AN: Just to let everyone know, the character Jimmy in this story is not to be confused with the Jimmy in Halloween II played by Lance Guest. They are two completely different characters.
Chapter Twelve: The OfficerOfficer Deeney fiddled with the radio dial as he drove down the darkened road in the steel protection of his cruiser.
Like many nights, tonight was exceptionally unexciting. And it was always better that way.
After filing the Does' break in, he went to patrolling the backwoods — his usual routine. Ever since his superior announced doubling patrol shifts the closer they approached Halloween, Officer Deeney dreaded the holiday.
The entire station discreetly understood that Sheriff Bracket, unlike most fathers who'd blame themselves for the death of their children, had developed a worrying obsession with Michael Myers. Of which he couldn't tell was the lesser of two evils. One year later, what remained of this broken man was the determination that no other father would suffer the same loss he did. For that, he had Officer Deeney's sympathies but, not his favor.
Five hundreds yards ahead, he spotted a pair of headlights glare at him from the gloom.
Three hundred.
Two.
Closer. Closer.
The growl of its engine vibrated in his ears.
He couldn't help the unwanted sense of foreboding that came with its arrival. It was probably nothing. He guessed that Doe girl still got to him—
What's wrong with her, Mrs. Harber?
You'd think I'd know? The poor thing hasn't said a peep since she got here. What took you boys so long?
Miss Doe, can you hear me? Miss Doe...
He'd found her in Regina Harber's living room, curled in the woman's side as they both sat on a battered loveseat, with a look which stared at nothing or through everything. Whatever that girl had heard or seen in that house, he bet her imagination was far crueler than what reality foretold.
Fifty feet.
Closer now, Officer Deeney's eyes flashed to the windshield of a Ford pickup on impulse, glancing at the driver when his heart had turned to rock. The car had sped past fifty feet when the police cruiser swung around, fender hugging the shoulder of the road, tires screeching in protest as Officer Deeney performed a sharp U-turn.
Stepping on the gas and flanking the side of the Ford, the officer swerved in front of the car and decelerated until the driver yielded and both vehicles came to a stop.
Officer Deeney jumped out of his car, hand positioned on his holster. As he tiptoed to the driver's side, the driver fingered the edge of the white mask and peeled it off his familiar face so that it rested on his head, bunched around the crown.
Relief quickly flooded him, but that didn't make him any less fooled.
But, he thought he saw…
Officer Deeney pulled himself together and marched up to the driver side.
The driver rolled down the window, lidded hazel eyes glowering at the officer. At his belt, Officer Deeney took out his flashlight and shined it at the boy who'd squinted up at the blinding beam.
"Evenin', James. How's your mother doing?"
The frown he received worsened into a sneer. "No offense, Officer Deeney, but it's 'Jimmy.' And, that's none of your business."
"Alright, Jimmy…" Officer Deeney's expression remained stony, even if the sly look Bonfim shot at him tried his fist. "Have you been drinking this evening?"
"It's a Friday night…" Bonfim shrugged. "So, no sir." His smirk slid across his face like a liquid spill.
When the man bent slightly forward at the waist, he barely caught the flash of long smooth legs. Officer Deeney ticked his head. "And who's the young lady accompanying you?"
Bonfim took a long look at the girl beside him and so did Officer Deeney who'd quickly gotten over his curiosity for the girl's scant dress.
"A friend," the boy replied casually.
Officer Deeney frowned slightly and peered into the window, shining his flashlight over the curtain of her hair covering her face, blond head leaning on the window.
"Excuse me miss, you mind telling me your name?"
When she hadn't moved, a picture of his beautiful ten year old daughter flickered in his mind tauntingly and he glared at the boy. Jimmy Bonfim had tried to be discreet when he gulped, but the act spurred on the man's suspicions.
"I'm going to have to ask you to get out of the car."
Jimmy gaped, mouth twitching with the beginnings of an insult. "You can fuck right off man, I don't like uptight assholes ruining my weekend."
Officer Deeney brandished his gun from his hip.
The boy stared at him, jaw clenched in thought— considering his options.
"And I don't like asking twice," Officer Deeney warned. "Get out."
With an exasperated groan, Bonfim swung the driver's door outward, nearly hitting Officer Deeney had the man not leapt back, and raised his hands above his head as he stepped out.
The boy's costume unsettled him. Richard mentioned that Jimmy Bonfim had a troubling obsessed with the crimes of Michael Myers. Most of the town was aware of it, though they tried to pass it off as harmless even if the boy had dodged a few sexual assault accusations over this past summer.
Boys would be boys, right?
But this...
Acting without thinking, which he rarely did, Officer Deeney took a fistful of the boy's mechanic suit near the collar and slammed him into the side of the car, pointing the muzzle beneath his chin.
"What the fuck! You're fucking crazy!" Jimmy exclaimed, wincing as Officer Deeney pushed him back so roughly one would think he were trying to ground the boy to dust using the frame of the truck.
"Oh yeah? Is there a reason you're dressed like that? Like that lunatic Myers? Tell me, Jimmy, what are you taking? Because I bet your ass you aren't even half as loaded as that girl inside your car."
"Now I get why Ricky Dicky has got such a massive stick up his ass. His daddy's a trigger happy asshole."
The smirk crawling on his face incited Officer Deeney to thrust the muzzle harder against his chin.
An ear splitting scream pierced the night sky and shook his resolve. His gun hand lowered in surprise. His second's distraction allowed Jimmy to duck under Officer Deeney's arm.
