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Carrie had another hangover. The sun coming in from her bedroom window felt like stabbing daggers through her head. She groaned and rolled over.
She’d gone back to the Darkside again. Something kept drawing her there. But each time she found herself less and less able to gather her wits about her to pull herself together the next day for work.
I need a vacation, she thought. I need a full week of nothing I have to do and nowhere I have to be.
Her mouth was dry, and she wished she had the energy to get up and brush her teeth. But she didn’t and soon drifted back off to sleep.
Ninety minutes later, an annoying buzzing sound penetrated her hazy sleep. At first, it was faint and only a slight intrusion into her dream. It increased to the point she couldn’t avoid it and she found herself fully awake.
She reached for her cell phone and looked at the screen. It was Randy. Oh, my goodness! What time was it? Nine in the morning. Oh crap! She scrambled out of bed and threw on some wrinkled clothes she found on the floor. Snapped on her badge and gun, which she had failed to lock away in the safe, and headed out the door.
As soon as she started her car and was pulling out of her driveway, she called Randy.
“Where in the hell are you?” he asked.
“I’m on my way. I overslept. I don’t feel too well this morning.” She immediately wished she hadn’t said that. He was always on her about her drinking. She knew saying ‘not feeling well’ would be translated as ‘hangover’ by Randy. She had brushed her teeth, gargled with mouthwash, and was now cramming gum in her mouth. Would it be enough?
“I’ll be there in twenty,” she was able to add before Randy could start his lecture on the evils of the lifestyle that she was living. In her opinion, though, he didn’t have much room to talk. After all, if Sandy wanted a divorce, how good of a husband could he be?
Soon, she was pulling into her parking spot and locking her car door. Her reflection peering back at her from her car door window looked a little rough. She did a quick finger comb of her unruly curls and thought, good enough.
Randy was waiting on her just inside the door. “You stink,” he said. “You didn’t shower did you?”
“Are you going to start with me again?” She hadn’t showered since she was so late but the stink she knew Randy was referring to wasn’t body odor, but ketoacidosis from having drank so much in such a short period of time. She had smelled it on her uncle many times, it was unmistakable. If Randy smelled that, then she’d crossed a line last night that she tried very hard never to cross.
“I’m sorry. I’ll go to the locker room and shower,” she said. She kept a change of clothes and toiletries in her locker. With this job you never knew how long you would be out.
In less than thirty minutes, Carrie was showered and dressed. She felt better and wished she had taken the time to have done that at home. She avoided eye contract with Randy as she came to get him to leave.
“I’m ready. Where are we going?”
“The coroner has matched four of the five bodies with dental records of the missing persons. In other words, we know for sure four of the five unknown victims. We need to go visit the next of kin,” said Randy.
Carrie felt ashamed that she had almost showed up in the shape she had been in to victims' homes. How disrespectful. She had to get herself together.
Randy and Carrie rode in silence to the first victim’s home. Randy stopped a block away in a convenience store parking lot and put the car in park. “Since we didn’t have a chance to go over details of the victims this morning, I'll brief you on this one.
“Ken Burns, male, five feet nine inches tall. Dark hair, green eyes, worked as a bank teller. Lived at home with his mother. She is the next of kin that we need to notify.”
A lump rose in Carrie’s throat. She did not feel up to this today. “We’d better go,” she said.
No one answered the knock on the door. In reading the file they read a note that Ken’s mother worked as a teacher. She wouldn’t be home until after three. Randy put that file on the bottom of the stack and they looked to find one that might be available during the day.
When they reviewed David Brasher’s file, they saw he was married with two small children. Wife Cindy and he were in the final stages of a divorce.
“Oh boy,” sighed Randy. “I hate doing these.”
As expected, Cindy did not take the news well. Even though she and David were getting a divorce, she still loved him, and he was the father of her children.
Randy and Carrie gave Cindy time to take a breath and let the news soak in. “Mrs. Brasher, we have to ask you some questions in order to find out who did this to David. Are you up for that right now?” asked Randy.
