Gaby, Patrick, Scott, Jimmy Duran, and any others you don't recognize are mine.
Violet is... ?
Rated PG-13 : Harsh language; violence; sexual content.
Reviews are appreciated, please take a moment to leave one.
"Eric? This is Jimmy."
"Jimmy." Eric was only mildly surprised. Jimmy had been Jen's partner -- was still her partner, Eric corrected himself -- as a detective in the Silver Hills police. He had stayed in touch, gotten involved in the recovery effort in the mine, and in their search for Jen when it had become apparent they weren't going to find her body.
There was a slight pause before Jimmy went on, his voice urgent and tense. "Eric, can you come to the stationhouse? Now?"
"Why? What's up?"
"Well... it involves Jen. Sort of."
"Jen? What is it?"
Another pause. "You have to see it to believe it."
Eric frowned. "I'll bring Wes."
"I don't know. Frankly, I'd rather you come alone. I don't know how Wes would react."
"He's not that bad." He didn't completely believe that himself. Wes had been back on the job for a month now, making an obvious effort to function normally, and succeeding for the most part. But he was different, tense and irritable, sometimes seeming stretched as tight as a violin string. More than once Eric had wondered how easily he might snap.
"Come alone. Then you can decide whether to involve Wes."
"Okay. Be there in twenty minutes."
He made it in fifteen, striding quickly into the stationhouse, spurred on by curiosity and his own eagerness to find something, anything, that might lead them to Jen. That would help them find her, maybe even save her. Maybe then the load of guilt he had been carrying would lighten. Guilt that he hadn't been there, hadn't been able to save her at the end. His eyes narrowed, almost seeming to see her again, as he had seen her that last time.
She had been frightened, terrified really, with Norman dragging her away from them. He had tried to reach her, been kept back by the two robots, Silver and Purple. They had confused him, shooting at him, but not hitting Wes or Steve when they clearly had the chance, not hitting him hard enough to demorph him, warning them when Norman set off his bomb. As if they didn't want anyone to get hurt. Yet they had let Norman take Jen. What had they been up to, whose side had they really been on? With a mental shrug he gave it up, as he had so many times before.
And then he was walking into the squad room where he should find Jimmy. Spotting him across the room, talking to a man with brown hair, average size, facing away from Eric. Coming up to them, seeing Jimmy look up at him. Seeing the other man turn around.
"Shit!" Eric stopped abruptly, staring, his heart hammering. Then rage flamed, almost blinding him. He grabbed for his blaster, snarling.
"Eric, stop it! It's not who you think!" Jimmy was standing, stepping between them, holding his arm down.
"It's Norman Ryder!" He pulled away, raising the blaster. "What the hell is going on?"
"I'm sorry, but you're wrong," the man said, his voice Norman's but calmer and quieter than Eric had ever heard it before. He stood, slowly. "I'm Patrick Ryder. Norman's brother."
"Brother?" Eric glared at him, then glanced at Jimmy. "Why should we believe him? He could have dyed his hair, or be wearing a wig again. And contact lenses."
"What about his skin? We checked for makeup. Nothing. No sign of contacts either. And why would Norman Ryder come walking in here?" Jimmy watched him cautiously. "If you'll authorize it, we can get Norman's fingerprint records from Bio-Lab and compare them."
Eric frowned at him. Norman had been a Bio-Lab scientist; he had been fingerprinted just like all scientific staff who worked on sensitive projects. And even identical twins had different fingerprints. "All right," he said. "We'll see who you really are."
A quick call to Bio-Lab arranged for Norman's records to be faxed at once. Jimmy came back to stand beside him as they watched another officer take Ryder's prints and then waited for the comparison. After a few minutes of silence he spoke softly. "Now do you see why I didn't want Wes here?"
"Yeah. Assuming this guy is who he says he is, I'd better break it to him myself. What does he want?"
"Says he wants to tell us what happened to his brother. To take possession of Norman's house, and his bank accounts, and see if he can do anything to make up for what he did."
"Huh. Not much chance of that."
"That's what I told him."
"You sound like you believe him."
"We already looked up some records. Norman does have brothers."
"More than one?"
"Yeah..."
They stopped talking as the fingerprint expert caught their eye. A moment later they were looking at the evidence, Norman's prints and the ones taken from Patrick. With a close look, even Eric could see that they were different.
"No doubt about it," the expert confirmed. "This is not Norman Ryder."
"I still think there's something fishy about this..." Eric cut himself off as Ryder walked up to them, still wiping fingerprint ink from his hands, smiling.
"Now that you're sure who I am, I'd offer to shake hands," he said, "but..." He held up ink-stained fingers. Eric just stared at him. "I don't think we've been introduced," Patrick said mildly.
"This is Eric Myers."
"Yes. The famous Quantum Ranger. It's an honor."
