Her Eyes
Chapter 29: ASSUMPTIONS
It had been a long morning of staring at pictures, when Officer Jeffcoat stepped into the sheriff's office. He looked down at the photographs that were scattered across the desk. "We got her real name…Lindsey Davis, twenty-two, born in Omaha, living in L.A. She flew into Portland four days ago. Travel records show she's been commuting into White Pine Bay one weekend a month for the past eleven months," the officer stated. "We found her profile on the high-end escort service. She's worth ten thousand a weekend."
Alex looked up at him, giving him an appreciative nod. "Well that cuts down the list."
"Sheriff Romero," a man's voice caught his attention. Alex looked over at the man, confused as to who he was and why he was there. "I just flashed my credentials and your gal up front let me in. You might wanna tighten up on security," the man mocked. "I'm Marcus Young."
Alex cringed inside. "Running for sheriff."
The man gave him a poster-worthy smile. "That's right. I thought it'd be nice for us to meet."
He had just met the man and he had already hated him. Who was he to come to his place of work and try to intimidate him? "Why would that be nice?"
"So we could talk." Marcus took a step inside the room. He was pushing it.
Alex turned to Officer Jeffcoat, a little embarrassed he was witnessing this. "Give us a minute." He waited for Jeffcoat to leave before returning his gaze to Marcus.
"I love this town," Marcus admitted, walking over to the window to get a look at the view.
The sheriff got up and moved to the front of his desk. "You moved here from where?" He took a seat on the edge—part of him was trying to block the photos from the man.
Marcus turned around to face him. "I was a lone man for eleven years in Missouri. I spent the last four years as sheriff. But I'm not new to White Pine Bay," he smiled arrogantly. "I've been here a bunch of times. My daddy's got a lot of friends here."
The sheriff crossed his arms over his chest, nodding. "Your daddy's friends thought it might be nice for you to come up here and run for the election?" He gave him an inquiring look.
"I understand this isn't fun for you." He shot him an understanding look. "Being a sheriff is like being a football coach." Alex hated sports. He hated this guy. He wanted him to leave. "You play out your strain for as long as you can, but eventually you're gonna have some losing seasons. And then it's time to move on."
He couldn't believe this guy. He laughed to himself. No one could ever intimidate Alex Romero. "Well there's only one problem we got here, Marcus." He pressed his anger into a smile. "I'm not moving on. I'm not going anywhere. And you're not gonna be the next sheriff." He loosened up a bit, regaining control. "I hope you catch some fish…and I hope you haven't sold your house in Missouri." He got up from the desk, unfolding his arms. "Well I got some work to do now, Marcus. I'm glad you could see the office, cause this is the last time you're ever gonna be in here. Why don't you show yourself out?"
Alex began to make his way back to his chair when felt the man hit his back roughly. Marcus smiled as he turned around in the doorway. "The homicides are always tough. If I can be of any assistance, just holler."
Alex waited for the man to leave before letting out a deep breath. Sometimes he really hated people.
It was around nine o'clock when the station got a call from the Bates Motel. All Alex had heard was that a woman had been shot, and his thoughts immediately went to Norma. He pulled up to the motel to find the other officers and paramedics already there. As he climbed out of the SUV, he spotted the dead woman and approached Officer Jeffcoat. "Where's Norma Bates?"
"She's in the office with the paramedics," the officer replied.
Alex left his side and stepped in the office to find Norma getting her blood pressure taken. He studied her from the distance—she looked like a mess. She panicked when she spotted him, ripping the monitor off her arm and running towards him. He thought she was going to fall into his arms and tell him what happened but— "Norman wasn't anywhere near her. He was up in bed sleeping," she pleaded.
He stared back at her, confused. He hadn't even thought about Norman. "Okay, Norma." He tried to calm her down.
"Just leave him alone. He's not feeling very well." Norman was never 'feeling well' when bad things happened. Norma's face glowed with fear when she took her gaze off of the sheriff. "He doesn't need to see any of this." She pressed her hand into his arm as she pushed past him.
