by Luke Murphy
Charlene understood that his father’s death had probably accelerated Darren’s maturity, and changed his way of thinking.
“We all knew that it was only a matter of time until Delores got tired of Cooney and moved on, either dumping him or cheating on him. Cooney was like a father to me. We attended sporting events together, he taught me how to hunt and fish. That’s why I wanted to be a cop, to follow in Sean’s footsteps. But eventually, as it always does, a good thing came to an abrupt end.
“In 1999, Delores fell for a guy from the set of one of her movies. It crushed Sean. But it hurt me even more. First my father then Cooney. I had just turned fifteen, curious and quiet, and unsure of my place of belonging in the world. I wanted to explore.”
Darren didn’t smile or laugh. Charlene thought that he must have lost it some time ago and had only been clinging on by a thread. How he had managed to make it this far, Charlene had no idea. Self-delusion maybe?
He turned and refilled his glass. Charlene again tried to wiggle her wrist and thought she felt her fingers move, maybe telling her that she was getting some feeling back in her muscles.
“When I hit high school, I noticed the changes. School bored me. I began to set traps in the back yard, catching squirrels, cats, chipmunks, anything that came around. I loved to watch the pain I could inflict without actually killing them. I’d push the limit a little further each time. My mother either never saw the changes or chose not to. She was too wrapped up in herself to notice anyone around her. But Sean noticed.”
“He worked with me, taught me skills, self-control and other things that could help me. I moved from small animals to bigger ones, wild game, Sean and I hunted out by his camp. He used to rent it back then. I felt alive when I killed. I enjoyed seeing the animals suffer. I remember returning from the hunt and masturbating three or four times a night. I was obsessed with it. I didn’t need women, had no use for them. I had the thrill of a lifetime.
“But it all changed for me when my mother left Sean. He changed too. That’s when we decided to up the stakes.” Darren smiled. “I had to kill her.”
“We took to the streets, starting with lowlifes, those who wouldn’t be missed. But I soon wanted more. The torturing of my victims escalated with each new kill. I longed for the thrill of the hunt.”
To Charlene, there was no sign of remorse in Darren’s voice or facial features. It was as if it all brought him peace of mind. He was emotionless.
“We evolved, learned from our mistakes, and increased the danger, steadily moving up until we reached our ultimate destination.”
He hesitated and took a drink, draining half the glass in one swallow.
“I hated what the lifestyle had done to my mother and my family. Celebrities are pure evil, the lowest form of disloyalty, greed, and corruption. It’s not their fault—it’s the lifestyle. There are too many temptations, too many easy-way-outs. So Sean and I took matters into our own hands. We made a difference. As Gandhi said, we were the change we wished to see in the world.”
Darren picked up a flashlight and shone it towards a board that Charlene had missed in the corner of the room. It was plastered with newspaper articles and pictures.
“We didn’t select major celebrities. That’s just too risky. We settled for the bottom feeders. I kept track of the media, followed television reports, subscribed to magazines, and collected all of the newspaper clippings.”
For the first time, Darren’s face showed regret. His rueful smile didn’t look faked. “I didn’t mean to kill your father. That wasn’t part of the plan. I always liked him. He took me in, showed me the ropes. Hell, I moved from Hollywood to learn under him. But, he got too close. After I killed him, Cooney wanted to kill you but I wouldn’t let him. I convinced him to keep you alive.”
Darren seemed to hesitate, as if giving Charlene’s dad a moment of respectful silence.
Charlene took it all in. Darren was the alpha-dog. He had killed her father, he was the mastermind calling the shots, and Cooney had been his loyal servant.
“Excuse me,” he said.
~ * ~
Charlene’s eyes shot open, only to find that she was still on the steel table. How long had she been out?
Her memory was blurred. She was no longer shivering. Her body had acclimatized to the cold and her nose must have grown accustomed to the stench because she no longer noticed it.
She remembered Darren suddenly leaving, as if he heard something or had an idea, bolting from the room, up the stairs and through the door. Now, Charlene could hear his footsteps on the floor boards above her. What was he doing?
Tension mounted with each creak she heard from Darren above her. She tried to breathe deeply, tried to calm down, focus, concentrate and think of a way out. But it seemed hopeless.
The door at the top of the stairs opened. Charlene could see the beam of light from the kitchen. When she heard footsteps descending the stairs, she hoped it was anyone other than Darren.
“Oh good, you’re awake. You must forgive me, Charlie. It was very rude to just leave you like that. It won’t happen again.”
He sat back down beside her and resumed the talk as if there had been no interruption.
“Sean had wanted to kill you right from the start. He knew that he could never have you, and that’s what tortured him. I remember him telling me stories about when he was partnered with your father, you would always be around and he had wanted you. He would get hard just talking about you, rather immature and disgusting. But I was the reason you were spared. I saw something in you that I had to have for myself.”
Charlene wondered if Darren was looking for a thank you.
