Reel to Real

by Joyce Nance

  With hellfire burning in his eyes, he proceeded to tell her what had happened inside the video store. He told her the order the employees were killed in, how much blood was involved and every last, unseemly detail.

  Esther covered her ears. He forced her hands away. She hid her head under a couch pillow. He yanked her back up. There was nothing else she could do but just sit there and listen. She bit her lip to keep from screaming.

  The details were horrific. Much, much worse than she let herself imagine. She slumped as he talked, shivering, head down, shell-shocked, listening.

  When he finished he stood up and walked around to the couch, behind her.

  “Now, tell me. Tell me what’re you gonna say when I hold a gun to your head?”

  She did not turn. She did not answer.

  The next sound she heard was the hard smack of his hand. He walloped the back of the couch. She hunched forward, trying to shield her head with her arms.

  “I said, what are you gonna say?” he yelled.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  He returned to the front of the couch and faced her. From somewhere, he had produced the TEC-9, and pointed it at her face. She sucked in a volume of air and stiffened.

  “Don’t know, eh?” he said. “Well, for starters, you might tell me you’re gonna keep your fucking mouth shut.” He pushed the gun’s barrel against her pulsing temple. She gulped and gripped the edges of the cushion she sat on to keep from falling sideways. Her heart was beating a mile a minute.

  “Tell you what,” he said, his voice leveling out. “I’m gonna help you. I’m gonna give you a tip that’s gonna be very helpful for you. I’m doing that because I’m such a nice guy. I’m doing it because I don’t want you to have to think too much and strain your very small brain.” He reached into his pants pocket, pulled out an ammo clip, and pushed it into the gun, glaring at her.

  “Here’s my tip.” he said. “If you tell anyone, and I mean anyone, including your boyfriend — and I mean your boyfriend John Lausell who’s coming here tonight — if you tell anyone about what happened, I’m gonna fucking blow your motherfucking brains out and then pass out what's left for the pigeons to eat.” His face contorted into a hideous smirk, and then he added, “And I’m gonna be laughing my goddamn ass off the whole fucking time I’m doing it.”

  6 PM

  Heather and Holly appeared on television to make a direct plea to the public for the return of their grandparents. Pictures of the McDougalls were displayed on the screen as Holly spoke.

  “Please! Whoever has our grandparents, let them go. We love them, we care about them, our family loves and cares about them and we would do anything to get them back. My grandfather needs to take his heart medicine every day. We need to get our grandparents back safely.”

  8:15 PM

  Ryan Spicher, the last customer at Hollywood Video on the night of the murders, was contacted by police and questioned. His name had come up on a computer invoice processed at 2:11 AM. He was asked to come down to the station to describe what had transpired in the minutes prior to closing time.

  Spicher was able to help the police produce a composite drawing of the people he'd seen at the video store. It took the artist several hours to complete a picture that Spicher felt accurately represented his memory of the two people. He saw them only briefly and only from the side, so the composite was done in profile.

  Spicher felt confident he could easily identify the male if he were to see either a photograph of the man or if he were to view him in a physical lineup. By contrast, he told the police he didn’t think he could pick out the woman at all.

  9 PM

  Traffic was light and there were no working accidents. This was good because Shane was running late. Originally, he wanted to arrive around 8:30 but ended up making a side-trip to the East Mountains. He made the trip in order to stash a couple of items he owned in a safe place: underground. A guy he knew named Harry the Hammer went with him. Harry was a big guy who was good with a shovel and bad at cooperating with authorities.

  After dropping Harry off at a pool hall on Central, Shane hit the road to pick up John at the Santa Fe Greyhound bus depot as they had agreed. Shane had sent for John because he felt he needed some dependable muscle close by. He told John that a guy from prison named Sal was out to get him. The good and bad news about that was that it was true. But Shane also wanted someone to babysit Esther and keep her settled down. Someone to distract her, which he hoped, would keep her mouth shut.

