Her Eyes
Chapter 21: PLAYING NICE
Alex woke up—sweat dripping down his brow. It had been a long night and it would be an even longer day. He got up and walked over to the bathroom, splashing some water on his face before brushing his teeth. He threw on his uniform and moved over to the desk. There were a million thoughts circling his mind and they all led back to Norman Bates. He picked up the stress ball that lay on the desk and began to bounce it. The rhythm soothed him. He needed to talk to Norman—soon. He got up and sauntered to the door, opening it to find Norman sweeping the office doorway. He slid on his leather jacket and made his way down to the office.
Norman went over to the desk and sat down. "Morning. Coffee's fresh."
"Yeah, I was counting on it," the sheriff laughed, moving over to the coffee maker and pouring a cup. He glanced over his shoulder at the boy, trying not to make it obvious he was watching him. He turned back to his cup and stirred the sugar in before glancing at him again.
Norman's gaze met his. "Is there something the matter?"
Alex kicked himself for being caught, turning a bit more. "You're out of cream," he stated, lifting up the evidence.
He smiled politely. "Oh, sorry. I can run up to the house and get some."
The last thing he needed was Norma knowing he was 'talking' to his son. "No, it's fine. I'll drink it black." He left the office quickly—he needed a better plan.
"Bye, Sheriff," the boy called after him. Something was up and Alex would find out what…even if it killed him. When he got in his car, the radio buzzed something about Ford's warehouse. He sighed and sped out of the parking lot, flipping on the siren when he got to the main road.
The warehouse looked like there had been a massacre. He walked around and inspected every corner and crevice. It had Zane Morgan written all over it.
Deputy Lynn approached him. "There's twenty-one fatalities in counting."
He looked over at the corpses, cringing. "You recognize any of these guys?"
"That's Dave Wilson's kid." She pointed to the one lying closest to them—bullet holes covering the flesh. "He was running the shift. All these people were level workers."
Alex sighed looking around the room. "All right I want you to find where Zane Morgan is. Put every resource we got on him." He moved over to the other side of the room; the smell was getting to him. "And when you find him don't arrest him."
"What do you want us to do?" she stated, placing her hands at her hips.
"Tell me where he is," he uttered before moving into the next area. He needed to take care of Zane himself.
Alex stayed at the warehouse till sunset looking for anything Zane might have left behind. He drove back to the motel in search of Dylan. He got out and walked a bit, making sure he wasn't in view of Norma, but the kid's truck wasn't in its usual spot. As he walked back to his SUV and closed the door, a sports car pulled up. He watched as Norma ran out of the office towards the car. The mystery man that was at the station during the Jimmy Brennan incident climbed out and approached her. They talked outside the office for a while. Alex watched them from the rearview mirror of his car. His gut twisted when he saw her smile at him. He needed to be working, but he couldn't leave—not until after he left. Luckily, he did leave. Alex waited as Norma waved goodbye and went back inside the office. He cursed himself for being so affected by this woman—it was affecting his work ethic.
He drove back to the station to find Deputy Lynn waiting for him. She followed him down the hall and into his office. He slipped off his leather jacket in irritation.
"We're sitting on the dry dock, Jodi Morgan's house, and the apartment he's renting…Zane hasn't been near any of them." She waited for him. He glared at her. "So should we—"
"Work harder," he spoke over top of her. "Get information out of people. Don't be nice about it. And don't bother me or makes excuses until you find him, you got all that?" he spat. He was still irritated over the sight he had just received at the motel. He took a seat at his desk, hoping he scared her enough for her to leave.
She stared back at him bit aghast at his aggression. "Yes, Sir." She left swiftly, making him feel more at ease.
After about an hour of paperwork, he decided to search the streets for Zane himself. And that's when he spotted Dylan's truck. He was so fed up with everything that he nearly rammed him down. He flipped on the siren and decided he'd pull him over for a little talk. He waited as the truck pulled to the side of the road and shut off before getting out and approaching the vehicle, flashlight in hand. He shined it on the kid's face. "Get out," he growled.
Dylan squinted under the light. "Look I thought—"
"Get out," he shouted. He watched as he got out and slammed the door shut. "Where the hell is Zane Morgan?"
