The Tangerine Killer

by Claire Svendsen

He spluttered and gargled. He was going to pull it out, I knew he was. I didn't have all the answers but I didn't care. One less sick fuck in the world was all that mattered to me. I'd probably never know why he targeted me. Why he hated me for so long. Lisa had just been an innocent victim. Someone he could get his hands on who reminded him of me. Jill was just in the way. He played everyone in town. Now he would pay with his life.

  "You'll never be free," he whispered. "I'll always be a part of you."

  He smiled then, a sick twisted smile that I wasn't expecting.

  "I had you first, you know. I had you and you can never take that away from me."

  "Shut up," I shouted.

  He started to laugh, the blood running thicker now. "I tasted your sweet breasts. I touched you in ways you can't even imagine and then I fucked you."

  “Shut the hell up," I yelled.

  He started to laugh.

  It couldn't be true. I would have remembered something like that. I would have fought back, told someone.

  "You were begging for it. All those short night gowns and sundresses. You used to flaunt yourself in front of me like a little whore. What did you think was going to happen?"

  It wasn't true. He was just messing with my head. I staggered from the table, my feet unsteady beneath me. Then stepped closer and held the knife out in front of me.

  "Say you never touched me and I'll let you live."

  He threw his head back and laughed. Blood squirted from the scalpel still lodged in his throat.

  "Honey, I fucked you over and over again. I came inside you," he looked smug. "That's right, there's part of me in you. In your blood, in your tissues. I fucked you right up."

  I wanted to stab him in the heart. Slide the knife into his chest like butter. Stab him over and over again until there was nothing left but shreds of tissues. A faceless, nameless pile of skin and bone. Instead I reached out and pulled the scalpel from his neck. It slipped out with a slurping noise and the blood pumped out with a vengeance. It splattered down his shirt and squirted over my outstretched arm. I staggered backwards and lost my footing. My legs gave way and I fell, hitting my head on the table as I went.

  He spluttered and gasped, staggering towards me. His face white as a sheet, the blood now a giant puddle on the floor. He made one last gurgle, clutching his throat with blood stained hands and then his eyes rolled back in his head. He fell forwards onto me, his head in my lap, my legs pinned beneath his dead weight. That was when I finally screamed.

  EIGHTY TWO

  I don't know how long I lay there. My legs and arms were numb and sore. The force of lying on my stomach for so long had aggravated my broken ribs. It was hard to catch my breath.

  I tried to free myself, to push Matt's limp body off me but he was a dead weight. The best I could do was shove his head to the side so that it was no longer stuffed in my crotch. Even in death, the bastard was going to make sure I suffered. My head throbbed from where I hit it on the table. The longer I sat there, the weaker I felt. Eventually I began to drift in and out of consciousness. I wondered if this was where I would die.

  In my dreams I was a child again. There was a birthday party. Everyone was dancing and there was a cake and balloons. It was my party. I was eleven. My mother lit the candles on my cake. Derek was beside her, telling her she was doing it wrong. In my memory I knew that Matt was there. I'd forgotten. This was the year he first felt betrayed. Ignored.

  I ran to my mother, tried to get her attention but she didn’t hear me. Derek was showing her how to light the candles without dripping wax onto the cake. She didn't even turn around when I begged her to listen to me. Then Matt was beside me. He took my hand and pulled me through the crowd. I tried to break free but he was stronger than I was. I shouted out for someone to help me but everyone was dancing and laughing. The music was playing louder and louder. No one heard me scream as he dragged me into his bedroom and locked the door.

  EIGHTY THREE

  There were lights and voices. Blurred and distant, they wove through my subconscious. I couldn't breathe. I was gasping for air and then I felt a great weight lift off me. I was floating free. Perhaps I was dead. Free from the pain and the suffering. No such luck.

  "Sam? Can you hear me?"

  I screamed and flailed. I had to escape. Defend myself or die.

  "It's all right. It's okay."

  Someone held onto me. Arms around me, coddling me like a child. I fought them off. I'd scratch the bastard’s eyes out but then wasn't Matt dead? I couldn’t remember.

  "Get the medics down here, and tell them to bring some damn sedatives."

  They couldn't contain me. I scuttled like a bug on legs that wouldn't co-operate but there was nowhere to go. Stuffed myself into a corner, trying to get away from the bright light. I couldn't focus on anything. All I saw were giant blobs wavering in and out of my vision. Their voices distorted like an underwater song.

