by Zena Jae
“Pack your bags. You and Cotton can stay with me until this perp is caught.”
“And how long would that be? What if you never catch them?” She didn’t want to think that, but it was a possibility. Many murder cases, even serial ones, have gone unsolved. “We can’t live with you forever.”
Why not? He had no problem with it. He’d welcome her companionship on a daily basis. Scratch ‘welcome’—he’d love it.
“We’re going to catch the son-of-a-bitch. I’m not going to stop until the creep is either dead or locked up for good.” His teeth clenched so hard, his jaws conveyed the anger.
“Marcus, even if I moved in with you, I’m not safe there either. You can’t babysit me 24 hours a day. This troll knows us. They know where a lot of us live. Most of us are in the phone book. They probably know where you live too, and if they don’t, they’d find out.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. He knew she was right. He wouldn’t be able to protect her at all times, especially not while he was at work. And because their town was small, they had a limited police force. Sparing officers to stand guard wasn’t always feasible, nor at times were they even available.
Piper took his hand in hers. “I promise to take every precaution. I’ll be sleeping with my gun. I’m a light sleeper so I’ll hear anyone before they enter my room.” Her eyes brightened at her next thought. “When I was younger, I always hated that the floorboards creaked because my parents would catch me sneaking into my room after my curfew. Boy, did I get into trouble a lot in my high school years.” Memories of that actually made her smile instead of feeling somber when thinking about her family.
“Yeah, you were quite the rebellious one in those days,” he recalled. Of course, he and Trevor were often the cause of that because they’d take her along on their gallivants.
“Hey, you and Trev were the ones who corrupted me.” Yup, she recalled the events as well as he did.
He laughed. “Trevor used to tell me he’d get scolded for taking you out with us and bringing you home so late.”
“Yeah, they didn’t care that he stayed out late, they just didn’t like it that I did. That’s sexist if you ask me.”
“Well, parents worry about their little girls more than their sons. Mine were the same with my sister. She used to complain just like you.”
“Well, it’s not like I was out with hoodlums. They might’ve not trusted you, but they trusted Trevor to take care of me.”
“What? Your parents didn’t trust me?” He felt hurt by that. Her parents always treated him as though he were part of their family, so he never realized they didn’t trust him. He frowned.
“I’m just kidding. Honestly, they trusted you. I think they just didn’t like it that you guys had no consideration for my curfew.”
“Yeah, that was our fault. We weren’t very responsible back then, especially about keeping track of time. How we grow up though, huh?” He winked.
“Some of us do, anyway,” she teased.
They smiled and gazed in each other’s eyes in silence. That gaze lasted a bit too long, and as if they both sensed the uncomfortableness at the same moment, they looked away.
Marcus cleared his throat. “I’ll stop by every night after my shift to check up on you. Will you let me do that at least?”
She gave it some thought.
“Okay. I guess you can’t be that much of a nuisance for just a few minutes each night.”
“Oh, don’t be too sure,” he challenged.
Again, they smiled at each other, enjoying their playfulness, just like when they were kids. As though a spiritual wave passed between them, thoughts of Trevor came to both of them at the same time. How they missed him.
“Anyway, I’ll be okay for now because according to that note, the troll is saving me for last, so let’s worry first about those others before me.”
That was Piper; always thinking about other people’s welfare before her own—even at a time as dangerous as this.
“In some ways, the perp living amongst us might be easier to catch than someone living outside our town. We’ll have to scrutinize our townsfolk as we encounter them,” Marcus said.
“I’ve racked my brain imagining who could have a vendetta against the critique group to want to murder us all. It’s crazy.” Piper shook her head, unwilling to believe this could be happening to them, to their friendly little town, to the people she knew—and worst of all—by someone she knew.
“Well, someone obviously does. And maybe they’ve been harboring it for a while and finally snapped.”
That thought bothered her. What could the group have done or said to make someone hate them so much? Were they jealous? But why, when some of them weren’t even midlist authors yet?
It would be less mindboggling if it was a complete stranger killing randomly, but this murder scheme was deliberate and targeted against her critique group.
“I’m going to call Bobby and have them install extra protection on your windows and doors,” Marcus told her.
“Marcus, they didn’t break into Saul’s place. Did they break into Kerri’s?”
He had to admit, “No, they didn’t. Her door was unlocked though, so either she let someone in or she went outside.”
“I doubt they’ll try to break in here then. Besides, Cotton will bark if she senses someone outside. She’s the best security system, and I’ve got my gun. I’ll be fine.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “Go, you’ve got work to do. The troll said they were going to post another video tomorrow night, so you’ve got to find Saul.”
He hesitated to leave her. But he knew he had to, to do his job.
“You sure you’ll be all right?”
“Yes.” She grabbed his arm and walked him to the door.
“I’m going to pray that you find this troll before he kills again,” she said as they stood by the front door. She knew in real life things didn’t happen so easily, but she could hope, right?
When Marcus left, she closed the door behind him, leaned up against it, closed her eyes, and whispered under her breath, “Please let them find Saul alive.”
