Dawson's Web

by William Hutchison

  He dangled the bait.

  The store closed in fifteen minutes.

  She bit.

  She noticed how ruggedly handsome Jeff was.

  Right now, she needed a distraction to take her mind off her ex and she certainly couldn’t afford to lose her job.

  She thought about it briefly and then replied. “Okay, but only one. I have school tomorrow. You’ll have to leave now because I have to turn on the motion detectors when I close up. It will only take a couple of minutes. I’ll meet you in the parking lot. Let me cash out and lock up. There’s a cute little bar not far from here. We can walk there and talk. I could use a friend right now.” She was angling for him, although he was at least fifteen years older than she was.

  “Are you sure? If you don’t come, I will be back, talk to your manager and you will lose your job.” Jeff (aka Snakey) was very convincing.

  He paused and waited. One wrong answer and she was dead, in spite of the fact she wasn’t his type. He’d make an exception for her because she royally pissed him off. He didn’t even want to have sex with her now.

  He wanted revenge.

  The clerk took one look at Jeff’s eyes and, interpreting his determination for her demise as desire, she immediately answered.

  She was enthralled but scared simultaneously about losing her job.

  That’s how good Slither brain was. He knew how to lure his victim by playing on their innermost insecurities. The clerk was obviously insecure because her last boyfriend, and probably those before him, had used her and abused her, dropping her to the curb like useless trash.

  She attracted losers because she was one.

  Slither brain knew that.

  He knew it as sure as he knew Jeff. He was smart. He was so much more intelligent than she was and he used that three-minute interaction with her to size her up and put her in his control.

  It was almost too easy.

  But Slither liked easy.

  And so did Jeff.

  “I pinky finger promise,” she said as she reached over the counter, smiled and extended her little finger.

  Slither brain thought it was very juvenile, but in a way somewhat cute. He smiled, did the same and entwined his little finger around here pinky.

  “Promise,” she said blowing him a kiss and then retracted her hand.

  The snake slithered toward the exit. He had gotten what he wanted. He took his hand off the knife.

  “Meet you in the parking lot in five.”

  “Five it is,” she acknowledged.

  Ten minutes passed. Slither was getting impatient. He was doubtful she would come. “The little bitch is probably going to exit from the back and leave me here.” He started to develop an alternate plan.

  “If she does, I’ll come at her from behind and do her right in the parking lot.” He kept scanning the store. He also scanned the parking lot for video surveillance. There didn’t appear to be any.

  Normally he was very cautious, checking out the place he would accost his victims, but this situation was something different. The snake was pissed. He wanted his vengeance because she ignored him, and he was willing to risk it for revenge’s sake.

  He was willing to take the chance of being caught. Besides, if he were apprehended, he’d be able to talk his way out of it anyway. He was brilliant, or so he thought. It gave him a sense of being unapproachable by the law. They were mere Pogues in his eyes.

  He was the smart one. They’d never catch him.

  Finally, the lights went out.

  He watched her as she strode across the parking lot dodging the same puddles he had earlier. He imagined what the next two hours would be like and got a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach as he pre-played the climax in his mind.

  He already had his game scenario developed.

  It involved him and Jeff doing what they did best: loving, caring, teasing, and ultimately taking her life, but only after hours of foreplay.

  She approached the car carrying an umbrella.

  The rain was imminent.

  Thunder clapped in the background yielding a dull roar, like elves playing nine pins in heaven.

  “This is perfect,” Jeff and the snake thought simultaneously.

  “Well, I guess we can’t walk,” she said noticing the rain, which had recently started.

  She waited by the passenger door as the first sprinkles started coming. As the drops hit the puddles, they sent circular ripples out reflecting the streetlight as bands of circular light radiating from the center where each drop hit.

  “Can you let me in? It’s only a short drive, but it looks like we might be in for a downpour.”

  No sooner had she said this than a lightning bolt cracked only hundreds of yards away and destroyed a transformer on a power pole which burst into flames sending sparks flying.

  The clap of thunder was deafening.

  The puddles lit up as individual mirrors bathing the parking lot in light.

  Then it started pouring.

  Jeff quickly got his remote key out and helped her into the car. Even though he was out in the rain for only a few seconds, he was soaked when he got in.

  She took out some tissues and handed them to him. “Here, use these. Dry your face off.” She was trying her best to please him. She wanted so to get her mind off Johnnie. She so needed a break and Jeff was her idea of a break.

  This was not her best decision.

  Not her best decision, indeed.

  Slither brain liked the token of appreciation she showed.

  “SSSSSure,” he hissed, then added, “Where to?”

  “Oh, go South on PCH. There’s a little seafood restaurant and they have a quiet, well-stocked bar,” she squeaked in a singsong rhythm sounding like a door to an old house that had been caught in a breeze and swayed back and forth crying out each time it had to move.

  Jeff started the car and turned left onto PCH. He pulled the knife out of his pocket now and fondled it, opening it up, feeling the sharpness of the blade, closing it again, knowing, in moments, he would use it on this stupid person with the grating voice.

