by Tim Miller
“Wow, good thing I removed that for you,” she said. “You got something stuck in your teeth there.” She looked at it and tossed it aside as she looked over her handiwork. Dirk’s face was now eyeless and jawless as he made sick squealing, gurgling sounds. She was surprised he hadn’t died of shock yet, but was pleased he live to experience the whole thing.
It was time for one final thing. She took the hacksaw and began cutting away at the top of his head. When she finally got the skull cap off, it was jagged and far from surgical precision, but the brain was exposed. She tried to pull the brain out cleanly, but ended up having to cut it up into four or five large pieces and placed them in the bucket as well.
Now that Dirk was obviously dead, she wrapped his body up in the plastic covering the table and began the cleanup. It didn’t take as long as she feared. She balled up all the plastic and stuffed Dirk’s body in one of the trash cans while packing his son’s body into the other. She put the Wendigo mask into the trunk and poured the skin and brains into a cooler packed with ice. She cleaned out the bucket with bleach and placed it in the corner.
Last thing she did was took a quick shower in the portable shower and cleaned up the rest of the unit with more bleach. All that remained of her work was the two trash cans and the cooler. She placed them all into the back of the SUV and headed out.
She drove out to the Lake Austin part of the Colorado River and parked along the bridge. It was still plenty dark out and there were no other cars in the area. She rolled each garbage can out and pushed them off the bridge, watching them sink into the water. If anyone did find them, any evidence will have been washed away or eaten by the fish. She stood there watching for a few minutes, making sure they didn’t come bobbing back up, which they didn’t.
Bailey climbed back into the SUV, her stomach was growling as she thought about returning home with her cooler full of goodies. This would be an interesting breakfast. She wasn’t sure if she’d really become more powerful like the Wendigo or if she was just losing her mind. Either one was possible she supposed. After last time, she decided not to eat anymore raw flesh or organs.
As she drove home, she ran down a checklist in her mind to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything or left any evidence behind that would lead the cops once again to her door. Though they would likely come around anyway, since she knew Dirk. That should be a few days at least. As far as she could remember, she covered all her bases. When she pulled into her garage, all she could think of was her new modified recipe for bacon and eggs.
Chapter 10
Bailey was scarfing down her breakfast. The bacon and eggs recipe worked perfectly. Though it was really Dirk’s skin cut into long strips and fried with his brains sautéed in butter, chopped into small chunks and “scrambled” with the bacon. She added some salt and seasonings and there it was. It was quite good.
Once finished, she felt stuffed. There was plenty left in the pan she couldn’t even finish. It was a shame to let it go to waste, so she packed it into a container and placed it in the fridge. That could be her dinner, or breakfast for tomorrow. She changed clothes and was just about to climb into bed when someone began knocking on her door once again. Her first fear was the cops were about to bust her for killing Dirk and his son, but she figured they’d be kicking down her door with SWAT teams and shit.
She opened the door once again to see Detective Schmidt standing there.
“Good morning Bailey,” he said. “Can I come in?”
“What is this about?”
“Gordon Freidman. We found his body.”
Shit. Well she knew they’d find it eventually.
“Oh? He’s dead?” She said.
“Yes. He’s dead. Can I come in please?”
She stepped aside and let him inside. He walked in and glanced around.
“Thank you. Something smells really good,” he said.
“Oh yeah. I just made breakfast. I there’s plenty left if you want some. I was just about to put it away.”
“Really? That’d be great.”
She tried not to laugh as she headed into the kitchen, grabbed the container and dumped onto a plate, grabbed a fork and a soda and brought it out to the detective. He smiled as he took it and had a seat.
“So you live alone?” He asked.
“Yeah,” she said trying to seem unsettled by the news of Graves’ death.
“This is really good. I love bacon and eggs. What did you add to it?” He asked.
“I don’t know, just butter and some seasonings. I try to be creative when I cook and use brains as much as I can.”
“Well you’re a smart lady that is for sure,” he said as he took a bite of the crispy bacon before taking a drink of soda. “Ok. So about Gordon, or Graves as you know him. You told me a little bit before. Why were you so stand offish before? Did you know he was dead?”
“No. I was just tired. You’d woken me up and then acted like I somehow knew where he was. We had some drinks and he passed out, so I left.”
“So when you were there, did you see anyone else in the apartment at all? Anyone coming or going or anyone who looked weird or strange?”
“No. No one.” Though she wondered if she should make a person up to get him off her ass. Except if they found out there was no one that would really look suspicious on her. Either way, she was struggling not to bust out laughing at him eating Dirk’s skin and brains as if it were his last meal.
“We went over his apartment with luminal, there was blood everywhere. Someone had really cleaned up, and then they took a shower. Whoever it was, cleaned the shower and even the drain. You’re the last person we can find who was anywhere near him. Then there is the matter of he’d been mutilated pretty badly.”
“Holy shit. Seriously?”
