by Jeff Strand
“Then don’t let me stop you.”
I applied a little more pressure to the cleaver, not enough to even break the skin, let alone chop through the bone. My stomach was beginning to churn, but I had to be strong. One finger gone and this jerk would tell me anything I wanted to know. I balled my other hand into a fist and raised it above the cleaver, preparing to slam it down.
“Last chance,” I said.
“I consider myself fully warned.”
I brought my fist down. But right before striking the cleaver I quickly changed direction and slammed my hand over my mouth. I darted over to the counter and promptly vomited in the sink. It was not a grand moment for my dignity.
The Apparition began to laugh loudly.
I wiped my mouth off on my sleeve and gave him the most evil look of which I was capable. It would probably have been more evil if I hadn’t been positively sick to my stomach. I can pretty much handle snuff videos and people ripping their eyes out, but being the instigator of gruesome violence myself was way too much.
“Nice show, Mayhem,” The Apparition sneered. “Glad to see I didn’t misjudge you! Maybe for an encore you can piss your pants!”
I coughed a few times, and then turned on the faucet to rinse away the evidence of my inability to handle the rough stuff. I retrieved the meat cleaver from where it had fallen on the floor and placed it back against his finger. “Let’s try this again,” I said, my voice squeaking in a mostunmasculine manner.
“Oh, give it up,” The Apparition suggested. “What do you care if those people die, anyway? Faceit, youain’t got what it takes to stop this. You’re a loser.”
“You think I’m a loser?” I asked, raising the meat cleaver. “Is that what you think? We’ll see who’s a loser after I slam this cleaver right through your skull!” I began to pace back and forth, swinging the cleaver wildly through the air. “I’ve had it with your bullshit! I’ve had it! You don’t want to talk, that’s fine! I don’t care anymore! I’m done being your boss’sfreakin ‘ puppet!”
I kicked one of the chairs as hard as I could,knocking it over. “You think I’m a loser, myparents think I’m a loser, my wife thinks I’m a loser, fine! You hear me?Fine!” I slammed the cleaver into the table, imbedding it in the wood. I started to pry it out, but it was stuck pretty firmly and I didn’t want The Apparition to see me struggle with it. Instead I pulled open the top drawer with so much force that it popped all the way out, scattering utensils all over the floor with a huge crash. I reached down, but grabbed a piece of a broken plate rather than a fork or knife.
“I’ve had it!” I nearly shouted. “I’m ending this whole thing right here, right now, starting with you!” I raised the broken plate like a dagger, and then smashed it against the side of the chair so that splinters of glass sprayed up onto his face. Then I pushed the tip of the remaining chunk against his throat, hard enough that a small trickle of blood ran down his neck.
The Apparition had gone completely pale. Apparently he’d decided that I was starting to become a threat to his personal safety.
He stiffened, made a soft gasping sound, and then slumped forward, motionless.
“Uh…” I said.
I reached over and pressed my fingers against his neck. No pulse. It looked as if I’d given the old guy a fatal heart attack. I was getting a little tired of watching these.
I stood there in shock for a long, long moment. Then I reacted.
“You son of a bitch!“I shouted at him.“You miserable prick! Where do you get off dying on me?” I resisted the urge to kick his chair over and settled for kicking the refrigerator instead. That hurt, so I quit.
I returned to the living room and plopped down on the recliner.Great.Just great.Wonderful. Super.Dandy.Delightful.Peachy.
Shit!
Reverse Snowflake walked into the room and hissed at me. I told him to shut up and go away.
Okay, technically I wasn’t much worse off than I had been before I’d broken into the house, except that I was directly responsible for a dead body in the kitchen, and when the police eventually became involved I was going to have a bit of difficulty explaining it. The self-defense argument doesn’t quite hold water when the victim is tied to a chair with duct tape.
I wondered how the killer would react to the news.
