My Brother's Keeper (25 page)

“I know you say there’s nothing to be done, but I need a plan. I need some way to make it right.”

Mike pointed. “That right there is why I’ve always liked you, Jon. You care about innocent people. You really want to protect them.”

Rule number six…

Jon’s mouthful of coffee almost came out his nose. He grabbed a napkin from the pile in the center of the table.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” Jon coughed. “Just went down the wrong way.”

Mike arched an eyebrow.

“Will you quit looking at me like that? I choked, that’s all.”

“You know, if we were in an interrogation room right now, I’d think you had something to hide.”

Jon stood so fast his chair almost toppled backwards. “I’m getting some more coffee, you want some?” He plucked Mike’s cup from his hand before he could answer and carried it into the kitchen.

“I have a feeling there’s something you’re not telling me.” Mike propped his arm on the back of his chair. “But that can’t be right. I mean, I came all this way to talk to you. Face to face. To help you.”

“Okay. Fine. I get it. Just…” Jon poured both cups and put cream and sugar in Mike’s. He carried them to the table and sat.

While Mike watched him over the edge of his cup, Jon tried to put together what he wanted to say. When nothing worked, he tossed out the first thing on his mind.

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

“You mean like walking through walls, floating through the air, ghosts?”

“Yes, no.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Damn it. The other night you said something about dead relatives visiting through dreams.”

“There are cultures that believe that.”

“I’ve been seeing things. No wait. Dreaming…” Jon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, I’ve been seeing things awake and asleep.”

Mike’s cup made a hollow sound against the table. He leaned forward. “Like what kind of things?”

Jon rubbed at the pulse beating in his temple. “People. To be exact my brother and, now, Rudy.”

“You mean, like you did after the warehouse incident?”

Those visions had been intense and, on more than one occasion, they’d sent Jon to his knees, turning him into a crying quivering mass unable to move. “No.”

“Then explain.”

Jon told him about seeing Danny in his room, then seeing Rudy in his dreams. “He woke me up. If he hadn’t, Ellis would probably be dead.”

“Our subconscious—”

Jon smacked his fist against the table. “There’s nothing subconscious about this.”

“You probably felt him get out of bed, heard the drawer open where you put the gun. These actions could have fueled the images in the dream.”

“What about Danny?” He held up his hands. “I felt Danny. I felt his clothes.” He pointed to his nose. “I smelled him. I smelled the sweat, hay, and the dirt as if he’d just walked in from working in the barn.”

“The mind is a powerful thing.”

“Twice now he’s saved my life. And in the warehouse, I didn’t just see him, he kept me from getting shot.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know for sure. But I was standing in the center of that room, bodies falling all around me, non-stop gunfire, and the shooters never once aimed at me. It was like they didn’t even see me. As if somehow, Danny kept me hidden from them. That’s the only explanation as to why I’m not dead, like Alex.” Jon had never embraced the idea before, but it was the only one that made sense. Saying it out loud convinced him that’s all it could be.

Mike tipped his head. “You said twice.”

“What?”

“You said he saved your life twice. When was the other time?”

No wonder Mike was so good at his job.

Jon rubbed his eyes with his thumb and fingers. “At an intersection. Long before I ever became a marshal.”

“So you lied in the debriefing when I asked you if you’d ever experienced hallucinations before.”

“Yes.”

“Why would you lie about something like that?”

“Because it was over a decade ago. If I’d said anything they would have put me in jail.”

“I think that’s a bit extreme, don’t you?”

“Not when I knowingly concealed it during my psych evaluation to become a marshal. Especially when over twenty people died.”

“Why did you?”

“Hell, I don’t know. Maybe I hoped it was a one-time thing.” And he’d paid for the mistake, believing he was responsible for his team member’s death. A belief that began to crumble the moment he met Ellis. “He said, ‘One day you’ll understand.’”

“Who”

“My brother. Every time I saw him in the dreams and…you know. That’s what he’d tell me. “‘One day you’ll understand.’ But he didn’t say that in the hotel.”

“What did he say?”

“Now you’ll understand.”

“And you know what that means?”

“Not really. Not yet.” But the answer hummed in the words.

Mike folded his hands on the table. “I really think you should consider going back on the anti-psychotics.”

“I’m fine.” There was no urge to kill himself, no constant guilt, no anger. Like it had been driven away.

“In spite of what you’d like to believe, you can’t beat PTSD with will power. You have to think of it and depression as a disease.”

Like a disease…

I just got in my car and drove. When I reached Gilford I stopped.

Rule number five, Jon. Everything happens for a reason.

“Jon?” Mike reached across the table and gripped Jon’s wrist. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You realize, I should report you.”

If he did, Jon would lose his pension and they’d probably want him to pay back the money he’d gotten when they disabled him out.

“I should.” Mike shook his head. “But I won’t. Under one condition.”

Jon clenched a fist under the table.

“Since you keep canceling on Dr. Kale, I want you to call me once a week for a phone consult. You will go back on the anti-depressants and anti-psychotics. You will take them without fail and if you miss a phone call, I will go to the district office. “

“Yeah,” Jon nodded. “All right.”

Mike stood and picked up his coat from the back of the chair. “My suggestion for Ellis is to put him a hospital for a couple of weeks until they get him stabilized. At this point, I think he’s a danger to himself and others.” Jon started to protest and Mike held up a hand. “Just think about it, okay? For his sake.”

“Thank you for coming out and for everything else.”

“Don’t mention it. And I mean that literally.” Mike put on his coat. “Not turning you in could cost me my license.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Just don’t disappoint me.”

Jon walked him to the door.

“I’m heading home tomorrow. I’ll come back if you need me, even if it’s at three in the morning.” Mike embraced Jon in a quick hug.

“You’re a really good friend, you know that?”

“I’ve been telling you that for the past year.” Mike squeezed Jon’s arm. “And I’m not the only friend you have, Jon. You just need to look around and see that.” On his way to the car, Mike waggled a finger in the air. “Don’t forget. Call me.”

“I will.” Jon stood there long after the taillights disappeared into the darkness. The rain tapping against the trees added static to the silence.

George was right. Things were going to get ugly. And if they did, Jon would not hesitate to kill Lenny if it meant protecting Ellis.

But something deep down told Jon there’d be someone to take Lenny’s place.

That the madness infecting him would spread.

Because evil was a disease.