Case # 88 by Gary Martinsky (little red riding hood read aloud TXT) 📗

in flames. In the following images, the fire had been put out. An empty shell of soot was standing where the house once had. Several pictures of his car were there too. Some were apparently from a security camera overlooking the neighborhood. These photos must have been taken during his first visit to the house yesterday afternoon. Some pictures were from the explosion scene. Not much was left of the car and his unfortunate friend inside. He felt bad for Max. He didn’t deserve to go like this.

“Do you remember these, Finn? Your fingerprints were found in the house after some neighbors reported a possible break-in early this morning. And, just a couple of hours later, it goes up in flames! Coincidence?”

Finn was about to say something in his own defense, but the doctor continued in a firm but reassuring tone. “Finn… Do you remember this car? It was yours, wasn’t it?” He picked up two before and after photos.

“You had a manic episode and faked an elaborate attempt on your life. All to get rid of a perceived enemy that was, what was it, following you because you were trying to visit your parents in a house where they never lived? Your parents are dead, Finn. I’m sorry, but they have been for a while. And you know that. Deep down, you do. Trust me, I’m only trying to help you. You’re confused, and your actions are irrational, and you have to stay here with us until you get better. Our hospital specializes in rehabilitating ex-police officers with PTSD and related disorders. We will take good care of you here.”

Finn picked up a few of the photos silently, studying them one by one. “You expect me to believe that I, unknowingly, made a bomb and planted it in my own car?” He smirked. If anything, he was now sure beyond the shadow of a doubt that someone was after him. Only someone dedicated would go so far as to burn his house down and blow up his car. Was Dr. Russo a part of it, or was he really just trying to help, misled by the elaborate setup prepared by Finn’s unknown adversary?

“If you think hard, you might remember when it all began. Think back on your last assignment on the force. You received a serious brain injury and barely survived. That’s right, I know all about you. And I’ve seen countless good cops, like you, fall prey to their own damaged psyches.” Dr. Russo sighed tragically.

“I’m sorry, Doctor. It’s true that I was injured and couldn’t go back to work. I’ve been suffering from migraines ever since the accident, but I know I’m not crazy. You’ll have to do more than show me a couple of photos to convince me otherwise.” Finn crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for the doctor’s next move.

With another heavy sigh, Dr. Russo opened his folder again, regarding Finn with a pitiful gaze. “I wish there were another way. I know it won’t be easy to accept what you’re about to see, but trust me when I say that the sooner you accept my help, the better for you and everyone involved.”

He slowly pulled out another photo and handed it to Finn, who took it with a shaking hand. He looked in disbelief as the meaning of the scene captured on the colored printout slowly dawned on him. Could it be? No, it was impossible. But there was little room for doubt. In the picture, he, Finn, held an ambiguous package, crouching in front of the open door on the driver’s side of his car. He was wearing his brown leather jacket. It was the same outfit he’d worn for the past eventful days. The photo was taken in Manhattan, in the parking lot of his apartment building. And he was placing what looked inexplicably like an explosive underneath the seat of his own car.

“Luckily, we were able to act quickly and get in touch with your friend, Douglass Garnetti. He understood the situation and helped us apprehend you peaceably and deliver you to safety. Otherwise, who knows where your delusional fantasies could have led you? Trust me, I’ve seen many patients going down this road throughout my career. You’re lucky, Mr. Peterson. Very lucky.”

Finn was still holding the photo, trying to find anything in it that would convince him that Dr. Russo was lying. He had to be!

“What about the bomb mechanism? If I was the one who planted it, and in Manhattan before heading out to Alexandria, how come it didn’t explode until a day later?”

“It was a time bomb.” Dr. Russo took out a crime scene investigation report from the bomb squad. “People in your condition are capable of unbelievable mental and physical fits. You had timed the mechanism precisely to make it look like someone else was coming after you. And you timed the explosion precisely to the best moment to do that. You even made sure there would be plenty of witnesses. All to satisfy your fantasy and justify your paranoid actions. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth.”

Finn tried to keep his cool and meet Dr. Russo’s statement with a counterargument, but his confidence was rapidly leaving him as a scary realization slowly descended on him. Was it really true? He’d seen all kinds of mental disorders during his time as a police officer. If left untreated, many of them could take extreme forms, resulting in violent behavior. The unlucky sufferers would do horrible things to themselves, their loved ones, or complete strangers—all the while remaining absolutely convinced that they’re saving the world from some unknown enemy only they could perceive.

“And, speaking of witnesses, there was someone else with you at the time of the explosion. Wasn’t there, Mr. Peterson?”

Alexa was still sitting at the table of Dr. Trussel’s camping van. Holding her head in both hands, she was frantically trying to think of what to do next. Finn was supposed to get in touch