Work Text:
Started: March 4, 2012
Finished: March 9, 2012
She greeted him like always when he got home from work. “Hey Dexter.” He rushed past her.
“Hey Jamie, I’m stepping right back out again. I need you to stay. Late.” She bit her lip and caught up with him.
“I don’t think I can. I should do-” He spun around.
“I’ll pay you double; he cut her off and sweetened the deal.” Her mouth hung open. He nodded his head once looking at her.
“Ok,” she said.
“Great,” he said and smiled a little, readied himself and rushed out the door again.
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Dexter is a very meticulous person and very orderly. He is very involved in his work, often leaving again to work late. He kept to himself and was guarded and as a friendly complement she was warm and easy going with him. Jamie Batista, Angel’s younger sister had become Harrison’s nanny a few months ago. She stayed late for him occasionally and didn’t mind. She had got attached to Harrison. The pay was really good and the place was quite comfortable. It was semi lived in, museum quality and she enjoyed keeping it that way. When Harrison was napping she studied and did house work. She liked doing the laundry and putting away the fresh smelling clothes. She found it sad that Harrison had to grow up and never know his mother, but Dexter was a great father, when he was around.
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Jamie had laid Harrison down for a nap. She wandered around the house taking a break from studying. She turned the air conditioner up a notch. She leaned into the cool air, getting dangerously close to seeing the hidden box. She got a little closer. “Hey, what are you doing in there?” She whispered to the lonely and dubious box. She carefully took the cover off and reached in. Holding the box, the temptation was almost too much not to open it. She took it to the counter. I shouldn’t, it was in there for a reason, she told herself; I should not, but... She opened the box. The sight of at least 3 dozen slides holding what looked like a drop of blood was astonishing and mysterious. She closed it and put it back carefully. She hastily snapped the cover back on, hearing a sharp crack. “Shit,” she swore and took the cover back off and examined it. Her eyes grew huge. “Shit, shit, shit.” she said. One of the small tabs had broken off.
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A box of blood slides. How strange,’ she thought. ‘It looks like he is keeping track of something, but what? Was it…human? It has to be some kind of results from an experiment or samples from…what?’ She found herself becoming very, very curious. ‘Anyone who has a box of hidden away blood slides might also have something else in the house. Something to link them together, to shed light on them, somewhere, hidden away. All I have to do is look. I can’t, she scolded herself. I can’t think that way. I have to put that out of my mind. Dexter’s been nothing but great to me. I can’t go snooping through his things. I won’t do it.’ She put the peculiar box in the back of her mind and stressed about what she was going to say when he found the vent chipped.
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It was another typical day at the apartment. She went to the grocery store. His phone buzzed. He looked at it and it was Jamie. “Hey Jamie. What’s up?”
“Just calling to tell you that you don’t have to get take out again. I’m making dinner.”
“Uh, ok. Sounds good.”
“Great.” She hung up. She made dinner often and he found that nice.
...
Later, when he arrived home.
“You know you don’t have to do this. I pay you for taking care of Harrison. I can get take out or I can cook.”
“What can you cook?” she smiled. “When do you cook?” she teased. He smiled.
“You’re spoiling me.”
“Keep the rest for lunch tomorrow.”
“I couldn’t, you did all the work.”
“I’ll keep the rest tomorrow.”
“Deal.”
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One night after returning from a kill, after he sent Jamie home, he took the vent off the air conditioner and filed away the blood slide. When he replaced it, he noticed one corner didn’t click into place. He examined it and gasped slightly. There was a piece missing. When did this happen? It wasn’t like this last time. Did someone…touch? The thought was almost too much for him to bare and he swayed with unease and suspicion. He got his kit and dusted for prints.
Did someone break into my apartment? Or was it Jamie. Sweet, highly respectable Jamie. If they are hers then Jamie and Daddy Dexter are going to sit down and have a serious chat. And there they were, Jamie’s prints all over the vent and the box. He was overwhelmed with the thought. She’s seen inside. I trusted her with my apartment, with everything inside it that has any meaning, Harrison. I need to get a new nanny.
But I can’t. I can’t fire her after what she’s seen, it would be suspicious. She certainly doesn’t know exactly what she saw. I can still talk to her. Maybe I should throw her a veiled threat, after all, she was in the wrong. No, that would make me look guilty, fill her with unease and perhaps more curiosity. That and what she saw might make her uneasy, uneasy enough to tell her brother, Sergeant Batista.
