Book Read Free

xXATHINLINE EBOOKXx-docx

Page 5

by Gianna Boiani


  "Good luck, sir," Wilson said as John followed the ambulance to the hospital, his thoughts turning to Jacqueline, the living, breathing fetus inside her belly, and the future that may or may not be.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  John sat in the waiting room in Harbor View Medical when Jacqueline appeared. "Oh, John! Is he going to be alright?"

  John took her in his arms and tried to comfort her and calm her. "He is in surgery. He lost quite a bit of blood, but they are optimistic."

  "When will we know? How long will he be in there for?"

  "Another half hour or so."

  Julie, who was working at the hospital, entered the room. "I'm so sorry, Jacqueline."

  She then held Jacqueline in her arms as she started to cry on Julie's shoulder. John got up, walked to the hallway and started pacing back and forth. His mind was overloaded with hundreds of thoughts. He kept analyzing the events in his mind and the mistakes he made. "If he dies I will never forgive myself," he whispered out loud not realizing he was actually speaking the words. At that moment the head surgeon came out. "Detective Corbin?"

  "Yes?" John answered.

  "Mr. McGrath is going to be fine. We extracted all three bullets. The one in the shoulder proved most difficult. He had damage to the rotator cuff and the bullet was embedded in the bone. But with rest and therapy, he will be as good as new."

  "Thank you," John said. He then took a moment to gather himself, turned and walked into the waiting room to inform the girls, but by the look on their faces, he could tell that they already knew. "He will be fine. Maybe a week in here to regain his strength, a couple months of therapy and he will be as good as new.

  "Yes, we know. We are so relieved," Julie said.

  "How did you know?" John asked, perplexed.

  "We watched through the glass when the surgeon came up to you. There was no mistaking your reaction. You looked like the happiest man on Earth." Then they all broke out into laughter and tears, happy that their friend and husband would be around to see his first child born.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Silas splashed water on his face in the diner bathroom. He hesitated before going back to eat his breakfast and took in his reflection. Silas had a triangular face, which came to a point at the chin, along with dark seedy eyes framed with downturned eyebrows. He had a long, thin nose and thin lips. His hair was jet black and greased straight back. He had a light complexion and one could say that he resembled a handsome Dracula, minus the fangs. The one discerning attribute was a reddish scar that ran from the corner of his mouth up and across his right cheek. He received this mark from one of his victims who had a concealed knife on him when Silas attacked him.

  Silas returned to his table and finished off his cup of coffee. His next victim was still here, finishing his breakfast. There was a multitude of reasons why Silas would choose a victim. Maybe the person seemed to overflow with sorrow or maybe they were too happy. Maybe they didn’t respect their life and the quality that it possessed. Maybe Silas just saw something in them when their eyes met. Whatever the reason, Silas had located his next one, a somber man in his thirties. He was a white-collar worker of some kind because for the two weeks that Silas had been scouting him, he always had a suit on. He never smiled. Never. He felt it his duty to relieve this lost soul of its suffering. When the man got up to leave, Silas followed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  John sat in his den, alone, listening to music at four in the morning. He always felt that two to five a.m. was the best time to create or appreciate art. He called this time "The creative wheelhouse." All rational thought and reservations are put on hold. The left side of the brain, which is responsible for cognitive and deductive thought, goes into hibernation. The right side, which is responsible for intuitive instincts, becomes dominant. John listens to and admires all genres of music, but tonight he was listening to Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. The beauty of the music amazed him. A string of notes perfectly placed and played, like pearls on a string, was an accomplishment of astonishing artistry. Music in its purest form is basically the push and pull, build up and release of pressure, tension and emotion. Few did it as well as Ludwig Van Beethoven. Now, under his headphones, he felt transported to another world, with all pressures and responsibilities gone, leaving only beautiful, timeless music in its wake. He used these sessions for a release and to relax his soul. Often he would listen to a piece over and over again to get the full effect, to hear and feel every note. Tonight he needed variety. He had Dvorak's ninth and Tchaikovsky's sixth lined up to finish off the session. While the music soothed him, he reflected on all the happenings of the last few days and thanked the forces of the universe that Todd would be fine. As the last note of Tchaikovsky's masterpiece played, on the other side of town, Silas Alvah was choking out the last bit of air from his fresh victim’s lungs.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  John entered Todd’s room at eleven in the morning. He sat in the chair and waited patiently for him to awaken. He had seen him the day of the surgery, but Todd was drugged and incoherent. Todd’s eyes flickered open and they focused on John sitting there watching him. "Damn old man, you always watch dudes sleep? If I didn’t know your wife, I’d be a bit concerned."

  "Yeah, and if I had followed my instincts and not listened to your stubborn ass, I wouldn’t be in a hospital room watching you sleep," John said. “How do you feel?"

  "Sore. My shoulder is a mess they tell me, but I’ll live."

  "You better. You have a future wife and child to get home to."

  "I know that. I have every intention of getting out of here as soon as possible."

  "Whoa, cowboy. You lost quite a bit of blood. It’s going to take a while to get your strength back. That shoulder is going to take a good amount of healing and rehab. You need to take your time."

