by L. L. Soares
“You bet.”
“Thanks, Fred,” Carroll said. He just wanted to get away from this place. He went back to his car and sat there, feeling very ill despite his calm exterior in front of the men. He had two strange cases. On the one hand, he had these strange deaths in anonymous motel rooms that seemed benign enough—just really strange. And on the other hand, he has a serial killer who specialized in total carnage.
Two bizarre cases. Two extremes.
He closed his eyes, and he could still see the severed body parts. Legs, heads, torsos. Like some kind of gigantic tossed salad of human remains in there.
This is fucking sick, he thought. He felt some vomit about to surge up inside him, but was somehow able to hold it back.
He started the engine and drove away from the park.
CHAPTER THIRTY
When Colleen woke, she was in the bed alone. Jeremy didn’t need much sleep and always got up hours before she did. But he was so quiet, she never even noticed. It was something that took getting used to. She was used to men being gone when she woke up, but she didn’t care about them. She didn’t miss them. Jeremy, she missed. Every time she woke up alone, she had to remind herself that he wasn’t gone. He was just in another room.
The cough started as soon as she moved to get out of bed. She covered her mouth and ran to the bathroom. In her hurry, she almost opened the door to the closet by accident, but stopped herself. She turned on the light and went inside and then coughed up a hunk of phlegm, which she spat into the toilet.
She poured herself a glass of water. That calmed the cough down a bit, but the best thing she could do was light up a cigarette. She found her purse and pulled out the pack. She went back to the bed and lit one up.
The first cigarette of the day always tasted so good.
Colleen got up and went to the bedroom door. She could hear Viv and Jeremy talking out in the kitchen, but couldn’t make out the words. The last couple of days, Viv had been around more, and didn’t even spend all her time in her room like she did when Colleen first got here. Colleen thought Viv was an odd, secretive person back then, but now she actually seemed pretty nice. Friendlier, but there was still a kind of coldness about her. Like she was holding back, afraid to get too close to anyone.
She wanted to open the door a crack and listen to what they were saying, but she had to pee.
Sitting on the bowl, puffing on her cigarette, she couldn’t help looking around. She had been in this bathroom a dozen times or more since coming to this house, but it still amazed her. The marble walls, the fancy fixtures. The size of the bathroom, with big open space all around her. There was even a bidet beside the toilet, but she wasn’t sure how to use it and was too shy to ask. She’d have to take Viv aside at some point and ask her about it.
There was something strange about all of it; from this ornate bathroom she now found herself in, to her budding relationship with Jeremy. It all seemed so unreal. Like a fairytale princess finding her Prince Charming. She almost pinched herself. And Jeremy had been taking her on shopping expeditions all week. For once in her life, she had been able to get the clothes she really wanted, and shoes. At first she had felt so guilty, taking his money, his gifts. But now she was starting to enjoy it all. And it felt wonderful.
To think of all the bad years spent confused and alone. Despite the parade of strangers who filled her life, she always felt totally alone. That’s what was missing now, that loneliness. She didn’t feel it anymore, and she didn’t miss it.
When she was done, she went back to the bedroom door, to listen to the murmur of voices from the other room, but they were silent now.
Realizing she was dressed only in her panties, Colleen snatched up her robe and put it on. Then she opened the door and went out to the kitchen to greet them.
It was a new day.
* * *
“Cancel my appointments for this afternoon,” Sam said. The lobby was empty, except for the two of them, and he wanted to take advantage of the break. “If anyone shows up, tell them I’m not coming back the rest of the day.”
“Of course,” Carla said, ready to pick up the phone and start calling. He knew she thought this was about Maggie’s death. About a need to take more time off to mourn. No harm in letting her think that.
“You don’t need to say why, do you?” he asked.
“Not at all,” Carla said, ever the understanding employee. “I’ll just tell them something came up and they will have to reschedule. There’s no reason to go into any more detail than that.”
“Thanks, Carla.”
Sam went back into his office and looked up Charlie’s address, and wrote it down on a slip of paper.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
An hour later, Sam was driving to Charlie’s house. He parked across the street and checked the address against the slip of paper he’d brought. It hadn’t been difficult to find the place. He’d only taken one wrong turn during the course of the trip, and he’d caught that soon enough not to end up too far out of the way.
It was almost three in the afternoon. Sam walked across the street and up the lawn, seeing no sign of anyone. He went up to the front door and rang the bell.
The second time he rang it, Charlie’s mother answered the door.
“Hello, Mrs. Jarrold,” Sam said. “I’ve come to see Charlie.”
“Of course, Dr. Wayne,” Charlie’s mother said. He didn’t correct her. “I think he’s out in the back yard. Right this way.”
“I’ve been concerned,” Sam said as she led him toward the rear of the house “He hasn’t been in all week. And we were on the verge of making real progress. We can’t take it any further if he doesn’t show up.”
