In Our Darkness - 22. Chapter 22: Homicide

Thirty-six push-ups and he was completely out of breath. Jack winced as he flopped on his back and cursed Father Time. He didn’t care about getting old, but he wished he could have kept his stamina and strength until his last breath, that way he could at least stay productive for society and not be a burden. That way he wouldn’t end up just some useless invisible old man who needed help with the door. The thought was horrific.

Retirement was not friendly to Jack Miller. While some people might look forward to resting, traveling the world, or spending time with their grandchildren, Jack wasn’t interested in any of that. He missed work every single day. He missed the feeling of doing something important, of helping others, and in a way of protecting his city. If he was honest with himself, being a detective was partly an ego trip.

So letting go of all that came with his work was not an easy task. But this was life now, and he has to adjust. He made it more bearable by making himself constantly available to old colleagues if they needed a pair of fresh eyes to look at a case or someone to bounce ideas off of. He didn’t know how to be retired, work was all he had ever known, all he had ever looked forward to and loved doing. Without it he felt lost, useless. Like he was aimlessly drifting.

But no matter how occupied he tried to keep himself, he still has extra time on his hands. For a long time, Jack had a love and hate relationship with AA. Some days, he felt like he could handle a couple beers. Other days, once he started, he couldn’t stop. But he would continue going to meetings, continue trying. Now that he had all the time in the world, he began going more consistently. He usually went out of his way and out of the city, as too many people at the local meetings were individuals he’d dealt with during his work. It’d be hard to open up in front of people he'd previously arrested. But David had been asking him to join for a while, and he was starting to consider it.

Got up from the floor when he heard a knock on the door. He opened it and welcomed his weekly visitor with a simple nod.

“How are you?”

“I’ll be better after I have this root beer,” David replied, popping open the soda can.

“What’s the point of going to meetings if you’re going to keep drinking something that has the word beer in its name?” Jack teased.

“Well, if I don’t go I might end up as angry as you,” David joked and Jack laughed. He grabbed a can of root beer from his friend and the two men went out to sit on Jack’s porch.

“How’s retirement?”

“It’s shit,” Jack replied and now it was David’s turn to laugh. “Don’t ever do it. Work until you die. Unless you’re one of those weird men that enjoy cruises and buffet breakfasts. In which case by all means retire and go live in Florida, enjoy the rest of your time doing nothing and being no one.”

“This is why I come here. For my weekly dose of positivity,” David said, taking a swig of his soda. “You know, when I was trapped in the car, right after the accident happened, I had a strange vision,” he suddenly confessed.

“Oh yeah?”

“I felt really tired, and I wanted to just sit there and wait for help. But then I saw this small boy. And he smiled at me and called me ‘papa’ and I knew he was talking to me. And I knew I had to move. Do you think that was just my brain manifesting something because of the trauma?”

“Maybe. Maybe it was God. Funny, my grandson used to call me papa,” Jack reminisced.

“I didn’t know you have a grandson,” David replied, taking another swig. How did he know Jack for so many years now without knowing this about him?

“He’s not really mine, he’s my son’s girlfriend’s kid. They don’t let me see him anymore. Really smart boy.”

Jack remembered the small boy with the inquisitive eyes. He was aware that his son’s girlfriend’s child was not being properly taken care of. He knew that Paul and the child’s mother were drinking and he was aware that Paul was also doing drugs. But he never saw the kid in a terrible state, he seemed clean, didn’t have bruises, so even when Jack tried to intervene and call social services, he didn’t have a leg to stand on. There was never enough evidence to take Andy away. And he was not biologically Paul’s, so Jack turned a blind eye, he figured the mother would eventually leave Paul and sober up. Get her shit together. And then work and life kicked in again and he forgot all about Andy. He let him slip through the cracks of his memory.

Even if he would have seen Andy around in the meetings, he wouldn’t have known that Andy was the little boy who called him papa. The last time he saw the child, he was four, and it was when his wife made him cut Paul completely out of their lives.

It was only when he heard Andy share, when he heard Paul’s name, when he heard the horror of it all, that his old heart tore in half for the boy he had left behind.

He sat frozen, his eyes misting over. He felt total and complete disbelief. For the last 13 years he had been searching for his own son, the killer. Jack was responsible for all of this, he raised this monster, after all. He might as well have killed the Andrews’ kid himself.

The shame overwhelmed him. How could he have let this happen under his own nose. What type of counterfeit detective was he? All his years at work, all his years at bad parenting, and now he was reaping the results.