Chapter 9
Saul slowly opened his eyes, adjusting his focus on the tripod and camera setup three feet in front of him. He wanted to puke and his mouth felt like the Sahara desert. Time had no meaning right now since he didn’t know how long he’d been out cold. Someone drugged him and he knew who that someone was. He had opened his door for them, thinking they’d come for a friendly visit. Was he ever mistaken because friendly lasted but five seconds before the tranquilizer dart took him out.
Why did they do this to him? Was it some kind of joke? Well, it wasn’t in the least bit funny—not when bound to a chair.
Like Kerri, he couldn’t speak, but not due to duct tape, no, he had some other apparatus inserted into his mouth that spread it open wide. He tasted metal.
He couldn’t move his head because duct tape strapped it to a wooden plank attached to the back of the chair.
Saul tried to twist his wrists to loosen the bindings, but more duct tape bound them tight and unyielding to the arms of the chair. With his legs bound in the same manner, his body movements were limited, so wriggling in the chair didn’t help either.
Never in his life had he been so helpless—not physically, emotionally, or financially. Once, when he was eighteen, he had fallen into a fifteen-foot high pit, but even with a sprained ankle, he managed to climb out to safety.
Today, he felt like a trapped animal ready for the slaughter. He had a sick feeling that his fate wasn’t going to be good.
He heard someone approaching behind him. As the troll finally came into view, Saul’s attention went immediately to the troll’s hand—the one holding a pair of garden shears. Surgical gloves covered their hands.
Saul tried to talk but with the contraption propping his mouth wide open, he could only sound out noises, similar to what his dentist often heard.
“What’s that? I can’t
understand a single word you’re saying,” the troll mocked, holding a free hand behind their ear with their neck craned forward.
The troll grinned wickedly. “You see this?” They held up the shears to Saul’s face. “Know what I’m gonna do with it?”
Saul’s body shook as if taken over by fever as terror surged throughout his senses.
“Ever wonder what it would feel like to die a slow death?”
Oh, God, this was not happening.
“You see, this is what I told you about writing a great murder scene. You have to experience it.”
The troll’s eye’s glimmered with excitement.
“Too bad you won’t be able to write about the victim’s point of view. That would make for awesome reading coming from someone experiencing the pain of torture.”
Saul twisted back and forth, up and down, his movements violent in his efforts to break loose. But it was hopeless—he couldn’t get free.
“Now, now, we can’t have you thrashing about, trying to topple this chair while I conduct my task, now can we?”
The troll reached into their hoodie’s pocket and produced a syringe.
“You know what this is, don’t you? You wrote about it in your upcoming book. Isn’t this great stuff?”
It was succinylcholine. It would relax Saul’s muscles but every nerve in his body would still feel the pain.
“I’d actually prefer to watch you struggle and see the horror and anguish on your face, but unfortunately, you had to write about this stuff so now I have to use it on you.”
The troll injected the chemical into Saul’s arm. While waiting for it to take effect, the troll activated the video camera then moved behind Saul. The lens would capture only from Saul’s head downward.
Tears fell from Saul’s eyes. At that moment, he wanted desperately to tell his ex-wife and kids that he loved them. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen.
Saul’s horrified eyes stared into the camera while his mind screamed out but to no one’s ears.
The troll reached from behind and dug their fingers into Saul’s mouth.
Stretching out his tongue, they lifted the shears and...
Chapter 10
It was a little after seven when Marcus knocked on Piper’s door. She looked through the peephole before letting him in.
When Cotton didn’t appear, he asked, “Is Cotton still out?”
“She regained consciousness but she’s not feeling well so she hasn’t moved much and seems to want to just rest. She’s laying down in the living room.” They headed for the kitchen. “Any luck with the case?”
“Nothing yet. The perp has covered their tracks well. Did they post anything more on your forum?”
“No, not since I last checked a minute ago. I’ve been checking it every minute between cooking. I’m obsessed, it’s crazy.”
“I don’t blame you.”
A wonderful aroma of rosemary filled the air. Marcus’ stomach growled.
“Can I help you with anything?”
“Why don’t you pour us a glass of wine. It’s on the dining table.”
Piper served up the braised short ribs with mashed potatoes and peas.
Marcus took off his holster, laid it over the back of the seat next to him as he sat down to dine. The two friends sat across each other on one end of the mahogany table that sat six.
“I’ve messaged the group that Saul was missing. Nobody’s heard from him either.”
“I wish my department had enough manpower to post a cop with each of you.” His face looked drawn, as though he had the world’s problems on his shoulders.
She gave him a smile of appreciation. “Although that would be great, the troll would probably just wait it out until it wasn’t feasible for you guys to babysit anymore. It wouldn’t be a long-term solution.”
He knew she was right, and he felt awful that he and his department couldn’t do more to keep them safe.
“Wish we could all afford bodyguards, but they don’t come cheap and who knows how long before you catch this creep. Could be months, even years...hell, what if you never catch them?”
Perish that thought.