“I really felt we made a connection during the Jackson case. I thought that there was potential there and a spark that you felt too.”
Charlene tried to move her lips, attempted to answer but could not. Her mouth was dry.
“That’s when the plan to set up Sean came into focus. I knew that as the Celebrity Slayer, I could never get close to you. But with that case out of the way, we could pursue a relationship and be together forever. But I was wrong. I followed you into those woods and when you saw my initials carved into the tree, I thought I’d been exposed right there. I guess DB never registered.” He chuckled. “I was just lucky I could get to Cooney before he talked to the cops. When I discovered you were investigating me, I knew that it had to end.
“I knew that Charlene Taylor, the Lone Ranger, the determined, bull-headed female investigator who didn’t trust men would come knocking on my door. It has always been Charlene Taylor against the world.”
Charlene fought to struggle and felt more movement, albeit small. She was regaining the feeling in her muscles and the control to act on her own. But her strength was still limited.
Darren must have noticed it because he looked down at Charlene’s wrist.
“Looks like we’re almost out of time,” he said. “It’s time for us to become one with each other. I know you like to be on top, always in control of everyone and everything. But I’m going to do this nice and slow, make sure we both get what we need.”
Rather than using the knife to cut through her clothes, with gentle fingers he slowly unbuttoned and opened her shirt, revealing her black lace bra. The bra snapped at the front, so he easily unhooked it and let the elastic pull away and drop to the side.
Darren gently rubbed her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, licking the tips and moistening her nipples until they grew stiff. Charlene fought it as much as she could.
“That’s my girl,” he said, smiling as Charlene’s nipples grew hard and pointy.
He began fondling her breasts, gently kneading them in a circular motion. He bent over and kissed her nipples, taking them in his mouth and sucking them lightly.
Then he climbed up on the table over her, moving up towards her neck, kissing and sucking playfully. He gently swept aside her hair and nibbled at the crook of her neck. Charlene could feel his warm breath and the skin o
n her throat goose-bumped. His breathing quickened and she could feel the swell of his hardness through the thin pant fabric against her thigh.
She knew the end was near.
He looked into her eyes. “I’ve been waiting a very long time for this, and I know you have too. It just feels right.”
A tingling sensation returned to Charlene’s tongue and she knew that she was regaining some feeling. She coughed, trying to mouth words, but all that came out was a choking sound.
“Just relax,” Darren said, placing his hands around her throat and massaging her Adam’s apple.
Again she coughed and then slurred words spewed from her lips.
“Shhh. Let it happen.”
“K..k..k..itchen…b..b..b..asement,” Charlene blurted out.
Darren chuckled. “Kitchen, basement? Man, that drug has really gotten to you.”
He got back off the table and to his feet. He traced his fingertips down the middle of her sternum, between her breasts and around her belly button. His hand roamed inside her belt, feeling underneath her pant fabric, lingering under her panty waistband and running smoothly over the stubble of pubic hair.
He walked down to the front end of the table. He removed her shoes and then her socks, placing them neatly on the floor at the end of the table. He returned to her view and unfastened her belt buckle, pulling the belt completely through the loops. He snapped the leather strap with a loud crack.
Charlene felt warm, flushed, dizzy, nauseated. She wanted to vomit. Her head spun, as it all felt like a dream.
“This is what I’ve been waiting for. The moment is killing me.” He gently stroked her cheek and whispered intimately into her ear. “We need each other, Charlie. We’re a team.”
He unhooked her pants and unzipped her metal fly. Charlene raised her hips ever so slightly off the table to allow Darren easy access to pull down her pants to her ankles. He pulled them completely off, folding them neatly and setting them on the chair.
She could see Darren look into her eyes as his hand roamed on her inner legs, slowly moving upwards, finding her inner thigh.
“Help me,” Charlene whispered quietly. She felt like a helpless child.
Darren looked into her eyes. “I am, my love.”
“I’m not talking to you.”
She held her breath, waiting for it, and then she saw it in his eyes—that moment of recognition, of total vulnerability and betrayal. As if he knew he’d been beaten.
Darren’s eyes widened, bulging almost out of their socket. Anger erupted in his eyes.
“What the fuck is this!” he spat, his face now pale with rage.
He violently tore the black thong from her waist, ripping it from around her leg. That’s when Charlene heard the clunk on the metal table between her thighs. Darren reached down and then brought his hand over her face so she could see it clearly.
He held a mechanical device—a short wire connecting a tiny microphone and square transmitter. A piece of black tape dangled uselessly from it.
“You bitch!” He stared with open fury in his eyes.
He turned and grabbed the closest knife from the table behind him. He turned back and held it with two hands over Charlene’s chest, looking into her eyes, ready to thrust down and end her life.
Just then Charlene heard a noise in the background, behind Darren. Darren turned his head to look towards the door, and as his mouth opened, a loud shot snapped Darren back.