Eric looked at him sharply, wondering if there had been a hint of sarcasm there, or if it was his imagination. "Cut the bull, Ryder," he growled.
"Call me Patrick."
"All right. Patrick. Where's your brother?"
A look of distress came over the other man's face. Eric wondered how real it was. "I'm afraid my brother is dead. That's one of the reasons I'm here. I'm having him declared legally dead."
"Dead? How do you know? We haven't found any remains in the mine where he was last seen." Eric traded an uneasy glance with Jimmy.
"No, he didn't die in the explosion, or the tunnel collapse that followed it."
"How do you know so much about it?"
"My unfortunate brother left me a message. And I found remains. In a way." Patrick sighed, apparently genuinely. "Why don't we sit down? I'll tell you the whole story."
"My brother Norman was always a little strange." Patrick's face was solemn, with a trace of sadness. "I guess that's why we didn't have much contact. We've hardly spoken since he moved here to Silver Hills and started working at Bio-Lab. Haven't seen him for almost three years. Then, about two months ago, I got an urgent call from him. Said he needed help."
For the sake of privacy, Eric, Jimmy, and Patrick Ryder were sitting in an interrogation room. Eric sat stiffly in one of the uncomfortable chairs, staring at Patrick. It bothered him. The resemblance was uncanny, as far as he could tell from his memories of Norman before he had changed himself. Even down to the mannerisms, and the voice. Were twins really that -- identical?
"Naturally I flew out at once. Went to the address he had given me." Patrick stopped, staring at the floor.
"And? What did you find?" Jimmy prompted.
"I found Norman. In a way." He fell silent again for a moment before continuing, his voice soft. "He was already dead. But he had left me a message, on videotape. He told me about the mine explosion and cave-in. He told me about your friend. Jen Scotts." Patrick looked up briefly at both of them.
"Norman triggered that explosion intending to escape with an experimental transporter he had built. I'm not sure how he was able to invent such a thing -- but from what little he told me, he had used a treatment on himself. It made him smarter."
"Norman discovered a treatment that caused mutation. Used it on himself," Eric said. "It did make him smarter. It also changed his appearance."
"Yes, I was quite shocked when I saw him on that tape. The silver hair and purplish skin, and those eyes... Almost like a different person. He seemed to act differently, too. Perhaps the treatment affected his mind, and that's why he did those things..." He leaned forward, fixing them with an intense gaze. "My brother had problems. But he was never violent, or -- or cruel before."
Eric frowned, and asked what was the only important question as far as he was concerned. "He escaped, using a transporter. What happened to Jen? Where is she?"
"I said he intended to escape. The transporter didn't work properly." Patrick sighed heavily, his face unhappy. "It disintegrated the two robots my brother said he built. It brought Norman and your friend to their destination, but -- the transport process damaged them."
"What do you mean, damaged them?" Eric demanded harshly.
"I'm sorry, but Ms. Scotts died almost instantly."
"What? No!" Eric found himself on his feet, glaring.
"I'm truly sorry. I realize when you didn't find bodies in that mine, you hoped she was still alive."
Eric stared at him, trying to control the irrational anger that he knew was only his way of holding back pain. After a moment he looked away, swallowed hard, sat down again and muttered, "Go on. What about Norman?"
"Norman survived for a short time. Long enough to leave that message." His face was shadowed by sadness again. "I suppose he wanted to say goodbye."
Jimmy broke the silence that followed. "If Jen and Norman are dead, where are the bodies?"
"There are none."
"What do you mean?"
"Realizing he was dying, Norman took Jen's body and went back into the transporter. He deliberately set it to disintegrate them, like the robots, and then to self-destruct. Said in his message that he didn't want to leave anything behind. Whether he was trying to prevent another tragedy like his, or just didn't want anyone else duplicating what he thought was a great accomplishment, I don't know."
"But why destroy Jen's body?"
"Again, I don't know. My impression is that Norman wasn't very rational at that point. He probably hadn't been rational for quite some time."
"So, let me see if I understand. You found a videotape with a message from your brother claiming he and Jen are dead. No bodies, no evidence." Eric glared at him, his anger renewed. "In other words, you come in here with this bullshit story, no proof, and expect us to take your word for it!"
Patrick looked at him with a maddening expression of compassion. "The only proof I can offer is what I found. The wreckage of the transporter machine, and..." He blinked and looked down at the table. "There are bloodstains on the floor. They had... injuries from the explosion in the mine. I've left the room almost untouched, you can have them tested for DNA."
"Shit!" Eric was on his feet again, turning away from him, his sympathetic face, his soothing voice, the things he was saying. Jen, dead, when they had hoped... The vision of Wes's face came to him, the way it would look when he was told -- and Eric would have to be the one to tell him, it was his responsibility, couldn't even push it off on Mr. Collins, he had enough to deal with...
