Her Home Run Desires

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Her Home Run Desires Page 58

by Payne, Jenna


  ***

  Markus Strikes

  Blossom got up around ten in the morning and felt amazing. She took a shower. She made some coffee, and ate a casserole dish with tuna in it. She went out and as she was going down the walkway to her mail box, the police pulled up. She stood waiting for them. The officer got out and was looking grim. ‘

  “Hey Blossom, fancy meeting you here!” Blossom turned and saw Lisa walking towards her. She was wearing the silvery sparkly dress she had borrowed.

  “I thought you had a thing,” Blossom told her.

  “I do, I just wanted to come down here for a minute before I go,” said Lisa. Blossom found that suspicious as the officer walked around his car.

  “Good morning Mrs. Talon. How are you today, no problems?” he asked.

  “None. Have you found anything out yet?” she asked.

  “We have, could we go inside please?” she did not like the way the officer said that, and she glanced at Lisa.

  “It might be a good idea, honey,” Lisa told her.

  “Okay, sure come on. I have some coffee made,” said Blossom. Lisa walked with them up to Blossom’s house.

  “So you coming down here was not a coincidence was it,” Blossom said to Lisa.

  “Sorry, no it wasn’t. Officer Blakely here asked if I could be here when he spoke to you,” Lisa answered.

  Blossom got them all coffee with a growing feeling of fear in her belly. She smoothed her purple summer dress and sat on the couch.

  “Okay, tell me what is going on please,” said Blossom. The officer nodded and Lisa sat next to her.

  “I am all but positive that the young man you stopped from harming that child, Markus Hallow, is to blame for your house. Unfortunately we cannot tie him to it yet. His mother is alibiing him up one side and down the other; it barely holds. His two friends repeat only the same things he does. I am sure he told them what to say, and they are scared kids. They are more scared of him than me,” he said. Blossom frowned.

  “Now we have looked into Markus further and there are little things, dating back to his earlier childhood. Five years or better. School reports about incidents where he could not quite get caught, but the teachers knew, or believed, he was behind them. These are not nice things he is suspected of doing,” she interrupted.

  “Why are you telling me all this Officer Blakely?” Blossom asked.

  “Because of what was found this morning,” he began. Lisa took her hand.

  “A scarecrow, clothes stuffed with paper were found hanging on the swing, the same swing, where he was tormenting little Bella. It was wearing woman’s clothing and had a picture of your face. It was wearing a wig with hair approximating the color of your hair. This kid Mrs. Talon, does not have any remorse or feelings towards anyone. I know he went through a rough time as a young kid. That does not cover this, and I have been a cop long enough to know that some people are just born bad. I think he is one of them,” Lisa was squeezing her hand and she remembered facing off with the kid. She had stopped him from scaring the little ones, so obviously he was mad at her. Then Kelly had showed up and gave him hell, not to mention, he never got to finish what he started with Bella.

  “Okay, let me get this straight. He obviously is mad at me,” said Blossom, gesturing at her windows. “I am assuming because I stopped his fun, right?” The officer nodded.

  “Okay, now if he has done the things you suspect him of he is smart and he is going to do whatever he wants until he is caught, or stopped. Right?” The officer nodded again.

  Blossom felt a sudden coldness in her stomach. She had figured something out and she hoped she was in time. She jumped up.

  “We have to protect Kelly and Bella, is anyone at their house?” she asked moving towards the door.

  “Wait, Blossom what are you talking about?” Lisa shouted, but Blossom did not want to wait. So she yelled back as she took off down her walk.

  “Don’t you see? He never got to finish what he started with Bella and Kelly yelled at him in front of his friends. If he is mad at me then how mad is he at them?”

  She turned and began sprinting down the street with Lisa shouting for her to stop. She heard other neighbors asking what was going on but she was focused on running now, and she was good at it. Kelly lived just a couple blocks down so it was not far but her still-healing feet were hurting by the time she got close. She looked around shouting Kelly and Bella’s name. She could not see them anywhere. As she came to the little picket fence she jumped it into their yard and they rushed out on the porch as she got there. Blossom had never been so relieved.