When he looked back down at Charlene, a look of disbelief registering on his face, she saw blood trickle from Darren’s mouth. Another shot blew Darren completely off his feet, back against the wall.
Charlene waited, listening to footsteps on the concrete floor, first tramping around the room then coming towards her. A blanket was flung over her naked body before she saw her partner, Larry Baker, looking down at her. She was never so happy to see his ugly mug.
Larry’s smile was strained. A single earpiece dangled from his lobe and a wire snaked down into his jacket pocket. “We got him, Kid.”
Then she passed out.
Epilogue
Moving On?
Within hours the Brady house was swarming with officials.
Charlene was seated on a gurney, strapped to an IV, being carefully looked over by a team of medics as Larry watched over them. Her partner had a serious look of concern on his face.
“I’m glad you know the drug that was used, because we’ve never seen it before. Rohypnol, which is a major component of this drug, can last up to eight hours depending on how much was administered, but we believe it is starting to wear off. The IV should speed up the process,” the EMT said.
They had been talking to her for the last fifteen minutes but very little was registering. Charlene felt confused and a little dizzy, almost like being hung over.
She tried to jump off the gurney but her legs gave out. The EMTs stabilized her with strong arms. “You need to stay on the gurney.” He re-administered the IV and Charlene watched the liquid commence dripping.
She felt woozy, uncoordinated and a little sluggish, but she brushed away his arms and sat up.
She heard her captain’s voice. “Is she able to speak?”
Charlene looked at Larry. “I don’t remember much.”
A medic immediately jumped in. “That’s one of the side effects as the drug wears off, victims are unable to remember what happened while under its influence. We call it retrograde amnesia.”
“It’s okay,” Larry said, holding up the portable taping device. “It’s all recorded here.”
He handed the wire to the captain.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Charlene said, pushing the EMTs away and stumbling behind the parked ambulance. She proceeded to dry-heave hard.
“Take care of her, Baker,” the captain said. Then he turned and joined a crowd of reporters who had been gathered behind the police tape.
Larry stood behind Charlene, holding back her hair as spit hung from the corners of her mouth. She wiped it away with her sleeve and straightened her body, standing upright for the first time in hours.
“I feel like I got hit by a bus,” she told Larry. “My limbs feel like they’re being controlled by someone else.”
Larry only nodded. “Sorry it took me so long to get in there. I couldn’t find you and I didn’t want to alert him. When he came upstairs, I thought I was a sitting duck. I had to hide and lay low until he disappeared again. Thank God you gave me that signal, the basement through the kitchen.”
“Yeah, Darren thought I was just talking gibberish.”
“What do you remember?”
Charlene shook her head and rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. “I’m not sure. It comes back in snapshot images. My mind is playing tricks, flashbacks coming and going.
“It was like I was under his spell, trying to fight him with the strength of an adolescent girl. Like he was a puppeteer, making me do whatever he wanted and I was obliging him. I was scared out of my mind.”
Then Larry did something that even Charlene, as a gifted detective, never saw coming. He wrapped his big, strong bear-like arms around her and squeezed. Charlene found herself doing something she would have never bet she’d do, she leaned into his hug. They stayed there for long minutes, taking in the moment, leaning on him both physically and emotionally. She felt her eyes water and in that instant, Charlene thought of her father.
“Are you sure he’s dead?” she asked, referring to Darren Brady. Her face was still buried in Larry’s chest and her voice caught in her throat.
“It’s over,” he answered. “Your father would be so proud of you.”
“You really think so?”
“I know so.”
“So it’s really over?”
“You tell me, Kid.”
Charlene pulled away and looked into Larry’s face, wondering what he meant.
Then he said, “Can you finally move on?”
She asked herself that very same question.
If you enjoyed this book, please consider writing a short review and posting it on your favorite review site. Reviews are very helpful to other readers and are greatly appreciated by authors, especially me. When you post a review, drop me an email and let me know and I may feature part of it on my blog/site. Thank you. ~ Luke
[email protected]
Message from the Author
Dear Reader,
Thank you for picking up a copy of Kiss & Tell. I hope you enjoyed reading this novel as much as I did writing it. My goal was to please anyone who loves thrillers, strong female protagonists and a fast-paced crime investigation. I hope I succeeded.
This is my “baby”. Although Kiss & Tell is my second published work, it was actually the very first story I ever wrote, back in the winter of 2000. It took about four months to write, but it was nowhere near ready to be published. I tucked it away for the next twelve years and just opened it back up after I’d published Dead Man’s Hand.
This is a work of fiction. I did not base the characters or plot on any real people or events. Any familiarities are strictly coincidence.
The idea for K&T came after helping my girlfriend write a short story for one of her college courses. I took one of the characters we had created and I ran with it.
I never had a chance to visit LA, but I used many sources, from the internet to speaking directly with locals. Kiss & Tell became real from taking advantage of experts in their field and adding my wild imagination.
For more information about my books, please visit my website at www.authorlukemurphy.com.