Her Eyes

Chapter 30: VUNERABILITY

The next morning Alex headed over to the Bates Motel in search of whatever Bob was missing. He stepped in the office to find Emma behind the desk. "Oh hey, Emma. Can I have the key to the room Annika was staying in?" He walked up to the desk, placing both hands on the edge of it.

"Of course, Sheriff." She turned and reached up, grabbing the key to room 4. "Here you go." She smiled handing him the key.

"Thanks." He left the office and shuffled down to room 4, unlocking the door and entering it. He left the door wide-open absentmindedly. The room was a bit of a mess, but he didn't mind—he was planning on making a mess anyway. He searched through the drawers of the dresser and the nightstand. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for. The sight of her duffel bag caught his eye. As he searched through it, he began to hear footsteps near the door.

"Alex," Norma called out to him. He looked over his shoulder at her. He still wasn't sure what to say to her after what happened the night before. She stood in the doorway peering at her. "What are you doing?"

He couldn't tell if she was mad at him or not—he could never tell with her. "You're not gonna make me go get a warrant, are you?" He turned back to the bag to continue rifling through it.

"No, but I'd like to know what you're looking for." The way she said it made it sound like she knew what he should be looking for.

He grabbed a set of keys and threw it on the bed. "I'm looking for answers."

"Well have at it." She was hiding something from him.

He watched as she turned and left before chasing after her. "Norma." She stopped dead and faced him as he approached her. "Did Annika Johnson have anything on her when she died?" He looked into her eyes, trying desperately to read her.

"Clothes," she stated plainly.

He hated when she was like this. "Don't be a smartass."

"I'm not being a smartass. I don't know what you're talking about." She was good—he never really could read her.

He tried to ignore the way she was making him feel inside. He came here for answers—he was getting answers. "Did she seem like she was trying to get to her room to get something?"

She looked around a bit before answering. "Maybe." He didn't believe her. He gave her a look. It made her nervous. "I don't know. It's hard to tell you. She was weaving and then she fell into me. I think she was headed for her room." He stared at her for a moment, but she wasn't having any of it. "Well I'm gonna go make dinner." She turned to leave quickly. She was avoiding something.

"Norma!" He needed her.

"What?" the annoyance in her voice was apparent. She was such a child.

He had had it with her behavior towards him. One minute they were friends…the next minute they weren't. "Why are you lying to me?"

She wouldn't break. "I'm not. Why are you lying to me?"

He shot her a confused look. "About what?"

"About what you're doing here?" She'd say anything to distract him, but a part of him thought maybe she knew…maybe she knew that part of the reason he was really there was to see her.

He hesitated for a moment. She made him uneasy. "I'm not lying—I'm not revealing the whole truth. That's my job. To decide what and when to tell who."

She stood before him unbreakable. She wasn't as vulnerable as he was. "Well you're very good at it." There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, but she kept strong. "Gold star, Sheriff." His eyes glued themselves to her as she sauntered off. He hated that somehow by some force…he got attached. He was attached to her, and she used that to her advantage. He went back into the room, back to the duffel bag, and searched through it until he came across a slip of paper with a name and phone number on it. He took out his phone and dialed the number.

"Hello?" it was a woman's voice.

"Portia?" he asked, glancing down at the paper.

"This is she," the woman laughed awkwardly.

He paused—he had to think of what to say to her. "It's, uh, Sheriff Romero. Do you know Annika Johnson and Lindsey Davis?"

"Yes." There was a flirtatiousness to her voice. "Did you want something, Sheriff?"

"We should talk. Do you wanna meet me for lunch at Vianne's restaurant? It's just off of Becker Street," he mumbled, locking the door to the room.

"Sure. I'll see you there." The woman hung up.

Alex placed his phone back in his pocket as he strolled back into the office to return the key. "Tell Norma I said thanks," he told Emma before walking out. He got in his SUV and drove over to the restaurant. She was already there when he got there. He knew it must be her because she was alone and she smiled at him the second he walked through the door.

"How can I help you, Sheriff?" she asked as he took a seat.

"I just wanted to ask you a few questions." He had to admit she was a beautiful woman. He eyed her for a moment as the waitress came pouring him a cup of coffee. "Thanks," he told her, watching her leave. He turned back to Portia; her smile hadn't faded. "You're an escort?" He wasn't quite sure how to ask. She nodded shyly. "So you were friends with Lindsey and Annika?"

She leaned in closer to him, placing both elbows on the table. "Yeah, I mean not best friends, but I've seen them the last few years at those parties?"

"At the Arcanum Club? So you know Bob Paris?" He watched as she nodded again. He gave her a serious look. "You do know that Annika and Lindsey are dead? They were both murdered." Her smile broke. He leaned in closer to her. "Did you have any contact with either of them since you saw them last year?"