Cindy nodded her head in agreement. She sat dabbing her tears with a twisted up tissue. She was quite attractive but her yoga pants were not as flattering as something else might have been.
“Is it fair to assume that since you and David were getting a divorce that you were no longer living together?”
“That’s correct. He had an apartment. The address was 2417 NW Blanchard St., Apt. B9.”
Randy jotted the address down in his notebook. For the next hour, they asked as many questions as they felt Cindy could stand. Truthfully at this point, knowing so little, there were few questions to ask. It felt as though they were starting all over again with the discovery of the new bodies.
By three thirty, they were back at Ken Burns’ mother’s house. It was almost more than Carrie could take, seeing his mother collapse from distress. This was too many notifications to have to do in one day. Her heart was breaking for this poor woman.
They helped her to a soft chair and brought her a glass of water. They inquired about someone to call and made that call to her daughter, Ken’s sister.
By the time the daughter arrived, they had completed their series of questions and left the two ladies to grieve alone.
“How are things with you and Sandy?” asked Carrie on the ride back to the office.
“She has filed for divorce, but I’m trying to get her to consider counseling,” said Randy.
“Isn’t that like shutting the barn door after the horse gets out?” asked Carrie. She knew it sounded insensitive, but couldn’t work up the wherewithal to care.
Randy knew exactly what she meant. It was like that, and he was furious at himself that he had neglected the signs, neglected his family, and neglected Sandy. “Yep, it is.”
~~~
“Senna, here is the name I was able to get for you, if you are still willing to go see her,” said Andrea not long after Senna arrived for work that morning. She handed Senna a piece of notepaper where she had written the information she had received in the email.
“Thank you,” Senna said, somewhat uncomfortably. She knew she had agreed and Blake had confirmed that counseling was the best thing for her, but now that she was faced with taking that step, she wasn’t sure she could.
Senna stood and looked at the note that Andrea had handed her. The card read: Dr. Marion Specter, MD, 18759 North Radial Avenue, Oklahoma City, OK. And the phone number 405-555-3344
“She’s a medical doctor?” Senna asked Andrea.
“She’s a psychiatrist. A medical doctor with a specialty in psychiatric medicine.”
“I thought you were going to get a name for a counselor, not a shrink.” Senna was caught off guard when she felt anger rush through her.
Andrea saw Senna’s face get red and her body tense. “It doesn’t mean anything. She’s just really good. Please don’t read more into it than is there,” Andrea pleaded with her friend.
When Senna saw the worried look on Andrea’s face, she tried to stuff her anger back down. Her friend was only trying to help, but still... a psychiatrist.
“I guess I am crazy,” said Senna.
“Please don’t say that! A psychiatrist is not just for what people consider crazy. They are there to counsel and help. Please Senna, I don’t think you are crazy!” exclaimed Andrea. She cared about her friend deeply and she was concerned that she had crossed the line with her. Andrea knew when she read the email, and saw that the recommendation was a psychiatrist, that Senna might be offended.
Senna remembered the night before with Blake. She could tell he cared for her and he agreed that it would be good for her to talk to someone. If there really was a chance for her and Blake to make it, she had to keep moving forward. Finding someone on her own was not an option. She had no idea who to call or where to start.
“You’re right. I overreacted. I’ll call her,” Senna said and smiled at her friend. “I’ll call right now.” Hesitation showed in her slight smile and her quiet voice.
Senna did call and stammered through the preliminary questions the receptionist asked when making the appointment. She wasn’t sure when she had felt more vulnerable and uncomfortable.
“Actually we’ve had a cancellation. If you can come this afternoon at three, Dr. Specter can see you then.”
Senna’s mind raced. She was not expecting such a quick appointment. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she agreed.
“Okay,” she told Andrea, “I have an appointment at three this afternoon if you will be okay to work here alone until the volunteers get here.
“That’s awesome,” Andrea said as she reached out and gave Senna a side hug. “It really is. You can always talk to me, but what your father did was abusive. I don’t have the right words to say to help you heal. I am sure Dr. Specter does.”