Not only that, but he had left an innocent child to be abused at the hands of two assholes. What kind of man did that? Jack stifled in his emotions. This wasn’t the time for a pity party. This was time for action.

He left the meeting, if Andy was good on his word and he was going to the Police station then Jack didn’t have much time to do the right thing now. He got in his car and drove to Paul’s old place. He would finally get to the bottom of the truth.

He pulled up to the house, and it looked just as he remembered, except even more run down. He knocked, but of course there was no answer. He tried the door, but it was locked. Finally, in frustration he just kicked the door in, which he quickly realized at his age was not a great idea. With his back in shooting pain, he made his way inside the house. He remembered it as always being messy, except for Andy’s room, which was as spotless clean as you could get. The memory made him even more ashamed and furious. The poor kid, taking ownership and control of the only thing he could, his tiny space.

But now the house had dissolved into complete filth. He could smell old dishes with rotten food and old soapy water. The mixture was revolting.

The curtains covered the windows, not letting in any sun. Jack ripped them down in anger, the blinding sunlight bringing the living room into light, uncovering all the dirt hidden away by the dark, like the huge carpet burns and stains on the sofa. He went from room to room, like an avenging angel, ripping down the blinds and curtains, letting in the sunlight, the rage propelling him like an arrow.

Finally, he got to the bedroom. He ripped the curtains off and saw him laying on the mattress. Skinny lump of bones and grey skin and a pair of grey briefs. Waste of human flesh, Jack thought. Paul groaned as the harsh light hit his face. Jack grabbed him by his long-ish black hair and dragged him into the living room where he threw him on the dirty carpet floor.

“What the fuck man,” Paul yelled, not even recognizing his own father. But slowly a spark of acknowledgement came over his face.

“Remember me?” Jack asked.

“Hey Jack,” Paul replied, jeering. The hatred for his father on full display.

“Was it you?”

“Was what me, old man?”

“Did you drive into David and Elisabeth Andrews on purpose, and leave them bleeding out on the road all those years ago?” Paul raised his eyebrow, straining to remember.

“Who’s that?”

“You know who it is.”

Paul continued jeering. Jack wanted to slap the look off his face.

“Oh…the fancy Mercedes. Yes, I remember now. Tall, good looking guy. But he didn’t look as fancy when he was crawling out of that wreck with a mangled arm.”

“You sick piece of shit,” Jack said as he hit him with his gun, causing his son’s temple to gush with blood. But Paul, half-high and still somewhat drunk, just laughed harder, further infuriating Jack.

“Then you made the boy torch your car?”

“Oh yeah, that little shit stain was helpful for once,” Paul mused.

“He was a little boy, you were supposed to take care of him.”

“He was a piece of shit, and always will be. Anyway, it’s a little late for you to care about what happened to Andy.”

“Where did I go wrong with you Paul? How did I raise someone like you?”

“Fuck you!” Paul shouted back, now serious. “You think you’re all that? Righteous cop? Solid husband? Well let me tell you, you’re nothing. You were a shitty husband, shitty father, and a shitty cop. You’ve failed at everything you’ve ever touched.”

“I did the best I could, but it was always hard for me to be around you…there was always something wrong with you Paul. You were never quite right.”

“Nobody was ever right in the eyes of the morally righteous detective Jack Miller,” Paul spat out, “The savior of fucking humanity. The beacon of what’s right and wrong. You straight and narrow motherfucker, nobody would have ever been good enough for you.”

Jack stood there thinking about all the ways he contributed to this situation.

“Why did you drive into them?”

“Why not? Everyone should have some type of suffering in their life. Why should some suffer while others get an easy ride? I was just making things equal. They’re rich, I’m sure they got over it and went on to adopt three African orphans, so really Jack, I did a good deed,” Paul said and started laughing.

Jack whipped him with the gun until Paul hit the ground.

Suddenly, Bryce ran into the room. She was followed by Andy, David and Elisabeth. Right away Bryce tried to diffuse the situation, and Jack smiled thinking he taught her well.

“Jack, calm down. I’m here now. I know what happened. Let’s take him in to the station.”

“We found the man who did this,” Jack said to David and Elisabeth. “Here he is. What do you want to do?”

The couple stood there, completely frazzled. Andy looked from person to person, scared and confused.