“We’ll catch ‘em,” Marcus said with certainty, but of course, how could he make that kind of prediction? He had no crystal ball.
She smiled at his efforts to try to comfort her, wanting to believe his confident words, but she knew better—she was a realist more than an optimist.
“Well, dig in before it gets cold,” she said as she picked up her knife and fork.
After taking in a mouthful, Marcus’ eyes lit up, as well as his taste buds. “This is good stuff.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty tasty, isn’t it? It’s the first time I’ve made this. I found the recipe on the Internet.”
“Well, if bodyguard duty comes with meals, count me in.” He helped himself to another heaping mound of mashed potatoes. “The mash potatoes are great too.”
“I used heavy cream and mixed in cheddar cheese for those. I like it rich.” She took a sip of her wine.
“My belt is probably gonna complain tomorrow, but what the hell.” He upped the mound with another scoop.
Piper was glad he was enjoying the meal, but her focus went back on her two friends.
“Marcus, I want to check out Kerri’s place tomorrow, to see if your team might’ve missed anything. We’ve got to find a clue. We’ve just got to.” Her voice intoned desperation.
“I have a meeting in the morning until around ten-thirty, but after that I can pick you up and we can head on over.” He took a swig of his wine.
“That sounds perfect. I’m going to take Cotton to a doggie day care then I’ll be back by the time you get here.”
He didn’t have to ask her why she was taking Cotton to a doggie sitter—he knew why.
After dinner, she scooped out a dish of caramel toffee ice cream and a piece of apple pie for them both. Marcus, of course, got a larger helping of ice cream.
“Damn, Piper, you’re gonna make me fat. How am I going to chase suspects after this?”
“You’ll work it off. You always do. Don’t you still go to the gym three times a week?” She scooped a spoonful of ice cream then lifted it to her mouth. Her lips caressed the spoon as she pulled it out slowly, sensuously, savoring the flavor and creaminess of the delectable treat.
As if mesmerized, Marcus fixed his eyes on her plump, sensual lips as she did so. It was sexy as hell.
She licked her lips.
He gulped.
After realizing he’d been staring at her, he immediately averted his eyes to put his attention on his own dessert. It took him less than a minute to gobble it up—there was certainly no sensuality in his delivery, no, he shoveled it into his mouth with the finesse of an ape with a banana. His awkwardness after watching her obviously skewed his ability to savor and relish his own dessert.
“You auditioning for a food eating contest or something?” she teased after witnessing the pillage.
His cheeks flushed. “Yeah, I’m a Neanderthal, aren’t I?” He laughed away his embarrassment.
“I wish I could take credit for baking the pie and churning my own ice cream since you didn’t bother coming up for air.”
“Okay, no need to keep rubbing it in. Give this savage a break, would ya?”
She laughed. “Okay, Tarzan, Jane will behave.” She quirked an eyebrow. “For now.”
“Good. Now where’s Cheetah?”
They took their wine glasses into the living room and sat on the floor next to where Cotton lay in her bedding basket.
“How you doin’, girl?” Marcus rubbed his fingers into Cotton’s coat. Sad black eyes stared back at him as her head laid flat on the cushioned doggie bed. Cotton had completely surrendered to her condition—the aftereffects of the tranquilizer had rendered her weak and woozy.
“She doesn’t look so good,” he said as he frowned at Piper.
“The vet said she should be better tomorrow, but if she doesn’t
perk up by then, I’ll take her back for a checkup.” Piper stroked Cotton’s fur, grazing Marcus’ fingers with every downward stroke.
They both felt a tingle at their touch.
“You got any ideas on how we can trap this perp?” he asked her.
“Use me as bait?” She wasn’t joking. She looked him dead serious in his eyeballs.
“That’s not funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be.”
Marcus stopped stroking Cotton.
Was she crazy? “That’s too freaking dangerous. We can’t take that kind of chance.” He stood up and plopped his ass on the couch. Her suggestion made him uneasy—mainly because at some point, he knew they might have to do it.
She sat next to him, folding one leg in front of her so she could easily face him. “I’m already in danger. I’m on the troll’s list...remember? It’s only a matter of time, so let’s lure them to me before they kill anyone else.” She placed her hand on his hand as it lay on his thigh.
There was that tingling again. He abruptly moved his hand away—her touch was too distracting to think straight. Unfortunately, the movement caused her hand to fall onto his thigh close to his groin.
Christ, that was even more distracting.
Worst yet, she didn’t move her hand away, she let it rest there.
A surge of heat ran through his body—he was getting a boner.
Things weren’t exactly lukewarm for her either. His strong, muscular thigh, together with the smell of his manly scent, made her own loins ache.
These two had sexual tension mounting faster than a jet taking off on a runway.
Marcus squirmed.
Piper took her hand away.
Not knowing what to do with the situation, he said, “I gotta take a piss.”
Yup, the perfect words to break the mood.
He got up and headed for the bathroom.
“Need me to bring you some kneepads?” she yelled as he escaped down the hall.
“I said a piss, not a puke.”
“Just checking.”
He closed the bathroom door.