An unbidden thought snaked inside of his lizard brain. It wound itself around with thoughts of how an unchecked version of him had killed Ellen Wolf. His name was Miguel. LeGuerta had obtained proof which had put her in Dexter’s cross hairs. He took a deep breath. After all, that was the first rule of the “code” not to get caught.
The second one being, not to kill an innocent. I’m not sure I ever could. I didn’t kill that boy who saw me abduct the coyote from the trunk of a car. I didn’t even think of it. I didn’t have to kill Lumen. They both saw me as someone who helped them. But Jamie, a cops sister with a very strong conviction of whats right and wrong. I have nothing to offer her, but she’s always helped me. Always went above and beyond. If anything, I'm indebted to her and I can’t even be a good boss or a good man. Jamie is Angel’s sister and he considered Angel a friend. He is a good man, Dexter thought. If I was human, I would want to be like him.
He dashed to the bedroom and dusted his storage chest for prints as well. If she’s seen my tools, it’s over. It’s kind of hard to explain the knives, syringes and rolls of duct tape. Fear twisted at his insides. The cops could be coming here; they could be coming at any moment. He rushed through the procedure with a pounding heart. The results where finally in. Only mine. He was still safe. He still pondered questions; I should fire her? Teach her a lesson? What should I say to her? Should I even say anything?
She was at Dexter’s babysitting Harrison when the phone rang. It was Dexter. Feeling particularly playful she answered with, “Yes, Mr. Morgan,” as if she was his secretary. There was a pause.
“Hey, I’m calling to remind you to pick up the dry cleaning at 1 this afternoon.”
“Ok.
“And, also, I need reservations for 2 at The Pearl.”
“Ohh a date?” Jamie smiled.
“No, just my sister. She’s been talking about going there for weeks.”
“Aww, so sweet. I’ll get right on that Mr. Morgan.” He replied with,
“Thanks,” then hung up and furrowed his brows. Mr. Morgan? He questioned in his mind. That was a first. He wasn’t sure what to think about it but he was pretty sure it was positive.
When she got off the phone she looked up The Pearl. It was a South Beach restaurant and champagne lounge. “Very nice,” she whispered.
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She felt guilty for chipping the vent and peeping into the box. It seemed that with every passing day it got worse. She couldn’t understand quite why she felt this bad. It wasn’t like she had stole anything thing or hurt anyone. She decided the next day after he got back from work, she’d come clean and hope he wouldn’t fire her.
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“Hey Jamie,” Dexter greeted as he came home.
“Hey Dexter. How was work?”
“Oh just, the usual. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Harrison’s napping,” Jamie informed.
“That’s good.” She stood and approached him slowly.
“Dex, I did something really terrible.” He turned to face her. Her palms were sweaty and she twisted her hands nervously, keeping her eyes on the floor. “I invaded your privacy,” she paused “I hope you won’t be mad, at least not too mad. I’d understand if you’d want me to leave right now.”
“Jamie,” he stopped her gently. “Just tell me,” he said even though he already knew what it was about.
“I saw something in the air conditioner, behind the vent. I’m really sorry. I knew it was wrong of me to snoop. It was none of my business, IS none of my business. I’m sorry.” She didn’t mention the box or the contents but was extremely ashamed of what she did. He let her go on with her apology, noting how embarrassed she was and how she couldn’t look him in the eye for more then a moment. “I broke the air conditioner vent when I was in a hurry putting it back on. I’ve been feeling terrible that I just had, had to tell you even if I loose this job.” She was afraid of what he’d say so she just kept talking and planned to excuse herself. “I’m so sorry,” she said again. “I understand if you want to fire me. I’ll completely understand. I can go right now.” She hurriedly stepped past him but he took her arm.
“Hold on,” he said carefully. “I get it, Jamie, we all get curious. Relax, I take it that you won’t do it again.” She looked straight into his eyes that time.
“Oh god no. Never,” she answered flustered.
“Good,” he smiled crookedly. “I’d hate to have to get a new sitter.”
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Dexter was getting ready to go to the Pearl with Deb while Jamie kept an eye on Harrison.
He came out dressed in a steely gray suit with a blood red tie.
“Wow,” she said.
“You think this is appropriate?” he asked. She rounded him.
“It’s too bad it isn't a date. You look killer in that suit.” Her cheeks reddened. She put her hand over her mouth out of embarrassment. “It looks good, really good,” she finished moderately. “You need to take pictures and post them on face book.”
“I don’t have facebook.”
“Tell your sister to post them on facebook.”
“Ok.” He looked at his watch. “I should go. I told Deb I’d pick her up at 7. He kissed Harrison good-bye.