  “Oh thank god you are alright! We need to—”

  Suddenly, a loud engine roared to life. A black, beat up old Firebird spun its tires causing a cloud of black smoke as it spun itself around in a circle, coming to a brief rest in front of Kelly’s house. They could see right in the window. It was Markus. He grinned and smoked his tires tearing off down the road. Then another engine got her attention and she looked back down the way she had come to see and gray pickup come racing down the street. It was Bret, following the kid, and after him Mack in his Camaro. By then the Officer Blakely had made it back to his car and was taking off after the others. Kelly was asking what the hell was going on as Lisa came up panting. She didn’t run much.

  After explaining to Kelly their suspicions, she was scared. As she should be Blossom thought. Blossom was not that scared for herself. It was only her and no children relying on her. But Kelly had Bella, who was much more vulnerable.

  Kelly also wanted to know about Bella’s friends, so she called their houses to check on them. By then Officer Blakely was back.

  “Your neighbors followed him out to the canyon road where he lost control of his car and rolled down and embankment. He was lucky it was only that. Unfortunately by the time we got down to the car, he was gone,” he reported.

  “And you haven’t found him?” Kelly asked in a shaky voice.

  “No, but he can’t have gone far,” he said.

  “Will Kelly, her daughter and her daughter’s friends and family get protective custody? Because it seems to me this little prick is not going to stop, pardon my French,” Said Blossom.

  “All of you will get it,” he said firmly.

  “I don’t need it. If that little psycho wants me he can come and find me. He knows where I live,” she said and turned walking out the door. Other cops had shown up and were coming up the drive.

  “He needs you inside,” she told them and they rushed past her as she kept going. Lisa caught up with her.

  “Are you nuts Blossom! What do you mean you don’t need it?” she said furiously. She did not take Lisa’s anger badly, though. Blossom knew Lisa was worried for her.

  “Look, Kelly and her friends have families and they need the protection more than I do. This Markus is going to keep coming no matter what we do, right. So let him come. I have half of an army for neighbors, not to mention Bret and Mack. Let him come for me. He won’t even get close and we can end this thing. I am serious Lisa. I am pissed and not going to put up with it any more. That fucking punk was just sitting there outside Kelly’s house and no one knew it! Everyone is in danger until he is caught, not just me. In fact aren’t you supposed to be at your sister’s?” Lisa narrowed her eyes at her. Just then a truck pulled up next to them as they walked. It was Bret.

  “You look a little pissed, Mrs. Talon,” he said. She half snarled and held up her hand with her forefinger and thumb a centimeter apart.

  “Want to go for some ice cream?” he asked out of nowhere. She stopped facing his truck as he stopped. She put her hands on her hips looking at him in his truck.

  “Are you kidding?” she asked startled. Her anger had slowed with this new strangeness.

  “Ice cream. It makes everybody feel better. Didn’t you know?” he asked with a devastatingly charming smile.

  “Good idea Mrs. Talon. You should go for ice cream,” said a woman’s voice behind them. Blossom turned
. A black-haired lady was standing there.

  “Huh?” said Blossom.

  “Really, you need to calm down and ice cream will work. I have a car that will follow you and your neighbor. I also like your other idea,” she said.

  “Which one?” Blossom asked. Lisa was just looking back and forth between them in confusion.

  “I am Detective Granger,” said the black-haired woman. “I have been assigned to your case. If everything I hear is right, then you putting yourself out there as bait is bound to work. I was right behind you both when you left the other house. I heard your whole plan. I tried to get your attention but you were busy arguing.”

  Now Lisa and Blossom looked at each other, then back at the detective. Blossom could see the badge on her belt.

  “You think my idea is good?” she asked, surprised.

  “Yep. While you are at the ice cream place I would like to go through your house and get acquainted with the exits and layout. That sort of thing. Do you mind?” Blossom shook her head and tuned back to Bret.

  “I guess we are going for ice cream, Mr. Nichols. See you in a little bit Lisa. Hang tight, I will be back.”

  Lisa grumbled as Blossom got in Bret’s truck. As they pulled out she heard Lisa.