The remainder of the day at the library was pretty ordinary. They’d planned a book drive at the local school that would be coming up next week, so both Senna and Andrea worked to make sure everything was done for that.
They had put out flyers and sent out email invitations to their email list. The school had called and asked for more cards to send out in the students’ weekly folders, so Andrea took the cards to the school.
Finally, a little before two o’clock, it seemed as though the rush had stopped and Andrea and Senna could sit for a bit before Senna had to leave for her appointment.
Senna had been thinking about something Blake had said the night before and kept trying to put it aside, but she finally thought she would bring it up to Andrea to see what she thought.
“Blake asked me to go to church with him this Sunday.”
“Oh, cool! You know we go to the same church, right?” Andrea was immediately excited. She’d never asked Senna to come with her to church because she knew she’d had a bad experience with church and wasn’t sure what she would say.
“I told him I wouldn’t go,” said Senna.
Andrea deflated. “Oh.” Andrea started to ask why, but she knew.
“The thing is, I can’t get it out of my mind. I think I should go because he asked me to. I don’t want to disappoint him.”
“Why don’t you just try it one time? Tell Blake that you will try it for him and just see how it goes. I can promise you it will not be like what you experienced as a child.”
Senna looked at her friend with skepticism. She felt bombarded with new things. New everything. She needed her life to slow down. “I’ll think about it.”
“Oh,” Andrea squealed, hugging her friend. “I am so excited. I have wanted to ask you for the longest time.” Senna thought Andrea was literally bobbing up and down.
Not in Senna’s wildest dreams could she ever imagine why anyone could be that happy about going to a religious meeting to get yelled at for all the wrong things you were doing or might do. But she was growing to trust her friends, so she thought she might try it.
Senna hurried to leave. She was not familiar with where the doctor’s office was located, so she wanted enough time to find it. Andrea had helped her look on the computer on a map, but Senna didn’t have a smart phone or any type of GPS. She wrote the directions down on the note paper Andrea had given her with the name and address.
On the way to the appointment, Senna’s mind was flying out in a thousand different directions. The anxiety she felt was palpable. Several times, the thought crossed her mind to just cancel and go back home, but she kept seeing Blake’s face. That handsome, compassionate face with love in his eyes kept urging her forward.
The office was empty when Senna arrived and a receptionist helped her with paperwork to fill out and asked her to be seated to wait. Very soon, she was shown into the room where she would meet Dr. Specter.
It was a nice, comfortable room, Senna observed. It felt more like a little living room than a doctor’s office. She was sitting on a nice blue sofa that was soft to the touch.
Dr. Specter entered the room from a door on the other side of the room. Senna stood to greet her and was met with a kind face. The doctor was about forty-five and attractive. She was dressed casually in a blue skirt and white blouse.
The interview began subtly as if it were just two friends chatting. Senna knew this was to help her to relax and become more comfortable with the doctor, and it helped, to a degree.
Dr. Specter explained that the sessions were a process and for Senna not to feel she had to dump everything out at once. They would take their time and explore things one at a time, hopefully gaining healing step by step.
For this session, Dr. Specter had Senna just talk about why she had made the choice to come to her at this time in her life.
Senna couldn’t tell if the room had grown hot or if it was her anxiety causing her to feel as though her skin had caught fire. There seemed to be an impenetrable barrier between her tongue and those first words.
Finally Senna began to explain how she and Andrea had become friends, and the changes that Andrea had helped her make. Then she stopped to gather her thoughts wondering what to say next.
Dr. Specter calmly and patiently sat and waited for Senna. It was not uncommon for patients to work their way through what they wanted to say in their minds before they could actually say it.
Senna looked at the rug under feet. It was shades of blue that matched the sofa. There were swirls of other colors and Senna’s eyes followed their path. The chaotic pattern created a thing of beauty. She felt the chaos on the rug resembled the chaos in her mind. She wondered if her chaotic life could ever become a thing of beauty as well.