And then I brightened. Since The Apparition probably hadn’t expected to spend the rest of his evening dead, maybe he hadn’t gone to the trouble of covering his tracks. His truck was outside, and maybe he was even carrying a wallet. There might be a clue yet!
THE APPARITION was not carrying a wallet, and a thorough search of his truck provided nothing of interest…with the exception of a little black book containing the killer’s phone number.
Chapter 14
IT WAS lying there right on the seat. I quickly flipped through the book and concluded that The Apparition didn’t have much of a social life���most of the pages were blank. There were listings for eight different pizza places, as well as addresses and phone numbers for Michael Ashcraft, Dominick Griffin, Linda Hanson, Rachel Mallory, FarleySoukup , and CarlUnderall .
There was also one number, written on the bottom of the “A” page, without any description. I went back inside Michael’s house and called it.
After three rings, somebody picked up, but didn’t speak.
“Hello?” I said.
Silence.
“Is anybody there?”
A click, then a dial tone.Okay,itwas kind of inconsiderate to be calling at this time of the night/morning. I would’ve hung up, too.
Less than a minute later, while I stood around trying to decide what to do with The Apparition, Michael’s phone rang. I picked up the receiver and said nothing.
“Hello, Andrew,” said the computer-generated monotone.
“Hi, Chuckles. How’s ithangin ‘?”
“How did you get the phone number you just called?”
“It was the weirdest thing. I was trying to call OswaldHankensnorker’s Psychic Connection when my fingers slipped and I got you.Small world, huh?”
“Where’s The Apparition?”
“He’s safe, for now. But if you want to ever see his cute little beard again, I think we need to talk.”
“We are talking.”
“And I appreciate it. So, what do you think of a trade? I give you your buddy, you give me the prisoners?”
“He’s not my buddy.”
“Okay, then I’ll give you your faithful employee, how about that?”
“Let me speak to him.”
“No can do,” I said. “He’s kind of unconscious at the moment.”
“What makes you think I care what happens to him? Go ahead and kill him.”
“I didn’t say I was going to kill him. But I’ll bet you anything that once I start turning his life into an episodeofGhoulish Delights he’ll lead me right to your place. Why not save us the mess?”
“You overestimate how much he knows.”
“I bet he knows enough.”
“Then get it out of him. Do you have any spiders handy? He hates spiders. Put a tarantula down the back of his shirt and he’ll tell you anything.”
“Well, thank you so much for the helpful hint. If I should happen to find a tarantula lying around I’ll be sure to try it.”
“It’s almost time for me to hang up,” said the voice. “When you start torturing The Apparition, tell him I said hi. You’re doing fine work, Mayhem. Keep it up.”
“Look, I’ve just about had it with your crap.”
“Too bad.I have more crap to give you.”
“Well, I’m getting pretty close to the quitting point. I want to know what the hell I have to do to make you let those people go.”
“The same thing you’ve been doing, except that there’s a new rule now. Don’t visit any of our homes. You do, the prisoners die. By the way, I wouldn’t want you to waste your valuable time, so I’ll say right now that the phone number you called goes to the same cellul
ar phone you used earlier. It’s under Jennifer’s name.”
He was one heck of a fast typist. “Well, you’re just filled with helpful tidbits tonight, aren’t you?”
“Here’s one more. You’ll get another tape tomorrow. If you thought the last one was bad, this one will have your brain leaking out of your ears. Good night.”
The killer hung up. I redialed the number and let it ring about twenty times before giving up.
AFTER SOME thought, I took the lazy route and decided to leave Michael’s house the way it was. The Apparition could just sit there taped to the chair being dead. I was eventually going to have to tell the whole story anyway, so there was no sense in covering my tracks, and it’s not like he was a fine, upstanding member of the community who deserved the best care upon his untimely passing. Let him stink up the place.
I couldn’t get Reverse Snowflake to come out from under Michael’s bed, so I made sure he had plenty of food and water. I couldn’t adopt him, for fear that he might shred my children, but I decided I’d make sure he found a good home after this whole thing blew over.