  ***

  On the ride back from Santa Fe, Shane was super talkative. He talked about the weather, he talked about his time in the penitentiary, and he talked about a recent crime he had committed.

  “I boosted this restaurant, man,” Shane told John with a slight smile, referring to the Mac’s robbery. “It was cool. It went real smooth,”

  “Back to your old tricks, huh?” John said, toothpick stuck in his back teeth.

  “I got no choice, man. I can’t get no job that’s any good. I’m not working in no fucking laundry again. That’s for chumps. That’s just like being back at the joint. I gotta do what I gotta do. Fucking A, man, I gotta eat. What the fuck else am I supposed to do?”

  “I hear you, bro.” John put the toothpick on the other side of his mouth. “So how’d it go down? At the restaurant? Did you use a piece? Did you get out clean?

  “Oh yeah, everything was clean. I made sure. I only had a toy gun on this one. It was all I needed. But yeah, it went good. I cased the place a couple of times, even followed the dude home. I told him I did, too. Made him more cooperative. I had him tell me where all the money was so I got paid twice. Once from the register and once from the safe. Then after, when I was leaving, I duct taped him up good. Wrapped his ass up like a present. I duct taped dude’s mouth, face, hands, feet, everything. He couldn’t move.”

  “You wrapped him like a present, huh?” John laughed a long, deep laugh. “That’s a good one.”

  “Yup, practically hog-tied him. But besides the tape, I was cool with him. When I left I put ten bucks in his pocket and told him no hard feelings. Ha.”

  “No shit?”

  “No, no fucking shit. I put it right in his damn pocket. Then he made some kinda crazy ass noise cause he couldn’t talk cause of the tape and it sounded like he was saying thank you, so I says to him, ’you’re welcome.’”

  “You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” John said with a chuckle.

  “I might be crazy but I got more’n nine hundred bucks from that fucking shithole. That’s where I got the money I sent you.”

  John nodded. “Yeah, that was cool. I really needed that. Thanks man.”

  Shane continued talking. He talked about various money-making ideas. He told John again about the credit card idea. Said he had acquired credit card receipts that he would soon be exploiting. John reminded him he had already heard about the credit card scam thing and had as of yet seen no results.

  Shane said he realized that but he was still working out the kinks. He told John that if he did it right, if he was really discreet and didn’t take too much money at any one time from any one card, he might be able to keep milking that same card forever. He explained he had done a test on one card but it didn’t go through. He said he still had high hopes but didn’t want to go big time with it until he knew it worked correctly.

  He also discussed his idea of robbing the Denver Mint. Said he knew someone that worked there and had inside information. He predicted they might be able to make six figures from that one. They would, however, need to get a few more people involved and would have to accumulate a bunch more guns to successfully pull it off.

  John listened.

  Shane gave him numerous details about several different jobs, past and future, as they drove to Albuquerque that night, but never once did he mention Esther as a player in any one of them. He knew that if he did, John would most certainly kill him.

  Chapter 19

  “If you don'
t want anyone to know, don't do it.”

  CHINESE PROVERB

  Esther gathered up her clothes and put them in a bright red duffle bag. John was coming to town for a couple of days and Shane had told her to be ready. She expected them any minute.

  Esther had decided that instead of waiting in her apartment, she would be proactive and carry everything down ahead of time, storing the items in her car. Then she would be ready for them no matter what time they showed up.

  Despite everything that had happened on this very long day, Esther was excited to see John. Naturally, this new development put her trip to Ohio on the back burner. Nothing else mattered now, as long as she was with John. It seemed like forever since she had seen him. They were going to stay at a motel down the street from where she lived because he did not want to be seen at her apartment.

  The police were still looking for him.

  ***

  As Shane drove to Albuquerque, he tried to act normal; attempted to be cool. He had something on his mind but he talked about everything else. Despite the fact that he had discussed the Hollywood Video murders with several other people earlier in the day, he did not bring it up with John. He knew that if he even hinted at something like that, John would suspect that he was involved.