  Eventually they overpowered me. I fought like a wild animal but there was too many of them. One sharp prick in my arm and I fell into the dark abyss of nothing. I didn't want to go back there, tried to tell them that but my lips wouldn't form the words. He was waiting for me down there. I’d do anything to stay awake.

  EIGHTY FOUR

  Waking up in the hospital was like waking up in the basement of my nightmares. People prodding and poking me. Pulling at my clothes and feeling my broken bones. I screamed and fought as their hands held me down. But I tasted the drugs as they pumped them into my veins, then drifted off into the darkness again.

  When I finally woke up I saw Olin's face staring down at me.

  "Hi," he said softly.

  "Hi," I mumbled. "What day is it? Can I go home now?"

  He started to laugh.

  "Well can I at least have a cigarette?"

  I propped myself up on one elbow, taking a body inventory. All limbs accounted for. Searing pain in every muscle and a pounding head but I was alive. I slumped back on my pillow.

  "I think I need more painkillers."

  "I'll get the nurse," he put his hand gently on top of mine.

  "Wait. Parker?"

  "He's fine."

  "Thank God."

  "No," he said. "Thank you."

  I slept most of the day. The doctor came in to tell me I was lucky to be alive. Try telling me something I didn't know. I tried to talk him into letting me go home but he insisted I stay for observation. Something about concussions and internal bleeding. Plus the pesky issue of inhaling an unidentified hallucinogenic. I didn't really care. I pressed the call button for the nurse to bring more morphine. If I was going to have to stay there, I may as well take advantage of the services.

  Cops came and went. Some brought flowers, others stood about chatting to Olin. I drifted in and out of consciousness, sleep that didn't satisfy. Matt was still there, lurking in the shadows of my brain. I couldn't get rid of him.

  On the second day the hospital psychologist stopped by, a balding man with a striped tie and lined face. He pulled up a chair and looked at me expectantly.

  "How are we feeling after our brush with death Miss. Weber?"

  "Fine," I said. There was no way I was telling him the truth. They'd never let me out.

  "Any nightmares? Flashbacks? You've been through quite a traumatic ordeal you know."

  "I'm fine."

  "Would you like to talk about it?"

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  God. He was like a dog with a bone. Why couldn't he just accept that I wasn't going to talk about my personal demons with some stranger I just met?

  "Look, honestly I'm fine. In my line of work, shit happens. It's not the first time I've been injured and it probably won't be the last."

  "Perhaps you should consider changing careers," he said.

  He left me alone but his works stayed. Perhaps it was time to hang up my investigator’s hat and call it a day. Was my life really worth the risk? I thought of the late nigh stake outs and the early morning coffee
runs on my way to talk to a witness. What would I do if I didn't have that anymore?

  Olin came back with coffee and doughnuts from the cafeteria. He offered me the largest, a chocolate covered one. I shook my head.

  "You okay?" he asked.

  "Yeah."

  But deep down I knew I wasn't.

  EIGHTY FIVE

  They kept me imprisoned for three days under the pretense of running tests and observing. I knew the shrink just wanted to keep an eye on me. He was waiting for the reality of my ordeal to sink in and for some kind of dramatic meltdown to ensue. I wasn't going to let that happen. I could hold it all inside indefinitely.

  Olin distracted me by sneaking in food and forcing me to play board games with him. On the second day he brought Parker to visit.

  I stretched out my hand and the little boy shook it seriously. He had his Dad's eyes. I wondered how he managed to wrangle him away from Victoria.

  "You're Parker, right?"

  He nodded.

  "I'm Sam."

  "Say hello," Olin prompted.

  "Hi," he said. Then something caught his eye and his face lit up. "Can I have one of your cookies?"

  "Sure."

  I handed him the open packet and he took it with both hands.

  "Hang on champ. Just one okay? Your mother will kill me if I send you back to her on a sugar high."

  Parker started to laugh.

  "Sugar highs aren't real Dad. That's just something adults tell kids so they don’t eat too much candy."

  "Really?" Olin laughed and ruffled the boy's hair. "We'll see if sugar highs are real or not when you're crashing in an hour."

  Parker was a better distraction than Olin, who fussed too much and wanted to know if I needed anything. He was curious about my injuries and the functions of the different machines, asking a million questions.

  "What does that one do?" he pointed to the heart monitor.

  "It tells them if my heart is working or not."

  He looked wide eyed as he watched the green line jump up and down.

  "Is it?" he asked.

  "Yes Parker, it's fine," Olin said.