I left The Apparition’s truck in the driveway and walked back to my own car. It was still there, so I drove back to Roger’s place, borrowed a blanket and an alarm clock, and stretched out on the couch to get a couple hours of sleep.
THE ALARM went off at the unholy hour of five-fifteen. I got up off the couch, staggered around for a moment wondering what planet I was currently residing on, then used Roger’s shower. The soap didn’t jolt me into a state of euphoric alertness like the commercials said it would, but I felt a bit more human.
During my shower, I came up with a plan. Not necessarily a good plan.Possibly a very bad plan.Definitely a risky plan.Sort of a pray-your-instincts-are-right-because-otherwise-you’re-100%-screwed plan.But a plan nevertheless.
I woke Roger up by dropping a few cubes of ice on his chest. Once in college when he’d been extremely hung-over I’d used an entire cooler’s worth to wake him up, but now that we were mature adults a few cubes were sufficient. Theresa and Kyle weren’t any more keen to get up than Roger had been, but I eventually got them dressed and into my car. The kids were too sleepy to even engage in much combat on the way to the gym, but once we pulled into the parking lot they both perked up.
“Ooh! Ooh! Can I play on the treadmill if they have one?” asked Theresa.
“Probably not,” I told her. “I need both of you to behave and not get in anyone’s way. These people aren’t here to havefun, they’re here to get in shape.”
“I’m in shape,” said Kyle, flexing what existed of a muscle.
“You sure are, Hulk. Now if you behave yourselves, we’ll have pizza for lunch.”
Is the frequent use of bribery to control behavior the sign of a bad parent? As soon as the killer was apprehended, I was going to have to work on that.
I’d explained to Roger that his job was to sit in the car and watch for anything remotely suspicious, particularly if it took the form of any Ghoulish Delights employees. He had no problem with that, probably because it didn’t involve hanging around a graveyard for a few hours.
We went inside. “Are you a member?” asked the man behind the front desk. He had biceps that looked like a bowling ball had been surgically implanted in each arm, and gave me a look that showed he considered himself very, very strong while he considered me very, very weak.
“No, but I’m here to see Rachel Mallory.”
“You should consider the benefits of membership. A strong, healthy body goes a long way toward protecting one’s children.”
“Wow!” exclaimed Kyle, dragging his attention away from the pictures hanging on the wall long enough to notice the man. “Are you Hercules?”
The man favored him with a nod. “Yes I am.” To me, he said, “Membership is only thirty dollars a month, and carries with it the benefit that young children mistake you for Hercules. What do you say?”
“We’ll see how things go with Rachel,” I said. I noticed that Theresa was looking a bit starry-eyed, so I waved my hand in front of her face to being her back to reality.
“Hey, Rachel!” the man called out. “Some guy is here to see you!”
Rachel walked into the lobby, wearing a blue spandex uniform that really showed off her athletic physique. “Wow!” exclaimed Kyle. “Are youXena , Warrior Princess?”
“No, I’m Wonder Woman,” Rachel told him. “Shall we start your workout?”
“Sure, that sounds great,” I said, only so Hercules wouldn’t mock me. We followed her back to the weight room. Only a couple of people were using it, a woman in incredible physical shape and a man who really needed to lift a few more weights before he’d be in good enough shape to attract the woman.
“I guess we’ll start off with some stretches,” said Rachel, leading us to a floor mat. “Everyone take off your shoes.”
“This really wasn’t supposed to be an exercise session. I just wanted to ask you a few questions about Michael.”
“You can ask me questions while we get in a good workout. You need one. Get those shoes off.”
Theresa and Kyle excitedly removed their footwear, and Theresa launched into some jumping jacks. I considered mentioning that I wasn’t dressed for a workout, but then made the astute observation that she wouldn’t care.
“Now, I want everyone to touch your right toe with your left hand.” Rachel reached down and touched her right toe with her left hand, as if it were no problem whatsoever. I reached down and did the same thing.