  John asked Shane to stop for cigarettes, so he pulled into a gas station about a block from Esther's apartment.

  After picking up a pack of Kools, Shane turned back onto Candelaria Road. In a matter of moments, though, swirling police lights appeared in his rear-view mirror. He looked at John, trying not to freak out.

  “He’s following me, man,” Shane said somberly. “What the fuck did I do?”

  10:10 PM

  Deputy L. P. Lazo of the Bernalillo County Sheriff’s Office noticed a black Fiero in the 300 block of Candelaria Road that was driving without its headlights. Since it was his job to enforce traffic statutes, he pulled the vehicle over and shined his flashlight into the driver’s window. He instructed both the driver and his passenger to get out of the vehicle.

  Once they were out, he asked the driver for his license and vehicle registration, both of which he produced. The officer also asked the passenger for his ID.

  The man, a black man with a very short pony tail, said he didn’t have a driver’s license with him but he was able to find a social security card in his wallet. The name on the social security card read John Enfante. That seemed to satisfy the officer.

  ***

  While lugging her bags to the car, Esther noticed flashing lights. Wonder what that’s about? she said to herself. Without thinking, she walked towards the police car.

  To her surprise and horror, she saw Shane and John, their grim faces awash in red and blue, hands on top of Shane’s car. An officer stood next to them shining a flashlight into the Fiero.

  “They’re done for,” Esther said under her breath. She assumed they were being arrested — John for the gun incident and Shane for what he did last night. Her heart pounded so loudly she thought the officer might hear it from across the street and grab her too. But he did not look at her.

  When John saw her, he gave her an almost imperceptible shake of the head, which she interpreted as a signal to keep walking. Not knowing what else to do, she put her head down and walked up the street to the Giant Station, expecting the worst.

  ***

  Deputy Lazo took the driver’s documents back to his unit and ran them through NCIC. No outstanding warrants showed up, so his only action was to write the driver a ticket and give back his paper work.

  The officer then got another call and drove off. Both John and Shane breathed a huge sigh of relief and did a silent low five.

  ***

  Esther emerged from the gas station food mart, pushed up her glasses and waited. A few minutes later, the Fiero pulled up. She saw only Shane and John, no cop. What happened? Obviously they weren’t arrested.

  She ran over to them. It was a false alarm, they said, just a ticket.

  Laughing a ridiculously happy laugh, Esther slipped her hand into John’s and piled into Shane’s car. She sat on John’s lap because the car was only a two-seater, and she held on to him as hard as she could.

  They headed to the A-1 Motel down the street. It wasn’t fancy but Esther didn’t care. All that mattered was that John would be hers for the entire night, and maybe more. Any future pain could be postponed with alcohol and love. No thinking allowed.

  ***

  Shane hung out for a while in John and Esther’s motel room, shooting the breeze with John while keeping one eye on the noisy TV. The news was on. News about a triple murder at the Hollywood Video.

  There were shots of the video store and its parking lot, and shots of the crime scene tape. The newscaster said the killer or killers were still on the loose, and that police were looking for a black van with a white X or a rebel flag on the side. They were also looking for the grandparents of one of the murdered clerks. The clerk’s relatives said the grandparents might have stumbled upon the video store murders in progress.

  “I’m thirsty,” Esther announced and turned off the TV. “I’m going to the gas station next door and get something to drink.”

  “Whataya gonna get?” Shane asked with a boyish smile.

  “Beer; maybe some schnapps.”

  “I’ll go with,” Shane said, inspecting his fingernails.

  John, not paying much attention to either one of them, said he’d wait in the room. While they were gone he turned the TV back on and flipped through the channels. All the stations had the same huge words “BREAKING NEWS” at the bottom of the screen.

  John learned there had been multiple murders at a Hollywood Video store that morning.

  Hmmm? John thought. But he was more interested in what the newscaster had to say about how the police were going to search for the killer. He said that police would be making sweeps of all the motels around town. They would be going room to room.

