by Rick Murcer
Scott awoke to the bleating of his cell phone. Glancing at the lady asleep beside him and the two dogs snoozing at the foot of the bed, he answered the necessary-but-noisy contraption so as not to awaken any of them.
“McBride here.”
“Scott, it's John. I need you up at the pier, pronto.”
“Okay.” He paused a few seconds. Nothing. “Uh, any more info than that?”
“You'll soon see for yourself,” said Cocoa Beach's lead detective. “Don't dally.” Click.
Scott slid out from under the covers and, as he dressed, thought about his boss. John Patterson was a former New York City cop who looked like he'd been on the losing end of multiple barroom brawls. But he was one helluva police officer and Scott admired him to the max. So knowing Patterson would never summon him unless it was a dire situation, he grabbed his keys, pecked Erin on the cheek, tapped Jinx on the head, and motioned her to follow. They were both out the door within minutes.
Jabbing the button for the ground floor, he wondered what was up this early in the morning but had no time for further contemplation as the elevator arrived…and Jinx went ballistic.
* * * * *
Lenore stared at the black-clad man as he hurried towards the front entrance. She'd seen him yesterday carrying a few suitcases inside, so figured he was a new resident. Yet there was something very fishy about this guy and she leaned closer to the window to get a better look. Watching his head swivel from right to left—as if he was being chased—she frowned, thinking maybe she should call the police. But what would she say? The man who just moved in looks suspicious? And, more to the point, who would believe that an elderly woman who sat up all night staring out at the parking lot ever had anything worth reporting? Sighing, she settled back in her rocker. It sucked being older than dirt.
* * * * *
Luki's eyes went wide with fright when he saw the snarling dog, fangs bared. “What the fuck!? Get that thing away from me!” he snarled in return.
“I'm sorry, man,” Scott said as he grabbed Jinx by her collar and commanded her to sit/stay and shush.
“Yeah, well. Good thing I'm too fucking tired to kick his teeth in.”
Frowning, Scott said, “He's a she and, again, I'm sorry. Come on out, she'll be okay.” Starting to get a bit pissed, he laid his hand on Jinx's head to calm her down.
“Fucking better be! And since when were dogs allowed here?” Luki glared at the dog.
“Since they were built, over ten years ago. So, if you have a problem with that, guess you moved to the wrong place,” Scott spit out the words. “Oh, and by the way, they're allowed on the beach now, too, so better watch out,” he added.
“Yeah, well, whatever. I know I'll be filing a complaint with management about dangerous animals roaming the halls.”
Scott was now thoroughly pissed. “You do that, pal. Now, for your own good, hurry your ass out of there so we can be on our way.”
Luki skirted around the pair as they entered the elevator and Scott watched his receding back with disgust.
“Lovely new neighbor Erin has. A certified asshole,” he muttered to Jinx. She growled in response.
* * * * *
Scott reached the pier within fifteen minutes of John's call. Leaving Jinx in his Tahoe, he hurried down to the water's edge and was glad he hadn't eaten breakfast when he saw the woman's body. Or what was left of it.
Splayed on the sand like a petrified starfish, arms and legs spread-eagled, her face was obliterated by stab wounds that the sand crabs had found too enticing to resist. The woman's lips were gone, leaving nothing behind but a death's head grimace. Breasts were gone, too…the word “whore” etched in blood above the gaping holes in her chest.
Scott approached John and asked, “So what do we know so far?”
“A surfer found her. Came out to check the waves and saw her hair wrapped around a piling. Thought it was some weird kind of seaweed. Poor kid's in shock, I think. Anyway, she was sodomized with a sharp instrument—probably the same knife—then strangled…with her hair. Must be at least three feet long.” Patterson ran his hand over his face. “And there's so much damn blood, it's a wonder the sharks haven't had a feast yet.”
Scott shook his head. All he could think of at the moment was, thank God, he'd left Jinx in the SUV.
…Five years ago, Scott McBride's wife—Debra, by name—had decided that being married to a cop was the absolute pits. So she'd packed her bags, cleaned out the savings account, left a scribbled note that sort of said she was sorry, and split for parts unknown.
