David’s car was a sight to behold. Every window was busted. Each tire was flattened and shredded. The side view mirrors? Gone. The interior of the car was worse. It appeared that someone had a good time tossing fish guts, days old road kill, trash, and other unmentionables in the front and back seats.
The creative art work and the misspelled ‘fagot’ keyed into all the exterior surfaces was the dead giveaway that Chris had struck….again. I shook my head in disbelief as I began to walk to the perimeter of the vehicle for a third time to take in the damage. I had to give it to Chris. The guy was thorough in his acts of destruction. Not a single surface was left unmarred. I turned and noticed that, much like my bike, David’s car was left with the gas tank wide open. I pointed at the gas door while looking over to David. “You might want to have that cleaned before you attempt to start this car.” My eyes swept over the vehicle again as I muttered, “Or maybe you should just call a junk yard and buy something else.”
David had not yet uttered a sound since we arrived. After shaking off his initial shock, Daemon brought the phone to his ear. I assumed he was calling Detective Troy. I approached David while he continued staring silently at his car. Taking him into a hug, I whispered comforting words. “It’s okay, David, we’ll deal with this. It’s only a car.”
Daemon hung up his phone before heading back in our direction. “The police are on their way. Detective Troy requested that we remain here until she’s had a chance to talk to you, Paige.”
“Talk to me?” I released David from my hug to turn and glare at Daemon. “Why does she want to talk to me?! I didn’t do anything this time!” The guilty look on Daemon’s face was all I needed to know that he’d said something to the detective that wouldn’t make me happy. “What’d you tell her, Daemon?”
He took two large steps towards me and took me into his arms. I braced my arms between us in case I was so mad at his confession, I needed instant distance between us. It was a good thing I did, because when Daemon admitted he’d told Detective Troy about our scheduled trip to the trailer park, I needed to put at least ten feet between us to keep from tearing him a new asshole.
“What the fuck, Daemon?! Now she’s going to tell me not to go over there and they’ll go over and fuck everything up! That was MY intel, my clue…not theirs. You had no right giving her that information without talking to me about it first!”
“Paige, shut the fuck up for a second and let me finish!”
My jaw clamped shut as I allowed him to explain his obvious fucked-up logic.
“She wanted us to come down to the station to talk with her. I explained that we had plans to check up on a lead you may have found on Chris. She agreed to come down and discuss the lead with you. Being that you are a licensed P.I., she’s allowed to let you investigate…”
“But, I’m a victim as well, Daemon. There’s no way in hell they’ll allow a victim to investigate.”
His glare reminded me that I was supposed to be shutting the fuck up. I threw him a quick apologetic look and then crossed my arms as I waited patiently for him to continue.
“She was impressed with the information you discovered at the flea market. Realizing that you seem to be able to get people talking more than the police, she wants to get you working WITH her in this hunt. She thinks this lead is a long shot, so that’s why she is allowing it. She admitted that if she thought it would take you too close to Chris, she’d be against it.”
I began pacing where I stood. I wanted to scream at Daemon for talking to the detective without first asking me. His idea of ‘partners’ needed a clearer definition, but at this point, yelling at him wouldn’t do anybody any good. I finally just took a couple deep, calming breaths and started moving towards the stairs. Looking back at David and Daemon, I said, “Well, come on. We came here to get Annie some things and I’m not leaving without them. Standing around won’t help. It’s not like David’s car will be going anywhere, any time soon.” Both men trudged up behind me and, luckily, no surprises were left for us within the apartment itself.
As I packed up some more clothes from my room, Detective Troy came through the door. “Miss Stone. It’s a pleasure to see you again, despite the unfortunate circumstances.”
I was a little surprised to see her dressed in a pair of jeans with a button down shirt. Normally, this woman was dressed like she meant business. She must have noticed my appraisal because she explained, “I wasn’t supposed to be working today. However, I went into the office for a brief period. Daemon happened to call while I was there.”
I nodded. “What did you need to talk to me about, Detective? I don’t have a lot of time before we have to get out of here. The trailer park is about forty-five minutes away.”
