She thought about her husband Charlie. Had he tried to call her? Was he getting worried? How soon before he contacted the police? She usually called him when she got off the plane but not always. Sometimes she was in a rush, late for the meeting, and didn’t call him until that night. He probably thought that was the reason for her delay. There would be no police search, at least not for a while. Didn’t the police always insist people wait for twenty-four hours before someone was declared missing? Would it even make a difference if the search started right now? How would they find her out here in the woods?
The day seemed to last forever. There were no sounds except the wind rustling through the trees.
The sun was now low in the sky, and she knew that darkness would soon follow. She didn’t think she could bear to spend the night in this place, but she had no other options. She tried to go to sleep and escape in her dreams. But her back was now in muscle spasms, and she couldn’t get comfortable enough to drift off.
After the sun went down she saw the man in black appear. She recognized him as the man on the road. He walked through the woods carrying a burlap sack. The black hood was pulled over his head, and she couldn’t make out the details of his face even though he was standing just several feet in front of her. His presence was terrifying. She long ago gave up hope she would survive this ordeal. Of course she mourned her imminent death, but she was more upset for her daughter. It would be terrible for her to lose a mother at such a young age. And then there was her husband Charlie. How would he handle the loss? Could he raise their daughter on his own? What things would they experience in this life that she would miss? She always felt like she had all the time in the world. She thought of all the things she had put off until tomorrow. Now there would be no tomorrow. She began to wonder if there was life after death. Would she come face to face with God or would there be only darkness? Would she dream, and would those dreams, good or bad, last an eternity?
The man stopped at one of the trees in front of her and ran his gloved finger across the deformed face of one of the mannequins. He stared at it for several moments as if he was silently communicating to it. He then looked up the trunk of the tree and stared at the night sky. It was clear, and the stars were bright, millions of them.
The man in black turned back to Sara. She looked right at him. She was scared, but she wouldn’t turn away. She wanted him to look into the eyes of the person he was about to murder. She was a real human being. She meant something. She had a family who loved her, and she would be missed. She wanted him to know that this was a horrible thing he was doing. She may not be able to make him pay for his actions, but she had no doubt he would one day. He would burn for what he had done to her.
The man walked over to her and stood at the edge of the wooden box. He looked down at the burlap sack in his hand and then back up at Sara.
“If he lets you live the night, I’ll set you free,” the man in black said.
He held the burlap sack over the box and turned it upside down. A snake tumbled out of the bag and landed on the ground. Sara instinctively tried to pull away, but she couldn’t move. The wooden barricade around her kept the snake close.
There was no way it wouldn’t bite her, she thought. This was the end.
The man in black turned away and walked back in the direction he had come. The snake curled up in the corner of the box. Its head faced Sara. She looked at the snake and saw its cold black eyes. It seemed to look back at her, but she couldn’t be certain.
Sara looked up at the stars. She saw the constellation Orion. It was the only one she knew. It always appeared so bright during the winter. She remembered standing in her old backyard with her father and having him point out Orion to her. Later she was the one pointing it out to him first, and that always made her father smile. He had died a few years ago, and tonight she felt his presence. Was he there watching over her? Had he come to escort her into the afterlife?
Suddenly a sort of peace came over her. Even in this terrifying place, she remembered the love her father had for her. She had the same love for her child. It gave her body warmth.
She looked down at the snake. It was still staring back at her. Its tongue flicked in and out of its mouth. Was it talking to her? What was it saying?
It moved for her, but she was no longer afraid.
Kendra Martin sat on the center of the bed and passionately kissed the other woman. At least she hoped it looked passionate. Bob Ingalls stood behind a video camera and watched the action through the flip-out view-finder. Bob never said anything. When the little red light on the camera turned on, he just nodded for them to begin. He never touched himself either. Kendra assumed he did that when he got home and watched the video.
Kendra ran her fingers through the other woman’s hair and kissed her again. She glanced towards the door of the motel. When the hell were those cops going to get here?
She had done her best to appear somewhat interested when she called Bob back on the phone. But she didn’t think she was a very good actress. Bob was smart. She could see it in his eyes. Had he figured out she planned to betray him? Would he kill her before the cops arrived?
She kissed the woman again and then stole another quick glance to the door. Bob took his hand off the camera and walked towards the bathroom. Had he seen her look for the cops? He had never walked away from one of their video sessions before. Kendra continued to kiss the woman. She heard the bathroom door shut and thought she heard the lock engage.
Then she heard the key card beep in the electronic lock of the main door of the room. The door flew open, and several members of the SWAT team flooded inside. The other woman screamed and covered herself with the tattered bed sheet. Kendra had not told her of the sting operation.
Kendra didn’t think to cover herself from the cops. She was too worried about Bob Ingalls getting away somehow. She didn’t talk to any of them. She was scared Bob might hear her and know she was the one who had ratted him out. So she silently pointed to the bathroom door.
