John Locke - Lethal Experiment

I glanced at Janet and said, “What about your mother?”

“She’ll be fine.”

I was concerned that if I moved away, Janet might confront Kathleen and make a scene. Then again, my reason for being there was Kimberly, and if she wanted me at her side when meeting the Becks, that’s where I needed to be. I whispered to Kathleen to wait for us down the hill. Kimberly gave her a quick hug and glanced at her mother. Kathleen followed her glance, felt the tension, and excused herself. Kimberly and I watched her navigate the terrain down to the driveway. Then we made our way over to the parents.

“Mr. and Mrs. Beck?” Kimberly said. Her voice sounded small in the swirling wind.

“Yes?” said Jennifer Beck.

“I’m Kimberly.”

“Hello, Kimberly,” Jerry Beck said, extending his hand. “Were you a former classmate of Charlie’s?”

“Oh Jerry, she’s too young for that!” Jennifer Beck scolded. Then she said, “Nice to meet you, Kimberly. How did your know our son?”

“I’m Kimberly Creed,” said Kimberly. “I should have said.”

The Becks looked at each other, clearly confused.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Kimberly,” Jerry finally said. “I’m sure Charlie would be very gratified to know you that you came to pay your respects.”

Jerry Beck turned to look at me. “And you are?”

“Donovan Creed,” I said. “Kimberly’s father. Kimberly and Charlie were dating.”

They looked at Kimberly, and my daughter nodded.

“I loved your son,” Kimberly said. “Very much.”

Jennifer’s eyes softened a bit. “How old are you dear?”

“Sixteen.”

No one spoke for a few seconds.

“This is very awkward,” Jennifer said. “Charlie was very popular with…well, I’m sure he intended to introduce you to us someday. I’m just sorry it never happened before this.”

“He—he never mentioned my name?”

“I’m sorry,” Jerry Beck said. “It wouldn’t be fair to pretend he did.”

Kimberly’s face fell as she realized that the love of her life hadn’t considered their relationship significant enough to mention to his parents.

“Sorry for your loss,” Kimberly said.

She took my arm. As we walked down the hill and stepped onto the circular driveway below, Kimberly cussed a blue streak, expressing herself less like a teenage girl who’d lost her first love, and more like a woman scorned.

The shift in Kimberly’s attitude warmed my heart. Once again, everything was turning out for the best. Charlie and the other rapists had paid for their crimes with their lives. Kimberly learned she was nothing more than Charlie’s current flavor of the month. And Kimberly learned a valuable lesson about men.

My work in Darnell was done. Now if only I could sneak Kathleen out of there without having to deal with Janet…

“Donovan?”

It was Janet.

Chapter 24

“ How many Kathleen Chapmans are there in the world, do you suppose?” Janet said.

“Hypothetically?” I said.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kathleen heading toward us. She’d be here in seconds.

“ Mom !” Kimberly said with a severe whisper, “this is not the time or place.”

Janet glared at me, her face twisted with fury. “We will talk about this again. Count on it !”

Kathleen arrived and put her hand out. “You must be Janet,” she said.

“Oh, fuck you!” Janet said, and stormed off .

“What a delightful creature,” Kathleen said. “How could you possibly have let her get away?”

Kimberly mouthed the word “ Sorry !” to Kathleen, then “Thank you!” to me. She turned and sprinted after Janet. I didn’t envy her ride home.

A flash of lightning electrified the blackened sky, followed immediately by a loud bang of thunder. The remaining mourners moved quickly toward their cars, leaving Kathleen and me standing alone on the circular driveway. We watched Janet wagging her finger in Kimberly’s face as they headed to their car. You could tell Janet was shouting, but it was quiet shouting, like an angry woman ripping on her husband in a crowded restaurant. Behind us the backhoe and grave diggers had finished up. Kathleen and I remained where we stood.

“We simply must have Janet over for dinner sometime,” I said. “Give you girls a chance to chat.”

“That would be lovely,” Kathleen said. “I’ll bring my Urban Dictionary so I’ll be sure to understand the references.”

The sky seemed to age six hours in the blink of an eye. We watched the cars lined up, lights on, fighting to get out of the cemetery. All around us, lightning flashed like giant strobe lights. The thunder clapped and rumbled loudly. A few fat raindrops hit us, and a sudden gust of wind caused Kathleen to shiver.

“Here it comes!” I said.

She took my hand just as the driving rain began pelting us.

“Kiss me!” she yelled.

“What? Here? You think it’s appropriate?”

We could barely hear each other over the din. The rain had become torrential.

“Who’s going to know?” she shouted.

I looked at her rain-plastered hair and drenched dress.

“You’re fun,” I yelled. I kissed her.

“I told you I was!” she shouted, and kissed me back.

We hugged each other in the pouring rain, two soaked, broken people clinging to their soul mates. We ended the hug and I held her at arm’s length and looked her over.

“Well, check it out!” I said.

“What?”

“You look like you just won a wet T-shirt contest!”

She followed my gaze downward. “Wow! I should stand in the rain more often!”