“I understand that, Paige. Daemon’s already told me where the park is located. I’ll just get to the point. I don’t like you continuing this investigation on your own, Miss Stone. I don’t think you understand the seriousness of Chris’ obsession with you. I can’t understand it myself and I’ve torn through every single piece of his apartment to try and figure it out. Were you aware he was watching you since your first encounter at the bar?”
My eyes shot to hers. “What? No. He didn’t know anything about me until Annie brought him home. Why do you think it started before that?”
“We found a napkin from Tomb in his apartment. The tag number from your motorcycle was written on it. On top of that, there were several pages in his journal detailing a job you worked for your employer. He had pictures of you sitting in your car, Paige. We called your employer and they advised that the job occurred two days before the attack.”
My skin crawled at the thought of having been watched so closely. If Chris were not clearly a contender for the ‘psychopath of the year’ award, I would recommend he get himself licensed as a PI. Despite the creeped out feeling, I had to break it to Detective Troy that she was off on her timeline. “I took that job the day after Chris had been kicked out of my apartment. In fact, I’d run into him that morning while buying coffee. I’m not surprised that he followed me. That still doesn’t prove that he’d been watching me since the night at Tomb.”
“Paige, Annie was a setup. I hate to have to be blunt, but I’m going to at this point. He mentioned it in his journals, Ms. Stone. She was never his intended target. He must have used her to obtain more information on you. How he made the initial connection, I’m not sure. However, he could have used your tag number to obtain your address. You’re an investigator Ms. Stone. You, of all people, should understand how easy it is to Google a person and come away with everything you need to know about them down to their shoe size.”
I snickered at her statement. It was true. People were kind of ignorant about the type of information they post about themselves on a daily basis. With the correct sequence of key words and a little patience, you could more often than not find anyone you wanted on the internet.
“So why do you feel the need to tell me this now, Detective Troy? Are you attempting to warn me; because let me be the first to tell you, Chris has already warned me enough, given his attack on my friends and Daemon’s bar.”
Detective Troy hid behind her signature blank expression as she said, “Ms. Stone, I just want you to be careful. It terrifies me to think what could have happened to you in those woods the other day. If you hadn’t succeeded in wrestling the gun from Chris, I highly doubt you or your friend, David, would be alive today.”
I couldn’t look at her as she spoke. I knew her words were true and I was ashamed that I’d put David in danger. “I understand your concern, Detective. I’ll be careful.”
She nodded her assent and turned to let me move past her out of the bedroom. Her words stung more than she realized. I know she was only attempting to give me a more in-depth understanding of Chris’ obsession, but the message carried an entirely different meaning for me. It was all my fault. Everything; the attack, Tomb, my motorcycle, David’s car…it was all an attack on me. But why? What had I done to th
e guy to make him so fixated on revenge?
Detective Troy and I walked out into the living room, it appeared Daemon and David had already grabbed Annie’s things and left the apartment. I led Detective Troy outside, locked the door and made my way to the parking lot. Daemon and David stood waiting by the truck.
As Detective Troy walked to her vehicle, she turned back to say one more thing. “Ms. Stone?” I twisted to look in her direction. “I expect to hear from you tonight with the details of what you discover this afternoon. Even if nothing comes of it, I want you to be sure and call me.”
I nodded in response and returned to shoving my bags in the back part of Daemon’s truck. After I had my things safely stowed away, I climbed in to the front passenger seat. The ride was silent as we took David back to Daemon’s apartment before beginning our trek out to the trailer park.
Chapter Seven
If the random tires acting as a ramshackle, run down chicken coup didn’t give away the poverty of this park, the naked and dirty children running along the dirt roads did. Daemon slowly navigated his truck through the pot holes and deep mud puddles of the roads through the neighborhood. The trailers themselves had seen better days and it appeared the residents had given up maintaining the properties years ago. If I hadn’t already seen evidence of human occupants, I would have guessed this place had long been abandoned. Cars missing various bits and pieces littered the front yards of the trailers. It’s only fair to note that by saying ‘yards’, I actually meant dirt squares that appeared to act as partitions between the properties. There wasn’t a single endearing aspect to this place.