The largest of the cops ran over to the door and smashed it open with the heel of his foot. The frame splintered and the door swung open. A second cop pointed his gun into the bathroom. But it was empty.
Bob Ingalls fell to the ground. He had barely squeezed through the window of the bathroom. His gut told him something was different about Kendra. She had never been warm to him before. But she never looked scared either. He could hear the fear in her voice when they spoke on the phone. At first he felt a thrill from it. Maybe she was worried he would cut her again. That made sense to him. He found that he liked her being afraid of him. She should be afraid. They all should be. He wasn’t someone they should mess with. No one should mess with him.
But then he thought it might be a trap. Had she planned to try to get even with him for the cut on her arm? Had she asked a friend to help her hurt him? He knew he shouldn’t risk it. But the thrill of her fear excited him, and the lure to be near her was too powerful. Kendra was one of his favorites. It would be worth the risk to watch her perform for him again. He may even cut her again.
But Bob knew it was a trap once he got to the room. Kendra was definitely not herself. She was clearly afraid, but she was also trying to be nice to him. Then he noticed her eyes. She had looked at the hotel door several times. He knew someone was coming for him. He needed to get out, but the performance was also important. He needed to capture the performance on video. He needed the video desperately. He needed to create his art. She looked at the door one more time, and Bob’s better sense had finally won out.
Bob ran down the back of the motel and made his way towards a large dumpster. If he could make his way past it, it just might block their view of him escaping over the hill that ran the length of the motel parking lot.
Bob ran across the open lot. He had just ten more feet to go before he reached the dumpster. Bob saw a large shadow out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw that cop coming directly at him. It was the man from the other day. Th
e parking lot light was behind the cop, and it cast a hideous shadow that only grew longer the closer he got to Bob.
Marcus slammed into Bob hard, knocking him off his feet and back to the cold pavement. It was a vicious tackle that drove the wind out of Bob’s lungs. He tried to gasp for air, but Marcus slugged him in the stomach before he could draw a full breath. The pain was sudden and immense, and he felt like he might suffocate from the lack of oxygen.
Marcus struck him again. This time it was a blow to his jaw. Bob felt his teeth clamp down hard on his tongue. The blood began to fill his mouth, making it even more difficult to draw a breath.
Marcus hit him again and again. The punches wouldn’t stop, and his eyes began to glaze over.
“We got him.” Bob heard a female voice say. “We got him.”
The punches finally stopped, but he could still feel the cop’s weight on top of him. Then he lost consciousness.
CHAPTER 19
The Interrogation
Marcus and Angela watched Bob Ingalls on the video monitor. He was handcuffed to the table in the interrogation room. No one else was in the room with him. There were cuts and bruises on his face from the beating Marcus gave him, and his left eye was beginning to swell shut. Marcus assumed he would catch tremendous grief over the excessive force, but so far no one had said anything to him.
Angela turned to Marcus. She looked worried.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
Marcus nodded, and they headed inside.
Marcus was always impressed by Angela’s ability to hide her fears and doubts and display complete and unwavering confidence. He knew she got nervous before an interrogation. The truth is they didn’t have any hard evidence that proved Bob Ingalls was the killer. It might all come down to their ability to make him talk. But if Ingalls was smart, there wasn’t much they could do to make him open his mouth.
Angela walked across the tiny room and sat down opposite Bob Ingalls. Marcus stood in the corner and folded his arms. They had both been surprised at how small Ingalls was. The guy couldn’t be much taller than five foot five, and he looked like he didn’t weight more than a hundred and thirty pounds. Could this really be the person who was butchering those girls? But then they looked into his eyes. Something in them wasn’t right. They were cold and lifeless, like the dead snakes they found wrapped around the victims’ necks.
Angela sat stone-faced. But inside she was shaking like crazy.
“You shot at a police officer, Mr. Ingalls,” she said.
Ingalls still had not made eye contact with her. He hadn’t looked at Marcus either, not even when they walked through the door. He just looked down at the table that was between Angela and him.
“An innocent person with nothing to hide doesn’t shoot at the police,” she continued.
“I didn’t know you were the police,” he said.
“You didn’t hear me yell ‘police?’”
“I was sleeping. It all happened so fast.”
“Who did you think was knocking on your door?”
“My house got broken into last week.”
“You thought we were the thieves?”
“Something like that.”
“What kind of thieves knock on the door?”
“They took something valuable from me.”
“What did they take?”
“A video.”
“What was on the video?”
Bob finally took his eyes off the table and looked at Angela. But he didn’t say anything. He just stared at her.
“What was on the video, Mr. Ingalls?”
Bob still didn’t answer, and his silence unnerved Angela. Marcus recognized her tension building.
“But then they returned it.”
“Maybe you misplaced it.”
“No, never. I know exactly where my videos are. Someone took it and brought it back.”
“We found your set-up in the bedroom.” Marcus said. “How long have you been doing your little video shoots?”
“I pay them. I don’t even touch them.”
