Homecoming Homicides

by Marilyn Baron

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Flippy was about to enter Rodney’s workshop when the spotlights went on. Then a disembodied voice that sounded as smooth as a radio DJ’s floated over the loudspeaker. What she heard sent a chill down her spine.

  “Philippa Tannenbaum. Step up to the stage. So glad you could join us. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  Flippy staggered backwards. She was trapped.

  “Were you thinking of leaving us? I wouldn’t advise it. We’re waaaay out in the woods at the End of the World, and nobody knows you’re here. So relax. You’ll find your wardrobe in the changing area in back of the stage. I’m sure you’re familiar with this room. I built it for you.”

  Flippy wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly.

  “Yes, I know what you’re thinking. But it’s true. I built this room with you in mind. That’s right. I saw you in last year’s pageant. You should have won the pageant. You are much more beautiful and poised than the bitch who took your title. You’re no runner-up. I wanted to tell you myself, but I thought of another way. A way that would get everyone’s attention. Then in this year’s pageant, when I saw you were the pageant director, I thought of the perfect way to honor you. You know my mother, Gracie Willis, she was Miss Graysville, and then the next year she was up for the county title and someone stole it from her. She was first runner-up. I couldn’t help my mother, but I can help you. By eliminating the competition, literally.”

  Flippy shuddered.

  “Where are you?” she called out. Disoriented, she couldn’t see the man speaking because he was shielded by the blinding lights.

  “That’s none of your concern. You know what I’m capable of, so, please—don’t waste my time. Go and change into the first outfit I’ve laid out. In my mother’s day, before all this women’s lib nonsense, they hadn’t banned bikinis from the pageant. I know they don’t do this anymore, but it’s my pageant. I love a good bathing suit competition. Don’t you? All that beautiful, smooth, bare skin.”

  Flippy tried to run for the door when she heard a shot ring out and saw the wood next to her head splinter. She ducked.

  “You don’t want to do that, Philippa—or should I call you Flippy? I think I’ll call you Flippy. It’s so much more personal. And we’re going to get to know each other very well before this week is over.”

  “Donny, take a seat. You’re going to love this show. All the others were just preludes. I was just warming up.”

  Flippy walked up the steps on the left side of the stage and walked into the dressing area. She saw three outfits laid out, marked “#1,” “#2,” and “#3.” The first was a skimpy bikini, the second was casual wear, and the third was the evening gown.

  Shaking, Flippy undressed behind the curtain and put on the bikini. What choice did she have? If she could keep him talking, she could stay alive. She could get answers to her questions, and maybe somebody would figure out she was here. But nobody knew she was here. Nobody would put it together. She knew this was the end. She was going to die here, just like the other girls. Just like Traci. She reached into the pocket of the skirt she’d been wearing, fished out Jack’s ring, and put it on her right hand. If she didn’t survive this ordeal, and they found her body, she wanted Jack to have his ring back. Then she lifted Traci’s bracelet from her pocket and fastened it around her left wrist—the last keepsake of her best friend.

  “And now we have Miss Philippa Tannenbaum, looking saucy in her very sexy two-piece. Flippy, front and center. Come out on stage and strut your stuff.”

  Flippy walked hesitantly onto the stage.

  “Model the suit for us. You know the drill. My, my, who knew what was under all those layers.”

  Flippy’s body shook uncontrollably. Not just from the cold. The auditorium was ice cold, but fright had taken hold of her barely-clad body.

  “Now, now. I can see you’re shy. Just a case of stage fright. My mother was shy, too. Or at least I thought she was. She hid it well behind miles of eyelashes, when all along my mother was nothing but a tramp.”

  Flippy shuddered. This man was seriously disturbed.

  “All right, now, Donny. You can take the picture now. Usually I do the makeup first, but you don’t need makeup. I wouldn’t change a thing about that fabulous face of yours. That’s right, Donny. A nice close-up on Miss Tannenbaum’s best assets.”