  “Get me a shake!” she shouted. That was the final straw and Blossom began laughing, then Bret did. Right after he leaned over and kissed her. She leaned back and sighed. Life was weird, she thought.

  ***

  Blossom Strikes

  Everything was set as the sun went down. Detective Granger had come up with a great plan. At least Blossom thought so. Well, Blossom, Bret and Mack did. Granger’s bosses were not wild about it and neither were the other MPs, but since no one had been able to catch Markus, it was allowed to proceed. Lisa had been particularly upset about it until she got to play a part. Then she was all in. So Blossom was waiting in her own house with Detective Granger drinking coffee.

  “I have to say you are a brave woman Mrs. Talon,” the detective told her.

  “No not really. I am just too angry to care anymore,” said Blossom.

  Granger smiled. “Same thing,” she said. “So your neighbor, Bret, is it? He seems fond of you.”

  Blossom was startled. Then again they could be waiting all night and they had to find something to talk about.

  “Maybe,” was her reply.

  “And you, are you fond of him?” she asked.

  “Maybe,” Blossom smiled.

  “I thought so. I am pretty good at reading people. He is a good-looking guy. He has an exemplary record. Something of a war hero. He could be a good catch,” she said. Blossom started laughing. After a second so did Granger.

  “Sorry, this one-on-one thing is not my field of expertise. I am better with bad guys,” she admitted.

  “Ok then, what do you think about this Markus punk?” Blossom asked her.

  “My personal opinion is that he is what you have been told except something worse,” she said simply.

  “Meaning?”

  Meaning that yes he is probably a sociopath, but he has gone down a dark road for his age. Did you hear about his school incidents?” Blossom shook her head.

  “Only that there were some. I think the officer was trying to spare me,” she told her.

  “Okay. I think you are tough enough to know, and you deserve to know. Dead animals turned up in places he liked to frequent. Class gerbils. Neighbors cats and other assorted pets. None of it could be laid directly on him, it seems likely that those dead animals were dead because of him. He likes to kill, Blossom. He fits the profile, and I fear he is on the edge of becoming a serial killer.

  “It is rare to catch them this young. It is the only reason I would put you in danger. This is not some angry kid out for revenge. This kid needs to be stopped now because if he is not, years down the road, he could start killing people and like now, he won’t stop.”

  Blossom stared at Granger, thinking about what she had said.

  “You don’t seem very scared,” said Granger.

  Blossom shrugged.

  “Not much scares me anymore. I mean I am not stupid. I know how dangerous Markus could be and I guess there is some fear, I just don’t let it rule me.”

  They sat in silence for a while. Sipping coffee and listening to the jazz music Blossom had on low.

  “So, are you sure the others are safe?” she asked the detective. That was one fear she did have. Fear for others.

  “Yes of course. All of the possible targets, except you, are by now in another state. I don’t care how good he is, he cannot find them in less than a week. Nope, you are the dangling bait. By now he knows you are here and that Lisa is there. Like I said, you are the primary. You were the only one who has stopped him and you did it twice. Once on the playground and once at Kelly and her daughter’s house. You are what needs to go. In his twisted mind, once you are gone he can get the others. Why wouldn’t he think that way? The authorities have had no luck his whole life. Only you have stopped him.

  “That is why the press release said it is believed that he is dead or lost in the woods somewhere. We want him to think the hunt is going on out by Canyon Road. Actually one is going on out there right now, for appearances. He got away though. Between tonight or tomorrow he will show, I am sure of it.”

  Just then, Granger’s radio beeped. That meant Markus had been seen nearby. Blossom and Detective Granger looked at each other. They braced themselves and went to their positions.

  Blossom went out into her back yard. It was hot in the house. As she stepped out she heard a voice.

  “You are a dumb bitch, you know that right?” said the fifteen-year-old voice of Markus.