  One of the nurses fell for his blond haired, blue eyed charm and gave him some empty syringes to play with. He filled them up with water and spent the afternoon squirting us and any unsuspecting people who stopped in for a visit. I wasn't surprised that my own mother didn’t make an appearance. I’d probably gone back to being the daughter she told everyone was dead.

  As the afternoon wore on my pain level rose and my tolerance for Parker’s boundless energy fell.

  "I think maybe I'll try and take a nap," I told Olin.

  "All right," he said. I knew he was reluctant to leave my side but I needed a little space. "I'll be back later then?"

  "Why don't you just come back tomorrow? I think they're letting me out. I could use a ride."

  "All right," he said. "Come on Parker, get your stuff together. We're going home."

  He gave me a gentle hug and then left, cute kid in tow. I rubbed my forehead, trying to get rid of the headache that had been building all afternoon.

  "You all right?"

  My nurse came in the room to check my vitals and spotted the moment of weakness.

  "I'm fine," I smiled.

  I was back to being a liar again.

  EIGHTY SIX

  Olin picked me up and took me back to his house. I longed for my apartment and my belongings but I smiled and thanked him as I hobbled out to the car. I couldn't do much else. In another day or two I'd be well enough to drive home.

  "I'll order take out," Olin said gently.

  "That's fine. Listen, can we talk?"

  Parker was playing on the rug with his plastic cars. We couldn’t speak in front of him. He'd been through enough already.

  "Parker, why don't you go outside and play on the swing set?"

  "All right."

  He ran off to play outside and I settled deeper into the cushions with resignation.

  "I need to hear everything."

  "What more is there to tell?"

  I'd been interviewed by the captain. He knew my side of the story. What about theirs?

  "I guess I just don't understand why."

  "You'll drive yourself crazy trying to figure that one out. He was a sick fuck and now he's dead. The world is a whole lot better off."

  "But what about the maggots?"

  "I don't know," Olin said. "I guess he just thought it would freak us out."

  "He was good at that," I mumbled.

  "Look, everything is squared away. You don't have to worry anymore."

  He reached out to put his arm around me but I pulled away. I wasn't ready to commit myself to him again. Things were different now.

  "What about Harvey? The explosion? Pot head?"

  "We think he got them to do some of his dirty work. When he decided he didn't need them anymore, he eliminated them."

  "Just like that? Everything all neat and tidy? Packaged away with a file closed stamp on it."

  "That's how it works Sam. You know that."

  "Even when it's personal?"

  "Especially when it's personal."

  I stood up and walked slowly across the room to the open door. Parker was sitting on the swing, the sun catching his blond hair as he stuck his legs out and fought the air. He laughed and waved. I smiled back and lit up a cigarette. Olin didn’t try to stop me. The smoke wafted out on the breeze. Once I'd been like Parker. Innocent. Pure. No one had been there to protect me from all the evil that was out there. Someone should have been but they weren't. No one cared. But Parker had Olin. His Dad would always be there to make sure he was safe. I was the one who almost got the kid killed.

  “I’m so sorry Olin.”

  I fought back tears.

  “It’s okay.”

  He was there beside me, holding me as I sobbed. I turned into him, felt how warm and solid he was. A rock I could cling to in stormy seas. He pulled my face from his chest, forced me to look into his eyes.

  “I’m here for you, when you decide you want me. Okay?”

  I knew he wanted to kiss me. I wanted it too but it wasn’t the right time. Maybe when I felt better, after the shock and pain had worn off. Perhaps then we could be together. Maybe I’d even move in with him. I could do freelance investigative work for Captain Bright, help Olin with his cases. But I didn’t know if I could take that risk and besides I didn’t have to decide right now. I could just take in the moment and be glad that I was alive.

  THE END

  AUTHOR’S NOTES

  While there is a town in Florida called Tangerine, if you visit, you won’t find any resemblance to the Tangerine in this book. There is no Golden Sun Motel. No Sunset Palm Funeral Home. There may be oranges, but hopefully they are not filled with maggots. I made all that stuff up so don’t hold it against the town. It’s a lovely place.

  As always, please take a minute to leave a review if you liked this book. Your reviews help other people decide if they want to take a chance on an author and are greatly appreciated. Plus I love hearing from my readers. You guys rock!

  Stay tuned for more Sam and Olin adventures. I have a great follow up book, coming late fall 2013. You may even get to find out Detective Olin’s first name!

  Also, if you like dark horror and psychological thrillers, check out my new adult series. Book one ‘My Deliberate Mistake’ is out now. Book two ‘The Half-Truth’ is coming summer 2013.

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