  A flash went off and blinded Flippy. She almost tripped in the high heels Rodney had supplied for the outfit.

  “Lovely. Lovely. All right now, hurry, hurry, and go change into your casual wear outfit. The black leather bustier with the black silk taffeta skirt. And don’t forget the black leather gloves. They’ll round out the outfit quite nicely.”

  Flippy teetered back to the changing area, put on the second outfit, and stepped out onto the stage.

  “Splendid. Now show us what you’ve got. That’s right. Work it. Donny, did you get that? Did you capture the moment? I picked out those outfits myself.”

  Flippy walked the runway, first hesitantly, then more confidently. She wasn’t going to let this bastard get the better of her. When the time was right, she’d strike back. She wasn’t going to end up like Traci.

  “Now you’re getting the hang of it.”

  Flippy faced her adversary. “Why don’t you show your face, you bastard. You killed my best friend.”

  “Actually, Traci Farris was just collateral damage. I was there that night for you. That little twit just got in the way. I’ve been watching you for a long time. That girl stole your man. What do you care about her? I killed her for you, saved you the trouble.”

  Flippy choked. “You’re sick.”

  “She was nothing but a little whore, just like my mother. Okay, now for the evening gown competition.”

  “Rodney, did you hurt Traci? I thought you said she’d gone home.”

  “Don’t listen to anything she says, Donny. Women can’t be trusted. How many times have I told you that? They turn everything around to deceive and confuse us. Remember the story about Adam and Eve and the Original Sin, from the Bible?”

  Donny nodded.

  While Rodney spewed his hatred of women, Flippy went to the changing room. The gown was gorgeous. It was a pure white silk, seeded with pearls, almost like a wedding gown. It was a vintage gown, and it was a perfect fit. She came out of the dressing room.

  “Brava. You look magnificent in that gown. Just like my mother did. That was her gown. The gown she wore when she won Miss Graysville.”

  “Why are you killing all those girls?” Flippy demanded.

  “Oh, that’s all going to stop, now that I have you. I’ve saved the best for last. You’ll be my best work of art. Now, model for all you’re worth. Model as if your life depends on it, because it does.”

  Flippy walked up and down the stage several times until she heard the voice.

  “Donny, let’s capture this for posterity. Beautiful. This will make a nice addition to the photo gallery. And be sure the video camera is rolling. Philippa, I can’t wait for you to see my photo gallery and my new video. It’s right in the next room. You haven’t seen my workroom, but that’s our next stop. It’s where I do my finest work. And I have just the final resting place for you. It’s one you never even thought of. You and that new man of yours. Yes, I’ve been watching you. I know all about Officer Luke Slaughter.”

  Flippy raised her head, but she still couldn’t distinguish the face of the speaker.

  “You’d better not hurt Luke.”

  “Oh, I will, but not physically. But when he sees what will happen to you, he’ll be devastated.” Then Rodney Willis began to laugh and his voice resonated around the room.

  Flippy was shaking.

  “All right, you can keep the gown on, and go ahead, grab a stole from the dressing room. I know I keep it cold in here, but it’s better for my burns. That’s right, you can’t see my face. If you did, you might be frightened. And I don’t want you to be frightened, yet. When I decide to show myself,
we’ll be all up close and personal, and we’ll have plenty of face time.”

  Flippy blanched as she went backstage to retrieve the stole.

  “Perfect. Now for the question-and-answer session. Are you ready? Here’s the first question.”

  Flippy heard some feedback from the microphone.

  “Donny, would you please adjust the mike?”

  Donny ambled over to the control room.

  “Why are women such whores?” Rodney called out.

  Flippy stood still.

  “Come on, you know the answer to that question. You had a boyfriend for four years, you were engaged, and yet that very night you went out and slept with another man. Don’t bother to deny it. As I said, I’ve been watching you. Do you have the answer to my question? And I’ll know if it’s not the truth.”