“Have fun,” Jamie called to him.
“Thanks.”
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The phone rang at around 9. It was Dexter. He told her he was going to be back really late so she shouldn’t worry and not to wait up.
He got home and saw her asleep on the couch. He went to his bedroom to change. He walked to the bathroom and noticed Jamie was sitting on the couch gathering her things to get ready to go. “You don’t have to go. It’s 1 am. You can stay.”
Coming back into his bedroom he saw his 2 pillows. He bent next to her and tapped her shoulder and gave her a pillow. “Thanks Dexter,” she said sleepily.
“Your welcome.”
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The next day at Dexter’s demure dwelling.
He came rushing in the door. “Hey, I need you to do a really big favor for me. I have to leave again. I won’t be home till late.”
“I would but I can’t, I have plans.”
“Come on Jamie please, I need this.”
“I don’t know…I suppose I could reschedule.”
“I’ll make it up to you. Thanks, you really saved me.” He put his hands together and nodded his head. She had never met someone who she constantly forsook her plans for. She didn’t know how he did it and she held no hard feelings.
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He came in and found Jamie reading Harrison a bedtime story.
“Hey Jamie. Can you still stay for a few? I’ve got some things to do.”
“Sure,” she replied. She came out of the bedroom and sat on the couch with her school books. She had noticed him rub his neck and shoulders repeatedly, warily. She approached him and he closed the screen he was reading and brought up something else. “Dexter, can I try something?” He looked at her inquisitively and a little scared.
“Uh, maybe.” She started to rub his shoulders. He sat there tense but then gave over to how surprisingly relaxing it felt.
“How is this?” She asked.
“That’s…nice.” After a while he added, “I should be paying you more.” She laughed.
“Have you been to a spa?”
“No. Lying naked on a table naked, helpless, not my thing.”
“How was the Pearl?”
“It was nice.”
“How did Deb like it?”
“We went there on live music night. She enjoyed herself, especially their champagne lounge. She got a little tipsy and wanted to dance with me.”
“Did she?” Jamie laughed. “And did you?”
“Dexter doesn’t dance,” he said simply. She playfully smacked him on the shoulder.
“Ladies love a guy who can dance or ones that will at least try.” He moved his neck and shoulders around.
“Wow.” He rose to his feet. “Wow,” he said again. She smiled. He rotated the chair, took her shoulders and pushed her to sit down. “Keep in mind I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’ll do my best. Besides, I owe you for earlier. Thanks for staying.” He started to return the favor. She wore a skimpy dress for the hot Miami weather leaving his hands access to her bare skin. He started to work on her shoulders some albeit awkwardly. Its been so long since he touched a person with care or affection besides his son. Usually when he was behind someone touching them he either had them in a sleeper hold or had their neck wrapped tight in fishing wire. He smiled to himself. “Sorry,” he said absentmindedly.
“For what?” Jamie asked.
“For my amateur work,” he replied.
“No it feels good,” she insisted. “Sometimes I don’t realized how stiff I become leaning over my books.” He went back to working on her shoulders, still less then graceful. He moved up to her neck and did something that felt amazing. Right next to her spine he did something with his thumbs that made her tingle all over. “Just like that,” she said. “God, you’re good with your hands,” she complemented.
“Thanks.” He smiled kindly, a smile that only got wider. “I like working with my hands.”
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She was vacuuming his bedroom and her eyes drifted to his half open closet. She felt a pull of curiosity come over her again. She shut the vacuum off and put her hand on the door and looked from side to side scanning the items. She fingered his shirts ever so slightly then dropped to her knees. A trunk. Interesting, she thought.
She put her hand on it. Don’t do it, her mind told her. Don’t touch anything. I’ll put it right back, she reasoned. Remember what happened last time. I won’t break anything this time. Don’t you respect him at all? I just want to know. I want to understand. There could be something here that will make sense of the blood slides I found. No, you promised the man you wouldn’t snoop around again. She remembered the look in his eyes. She remembered how embarrassed she had been. Her curiosity was telling her; He’s never going to find out.
She pulled it out and opened it. She rifled through it carefully so that she could put it back exactly as she saw it. Just stuff, regular, ordinary stuff. She heard a knocking noise at the bedroom door. Three small subtle bumps. She almost jumped out of her skin as her head turned involuntarily to the direction of the noise. She sucked in a huge breath when she saw it was just Harrison. “Oh god. Oh god. Oh thank god.” She felt light headed. “It’s just you Harrison.” He smiled and left.