Finally, Senna told Dr. Specter about her childhood just the way she had told Andrea. It seemed a bit easier this time. The more she talked, the more comfortable she felt with Dr. Specter and, all too soon, their time was up.
Dr. Specter brought the session to a close giving Senna encouraging words that she was on the right track and that they would continue until she was able to reconcile her past with her present. She encouraged Senna to set weekly appointments, to which Senna agreed.
“You know, I was offended when Andrea gave me your information and I saw that you were a psychiatrist. I had agreed to talk to a counselor and was stunned when she gave me the name of a psychiatrist.” She stopped for a moment then added, “I’m not crazy, you know.”
~~~
Senna and Blake were going to go to a movie and eat out that evening, but she felt so drained from the day she wasn’t sure she had anything to give to Blake.
It felt comfortable telling the doctor what she had told Andrea and Blake, but now she just felt drained and agitated and had no idea why. The thought crossed her mind to call Blake and cancel their date, but Blake always had a way of calming her and helping her feel better about things.
She thought again about going to church with Blake on Sunday. The coincidence was interesting to Senna that both he and Andrea went to the same church. The thought made her feel sick inside when she remembered going to church growing up. How could she go back to an archaic institution that had helped to damage her when she was just now starting to heal? She just didn’t think she could do it.
Blake and Andrea had become the two closest people in her life. When she looked at them, at their lives, she could not reconcile the condemning and judgmental church she had known with what she saw in them. How could they thrive in that kind of environment? What made them want to?
The more she thought about it, the more curious she became. Finally she decided that she would go out of sheer curiosity and for no other reason. She could sit through it one more time, just as she had done countless times in her youth. She wanted to watch Andrea and Blake as they sat there and were told just how bad they were. She wanted to watch their faces and see their reactions.
Once home, she lingered in the shower. She had grown to enjoy the act of selecting outfits and getting ready for work and dates with Blake. For most of her life, choosing clothing and getting dressed was just another chore to be done. If it had not been for Gran, she would have never realized that there could be enjoyment in it.
The shower felt warm and soothing against her skin. The driving droplets helped calm her anxiety and she could feel the tension flow from her body. Outside she could hear the kids in the neighborhood laugh and play and she smiled. She made the decision right then and there to no longer grieve for what she had lost, but to live for what was ahead.
Soon Blake arrived, and they agreed that they were both very hungry and that dinner should come before the movie. Blake’s choice was low-key and quiet. He enjoyed Senna’s company so much that the typical noisy places caused too much distraction and certainly hindered conversation.
During dinner, Senna felt the courage she needed to talk with Blake about church.
“I’ve given it a lot of thought and I have decided to come to church with you,” she said.
Blake was shocked, but tried to not let it show. He’d been hoping that she’d change her mind, but didn’t think it would happen so soon.
“I would love that,” he said.
“Just once. I’ll come just this one time,” she was adamant. She didn’t want to set up expectations that this was the start of her routinely going back to church. It was important to her that he knew and understood that this was a onetime thing.
He smiled at Senna. Once was enough because he knew if she took the chance to do it once, she might take the chance to do it again. “I’m thrilled and I do understand that this is a onetime deal. I do not want you to ever feel pressure from me to go to church.”
She could sense his sincerity and felt much better about her decision. It set a comfortable tone to the remainder of the evening. Dinner was great, and the movie was fun. The evening seemed to end way too soon for both Senna and Blake.
Standing on her doorstep yet one more time, Blake was exercising self-control. He had never felt such passion and desire for a woman before. His physical desire was almost overwhelming. But he had chosen to be celibate until marriage, a point of view pretty much unheard of in this day and age. But the respect he felt for Senna helped hold him to that commitment.
Blake wondered what Senna thought and felt about sexual intimacy. He assumed that with her strict upbringing it was ingrained in her the evils of sexual relationships before marriage. But he also knew that some old teachings taught that it was never to be enjoyed even by a husband and wife. He had a feeling that was just what she had been taught. Someday he wanted to talk with her about all of that, but tonight was not the time.