  “I was angry at Jack for cheating on me. I was drunk.”

  “Then how do you explain sleeping with Luke again?”

  Flippy was quiet as she considered her answer. Somehow the man must have been spying on them in Luke’s condo, or else how could he possibly know that?

  “I-I love him.” And she knew it was true but she’d never get a chance to tell him.

  “Ah, love. I know how that feels. Only it’s all one-sided. I love you, do you know that, Philippa? But if you saw me you wouldn’t give me the time of day. My mother said she loved me. But how did she show it? When I came home from school, I found her in bed with another man. Naked, bodies tangled, doing the dirty deed right in front of me. Of course she jumped up when she saw me, and apologized, but it was too late. The whore had to be punished.”

  “So you set your house on fire purposely?”

  “Donny, you can leave the room now. Go develop those pictures just like I taught you. I want to be alone with Miss Tannenbaum.”

  Donny left the room obediently.

  “Did he have anything to do with these murders?”

  “Do you see him? He’s as innocent as a babe. He has no idea what’s really going on. I’ve got to protect him. He does help, unintentionally. Lures in the girls, but he’s never been in my workshop. It’s a bit messy in there. I’m afraid he’d slip on all the blood. Of course my older brother is big and strong, and he helps me carry my special sacks to the drop-off points. He doesn’t know what’s in them.”

  “So did you murder your mother?”

  “Murder is such a nasty word. I did light her bedroom on fire and lock the door and step outside so I wouldn’t hear her screams. Then I relented and opened the door, and when I saw my mother’s beautiful face burning, I put out the fire. I saved my mother. But unfortunately, I was burned in the process. But she paid for her sins. She had to live with her ugly face and her shame until the day she couldn’t live with it anymore. She couldn’t work, couldn’t show her face, couldn’t get a man. So she took my stepfather’s shotgun and shot herself. Blew off her face. I buried her out back. But I miss her. She was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, until I saw you. You look just like her, you know. That’s why I chose you. Had to have you.”

  “Why did you have to kill Traci and the other girls?”

  “Now, I’m asking the questions here. But I’ll answer this one last question. Why did I kill the girls? I loved their beauty, their perfection, I reveled in it, but then they had to be punished.”

  “So you burned the sides of their faces while they were still alive?”

  “Yes, recreating the past. I marked them. I let them think I was going to save them at the last minute, but alas, they couldn’t be saved. You’ll see exactly how it happens. Come now, I’m ready to reveal myself.”

  Rodney Willis stepped into view. His face was hideous, all scarred and puffy.

  Flippy cringed.

  He strode up to her and she turned to run.

  “I still have bullets in this gun, so you won’t get far.” She froze.

  Rodney grabbed her and twisted her arms behind her back and tied them. He dragged her along the walkway and unlocked another room.

  Flippy almost fainted at the sight of it. It was like a medieval torture room. Photos of Traci and the other victims were posted all around the walls. She spotted the body of another one of the contestants, Dana Lyons. Was she dead or merely asleep? Rodney approached Flippy and tried to smother her with a white handkerchief. The room was spinning and then everything went black.

  When she came to, she was tied to a table, still dressed in the gown and heels she’d worn in the “pageant,” and staring into the disfigured face of her killer.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” she cried, straining against her bonds.

  “I already told you. Because it gives me pleasure. And I have so little of that in my life. But you’ll be my last. You can take comfort in that. Usually, I let the girls linger for the better part of a week, starve them, deprive them of water until they’re weak and vulnerable, and then I go to work on them. Burn their faces while they’re still alive, and show them a mirror so they can see what’s left of their former beauty. A little torture, but not enough that they can’t take it, and then, mercifully, I put them out of their misery before I go to work.”

  Flippy struggled on the table.

  “It’s all documented on the videotape.” Rodney flicked a switch and the lights went out. Images of Rodney with his victims appeared on a large screen. Bound, she had no choice but to watch it, the way he’d captured each of his victims, bound them, burned them, their last walk down the runway, the torture on his workroom table, and the bodies deposited at the dump sites. The footage of Traci was the hardest to watch.