She closed the trunk and ran her hands over it. I had one of these when I was a teenager, she thought. She ran her hands along the front. She traced her finger along the nearly invisible line on the trunk, then along the sides. She pulled as if she were pulling out a drawer. Curious and curiouser, she thought. It wasn’t just a crease in design, it was a secret compartment. She cracked it open and gazed at the contents.
Lots of rolled plastic sheets, duct tape, a small folding box and large black coth folding case of some kind. She took it out and unfolded it. “Holy Mary mother of…Jesus,” she whispered as she made the ritual sign of the cross. Knives. About a dozen different knives all stainless steel from hilt to tip. She took the small case and opened it. She found a syringe with some mysterious drug inside. What is this? What is all this? A wave of dizziness over took her. Get a grip, she told herself. It’s 3:00. He gets home in about 2 hours. I’m sure this isn’t as bad as it looks. There’s got to be a good explanation for this. Close it up and push it back into the closet. Act normal. It’s nothing, really. If it was anything serious he wouldn't have anyone in his house while he wasn’t home, right? Right.
He came home later and she had her things already gathered. “Listen, he began. I really appreciate the extra work you do around here. Good help is hard to find.”
“Sure,” she replied without looking up.
“Have a good night. Thank you,” he told her on her way out. She stopped and looked at him, knowing she had stumbled upon something. Something secret that probably shouldn’t be a secret and knowing she should probably tell someone. Also, wondering if this should be the last time she should see him. Also, feeling guilty for betraying him for a second time.
He asked gently, “Is something wrong?” She opened her mouth but nothing came out. She rewound her brain to what he had actually said.
“Of course. No. No problem. Harrison’s a great kid. Good night,” she rambled awkwardly. She then turned and left. She cringed at her words when she shut the door.
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She was OK while she had been at his apartment. It wasn’t until she got home that she became paranoid and edgy. Finding hidden syringes, duct tape and knives left her decidedly uneasy about her boss Dexter.
What if he finds out I’ve been snooping again? What if he finds out that I know? Know what exactly? What if I didn’t put something back properly and he notices? I told him I wouldn’t do it again. I can’t tell him this time. I need to just forget about it, no matter what. Just forget what I saw.
But she couldn’t forget. If there was a good and legal explanation for those items, they most certainly would not be hidden.
Part of her told her she shouldn’t be at ease with him. Another larger part of her couldn't imagine him hurting anyone, unless it was self defense. She always believed he was kind and good and that she was safe with him. It showed in the way he was with his son Harrison, when he was around anyway.
What if he already knows? What if the next time I go over there…. No. He wouldn't do anything to me in his own house. I don't feel safe in my own house. Her body vibrated with apprehension and her hands became unsteady. She shook that thought off. How could he know? She put everything back exactly as it was. Her emotions where a roller coaster. What if he’s an assassin? Don’t assassins usually have guns? What if he is a hit man for the mafia? Hit men don’t need that many knives. What if he’s just another psycho who kills for fun? She couldn’t sleep at night anymore.
Call your brother. Confide in him, she thought to herself. If you fear for your safety, call someone or at the very least stop going there. I can’t, she argued with herself. It would look suspicious. He wouldn’t believe me. He knows how attached I am to Harrison and how much I enjoy this job. Make up something, anything. I can’t, he knows my schedule, my college plan, even my extra curricular activities, my friends. He knows more about me than I do about him, but that’s my fault. I tell him everything.
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Jamie put Harrison down a for a nap and curls up with her school assignments on the couch. She woke up to light and noises in the kitchen. She realized she fell asleep and sat up quickly. “You’re awake.” She gathered her books quickly.
“I don’t know what happened. One minute I’m studying then the next... I put Harrison down first.”
“It’s OK. I was trying to be quiet.” She realized she could only sleep easy at his apartment because everyone knew where she was.
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He came home several nights and found Harrison napping and her sleeping on his couch, books and lap top open. He closed the door quietly. He put a blanket over her wondering what’s causing her sleepless nights. She started to sit up. He knelt down in front of her. “You can stay.”
“Here?”
“Yeah here. The truth is, I haven’t wanted send you home after I see the shape you’re in. You shouldn’t drive.”
“It’s my problem. The last thing you should do is let me stay for sleeping on the job when you should be firing me.”
“Nonsense. I feel safe when you here. I know I work crazy hours.” Her eyes grew watery at his graciousness. “You ok?”
“Yeah, I just get overly emotional when I’m tired.”