Scott didn't bother looking for her. He knew the marriage was a mistake from Day One, especially when Debra started whining about his job on Day Two. But as he had become accustomed to having another living being in the house, he decided to get a dog.
And along came Jinx. Serendipity smiled on both of them when the former Military Working Dog came up for adoption. She’d been severely injured in Afghanistan while trying valiantly to save her handler, who had bled to death in the skirmish.
Because she was so traumatized, Jinx was taken out of commission soon after and returned to the states, where the MWD adoption program began seeking a suitable home. A friend of a friend told Scott her story and he knew then he had to have her.
Her arrival on his doorstep was an instant success. The two floundering souls bonded immediately and Scott knew he'd do anything to protect Jinx…and vice versa.
Over time, Jinx seemed to completely recover from her nightmare. Except for one small detail: she absolutely went berserk at the sight and smell of blood.
* * * * *
Luki was almost hyperventilating after the unexpected encounter with the beast from hell. Fucking dirty animals. Fucking dirty women.
He stripped out of his clothes as fast as he could and jumped in the shower, hoping to rid himself of the repugnance of the last few hours. Praise God, he had the foresight to wear dark colors or else the copious amount of blood would've been a dead giveaway to the man waiting for the elevator.
As he lathered himself from head to toe, he wondered who the guy was. Then he remembered. It was that guy fucking the brazen redhead next door. Slut. All of them, sluts. Luki let the hot water wash away some of his anger…that and the fact he had rid the earth of one of America's hussies allowed him a modicum of peace. Yet he knew in his heart that this was just the beginning, his rage nowhere close to being appeased. Maybe he'd get a few hours sleep, then go hunting again. This time in broad daylight.
Friday, March 23 - 11AM
Hanging up the phone, Erin looked up as Scott entered her office. Listening to his staccato account of the gruesome sight he'd encountered earlier, her freckled face paled.
“Oh my God! How horrible!” She hugged him tight and gently touched his cheek. “Are you okay??”
“Well, I have to tell you, sweetie, I never in a million years thought I'd see something like that.” Scott held her close. “Not here, anyway.”
Pulling away, she walked over to the window and hung her head. Her shoulders started to shake. “Jesus, Scott. What kind of freaking monster could do such a thing? Do you know who the girl is?”
“We're trying to find out both identities, babe. Techs are still working on the victim. Again, this kind of shit doesn't happen very often, thank God.” He went up behind her and rested his head on top of hers. “Which means, I'll probably be out of pocket a lot until we do catch the bastard. So I wonder if you'd do me a favor?”
Erin whirled around and said, “Anything you need me to do. Anything.”
He smiled at her. “Actually, it shouldn't be too hard…would you keep Jinx with you since I'll be gone a helluva lot longer than usual? She'd be good company for Bo and...”
Erin interrupted him. “Of course, I will!” She gave him a rueful grin. “Just wish I could keep you with me, too.”
“Well, while you have me, want to grab an early lunch? I finally got a little appetite and I have a feeling this day is going to last a week.
How about we go down to Bananas?”
* * * * *
Bananas on the Beach was hustling and so was Suzy Kramer, but her mind was definitely not on the job. Her best friend hadn't shown up for her shift. Neither had repeated phone calls, text messages, nor voice mails yielded a response so Suzy was becoming increasingly worried. Where the hell was Amy?
The couple at the corner table briefly took her mind off her angst as she tried to pick up the slack and hurriedly scribbled their order before being summoned to the back by her boss.
“Suzy. Do you have any idea where Amy is?” The bar and grill's manager looked as frazzled as she felt.
“I'm sorry, Dave, I don't. I've tried everything to get in touch with her but no luck. And I'm getting really concerned.”
“Yeah, I know. Amy's never late. Or not without letting me know anyway.” He blew a huge sigh and said, “Just hope everything's okay.”
“You and me both. I gotta get movin' now.”
“Sure. And thanks for pulling the extra weight.”