Behind him, as he struggled for composure, Jimmy took up the questioning. "It's been two months. Why did you wait so long to come forward? If what you say is true, Jen's fiancé could have been told the truth weeks ago. Could have spared him a lot of wondering."
"Like you, I didn't know what to believe at first. I had samples tested, to make sure it was really human blood I had found. Even then I wasn't sure. I searched for Norman, contacted my family, wondered what to do. I had my own shock and confusion to get through; my brother's death, trying to face the fact that he was a thief, and worse, responsible for a woman's death. I asked our other brother, Scott, to come out and help. Together we decided we had to do the right thing. So here I am."
"Where is this, Mr. Ryder? The location you've been talking about?"
"It's a small farm. Norman bought it some time ago, under a false name. To use it as a hideout, I suppose. Formerly the Fernwood place. Now the Ryder place. We've been living there, while we try to get this whole mess settled."
"We'll be sending a team out there, to look for evidence."
"Absolutely. Search wherever you want."
Eric turned to face him again. "I want to see it too. And Wes -- Wes Collins, my partner. Jen's fiancé. He'll want to go out there."
He got an apparently sincere smile. "Certainly. Whatever I can do to make amends for what my brother did. You and your partner are welcome anytime."
"Don't be too generous, Mr. Ryder," Eric said softly. "I'm still not buying all of this."
"I understand. But you'll see I'm telling the truth. And it's Patrick, remember?"
Jimmy stood with a warning glance at Eric. "Thanks for coming in, Mr. Ryder. Patrick. We'll be seeing you soon."
"You're quite welcome."
Jimmy escorted him out, Eric following behind. Outside the stationhouse, they stood together, watching Patrick descend the steps and get into a parked car.
"You don't believe him, do you?" Jimmy asked.
"Do you?"
"I have an open mind. Stranger things have happened. A lot of them have happened around here." He patted Eric's shoulder. "I know you don't want to believe Jen's dead. Neither do I. But we have to do our jobs, follow the evidence. Figure out what's true, and what isn't."
"I know. Well, thanks for calling me in. See ya." Eric started down the steps, towards his own car, his mind already struggling with the prospect of telling Wes. He winced inwardly at the thought. But it had to be done.
She wandered through the hall, peering into empty rooms, wondering where everyone was. She didn't like it when they disappeared, especially when they went downstairs, and into the secret room. She wasn't allowed in there, the door was always locked. They said there was dangerous equipment in there, she might get hurt. But they never wanted to talk about it. And now, they were both gone. And she wanted company.
"Violet!"
She turned and smiled. "Scott. I was wondering where you were."
"Where I always am. Around." He returned the smile. "Are you bored? What would you like to do?"
With a laugh, she turned to walk toward the large living room, the one with big windows looking out toward the road. He moved beside her. "You know what I'd like."
"To go into town."
"Well, yes. I'd settle for going out for a ride." She faced him eagerly. "Take me for a ride in the car! Just a drive through the country."
He smiled again. "The car's not here right now. My brother went into town."
"I know. But he'll be back. And then..."
"I'm sorry, Violet. Not yet."
She bit back her disappointed response and watched him, seeing his face serious, perhaps even sad. He really was a nice-looking man, she reflected. Average height and build, brown hair and eyes. Nice -- but what other men had she seen, outside of a few pictures? Who could she compare him to? How did she know if he was attractive or not? But somehow, she did know.
"We will be having company."
Startled, Violet gasped, delight and nervousness flowing through her as the impact of what he had said sank in. "People? Other people? But -- who? Why?" She grinned as he turned to face her, hardly noticing his still serious expression. "No, it doesn't matter who it is. I can't wait to meet them!"
"Violet." Her heart sank as he took her hands, his face telling her what he was going to say. "I'm sorry, but you can't meet them. You'll have to stay out of sight."
"What? But why?" She felt tears prickle the backs of her eyes. "I want to see other people -- get out of here..." With a yank, she pulled her hands from his. "I need to! Don't you understand? I can't stand being shut up here anymore! Away from everything! All alone!"
"Violet, please... Don't cry. We're not doing this to hurt you. We only want to protect you." His hands grasped her shoulders, forcing her to look up at his face again. "I'm sorry. We haven't been fair to you. Someday soon, we'll find a way. Maybe leave here, go where no one will..." He stopped abruptly.
"Where no one will what?"
He let go, his face becoming remote. "Nothing. I'm sorry, but you'll have to stay hidden in your room while anyone else is here. It's for your own good."
"My own good." Violet straightened her shoulders, a determination she didn't know she possessed strengthening her. "My good. But you won't tell me why. You never tell me anything important."
Regret touched her at the look of sadness that flickered over his face. But she said nothing. There had been guilt in that fleeting expression, too.
TBC...