They stood close together. Blake had his arms around her pulling her close to him. Senna’s arms were folded in and resting on Blake’s chest, with her head resting on his shoulder. She was soaking in the comfort that is arms gave her and never wanted that feeling to end.
Blake could smell that beautiful scent that was uniquely hers, a combination of shampoos, lotions, and other things she chose just for herself. Her head laid on his shoulder and her hair which was done in a loose braid, had fallen to the side. Her neck was bare and beckoned for him to kiss it, and he did, gently at first and then more passionately.
Senna felt a surge of desire rush inside her. She both loved and hated it. It was yet another new emotion in her life to reconcile. But she felt herself surrender to the feeling. She looked up at Blake and his lips found hers, first simply then passionately.
Soon Blake pulled away so he could regain his composure, looking her lovingly in the eyes the entire time. He did not want her to think he was pulling away from rejection, but out of respect. She’d had way too much rejection in her life.
He rested his forehead on Senna’s. “You drive me crazy,” he said. His voice was low and soft.
Senna once again didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what was appropriate to say, so she stood quietly in Blake’s arms.
“I think I should go now even though it is the last thing I want to do,” said Blake.
“Sunday evening my family is having a cookout. I want you to go with me. I want them to meet you.” Blake’s voice was excited.
Hope dominated the gaze he gave Senna, but with everything else going on in her life she just wasn’t ready. The look on her face told Blake what he knew was true. It wasn’t time yet.
“I want to, but I don’t know if I’m ready. It’s only been two weeks since my world started to change so drastically. Two weeks. I’m overwhelmed, Blake,” her eyes were pleading with him to understand. “I need to catch my breath.”
Blake was disappointed, but he understood. The last thing he wanted was to rush her. She was healing, he could tell, but that could all change if he pushed for too much too soon. She would be going to church with him on Sunday and that was a huge hurdle.
The awkward moment passed quickly when Blake gave her one of those huge smiles and kissed her. He took her back into his arms and held her. “I don’t want to rush you. I am so thankful for all the changes you’ve been willing to make. Take your time. There’s no hurry.”
Senna felt relieved. She felt like she was navigating new territory every single moment, with each word having the capacity to topple this wonderful new life she was experiencing. So each time she spoke what she felt, she didn’t know if she would be accepted or rejected.
Blake finally pulled away, kissing her one last time and saying goodnight. He waited until Senna was safely inside before he walked to his car and drove away.
~~~
The rough morning had not been enough to deter Carrie from another night out. She once again found herself at the Darkside.
The place was unusually full. She found an empty stool at the bar and ordered her usual whiskey neat and motioned for another before the other was all the way down. The warmth of the amber liquid was familiar and welcoming.
After the second drink, she turned to survey the crowd. It seemed all the usual people were there and many more just like them. She watched the pool room as several cowboys laughed and played pool. Nice looking men, she thought.
Over at a table in the back were the regular bikers, but a few new, younger faces, as well. Hmmm, that’s intriguing, she thought. Then scanning the room, she noticed a man about her age sitting alone at a table near the back. A very nice looking man.
She wondered what his story was. Could he be drowning his sorrows after a breakup? A good-looking guy like that couldn’t be desperate for female companionship. It looked to Carrie that he was oblivious to the rest of the room. She thought he needed company, her company.
Just before sliding off of her stool, she ordered yet another drink to take with her. She didn’t want to show up at his table empty-handed. He never saw her approach and only looked up from his drink when she was standing right next to his table.
“May I sit down?” Carrie asked.
He looked up at her, disinterested. She’d broken his dark concentration. Before he could decide what to say, she’d sat down across from him, drink in hand. “Suit yourself,” he said, then looked back down at his drink.
Carrie felt a weird tingling in her ‘cop senses’ which usually put her on high alert. The alcohol, however, had dulled them considerably.
She sat watching him for a while as she slowly nursed her drink, not saying a word. He was very interesting to her. He seemed out of place here, but yet somehow still at home.