  He was done with this bitch, in spite of her token kindness. Her voice grated on his last nerve. Both Slither Brain and Sane Brain were in agreement.

  She had to go.

  They were ready.

  Let the games begin.

  As they approached the restaurant, she pointed to the right. “You’d better slow down. It’s right over there.”

  The wiper blades were thumping like the beating of a heart but could barely keep up with the downpour.

  The snake ignored the command and accelerated, turned to her and smiled.

  “We’re going to Gladstone’s. They have much better seafood and they’re on the ocean not far from here. Besides, it’s pouring now and I don’t want to get soaked again. If we drive up the coast, we might get out from under this microburst.

  You’ll like it. I guarantee you’ll like it. I know we do. I mean, I do.” (That unintentional slip where he referred to both of his personalities might have been enough to be a sign to scare her away, but she was too pre-occupied being jealous of her ex and thinking of the possibilities of being with Jeff to notice. That, and coincidentally, it was the same restaurant where she and her ex were going to celebrate their anniversary, except that Emily and Johnnie spoiled her plans.)

  “How epically appropriate to start a new chapter,” she mused.

  She reached over and hugged him as if to get back at her ex, who wasn’t there and didn’t care anyway. Tonight he was screwing Emily in Redondo and hadn’t thought about her in weeks.

  The irony was thick.

  That’s exactly what she wanted to do with Jeff.

  She wanted to have revenge sex with him.

  Pulling herself back into the present moment, she answered. “Of course I know I’m going to enjoy dinner. Oh, by the way, what’s your name? How lame and stupid am I getting into a stranger’s car without asking?”

  The snake l
aughed inside. “How stupid, indeed? You have no idea how stupid!”

  “I’m Jeff. Jeff Dawson. I promise you’ll have fun.”

  Usually, he used a false identity, but what would it matter, she’d be dead in a few hours. He extended his right hand and they pinky-finger promised again, each not saying a word. She was enthralled with the possibilities of a new life. Snake and Sane Brain were ecstatic at the onset and the culmination of their game.

  All three were satisfied momentarily.

  The authorities found her body washed ashore one mile North of Gladstone’s after being alerted by some early morning anglers there was a “floater” in the surf.

  Her throat was slit from ear to ear and there were also several post-mortem stab wounds. Whoever murdered her did it vengefully.

  However, that’s where the similarity to the other crimes ended.

  Jeff and the snake had indeed carved the signature hole above her vagina to emphasize their rage, but the size of the hole was noticeably smaller and not nearly as deep, extending only one-half inch through the skin.

  Later, when she was examined by the coroner, he noted the difference in the file, but because of the vast majority of similarities with the other victims, this one was still classified as one of those of the now named “Blondie Serial Killer.”

  After dinner and having to listen to her endless whining, Snakey and Saney had had enough. The similarity to their stepmother was lost on them. The killing didn’t hold the same satisfaction as those before, even though they both were conscious when it occurred, something that hadn’t happened before. It was a new venue for them both, and as such was going to take a bit of getting used to since both of them were present when they made love and both of them knew what the other was thinking. The same thing happened when they finally subdued her and killed her.

  It was fun, but not as much fun.

  Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing to combine their psyches. Each of them though this, knew it, but ignored and mentally high-fived each other celebrating the first time they had worked together.

  The reason the holes weren’t as deep is that during the post mortem mutilation, they both agreed they had lost interest in her.

  They quit prematurely and covered their tracks as best they could. Both agreed it would be better to have closer collaboration before doing anything like this again because the risks were too high if they didn’t.

  Snake Brain and Sane Brain had both been with her.

  They had made sure there was no other forensic evidence, except for one thing neither of them knew: a bank surveillance camera had caught Jeff’s license plate only moments before the duo had done their deed.

  Fred McCallister was alerted via text message and was already on his way to view the video surveillance footage even though it was noon, nine hours after the body was found.

  Chapter 32

  The day after Jeff and his reptilian counterpart murdered the clerk, he slept in, got up, ran some errands and then headed south towards Hermosa Beach. He wanted to get the HBYC to see if he could meet up with Stephanie. He had been thinking about her ever since they were together and his previous night’s escapades made him even more excited to see her now.

  The box of Clairol was next to him in the passenger’s seat, and he couldn’t wait to use it on her. Slither Brain and Sane Brain were in synch about that and had agreed on what they would do to her and with her once the dye was cast…. so to speak.

  He arrived at HBYC at noon.

  Stephanie got there with her husband and Todd, their sailing instructor, nearly an hour earlier having finished an early morning sailing lesson where they went over the basics of setting the sails, backing up, tacking and jibing. It was exhilarating learning how to operate their new toy. During the lesson, they actually seemed to be getting along with each other. Not only that, they both sailed the boat single-handedly boosting Todd’s ego about his ability to teach them the basics.