Daemon slowed down as he approached a particularly horrid example of one of the more uncared for trailers. Paint was definitely an unknown concept and the front ‘porch’ like thing was riddled with rotten wood which had fallen to expose the ground underneath. A foul odor emanated out from beneath the trailer. I pondered whether whatever had died under there was an animal or human. I’m not a religious person, but I suddenly found myself praying to survive this trip. I believe I may have even promised to start going to church every once in a while if I made it out of here in one piece.
Daemon took my hand as he walked across the floor boards of the porch-like contraption. We made it to the door unscathed and he rapped his knuckles against the wood of the door. It was silent inside the trailer, so Daemon banged a little harder the next time,
Grabbing his arm, I stopped his knocking. “Don’t bang on it too hard, Daemon. The whole damn thing might fall down.”
Daemon laughed but stopped suddenly when the entire trailer began to shake. Oh shit…he had knocked too hard. The shaking only got worse as footsteps approached from behind the door. Three or four locks could be heard being unlatched and the door was suddenly flung open. We jumped out of the way just in time to miss being hit. A loud bang sounded as the door slammed against the trailer wall.
“Yeah, what the fuck you people want?”
Holy shit. Standing before us was the poster child for the Floridian who always seemed to make the news when disaster struck. You know the ones I’m taking about. Every time a hurricane, tornado or sinkhole occurs, the media seeks out the most ignorant asshole they can locate, a man just like the one standing in front of me, to report about his experience in the storm. I kid you not. This man had the look down to the holy and stained ‘pull my finger’ shirt, which apparently wasn’t large enough to cover the rotund belly protruding from his midsection. His shorts were three sizes too small and they clung to every roll of flesh that encased the man’s legs. He’d apparently parted ways with the zipper and button long ago, because now the only thing holding the material to his body was a belt made of twine. Considering it hadn’t snapped yet, I was impressed that whatever the twine was made of must have been some pretty tough shit.
While I was glued in place by my shock at the man’s appearance, Daemon slowly approached to introduce himself.
“Hey man! Uh…we’re friends with a guy that used to live here. We’re stopping by to see him if he’s around.” Daemon was not smooth in his presentation. I became nervous that the man would know he was full of crap.
The man cleared his throat, coughed up some phlegm, and proceeded to spit it on the ground. Yuck! Bile shot up the back of my throat from my disgust at the size of the loogie the man had managed to conjure from the depths of his trachea. My eyes shot to Daemon to find that his skin had taken on a green tint. I felt oddly better to realize he was equally horrified.
“Well, what’s the name of yer friend? ‘Cause I can tell you, ain’t no one lived around here but me for the past seven years. The man’s eyes finally flicked to me as he did a slow once over my body. My skin crawled from his stare and I inched closer to Daemon. Taking a protective stance in front of me, Daemon responded. “His name is Chris. Do you know him or where we might be able to find him?”
The man’s eyes shot up to Daemon’s. “Why you looking for that fuck up? You’re better off forgettin’ about him and staying the fuck away. The kid ain’t right in his head...” His finger came up to point at me. “…And you definitely want to keep your girl away from him. I’ve heard some things about that shit that would make any sane man cringe.”
Apparently, the man knows Chris…
I stepped out from around Daemon to speak to the man directly. “How do you know Chris?”
The man’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips as he once again looked me over. Daemon began to step back in front of me, but I squeezed his hand to indicate that things were alright. As soon as the man was done committing my body to memory, his yellowed, bloodshot eyes shot back to mine. “I’m that fucker’s father. Name’s Bill. What’s yours?” His lewd grin was only made more gruesome by the appearance of his nicotine stained teeth.
“Mine’s…uh…Jenny. I knew Chris a long time ago, remembered he lived in this trailer.”
“Yeah, well, he did. Years ago. He moved out a year after his momma went missing.”
