EC-01: Ray Walker

From Irina DiSanti’s encounter reports.

Friday, 24 Jun 2011
Devereaux-Shields House B&B
Natchez MS
2345hrs, local time

I watched Ray leave, his stride eating up the ground between the porch and his waiting car with a predator’s grace. Again I was reminded of a Doberman straining against its leash and wondered what he’d seen in service and out of it. That kidnapping case … did he really mean what he said or was he just yanking my chain, a cross-profession joke? The hostess asked me something and I snapped back to the present.

“Yes, thank you,” I said, pulling what she’d said from memory. “Some iced tea would be lovely. It was a warm ride getting here.”

The hostess beamed and showed me up and promised she’d send the tea to my room when it was ready. I sized her up as I followed her. Caucasian, grey on green, 5’-0”, 90 soaking wet, sweet smile. The trip up the stairs was short, the room was at the rear of the house, and the accommodations were lavish. In less than ten minutes I had my feet up in bed with a cold drink in hand. I took a long pull on my glass and then pulled my laptop into my lap and booted it up. I wanted to write up my ride with Ray while the details were fresh. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and made everything in my head go still. I pulled up the memory of our time together and started typing. As usual, I inserted my personal observations as parenthetical remarks and put any direct statements in bold. Anything else of note would get italicized.

Personal

• Ray Walker, ex-Marine
  
• Blonde on blue, 6’-2”, 220, Caucasian, military cut on hair, no glasses
  
• Has gold USMC ring (right ring), plain silver band on (left index), expensive watch
  
• Light colored polo shirt, sunglasses hanging in buttonhole, shorts, leather topsiders
  
• West Coast accent, maybe Midwestern Rockies, faint
  
• The man is in good shape but pale
  
• (Doesn’t seem to be bothered by the heat. Don’t think I ever saw him break a sweat.)
  
• Suffers from brain injury: unable to resist the impulse to verbalize internal narration. Refers to himself in 3rd person limited, past tense, when narrating. Uses a different tone of voice when he does it. Admits he cannot stop himself and would have a hard time lying.
  
• Verbalization count: 9 times from airport to drop off at B&B
  
• Has verbalized: "Ever since he was a little child, Ray had been filled with wonder every time he looked at the stars. And despite all that he had seen, both in service and out, those twinkling lights still made him feel that way. They were his one connection to the childhood he long since had left behind."
  
  

Professional

• VP Head of Security at The Franklin Agency
  
• He’s seen combat in the military
  
• Stationed at Camp Pendleton. Oceanside, CA
  
• He’s been overseas.
  

Meeting

• Has verbalized: “That overseas time was what had ended up putting Ray here, out of the service. But sitting in a fast car next to a beautiful woman wasn’t a bad way to end up.”
  
• (Seems sincere in his compliment.)
  
• Believes people are the same no matter where you go.
  
• Mentioned a bunker in Iraq. "But sometimes, the Good Lord has plans for us. I didn't want to be trapped in that bunker in Iraq, but it happened and it led me to a place I wouldn't have gone otherwise."
  
• Has verbalized: "And Ray had seen things too that he wouldn't have gotten see otherwise. Things beautiful, things scary, things he wouldn't have believed existed before hooking up with Marcus. But in the end, he was doing good and that was all that mattered."
  
• (Who is Marcus Stone and why does Ray hold him in such apparent high esteem?)
  
• Ray was looking into a missing persons case for a friend when they crossed paths.
  
• "We were both working a case, but at the opposite ends of it. I was looking for a missing girl for a friend of mine and Marcus was looking into dark cultists who believed that they could sacrifice their way to real power."
  
• Immediately verbalized: "As if power could be had that easy."
  
• "Not the best of endings, mind you. The girl was dead by the time we found her, but we stopped the cult. We both realized our strengths were good complements to each other and we've been working together ever since."
  
• When asked about the case—where? cops involved? when?—Ray answered: "Elsewhere." (calmly) "And the girl was unfortunately dead well before we found where the cult had hidden her away. The police were involved, as they would be in any kidnapping case, ma'am, but no offense to your previous position, but they're not really interested in tales of dark magic and human sacrifice. Complicates their world set too much."
  
• Immediately verbalized: "Ray understood. He hadn't expected what he had found either."
  
• (Does that mean he found dark magic and human sacrifice? Or just people who thought they were doing dark magic and human sacrifice?)
  
• (At which point, he pops a hard candy mint into his mouth. Apparently keeps a stash in car. Unwrapped it one-handed as he drove. Very smooth and practiced. Neat trick. Nervous habit? )
  
• (At which point he asked if going to a first-name basis was fine. I agreed)
  
• When asked when they stopped the cult, before or after the police closed the file, Ray stated: "We put them down, Irina, like the rabid dogs they were. They were well armed, fanatical, and stupid. A combination that when combined with selling their souls to the dark powers they worshipped....War calls for ugliness in the name of the greater good. We did what had to be done, what the authorities couldn't have done without serious loss of innocent life. No regrets."
  
  

I stopped and stared at the screen. I went over the list again. Was he yanking my chain or did he just admit to use of deadly force—and was it in self-defense or in defense of others or not? Repercussions varied on a state-by-state basis and without knowing where the case took place, it would be next to impossible to determine the severity of the crime. Assuming anything criminal happened at all. Come back to that later. Finish what’s in front of you first.

I continued typing.