Suzy grabbed the double order of the cheeseburger combo and nearly ran to the couple by the window. “Sorry, we're shorthanded, so it's been a little hectic.”
“I can tell,” Scott said. “But, hey, you're doing great.”
“Thanks. Just hope Amy is,” Suzy muttered under her breath.
Noticing the look on the server's face, Scott asked, “Something wrong?”
“Oh, it's just that my friend is supposed to be here, and I don't know where she is. Hope she didn't get snatched by a rapist or anything,” Suzy said with a forced laugh.
Scott went on high alert with her words. “Uh, what does your friend look like? I mean, I'm with the Cocoa Beach Police so maybe I can help.”
“Really? You're a cop? Anyway, Amy—that’s her name, Amy Blair—has really long, blond hair, big blue eyes…beautiful, she is. Just turned twenty-three last week.”
Scott's facial expression hid his alarm. “Well, I tell ya what. Here's my cell number. If you don't hear from her by this evening, give me call.”
“Gee, thanks. I'm really hoping she just overslept. Maybe had a hangover since she usually goes out after we get off work at night.” Suzy hesitated, then said, “I'm married so…”
“Okay, well, don't worry too much. You're probably right. Partying at spring break can be overdone sometimes.”
“Hey, thanks again.” Suzy glanced over her shoulder. “Gotta go now. Enjoy your lunch.”
Yeah, right, Scott thought as he punched John's number into his cell. He glanced at Erin and said, “I think we may've just identified our victim.”
* * * * *
Lenore had nodded off in her perch beside the front bay window and awoke with the sun blazing into the room. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she yawned and thought about making something to eat when she saw the creepy new neighbor emerge from the lobby.
Settling back down in her rocker, she watched him climb into a black Cadillac Escalade just like her dear, departed Bernie's, may he rest in peace. She kept watching as he pulled out of a parking space, wondering why he hadn't used his garage yet. Well, waltzing in at the crack of dawn and flying out at noon…must be in one helluva hurry, this one.
Lenore got up and went to the kitchen, the man still on her mind.
* * * * *
Christy Anderson slathered on the Coppertone, put on her sunglasses, then plopped a hat on her head. Sitting up to survey the scene, her shining blond hair hung to the sand like a golden cape.
“Isn't this the coolest, Wen?” she asked her roommate who was already lying prone on the blanket, trying to get a tan as fast as she could. “I mean, this place is packed!!”
“Yeah, so I noticed. A little too much for me, but I guess this is what spring break's all about.”
“Oh, you're such a party-pooper.” Christy's head was jerking in all directions like a drunken marionette and her smile was a mile wide. “Come on, Wendy. Get with the program. Don't you want to meet people? Or at least one person? Like a really cool guy?”
As Wendy Stephens was already engaged to her high school sweetheart who was currently serving another term in the futile Afghanistan war, her entire reason for being in Florida was to take her mind off his deployment.
“Christy. I know you're hot to trot but, duh, remember Mike? My fiance?”
“Okay, okay. Don't get huffy. Just thought you'd at least like to talk to someone of the opposite sex. I mean, that's not exactly going to violate your vows, is it?”
Wendy rolled her eyes, then closed them. “No, Christy, it won't. But unless it's someone who's more interested in conversation than a screw job, I'm perfectly fine working on my tan.”
“You are no fun, Wen. But, hey. Don't look now. Here comes someone who just might be.”
Christy glanced up at the muscular guy looking down at her with a smile that made hers seem like a weak imitation. Shaved head, brilliant white teeth, deep dimples, fathomless black eyes…
“Hi there, pretty darlin'…may I ask your name?” Luki dropped to the sand beside her and Christy Anderson was a goner.
* * * * *
After Wendy's half-asleep blessing, Christy scampered off to the pier's open-air Tiki Lounge for a drink with the dark and dashing stranger. A few wine coolers later, she found herself feeling the heat of more than Florida's blazing sun.
“So, Larry, would you like to go out dancing tonight?” Christy batted her eyelashes and grinned, hoping she appeared sufficiently sexy to the hunk across the table who was definitely so.