She sighed slightly. "Lindsey was seeing Bob Paris. He started flying her up every weekend. She was making a lot of money. And one time she asked me if I would have a three-way with them." He drew his gaze to the window. He didn't like talking about those sorts of things with random women. She kept her eyes on him—he could feel them. "But I couldn't it was my sister's birthday that weekend."

He returned his gaze to her. "Do you have any reason to believe that Bob Paris would want her dead? Maybe she knew too much?"

"I honestly doubt that guy gives a damn who knows what about his sex habits," she huffed. "But I think Lindsey started to get a taste of a lifestyle she couldn't afford. She started resenting him. Maybe she had feelings for him that weren't reciprocated."

He took a sip of his coffee and hugged the mug with his palms. "Just out of curiosity, do you know who took your place in that three-way?"

She thought for a moment. "I'm pretty sure she said Annika Johnson stepped in." That was all the information he needed to hear. She smiled at him. Her leg brushed his.

"Well all right. I'm done here," he stated, getting up from the table.

She looked at him with sad eyes. "You're not gonna join me for lunch?"

He opened up his wallet and put a couple of bucks down for the coffee. "Nah, I ate earlier." He left the restaurant and drove back to the station. He had a lot of paperwork to do.

The next morning he drove out to the marsh where Lindsey Davis was discovered. When he got out of the SUV, he spotted Stanley, the town's fisherman, clamming in the water. Alex slipped on his boots and trudged into the water after him.

"What brings you out here, Sheriff?" the man said, looking up from the water.

Alex looked off into the foggy distance. "I'm not clamming, Stanley. You know the tides. That girl they found…where do you think she might have been thrown in to end up here?"

He followed the sheriff's gaze. "This time of the year it could be anywhere within a mile or so."

He looked at him. "You didn't see anything unusual, did you?" He sighed, as the man went back to clamming. He took the hint. "Okay, good talk there, Stanley."

He turned to leave when the man's voice caught him. "Five days ago, I came across the Buffon kid out here. He said he was bird watching…he didn't have a camera or binoculars. And it was raining." The man looked at the sheriff sadly. "I didn't think much about it till the next day when I read in the paper about the girl."

"You're talking about Clay Buffon?" he asked in disbelief. The man nodded, making him sigh. "Well why didn't you say anything to anyone about this?"

"Nobody asked." He gave him a small shrug and went back to work.

Alex stared at him for a moment. "Thanks, Stanley." He turned and trudged back to his car.

Later on in the day, Alex called Bob's office who told him he was at lunch with Marcus Young. So he decided to play them a visit. The restaurant was fancy, but fussy. The host had a problem with letting him in without a reservation. "I'm just need to talk to someone," he shouted. The whole restaurant was looking at him. The manager was coming over to them. "Get out of my way." He pushed passed the host and tromped over to their table.

Bob looked up at him in surprise. "What's the drama with you?" Alex rolled his eyes. Bob knew how short-tempered he was—he always used it against him. "If you wanna join us, sure. Have you met Marcus Young, Alex. He's the one running against you." He plastered on his usual smile.

Alex glared at him. "Yeah, we met. Now he can leave."

Marcus stood up and brought his face close to the sheriff's. "How about a smile, Sheriff? Relax. You're always so tense, man. It's not good for your heart…or your head."

Alex waited for him to leave before taking the seat next to Bob. "So you had Clay Buffon cover the body for you?"

"Big accusation, Alex. You want some dessert?" He pointed down to the pie, which Alex picked up and moved to the other side of the table. "Would you calm the hell down? I'm surprised you haven't had a stroke yet."

His fist clenched. He hated him. He wanted him to disappear. "Why was Lindsey Davis blackmailing you, Bob? Whatever she had on you she passed to Annika. And now they're both dead and it's disappeared. So what's gone missing, Bob? What are we looking for?"

Bob stared back at him plainly. "Flash drive."

Alex shot him a confused look. He was ridiculous. "What the hell's on it?"

"Confidential information." He sat back in his chair, pleased with himself.

"Worth the lives of two women?" He was unbelievable. Alex could have killed him right there.

"You're asking me. You've killed people for the good of this town," he mocked. He knew exactly how to hurt him. A pain formed in Alex's heart. He was the sheriff. He killed those people for a reason—to protect the town. He was not a bad person for it. Bob leaned in closer to him. "I'm talking to you as a person now, Alex…as somebody I grew up with, played ball with, felt sorry for because their home life was so crappy." Alex fought back an eye roll. Bob was never his friend. "You are in a deep hole. You wanna do what's in the best interest of this town…find the damn flash drive and quit making this about everything else." He sighed unsympathetically. "I didn't particularly wanna bring Marcus Young out here to take your job. You left me with no choice."