Dylan looked back at him confused. "I don't know, I don't know where he is," he mumbled. The sheriff nodded at him then shoved him roughly against the truck, pressing his face into the glass. "Look I'd tell you if I knew. You think I want any of this to happen." He struggled under his grasp.
"You hear anything you need to tell me. If I find out you're lying you're gonna be dead, you understand?" he threatened. With no response, he shoved him harder in the car. "You understand?"
"Yeah. Okay," the kid huffed.
He threw him toward the door. "Go on get outta here." He waited for him to get in the truck and drive off before returning to the SUV. Now it was time to deal with Norma's other son.
He got to his room and looked around for something to break. His eyes moved to the bathroom. He went straight to the shower, undoing the buttons of his sheriff's uniform and revealing his black undershirt. He secured both feet on the ground and placed his hands tight around the rod. He pulled down as hard as he could, jumping up a few times to loosen it before finally yanking it out. Leaving the rod lying in the shower, he left the room, soon climbing the steps to the house and knocking on the door. He was surprised when Norma opened the door. "Oh, hey," he smiled. He laughed, pretending to be embarrassed. "The rod that holds up the shower curtain just broke out of the wall."
She leaned against the doorframe, taking in his ragged appearance. "Oh dear," she laughed.
He gave his cutest smile. "Well maybe Norman can hold it up for me while I fix it."
Her eyes warmed as she smiled. "Okay," she whispered before turning to get the boy.
Soon Norman came out. "I'll get the tools from the office," he told the sheriff when they reached the bottom step. He watched as the boy went into the office and walked over to his room to wait for him. When he returned they headed into the bathroom. "I really appreciate you coming down to help me with this," he stated glancing at the boy as he pulled the rod out of the tub and held it in place.
Norman grabbed it from him, handing him the screwdriver. They stood in silence for a few minutes. The only sound filling the room was the sound of Alex hard at work. He could feel the uneasiness in the air as the boy began to speak. "How did you—how did you break the curtain rod, Sheriff?"
He laughed—he loved making up stories. "One of those rings was stuck in here and I jiggled it a little too hard. I almost done here," he stated, intentionally dropping a screw. "Oops."
"I got it," the boy replied, bending to pick it up. He handed it back to him.
"Thanks." He took the screw and resituated his hands on the rod. This was his opportunity. "Hey, how—how well did you know Blair Watson?"
The boy thought for a moment. "Well she was my teacher so…"
Romero kept his eyes trained on the work in front of him. "Well yeah, but did you know anything else about her?"
"No, not really." He was making the boy uncomfortable.
He didn't want to press him but— "She seem stable to you." He needed to know.
"Mostly yes," he answered truthfully.
The sheriff stopped what he was doing and glanced down at him. "Mostly?"
Norman laughed awkwardly. "Well uh nah, I didn't mean that. She was very professional. A good teacher…a good counselor."
"But why mostly," Alex pressed.
The boy's eyes met the floor. "She just—she seemed a little sad and lost at sometimes." He looked back up at him.
He was getting what he wanted. "You ever see her outside of school?"
"No," he answered with a laugh.
Alex smiled, knowing he had him right where he wanted him. "You told me before that you did."
"But for school projects," he covered up.
He stared at the boy for a moment before stepping down and placing the screwdriver on the sink. "Look there's no way to put this delicately. She slept with a lot of people, Norman," he stated softly. He wanted him to feel comfortable around him. "A lot of those people were not nice."
"Why are you telling me?" He shot him a look.
He took the look as a hint to back off but he pressed on. "Because I'm wondering…did you ever sleep with her?"
"No, I—I never slept with her," he denied, laughing nervously.
"Norman, you can tell me." He wanted him to feel safe, but he cared more about getting the information from him. "In fact you have to tell me."
"No, I didn't do anything," he snapped. "She was a nice person. She was just looking after me, that's all." He ripped the screwdriver off the counter and began to pack up the toolbox.
Alex wasn't shocked by his reaction, but he needed to help him—to help himself. "You're not doing yourself any good here."
"Why are you asking me this," the boy screamed, storming out of the motel room.
"Norman," he called after him. He followed him out onto the motel porch. "Norman! This isn't just gonna go away. Norman!" He watched as he grew closer to the office.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" And then he disappeared inside.
Alex retreated into his room and grabbed the bottle of scotch, pouring his usual glass. He slid off his clothes and jumped in the shower, hoping to wash the events of the night away.