“Uh, what did you say, darlin'? I was lost in your eyes.” Luki had almost forgotten that he'd given this bimbo a false name.
“I said, do you want to go out with me tonight? We could have a really super time,” Christy repeated, thinking maybe she'd come on too strong.
“You know, that sounds great. But what I'd really love to do right this minute is ravage your body.” Luki winked and flashed his dimples, praying she'd agree.
Christy felt her pulse flutter and took his hand. “If you promise to be gentle, I'd love that, too.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Luki said as he plunked down a twenty-dollar bill on the table and stood up. “But where can we go? I walked down here, plus my brother was still sleeping when I left the room so we sure as hell don't want to go there, do we?”
Christy laughed and said, “No, we sure don't. So let's go to my motel.” She jiggled the Corvette's keys in her purse. “Wendy is stuck for now. But she'll be fine. All she wants to do is bake to a crisp anyway.”
Luki pulled out her chair and said, “In that case, after you, my princess. Let's go make magic.”
* * * * *
Hot and sweaty from the humidity and the anticipation of “Larry's” body against hers, Christy went right to the thermostat and cranked up the air-conditioning. Turning to him with what she hoped was her most sexy smile, she froze in fright and stammered, “Larry, why on earth did you put your shirt back on? And what's with the rubber gloves?”
Luki's eyes glazed over as he punched her in the mouth. “Shut the fuck up or I'll slit your throat.”
Christy's front teeth shattered. She gagged and tried to run for the door. Yanking on her long hair, Luki pulled the switch blade from his jeans pocket and flashed it before the girl's terrified eyes.
“You're all whores. Nothing but dirty whores,” he whispered in her ear as he jammed the knife through her neck.
Blood gushed onto his shirt and, disgusted, he continued to ram the knife through Christy's cheeks, mouth…and breasts. Flipping her over, he repeatedly shoved the blade up her shithole in a grisly imitation of intercourse and felt an amazing sense of release.
Panting heavily, Luki stopped and swallowed hard. Taking just a minute to calm himself, he flipped her again and started carving on her stomach.
Friday, March 23 - 5PM
Beer in hand, Scott joined Erin and the dogs on the balcony. “So, how was your day?”
“Lo
usy, to be honest. After we had lunch, I had to euthanize two very old dogs and it broke my heart.” Erin looked down at Bo, who had just turned twelve. “But, you know, they at least lived good, long lives and their owners loved them dearly. Not like the son-of-a-bitch who dumped Bo just because he didn't want to deal with 'old age' issues. Ain't that right, baby?” Her beloved mutt thumped his tail at the sound of her voice.
Scott draped his arm across her shoulders and said, “Don't know how you do it. I mean, I realize it needs to be done but that has to be really tough.”
Erin brushed her hair away from her face along with a tear. “It is and it isn't. We know they can't live forever.” She turned and said, “But what about your day? Any progress?”
Scott sighed and took a swig of his Bud Light. “Yeah. The victim was that girl from Bananas, Amy Blair. After what Suzy told us at lunch, I kind of figured that. But still don't have a friggin' clue about her killer. Salt water does an awesome job of diluting evidence if there was even any to begin with.”
Erin hugged him. “God, I sure as hell hope you find that it was someone she knew. I mean, we definitely don't need a random rapist here, especially with all the college kids visiting now. Talk about a smorgasbord of flesh, to put it bluntly.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Scott put his empty can in the garbage, kissed Erin, stroked the two dogs, and headed for the door. “Back to work, babe. Call ya later.”
* * * * *
Wendy looked at her watch. “Where the hell are you, Christy?” she mumbled to herself. “Oh, screw it.” She packed up their stuff, which amounted to only two towels and a small cooler, and trudged towards the pier, dialing Christy's cell at the same time. No reply.
“Damn! I’m going to kick her horny ass!” Wendy said aloud and kept moving. Thankfully, their motel was within walking distance. Fifteen minutes later, she noticed the Corvette parked in front of their room so she banged on the door, not giving a shit what she might be interrupting. No reply.