“You could tell me why you’re having trouble sleeping?” She looked around then down. “Who do I have to kill?” He asked jokingly. Her eyes grew huge. He caught her eye and with a smile said, “kidding.” Not entirely, he thought to himself. He observed her for a moment longer. “OK, I get it. It’s personal. I know what a lack of sleep feels like. I hope you sleep better soon.” She looked into his dark hazel eyes.
“Thanks for being kind.”
“I wish you could tell me what’s wrong.” He put his hand on the side of her head and brushed her forehead with his thumb. “I very much want to fix it.” She closed her eyes. “Goodnight.” he said.
“Good night.” She was relived he finally left. She was about to break down and didn’t need him to see it. How? How could he be a monster? He could’ve just been normal. Having me drive home like normal or even firing me for sleeping on the job but no, he shows care, extra extra care. His joke stayed with her, ‘who do I have to kill?’ in suggesting someone hurt her. What if he only hurts bad people? It makes more sense, not just because I need it to.
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She thought of a case from years ago. A killer of killers called the Bay Harbor Butcher. It was said that he had died but, maybe he really didn’t. The odds of having 2 vigilante killers in Miami one to pick up the torch as soon as the other passed seemed ridiculous. Someone like that would be able to cover his tracks. She just couldn’t see Dexter as a monster going around hurting innocent people.
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Jamie wanted to ask Batista about a past case. Currently she couldn’t find time to meet with him apart from her classes, studying and being Harrison’s nanny and practically Dexter’s personal assistant. She decided to take Harrison to visit Dexter and hope to talk to her brother if he was around.
“Hey Dexter.”
“Hey Jamie,” he greeted, clearly happy to see them both.
“I was taking him for a walk and he wanted to come see you. I hope that’s ok.”
“That’s fine.”
“I’ll be back in a few,” she said and Dexter nodded. Jamie went to look for her brother. She made small talk and eventually worked up to what she really wanted to ask. “You were here during the Bay Harbor Butcher investigation, right?” He nodded. “What kind of evidence did they find?”
“A wallet full of knives and a box of blood slides. Why?” She swayed. “Are you ok sis?”
“Mmhmm,” she said. She started to walk away not really hearing him. She got into the elevator, both stunned and relieved, in a sense. The unfortunate bottom line was she knows something she should not know.
The police said that the case was solved, that they found out who did it. James Doakes was the butcher but he wasn't. Dexter must have framed him and killed him to take the heat of him. Or maybe Doakes found out Dexter’s secret and that’s what got him conveniently framed and killed. And he might somehow find out that I know. She had to go somewhere away from people and relax. She concentrated on her breathing. A wave of tiredness hit her like a train and dropped to the floor.
“Hey! I need some help over here!”
“An officer came rushing in. Batista! Batista it’s your sister, she’s unconscious.” Deb, Masuka, Dex, Harrison and LeGuerta followed.
Angel and Dexter bent down over Jamie. “She was found passed out in the elevator. The paramedics should be here shortly,” another officer informed them.
“Jamie, Jamie!” Batista spoke to her in Spanish.
Dex checked the pulse in her neck. “Her pulse is strong,” he said.
“Jamie, its Angel.” He tapped her face. “Wake up.”
She opened her eyes, not fully awake. She saw 2 faces near her. She looked from Angel to Dexter and gave him the briefest wary look until she pulled her eyes away from his.
“Hey Jamie,” said Angel. “It’s alright.” He helped her sit up. She gripped his fore arm with both her hands unusually tight. “Are you ok? Are you still feeling faint?” Angel asked.
“Uh no…yeah.” She glanced at Dexter and he was stilling looking at her. She shivered.
“Can some one get her a glass of water?” He asked then turned to her, “the paramedics should be here soon.”
“I don’t want to see a doctor.” Jamie stood up.
“You’re going to see a doctor.” Her brother insisted.
“No, I’m fine!” She said louder then necessary.
“You said you were still feeling faint.”
Jamie walked away. “I’m good Angel just, butt…out.” Dexter flashed him a face of sympathy.
Dexter approached Jamie. “You’re sure you’re ok?” She avoided his eyes.
“Yeah, uh, I think so.”
“You don’t sound very sure. I’ll take Harrison for the rest of the day. You can go home.”
“Are you sure?” She asked.
“Debs,” Dexter called. “Can I take Harrison for the rest of the day?”
“Sure,” she replied. He looked at her and raised his brows.
“You need a ride. I need to grab a few things from my office first.”
“I think I can make it back to your apartment.”
