Golden sunlight broke through the trees and pierced the window of Officer Williams’s cabin. It reflected from the part empty whiskey bottle resting on his lap. The thick glass reflected the radiance into the face of an exhausted and sweat covered man. Upon his return home he had been denied sleep as the weight of his actions set their chains. Only drink had brought a restless peace.
Opening his eyes to a daze he attempted to grasp his surroundings. A flash of the stranger's face appeared before him as the pain panged in his mind. Whilst it had provided some rest the whiskey's consequences were now made apparent. Regaining focus he sat perched on the edge of his sofa, mouth and throat dry as a bone.
“Shocking news out of a small town south Carolina county sheriff's department this morning as a suspect in a murder and attempted murder of an infant was found dead in his cell from a suspected drug overdose. The sheriff's department has declined to make a comment at this time. More on this story as it develops.”
The dusty old TV set had flickered to life at its own command. What it said was true. Mr Carmichael lay dead in the station's morgue having stabbed himself to death with the needles. His punctured body drained of all life taking to the grave the secrets Officer Williams now held.
On the television stood Chief Hardin red in the face and surrounded by a sea of reporters all thrusting microphones in his face. They all called and demanded answers from the clearly out of his depth chief. Nothing like this had ever graced the small town. The small force could do little to control the sea of big city reporters crowding the street.
“Ronald ‘ron’ Carmichael was a very sick man. Leading up unto his death by his own hand he was raving of otherworldly voices that were plaguing him and his wife. He murdered his wife Milly Carmichael and attempted to murder his unborn son who is now in a critical condition at a nearby hospital. I'd like to thank our men and women of our healthcare service for their hard work.”
The Chiefs words hung hollow. He had rehearsed this many times this morning. He wiped sweat from his brow as the hungry crowd demanded more answers. “How did Mr Carmichael die in police custody? Isn't it your duty to protect?” the venom from the reporter's mouth sunk deep into the blood. The ageing Chief shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
“At this time we can confirm that Officer Charles Anthony who was on duty last night was himself found dead in the station's locker room having taken his own life with his duty issued firearm. At this time it is believed that the officer disabled the security system and destroyed all camera recordings. He then proceeded to provide Mr Carmichael with the means to end his own life and later proceeded to take his own.”
Officer Williams' blood ran cold. Just hours ago he had conspired with his fellow officer and now those secrets had been taken to the grave. A strange amalgamation of feelings rushed across him. A side of him was rendered asunder by the death of his colleague. The other was a euphoric sensation of sheer relief. He had gotten away with it. Just like the stranger had planned.
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The shower stung like daggers of ice against his skin. The shock would wash away the last of the sweat and haze from his body. In a new found wave of clarity he was interrupted by a deep sickness. Stumbling from his steel tub he emptied the dregs in his stomach into the bright white porcelain. Again another pang of pain. Again another image of the strangers smiling face. There was still one more thing he had to do.
Climbing behind the wheel of his rusted and dented old jeep wrangler he shifted into his seat still adjusting to the sun's light. Turning over the powerful V8 engine the instruments flickered to life. The clock read 1:35 pm whiskey had stolen more hours than first thought. He began the long drive down the uneven dirt path into town. Every bump sending waves of pain cascading through his skull.
The handprint didn’t burn anymore as he pulled up into the parking lot of the small hospital a town over. People speed walked from place to place chattering amongst each other from important medical information to inane chatter about the topic of the day. The reception area was flooded with patients shuffling impatiently awaiting their ticket to be called.
Officer Williams didn’t have time to shuffle alongside them. He leaned against the desk showing his police badge to the heavyset woman positioned behind a computer. Solitaire played on her monitor as she feigned looking at the hospital's systems. “I'm Officer williams of the south Carolina PD I need to know where to find the Carmichael boy that was bought in yesterday”
The despondent woman looked up as she minimised her game. “You and every other cop I've seen this morning. You know you guys can't question an infant right? They take the right to remain silent very seriously.” she chuckled to herself at her own comment “down the hall and to the left room 1-G sweetie. Chief Hardin is already there”
The thick sealed door opened and revealed a white room with a glass screen looking ito a smaller room. Positioned in the centre of the room behind the glass was a small see through box. Pipes and wires ran to and from it in an obelisk to modern medicine. Lying on a thin blanket connected to a host of machines was the small premature boy he had held in his palms before.
“He's a strong kid. Doctors tell me he will pull through. Doesn't seem to have any problems from his parents' drug addictions. They reckon he’s about a month early.” The Chief stood holding his hat staring at Officer William's reflection in the glass. “I get why you are here. I would be. I came right after I got ambushed by those vultures from the press. Wanted somewhere quiet. They were at my house Williams.”
The Chief’s usual devil may care attitude was stunted. The loss of a key suspect and one of his longest serving officers had broken him. “I had to know the boy was safe. I saw the news. I had to be here” the chief turned to face him and put back on his hat “Did charlie ever talk to you about suicidal thoughts? He doesn't show so much as a sign for his whole career and then he redecorates the roof with a shotgun as his paintbrush? I don't like it Kev”
“I'm gonna take in the boy” Officer Williams interjected, derailing the chief's questioning. Looking in bewilderment the chief retorted “you? Son you don't strike me as the fathering type. To be honest I'm edging towards thinking you would be too close to this. Given your familiarity with his parents.”
“They were just another pair of criminals to me. The kid deserves better though. Can't help but feel responsible for him.” the chief sighed as Officer Williams stepped towards the glass. “Truth is I'm getting old Chief. I'm never gonna have a wife, we know that. This kid is my chance to leave a legacy”
A kind hand touched the Officer's shoulder “you could still find a partner. You and him could adopt. Does it have to be this kid? Harsh as it sounds in his condition he might not live long.”
The Officer knew different. Whatever the stranger wanted this kid for he wouldn't let him just die. The Officer was resolute in his decision. He would raise the boy alone. The stranger would never have him.