Picture Perfect

Chapter 23

Shit. That's only the first of the multitude of profanities that immediately fill Andrew's mind as he impatiently awaits his friend's arrival. He stands over the bloodied body of Hector Ortiz, his mind whirling. Straining his memory, Andrew tries to recall a single moment of the interaction that led to the elderly gentleman's demise. Still, not a glimpse can be found among the vicious, rampant throng of thoughts clouding him. His mind is nothing but a thick haze, the dense fog filling the capacity and intermittently infringing on his vision yet again. Andrew repeatedly blinks, hoping to clear the obstruction to his eyesight, but to no avail. The tortuous mist remains, seeping further into the crevices of his brain, encasing his hazel orbs in its depths, impeding him all the more in his efforts to relieve it.

An abrupt knock on his office door sends his heart racing, his self-preservation instincts kicking into overdrive. Leveling his voice, he abstains from injecting his words with the insurmountable panic he feels. "Please," he states calmly, although he is anything but. Even if his office wasn't currently a murder scene, he would be in no state to receive visitors at the moment. "I do not wish to be disturbed."

"Dalton?" Ken Roscoe calls through the thick, wooden structure separating him from the disaster inside the room. "Nelson phoned me," he explains, his voice holding steadily clear of emotions; Andrew can't perceive Ken's intentions by his tone alone, his fear elevating further.

The air is suddenly sucked from the room as if a massive vacuum has just been pressed against the gap beneath the door. Andrew struggles to breathe as he realizes the severity of the situation.

Ken knows what he's done.

Betrayal momentarily stings Andrew's eyes, burning the orbs internally. Hot, hasty drops of lava threaten to spill over, to destroy everything in their path. The pressure on his chest increases, collapsing his lungs and constricting his throat. The lava bubbles beneath the surface uncontrollably. Pain surges through Andrew's entire body as his lungs scream silently for the oxygen they're currently deprived of. His brain pleads with him for a single breath, just one inhale, a slight expansion of his breathing organs, a small gulp of air. Anything.

All unpleasant sensations seizing his body are significantly extinguished by his partner's following words. "I can't help you if you don't let me in," Ken murmurs lowly, his verbalization finally making headway with Andrew's stubborn and unstable mind.

Help. Ken is here to help.

Andrew practically trips over his own feet as he commands his body to move, ungracefully staggering across the room as if it is unfamiliar and rugged terrain. He cautiously presses his palms against the smooth surface of the door, audibly drawing in the air he requires by large, gulping mouthfuls. A shaking hand slowly lowers to the doorknob, granting access to Ken as the lock turns.

Roscoe steps into the room, swiftly closing and securing the door behind him. His attention stays focused on Andrew, observing his friend's currently bewildering condition. It's evident that he's shaken up by the situation; his face is contorted in an odd combination of confusion and pain. Ken breathes deeply before placing a hand firmly on Andrew's shoulder in the hope of consolation.

The simple act startles him, causing Andrew to flinch involuntarily. He lets out a sigh as he recognizes the comforting meaning behind the simple gesture, his thoughts promptly returning from the brink of a mental breakdown. "Nelson?" asks Andrew, his voice croaky and his mind still scattered.

With a nod, Ken silently confirms the inquiry. "He'll be here shortly," he assures. "We'll need you to be calm to pull this off."

Closing his eyes, Andrew steadies himself. It takes several minutes, but with the entirety of his focus on the task, it isn't unachievable. First, his breathing evens, then his heart rate decreases. The loud thrumming of his blood sloshing aggressively in his veins quiets, and the incessant pounding in his head lessens. The process is slow, but finally, his chaotic thoughts lose their momentum and take pause. Reveling in the newfound soundness, Andrew's body releases the stress stockpiled within, allowing a temporary reprieve. His muscles relax, tension abandoning him, his body slouching in relief.

When he has finally collected himself, Andrew opens his eyes. He scans the room, only to find Ken and Richard conversing quietly near the body; their voices are so hushed that he's unable to discern the conversation. Upon noticing their friend's attention on them, Richard is quick to appease Andrew's apparent need for reassurance. "This is what friends are for, Dalton," he says, his voice as composed as always. "What good are connections if you can never put them to use?" he adds, a burst of light laughter rumbling his chest.

The tension in the air thins dramatically as Andrew allows himself to be at peace with the happenings of the day; there isn't any way to change the past, and one shouldn't perturb himself trying. Shutting off his emotions entirely, he eyes Nelson and asks simply, "You have a plan?"

The police chief chuckles, running a hand through his hair. "This isn't my first rodeo," he replies easily, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "The body, the mess, the security tapes, everything will be taken care of, my friend." Giving Andrew a pat on the shoulder, he adds, "You're in good hands."

A small sigh slips past Andrew's lips; that is precisely what he had hoped for. With a nod, he puts all of his trust into Richard, silently agreeing to the plan without hesitation. He doesn't have much choice in the matter, anyway; it's either let Nelson take care of it or go to prison for murder. Even if he defended himself, he highly doubts he could avoid serving time. In fact, much worse things could happen to him if word got out.

After making a phone call, Richard instructs Andrew to freshen himself up, leaving his bloodstained suit in his office for the cleanup crew, before returning home to his pregnant wife.