“It wasn’t a question,” he said as he left hastily. She briefly thought about taking a cab, just disappearing, at least until she could calm down. She waited till he was out of sight and hastily made her way outside. She semi hid herself between the thick concrete columns out side the building. She sank down with her knees up to her chest and took a deep breath.
“There you are,” she heard his voice and looked up. “You ready?” She paused. Don’t look weird, she told herself. He held out a hand. She gaped and saw a glimpse of charming Dexter. He never usually offered physical contact. She took his hand straight away.
The car ride was quiet and awkward for her. She either fidgeted more then normal or sat too still for too long. At least that’s what it seemed like to her. His voice broke the silence. “Do you have any idea what might’ve been the reason you passed out?”
She kept her eyes down and in her lap. She paused before answering, “No, I-I really don’t.”
“Jamie,” he said in a tone of voice that made her look at him. “You’re looking kind of pale. Maybe you should see a doctor.” She looked away.
“Not you too.” He touched her arm, she stopped breathing.
“It’s not just you I’m looking out for, you watch Harrison.” She let a breath out.
“You’re right. Thanks for your concern but I’m fine, I promise.” He parked the car.
“Promise to see a doctor. It will give Angel some piece of mind and me too.”
“Fine,” she gave in.
“Good.”
“Thanks for the lift.”
“No Problem.”
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She wished that she never looked inside his air conditioner, never looked in his closet. She had more respect for him then that. She couldn't understand how her curiosity had got the better of her. She was never one to snoop. He was just so mysterious. Now he’s the killer of killers but what about anyone who got in his way, or found out? Do they all end up like Doakes. If he actually knew that I know, he would have done something about it already. Maybe he trusts me, really trusts that I didn't go looking for more. She calmed down. Realizing he’s much to careful to not deal with a problem right away, if one arose. He won’t know that I know. Just act normal. Things can go back to normal. He’s the killer of killers not babysitters.
She was studying at Dexter’s waiting for 5 o’clock to roll around. Meeting her friends later was practically all she could think of. They were going to go the 7 Seas karaoke bar in Miami. With her busy schedule and with her friends equally busy schedules she was glad they could all find time to hang out. She couldn’t wait to go home, get herself all dolled up and go out.
He came in in his occasional rush and she braced herself for his probable question.
“I’m going to be leaving again shortly. I have some important stuff to do.”
She held her book bag to her chest and approached him. “I really can’t stay tonight. I’m meeting friends at the 7 Seas. It’s karaoke night.” He stood before her opening his mouth but words didn’t come out. He looked down and sighed. She watched him as if waiting for permission. Then her eyes drifted to his hands, then to his eyes and she thought of what she‘d be keeping him from doing if she didn‘t look after Harrison. He stood like a twisted super hero before her.
“I-” he began.
“Dexter,” she interrupted, “if you really need me,” she swallowed. “I’ll cancel.”
He thought a moment. It would be very inappropriate not to mention not nice of me to keep asking her to cancel her plans on my account. I would rather her be happy then unhappy with me. “No, he began; you should go, go with your friends.”
“You’re not mad?”
He placed his hands on her elbows and said, “I ask too much, I know I ask too much of you. I know I’m not your only commitment.” She was affected by charming Dexter yet again.
“Thanks,” she said, though wanting to say more.
He walked her to the door. “Go, have fun…karaoke-ing,” he finished clumsily.
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The following day he got home from work. He thanked Jamie and sent her on her way.
He went about his usual afternoon making dinner, taking care of Harrison and stalking killer’s profiles on his computer. He got an irritating feeling in the back of his mind to check something. It was a paranoid feeling that something was off, missing or out. His gut told him to dust his trunk again. He wasn’t really concerned but his gut was usually right. He took prints off his trunk and followed procedure with an increasingly sick feeling.
He found them to be hers.
Where is Jamie right now? He asked himself. He looked at his watch. She should get out of class in 45 minutes. Perfect. He packed Harrison up and headed out the door. I need to fix this, right now.
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Doakes and Lumen taught him to have a place to keep people he needed to have a private chat with in an emergency. A secret place on the outskirts of Miami, out in the middle of nowhere. He didn’t want to kill her, he didn’t want to take her this way but every second he waited is a second she could get an attack of conscience and tell her brother sergeant Batista of Dexter’s suspicious and incriminating items. …………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
He knew her car and stalked the parking lot. People came and went but the cars kept getting fewer and fewer. It was as if some unseen force was smiling upon him when he saw how few cars were in the lot and how she just happened to be one of the last ones to come out. He crept up, slid the needle into her neck and she collapsed in his arms.
