached down between his legs.

“Dr. Abrams?” Lori said.

She had the impression Abrams missed the last few
pages of her life story. He jerked back into reality, and recovered
smoothly by asking a question.

“Who was
he
?”

“Who was who?”

“Go back to the part about ‘I was too trusting.’
Were you referring to your father?”

“I was referring to my ex-husband, doctor.”

Abrams took a moment to think, while he wrote notes
on his legal pad. She appeared to be confused about episodes
between her father, and her ex-husband. The husband was missing,
wasn’t he? Perhaps the trauma of her daughter’s suicide was
affecting her memory. He couldn’t quite put a finger in it.

“I’m sorry Lori, please continue.”

Although relieved he had escaped detection, Abrams
knew that he had missed something important. He had to listen
closer, and find the underlying cause of it. As she pulled a tissue
from the box on the table next to her chair, the doctor leaned
forward in his chair. Certain he was listening this time. Lori
continued with the rest of her story.

“I remember a night. It was raining very hard,
thunder, and lightning. We were parked on a hilltop surrounded by
dense woods. The leaves on the trees partially obscured the moon
and stars. I had an overbearing feeling something evil was present.
Lying back on the upholstery, sweating, frightened, with my legs
spread, he entered me. I wanted to scream, but he wouldn’t let me.
Finally, he finished.”

She dabbed the tissue in the corner of each eye then
she squeezed the tissue tight in her clenched fist.

“Then his hand raised, and came down as if it were a
knife.”

Lori shook. Abrams flinched, and was surprised by
his own reaction.

“Too young to comprehend the purpose of being
struck, my baby cried as she sucked in her first seconds of life.
She was so beautiful, my Emily. I was just fourteen.”

Abrams still couldn’t put it all together, and it
bothered him. Before he could ask another question, Lori spoke.

“I have a recurring dream. I’m alone, no one else is
left in the world, except me.”