Some people love a beautiful sunset. Others prefer an ocean view. I guess everyone gets a thrill from viewing something they consider spectacular. I know I do.

She lifted my chin with her index finger until my eyes were back on hers.

“Spoilsport,” I said.

We kissed again.

“I love you,” she said.

She suddenly pushed back out of the kiss, her eyes wide. “Oh, Donovan, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean that!”

“You didn’t?”

“I did, I mean I do—but…I didn’t mean to say it!”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to scare you off .”

“But you do love me, yes?”

She tucked a thick rope of wet hair behind her ear.

“I do.”

I placed the palm of my hand against the side of her face. She looked into my eyes expectantly. A roar of thunder made her jump.

“Holy shit, Donovan! Hurry up and tell me you love me! Before we get killed!”

I laughed. “I love you!”

She threw her arms around me and hugged me as though her life depended on it.

She leaned her mouth into my ear and when she spoke, her voice was husky: “I’ve never been this happy in my whole life.”

I felt the same way, but I wasn’t ready to start wearing a dress over it. I said, “This isn’t pre-marital talk, is it?”

“Don’t spoil the mood, shithead!”

“I’m just saying…”

“Hush!”

She kissed me full on the mouth while I wondered if “hush!” meant yes or no regarding her marital expectations. Thankfully, Kathleen cleared things up.

“Relax,” she said. “I love you far too much to marry you.”

I let that comment rattle around in my brain a few seconds and decided I liked the sound of it.

“Then, yes. I’m happier than I have any right to be. Happier than I ever thought I could be. Happy as…”

“No need for a speech,” Kathleen said. “I get it.”

I brushed some of the rain from her forehead, then held her again. As we embraced, I looked over her shoulder, up the hill, at the Memorial and the chestnut oak and the newly-packed mound where, once again, Charlie’s parents stood praying.

Jerry and Jennifer Beck’s son had been a rotten, no good, son-of-a bitch who drugged and gang-raped women. He probably helped kill one of them, if the rumor was to be trusted. On the other hand, Charlie had been blessed with good looks and an abundance of charm and the ability to make my precious daughter fall in love with him. At the funeral numerous stories had been told of the generous and loving things he’d done for others, so he must have had some good qualities to go with the bad.

Standing there in the rain, watching the Becks, holding the woman I’d fallen in love with, I realized I’d never met a perfect person, and only a few that were one hundred percent evil. All of us fall to one side or the other of the line dividing the two extremes, and who could argue but that I fall farther on the wrong side than Charlie? After all, I don’t expect an abundance of warmhearted stories told at my funeral, and if you tried to match my crimes against Charlie’s, he’d come out looking like an altar boy. And yet here we both were, in Springhill Cemetery, on opposite sides of the dirt. Charlie’s mistake had been getting too close to my daughter. If that hadn’t happened, he’d be alive today.

I’d just professed my love to Kathleen. Somehow she’d been placed in my life at the perfect time to give me a chance to become a better man. I wondered if Kimberly had been placed in Charlie’s life by the same hand for the same reason. If so, had I interfered with some type of cosmic plan?

There on the hill, Jerry and Jennifer Beck stood ramrod straight, their bodies riddled with rain. Hand-in-hand, with heads bowed, they stared at the mound of dirt that marked the grave of the boy they’d raised and loved and lost.

Chapter 25

“ What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done?” Kathleen said.

“Excuse me?”

It was night, New York City, dry clothes, The Spotted Pig gastro-pub, 11th Street. The menu features casual pub fare with an Italian accent. We’d been enjoying the slow-roasted king salmon.

“The scariest thing you’ve ever done,” she repeated.

A newsreel of horror began playing in my head.

“I don’t know what brought this up,” I said, “but the short answer is, trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“Oh, stop being such a tough guy. How bad could it be? I mean, I know you get information from gangsters and you work for Homeland Security. But you’re basically an interviewer, right?”

For obvious reasons, I’d given Kathleen a highly sanitized explanation of my role with Homeland—more of a Clark Kent version of my job description. While I do conduct interviews for the government and other shady people, they’re either long, drawn out affairs involving pain and torture, or short, one-question events that end with bullets or lethal injections.

What’s the scariest thing I’ve ever done , I thought to myself. I wondered if Kathleen had forgotten about the time I killed three men during one of our lunch dates a few months ago.

“You go first,” I said.

“Okay.” Kathleen works for an ad agency. By her smile I knew this was going to be good.

“On Monday I’m getting full custody of Addie.”

“What? That’s terrific!”

We touched glasses together to mark the occasion.

“That’s not so scary, though,” I said. “You’re going to be a great mom.”

“That’s not the scary part,” she said.

I waited.

“I gave my notice yesterday.”

“Excuse me? You’re quitting your job?”

She nodded.

“But why?”

“I’m going to buy a proper house for Addie. Nothing fancy,” she added. “I mean, I’m not going to squander all the money you so generously gave me. But I want Addie to have her own bedroom and bath.”