CHAMBER – Chapter 37 (w/Audio)

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Damien sat on the couch in his small rental home. Raquel laid her head against his chest, absentmindedly caressing her stomach as she streamed a television show about a time traveler in a phone booth. He felt lucky to have been there, having survived rescuing Charity, and given a second chance to spend a life with his wife and child.

He stroked Raquel’s hair and glanced at his Class B uniform, cleaned and pressed, hanging on the hall closet door.

Lieutenant Decker had forgiven Damien for his missteps. Having been thrust into an extraordinary situation, he felt Damien did well for a cadet still in training. He was adamant, however, that he would not be so forgiving after Damien’s graduation.

It’d been a few months since the events at Devil’s Bluff. Charity’s physical injuries were minor and temporary, but she started seeing a psychologist to manage the mental wounds Tobin had inflicted upon her.

Damien spent three days in the hospital after they pulled him from the bluff. Turned out he had a concussion and a small skull fracture. The doctors said he may suffer from headaches for a bit, but should be back to full strength before he left the academy.

The neurologist, a stunning red head named Doctor Shannon McShay, told him Tobin’s attack may make him vulnerable to future issues and to steer clear of anymore blows to the head. If that happened, she warned, the damage could be permanent.

Damien tried to call Sanders, checked on him. The man was a bitter bastard, but even bastard’s deserved a little empathy. The old detective didn’t answer his phone, return Damien’s calls, or answer his doorbell.

It wasn’t until Tobin’s funeral two weeks after his suicide that he saw Sanders again. He wasn’t hard to miss. He and Damien were the only two at the gravesite. Tobin’s mother and sisters didn’t bother to attend.

Standing next to his son’s coffin, Sanders looked fifty years older than when he was working the case weeks earlier. Turned out the detective had made a deal with city manager Frank Lang. Sanders would take on the case of catching Mark’s copycat if the city agreed to turn the remainder of his pension into a lump sum trust to be used exclusively for Tobin’s college education.

Good intentions never realized.

Less than a month later, Hayeston’s greatest and most polarizing detective succumbed to his disease. Having lost the will to live, his mind stopped fighting, and Sanders died of heartbreak as much as cancer.

Damien was the only person to attend his funeral.

While the coffin was placed into a plot next to his freshly buried son, Damien tried to offer some prayers for their souls, even though such things were foreign to him. That was Jacob’s territory. Yet, if God did exist, then Damien felt Sanders and his boy deserved at least one more prayer before moving on.

Helping to solve Darlene and Mandy’s murders gave Damien confidence and he couldn’t wait to don the Hayeston police uniform in an official capacity. He looked forward to the clarity such a position would bring and the stability it would provide for his family.

Sanders left his mark on Hayeston by being a great and deeply flawed man. Damien would be lucky to become someone who would remain in the town’s thoughts after his career was over.

There was one thing Damien had to do before his graduation. He needed to keep his promise to Mark. He needed to go back to death row and talk with his friend. He wouldn’t accuse or condemn. He would joke. He would listen.

He would do all these things with a single purpose in mind – to know how a serial killer knew his father.

The living room curtains fluttered as a cool fall breeze moved into the room. A chill danced across Damien’s neck. His hometown felt different with another serial killer in its history.

Darker somehow.

He kissed his wife on the forehead and placed his hand on her stomach, his protective instincts stirring awake. He listened to the rustling leaves outside and felt something more than winter was approaching his small town.

He turned and stared at his Class B uniform, hoping he’d be ready for whatever was coming next.


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