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by Dennis Upkins
The grandfather clock read five past
three when Cole arrived home. He placed his briefcase next
to his mahogany desk and ran a pale hand through his dark
brown hair. It had been an arduous day at the office. The
fact that it was his thirty-ninth birthday didn’t exactly
alleviate any of the stress that gathered in his shoulders.
At least he was home and could spend a quiet evening in the
confines of the barren white walls of his new apartment.
He picked up a portrait of himself and
Brody. In it a grinning policeman uniform clad Brody had his
arms wrapped around Cole’s neck. It had been taken in
another lifetime, yet the dark blue eyes and scruffy blond
hair that had first drawn him to Brody at Jamie's dinner
party all those years ago still entranced him.
A year had passed since Brody’s murder.
It didn’t seem like it to Cole however. He remembered every
minute detail of that night like it happened hours ago. He
had arrived home and upon entering the living room, he had
found Brody lying in a pool of blood from a gunshot wound.
The shattered portraits and the overturned furniture in
their loft indicated a robbery attempt gone wrong. Cole had
held Brody as he watched the dying cop clutch his brown
tribal necklace underneath his uniform with his bloodied
hand.
This would be the first birthday Cole
would be celebrating without his lover. He curled into a
ball on the couch as he held the picture, his heart still
plagued by grief, anger and guilt. Tears streamed down his
face. He gazed into Brody’s eyes as he drifted off to sleep.
#
It was nightfall when he awoke. Cold, a
chill wind played over him. Glancing down, he found the
picture frame had been cracked in the center. He rubbed his
eyes in disbelief. He stared across the dark apartment.
“That window wasn’t open.”
He shut the window. A faint light
emanated from behind him. Slowly turning around, he found a
cupcake with a lit candle resting on the kitchen table.
“What the—?”
Cole’s eyes widened as Brody stood
before him, dressed in faintly glowing ivory garb. His heart
pounding frantically in chest, Cole gasped and slowly backed
away from his lover.
Brody grinned, “It’s okay Cole.”
“What are you doing here?” Cole asked.
“It’s your birthday,” Brody replied. “I
wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
Brody waved his hand and a slow violin
dirge emanated from the stereo system. Cole smiled as tears
streamed down his face. Brody slowly grabbed his hand and
the two swayed to the music. Cole closed his eyes and
sighed. It had been a year since he had been able to lay his
head as well as his worries on Brody’s shoulders. Upon
opening his eyes he gasped as he realized the two of them
were hovering in the air.
“I see you’ve picked up a few moves,”
Cole said.
“I’ve got a few more left,” Brody
replied.
He grabbed Cole’s chin and kissed him.
As their lips locked, Brody unbuttoned and removed Cole’s
shirt. Brody planted kisses on Cole’s neck and descended
down his torso. Cole shut his eyes as he felt his pants
being unbuckled. He gasped as he felt his lover’s caresses
descend even further.
#
“God I’ve missed that,” Brody said,
breathing heavily next to Cole in bed.
“I can tell,” Cole laughed. “You were
enthused.”
“Judging by the size of this place, I
take it that business is doing well,” Brody said.
“Yeah the Newnan Group has really taken
off,” Cole said. “We got some heavy investors, and we’re
almost getting more land development contracts than we can
handle. I finally treated myself and bought that Mustang I
used to drool over.” He looked away, “I just couldn’t stay
at the loft, not after everything that happened.”
“I know,” Brody replied. “I should’ve
listened to you. It wasn’t like you to warn me about my job.
You kept telling me that you had a bad feeling about this
case.”
“There were just too many important
people in that bribery investigation,” Cole said. “The
former D.A. and the ex CEO of Memorial Hospital, people with
power and probably a few skeletons. I just kept getting a
bad feeling. I didn’t even want to leave for that business
trip that night.”
“I remember,” Brody said.
“You know I hated you for the longest
time,” Cole said. “I thought you were taking on this case
and ignoring the obvious dangers just to boost your career.