Alex followed her out to the porch, watching as she dragged her son away from the scene. He stood for a moment trying to decipher what they were saying until Officer Jeffcoat approached him. "They want to know what you wanna do with the car," he stated, looking off in the direction the sheriff was.
"Tow it," he mumbled. He didn't take his eyes off Norma.
The officer studied him. "She seemed pretty shook up when we got here."
"She's always like that." He left the officer and sauntered over to Norma. "We need to talk," he told her, turning to watch Dylan help his brother up the steps to the house.
She sighed before she led him up, leading him into the kitchen motioning for him to have a seat. "What do you want?" she huffed, taking the seat across from him.
Her tone had made him angry. "I wanna know what happened—I wanna know why there's a dead girl on your motel porch."
She looked to the floor as she leaned in, placing her elbows on the tabletop. "I was in the office closing up. This car comes screeching in. Annika gets out of it. She stares over to me, falls in my arms. I realize that she has been shot. I call 911 and she dies before they arrive." Her eyes met his. He stared back at her, emotionless. "I know it's crazy. It doesn't make any sense."
His eyes dropped to her bloody sleeve as she began to fiddle with it. "You've never seen that car before?" He knew whose car it was…it belonged to Bob Paris.
"No, no you towed the car. I don't know what car that was." She started to get up from the table. "Can I possibly get outta these clothes?"
He couldn't tell if she was digressing for a reason or if she really was uncomfortable. Either way she knew exactly what cards to play, but so did he. "What was wrong with Norman when he came down to the motel?"
"Wrong with him?" He'd hit something. "You mean the fact that he had a compassionate human reaction to one of our guests dying in our driveway?" He tried not to break from his stoic demeanor—he needed to be the sheriff right now. He could tell it was hurting her. "You don't get to do this."
It was like they were a married couple. He raised his eyebrows. "Do what?" He was a grown man—he could do whatever the hell he wanted.
"Sit here in my house and suspect me and/or Norman…and say stuff like that. Not after everything." The hurt in her voice hit him like a rock, but he wouldn't break…not in front of her. So she gave up. They were back to square one. "I've told you all I know. Do you not believe me? Is there something else that you're looking for?"
He studied her for a moment. He had to choose his words carefully or he'd lose her. "Chaos seems to swirl around you…I'm not sure why." The saddened look on her face broke his heart. "And I wanna believe you're telling me everything, but none of this makes any sense. Why would this girl after she's been shot make the effort to drive here?"
"Maybe because it was close—maybe she just wanted to get to someone who could help her get to a hospital." She gave him one last look before fully standing up. "That's all I know. I'm gonna go check on Norman. You can show yourself out."
He sighed when he heard her footsteps climb the stairs. He hated when things got like this between them. She was his only real friend. He walked out of the house and climbed down the steps back to his SUV. Everyone else had left by now, so no one would notice if he took a different route back to the station. He needed to make a quick stop. He called Bob to ensure he was at the club.
When he got to the Arcanum Club, he spotted him walking out. It was like Bob to try to run away and pretend he forgot, but Alex had caught him. "You called, Alex," he stated as the sheriff approached him.
"That girl that was missing, she was shot. And I know she was here," he threatened. He was still angry from his encounter with Norma.
"You wanna take a look? You're not gonna find anything," the man laughed.
Alex glared at him. "I think you and I should be talking in a more formal setting…like an interrogation." He watched as Bob tried to leave, clearly annoyed by his presence. "I've got two dead girls in two days both with links to your club."
Bob turned around to face him. "You don't have two dead girls—you have two dead hookers." Alex could have socked him right in the face just for that. "And this is the town's club. I'm just the elected president," he smiled smugly. He leaned in closer to him. "Tell me something, Alex. This missing girl, did she have anything on her?"
"That's a pretty incriminating question, Bob." Alex stared at him. He knew he killed those girls.
Bob rolled his eyes. "Don't jump to conclusions. You're a little out of the loop these days." He turned and walked off.
It stung—what he said. It seemed everywhere he turned Alex was faced with the constant reminder of how alone he was. And that the one person he was trying to get close to was pushing him away.