“He killed your unborn child, for no reason. He broke up your marriage. And he has no remorse,” Jack continued his speech. “You can choose what happens to him.”

“Not everything is so black and white, Jack,” Bryce said.

“Some things are,” Jack replied calmly.

“Jack, put the gun down,” Kat pleaded as David stood next to her motionless. All these years searching for the killer, imagining each and every way he would hurt and torture him for all the pain he put him and Elisabeth through. And now he was frozen, like a statue. The killer a babbling and bloody mess, pathetic and small and revolting. David wanted to run away, get some fresh air outside, he felt like he was going to throw up.

Jack looked at him with a question in his eye. It was an invitation, he could get his revenge right now, if he wanted it. But strangely all he could think about was holding Elisabeth and crying. Jack turned his eyes back to the sniveling man crumpled on the floor.

“Dad,” Paul pleaded on his knees, now slowly sobering up and actively scared of the situation. Blood and saliva dripping from his split lip, and more blood running from his temple.

“You hurt a child,” Jack said, raising his arm and pointing the Glock at Paul, “you’re no son of mine,” and pulled the trigger.

Elisabeth let out an involuntary shriek and David grabbed her and held on to her in shock, while simultaneously trying to shield her from the horrific sight. Kat stood there motionless, everything flashing right before her eyes. She failed. She failed big time. Paul was now laying on the floor with a grizzly hole in his face. Brilliant red blood pooling around his head like paint on a canvas. She felt like she was in a movie. There was no way this was happening. Finally, the spell of silence was broken when Jack spoke.

“Arrest me.” Kat looked at him bewildered.

“What?” she asked, her voice not sounding like her own.

“Arrest me, and call it in,” Jack said, putting his gun down. Kat’s head was spinning with a million thoughts of how to fix this.

“No, no…he was a danger…he was dangerous, we’ll say your life was in danger, that he was coming at you with a glass bottle,” she was thinking out loud, looking at the scattered beer bottles on the floor, trying to justify the gruesome event they all just partook in.

This was not how Jack Miller’s career was going to come to an end. She wouldn’t allow it. Years of putting his life on the line for others. Years of selfless service and bravery and going above and beyond for justice. She wouldn’t let him end up in a dingy cell. Nothing good happened to cops in prison, especially cops like Jack who’ve ruffled many feathers in their lifetime.

“He was shot execution style, Kat. He wasn’t a danger to anyone anymore. He was a washed-up junkie who could barely see straight at this point. I’m responsible for what he had become. This is my mess, and I’ll do the time for it.”

“Jack…time? We’re talking about the rest of your life here.”

“Well, good thing I had so many good years before this, huh?”

“No…” she muttered, trying to understand how this all got so fucked up. There had to be a way to salvage this. Jack walked up to her and smiled sadly. He touched her face.

“I know you’ve been working with me for far too long when you’re trying to come up with loopholes in the justice system. Listen, you’re the most fair and moral person I know, which is why it had to be you here with me. It was fate. It’s time to do the right thing and clear up this mess once and for all. Now, arrest me Kat,” he said gently and held out his hands for her. Kat stood there for a while, everything she believed in so deeply, everything she felt was true was collapsing around her. Jack was a good man. He was a good cop. Did he really deserve to spend the rest of his life in prison because of Paul? Paul, who ruined so many lives and caused so much grief. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then slowly pulled the handcuffs out and placed them on his wrists.

“You’re doing the right thing, smile,” Jack said.

“You don’t deserve this. It doesn’t feel like I’m doing the right thing,” she replied.

“Murder is murder.”

“Then why did you do it?” she asked.

“Because I’m ok with the consequences. Because his existence was a personal affront. Because he wouldn’t receive the appropriate punishment under our justice system, and I couldn’t deal with the guilt of him hurting anyone else.”

“Jack,” Andy said walking up.

“Listen kid, I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you. I failed you, I let you slip through the cracks. I figured your mother would smarten up, I tried pushing them into rehab, I tried calling CPS multiple times Andy, I did try. But I had no legal rights to you, and I didn’t know what to do. I just put it out of my mind, I ignored it, and for that I will never forgive myself. But I want you to know that I’m very sorry. I will regret this until the day I die.”

Andy stood there for a while, then hugged the cuffed man.

“You’re the only family I have left,” he mumbled into his collar, crying.

“I’ll always be your family Andy. I’m not going anywhere,” Jack replied. Then just as he started feeling emotionally overwhelmed, he directed Kat to take him into custody.