S2, E4 | Your Friendly Neighbourhood Officers

“And what is your role in all of this?” Beth queries, her upper body draped in a denim jacket- the sleeves of which conceal the hands that remain tied behind her back. For a moment, Harlington does not answer, his foot continues to gently rest on the gas pedal that directs his car around a few soft turns in the quiet, forest-surrounded road. Despite the calm and unimposing scene, the view of nature appears less pleasant whilst the silence and seclusion of it creates a sense of concern.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean by that” Harlington responds, his composure intact as he maintains control of the vehicle, periodically glancing toward level areas of the ground beside the road to be prepared for any unexpected encounters. “If there are people trying to not cover up the case itself, but the perpetrator- what is your role in it?” Beth reiterates as per request, “are you in on it? Did you make the call? Were you one of the people that kept it quiet?”

With a grin, the man shakes his head without offering an answer at first, the hesitation to respond allowing Beth to prod at the man, coming up with her own conclusion in lieu of her kidnapper’s own. “Maybe you’re just some conspiracy theorist” the woman remarks, staring through the windshield with a look kept on the man out of the corner of his eye, “you’re not the worst guy to look at, and nut jobs like those aren’t usually attractive. Then again, you did kidnap me.”

“Like I’ve said before, I wouldn’t have to tie you up if you hadn’t tried to kill yourself” Harlington replies, defending his actions in a way that the subject to them doesn’t take much care in. Forming the faintest frown with her lips, Beth turns her attention toward the window at her side, allowing herself a glance at the continued, multi-mile stretch of treeline that bleeds into Remedy Hills, running down the length of the town like sweat down a marathon runner five miles in.

“There’s this group that’s existed in Remedy Hills for a few years now. I don’t know what their name is and I’m not sure who’s in it, but I know what they do and why” Harlington explains, giving into the request that was paid to him whilst the drive continues. “For years, the people in this town that knew better than to just buy what the cops had been telling us had been noticing certain oddities in the town” he persists, rolling with the gentle right turn in the road.

“It’s a small town and the killer knew the in’s and out’s of it so well that they had to be one of us. That was the conclusion we all came to, but the years that followed the killing made us seem like we were played for fools” Harlington concedes, shaking his head with disappointment, “years had passed and there was only the one killing. To any sensible mind, the killer came in and did his bidding before leaving- never to return.”

“Does that not make more sense than someone from a small town killing a boy and chopping him into pieces- only to never do such a sick thing ever again?” Beth queries, her challenge accepted by the car’s driver. “If you count out the idea that they could’ve gone out of the town to get their thrills- if that’s why they killed- then sure, it could make sense” Harlington assures, physically nodding at the conclusion, “but it also doesn’t entirely line up.”

“Nothing ever entirely lines up, that’s the point” Beth responds, reaching an argument that her kidnapper fails to find the full sense in, “everything in life is a massive grey area that people just pick a side to. If anything were cut-and-dry, there would be no divide.”

“Maybe that applies to the more mundane things, but that doesn’t really apply here” Harlington responds, shaking his head to visualise his disagreement with the statement. “This wasn’t just an argument. This was a little boy who was killed, chopped up into pieces, and no one ever stopped talking about it” Harlington corrects, following the path that the roadway leaves him, “there was no room for motivations or an inspection into the suspect’s mind- it was just clear cut evil.”

“If Avon’s book implied anything, it’s that what the woman did was out of more than just-” Beth quickly follows up, attempting to double down in arguing for her side’s triumph before being stunted, interrupted by the man behind the wheel. “It was clear cut evil... End of story” Harlington counters, looking away from the road for a moment to set his sights upon his kidnapped passenger, attention eventually making its way back, “that kind of evil doesn’t just come up once and then hide away.”

Though the man’s unlawful capture of her leaves Beth untrusting of the man’s nature, his yet-seen aggressive retort still proves surprising enough to be taken aback by. Failing to find the words that could stand her ground in the conversation, the woman’s mind instead takes elsewhere just as her eyes do, watching the flora that passes along the car ride’s journey.