  "Okay, pops. Did you come here to make me miserable or cheer me up?"

  "Cheer you up of course. Listen up," John said.

  "There’s a Jewish man walking on a beach and he comes across a magic lantern. He rubs it and a genie comes out. The genie says to the man, ‘I will grant you one wish.’

  The Jewish man pulls out a map of the Middle East, shows it to the genie and says, ‘I would like peace between the Israelis and Palestinians.’ The genie looks at the map and says, ‘I cannot do that. Anything else?’ So the man says I would like my wife to blow me like she did before we were married.’ The genie looks at the man and says, ‘Let me see that map again.’”

  “Haha, good one, old man. So that is what I have to look forward to after I am married?” Todd said.

  “That and more bills," John said.

  "Damn, partner, it’s a good thing you are fighting crime. If you were a psychiatrist you would talk the people over the ledge instead of off it," Todd said.

  "Get some sleep big shot. I will be by tomorrow to check on your sorry ass," John said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Julie and Jacqueline were enjoying a cup of coffee together while waiting to place their lunch orders. They had started to grow closer as friends through the crisis of Todd's shooting. "How are you?" Julie asked."

  “I am doing about as well as I can, considering he almost died," Jacqueline said. "I think about it every night. How close it came to being a reality. Scary, you know. How much of our lives we really can't control."

  "Absolutely. A chain of events that leads to a death can drive a person insane. I see it all too often at the hospital. The butterfly effect is a concept that our minds can barely understand and accept. But it is there, creeping into our lives, taking away loved ones and ruining families. Sad, really. But let’s bring some brightness to this conversation. How’s the tummy?"

  "Excellent! I am about eight weeks in and I just had my tests and ultrasound. Both the baby and I are as healthy as can be. We were even able to detect a heartbeat!"

  "Wonderful! He must be strong!" Julie said.

  "He?" Jac
queline said.

  "Um, well, John secretly hopes it’s a boy. He thinks Todd would be great with a son."

  "Ha. I’m sure he would be. He’d probably grow up to be a detective just like his dad and I would have to worry about both of them getting shot."

  A faint smirk came over Julie's lips as the food arrived and she said, "Such is the life of a cop's wife, honey. Welcome to the party."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  John gave one last thrust and his semen exploded out of him. The wonderful sensation vibrated through his entire body. Julie lay under him, with her legs wrapped around his body. They usually stayed this way for a while after sex, interconnected, savoring the final lingering sensations. Julie loved this part of sex the most, even more than the wonderful orgasms that John never failed to summon from her. She could now feel John's heartbeat inside of her, pumping through the veins of his manhood. That sensation was not only physically euphoric but also spiritually and emotionally stimulating. It made her feel as one with her husband’s body. Like two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly. Sweat dripped from John's neck and chest onto Julie's small but firm breasts. Her body was very athletic, blessed with curvy hips, a very plump, solid ass and long powerful legs. She kept a fluffy, nicely trimmed patch of pubic hair, which was John's preference. He liked women to be natural. Natural breasts, no tattoos, no body piercings and most of all, a manicured bush. Julie obliged him in every way. She loved him and had never experienced sex that compared to the sensations John aroused in her. He was an unselfish lover, caring about her orgasms more than his own. He always gave her body, mind, and heart ample attention. He was also very well endowed which made Julie feel very fortunate. She was not a politically correct woman who claimed size didn’t matter. It does and she told him all the time how perfect his penis was.

  As the lovers lay still in a sweaty, exhausted, satisfied mass of naked flesh, John ever so gently kissed her on the lips, looked deeply into her eyes and whispered, "I love you, Julie." Julie's heart fluttered a bit and she was delighted that he could still make her feel this sensation even after all these years. After basking in the glow of their lovemaking, John finally laid on his back and held her to him. "Damn, I love having sex with you," he said.

  "Believe me, the feeling is mutual, big guy," she said. John always found the most enjoyable time to talk to Julie was the moments immediately following their lovemaking. Relaxed. Happy. Nerves and mind calm and clear. This time was no exception. "You know, this close call with Todd has got me thinking. I'm not afraid to die, but what saddens me about death is the reality that there will be a last time for everything in life. A last time you enjoy your favorite food. A last listen to your favorite song. A last kiss on your children's cheeks. A last time you will make love to the person you love. I don’t want there to be a last time for these experiences, but there will be. Will we even realize it? That it is the last time? Probably not. Right?”

  "Julie leaned up on her elbow, gave a little smirk and said, "You are a nut. The places that mind goes. I understand what you are getting at, but John, it's so sad and morbid. And right after sex!?"