• (At which point, he bites that damned mint in two and crunches it to nothing. Was I getting too close to a touchy subject? If so, why? Was it simply a distressing case to remember or was he hiding something? Or is this a method to suppress that verbalized narration, like a smoker chewing gum to stave off smoking?)
  
• When asked if taking the cultists out was a matter of a smaller team being better than a larger one—(I’m fishing for accomplices)—he said: "More along the lines of being better prepared for what we were getting into."
  
• Immediately verbalized: "Although it was true he worked better in a small group, Ray would've happily welcomed more bodies that time. But unprepared teammates meant dead teammates and that he didn't want."
  
• (What the hell does that mean? He and Marcus trained to take people like this out? They’ve lost team members before? How long have they been doing this?)
  
• At which point he deflects the conversation with: "But enough about me. I'm sure Marcus will fill you in on job details. I want to know what it was like in the NYC trenches."
  
• (I admit I told him my take on it—Balls to the wall, nothing held back. You could have used me as the recruiting video for the NYPD. I think it amused him.)
  
• Ray immediately stated: "I like someone who enjoys what they do. Must have made it that much harder though."
  
• (God, he has no idea. I told him how much.)
  
• He immediately verbalized: "Ray understood. Being in the Marines had been his life and he hadn't planned to leave either. Most of the time Ray thought he was better off for it, for having had the decision taken out of his hands. And the days where he didn't? He had a new job to focus on."
  
  

I stopped and stared at my notes again, trying to piece it all together. There were parallels in his history with mine. We were both driven career animals and we were both forced to leave our careers due to something outside our control. I had been kidnapped and brutally assaulted for three days before I’d been rescued. Who or what rescued Ray? Did it have anything to do with being trapped in that bunker in Iraq? And just what was the nature of his new job that it could replace what he’d lost? It couldn’t all be fighting batshit cultists who murdered women, could it?

• Also stated during ride: "You okay with being set up at a bed and breakfast? They normally prefer you check in earlier, but we've done some business for the owner before."
  
• When asked what sort of business he and the Franklin Agency does, he stated: "Nothing dark and mysterious. We tend to do favors for the people in Natchez when possible. Part of being good neighbors. This one started off with a little lost dog, but it got complicated pretty quickly..."
  
• He immediately related a story about a Pomeranian that led to staging an elaborate con being run on several prominent Natchez citizens.
  
• (Tells a good story. Dry wit. Good timing. Inserts detail. Took about 20 minutes.)
  
• (Is there a way I can verify the case? Of course, I asked about the Pomeranian when we pulled up to the B&B and Ray admitted he didn’t know if the dog was still alive. It cannot be too long ago. The Agency is a young company. How long in Natchez?)
  
  

I resolved to see if I could access those records once I got the job. Surely they must keep records of their cases somewhere. I thought a moment and added:

• Has verbalized after inquiry on dog: "Ray had never exactly had a real close and friendly relationship with animals. They left him alone and he left them alone."
  
• (Is this significant? Animals are fairly accurate barometers of human character, when they choose to signal their findings. Which they do, albeit not all the time. Huh.)
  
• When asked if he’d be at the interview, he stated: "Besides the fact that I'd just get in the way, I've got some casework that needs to be done. But if you really like my company that much, I'll be driving you back to the airport on Sunday night."
  
• Immediately verbalizes: "Ray knew that he certainly wouldn't mind spending more time with her."
  
• (Had a slow smile when he said that. Definitely a compliment.)
  
• Carried my bag inside. Saw me checked in. I confirmed the Sunday pick up and he left.
  
  

I saved the file and backed it up to a thumb drive and shut my laptop for the night. Tea consumed and my insides sufficiently chilled by the beverage and AC, I got up to take care of the outside of me. Shower. Bed. In that order. My room was actually a suite taking up half the second floor of the small Victorian. In addition to the attached bath was a bay-windowed sitting room large enough for a second bed. God knew what the Agency thought I’d be doing with that much space over so short a visit. Ray’s slow smile came to mind and I shut it away with his file. Mixing business with pleasure was never a tidy combination. Larry had taught me that lesson early and my years as a cop made it clear: boundaries kept the ugliness at bay. You blurred them at your own risk.

That smile was anything but ugly, DiSanti, and the rest of him looks pretty good, too…

I stripped off my shirt and let it drop. Get a grip, you. It’s strictly business. So, shower. Bed. Sleep now. Dig tomorrow.

The shower was nice and hot. Thanks to the lateness of the hour, I didn’t have to compete with the other guests for the water. Lather, rinse, repeat. After the sticky weather and the cold tea, the shower felt good and I lingered under it. By some weird voodoo combination of hot water, soap and the time to think, my head started pulling out the details my debriefing had missed. The cool touch of Ray’s hand in mine came back to me. Cold hands, no sweat, dry as a bone. How anyone could be that cold in this heat didn’t make sense. How was it even possible? Low metabolism? What I could see of his physique suggested nothing of the sort, even with his pale complexion. And that was another thing—how could a guy as physically active as he apparently was manage to live down here without acquiring a tan?

I shut the water down and stepped out gripped by that old gut feeling from my days on the force, the one that told me that something didn’t fit, that something wasn’t what it seemed. I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t know if it was relevant to the matter at hand. I only knew it was odd and it was there. Annoying the living shit out of me. Sunday, I promised myself. I’d look further into things with Ray when he drove me to the airport.

Sleep, when it came, came quickly and for once I didn’t notice it when it did.

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