The following day he got home from work. He thanked Jamie and sent her on her way.
He went about his usual afternoon making dinner, taking care of Harrison and stalking killer's profiles on his computer. He got an irritating feeling in the back of his mind to check something. It was a paranoid feeling that something was off, missing or out. His gut told him to dust his trunk again. He wasn't really concerned but his gut was usually right. He took prints off his trunk and followed procedure with an increasingly sick feeling.
He found them to be hers.
Where is Jamie right now? He asked himself. He looked at his watch. She should get out of class in 45 minutes. Perfect. He packed Harrison up and headed out the door. I need to fix this, right now.
Doakes and Lumen taught him to have a place to keep people he needed to have a private chat with in an emergency. A secret place on the outskirts of Miami, out in the middle of nowhere. He didn't want to kill her, he didn't want to take her this way but every second he waited is a second she could get an attack of conscience and tell her brother sergeant Batista of Dexter's suspicious and incriminating items.
….
He knew her car and stalked the parking lot. People came and went but the cars kept getting fewer and fewer. It was as if some unseen force was smiling upon him when he saw how few cars were in the lot and how she just happened to be one of the last ones to come out. He crept up, slid the needle into her neck and she collapsed in his arms.
….
I placed her gently on the floor beside a wall and sat on a dresser across from her. When she woke she looked around at her strange surroundings and to me. She she sat up fast looking around some more and said my name anxiously. "Dexter." Her eyes rested on me and she knew, that I knew, that she knew. She looked at me with guilt in her eyes. "Dexter…" she said weakly.
"Jamie," I said slowly. Her faced reddened as if she was about to cry. She drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. With how much she had apologized and felt genuinely awful the first time she snooped, the second time must be far worse plus the unimaginable complication of it. We were both silent, waiting for the other to speak. She wiped her face. My eyes floated from my hands to her and she couldn't even look at me. It was like we were having a wordless conversation. A repeat from last time. But this time, neither one of us knew how to bring up the new morbid developments and what it means for us. "I'm sorry about this," I said slowly and she finally looked at me.
"Why did you bring me here?"
"Talk."
"But you're not talking."
"We were already in a similar situation weeks ago..." She sniffled and wiped her face again.
"I'm sorry," she said barely above a whisper. I was surprised she wasn't screaming and trying to get away, having seen my tools and what I must do with them.
"I'd ask you why and even be angry at you, but I already understand. It's human nature to be curious. No need for apologies."
"Dexter, I know. I know the Bay Harbor Butcher didn't die in the everglades." I stared for a moment, open mouthed.
"Are you the only one who knows this?" she looked up at me and nodded her head.
"Yes," she answered quickly. I took a deep breath.
"You inquired to your brother what evidence they found for the Bay harbor Butcher case." I stated.
"Yes, but I won't be talking to him again, about it," she said quickly as she eyed the door to the right of me.
"What made you even think of that case in the first place?" She got to her feet.
"I know you're a good man Dexter." Is she lying to me, I wondered. Her voice is laced with guilt. In my fantasies about being accepted by a crowd of cheering people, I know that it's just that, a fantasy.
"We're good." She started heading to the door. "Jesus Dex," she took a deep breath. "All you had to do was talk to me." She forced a smile. "You didn't have to bring me here."
"You snooped repeatedly into my things." She stopped and her whole frame slumped. She looked at the floor.
"I'll look for another job," she said regretfully.
"Jamie, come here." I said, before she reached the door. I gestured for her to stand where she had stood before. She obeyed. "All the people who the butcher killed, were killers but even you can't accept that the person who chopped up all those people enjoyed it."
"How do you know what I can and can't accept?"
"You'd be lying if you said you could accept it."
"Have you never once though that there might be people who agree with what you do?"
"Only in my fantasies."
"I know you'd never hurt an innocent person." She walked to the door again and found it locked. She looked to me, the events seeming more real to her. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"Being afraid," I said while I turned to face her. "I find it, hard, to trust you," I said gently. Her face turned pink again as she looked me in the eyes.
"But, it's what you've been doing all along. This doesn't change anything. I swear to you."
"You have a conscience, like a normal person. You looked in the vent and broke it, you felt extremely guilty and you confessed. This is considerably more serious. You're an upstanding citizen, not a liar and secret keeper."
"But I'm loyal to you. Even after I found your, um, things. I didn't know what you were and all the things you could be were keeping me up at night." He instantly wanted to comfort her, pull her into a hug. He took a step forward.
