by Tim Kizer
“I envy you.”
“Have you ever been there during Mardi Gras?”
“No.”
“Mardi Gras is amazing. I think you’ll love it.”
Osiris looked at Lucia’s breasts, wondering if she flashed them for beads at Mardi Gras. He would ask her about it later, when she was in his and Castor’s clutches.
“I think so, too,” he said.
“Beyoncé has a house in New Orleans. I’ve seen it. It’s gorgeous.”
“Have you ever seen Beyoncé in person?”
“No. I met Sandra Bullock once. She has a house in New Orleans, too.”
“I like Sandra Bullock. She’s funny.”
“And beautiful.”
“Yeah, she’s very beautiful. She doesn’t age.”
Osiris glanced toward the gate from which the bus to Miami was going to leave and saw that the passengers had begun to line up there. Holly was still sitting on the bench. Was she curious about what he was talking to Lucia about and why he was talking to her?
“Did you see Ocean’s Eight?” Lucia asked.
“Yes. It’s a good movie.”
“Sandra is good in it.”
A bus station employee came in through the gate Osiris had used to enter the terminal, pulling a plastic suitcase behind her that looked like Veronica’s.
No one picked up her suitcase, so they’re putting it in storage.
“Do you like Gravity?” Osiris asked.
“Yes.” Lucia nodded. “I wouldn’t want to be an astronaut. I’m really afraid of heights. Because of that, I’ve never been on that giant Ferris wheel in Vegas. Have you ever been on it?”
Osiris shook his head. “No.” He looked at his watch. He estimated that Lucia would fall asleep in about two minutes.
He said, “Excuse me, Lucia. I have to go to the restroom. Can you watch my bag?”
“Sure.”
When Osiris went into the men’s room, he set his cup on the sink and texted Castor: “Her name is Lucia. Is she still sitting on the bench?”
While he waited for Castor’s response, a tall guy with a neck tattoo came in and stepped up to a urinal.
Castor replied: “Yes.”
Osiris messaged: “Watch her. Let me know if she leaves the bench.”
He pushed the door to the handicapped stall, and it opened. He peeked inside, saw the stall was empty, and stepped in. Some said it wasn’t okay for the able-bodied to use handicapped stalls, but Osiris thought that was nonsense: if only cripples used those stalls, they would be empty ninety-nine percent of the time. What a waste that would be!
After locking the door, he sat on the toilet, opened his fanny pack, and took out the empty syringe and a vial containing liquid sedative-hypnotic (the same kind he’d given to Veronica). He unscrewed the cap of the vial and filled the syringe with the sedative-hypnotic. There was another syringe loaded with the sedative in the fanny pack, but Osiris liked to have an extra one, just in case.
To expel the air from the syringe, he held it vertically with the needle pointing up, tapped it twice, and pressed the plunger until a drop appeared at the tip of the needle. He put the syringe and the vial in his fanny pack and checked his messages. Nothing from Castor.
Lucia should fall asleep in the next minute.
He got up, turned to the toilet, unzipped his pants, and took a long pee. He hadn’t lied to Lucia when he said he had to go to the restroom.
His pee stream was thick and strong, the kind of stream you could proudly show off to other men. Osiris called it presidential (although he supposed that most American presidents had had weak streams, on account of their old age).
Roaring and gurgling, the toilet flushed automatically as Osiris left the stall.
He washed his hands, dried them with a paper towel, and then sent Castor a message saying: “Go sit near her. Wait until 4:55 to take her.”
He didn’t want Holly to see Castor putting Lucia in the wheelchair, and he expected her to be onboard the bus by 4:55 p.m.
3
Veronica’s suspected killer rose from the bench and stepped out into the aisle.
Where is he going now?
As Veronica’s suspected killer approached the restrooms, Eric wondered if there was someone in the ladies’ room.
Did he see a woman enter it earlier?
Veronica’s suspected killer went into the men’s room, but that might have been a ruse.
Eric messaged Holly and Ralph: “He’s in the restroom. Should I go in there?”
He looked at the entrance to the restrooms. Had Veronica’s suspected killer sneaked into the ladies’ room?
Holly replied: “Yes. Don’t forget to film it.”
He would videotape that man trying to kill a woman so they would have irrefutable evidence against him. Prosecutors might not be able to convince the jury that he was a serial killer, but they would have no trouble proving attempted murder, which in Texas carried a sentence of up to twenty years.
Eric opened the camera app on his phone, stood up, and headed to the restrooms. He was halfway there when a young brown-haired woman in a pink dress went into the ladies’ room.
Was Veronica’s suspected killer waiting for her there?
His heart pounding hard, Eric quickened his pace.
Has he already attacked her?
Eric walked up to the doorless entrance to the ladies’ room and listened. No voices, no sounds of fighting, no moans.
He stepped into the ladies’ room, saw no one. No blood anywhere.
He bent down and looked under the stalls. Only one stall was occupied, and there was only one person there, who wore women’s shoes. It must be the woman in the pink dress.
He might have forced someone from the ladies’ room into the men’s room and killed her there.