It took me a long time to realize that you only wanted to do
the right thing. I think that’s what made you such a good
cop.”
Cole rubbed Brody’s tribal necklace.
His fingers explored the brown beads and the African spear.
He smiled, “What is it with you and this necklace?”
“I bought it from this old Nigerian man
back in high school,” Brody said. “He said there was some
myth behind it about it gaining me favor with the fates or
something. I always thought that was his sales pitch. Now,
I’m not so sure.” He rested his head on Cole’s shoulder, “I
promised myself that if I ever got a second chance I would
try to make things right. No matter what happened, I’m just
glad I got to see you one last time.”
“Me too,” Cole said.
Brody kissed his lover.
“Honey?” Brody asked, “Why did I die in
your arms the night I was murdered?”
“What--what?”
“You were supposed to be out of town on
a business trip,” Brody said. “In fact you called me on your
cell after you landed in Pittsburgh. What were you doing
home?”
“The meeting was cancelled,” Cole said.
“I wanted to surprise you.”
Brody shook his head, “You know you
really shouldn’t lie to a cop, especially if you’re bad at
doing it.”
Cole scooted away from Brody, “What are
you trying to say?”
“The papers stated that I was killed in
a home invasion. But we had a top notch security system.
There was no forced entry otherwise the alarm would’ve been
triggered. The alarm was armed when I got home that night
and everything was in order. The gunman trashed the place
and cut the wires to the security system after he shot me.
The only way someone could’ve gotten inside the house was if
they had a key and knew the code.”
Cole’s eyes widened with horror, “You
honestly think that I—”
“The former DA, Simon, and the Memorial
CEO, Rutgers, were taking bribes and investing in a land
development deal. Three guesses whose company I discovered
was brokering the deal the night I get killed?”
Cole slowly got out of bed.
You didn’t even have the stones to do
the deed yourself,” Brody continued. “Simon and Rutgers
didn’t even have to persuade you, did they? It was your idea
wasn’t it? Even after finding out that your company was
involved in the case; it never once occurred to me that you
could’ve possibly been in on it. Tell me, did you enjoy
coming home, finding me half dead and playing the mourning
husband later? Why? Why did you do it?”
“Because I worked too hard to get to
where I am, that’s why!” Cole cried. “And I wasn’t going to
let anyone ruin this for me; not even you. I loved you! I
begged you to back off and to leave this case alone but you
wouldn’t do it! You always had to be the straight arrow. Do
you have any idea how hard it is to live with someone like
that? I loved you so much but you weren’t going to screw
this up for me.”
Cole reached into his nightstand and
removed a handgun. He aimed it at Brody.
“Is this why you came back, to punish
me for my sins?”
“I’m dead, remember,” Brody said. “That
thing’s not going to do you much good.”
“Stay back!”
“Besides we’ve already done guns.”
“I said stay back!”
“Can we please try a new theme?”
Cole squeezed the trigger only to hear
a light click. After repeated pulls of the trigger, he
finally realized that the gun was empty.
“Wow you actually pulled the trigger
yourself this time,” Brody said. “Haven’t we grown a spine.
Too bad you forgot to reload after the gun was last used.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Cole asked.
“I’m not exactly a fortune teller but I
suspect that my former colleagues on the force are going to
find Simon and Rutgers murdered in their homes in a botched
robbery attempt. Can we say deja vu? Seems that the same
gunman you hired to murder me was hired to take them out.
I’m betting that the large deposits in his banking account,
from your checking account of course, are probably going to
steer the police in your direction. However, the cops are
going to hit a dead-end of sorts because they’re going to
find him…well…dead. It seems someone decided to unload an
entire clip into him. I wonder whose gun ballistics is going
to rule as the murder weapon.”
Cole’s eyes bulged in horror.
“Oh but it gets better,” Brody said.
“You see it turns out that Rutgers was a most meticulous and
paranoid individual who kept notes, files, and other
incriminating evidence in case his partners ever tried to
burn him. Said evidence is going to be found on top right
drawer of his desk in his study. With everyone else dead and
you owning the murder weapon…wow you could be doing life,
but considering that you murdered four people, including a
cop, you’re more likely to be looking at the death penalty.”