“I assumed he’d been going to his appointments,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
She led him through the kitchen. It was a nice house, but nothing too fancy. Clearly Mrs. Jarrold worked hard for her money. In fact, he suspected that Charlie had been sent to him only as a last resort, that they really couldn’t afford the sessions.
She opened the door leading out to the back yard. Sam thanked her and went outside.
There was an old swing set in the yard. The metal was rusted in places. Charlie was sitting on one of the swings, just staring off at the sky. Clearly he’d outgrown them years ago, but they’d never bothered to take them down. And probably didn’t have the time or urgency to have someone else do it.
“How are you feeling, Charlie?” he asked.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was concerned about you. I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“I’ve been sick.”
“Really? What’s wrong with you, Charlie?”
“I don’t know. I just haven’t been feeling good. Didn’t my mother call you?”
“Nobody called me,” Sam said. “So I thought I’d come check on you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Charlie said. “I’m just not feeling good, that’s all. It won’t last forever.”
“I hope not.”
Sam did not sit on the swing beside him. He stayed standing.
“Are you sure you’re coming back at some point, Charlie?”
The boy said nothing.
“I thought we were so close to making real progress,” Sam said. “I thought we’d come to a real understanding. That you were starting to trust me.”
“Bullshit,” Charlie said softly.
“What do you mean by ‘bullshit,’ Charlie?”
“I’m not coming back, okay? I didn’t think you’d get that bent out of shape about it. I had no idea you’d actually come here. But that whole therapy thing, it’s bullshit. I don’t have time for it.”
“Yeah, I can see how busy you are.”
“That kind of stuff doesn’t work,” Charlie said. “It’s a waste of time. And you’re just ripping my mother off, taking her money. I told her I don’t need to see you anymore. That you said I was normal.”
“I don’t believe you Charlie. But I do
believe we have a lot of work to do. And refusing to see that won’t do you any good. Surely you’ve noticed a change in your behavior, however slight, since you’ve started coming to me. Don’t you want to learn to control your temper, Charlie? Don’t you want to be the master of it, instead of letting it control you?”
“I don’t give a shit anymore.”
“You’ll end up in prison, you know. If you don’t control this temper of
yours now, you’ll end up really hurting someone. Maybe even killing somebody. Or they’ll kill you. I really don’t see much good in denying you have a problem.”
“But you see, that’s it. I don’t have a problem. It’s everybody else that has the problem. People fuck with me, that’s their problem, not mine. I just take care of myself, that’s all. I can’t see how you can help me with that. I know how to handle myself.”
“Clearly you don’t, or you wouldn’t get in so much trouble.”
“Like I said, it’s all bullshit. What you do is a scam. I see right through it.”
“Is that so? So I guess nothing I can say or do will convince you to come back, right? You’ve made up your mind?”
“You got that right.”
“Well, I guess I misjudged you, Charlie. I thought you were a smart kid, who really wanted to change. I guess you fooled me on that one, because I really believed in you. But that’s just because I’m gullible, huh?”
“Must be.”
“But you’re not. You see right through me.”
Even here, between where Sam stood and Charlie sat on the swing, Sam could feel the transfer of energy. The spark of electrons around him. The adrenaline rush. Charlie was getting angry again. His bewilderment at Sam’s appearance here, at his home, was giving way to real anger. And Sam found that the angrier Charlie got, the more energized he felt.
“Can you go now?” Charlie said.
“Yeah, sure,” Sam said, not wanting to move from the spot. He looked up at the clouds, wondering what was so fascinating about them that Charlie remained focused up there and refused to look at him directly.
“I’ll go, Charlie. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me. If that temper of yours gets the better of you and you start feeling like maybe you want a little more control over your life, remember that I am available to you. Call me.”
“Yeah, right.”
“It’s too bad,” Sam said. “I’d hoped you and I had connected on some level.”
“Bullshit,” Charlie said again, refusing to look at him.
Sam did not go back to the house. Instead, he left Charlie sitting on the swing and walked around the house to the street. He sat in his car for a moment, trying to think of something that would change Charlie’s mind. But he couldn’t think of anything.
Instead, he started the car and drove away.
* * *
Viv answered her cell phone on the third ring. There weren’t too many people who knew the number. And, of those few, most of them were dead.
She hesitated a moment, then said softly, “Hello?”
“Sis, that you?”
She hadn’t heard Grif’s voice in such a long time, she almost didn’t place it at first.
“It’s been too long, Grif.”
“I hear ya,” her little brother said, sounding as thrilled as she did. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Where the hell are you, you little bastard?”
“I’m at the train station. In your neck of the woods. With my few earthly possessions. Waiting for a ride from my dear old sister.”
“You’re here?”
“So close you can almost touch me. But I won’t be staying for long. I got in a little trouble and I’m trying to stay one step ahead of the storm. Since I was passing through, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to make a pit stop and say hello.”
“Shit,” Viv said. “How many years has it been?”
