A/N: This is a very short chapter.
Epilogue: No Alarms and No Surprises
Two Years Later
~"A heart that's full up like a landfill
A job that slowly kills you
Bruises that won't heal—"~
He opened the French doors off the office and whistled for Hank. Being only a few years old and still very much a pup, Hank was always eager and ready to go for a walk. Edmond, who was older and starting to get a lot of grey in his coat, was in the bedroom with Sara; they both liked to sleep in every Sunday morning and so he let them. On the walls of the office were certificates and diplomas for Harold Melville. He'd used his own and had been able to easily replace his real name with the alias. Books filled the bookshelves and a record player sat against the wall near the fireplace. On the mantle above the fireplace were photographs of him and Sara he'd taken over the past two years together.
Behind the house, there was a dirt trail that was now covered with a dusting of snow that led through the woods. It was a good five-minute walk to a cabin. Beyond the cabin, a hundred yards away, was the Potomac River that fed into the bay of the Atlantic.
~"You look so tired, unhappy
Bring down the government
They don't, they don't speak for us—"~
Between the back of the cabin and the river was a dirt road which led to a gravel road that went out onto the main road. There was a gate at the end of the road, stating that the gravel road and the property was "Private Property" and "No Trespassing ". He'd installed security cameras on the trees and motion sensors all around the perimeter of the property, fence and gate. No one in or out unless they had the code to the gate to gain access. There was only one other person besides himself with the code and that was Sara.
~"I'll take a quiet life
A handshake of carbon monoxide—"~
He walked through the American Holly's, the white and red cedar trees, and under the hickory's. As he neared the cabin, he spotted the magnolias and the wild lupine plants. There was an old abandoned VW van through the trees. It was rusted out and had no tires on it. The previous owner had used the tires for planters. There was vegetation growing around the van as he walked by over to the steps that went up to the front porch. He unlocked the door and went inside as Hank stayed outside.
The cabin had an open concept, a main room with fireplace and couch and chair, a kitchen with a mini-fridge and hot plate on the counter, a bathroom and single bedroom off the bathroom. The second floor was an open loft and it held all his work tables full of sketches, photos, canvases, racks full of paint bottles, powders, oils, and drawers of art paper, and a darkroom.
~"And no alarms and no surprises—"~
He made a fire in the fireplace and then started the coffee maker before heading out the back door and down the steps. Next to the back steps was a cellar door in the ground. Pulling open the door to reveal stairs going underground into a wine cellar, he started down the steps and turned on the lights. There weren't bottles of wine in the cellar, but his insects. Tables and shelves filled with ant farms, butterfly and moth terrariums, cockroaches, and spiders with plenty of room for him to expand the collection.
~"No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises—"~
Hearing Hank coming down the steps, he smiled over at the dog as he sniffed around the door and whined. "No, lass es, Hank. Hier," he commanded. Hank left the door and walked over to him. "Braver hund."
Petting the dog, he finished feeding his insects.
~"Silent
Silent—"~
Once back up the steps and inside the cabin, he poured a cup of coffee and turned on the television. The small TV mounted on the corner wall showed four split screens of the cameras he had mounted around the property. Going up to the loft, he sat down at the table, grabbed a sheet of art paper and a charcoal block and then started drawing.
His black-and-white photography, sketches, and paintings were being presented at an art gallery in Virginia under his alias of Ansel Archer. However, he wouldn't be making an appearance. Archer was by all pretenses a recluse who never attended any of his galleries, but he had many admirers. His art, his pictures, sold for a lot of money.
~"This is my final fit
My final bellyache
With no alarms and no surprises—"~
His other job, under his alias of Harold Melville, was a small town coroner. The town was so small it had one of everything. One post office, bank, police station, and coroner's office. He mostly dealt with natural cause deaths and the occasional accident. The town's veterinarian was Sara.
~"No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises, please—"~
After a few hours of drawing and painting, he closed up the cabin and walked back toward the house. Sara should be up by now. It was a Sunday and unless they got a phone call, they both had the day off. The pet clinic and the coroner's office were always closed on the weekends, but they were on-call both days in case of emergencies.
The same scheduled days off was refreshing after years of never knowing when he'd have a day off; and working doubles and triples. He had plenty of time to indulge in his other hobbies and activities. As for Sara, she seemed happier, more confident, in control of herself, and understanding than she'd ever been before.
~"Such a pretty house
And such a pretty garden—"~
Passing the garden, he admired all the various plants, herbs, and the autumn vegetables that were ripe for harvesting as he walked up the steps of the back deck and then into the kitchen. He smelt the food, a vegetarian breakfast casserole, and felt his stomach ache in hunger. Before he could grab a plate though, he heard the news report from the other room.
~"No alarms and no surprises (get me out of here)—"~
Stilling at the words, he frowned in confusion because he knew that there was no way they could have been talking about him. Forgetting about the food, he walked into the living room and spotted Sara watching the television with a cup of coffee in her hand.
There was a serial killer on the loose in Virginia who was killing criminals. And the killer was leaving the bodies to be found.
~"No alarms and no surprises (get me out of here)—"~
"That's right in our backyard. Well, across the river, but..." Sara looked back at him and he saw her concern as he shook his head slightly. "Copycat?" she asked in confusion.
It was possible that there was a copycat killer who took what they had read about him and used him as an inspiration. His mouth went dry as he stared at the TV screen as the words "Breaking News: Serial Killer on the loose in Virginia" appeared on screen.
Then he saw her. He watched as the news camera focused on the crime scene as a reporter kept talking, but all he could see was the blond woman with her hair up in a ponytail with an FBI windbreaker wrapped around her body.
Sara's eyes followed his eyes back to the TV and when she looked, her mouth dropped open. "Catherine's working for the FBI now?"
In his mind, he could already see the tangling web of his life breaking apart, one string at a time. He couldn't let that happen.
He just couldn't.
~"No alarms and no surprises, please."~
THE END.
Disclaimer song used: "No Surprises" by Radiohead.
I only had the two-part story planned, but I did leave it open for a possible third and final story with the epilogue. Right now, I have only an idea for it but nothing outlined or developed, but if I figure it all out I will write it. Until then, THANK YOU! I really appreciate all the reviews and to everyone who took the time to read my story.
I do have the playlist on Amazon music and Spotify under the name Aberrations for most of the songs mentioned in these stories. Since I use mostly Amazon, I don't think I kept up with the Spotify playlist, but I'll be sure to add all the songs to it when I can.