“Yeah. Seriously. Including his penis had been cut off and his testicles had been removed.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Right. Now, this is where you come in as well. Something like that, which is rage. It is removing his manhood and emasculating him. It’s not something a burglar would do or even a crime of passion. He was systematically tortured in the most humiliating ways imaginable. I think a woman may have done this, or at least had a part in it. He wasn’t a small guy, so not sure how a girl could have over powered him, but we are waiting on his toxicology.”
“So you think I did this?” She sat up. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No. No, I’m not saying that at all. Just trying to tell you what happened after you left and see if anything comes to mind. There is one more thing I want you to know. As we searched his apartment and went through his things, we found a collection. Jewelry, necklaces, locks of hair that all belonged to girls who have been reported missing in the last five years. There were at least eight different women’s belongings we could identify so far.”
“Oh my God. You think…”
“I think he was a serial killer. None of these girls were ever found and they were all various demographics. White, Hispanic, black, college age, and middle age. So none of their disappearances triggered anything.”
“Holy fuck.”
“I think you’re lucky he passed out, Bailey. No telling what he could have done to you.”
“Wow. That’s crazy.”
“Part of me wonders if one of his victims’ family didn’t find out what he had done and got some revenge. Either way, his family is denying all of this and wants someone caught. So I’m on the case, but it sounds like someone may have done us a huge favor and maybe saved some lives,” he said as he sat the plate down and finished off the soda. As he stood, he nodded to Bailey. “Thank you again for breakfast. Never had anything like it.”
“I’m certain of that,” she said.
“So I’m glad you’re safe. Just be careful. Oh, why aren’t you at work?”
“They fired me after you stopped by last time. They thought I was involved somehow with Graves disappearing. My boss is friends with his parents.”
“Oh no. I�
�m sorry. I told them I just had a couple questions for you. I never said you were a suspect. I can give him a call if you’d like.”
“No. Don’t worry about it. I needed a change anyway.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” she said. Though it would be interesting to watch them all wonder about Dirk. She wondered if Detective Schmidt would be on that case also.
“Ok. Suit yourself. Have a good day, Bailey.” He said as he walked out. Though he looked like he was just a few years older than her, Schmidt had this weird quality like he could have been a doctor or something. The way he spoke and carried himself was all so clinical. She wondered if he was that way all the time or if it was a work persona. Either way, she was glad he was off her trail. Last thing she needed was legal problems while honing her new skill.
So far, she was doing pretty well. Though out of nowhere a burst of laughter hit her. It quickly turned into a giggle fit as it sank in, she just fed a cop the brains of a murder victim he wasn’t even aware of. She wondered how it would go down for him. Would he get sick later and throw it up? Or just shit Dirk out like the piece of shit Dirk really was. It was a funny thought. She was finally able to calm herself down as she climbed in bed. As she closed her eyes, a smile came across her face as she thought about all she had accomplished the last few days and in who she was becoming.
Chapter 11
Ezra sat at the bar tapping the ashes from his cigarette into an empty glass while nursing his rum and Coke. The bar was dark and had a jukebox that only played 70’s music. It wasn’t even good 70’s music, it was the bottom half of the top forty. As he smoked his cigarette, the greasy bartender stood there glaring at him as if he owed the guy money. Ezra stared back until the guy finally grew enough balls to speak up.
“Hey grandpa, there’s no smoking in here.” The bartender said. Ezra didn’t appreciate the grandpa comment, but he didn’t let his annoyance show. He just took another drag from the smoke.
“Hey! You deaf pal?” The bartender was an overweight, middle aged guy who was trying to put on a New Jersey accent, but this was Dallas and Ezra wasn’t impressed.
“I heard you,” Ezra said.
“Ok. So how about it? Put that shit out.”
“No.”
“All right. You wanna be an asshole. Fine. Hey! Dave! Got a tough guy here! Pops here thinks he can smoke!”
A large, muscular guy came walking over and glared at Ezra. Ezra didn’t move from his stool.
“Is there a problem old man?” He asked.
“I don’t have a problem,” Ezra said, taking another drag.
“I’ll take that cigarette if you don’t mind.”
“I actually do mind. You can have it when I’m done though.”
The bouncer reached up as if to grab it, but before he could Ezra punched him in the center of the throat. The bouncer’s eyes went wide as he grabbed his throat, gagging and wheezing before stumbling to the ground. Ezra turned around to the bartender who was backing away from the bar and took another drink.
“You got something else to say, slick?”
“I’m going to call the cops.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Ezra warned. “You saw what I just did to him? I was being nice. You pick up that phone and I might not be so nice. I can crush your larynx and be halfway to Oklahoma City before the cops get here. There’s no cameras in this place, so good luck identifying me to them, especially if you can’t talk. Or you can let me finish my cigarette.”
The bartender thought for a second, and then turned around to straighten some bottles. Ezra had thought as much.
For being sixty-three years old, Ezra hadn’t lost a step. He’d dealt with much bigger and badder than a meathead bouncer in some shithole bar. He spent years as a Dallas cop before going into private security. During his time on the force, he’d come across every nasty scumbag you could imagine. Some of them were also wearing badges. He once had a guy twice this bouncer’s size shoving a gun in his face. Over the years he’d built a reputation for doing what needed to be done. Ezra is still alive, and that asshole isn’t. Despite his calm demeanor and blank facial expressions, Ezra’s mind was sharper than most and nothing went unnoticed around him. He could read almost anyone the instant they walked into a room and knew what they’d do in a confrontation before they did. From behind him, he heard a familiar voice.