“I figured they could’ve moved away in the years after the murder. Maybe they’d had a change of life, or they’d passed away, or they’d gone somewhere else, or-” Harlington explains, returning to his prior point before falling into a silent defeat, shaking his head with a loss for anything conclusive, “-I’d just figured there’d be something I could find to point to as a reason for why they’d never killed again.”

Keeping his eyes on the road ahead, the driver’s face is found by the eyes of the town’s runaway librarian, who looks toward him as he speaks with a newfound reservation. “Then Avon King came to Remedy Hills” Harlington confesses, a look of horror written across his face whilst his passenger draws her own conclusions at what he’s trying to say, “after thirteen years, another body was butchered.”

“Avon wasn’t in Remedy Hills thirteen years ago” Beth replies, her comment prompting the man’s face to turn and face her. “What? NO! I’m not saying Avon’s the murderer for fuck’s sake!” the man proclaims, casually smacking the top of his steering wheel with the base of his hand, “I was just using his arrival as a marker for the new murder.”

Triggering his turn signal like a proper driver, Harlington pulls the vehicle along the gravel driveway just beyond the point of a small cottage in the middle of nowhere, the sight of their new residency welcoming them with open arms. “And you think the person responsible for killing that boy thirteen years ago is responsible for the person that was killed when Avon came to town?” Beth questions, holding out hope that she’d finally come to understand one piece of her kidnapper’s mindset.

“I don’t have any reason not to. The way it was described to me was-” Harlington proceeds, again stunting himself from continuing to speak. Only able to watch as the sound of a gentle wind rolls through the tree leaves that surround them, Beth calmly waits for her captor to continue, able to see the faintest hint of distress in his face- the likes of which she can most liken to a struggle over saying parts out loud that are mostly kept to oneself.

“-It just struck me like a bad memory” the man finally confesses, powering down the car and removing the key from the ignition before climbing out. For a brief moment whilst her kidnapper walks around the front of the vehicle, Beth is left to sit within the mostly-numb quiet that follows, trying to uncover any meaning behind the manner in which Harlington speaks about the tragedies at hand.

= Remedy Hills is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 1 onwards =

“What the hell do you mean the answer was ‘no’, we’ve got every right to get a warrant!” Beau shouts, rolling his eyes and turning away once his superior scolds him. “Mr. Donovan, I will not have you raising your voice at me in my own damn office!” Dana proclaims, pointing her finger in the man’s direction whilst his older partner stands by, holding the same kind of outrage as his younger colleague, though doing a much better job at composing himself.

“Chief, we’ve done everything to code and have everything in place to request a warrant” Jake explains, doing so in a calmer tone than his partner is capable of offering. “The cabin used to be owned by Rico Martinez and the man that lives there used to be connected to him. It’s the closest thing to a physical address on the inmate that we can inspect” the older officer explains, “if that’s not good enough to request a warrant over, then I don’t know what the state of our justice system is.”

“As unfortunately sad as it is, the two of you are going to have to find a way to convince Harlington Spears to let you inside his property” Dana responds, returning the pair’s denied request to the more-composed cop. “Why don’t I just walk up to his door, politely ask to be let in again, and then aim my gun in his face until he obliges?” Beau retorts, receiving a pair of rolled eyes from those within his presence, “what!? It seems like that’s the kind of thing the judge wants me to do.”

“If he wants a reason to lock your hot-headed ass up, I wouldn’t find much in the way of a reason to blame him” Dana responds, pushing her seat back before climbing to her feet, “and even though I know you’re being facetious, Officer Donovan- never speak such a claim in my precinct again.”

“Tell the judge to get his head out of his ass and I wouldn’t have to” Beau responds, aware that he’ll get nowhere from this interaction enough to leave the room, not granted the permission to leave, but taking it anyway. “Officer Mansoor, please go keep your partner from taking his anger out on the water fountain” Dana remarks, her voice holding the weight of someone tired from the legal hoops she’s been meant to jump through, “the last thing I need is him running up an unnecessary bill.”