As Eric walked out of the ladies’ room, he passed a short middle-aged woman with blue hair, who gave him a questioning look.
“Sorry,” he muttered, and moved into the men’s room.
There was no one at the urinals or the sinks.
Eric peered under the stalls and found that only the handicapped one was occupied. One person, with shoes that looked like the ones worn by the man they suspected of killing Veronica.
It must be him.
Unless he left while I was in the ladies’ room.
Eric exited the restroom and went to the vending machines nearby. If Veronica’s suspected killer didn’t come out in a minute, he would check the ladies’ room again.
4
When Castor informed him that he had sat near Lucia, Osiris pulled the straw from his cup, folded it in two, and slipped it and the lid into his left back pocket. Then he emptied the cup into the sink, flattened it, and put it in his right back pocket. The three items had his fingerprints on them so he had to take them with him.
He looked toward the seating area when he came out of the men’s room. Holly was gone, and so was her suitcase. Had she joined the line at the gate?
Castor was sitting at the end of Lucia’s bench. Lucia appeared to be asleep; her hands were empty.
On the way back to the seating area, Osiris messaged Castor: “Don’t forget her cup.”
He picked up his bag and headed to the vending machines. He transferred the cup, the lid, and the straw to his bag before he reached the machines.
Chapter 14
1
As Nick stood in line at Gate D, another text came from Harry: “Are you going to give me back my phone, Holly?”
“Is it from him?” asked Holly, who was standing in front of Nick.
Nick nodded and showed her the killer’s message. Then he texted Harry back: “This is George. Are you still at the bus station?”
Harry replied a few moments later: “Yes.”
Nick scanned the terminal for Sam, then texted the killer: “Let’s meet now.”
“Will you give me back my phone?”
“We’ll talk about it when we meet.”
“I can’t meet you now.”
<
br /> “Why?”
“I don’t trust you. Where are you headed?”
“Baton Rouge.”
Nick chose Baton Rouge, the next stop after Beaumont, because he wanted to hurry the killer up.
“What’s the bus schedule number?”
“1362.”
It was Nick’s real bus schedule number.
Was Harry going to join him on the bus?
The killer asked, “Will Holly be on the same bus as you?”
“Yes. Where do you want to meet?”
“Let me think about it.”
Holly leaned close to Nick and whispered, “We’re not going to give him back his phone, are we?”
“No.”
“It’s a trap?”
“Yeah.”
Would Harry agree to talk to him in person?
He needed to convince the killer that he wasn't trying to trick him.
Nick looked around for Sam and saw him approaching the line, his duffel bag in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.
“Let’s sit together on this bus,” Nick told Holly.
“Okay.”
2
Castor picked up Lucia’s cup moments after it fell from her hand, and put it on the bench beside him. Lucia said nothing because she was asleep.
At five minutes to five, he pushed the wheelchair up to Lucia and said, “Let’s go, honey. Let’s get something to eat.”
Both Holly Williams and Osiris had already boarded the bus.
Castor grabbed Lucia under the armpits, lifted her up, and sat her in the wheelchair. He liked her perfume. It was probably cheap, but it smelled good—sweet and flowery.
He slipped Lucia’s cup into the side pocket of the wheelchair, placed her suitcase on her lap, and headed to the exit.
What was Lucia’s blood type?
He should test her and Veronica’s blood types soon.
Castor made his way at a leisurely pace through the terminal and reached the exit without being questioned about Lucia. Outside, he went around the corner to where his van was parked. When he pushed the wheelchair into the van and closed the side door, he picked up Lucia’s suitcase and set it on the floor near the rear doors (he would get rid of it later). Then he put the battery back in Veronica’s phone, plugged a voice changer into it, and dialed the Houston bus station’s number.
“How can I help you?” the operator asked.
“Hi. I forgot to pick up my suitcase when I got off the bus. Could you hold onto it for a couple of days?”
The voice changer made Castor sound like a woman.
“What’s the bus schedule?”
“Seven three oh three.”
“Did you check the suitcase?”
“Yes.”
“What’s your name?”
“Veronica Mendez.”
“When are you going to collect your suitcase?”
“Wednesday.”
“Okay. Please bring the baggage receipt and your ID.”
“Thank you.”
Castor removed the batteries from Veronica’s and Lucia’s phones, then pulled out Lucia’s wallet and looked at her driver’s license. Lucia was twenty-four years old and lived in Port Arthur, Texas. Castor examined the baggage tag on Lucia’s suitcase and found that she had been headed to Beaumont, Texas.
Two down, one to go.
Osiris had already chosen the target: Holly Williams.
Castor tied Lucia’s hands and feet, laid her next to Veronica, and got behind the wheel.
The next stop was Beaumont, Texas, eighty-five miles from Houston. The hunt might not come to an end there: Osiris had told Castor that they might have to postpone taking the third girl until they arrived in Baton Rouge, which was one hundred and eighty-five miles from Beaumont.
He texted Osiris: “I got her. I’m leaving for Beaumont,” and started the van.
Half an hour later he stopped at a truck stop to give Lucia a shot of sedative.
Chapter 15
1
“I think he’s going to be on this bus,” Nick told Holly as they walked down the aisle.