“I’m a good listener,” she said.
He looked up. “What makes you think I need a good listener?” he asked. His voice was neutral. He did not appear irritated at her question, but he also didn’t appear as though he wanted to continue the conversation.
Maybe Carrie should just leave him alone and find someone else to entertain her. No, she thought, he would be a challenge. She decided he would be her fun for the night.
She sat her drink down on the table and resting her arms there, leaning forward. Her blouse slipped low showing voluptuous cleavage that had never been turned down. She had used it often to get what she wanted.
“I think you’re deep in thought. By the look on your face, the thought you are deep in, is pulling you under,” Carrie said.
He looked at her. Her face and her body. Nice, he thought, very nice. But what did she want, he wondered? He had his own problems and didn’t need another needy female adding to them.
Almost as though reading his mind, Carrie said, “Hey, I don’t want anything but a good time. I want to enjoy tonight and not think about tomorrow.”
He thought about her words while watching her face. Did she mean it, he wondered? Why not? What did he have to lose?
He picked up his glass to indicate they should toast. Carrie smiled and picked up her glass.
They talked very little. Carrie had as little interest in getting to know him as he seemed to have in her. Finally, when she felt she’d put her time in with small talk she asked, “Do you want to get out of here?”
He did. He was sufficiently drunk and ready to do anything at that point.
They walked out to the parking lot with Carrie leading the way. About two feet from the car door, he stopped with a start.
He couldn’t believe the car he was about to get into. He’d never ridden in something like this, but had always wanted to. He looked from the car to the lady standing on the other side. What was up with her? A beautiful woman in a small town seedy bar driving a Porche. It didn’t fit, but oh well!
They were soon tucked inside the soft leather feeling the roar of the engine underneath them. With sweet intoxication still lingering, they rode in silence for several miles.
Finally he asked, “Where are we going?”
“I have a spot,” she said and looked over at him once again giving him a seductive look.
They were driving on a small highway, going north away from town. With each mile there were fewer and fewer businesses, houses, and traffic. The man didn’t care and eventually closed his eyes, drifting off.
Then the crunch of gravel beneath the tires jarred him awake. He had no idea where they were. He’d sobered up somewhat, but still didn’t have his full senses about him.
“Where are we?” He asked looking around. They were in a very wooded area and had been traveling down a long gravel road.
“I said I had a spot,” replied Carrie. “I don’t like people in my business. This is an old family cabin that I use sometimes. It’s quiet here and no one will see us or bother us.”
She parked the car around back in a detached shed she used as a garage. She opened a small compartment in the car and pulled out a separate set of keys that were just for the cabin.
When they entered the backdoor of the cabin, the man saw that it was clean and cozy. There was no electricity, but it had been fitted nicely with gas lanterns, one of which Carrie lighted immediately upon entering. The lanterns filled the room with enough light to see, and the low light was quite enticing.
The cabin had a living room, one bedroom, a kitchen and a bathroom. All rooms looked as though someone lived here from time to time. “You live here?” he asked her.
“No, it is just a private little getaway when I can’t take the stress of the city anymore,” Carrie said as she finished lighting that last lantern.
She walked over to a cabinet where she kept a liquor stash. She uncorked a bottle and poured them each a glass. The man took his glass and drank it down as did Carrie. They each felt a refreshed surge of heat and intoxication.
He sat his glass down and walked over to her, putting his arms around her. The embrace led to passionate kissing and fondling. Very quickly, the man became very aggressive. Carrie pushed him away.
She gritted her teeth and glared at him. She was the aggressor, not him. They were to play her game and follow her lead, not the other way around.
But no one had told the man the rules of her game. Carrie’s rejection had only fueled the anger he had been trying to overcome earlier in the evening. He would not be denied. She wasn’t going to set this whole thing up and then stop him cold.
He grabbed her and pulled her so tightly to him she had no room to fight back. Then his mouth found hers and the mutual aggression soon led to rough passion.
Carrie was so drunk by then she didn’t care.