“Still causing trouble, huh old friend?” The voice said. Ezra turned around to see Lawrence Freidman standing there. The man owned Freidman Foods and was Ezra’s former employer. It had been a long time, but they were still friends. Many years ago when Lawrence was a young entrepreneur, he’d had a short political career with a few terms as a state senator and four years in congress. Lawrence hired Ezra right out of the Dallas P.D. to work for him as his private security.
As the head of Lawrence’s private security detail, he made a lot of money. Though he also did a lot of questionable things. Some things were outright wrong, but he was being paid to do a job and he did it. Sometimes the job required stuffing a few old skeletons into the closet. Others he had to make some new skeletons in order to protect the old ones. Having the trust of a powerful man like Lawrence wasn’t something Ezra took lightly and he’d do anything to preserve it. He’d already sold his soul, what else was left?
“Hey Larry! Great to see you.” Ezra said as he stood and shook Lawrence’s hand.
“Glad you could make it old friend,” Lawrence said.
“I told you. Anytime, just call. You said this was urgent so I won’t waste your time. Whaddya got?”
“It’s Gordon. He’s dead.”
“What? Are you kidding me?” Ezra remembered when Gordon was just a toddler. He’d have to supervise the kids to and from school on some occasions. Gordon had been a good kid, but he’d gotten weird as he got older.
“No, he moved to Austin a few years ago. Took on this whole starving artist persona and called himself Graves. Fucking weird hipster shit. I told him to stay out of Austin. His family and everyone he knows is up here. But he said he wanted to start over or some shit. Anyway, my friends on the department down there said he was tortured and mutilated pretty badly. They think a girl did it and I have an idea who.”
“Why would a girl mutilate your son?”
“Ezra. They cut his fucking dick off! And his balls.”
Ezra nodded and waited for an answer to his question.
“As far as why, I don’t know. My friends say they found stuff belonging to some missing girls. They think he may have killed them.”
“You mean he was a serial killer?”
“No! Gordon wouldn’t hurt anyone. Yeah, he had a violent streak since he was a kid. I know you had to clean up a few of his messes.”
Ezra remembered having to pay off the family of a girl he’d raped in high school. He’d taken her to the parking lot during a school dance and when she told him no, he worked her over really well before raping her. The girls’ parents were all ready to press charges when Lawrence sent him to talk to them. He’d offered to pay the girl’s full four years tuition and expenses at any college of her choice. He also paid off the families debts and offered the girl a trust fund of $2 million upon her graduation from college. The girl was angry, but her parents agreed. All in all it was chump change to Lawrence, but kept his son out of trouble, but he couldn’t buy his way out of everything.
“Yeah,” Ezra said. “I remember.”
“So just crazy things like that. He’d never kill some girl and keep trophies. The cops down there are on crack.”
“So what do you need me to do?”
“This girl.” Lawrence pulled up a picture on his phone. “This girl is an attorney there in Austin. Her name is Bailey Hart. She was the last girl seen with him. She claims they were at his place and had a few drinks and she left. A few days later he’s found all cut up and stuffed in a trunk in his own closet.”
“So you think this girl killed him?”
/> “I think she had something to do with it, or knows someone who did. I want you to find out. Do whatever it takes.” Lawrence handed Ezra a thick envelope. Ezra looked and flipped through the cash. He’d count it later. For now, he tucked it into his jacket. “That will get you started. Expenses are included. If you need more just let me know and I’ll wire it immediately.”
“So you want me to find this lawyer named Bailey and question and torture her if I have to.”
“I don’t want to know what you do. I’m telling you do whatever it takes to find out what happened to my son. I refuse to believe she knows nothing. If she was involved, then pay her back for Gordon tenfold. You’ll do that?”
“Like you said, whatever it takes,” Ezra said as he finished off his drink.
Chapter 12
Bailey sat across from her brother playing with her food as he talked about nothing. She only saw Brian once a year, maybe every other year. Since their parents died, he got this idea of them having an annual dinner together. They took turns buying. This year was her turn. Every other year it had just been the two of them. This time though, he decided to bring his new girlfriend, Cassie.
Cassie was everything Bailey hated. She was pretty, had a perfect body and tits, was probably smarter than she acted and was a complete bitch.
“So you’re his older sister?” Cassie asked.
“Yep. By about two years.”
“Oh! How cute! And he’s already a partner at his law firm. One of the biggest in the country. What’s taking you so long?” Cassie said laughing loud enough people at the other tables were looking.
“Yeah, I guess we just have different goals.”
“Like what? You want to be an overpaid law clerk? I am so proud of Brian. In just a year he worked his way right on up!” She took another sip of her wine. She’s only gone through half the glass, but was apparently a lightweight. While Cassie and Brian made googley eyes at each other, Bailey couldn’t help wondering what her liver would taste like with that same wine.