  “And I am most sorry about you,” Rodney lamented. “Because I do love you, you know. In fact, I worship you. I would do anything for you. But would you love me back? Could you?”

  Flippy felt the bile rise in her stomach. Then she spit in his face.

  “Feisty. I like that. You know I don’t take sexual liberties with my women. Not that I don’t want to, but I can’t. That ability was taken away in the fire. But I get my satisfaction in other ways.”

  Flippy sagged. The full realization that no one was coming to rescue her made her sad. She’d miss Luke the most. She’d never see his face again, and now that she knew she loved him, she wouldn’t have the chance to tell him. And that was real torture.

  Rodney freed one of her hands and placed something in it.

  “Okay, you can hold the mirror, Queenie’s mirror.”

  Rodney struck a match and held the flame to her face, bringing it closer and closer, till it was only inches away.

  “What a shame the flame will mar such beauty.” She could feel the heat, and she shrank away and then he touched the fire to her face and she cried out.

  “It will only hurt for a minute. Once I’ve marked you as mine, no one else will want you. No one else will be able to stand looking at you. Not Jack, and I see you’re still wearing his ring. Foolish girl. And not Officer Luke. And then, once you realize I’m all you have left, we can be together and we will be happy.”

  “Flippy, are you in there?”

  “Luke!” she cried, trying to turn toward his voice. “Over here!” Luke rushed to her side as Rodney looked up and laughed. He held out the flame and with his other hand drew his gun, but Luke was faster. He knocked the flame out of Rodney’s hand and they struggled for the gun. The flame lit the rug on fire and started to spread, licking the drapes and igniting the wooden furniture. Then Luke had the gun, but Rodney escaped the room like a rabbit.

  Luke untied Flippy and set her upright, touching her hair, and her face, trying to convince himself she was really there in front of him.

  “Are you okay? I was scared to death when I couldn’t find you.”

  “I’m fine, but you got here just in time. Rodney Willis is the killer. I can prove it. Look around. He has the photos of all the dead girls. And he has a video. It’s all there, all the murders, the torture, all on a video. Get it, Luke.”

  “We don’t have time for that—this
place is about to go up.”

  “Get Dana. She’s one of the missing girls. She’s over there on the floor in the corner.”

  “Flip, we don’t have another second to spare.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Chuck, the homeless man, running toward the motionless girl.

  “I’ll get the other girl. You take care of Miss Tannenbaum,” Chuck said.

  “But your evidence, it’s all here.” The pictures of the contestants were curling into ash, melting in the intense heat.

  “You’re the only thing I care about. The police are on their way. That freakshow bushwhacker shot my partner Matt and left him to bleed out in the field down the road. The paramedics said he was going to be okay. Matt was coming after you. He was riding on the bus.”

  “How did you know where to find me?”

  “Kate called me and said you were in trouble. But we can talk about that later. Let’s get out of here.”

  They fled the burning room, and when they got outside, Dana was lying on the grass, choking, but the paramedics had revived her. Chuck was holding Rodney.

  “What is Chuck doing here?”

  “I deputized your homeless friend. I’ll explain later.” Luke grabbed Rodney by the throat.

  “You’re going down, dickhead.”

  There were screams from the house.

  “My brother Donny is in there,” Rodney said, and before Luke could cuff him he broke away from Luke’s grip and ran into the flames.

  Flippy heard police and fire truck sirens approaching, but the wooden house had gone up like a matchstick. It was too late to save it. There were more screams, and Rodney came running through the flames with his brother wrapped in a sheet dripping with cold water. He carried his brother to safety, but Rodney himself was on fire, and Flippy would never forget the piteous screams that came out of him. Police raced to get to him, but they were too late. Finally, he was quiet, and there was only a burning hulk where there had once been a man.