Jimmy raised one brow in a questioning look and began to rake his eyes over Kimberly’s skin. She could feel the scarring scrape of the tines. “Now, now, Agent Watson, I do believe I answered your question honestly, with no previously agreed upon part two. You owe me something.” His penis began to swell again as his brain sent the word to his arteries to open and let the blood flow in, he was growing in anticipation.
There was a dog bark again, from inside the house this time. “Do you have a dog?” Chris’s story of the role the dog played was fresh in her mind. It was unsettling.
“Is that another question? Because, if I answer it you’ll owe me two things,” Jimmy said. His attitude was positively gloating now.
Kim had no idea what had changed but she was certain that this psychopath suddenly believed he had the upper hand. Had he just decided to kill her? If so, then none of his answers would matter to him. She thought that was the most obvious conclusion. “You’re right, Jimmy, I owe you one.” She stood and slowly unbuttoned her blouse, allowing it to drape open on her, revealing her thin lace bra beneath and her still protruding nipples. At the same time, she took her left foot and touched the .38 strapped to her right ankle, just to make sure it was there; a child rubbing her security blanket when the boogeyman’s eyes glowed red in the dark.
“Are you cold dear? Should I turn the heaters on?” He laughed a sinister cackle. All pretense of his former charm was gone. The Dr. Jekyll had transposed.
Kimberly slid the blouse off her shoulder and it fell to the ground. She considered sitting, so that it would be easier to draw her gun if necessary, but remained standing instead, she was just too vulnerable in the chaise. “Next question,” she said. She didn’t know how many she had left, so she jumped from 1989 to last week. “Where is Emily Rovey? Surveillance video shows her in your car,” she lied, hoping she sounded confident, “and then she vanishes.”
Jimmy was no good at concealing his sudden realization that she really did know too much about him, his furrowed brows, and his squinted eyes. Just as suddenly the look on his face became one of resolution, and then the lechery returned with a lick of his lips, his mouth slightly open. He had no choice now, she thought, but he was still hoping he could fuck her. “She’s dead, sweetheart, dead and gone. You’ll never find as much as a hair of her.” He was not smiling now, it was more of a glare.
Kimberly considered going for her gun but wanted one more advantage. He was obviously getting psychotically aroused: The look in his eyes, the perspiration on his upper lip, the twitch in his left foot, not to mention the stiffness between his legs. She was certain his pupils were dilated although she couldn’t see them well enough, and his respiration would be shallow to match his increased heart rate. She reached behind herself, careful to take two steps back and put a little more space between them, she unhooked her bra.
Out of the corner of her eye, there was movement, movement that made her stop what she was doing, movement that made her skin tight. There was a woman there, an old, corpse-like woman with long scraggly gray hair in patches on her head. Now, the fine hairs on her arm were suddenly rigid and tingling with a fight or flight warning. Something about her was familiar but that was impossible, right?
As the old woman moved from the shadow into the light, her face was a one-two punch to Kim’s jaw and gut, she stumbled and lost her breath. She bore a striking resemblance to the foster parent who had sold her into the sex slave trade. Kim’s bra hung loosely from her arms and her breasts were exposed. As if to confirm her own suspicion that she had suddenly gone crazy, a dog followed the woman out of the shadows. She thought of Chris and the craziest parts of his story and here they were. This dog had been in Rocky Arbor State Park, he had been at Chris’s house, he had been in the park when the ten-year-old girl was killed. Kim knew why Jimmy had exhibited a sudden sense of conquest when he heard the dog bark: She was dead.
Jimmy stood up, his raging hard-on leading him to her, the look on his face was manic, he was dizzy with sexual intoxication. He stroked himself as he walked. He paused and reached his hands out, grabbing the front of her bra and ripping it down her arms and off. It dropped at her feet. The dog charged, wildly growling and barking, running furiously with a strength and speed that belied its aged appearance. Kim looked side-to-side, contemplating her escape but saw none. She dropped to her knee and struggled to withdraw her gun from the holster just as the pistoning jaws reached her, and passed her by. The dog stopped right in front of Jimmy, baring its teeth and blood red gums in a vicious growl, Jimmy stumbled backward sprawling into the chaise and bouncing off it onto the floor. The dog walked slowly to him now and positioned its head right above his, Jimmy’s urine ran down his leg.
The old woman pointed at the French Doors without words and Kimberly needed no further invitation. She grabbed her bra and shirt and ran to the door glancing back just once at the petrified body on the ground despite her fleeting thought of Lot’s wife. She was through the door and the house in a minute and stood for a moment outside on the top step, contemplating going back in, she might never have a chance like this again. She looked down at her half-naked body and then back towards the house, still debating the next step when her mind was made up for her. A scream chilled her, a man’s scream, Jimmy Vale’s scream. A moment of paralysis until she remembered who she was and what her obligation had to be, and then she drew her gun.
Kimberly turned and walked back into the house. She made her way slowly through the entryway, out towards the pool area, before remembering the balcony above it, she’d like that advantage. The stairs to her left were the most likely way there; she placed her heels at the bottom and rushed barefoot up, quietly with her handgun extended out in front gripped by both hands. Her trigger finger was on the guard not the trigger; training. She figured the room directly ahead at the top of the stairs was probably the one and she opened it. Double doors leading to the balcony were straight ahead. She quietly opened one of them and stepped outside.