“Missing? Or did she just take off?”
Bill’s hand reached down to scratch his crotch and make an adjustment before his focus returned to me. “Don’t know what happened to her. Some think the bitch ran off, others think she died of some drug overdose somewhere and ain’t no one found the body. Me? Well, I agree the bitch is dead, but I don’t think it was no overdose that did it. I didn’t think so at first, but, lookin’ back, I wouldn’t be surprised if Chris didn’t have somethin’ to do with her disappearance. Bitch deserved it, if he did.”
A shiver ran up my spine at the thought of Chris killing his own mother. I glanced at Daemon before looking back at Bill. “Why do you think Chris had something to do with it? Why would he want to kill his own mother?”
Bill looked around at the empty trailer park before nodding towards the interior of his trailer. “It’s best you folks come inside if you want to finish this conversation. I don’t need no eavesdropping bitches listening in on what I’m telling you. You see, the women ‘round these parts have a thing for me. I’m sure after they saw you comin’, they’re sittin’ at their windows and doors trying to hear what we’re talking ‘bout. You two want to know more, we best get out of earshot of them nosy bitches.”
I turned to glance around the park. Except for some random trash blowing through the street, and a dog that looked to be half dead walking around, there was nobody to be seen. I looked back to Bill in confusion. “I don’t see anybody.”
“Don’t need to see ‘em to know they are there. Plus, my legs need some restin’. I ain’t as young as I used to be and I don’t like standing ‘round for too long. You’re welcome to come in and finish this conversation, but I ain’t standing out here any longer.” Bill turned to walk back into the trailer. Daemon and I held onto each other as the trailer shook and groaned from the weight of Bill’s footsteps, once the shaking stopped, I figured he must have found his seat. The last thing I wanted to do was go inside that trailer, but I had no choice. Taking Daemon’s hand, I walked
in, but indicated to Daemon to leave the door open in case we needed to make a quick exit. There was no telling when this heap of scrap metal would come tumbling down.
As I entered the trailer, the first thing that grabbed my attention was the 1970’s shag carpeting that appeared to have been avocado green at one point, however now it was a muddled brown with areas missing in some parts, and slick black patches in others. The walls of the trailer weren’t much better. At one time, those walls had sported some impressive wood paneling, however, now, the wood had rotted and was falling down. The areas behind the paneling were yellowed. When I noticed clusters of black spots that peaked out from behind the paneling, I instantly wished I’d brought a dust mask with me to keep from breathing in the obvious mold. The furniture in the house was almost nonexistent, except for some milk crates that had been turned over to be used as tables, a large orange sofa that was currently occupied by Bill, and two folding chairs. A large ashtray, overflowing with old cigarette butts, sat in the middle of the hodgepodge living room furniture. Old newspapers and magazines, which looked to be at least fifteen to twenty years old, given the fashion on the covers, were stacked into corners of the room. Some of the papers had apparently become wet and were now a pile of paper mush on the floor.
I examined the folding chair which was set opposite the couch and didn’t notice anything obviously wrong with it. I hesitantly sat down while slowly lowering my full weight into the seat. Looking to Daemon, I noticed he too was examining his chair, however he eventually decided to remain standing. I looked over as Bill lit up a cigarette. He took two puffs and placed it down to burn atop the pile of butts in the ashtray.
“So, you were saying?”
Bill looked up at me and nodded his head towards the far left wall. “Them’s pictures of Chris and his momma. Not sure what happened to the bitch as Chris got older, but she went from being a sweet and loving mother, to one of the meanest bitches I’d ever come across. Some believe the drinkin’ and druggin’ got to her, who the hell knows? All I know is that Chris became her whipping boy ‘round the time he turned six. I would have done more for the boy if I could, but I drove trucks for a living and was only around three days out of the month. I never realized how bad it was for the kid, ‘til I moved back and them nosy bitches told me ‘bout it. I mean, yeah, the kid was bruised up a lot, but most boys are. I just figured he was fightin’ other kids.”
Conquer (Control) Page 11