“Eva Parks. Julia Davis. Carrie Dempsey. All of these women were on your videos, and all of them are now dead,” Angela said.
“Dead?” Ingalls asked, actually sounding surprised.
“You expect me to believe you didn’t know that?” Angela asked.
“I didn’t know they were dead.”
“Why did you run from us? What’s the real reason if it wasn’t because of those girls?” Marcus asked.
“I told you already. I thought you were him.”
“Him?” Angela asked.
“He follows me. When I pick up the girls, I see him in the shadows.” “What does he look like?” Angela asked.
“He wears black. All black. And he wears a hood over his head so I can’t see his face.”
“Convenient,” Marcus said.
“I think he’s the one who stole my video.”
“And who is on the video?” Angela asked.
Ingalls looked at her with his dead eyes.
“You,” he said. Then he smiled.
Sergeant Ramsey watched the interrogation on the video monitor outside the room. He had heard everything, and like Marcus, he admired Angela’s ability to keep her emotions under control. She had not even flinched when Ingalls said he had a video of her. They all knew it was a lie, a lame attempt to throw her off balance. It had failed.
“We spoke to a woman who said you cut her,” he heard Angela say on the monitor’s speakers. “Like you cut Carrie Dempsey. She said you like to hurt women.”
“That’s not true,” Ingalls replied. “I never touch them. That would be wrong.”
Ingalls looked at Angela with confusion in his eyes.
“Where is my lawyer?” he asked. “I thought you were going to get my lawyer.”
“You never asked for a lawyer. We said you had the right to have one present.”
“Then I want my lawyer.”
“Fine. We’ll get you a lawyer.”
Angela stood up. The interrogation was over. She had gotten next to nothing.
Sergeant Ramsey turned from the monitor and watched Angela and Marcus walk towards him.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“Hard to say,” Angela said.
Angela turned back to the monitor and watched Ingalls sit alone in the room. He was just staring out into space.
“Let him stew for a while, realize the shit he’s in,” Sergeant Ramsey said.
“We know he did it. I’m not buying that bullshit about someone following him,” Marcus said.
He turned to Angela.
“And that garbage about having a video of you. Everything he said in there was total crap.”
Angela turned to the monitor again. This time Ingalls was staring right into the lens of the security camera inside the interrogation room. He smiled at the exact moment that she had turned to the monitor as if he knew she was now looking at him.
“If he didn’t kill those girls, he certainly knows who did,” she said.
CHAPTER 20
Woman of the Light
Journal Entry: Outside Rome, October 17, 1948
The knock on the door came about two hours after the sun rose. Then she called out for Alda. “Was she home? Why hadn’t she seen her in the market?”
I didn’t know how I would explain my presence in the house. Or should I simply hide? I cursed myself for not having locked the door on the previous night. She would undoubtedly open the door and look for her friend. But what if she didn’t? What if she simply walked around the house, expecting to find her friend in the back yard? She would see the mound of dirt and know something was wrong.
Then I realized the opportunity. She came looking for a friend. She was worried. She was showing compassion to a loved one. Surely she would be one who lived in the light.
I listened for the voice. Would it tell me what to do? Would it demand that I take her face?
I heard the door open
and her footsteps creak on the floor boards. She called out Alda’s name again. I held my breath, convinced that even the sound of my lungs expanding and contracting could easily be heard.
I was in the kitchen. Would she come here first? If she went to the bedroom first, she would see the blood-covered mattress. But she didn’t go to the bedroom. She headed straight for me. I had grabbed a knife off the kitchen table the second after I heard the door knock. I had my back pinned against the wall beside the door. She entered the room and walked right past me.
She stopped a couple of steps into the kitchen and looked at the display of knives on the table. I could almost feel the fear enter into her body. She knew something was wrong and turned to leave. That was when I thrust the knife into the base of her throat.
She tried to scream but the blade in her neck made it impossible. She fell backwards and the blade slide out of her throat since I had not released my grip on it. She started to convulse on the floor of the kitchen. The floor was covered with white tile and the blood showed brightly on it. She grabbed her throat to try to stop the flow of blood, but there was no stopping it.
I kneeled down beside her and looked into her eyes. She looked at me and tried to get away, but she was too weak and stunned by this point. I couldn’t tell if she had the light in her. I would have to wait and see as the voice instructed.
After she bled out, I picked her body off the ground and placed her on the table. I pulled her long hair away from her face. There had been so much blood on the floor that it got all over her cheeks and even up her nose. I found a cloth near the kitchen sink and soaked it in water. Then I carefully wiped the blood away until she looked beautiful again. Only the small incision in her throat was out of place.
I grabbed the smallest knife I had and started cutting away near the base of the jaw. I did my best not to rush, although I must admit that I was terrified someone would walk in at any moment and catch me in the act. It took several hours for me to remove the skin, but I was able to get it off in one piece. There was a little tearing at the edges, but it was tremendously better than my last attempt.
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