“Yes, Chief” Jake replies, bowing his head toward the woman as he turns around, just barely able to catch the door before it closes behind his partner in an attempt to follow after the younger cop. “It’s bullshit, Jake. I’m telling you, this is bullshit!” Beau remarks, angrily marching toward the interrogation rooms before approaching the wall at the back of the room, his partner’s quiet shadowing doing little to prevent his partner’s aggravations from rising.

“It’s like they tell you to do the job the right way and then handicap you every time you try and do it” Beau continues, his hands finding their way to his hips as he turns back, watching as his partner enters the room and closes the door. “It doesn’t matter if it’s bullshit, it’s the process and we’ve got to suffer with it” Jake explains, walking over to the microphones and switching them off, “if we’re gonna do our jobs, we’re gonna have to deal with the red tape that litters the place.”

“Why the hell would the warrant be denied? That might be the most solid, open-and-shut request that’s ever been issued in the history of everything!” Beau questions, cutting the distance between himself and his colleague in half as he steps forward. “It doesn’t matter why it got rejected. The fact of the matter is that’s what happened and there’s nothing we can do about it” Jake corrects, refusing any answer worth considering over means beyond their control.

“The question that we’ve got to find an answer to now is how we get in that house without the warrant” the older officer explains, directing their collective focus toward more worthwhile avenues, “Harlington Spears will not let us in out of the goodness of his own heart, so let’s see if we can do a little bartering with him.”

“What? Like cut him a deal?” Beau queries back, the silence that he’s initially met with leaving him little in the way of a reply to take from the suggestion. Looking off to the corner of the room, the younger cop searches through his mind in an effort of finding an olive branch to extend, only for the realisation he’d already made to re-centre itself upon his mind. “Jake, I don’t know a goddamn thing about the guy” the hot-headed detective explains, “what would he want that we’d have?”

“I’m not sure, but we’ve got a whole car ride to figure that out” the older officer responds, laying out the mental ground for himself and his partner to traverse. Without much of a reason to dismiss the proposition, Beau shrugs his shoulders and steps past his partner, leading the collective journey back the way they’d come from and toward the cruiser they’ve grown increasingly more well-attached to.

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“Penny, hi!” Poe proclaims, lifting his hand into the air to greet the woman who approaches him, a knitted sweater worn over a blue top and a pair of dark grey pants, the slits which her legs spill out from tucked into her winter, fur boots. “It’s nice to see you” Penny replies, her left hand holding onto the strap of her burgundy purse as her right side leans against the man, offering him a half hug that’s nearly impossible to confuse with something romantic or personal.

“When Anne told me that I should call you, I have to admit- I was a little hesitant” the man confesses, lowering himself into one side of a booth whilst his acquaintance occupies the other end. “Really? Why?” the woman inquires, genuinely curious to hear such an admission of near-practice, “was I that off-putting in the bar that night?”

“No, no- you were very cordial” Poe replies, assuring her otherwise with an entertained grin, his hands coupled together atop the table they now share as waitresses step past them with trays for other guests. “I just didn’t want to come off seeming like I was trying to swoop in on someone who’s already happily married, y’know?” the man clarifies, his head slightly hung as he looks toward their table’s surface, trying to conceal his guilt, “that’s not the kind of person I am.”

“I was never under the assumption that you were” Penny reassures, not wasting much in the way of time before lending the man a spirit-lifting boost of consolation. “I know there are plenty of people who say that’s not who they are but couldn’t be more full of shit, but I don’t take you to be someone like that” she remarks, watching the pleased expression take its hold on the man’s expression as his chin lifts higher, “if I’m being honest, that’s the reason I agreed to this lunch.”

“That’s a real big relief, believe me” Poe replies, nodding to the woman as their server approaches, handing off her tray to another waitress before retrieving a notepad from her apron to take their order.

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“Mr. Spears!” Beau calls out, repeatedly slamming his fist against the door that he awaits an answer from, his head bowed toward the ground whilst his partner stands by, thumbs slipped into the belt his holster is attached to as he waits just as the man beside him does. “It’s your favourite cop buddy here with that warrant you wanted!” the younger cop proclaims, smiling through the corner of his mouth whilst chewing his peppermint bubblegum, “why don’t you come on out and open the door?”