  John chuckled and said, “Sorry, babe. Maybe we should do it again to make certain that wasn't our last time." With that, John was erect again and pulled Julie on top of him so that she could control the next session.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Paul Sipriano was sitting on the bed, starting to undress when Tamela came up behind him and stuck the needle into the back of his neck. He immediately slumped to the floor. Paul Sipriano would never open his eyes again. Paul was married with a beautiful wife and children at home. He wanted some excitement on the side, so Tamela obliged. Before Paul was able to slide his cock into her, she slid her deadly needle into him. Her needle contained a barbiturate, and a paralytic and potassium solution, a fatal cocktail. The dirty pig got what he deserved in Tamela’s mind, just like her perverted father did. Tamela was repulsed by men, thanks to her daddy. He had repeatedly raped her, beat her mother and pretty much stuck his cock into any hole he could find. It is because of him that Tamela turned to licking pussy. After what he did to her, she could never be sexually attracted to a man. Tamela now stood over Paul Sipriano's dead body and thought the needle was always the easy part. A man in anticipation of sex could very well be the most unintelligent, unsuspecting creature on earth. The difficult part was getting rid of the scumbag’s body. That was one of the few times that she wished she had a man in the house. To remove the dead bodies. Getting rid of the vehicles was easy thanks to her lover, Sarah. Sarah owned an auto body shop and had the connections to be able to strip the vehicles and immediately sell the parts. Now came the part Tamela dreaded. Sawing the body apart limb by limb and placing them into garbage bags. Then she would drop the parts into scattered pre-dug holes and cover them in lime, then fill the holes with dirt. Paul was her fourth kill that she would bury on her ten acres of wooded land that she owned. She had killed her father as well, but he wasn’t buried here on her property. She turned his evil body to ashes in a wood stove. Tamela knew that she couldn’t get rid of all the lying, cheating men and free all of their wives, but she could get rid of as many as possible. She now had lit a cigarette before the post homicidal festivities. It was what she considered her post sex cigarette, as the needle entering the man’s neck was orgasmic to her and standing over the dead mans limp, weak, lifeless body made her feel dominant and victorious, in a very sexual way. She now took her last drag of the Virginia Slim, stubbed out the butt on Paul’s forehead and pulled on yellow gardening gloves. The required laborious part of her evening was about to begin.

  CHAPTER-THIRTY

  John sat on a rock on Alki Point looking out across Puget Sound. He came here to meditate three or four times a year on a day off when not practicing his shooting with Todd. It was usually an escape for him after a few stressful days or weeks. Experiencing the beauty and power of nature would usually put his life back on track and give him perspective. Today, John was pondering his faith. An agnostic, he didn’t believe in God, or to be more precise, the God of the many organized religions on this planet. At the same time, he couldn’t discount the possibility of a Creator. Without an answer to the age-old question of where life began, he could accept the concept of intelligent design. John’s meditative thoughts lately have revolved around death and philosophical questions about living and dying. The one remedy to John that would make dying easier and more acceptable, was uncovering and understanding all the answers to life before we go. Where and how did it originate? All the questions man has ever pondered answered. That, would make dying acceptable, even inviting. These existential thoughts didn’t reside in his brain until John hit his forties. Now it’s rare when a day passes by that he doesn't consider them. It amazed John how the state of your internal thoughts can change through the decades of your life. Maturity, experience, and perspective are very fluid and change numerous times as our story unfolds. Heading back to his truck, John wondered what the next chapter in his story contained.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  “That was the first instance of Seattle being affected by an Islamic terrorist. Thanks to your shooting, John, it wasn't as bad as it could have been," Captain Johnson said. So, don’t beat yourself up over your decisions in the matter. You really had no choice."

  "I did. Thank you for attempting to lift my spirits, Captain, but I made a poor decision."

  "You did what needed to be done to save a hostage. Terrorists are impossible to defend against. When a person is willing to die for their cause, preparing for them, defending against them and terminating them is virtually impossible. To top it off, you had no idea he was a terrorist. You are an integral part of this squad. Clear your head of any guilt and move on."

  "I’ll do my best, sir," John said.

  "I know Todd is being released from the hospital today, how is he mentally?" asked the captain.

  "He is getting better by the day, sir. He should be ready
to go in about a month or so."

  "Excellent," Johnson said. “He has all the time he needs. Tell him to take it slow."

  "Will do, sir."

  "We have a new set of similar cases. Not sure if they are related, but we can’t deny the likenesses. I don’t know what’s gotten into the people of northwest Washington, but there has been an awful lot of serial slayings happening in the last few years. Maybe it’s something in the coffee. I’ll send you the info shortly."

  As Captain Johnson walked away John thought that he was right. Recently, the homicide rate has been steadily climbing. So to go along with Seattle having one of the highest suicide rates, it seems like the masses have decided that taking their own lives just doesn’t do the trick anymore. They have graduated to murder. Great. John’s screen flashed as the info file came to his email: Four men. All within a twenty-mile radius. All married. All successful businessmen. All missing. All residing in Kirkland. Without a doubt, John’s instincts told him that these incidents were connected. He found all of the information that he could on these men and headed out. Kirkland would be his destination today.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  John pulled his truck up to 34 Fairview Lane. He parked on the street, got out and paused to take in the stately oversized colonial where the missing Craig Soler lived. Craig had not been seen or heard of for over a month. John walked to the front door and gave a hearty knock. "Hi, can I help you?" said a beautiful woman in her thirties, as she opened the door.

 

‹ Prev