Alex ground his teeth. "You know what, Bob. I feel the exact same way and you're forcing me into a corner. There's not gonna be room in that corner for the both of us."

"The only way I see outta this is for you to go to Norma Bates and get back the flash drive." The sound of her name leaving Bob's mouth pained him. Bob smiled smugly. "You know her, right?" Alex rolled his eyes and got up from the table, leaving the restaurant.

After work, Alex drove to Clay Buffon's house to question him. When he pulled up, he spotted someone waited outside in a car. Alex climbed out of the SUV warily. "Clay, get out of the car," he shouted, approaching the vehicle. He had a bad feeling in his gut. "I just wanna talk about Lindsey Davis, come on get out of the car." He jumped in front of the window, pointing his gun at the dead body. He cringed at the realization and went back to his SUV to call for backup.

After that was over he drove home and poured himself a glass of scotch. He was sitting listening to the fire crackle when he heard a car pulled up. He set the glass down and went over to the window, lifting up the blinds to see who it was. It was Norma. He sighed as he heard her light knock and opened the door.

They stood there for a moment, staring at each other. "Can I trust you?" her voice broke the silence. He rolled his eyes. "I mean like really trust you. Sometimes you're Alex…sometimes you're a cop."

That was how she really felt about him? It hurt him a little. "I don't know, Norma. I think you can. I'll do my best."

"Okay," she whispered. Her eyes met his. "I have it."

He didn't quite understand at first, but soon he realized what she meant. "Get in here." He pulled her inside and locked the door behind her. "Give it to me." He walked over to her and stood in front of her.

"It's not on me," she muttered. "I'm not gonna walk around with it in my pocket. I'm not stupid." She looked into his eyes, connecting with him. "It's a business ledger, returns on some kind of investment…fifteen millions dollars. All the names on it are big influential people in this town…including Bob Paris." She was confident.

Alex didn't want her getting involved with him. He needed to protect her—even if she didn't want his protection. "Okay, you need to give it to me right away." He moved over to the chair and grabbed his coat.

"No, no, no. That's not why I'm here." The pain began to form inside him. What could she possibly want? "This is the first time since I've moved to this crummy town that I have anyone by the short hairs. I'm getting something out of it." He admired her courage.

But he still thought she was crazy. "Have you lost your mind?"

She looked at him straight in the eye. "I want you to take me to see Bob Paris. I'm gonna tell him I have it and I'm gonna ask for some favors in return." She was crazy—either that or she was just stupid. This was why shit happens to her. He was annoyed with he; it played out on his face. "Why are you looking at me like that? I've had a good education in this crappy town and I am ready to play ball with the big boys."

He needed to slap some sense into her. She had no idea what she was getting herself into. "They'll kill you."

"They can't I have the flash drive. I'm the only one who knows where it is." She was acting as if knowledge was a good thing. He gave her a scolding look. "The dead girl gave it to me," she huffed.

He needed to make her understand. "Think of what the people in this town have done to you. They—"

"You don't think I know what they've done to me. No one knows better than me," she shouted over top of him. It scared him a little. "They raped me." He felt a knife through his heart as the tears welled up in her eyes. "They put a dead man's body in my bed. They kidnapped my child and put him in a box in the ground. What else are they gonna do to me? Kill me?" Her eyes were exploding. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he didn't want to offend her. "I'm not going down without a fight and no one's gonna stop me. Now you, not Bob Paris, not all the scumbag criminals in White Pine Bay." Her shouting rang through the house. It was the only sounds the house had ever heard since it had been built. "If I was a man, one of these douchebags who lives here…you would say this is totally doable. You're just saying it's a bad idea—you think I can't handle it because I'm a woman…because I'm a mother." Her words hurt him. They were partly true. The other part was that he couldn't live with himself if something happened to her. She was his reason to live—his reason to go on. He needed her. "I can. I have seen how it's done. I will handle it without you, if I have to."

He was so lost in her that he let her walk away. It was only the beating she was making against the door that brought him out of it. He watched as she helplessly tried to unlock the door, kicking and screaming at it. He stomped up to her and ripped her from the door, pulling her in his arms. He felt her breathing on his neck as she sobbed. He gave up. She was the most important thing in his life. "I'll go with you." He knew he would regret it later.

"You will?" She looked at him, a bit lost.

He sighed. "Yeah. I said I'll go…I'll go." He unwrapped his arms from her, realizing he had gotten too close. "We'll go tomorrow. Go home, Norma." She looked at him almost sadly as she left. He knew she was happy he agreed, but a part of her wanted something else. He relaxed when he saw her drive off. He needed to get some sleep—he had a long day ahead of him.