"It was me? I was the reason?" She took a step toward him as well. He held out his hand and she slowly took it. "I'm sorry for being the cause of your sleeplessness. I'm sorry for the fear you must have felt, because of me."
"It's ok now. Now I know you're the vigilante. You save people. I know you're a good man Dexter."
"Chopped up bodies in bags suggests otherwise. You know this." He let her hand go and she felt it's loss. She moved to sit on the dresser.
"Stop it. That doesn't matter. The end result is the same." I sat next to her.
"I'm not some story book hero who gets away unscathed. This has serious consequences. You're not an accomplice."
"Then, what am I, dead? Like the Sargent that was suspicious of you. You framed him and he ended up dead." She looked at me warily.
"I didn't kill him." She looked at me now like she didn't believe me.
"O-ok,"
"It was, complicated."
"You, you can't-
"What? Get away with this? There where no cameras, no witnesses, no trace." Worry stayed on her face with my confirmation. "It's what I do, second nature," I smoothed over.
"What are you going to do?" She wiped her face. I had often thought I would flee if I was about to be caught. Go to Europe or Mexico, but I felt I had too much here to live for, my dear sister Deb and my son Harrison. I didn't want to abandon them. I stayed silent. She put her head on my shoulder. "Dexter, I don't want to you to go to go away. Harrison needs you. I have always thought you should spend more time with him."
"It's compelling to hear you say that, but I can't seem to trust you with my things. How can I trust you with my life?" She leaned away from me.
You can't mean to, if you really don't trust me, why didn't you just-." She wiped her face and sniffled. "Why did you do this? Why are we here? Why are you making this like a waking nightmare? I don't even know where I am or how I got here." Her brother Angel was the man I would want to be like if I could be like anyone and I could never want to take his own sister from him. But also, Dark Dexter likes Disturbing things. I could easily capture and dispatch my victims but I can't help my dark passenger's desires.
The simple truth is that I crave control. I have to tell them, why they are here." I said dreamily.
"Them?"
"The people that I've killed. I tell myself it's to tell them what they did wrong. But, it's really because I enjoy dominating, humiliating and intimidating them." She recoiled from me. I took a sharp breath and regretted my confession. She curled her arms up around herself and moved to slide off the dresser away from me but was stopped as I placed my hand on the wall in front of her. She cowered and turned away from me, leaning into the wall beside her. "Jamie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that to you. I can't help the way that I am. Jamie look at me. Look at me." She almost did. I made my voice extra smooth and persuasive. "That wasn't meant for you. Look at me, if I ever meant anything to you."
"P-please stop," she cried.
"I brought you here because," I paused. "Because I was scared. Jamie. I didn't want my family to be ripped apart." I noticed a slight change in her breathing. I let out a breath. What would I do if I was normal? Well, I wouldn't have done any of this for starters. This whole time she was telling me she was loyal and even was relived that I am what I am, compared to other monsters of course. And I fucked it up by letting Demented Dexter show through for a moment. With out any more thinking, I stood in front of her and she allowed me to gently pull her into my arms. "But you and Angel are like family to me too. If you tell me that we are fine, I trust you. I was just, scared." I rubbed her back kindly.
"Take me home." she said into my shirt.
"Ok, I will. I'll take you home." She moved her arms out from between us and wrapped them around me. I felt her heart beat like a humming bird against mine. I didn't mean to traumatize the babysitter, I swear. She felt my arm slip as I reached into my pocket and put the needle behind my back. She pulled away from our embrace with her eyes remaining downcast and I hesitated. She watched me as she slowly moved to the door expecting me to follow.
"What is it? Please tell me there's nothing wrong."
"Nothing's wrong."
"You said we could leave?"
"Yeah, we can leave." She looked confused. "But I can't have you seeing where I brought you."
"How, how are you going to do that?" I hesitated. Doing this felt so, dirty. I can usually manipulate people so easily, distract them from what's coming. I didn't want to be underhanded Dexter. Somehow, I wanted her permission. I held the syringe up.
"This." She looked at it warily.
"Look, you trust me. You trust me. You don't have to do that."
"You'll wake up, like you did here. It's harmless. I promise."
"How do I know that, like really know that?" Quesados where one of the first things she made to share with me when I got home. I said they where delicious and she made them several times after, then graduated to other tasty dishes as well.
"I swear. I swear on your famous home made Quesados." Instantly, her eyes reddened and tears fell down her cheeks. She hastily wiped them away.
"Ok," she wiped her face some more. "Ok," she repeated.