The lights of the city in the distance would have been enchanting under different circumstances, it twinkled and glowed, alive in its ignorance. As she reached the rail, she looked down and rubbed her eyes, not believing what she was seeing. Her gun remained steady, pointed out in front and aimed at the pool. Jimmy Vale was in there once again, swimming strongly and quickly, no longer the sleek silent fish, his feet were kicking up huge splashes and every time an arm came over a shoulder it slapped down into the water. He had lost his balance or his composure or something, but not his life. No dog, no witch or whatever the fuck that thing was, just Jimmy: Nothing in the light and nothing in the shadows.
She spun quickly around, anticipating an ambush from the rear but found only the quiet darkness of his bedroom. She made a split-second decision to live to fight another day and hastened her exit. Grabbing her blouse and bra off the front porch, Kimberly headed down, pausing only to retrieve her shoes on the way to the car. Special Agent Watson drove out of the driveway and completely off the property, before pulling to the side of the road and putting her clothes back on.
Chapter XXXV
He had watched the house for three days, it was an easy house to watch from the seclusion of the nearby park. Sitting on the other side of College Point Blvd, he had seen his son exit his home three times in two days. The first time, yesterday, he thought he was looking back in time at himself, the boy was his twin. He had gotten into the car with his aunt and they drove away. It was a thirty-second glimpse. When the car was out of sight, he cried like he had never cried before, at least not like he ever remembered crying. When his wife had died, he was already numb from the events crumbling down on top of his life. He had focused all his grief on Conner, keeping vigil day and night at the hospital. By the time it was clear that his son was going to pull through, with no lasting physical problems, his wife was buried. He’d been sedated at the funeral, had not attended the wake, and went directly to the hospital from the cemetery. He hadn’t known how to grieve.
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Now, however, he was experiencing a period of revelation, growth, and refinement of his humanity and he owed it all to Kim. He didn’t know if his son called his uncle, Chris’s brother, dad, and his sister-in-law mom. He hoped not, but that was selfish, wasn’t it? His letter had proclaimed his death, it was a plea for them to go along with that plan, the fact that they might have done that should have made him happy and yet…
The second and third times he saw his son, the boy was carrying an aluminum bat and black leather baseball mitt, crossing the Boulevard to the park. The first time he had just watched Conner go, let him walk away without following. The boy walked tall and strong and confident. It looked as though his brother had done well. Then the next day, he did follow him. It turned out he had been attending practice for his little league team.
Chris took no pains to disguise himself, his son would not know him, probably not even if he spoke to him but that was a chance he wouldn’t take. He sat on a bench twenty or so yards from the field, close enough to see the smile on his son’s face and the life in his eyes, close enough to hear his voice. It sent chills through to his core the first time he heard it, like a cold arctic breeze suddenly blew through the perfectly still summer air away.
As he watched the boys play, the passing clouds caused the sun to alternately dim and then brighten the field. It was a surreal experience for him, made even more so by the familiar chirping nearby. He knew what it was before he even turned to locate the pretty female cardinal perched on a branch not ten feet away. It too appeared to be watching the boy on the field. “Hi Kelly,” he said to the cardinal. “He’s quite a boy, we made a good one.” The chirps echoed back his words. His heart felt good, sad, but good. He thought about telling her about Kimberly, asking her permission, but decided there was nothing there to talk about, except a dream.
The boy was tall and lanky with a good glove and an arm that threw perfect strikes from his shortstop position to the first baseman every time. He didn’t get to see the boy bat, today appeared to just be infielders working on turning double plays. He left before they were done, just after the cardinal flew away, and headed for a long walk through the park to the 7 train at Citi field. He was swollen with pride, even though he had not seen Conner since he was four, that was still his boy. Blood is blood, he thought. He knew he would try his damnedest to come back and see the boy. He had added incentive now to follow this through and close it out. The time for research and planning was over, it was time for action, time to do. Seeing his son made him think of the scene in Star Wars where Yoda tells Luke, “Do or do not, there is no try.” He would do.
Chapter XXXVI
“Okay mom,” Annie said into the phone, feinting annoyance but smiling at her friend Julia who was sitting topless on the bed and plucking stray eyebrows from her head with a pair of tweezers. Annie muted her phone, took a toke from the joint burning in the ashtray and held the smoke in for a few seconds before exhaling. She turned the volume back on.
Julia smiled back at her and yanked out a troublesome hair, dropping it deftly with the tweezers onto a paper towel on the bed next to her. It already contained about a dozen small pieces of toenail. Her left foot was up on the bed and there were cotton balls between each blue painted toenail that matched the electric blue of her short-cropped hair. There was a butterfly tattoo on her ankle. She was wearing denim shorts and nothing else. The left nipple of her small breasts had a gold bar piercing it and another tattoo was about six inches below her left armpit. This one was words; “freedom is a kite with no strings,” it was a line from a Jimmy Vale song. Julia prided herself on having sinistrality; left nipple, left ankle, left-handed, throws left, bats left. “My mom said the same thing,” she mouthed. She took a sip from the Chardonnay in her glass and put it back on the nightstand.