"Hey! Come back here!" Officer Deeney swiped at his sleeve but failed to grab it.
"Eat it, motherfucker!"
A flash of dark blue of the mechanic's suit bolted for the cover of the trees and brush thicket bordering the road. Officer Deeney would've severed his tongue by how hard he grit his teeth.
He was so close.
So close.
Damn.
"Help me! Help me!"
The man turned to the source of those blood curdling pleas and his eyes landed on a figure barrelling towards him from the direction that James Bonfim had escaped. Her black hair was in disarray. Her clothes were rumpled as if wrung straight out of the washer. Bloodstains flecked the front of her blouse and red was smattered on her upper lip.
Nose bleed.
"Miss...Doe?"
"Officer Deeney! Please—Michael Myers—Michael Myers…" Her speech degenerated into tearful gibberish when she grabbed the front of the man's jacket, one palm clutching the sewn badge of "Warren County" at his bicep. She could've been drowning by how hard she clung to him.
Drowning in a tank with sharks.
"Pl-please!" she sputtered.
Officer Deeney took a breath. "Okay, Carmen, tell me what happened."
"My brother's insane."
He arched an eyebrow at her critically.
"He's the one who broke into our home, knocked out my father. But, he didn't really break into it because he has a key!" she rambled. "He took the gun, and he has Michael Myers with him! I don't know how he got there, please don't ask. I don't know. I don't know."
Officer Deeney sighed, and stowed away his weapon at his hip. He didn't have time to deal with some girl's outrageous make believe when the real threat stemmed from a perverted eighteen year old who running rampant through the forest. "Carmen, I get it. This evening's gotten to your head. But, there's nothing to be afraid—"
Carmen silenced him with a snarl, shoving him away. Desperation no longer laced her voice and the ferocity of her words seemed to sober her from the intoxication of her hysteria. After that outburst, he almost believed her, except he didn't.
"I know what I saw! I'm not crazy!"
Officer Deeney straightened, showing his palms to placate her. "Please calm down. I'm sorry for discrediting you. I'm only concerned for your safety."
At that, her face relaxed and fell into her hands. "I'm sorry, Officer Deeney. Y-you're right."
Officer Deeney took a step towards her, reaching into his front pocket for an unused handkerchief and offered it to her. "Good. Take this and wipe your face…" he directed, "Remember to compose yourself. You can take a breather, you're safe."
Carmen did as she was told. Lifting her head, she inhaled deeply through nostrils, raking back the unruly hair webbed over her face with her fingers.
She wiped around her mouth and handed him back the small square cloth.
"It's fine — you can keep it," he said, in which she stuffed it into her skirt pocket.
Officer Deeney's lips pressed into a thin line. He wanted to believe she was harmless, but the nonsense leaving her mouth gave him good reason to think this girl deserved a visit to Smith's Grove.
"Now…" Officer Deeney said. "Have you consumed any narcotics in the last few hours?"
"What?" She looked at him sharply. "Am I — no! I'm not! Why don't you believe me?"
"First off, I didn't say that...I just need rationalize this — get all the facts. I'm willing to take you to the station. Somewhere safe. Then, afterwards, you have my ear. I promise." He reached out and held both her shaking hands in one of his own, squeezing reassuringly while the other inched around to his back.
Carmen noted the sincerity in his gesture and nodded vigorously, so desperate that she barely noticed the glint of metal in his other hand. "Yes! Anywhere but here!"
"Okay then."
Swiftly, he clapped cufts over both her wrists and before the realization of her detainment could hit her full force, Officer Deeney gripped her upper arm and led her to the cruiser.
"What are you doing? This is a mistake!" She wrenched away from his grasp as though his touch was burning her. Though, he held firm, so firm he worried that bruises would coat her arms in a few hours.
"This," Officer Deeney emphasized, "is for your safety." He ushered her into the back seat of the cruiser and pushed her head down, closing the door. With Carmen Doe no longer wailing in his ear, he could finally think. Plan.
Check on the girl in Bonfim's truck.
Right.
Good decision.
Impulsively, he glanced at the rear window of his cruiser. He shouldn't have done it, he should've looked the other way, because seeing Carmen's desperate gaze made his heart twist uncomfortably.
"Please, you don't know what you're doing! I'm going to be killed!" Her yells were half as loud now but they struck.
When her eyes flicked over his shoulder, her face paled with alarm.
"Oh God!" She jammed her finger against the glass. "He's there! Behind you! Shoot him!" She demanded.
It was the last thing he saw when someone anchored a strong hand on his shoulder and whirled him around. An intrusive sensation of a paper cut sliced across his throat. When his hands snapped to his neck, there was something wrong when his palms became slick with thick globs of fluid that rolled down to his elbows.
Officer Deeney!
He heard Carmen's voice from the inside of the cruiser reduce to hopeless, incomprehensible whimpers.
Officer Deeney hesitated, knees growing weak. "You're…" he stammered, eyes traveling up the collar of a blue mechanic's uniform, up the chin of the mask, up the white curve of his rubber clad cheek.
A realization filled his head.
This was not Jimmy Bonfim.
He managed a gurgle.
"You're…him."
Officer Deeney's vision toppled as his body sank to the ground with a thud.
Black eyes watched his demise unravel.
Officer Deeney's mouth moved to form words, but his voice had abandoned him, and whatever sentence had formed on his tongue went unfinished as darkness consumed him for the very last time.