Surveying the peaceful scene that surrounds them, Jake stares off at the woodlands their cabin resides within and squints, continuing to hear his partner’s call out whilst the environment’s cool breeze captivates him. “Oh, Mr. Spears!” Beau continues, remaining as animated as a children’s movie in the delivery of his request for attention, pleading for those within to grant him at least the time of day, “I know you loved looking at this handsome face, Mr. Spears. Come out and get another look.”

Nearly bringing himself to laughter with his each proclamation, Beau watches on as his partner steps away from the home’s modest front patio, still waiting for an invitation from the man within to check the premises. “Did you notice a car out here earlier?” Jake questions aloud, back turned toward his colleague as he stares out at the forest, taking a notice of the tire tracks that lead across the dirt and away from the two spots they’d initially parked their cruiser in.

“Yeah... ours” Beau replies, meeting the man with a level of sarcasm that prompts the older officer to turn back, looking at his partner from over his shoulder, “no, I did not see a car out here earlier... Unless you’re talking about ours.” Looking back toward the trail in the dirt, Jake follows the set of tracks with his eyes away from the property’s entrance before noticing their lead being taken around the quaint, middle-woodlands home.

“Come on, Mr. Spears! I really don’t want to have to kick your door in!” Beau calls out once more, returning to his prior efforts whilst his colleague does as he pleases, investigating whatever is left for his eyes to follow, “I’ve been on my feet all day long! Don’t make me have to use them even more!”

Waiting for a reply that remains as elusive as a mild-mannered Beau does, the officer ceases his attempts for a moment whilst his eyes watch on at the older cop’s gradual retreat along the ground’s markings. Without uttering a word, Jake begins to wander across the dirt lot and toward the side of the home, continuing to keep his eyes glued in the direction of whatever remains ahead whilst his partner watches on from afar.

“This is your last chance to see my pretty face voluntarily, Mr. Spears!” Beau proclaims, again pounding his fist against the front door just as his colleague vanishes around the side of the home, “if you don’t answer this door, I’m going to have to kick it in!” Unsure of what his partner is up to, the younger officer awaits his fellow cop’s return before acting upon his threat, uncertain as to what the older man will find in his travels.

Reserving his voice, Beau waits for another few seconds as the sound of his partner’s presence ceases to meet his ears, falling behind the shroud of uncertainty that’s left with the void of his friend’s appearance. After a few seconds longer, the sound of footsteps pressing down on dry dirt commences once more, drawing in the opposite direction from the one his colleague had travelled in.

Rounding the corner and back to the home’s frontward-facing exterior, Jake extends his arms out at either side and calls back. “He left his garage door open and tire tracks are leading away from it” the older cop proclaims, watching as his younger colleague rolls his eyes and looks away, “he’s gone.”

Sucking on the corner of his mouth for just a moment, Beau nods to himself as the information settles with him, a sudden thought dawning upon his mind as if a lightbulb had gone off within his head. Squinting, the younger cop retreats from the cabin’s front patio and inspects the building’s face, unable to find the small outliers from the old school design in which the construction had been finished.

“What are you doing?” Jake queries, watching as his partner leans back for a better view of the home’s presented side. “I’m quite positive that- for someone who seems hesitant to trust the police- he probably lacks the modern surveillance methods that a possible criminal would have, if you know what I mean?” Beau replies, stepping forward once more toward the patio’s side, retrieving a stone from a small flowerbed purposefully lining the building’s front.

“You’re saying he doesn’t have security came-?” Jake wonders aloud, stopping himself from speaking as he finds his partner’s hand pulling back, its forward-sail launching the rock he’d picked up through the window just beside the front door. “Hey! What the hell did you do that for!?” the older cop exclaims, arms held outward as his partner retreats from the cabin, standing along his colleague’s side whilst looking toward the sky and whistling.