“Yes mom, I promise, I’ll text when I’m back in the room tonight. But don’t start calling me like a crazy woman if I’m not home by midnight. Sometimes the shows run late. Jimmy can play all night,” she threw a wink at Julia this time. Annie was sitting at a desk looking into a mirror that was propped against the wall, as she put the finishing touches of makeup on her eyes. Tucked into the lower left-hand corner of the mirror was a photograph of the two girls, naked and hugging. Her Samsung was on the desk and her Bluetooth headphones straddled her ears. A half-empty bottle of white wine rested against the mirror. She rolled her eyes at her friend. “Okay, I love you too mom. Tell dad I love him and give Jake a big hug for me.” She ended the call and took the headphones off. “What are you wearing tonight?” she asked her friend, “Goth or slut?”
“What’s the difference?” Julia laughed. “Actually, I was thinking sophisticated hooker, think I can pull it off with this?” she said, smiling, and pointing to her blue hair.
“You can pull anything off, you’re a born actor,” Annie said. “I’m going strictly sultry slut; low top, high bottom, nothing underneath,” she added, putting her hand in front of her open mouth to feint puritan shock.
“A woman on a mission…” Julia said. “Well, you’ve got the body to rock it.” Annie was what is usually referred to as full figured, she was tall, and muscular with large breasts and hips. Her smooth legs belied a life of athletics.
Annie pulled the photograph from the mirror, turned it over and wrote something on the back. She put it in her small Coach clutch.
The girls had been friends for two years, roommates at Boulder College their freshman and sophomore years and they now shared an off-campus apartment as the junior year approached. They were both starters on the Varsity Softball Team and the coach thought Julia had “as good a stick as anyone on the men’s baseball team.” Julia was a southpaw shortstop and despite her diminutive size, led the team in hits, runs scored and RBIs. She was second to Annie in home runs. Annie was an All-Star Catcher. They had both received a well-earned reputation as “party girls,” and were a must-invite to all successful campus parties.
“I love my mom, but she worries way too much,” Annie said.
“Believe me, I know the feeling but my dad’s the worrier. I think my mom gets it, you know, two girls sowing their oats need to have some fun before getting trapped by their professions-or their men-when they graduate. I think she was pretty wild in college too.”
“My parents are both like the anti-wild,” Annie laughed, as she pulled her black Under Armor tank up and off. “They constantly think I’m gonna get raped or abducted or something. Imagine if I was going to school in like, New York? They’d never survive it.” Beneath the tank was a red sports bra which she also took off. “I’m hitting the shower. What time should we leave? You need to get the Uber.”
“Better leave a little extra time, these seats are all the way up top, could take us half an hour to get up there,” Julia laughed.
“Don’t think for a minute, I’m staying up there. Two songs and we’re heading to the stage and glory. I need to see that monster up close.”
Chapter XXXVII
Jimmy had been masturbating twice a day since that fucking dog made him leave the FBI lady alone last week. That was the beginning of the end of their compact, he had decided. That fucker left him limp-dicked in a pool of his own piss and no one treated Jimmy Vale that way, no one. The bitch had now complicated his life in a way that would eventually end, in him taking her life, he knew they’d meet again but next time, he wouldn’t be thinking of the dog or the Cleaner. That had been his mistake, he knew it now, thinking that he needed them had brought them running. He didn’t know how, didn’t care to know how, it just worked that way, one of those things his brain controlled, like breathing. But the key to the whole process, he was beginning to realize, was him. If he didn’t think of those fuckers or summon them, they didn’t exist. He was the power in the compact, not them. Sure, they were all rough and tumble once they showed up but what if he made them not show up, what then? It made him relax and feel comfortable, it made him feel strong. He downed his third tequila shot, no salt, no limes.
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He was sitting backstage, listening to the hum of the crowd get louder and louder as the arena filled. This was one of his favorite places to play if the weather held up, and the forecast was for two perfect nights. He had just begun the last leg of a road tour that would bring him home in just six more days and he did not want to do another girl near home. He was at Red Rocks for two nights and then off to Seattle before closing the tour out in San Fran. His urges were becoming more frequent, constant even, and his aging process was accelerating at an unprecedented rate. He had needed to put makeup on before the show and that had never happened before. Jimmy wondered whether it was the sex he needed or whether it was the killing. Even though the killing was such a passive act, the dying was so sweet to watch. It filled him with awe for his own abilities.
He loved the feeling of power he had when he was pleasuring a woman, but they’d all had other men do that stuff to them, although most likely not as good as him, he thought. But, none of them had ever been killed before, that was a power that belonged to him alone. So, when they watched him, as the last of their being struggled against the inevitable that they surely knew was coming, it was Jimmy Vale that did it to them, that was their final thought. Even God, if there was such a thing, had to respect that, yeah sure, so he created life, but Jimmy, he took it away, so really who was more powerful? Whose act had the greater lasting impact?
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