They sat in the sixth row on the right side of the bus. Sam got on board a minute later and took the window seat three rows behind Nick and Holly across the aisle.
Had Harry been able to buy a ticket for this bus? All tickets might have been sold out by the time he got to the counter.
One minute before the bus was scheduled to depart, Nick went to the front row and scanned the passengers. He recognized seven men from the bus to Houston. One of them was the guy in the Bob Marley T-shirt, who had sat across the aisle from him and whom he had ruled out as the killer.
Should he take their pictures?
The killer might notice and think I want to turn him in to the police.
“Besides me, at least seven men here were on the first bus,” Nick told Holly.
None of the seven men from the bus to Houston sat close to them, so the killer couldn’t hear them.
“I wish there were only a couple of them.”
“Yeah, that would’ve made things a lot easier.”
The driver, a short black woman in her forties, climbed behind the wheel and welcomed the passengers aboard.
“We’ll be making stops in Beaumont, Baton Rouge, New Orleans, Biloxi, Mobile, Pensacola, Panama City, Tallahassee, Gainesville, Ocala, Orlando, Fort Pierce, West Palm Beach, Fort Lauderdale, and our final destination, Miami.”
Holly plugged the charger into an outlet and asked, “Do you want to charge his phone?”
“Yes.” Nick gave her the killer’s cell, and she connected it to the charger.
When the bus pulled out of the terminal, Nick took out his phone and played the video he had filmed this afternoon, screenshotting each of the seven men he recognized from the bus to Houston. He got full-face shots of three of them.
“I wonder if he killed someone at the Houston station,” Nick said, pocketing his phone.
“I hope not.”
As the bus turned onto the highway, Holly asked, “What are you going to do when you meet him?”
“I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.”
He could simply take Harry’s picture and run away. But he didn’t want to run away.
“We should’ve bought a knife,” Holly said. “There’s a grocery store two blocks from the bus station.”
“We have your nail file.” Nick smiled.
“Stab him in the eye,” Holly said. “I think the file’s long enough to reach the brain.”
A thunderous sneeze came from the back of the bus.
“There was a movie where one guy killed another by stabbing him in the eye with a screwdriver,” Nick said. “Did you see it?”
“I think it was in Die Hard.”
“I think I saw it in a horror movie, but it might’ve been done in Die Hard, too.”
Was Harry on the bus?
“Do they sell pepper sprays at convenience stores?” Holly asked.
“I don’t know.”
Nick took the killer’s cell from Holly and texted Harry: “Are you on my bus?”
What if Harry had put something in his bag that would link him to one of Harry’s murders? Maybe the killer wanted to discredit him by framing him for murder?
Nick handed Harry’s phone to Holly, got up, pulled out his duffel, and put it on his seat.
What could Harry have planted in his bag?
A knife he’d used to kill one of his victims, an item of one of his victims’ clothing stained with her blood, one of his victims’ body part, one of his victims’ hairs.
Nick unzipped his duffel and began to rummage slowly through it. He found nothing there that didn’t belong to him, and nothing was missing.
Nothing had been taken from the end pockets of the bag and nothing had been planted in them.
Nick shoved his duffel under his seat and told Holly, “I was checking to see if Harry took anything from my bag.”
“Did he take anything?”
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“No.”
The killer’s phone vibrated. Another message from Harry: “Yes.”
The killer was on the bus.
Nick turned back and looked toward where Sam sat. Sam was still in the window seat, and Nick could only see the top of his head. The guy was awake.
It was a quarter past five. They would arrive in Beaumont in an hour and twenty minutes. He should try to find a way to gain Harry’s trust before they reached their next stop.
2
He doesn’t trust me because he thinks I’m an honest, law-abiding citizen who wants him behind bars.
He should convince Harry that he was corrupt and had no respect for the law.
Corrupt people love money. He could demand money in exchange for the cell.
Nick texted the killer: “How much can you pay for the phone?”
“I'm trying to get him to trust me,” he explained to Holly. “I want to convince him that I’m not going to turn him in to the police.”
Four minutes passed before Harry replied: “How much do you want?”
How much should he ask? It would be suspicious if he asked too little.
Was twenty thousand dollars too little?
Freedom was worth more than twenty grand.
He would ask for fifty thousand. It was reasonable and not too low.
Nick messaged Harry: “$50 000.”
A minute later Harry responded: “That’s too much.”
“I don’t think so.”
It would be suspicious if he started making concessions right away.
Harry texted back: “That’s too much.”
Nick waited five minutes before messaging: “OK. $40 000.”
Harry replied: “I can give you 20 000.”
Did the ruse work? Or is he playing with me?
Nick messaged: “30 000.”
“25 000.”
“Do you have it on you?”
“No. I’ll have to go to the bank.”
Nick checked the clock on the cell. 5:43 p.m.
They would arrive in Beaumont in about fifty minutes.
He texted Harry: “Does your bank have a branch in Beaumont?”
The killer replied: “Let me check.”
Is he going to meet me? Will he meet me in Beaumont?
A few minutes later Harry texted: “They have a branch in Beaumont.”