  It helped that John and Stephanie were very intelligent. Both caught on to the subtleties of sailing quickly: feeling the wind and being able to adjust Arachne’s course to take advantage of it; tacking quickly so the boat didn’t stall half-way through the turn; and bringing the boat “in irons” to lower the sails safely.

  At one point, Stephanie had the boat heeled over almost twelve degrees, which made Todd proud, but scared her husband, John, because he was seated on the low side and could reach out and, if he wanted to, put his hand in the water.

  Overall, it was a good lesson, which deserved a celebratory drink or two.

  Charlene and Randy were behind the bar when Jeff came in.

  The surfers, who usually occupied their normal seats, were there too. They were arguing about what the weather was going to do and bragging about who was the better surfer.

  It was Friday and everyone was in the pre-weekend mood. Drinks were flowing like those at a fraternity party at USC on any given weekend during football season. The entire crew was ready-set and well lubricated, even though it was only noon. They were so tipsy, in fact, before Jeff’s arrival Stephanie, John and Tom invited Randy and Charlene for an impromptu trip to Catalina on Arachne that very afternoon. Both were feeling that competent in their ability to sail.

  All agreed it would be an opportunity that couldn’t be passed.

  The weather was forecast to be perfect for the weekend. The Santa Ana winds were going to be blowing offshore from LA creating a downwind breeze making the normal five-hour trip to the Isthmus nearly an hour shorter. The water temperatures were supposed to be in the high 70’s, something that hadn’t occurred in SoCal for over twenty years: the result of a strong El Nino setting up in the Pacific.

  The water was so warm several species of fish like Wahoo, Dorado, and Blue Marlin were being caught off the East End of Catalina. The warm ocean waters were bringing scores of anglers and they were bringing their cash, fueling the Island Economy, much like an early snowfall at Mammoth or Big Bear fuels those popular California Ski Resort towns. The Catalina locals were enjoying the windfall. Profits and spirits alike were on the rise.

  Jeff walked into the bar and Stephanie immediately waved to him to join them.

  Jeff felt somewhat awkward because John was there, but Snake Brain kicked in, told Sane Brain to take a back seat and let him handle it, which he did.

  Jeff sat down and Stephanie and he locked eyes. They were both thinking the same thing: “let’s get outta here and go down and finish what we started on Arachne.”

  “Well, Mr. Real Estate, what brings you down here on a Friday afternoon?” Stephanie asked, ignoring her husband, who was talking to Charlene at the bar. She stretched her hand across the table and gave Jeff’s hand an impromptu squeeze emphasizing her willingness to be with him.

  The feeling was mutual.

  Jeff squeezed her hand back.

  Snake and Sane Brain liked the injection of electricity, which ran up their arm when their hands touched. It was good they were in such close communication now.

  (When they both lived apart, Snake Boy and Sane Boy could only exist separately. But something had happened over the course of the previous two months and during the latest murders.

  They were separate, but becoming one on occasion.

  This was one of those times.)

  “I was working a deal in Brentwood. It was close, so I thought I’d take the chance to see if you might be around.” Snake said.

  He leaned into her.

  “I brought you a presssent.” (Hissing)

  He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the Clairol.

  “I want to see you as a blonde. You are sssooo beautiful as a brunette, I’d bet you’d be even more ssstunning as a blonde. We’ve already made love. I want to make love to you assss a blonde. I want to feel as if I’m cheating on you with you.”

  He waited for an answer.

  The reptilian hiss was over the top, but effective.

  Stephanie liked the snake.

  Todd was drinkin
g his fourth “Todd water,” which was straight vodka on the rocks He was oblivious to their conversation.

  Stephanie responded. “You’re silly. But I like the way you’re thinking.” She reached over and picked up the box of Clairol, put it up next to her face and tried to mimic the smile on the model’s face on the box. She wanted to impress him. She was infatuated with him because he was the first one she had feelings for in a long time. Her marriage was that stale. She hated her husband and she saw Jeff as her ticket to a more pleasant alternative than her current humdrum life with John.

  She had dealt with John’s insanity for so long she was about to burst. Had it not been for them agreeing to get the boat and giving her a way out of her insane relationship she didn’t know what she would do.

  “Really, you want to see me as a blonde?”

  She was teasing, but inside she thought it might be fun. She had never colored her hair before because she saw herself perfect in every way. Why change it now?”

  The question Jeff asked sparked an internal evaluation of her motivations. Inside, she knew she needed a change and the change needed to come soon. She was weak-kneed when she thought about the possibilities with Jeff.

  John had hurt her so many times over the years by not doing everything she asked for and needed. Even if her demands were nonsensical, he should have met them. Because, after all, she was worthy of having each demand she made met and done so without question.

  But he had not met any of them.

  In fact, over the past three years, he had done everything in his power to distance himself from her, because, quite frankly he hated her. The only reason he hung on as long as he did was for the inheritance, and now that her parents were near the end, his tolerance for her had even grown less by the day.