“You’re lying,” Cole said, “About all
of it.”
Brody grinned. His body morphed until
Cole stood face to face with an exact duplicate of himself.
Brody raised an eyebrow, “Am I?”
Cole screamed as he woke up. As he
hopped off of the sofa, he glanced at the VCR clock. The
neon blue digits indicated that it was a quarter after
eleven. He wiped the sweat from his face and neck. The past
few hours had been too intense to be a dream but Cole
finally persuaded himself that his mind was simply playing
tricks on him. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled into the
kitchen and poured himself a glass of Scotch. As his drink
soothed his nerves, he returned to the sofa and turned on
the television. He absently flipped through the cable
channels before settling on a sitcom about four 20-something
New Yorkers who shared an apartment. Cole took another sip.
Suddenly the program was interrupted for a special news
report.
“Former district attorney James Simon
was found murdered in his home,” the anchor woman stated,
“Police suspect that it was a home invasion attempt gone
awry. This is the second high profile murder of the night.
Hours before, Mark Rutgers, CEO of Memorial Hospital was
also found murdered in his home. Authorities suspect that
there may be a connection between the two deaths.”
He dropped his glass which shattered on
the hardwood floor.
“Authorities say they have several
solid leads as well as a suspect,” the news anchor
continued.
He dashed to the nightstand in his
bedroom. Yanking open the drawer, he sighed upon finding the
gun where he normally kept it. Examining the weapon, he
realized it was warm. He removed the magazine. His eyes
widened in disbelief. The clip was completely empty. He
grabbed the gun and raced out of the apartment.
The wind whisked harshly as Cole made
his way to the parking lot. He halted in the street as he
found yet another surprise waiting for him. His gray Mustang
was nowhere to be found. Cole shielded his eyes as high
beams from a pair of headlights shone in his direction. He
heard the familiar rev of his car’s engine seconds before
the Mustang torpedoed into him. Cole bounced off the hood of
his car before crashing face-first onto the cold asphalt.
His body broken and bleeding, he could only watch as his car
came to a halt and the driver stepped out of the vehicle.
Cole couldn’t believe his eyes as Brody approached him, this
time his attire completely black. His dead lover kneeled
next to him.
“You,” Cole groaned. “You’re not real.
None of this is real.”
Brody smiled as he pointed to his
necklace.
“Seems like the old man wasn’t pulling
my leg after all,” Brody said. “The Fates don’t take kindly
to us straight arrows being brutally betrayed and murdered
by the people we love. This little trinket allowed me the
opportunity to even the score. I told you if I got a chance
to make things right I would. You know I’ve always been a
man of my word. But here’s the real rub, is this really me
or a vengeful spirit using my persona? Something to think
about.”
“Why?” Cole asked. “Why all the games?”
“You mean the grand entrance, the
dancing and the sex?” Brody asked. “You may be a duplicitous
murdering bastard but you were always a world class lay. No
reason why I couldn’t get one more ride out of you. You
screwed me over, figured I could return the favor.”
“So what, you gonna finish the job
now?” Cole asked.
“Oh no, you don’t get off the hook that
easily,” Brody said. “You’re going to live for at least
another half a century. You’re going to live broke,
disgraced, and crippled in an eight by ten cell for the rest
of your existence.”
“You fucking bastard,” Cole screamed.
Brody stared at the car. “You know your
blood just does nothing for the car’s paint job.”
With a wave of his hand, the Mustang’s
color shifted from gray to yellow sans the blood stains and
the dents.
“Much better,” Brody said. “I’d best be
off. Don’t worry, the cops should be here any second.”
“Go to hell!”
Brody started for the car but turned
back and returned to Cole.
“I can’t believe I almost forgot to
tell you this,” Brody said. “Happy birthday.”
Brody hopped back into the Mustang and
drove off. Cole shut his eyes and sobbed as the blaring of
police sirens grew louder. |