  That worried John.

  ***

  On the way back to the motel room, Shane said, “That’s weird what they said about the black van thing, huh?

  “Yeah, I don’t get that,” Esther said.

  “Well, it’s good for us. Remember, don’t tell John anything. Let me handle it.”

  She nodded. “Okay,” she said, thankful that Shane didn’t start raging again. He seemed somewhat calmer since John arrived.

  ***

  “Okay, line ’em up boys and girls. Let’s play Schneer,” Shane said, when they were back in the room.

  Esther knew exactly what he meant and decided it was best to placate him. She took the liquor she had just purchased out of the bag, gathered up all the plastic cups in the motel room and set them on the dresser. — There were three of them. She poured two half cups of schnapps and one full cup of beer, alternating their placement on the bureau.

  “Who wants to play,” Shane asked, looking at John and then at Esther. They both shook their head no. Shane frowned.

  “Okay, then, it’s just me. I gotta drink ’em all in a row. I can’t stop.”

  After pounding his chest a couple of times, Shane chugged all three cups without pause, wiping the foam off his mouth with his sleeve as a final flourish.

  “Did it,” he said.

  John and Esther clapped once, followed by a bored-looking John lifting one hand to show Shane the door.

  Shane looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t. After a full minute of silence he finally left. When he did, Esther turned off the TV and buried her face in John’s neck. Later that night, she got the only deep sleep she would get for some time to come.

  Chapter 20

  “Evil is unspectacular and always human, and shares our bed and eats at our own table.”

  W.H. AUDEN

  Monday, March 4, 1996 9 AM

  Citizen Nordaine Oliver was listening to KKOB on the radio like he always did. He was driving on State Road North 14 near Cedar Crest, New Mexico, with his wife. Every fifteen minutes or so
an announcement was made to be on the lookout for a white Buick Skylark with New Mexico license plate number XXX000.

  Mr. Oliver kept his eyes peeled for the vehicle as he drove to the VA hospital in Albuquerque. He was on his way to get a couple of medical issues checked out. As he passed the town of Sandia Park, something white and shiny off the side of the road caught his eye.

  In an unpopulated area, behind a clump of pinion trees, he saw what he thought might be a white car or truck. As a retired law enforcement and corrections officer, Mr. Oliver was used to sizing up situations at a moment’s notice. Something about what he had just seen seemed out of the ordinary. He even mentioned it to his wife, but since he was in a hurry to keep his appointment at the VA, he did not stop.

  10 AM

  Autopsy: Dr. Patricia McFeeley

  It was Dr. McFeely’s job as a forensic pathologist to look at unusual, unnatural, and unexpected deaths. At the time of the Hollywood Video murders, she had been working for the Office of the Medical Investigator (OMI) for nineteen years, and she had performed between four and five thousand autopsies.

  Dr. McFeely began the autopsies, and within the first hour, she began to jot down her notes:

  Zach – 133 pounds, 19 years old, freckles on face. Rigor and livor motis present. Three gunshot wounds to the head, no other traumas to the body. Stippling noted – 9mm weapon most likely fired at close range. Cause of death: multiple gunshot wounds to the head. Manner of death: homicide.

  Mylinh – 118 pounds, 30 years old, 5'4” tall, wire-rimmed glasses, three earrings in left ear – two on right. Barely digested rice and vegetables in stomach. Rigor and livor mortis present. Three gunshot wounds to the back of the head, most likely fired in short succession and at close range. No exit wounds. Cause of death: multiple gunshot wounds to the head. Manner of death: homicide.

  Jowanda – 124 pounds, 18 years old, 5'5” tall. Long, brown curly hair, below shoulders, held back in an elastic tie. Personal items noted: New Mexico driver's license and a Highland High School ring. Stomach contents: barely digested rice and vegetables. Rigor and livor mortis present. Three gunshot wounds to the head. All three within a four inch area – behind left ear. Cause of death: multiple gunshot wounds to the head. Manner of death: homicide.