“Four, five,” he said. “Too long.”
“I’ll be there soon. You okay otherwise?”
“I’m as good as good can be. Except for the complications I mentioned.”
“You get a good head start?”
“Real good, but I want to keep it that way. That’s why my visit is going to be brief but unforgettable.”
She left her room, phone to her ear, and walked out to the front door. No sign of Jeremy and Colleen. Either they had left or were otherwise indisposed. “I’m heading out to the car now. I should be there in about twenty minutes.”
“Sounds like a plan. See you then.”
“You bet.”
He hung up first. She got into her car, the silver BMW Jeremy had gotten her three years before. One of the presents she’d been the recipient of over the years. There was so much she felt she needed to repay him for. There was no way to even begin. She wished she could have given in to his desires so many times over the years, but she knew how easy it would have been to find that special spot inside him, the one that wanted so badly to die. And if she found that weak spot, like a tongue probing a cavity, she wouldn’t be able to leave it alone. And he would end up very dead.
She couldn’t bring herself to risk that. She’d explained it all to him one night a long time ago, when they’d both had too much to drink. And he seemed to understand. Hell, the fact that he believed her at all was enough to make her love him all the more. He’d been so incredibly kind to her, and even respected her rule about no sex, even though she’d wanted to grab him and fuck the life out of him so many times (literally). It had been rough on both of them.
She was racing down the narrow street that provided the path to and from the ocean-side properties. Not another soul on the road. She felt the wind caressing her short blonde hair.
Grif! It had been so long since she’d seen him. They were only two years apart, but she always thought of him as her little brother. The one she’d had to protect when they were growing up. Sensitive little Griffin. It was funny how much he’d changed over the years. He’d grown up into such a man, but she’d never been able to abandon the image of him she’d had when they were kids. It was something she had to curb. He surely didn’t want to be treated like a child again after all these years.
She got to the train station in fifteen minutes. Grif was sitting in a dark corner, reading a magazine, but she spotted him immediately. They shared a kind of sense for each other. Could feel if each other were in the same room, the same house. How many parties had they both attended and not even known until they both got there, sensing each other from opposite ends of the room.
She stood before him and snatched the magazine from his hands. “I knew you were there all along,” he told her.
“Sure you did.”
He got up and grabbed his bag. “We going back to your place?”
“Naw, there’s nothing to see there. There’s a bar not too far from here you might like, and they’ll be open by now. I figured you might like a few drinks and we can catch up on things.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he said. He said it all the time, and she didn’t expect him to stop now. It was nice in small doses, because it was like his signature in a bizarre way, but if he was around too long, it got tiresome fast. She almost told him to get a new catch phrase, but she was just so happy to see him, that she didn’t have the heart.
“Follow me,” she said, leading him out of the station to the parking lot.
“You still living with that Rust guy?” Grif asked, following her out the door.
“Yep.”
“Am I finally going to meet him?”
“I don’t know. Will you be able to behave yourself?”
“Don’t I always?”
“I won’t answer that.”
“This guy’s real important to you, isn’t he?”
“That’s a way to put it.”
“So this bar is close by?”
“It’s a spin around the block. You think you can last that long?”
“I’m not sure. I’m pretty thirsty.”
“I better get you there before you collapse,” she said and laughed.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“Is it the same stuff,” Ben Carroll asked.
“Well, it’s older, and it’s mixed with dirt. But yeah, there are traces,” Jasper Eng said, leaning over the microscope. “Sure as shit. That same weird fucking alien sperm.”
It sounded like something out of a bad science fiction movie, but there was no other way to describe it. On many of the Shredder's victims, male as well as female, there were traces of a substance that seemed similar to semen, but, up close under the microscope, it looked nothing like human sperm at all. Jasper was unable to identify it, and neither were any of his colleagues. They’d come to call it alien sperm as a kind of joke, but it was as likely an
explanation as anything else.
“So those bodies in the mass grave,” Carroll said. “They’re all his work.”
“I think that’s a pretty safe assumption.”
“And we have no leads. Nothing to go on. Even people who actually saw him can’t offer us any kind of clear description. Nothing that makes sense.”
“I know, Ben. It’s frustrating.”
“Fuck that. It’s downright torture. To be so close to nailing this guy over and over, and having nothing concrete to go on. I can’t even get a decent description of the son of a bitch. His face is always blurry or obscured or some shit. They can’t even tell me how tall he is or what he’s wearing.”
“If he’s wearing anything at all.”
“How the fuck does he do it?”
“It’s like that old radio character, The Shadow,” Eng said. “You know, he has the power to cloud men’s minds.”
“That’s not half funny, Jasp. Sounds close enough to the fucking truth to be credible.”
“You think he can hypnotize people, even from a distance?”
“Who the fuck knows? It’s just that we can’t find any credible witnesses. And this monster is getting away with what’s starting to look like genocide. What does this bring the body count to, Jasp?”