  “Markus McCoy,” she said to the thin youth. She reached over and turned on the patio light. His shadowy figure was now definable. Tall for his age, a hard uncaring face, and torn clothes. He had a bruise over one eye; an injury from the car crash most likely. But other than that he looked ready for action. Blossom had hoped he would be tired, not ready for their plan. Instead he looked eager and vicious. She sighed. She knew how much danger she was in, but had reached a point of sadness. Yes this kid was a nut job, but he was only fifteen. His chance of a decent life was gone for good. It had been for years and nobody had noticed.

  “So what will killing me prove Markus? Nothing to anyone but yourself.” Blossom had said exactly what Detective Granger had scripted. Get it out in the open, get him talking about what they were all sure he wanted to do.

  “I don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Proving stuff is a waste of energy. I do what I want and give people what they deserve. This is a messed-up world, I am merely playing my part. It is fun,” he said with a child-like manner. Like another child might talk about the park, saying “it’s fun.” Blossom moved over to the right and he shifted positions to match. Markus was in the wrong position.

  “What is fun about killing, kid?” she asked. She moved a little further to the side; so did he.

  “It is the greatest mystery, death. I am fifteen years old and I have figured that out,” he scoffed.

  “You’re wrong, boy. I know a little something about death. I have seen and felt my share. It is not a mystery. You are here and then you are gone. There is a hole that is left where you used to be. Even you will leave a hole when you die. Not for many, but I am sure there are a few who might miss you. That is death. It is not a mystery,” Blossom actually meant what she said. Markus just snorted in obvious disbelief.

  “Why are you coming after me Markus? There are plenty of other targets,” she said. Changing the subject. Keep him off balance if you can, Granger had told her. She shifted further to her right, along the bushes that lined that side of her patio. She had to get into position for when he got tired of talking.

  “They aren’t around. Probably in protective custody, hah! Everyone is so scared of a kid they moved my targets out of state. I may get your friend Lisa too. Just for laughs. You stayed though and so I get to kill you first,
then the others, one by one,” he said softly. He had tensed as he spoke and suddenly more lights flooded the backyard. Detective Granger was standing about fifteen feet behind the boy and Mack was about ten feet to her right. Both had weapons out and pointing at Markus.

  “Give it up Markus. You are completely surrounded,” Granger told him. He turned his head to look over his shoulder and laughed. It was a high pitched laugh, as though he was genuinely amused.

  “You are good, detective. I did not expect this. Then again that is the fun part!” he said and leaped at Blossom as a knife fell out of his sleeve into his hand. She cried out and stepped back. At the same time out, from out of nearby bushes, a towering man stepped out in front of her. He caught the boy’s wrist that had the knife before it could strike Blossom. He gave a quick jerk and Markus dropped the knife with a short cry and then Bret lifted him up with one arm and slammed him down on the patio table. He gripped his throat and bent over him. Everyone shouted for him to stop, but he stayed bent over the kid. Blossom could see Markus’s eyes. He was amused. Not an ounce of fear. She shuddered and she thought she saw Bret shudder too as he stood up and gestured for the Detective to take the Markus away.

  He backed up to stood next to Blossom. Everything worked and they were still alive!

  Two weeks later everything was back to normal. Almost, Blossom amended in her thoughts. She was now officially dating Bret, and everyone knew, so they did not have to hide it like they thought they might. They still liked going over the fence in the middle of the night for fun though.

  One night, she was relaxing naked in his arms, looking up at the stars.

  “You rock my world Bret, you know that?” she said.

  “Yep, you rock mine too, so I guess we are even then,” he replied. Blossom snuggled closer. He had saved her life so she was not sure they were even. She had no intention of arguing it though. She was far too happy.

  THE END

  Bonus Story 17 of 40

  The Queen and the Drakes

  She dreamed she was flying. Stacie Simmons, the girl who had been teased at school because she hadn’t worn a bra until she was fourteen, was flying. The girl who had spent most of her lunchtimes huddled in the library, away from the cold and the coldness of children. The girl who only had two lovers her entire life. The twenty-five-year-old working a dead-end job in a call center that just about paid the bills for her one-bedroom apartment. Yes, Stacie Simmons was soaring over America, looking down at her countrymen and smiling. They were not beneath her, but she was definitely above them in some hitherto indefinable way. Now it was real. Now she was really flying.

 

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