“Whoopty-doopty-doo. Gee, it sure is a wonderful day to sit back, relax, and enjoy the- Oh my god!” Beau comically exclaims, looking around the forest before setting his eyes upon the shattered window he’d left behind, “Officer Mansoor! It looks like this homeowner’s been the victim of a B-and-E!”

Realising what the detective had taken liberties of his own in accomplishing, Jake chuckles as his hands meet his hips, his head hanging as it shakes. “It seems like our duty to protect and serve our community must be put into practice right now!” Beau proclaims, retrieving his pistol from the holster at his side before running forward, making his march toward the front door, “don’t worry, law-abiding-citizen! We’re here to-!”

Interrupting himself whilst his colleague remains behind cackling in amusement, Beau leaps through the air to deliver a karate kick into the door’s absolute centre, firing it into the home without any issue whatsoever. “-save you!” the young cop concludes, aiming his pistol into the depths of the home before lowering his guard, not fearing for his safety in the slightest as he follows through with his prior warning in a whisper, “alright, Mr. Spears... Here’s my pretty face for ya’.”

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“Thank you” Poe remarks, paying the server his compliments before reaching his wallet and slipping his hand into the slit that his cash resides in, only for the woman across from him to gently pull the waitress back. “Here you go” she proceeds, handing the woman her debit card and the cheque book she’d left at the table’s centre, though just slightly closer to the man.

“Are you sure?” the waitress queries, watching the woman’s light squint reply to her as Poe looks on without moving, his index and middle fingers already holding together a few crisp, fifty dollar bills. “What do you mean? It’s a cheque- of course I’m sure!” Penny cheerfully quips, knowing what the server had tried to get at without interest in it, sending the woman on her way to the back whilst the conversation between the two parties commences once more.

“I would’ve paid, y’know?” Poe questions, a gesture that the woman refuses to doubt even discounting the wallet he still holds in his hands. “I know, I’m just not really interested in coming off like I only came out here for a free meal” Penny explains, watching the man’s head pull back just slightly, “I’m not insinuating that you thought that, I just don’t want to come off that way with someone that- with all due respect- I don’t think I’ll be seeing a whole ton of.”

Taken by surprise, the man’s head leans to the side as his lips press together, trying to part with a question that just seems to evade him at the moment. “Listen, Poe. I think you’re a really good dude with a good heart and a good head on your shoulders. I think plenty of people are lucky to have you in their lives, and I’m sure many more will in the future” Penny explains, trying to best present her case.

“I’m a nurse. I work in the only hospital in Remedy, and it’s always got me running around and doing something” she continues, watching the man’s steady face remain held upon her, “when it isn’t and I have some kind of free time, nine times out of ten- it’s spent with my husband.” Bowing his head, Poe holds his hands toward the woman as a way to visualise his understanding.

“No worries, I get it” Poe responds, quickly doing his best to slide out from the booth and leave the interaction with as much decency and reason as he can manage, “I’ll see you around.” Even with as much credit as she’d given the man, Penny is left slightly surprised at the ease in which the conversation had come to an end, a much friendlier and understanding conclusion made than even what she’d best hoped for.

Reclaiming his light jacket from the seat, Poe makes for the restaurant’s exit as his acquaintance remains behind, waiting for the server to return with her copy of the receipt and the card she’d handed off. Politely skirting around patrons of the establishment that wait to be seated in the eatery’s entrance, the man digs his hand into his pocket and retrieves the phone within as he steps out of the building, the friendly visage he’d worn fading off as he presses the device to his ear.

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“Well, what do we have here?” Beau wonders aloud, continuing to hold his pistol by his side as he wanders down the steps to the building’s underbelly, peering over the bannister that guides him into the concrete-encased room. “It looks like somewhere I’d rather not find myself” Jake responds, following his partner into the depths of the home after sticking a piece of tissue paper into the deadbolt’s hinge.

“Do you think this thing was put into use or was it mainly just for show?” Beau queries, looking around the room to find very little of interest, a few flat, cardboard boxes left sitting in one corner with nothing other than the chairs to capture their interest. “He couldn’t have left any more than a few hours ago” Jake replies, finally making it to the ground that his partner already travels, their journey carrying them to the seats left in the centre of the room.