“Don’t bend your knees,” Rachel said.
I tried to touch my toe without bending my knees and was not entirely successful. But I did better than Kyle, who tumbled forward and hit his face on the mat.
“He’s missing a few motor skills,” I explained.
“Must take after his father.”
I reached down and touched my toe just to spite her. I refused to say anything about the sharp pain in my back.
“Now touch your left toe with your right hand, and alternate to the count of twenty. Andrew, you can ask your questions now.”
“When did you last see Michael?”
“Two…three…last Thursday, right before he left forEurope … six…seven…”
“Was he acting unusual?”
“…eight…nine…no, not unusual in a bad way…twelve…thirteen… he was really excited about his trip…sixteen…seventeen…couldn’t stop talking about it…twenty.”
“So he seemed genuinely excited?”
“Sure. Wouldn’t you be?” Rachel smiled at Theresa and Kyle. “Do you kids want to show me who can do the most push-ups?”
“Me!” shouted Theresa.
“Prove it!”
My children dropped to the floor and began doing push-ups.
Rachel grinned as she watched them go at it. Whoever the killer might be, I was sure it wasn’t her. Not that any of the others seemed like killers, either, but for some unexplainable reason I just had a gut feeling that Rachel was innocent.Which was good, because this was a crucial element in my plan. If I was going to make any progress in finding the killer, I had to take this huge risk.
“So what’s up with the questions about Mike? You sound like a cop, not a journalist.”
“I’m not a journalist,” I said. I motioned her to follow me to another part of the room, where my children couldn’t hear us. “I take it Carl or Farley didn’t get in touch with you last night?”
“No, I kept the phone off the hook. I don’t like being bothered when I’m reading. So are you a cop?”
“No.”
“A detective?”
“Rachel, I need to tell you something very important, but I need your promise that you won’t share it with anyone, no matter what.”
“I’d like to make that promise, but anyone puts some red-hot spikes under my toenails and I’m blabbing.”
Since that wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility, I let it go. “It’s about somebody in Ghoulish
Delights. At least I’m pretty sure it is. And I don’t know who else I can trust.”
“You don’t know who else you can trust? Look, Andy, if you’re trying out for an acting role in our movies, at least get some better dialogue first.”
“This isn’t an audition. And don’t call me Andy.”
“Sorry.”
“Would you like some more clich��d dialogue? How about this: Innocent lives depend on you helping me. And innocent lives are at risk if you repeat any of what I’m about to tell you.”
“Whose lives?“Rachel asked.
“I don’t know their names. Five people locked away somewhere, kidnapped by someone you work with.”
Rachel stared at me for a moment,then looked over at Theresa and Kyle. “Hey, there are jump ropes in the corner if you want!”
“Hooray!” shouted Theresa, as she raced her brother to the corner and won.
“All right, Andrew, you’ve got me interested enough to give my promise. What’s the story?”
“Michael and Jennifer Ashcraft are dead. Michael was buried alive, and Jennifer was stabbed to death then chopped into pieces that were hidden in my best friend’s automobile.”
“What?” asked Rachel withdisbelief.
“I’msorry, I should have eased into that. But I’m completely serious. They’re dead, and the killer has me involved in some kind of sick game.”
“What do youmean, some kind of sick game?”
I described my adventures in complete gory detail. The color drained from her face as I spoke, and by the time I’d finished she looked positively ill. “I’m sorry, I need a drink of water,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
I didn’t really want to let her out of my sight, but it wasn’t like I could prevent her from going anywhere. I desperately hoped that telling her had been the right thing to do, but to find out what was going on I absolutely had to get some sort of inside information. She left the weight room, and I went over to make sure my kids were playing nicely.
Rachel returned a couple of minutes later, not looking much better. She sat down on one of the weight machines, and I joined her.
“So you’re sure it’s someone at Ghoulish Delights?” she asked.