Her Eyes

Chapter 9: WOUNDED

It had been a couple of days since he'd heard from Norma, and just when he began to worry about her—there she was.

Walking down the hall back to his office, Alex heard a banging noise coming from the front room. He opened the door to find that it was Norma behind the bulletproof glass.

"What is your name please," Regina asked her.

"Are you kidding me? You don't know my name," Norma replied, leaning down and speaking through the bottom opening of the glass.

"Norma Louise Bates," Alex answered from the back of the room.

"We need to talk," she shouted at him. He hated the way she spoke to him in front of his colleagues…it made him feel so whipped.

Regina opened the door for her and Alex led her back to his office. "What's this about?" Alex asked motioning for her to have a seat.

"Jake Abernathy ambushed me in my car last night, put a gun to my neck. He told me to shown up with one hundred and fifty thousand dollars by tonight at the docks," she cried, taking a seat.

"And what did you say?" This woman wasn't stupid enough to—

"I said yes, I would bring him the money," she replied in agitation. Alex sighed, clearly annoyed with her. "He had a gun to my neck. I don't know anything about the money."

He stared at her a while before answering. "All right. I'll take care of it." He had to protect her.

Even if she didn't think he would. "So what I'm just supposed to accept that you'll 'take care of it'. Whatever that means," she mocked. She rolled her eyes at him—an overplaying of her annoyance.

"Yes. That's right. You need to trust me," he urged. All he wanted from her was trust. That's all he would ever ask of her.

"Trust you? That is hard to do. I'm the one who's supposed to show up with the money tonight or he's gonna kill my sons and me. Pardon me for being a little concerned about what your plan is," she argued, her voice a bit gentler than before.

He needed to protect this woman. He vowed to the moment he heard her confession—that she had killed Keith Summers. He wouldn't let another scumbag like that lay a hand on her. "No harm is going to come to you or your sons. You have my word."

"That's comforting," she stated sarcastically before leaving. Alex watched her leave. He wished he could lock her up in his office, just until he took take of things, to ensure no harm came to her.

After waiting for her to fully leave the station, he got in his car and drove to Shelby's old storage unit. He knew exactly where to look for what he needed. He lifted the garage door and stepped in closing the door behind him. There was an old chest that sat against the wall. He swiftly lifted the lid and dug through. A cloud of dust puffed into the air. He grabbed the duffel bag and unzipped it—one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. After zipping it back up and closing the lid to the chest, he left the unit checking to make sure no one witnessed his little trip.

The next stop was Maggie Summers' house. He parked in the bushes and got out. Memories of their childhood flooded his thoughts, but he shook them off as quick as they had appeared. This wasn't a social visit, he reminded himself. It took a while for her to return home, but when she did, she wasn't too happy to see him.

She pulled in her driveway and climbed out of the car, attempting to hide the cuts on her face as he approached her. "Alex. Haven't seen you since my brother's service." She waited for him to say something—he was too busy studying her face. "Bit weird nothing to bury but a hand. What the hell brings you—"

"What happened to your face?" he urged, already concluding what occurred.

She cowered away from him, he hated when women did that. "I don't remember."

He could sense she was uncomfortable, but he needed information. "We're getting off on the wrong track here. It's not a social visit, Maggie. I know you did the bookkeeping for your brother and Shelby's little business. In fact I've got all your paperwork. It's nice and neat," he tried to threaten her. "So did Jake Abernathy do this to you?"

She tried to regain her strength. "I don't know who that is? Now—"

"I'm referring to your brother and Shelby's third partner," he interrupted. He hated to push her, but he had to…for Norma.

"You mean Joe Fieretti. He drives a black Cadillac. About fifty. Blondish hair." She cringed when describing him.

"Yeah. That's the guy." Alex pretended like he knew.

"A few days ago, he came looking for some money that Shelby owed him. I told him I didn't have it and he said he was gonna kill me. Then I guess he finally believed me." She swallowed hard at remembering.

He didn't like to see her hurt. He didn't want to force her to remember what happened to her, but he needed information. "How did you contact Fieretti?" he asked.

"He always contacted us when a shipment came in," she stated.

"Do you know where to reach him? Any idea where he is now? Anything," he strained.

"Keith told me he was running the same type of thing in four different ports up and down the coast," she told him, finally making eye contact.

"All right," Alex mumbled, turning away and walking back to his car.

"What happens now…to me?" she asked sadly.

Alex stopped and walked back to her. He remembered how defenseless she was as a child—how her brother bullied her. She had no one to protect her, but she wasn't Norma…she was stable enough to survive alone. "Nothing if you keep your mouth shut." It came out more as a threat than he wanted it to. "I have your back. Take care yourself, Maggie." He turned and walked back to his car. He gave her a reassuring smile before leaving completely. It wasn't his job to protect her—he was already the guardian of one very nutty lady.

It was dark when he pulled up to the docks. He grabbed the duffel bag from the backseat and walked wearily down the boardwalk.

And there she was…hiding behind some old fishing cages and crates. He laughed at how sneaky she thought she was. He dropped the duffel to the floor and waited as a car pulled up.

"Who are you?" a man asked, shutting the car door.

"Well I'm Alex Romero. What do I call you? Abernathy? Fieretti?" he asked, watching the man approach him. He was just as Maggie had described him.

"I go by a lot of different names. Why don't you call me…Joe," he smiled. "What happened to the cute but nutty lady who runs the motel?"

Alex laughed at this on the inside, knowing Norma was watching, but he still didn't like this man mentioning her. "She's no longer involved," he said sternly.

Joe smiled at this. "You kill her?"

Alex hated the pleased look on the man's face, he would have knocked him out right there, but he needed to get Norma out of this. "Let's just say it's handled," he replied.

Joe's gaze dropped to the duffel. "Is that for me?"

"I thought we could talk first…come to an understanding," Alex told him. "If you're gonna run a business in my town. I should know about it. If you want to keep your business going…you go through me. I'm making you a deal fifty/fifty." He knew that Norma was probably beginning to lose trust in him, but he needed to play this up.

"That's what Keith and Shelby got combined," Joe laughed.

"That's because they were idiots. Going forward you're paying me for certainty, I make all the decisions about who else in this town is involved. I put my cell number on a card in the bag," Alex stated. He didn't really want Norma to witness this, but he had no choice—he needed her safe. He threw the bag over to Joe, waited for him to pick it up, and pulled out his gun. They made eye contact before he shot Joe. He shot him four times before watching him fall off the dock and into the water. He placed his gun in the back of his pants and picked up the bag, chucking it off into the water. "Not in my town, you piece of shit." He watched the duffel disappear in the blackness. "You can go home now, Norma," he announced, walking back to his car.

He heard her shuffling behind him. "I almost shot you!" she screamed.

He continued walking without looking back. "When I say trust me, trust me." He didn't turn around at all, though he wanted to. He wanted to tell her that he was there to protect her, but he didn't want her to see the look on his face—the look that screams 'I'm a murderer'. Sure, he's killed before and he'll kill again, but he always hated himself afterwards, and he didn't want her to see him like that. He drove home and lay down in bed. The only thing that could take his mind off his actions was Norma. He did it for her—though he'd never admit it. He hoped she felt safe, that she was sleeping a bit sounder than before…even if he wasn't.