“The seats don’t feel warm. I mean, they’re metal folding chairs. I know they retain heat, but not for very long” Beau remarks, dropping to his knee before the nearest seat to his partner before inspecting it. “It looks like there were two windows. I saw one of them when I rounded the house” Jake explains, pointing in the direction of the one his eyes had captured before glancing toward the opposite side of the room, “the pillows in them look like they were left there for a reason.”

“Well that isn’t a good look” Beau remarks, earning a nod from his partner as if the comment were made toward the discovery of the pillows at each end of the room, only to find a completely different reason carried in the younger cop’s hand. “Do you think we have a fan of Mr. King’s?” the hot-headed officer queries, holding up “The Garden Manifesto” cover for his older colleague to take a look at.

“Why would Harlington Spears have a copy of Avon King’s book sitting in the middle of his basement?” Jake questions aloud, watching as his partner’s lips part in order to answer the inquiry, only to stunt it with the extension of his hand. “I’m not asking that as a literal question, Beau. I’m more interested in the motivation” the older officer clarifies, “it could be Rico Martinez’ assuming he was here, but even then- what reason would either of them have to own one of his books?”

“Well, do you know what “The Garden Manifesto” is about?” Beau inquires, watching his colleague’s chin shake whilst his shoulders shrug. “I’m not opposed to Mr. King personally, but I find his books to be kind of shitty” Jake confesses, only for his comments to take a backseat to the shocking conclusion he draws, one prompted by the look that his younger colleague gives to the cover, “hold on a minute, do you!?”

“Is the fact that I read some books from time to time really that shocking for you?” Beau questions, taking humour in the bewildered conclusion that his elder partner proceeds with. “You!? Absolutely!” Jake retorts, watching as his partner flips him the bird and chuckles, genuinely humoured, “no offence meant, Donovan. You’re just a young dude who has more abs than he has patience. I’d imagine you’d be trying to pick up women at a bar, not sitting back and reading a murder mystery.”

“I love my job, what can I say?” Beau sarcastically replies, groaning as he lifts himself off a knee and back upon both feet, “The Garden Manifesto is about a woman who killed her family, chopped them up, and scattered their remains across town.” With a squint in his eyes, Jake looks off at the corner of the room in an attempt at trying to find the similarities; it seems like his mind is meant to wander toward.

“Aside from the chopped into bits part, none of that has any meaning to me” the older cop confesses, taking the novel into his hand as his young partner hands it over. “Avon wrote the book to detail the mind that the woman must’ve had in the weeks that followed. She acted all crazy and shit, made herself the prime suspect and then committed suicide by burying herself in her flower garden with a note on top” Beau explains, “it’s some sick shit, but it’s more of a mental dive.”

“Again, Beau... What does this have to do with this sterile book club arrangement Mr. Spears has got going on down here?” Jake questions, struggling to find the train of thought his partner follows before realising that there is none. “I have no idea, but I’m inclined to find out” Beau confesses, turning to look back at the seats, “he’s got two chairs and one of Avon’s books. How much do you want to bet the other chair had Rico Martinez sitting in it?”

“Well, I was more assuming that Mr. Spears might have something to do with those guys in the smiley face masks that’ve been bothering Mr. King” Jake admits, the conclusion he’s reached not disregarded by the younger cop. “If that turned out to be the case and this solved just one of our mysteries, it wouldn’t surprise me” Beau concedes, “but we’ve got an inmate on the run, an acquaintance of his who’s now nowhere to be found, and some things to draw my favourite kind of lines between.”

Shrugging as Beau pats the base of the staircase’s bannister, Jake follows the younger cop’s lead as they prepare for their departure, leaving behind a home that still wields mysteries they’ve yet to uncover- if not having already introduced a new one. With the closing of the basement’s doors, the home is left to the quiet peace that comes with the lack of an inhabitant whilst the officers direct their cruiser back toward the main road, looking for answers to even newer questions.

== Remedy Hills ==